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in my mind remus have a BIG breeding kink

YES YES YES!!!

remmy would have the biggest fucking breeding kink.

even when you were still in hogwarts, every time you fucked, he’d beg to go bare. you were on birth control, so you were mostly safe, but that lingering 2% that it’d fail always got to him.

he’d always be muttering stuff in your ear while he fucked you.

“want me to fuck my pups into you?”

“gonna look so pretty with your belly all swollen with my babies.”

and don’t even get me started when you’re out of hogwarts and discus children, that man would lock you away in his bedroom for days just to fuck you, coming inside of you over and over and over again until the test shows up positive.

Sirius Black (Fancast) Ben Barnes

(Gifs are not mine;credit to owners/creators)

ben barnes as young sirius black

Lonely (kylo ren x reader)

a: kylorenxreader

description: How utterly unruly is it to lust after your ultimate superior? Turns out it’s not as unfortunate as you foretold.

warnings: smUT, moRE SMUT, fluff?, force use, no spoilers for TROS

note: let me know if this is groovy. love hearing from my fellow internet goons.

(DO NOT COPY OR POST MY WRITING AS YOUR OWN: if I find you are- I will expose you)

***

The first time you saw The Supreme Leader without his mask, you felt every last piece of your dignity melt into a puddle and evaporate with each passing second you stared at him. 

 It was inept, and you hated yourself. Every ounce of your commitment was devoted to The Order since you first began your recruitment. You didn’t know what this was, but it sure as hell wasn’t loyalty. 

 Your job was simple, a data analyst, and occasionally you were given temporary command over your unit, and you were fit for it. Well, you were more adequate at the whole thing than you had anticipated. You were promoted. The idea of it was pleasing, but all that repletion faded as soon as you stepped foot into the control room and laid eyes on your mask-less commander. 

 How utterly unruly was it to feel something towards your ultimate superior? You were tempted by him- and it was more than alien to you. 

 Sure - you had laid eyes upon a few men in your day. But this was different. 

 It wasn’t just his face. You had detected him months before, hovering inside the hallways, and you felt yourself turn and walk the opposite direction. His stature was broad and towering. You were intimidated yet interested, somehow finding cracks in his facade of prestige to reveal nothing but a man who wanted to justify himself in the few meetings you attended with the officers. 

 You respected him then, as a superior, but now- you didn’t even want to acknowledge what you felt. It took everything inside yourself to rend your gaze from him. He seemed to notice. 

Keep reading

regal.

| loki x reader | fluff | smut |

anon requested. Loki and Queen!reader??? Like they get married and she’s nervous about being queen? And he comforts her and maybe they have some fluffy smut & Dom!Loki with sub!reader (with daddy kink) after he proposes to her, keeps calling her his queen

“They’ll love you,” Loki promised, looking down at the kingdom from his balcony high overhead.

“What if they don’t?” You questioned, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“The queen of Asgard will not doubt her worth,” Loki corrected you fiercely, tilting your chin up.

The breeze blew through your gown, golden fabric swirling around you. You may not have felt royal, but Loki made sure you looked the part. He’d adorned you in gold and diamonds, with peeks of green, so you looked unmistakably his. 

“My queen, they love you already,” Loki smiled as those who saw you from below bowed and waved.

“I’m not your queen yet,” you reminded him softly, running your fingers along the railing of the balcony.

.

Loki had proposed to you during the midsommar festival. You were dressed in white, flowers woven in your hair, and you were out in the gardens, celebrating with the Asgardian subjects.

He’d gotten down on one knee, producing a ring with a delicate diamond. His proposal was straight out of a romance novel, genuine and sweet, begging you to be his.

The whole kingdom had celebrated your engagement, festivities lasting days. Everyone loved you, and everyone was excited to see you on the throne next to their king. Little girls had taken your hands and danced with you, pushing you toward Loki so he could kiss you.

.

“Come to bed, Loki,” you whispered against his back, your arms around his defined waist.

“I’ll be there in a few moments. Go rest,” he gently pushed you toward the bedroom, kissing your temple.

“I can’t sleep without you.”

“You’re making excuses,” Loki accused, though he followed you inside, closing the balcony doors.

“Maybe. But I’m nervous.”

His gaze softened, and he took your hands. 

“Come here,” Loki’s voice was quiet, and he pulled you to his chest, kissing your head. 

“Do you have your doubts about marrying me?” Loki asked seriously, his hand holding your jaw and tilting your head up to look at him. 

“Doubts about you? Never. I’m nervous about stepping into royalty. I would never doubt you,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, pushing up on your toes to kiss him. 

“How can I settle your fears?” Loki asked, and you shook your head, at a loss. You supposed you just needed to push forward, to step into it. You wanted to be brave, but the thought of ruling a kingdom was daunting.

“You are not alone. You will rule by my side, Y/N. From this moment forward, you will never be alone again,” Loki’s voice was full of certainty, and your doubts dissipated.

Your hand went around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. His lips were soft against yours, but even in his gentleness, he was authoritative and dominating. You were melting into him, letting him manhandle you to the bed. He kissed your shoulder as he slid your gown from your body, letting it fall in a pile on the floor at your feet. His hands smoothed along the curves of your body, touching you before your back hit the sheets. 

“Still nervous?”

“Just a little bit,” you answered, tilting your head back as he kissed along the underside of your jaw, down the column of your throat. 

“Then let me distract your anxious mind. Submit to me darling, let me take all of you, even the negative thoughts and the doubt,” Loki murmured, his ocean eyes boring into yours. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered, a smile pulling at your lips. 

Your god grinned, meeting you in a kiss before hauling you up to your knees. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, unsure of what he was planning. You’d expected your legs to be put over his shoulders– his preferred position, as he could hit you in the deepest places that way. 

“What are you doing to me?” you giggled softly. 

He moved to kneel behind you, a mirror appearing at the end of your bed. You gasped and leaned back into his chest, looking up at him. 

“I want you to watch, to see how regal you look with your god filling you,” his lips were hot against your ear. Loki touched your head, a crown of gold and emeralds appearing on top of your hair. 

He hauled you back onto his lap, hooking your arms around his neck. Your lashes parted and you watched him slowly fill you, sinking down onto him. Your reflection peered back at you, your body flushed, with pale hands sliding up to squeeze your chest. A whimper escaped your lips, making Loki thrust upward into you. Your fingers tangled into his soft curls, and he smiled, mouthing along your shoulder as he bounced your body on top of his, bringing his hips up to meet yours, repeatedly filling you. 

“Look at you, my queen, getting absolutely ruined on my cock. You look beautiful, darling, and I wish to see you like this forever,” Loki breathed against your neck, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror. 

“Yes, daddy, it feels heavenly,” you cried, your head dropping forward.

“No, I want you to watch.” 

Loki’s delicate hand closed around your throat, holding your head up, making you watch him fuck you. He squeezed gently, restricting your breathing as he mouthed at the tender spot on your neck that always made you weak.

You watched him repeatedly disappear inside of you, your abdomen distending with the outline of him. The sight had you soaked, allowing Loki to fuck you with ease.

Pressure slowly started to build between your hips, encouraged by Loki throbbing inside of you. 

“Daddy, I’m close, please,” you begged softly as his grip lightened on your throat, allowing you to speak. 

“I’m going to help you, just relax, darling,” he gritted, increasing the pace of his thrusts, moving quicker as he tore into your quim. You gripped his curls tightly as he dropped his other hand to your sex, drawing tiny shapes on your clit. 

Your thighs were trembling, draped over either side of his. His lap was slick with your arousal, your sex messy and wild. 

“Open your eyes,” Loki commanded, feeling you begin to spasm around him. 

You forced yourself to obey, witnessing your own orgasm in the mirror, along with his as he spilled into you. His body was cool against yours, contrasting the heat that burned through every inch of your skin. Even as he came, he was strong enough to hold you up, keeping you against his chest.

“I love you,” you stammered out, and Loki turned your head so he could kiss you. His lips were forceful against yours, fingers cradling your jaw, and an arm around your torso. 

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

“Wife-to-be,” you corrected him softly, earning another kiss meant to shut you up. 

.

You stood at the throne, a wedding ring around your finger and a crown on your head. You were adorned in the finest gown, hand-sewn by Asgardian women, all excited to make a wedding dress for their new queen. 

Loki’s hand was in yours, standing before a court of your subjects, all bowing on their knees. You’d recited their traditional vows, gone through the ceremony, and now you were being recognized as their new ruler. 

“Thank you, it is my honor to serve you,” your voice echoed through the golden halls, and a hum of approval echoed back. 

“Now, for the real festivities,” Loki announced. 

A festival commenced, the kingdom exploding in cheers and excitement. The halls were filled with dancing and feasts, all in celebration of your marriage. Loki spun you around to music, your gown swirling around your feet like a halo. Your laughter filled the room, mixing with Loki’s. When your body twisted back into his chest, he dipped you down in a kiss. 

“Queen of Asgard!” Loki cried, your subjects chanting your title after him and tossing flowers into the air. 

Overheard (TASM!PeterParker x Reader)

Summary: A moan—soft and quiet and muffled by closed glass, but very clearly coming from the other side of the velvety curtains that were blocking his view into your room. Shit. Peter gulped. Did you have a guy over? He hadn't known you'd been seeing anyone, and the thought of his best friend rolling around in the sheets with a guy he hadn't even met somehow set a flame of something ablaze in the pit of his stomach.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: lots of cursing, non-graphic but includes unseen masturbation, sexual innuendo, flirty best friends, making out & implied sex; college-aged characters

Peter's feet landed firmly on the rickety metal of your fire escape; perhaps a bit too firmly, the rusted metal creaking dangerously beneath him. He frowned—your apartment was old and rundown, but, as you mentioned each time he expressed his concerns, it was rent-controlled and much better than your childhood home in "Bumfuck Nowhere" as you so affectionally called your hometown.

He'd texted you just minutes earlier before leaving his place—it was several blocks away, but the trip was quick when superhuman agility and web-shooters were involved, so he slipped his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and checked to see if you'd replied—you hadn't.

Your curtains were drawn, which was odd. Peter knew you loved the way the sunlight filtered between the buildings and seeped into your bedroom, creating a small patch of warmth right where you'd placed that ratty old wingback chair you'd made him carry home from the Salvation Army for you. Plus, your window faced nothing but a crumbling brick wall and you claimed to love the aesthetic of urban decay.

Even if you hadn't seen his text, you'd presumably heard him landing outside your window, but the curtains remained opaque.

Peter was about halfway through processing the thought of possibly using the regular entrance to your apartment—he had a key, after all, though he'd never needed one—when he heard a sound that made his heart skip a beat and his cheeks turn deep crimson.

A moan—soft and quiet and muffled by closed glass, but very clearly coming from the other side of the velvety curtains that were blocking his view into your room.

Shit. Peter gulped. Did you have a guy over? He hadn't known you'd been seeing anyone, and the thought of his best friend rolling around in the sheets with a guy he hadn't even met somehow set a flame of something ablaze in the pit of his stomach.

Another moan, this one a little more desperate. Peter felt gross all of a sudden, but found himself frozen to the spot, overthinking the situation, as he chronically did when it came to you. It was something that couldn't be helped—he might have had super strength, but you were enough to make his knees go weak.

Still, this was invasive. It was weird. He would throw twenty-one questions at you later, when you weren't...doing whatever and whoever it was you were doing at that moment. Swallowing that odd little feeling the was clawing up his throat, Peter turned to go, but ice flooded through his veins at the next noise he heard.

Peter.

His name. Your voice. There was no doubt about it. What the fuck?

Peter allowed himself to listen, really listen, and his ears pricked at the sounds no other person would be able to hear from his current spot. The shuffle of skin writhing on soft sheets, the irregularity of quickened breath, a heartbeat like a hammer.

A heartbeat—just one. Besides his own, of course, which was currently going wild pulsing in his ears. You were alone in there. Alone with your thoughts and your fingers and his name on your lips.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Now he really had to go. The jealousy—for that was what it was—that had reared its ugly head only moments earlier had quickly shifted to something like excitement, a deep thrill, chased by a pang of shame that he had accidentally intruded on your most intimate of moments. You would absolutely murder him if you found out he'd been—

F-fuck. P—peter. It was a whimper this time, a barely there gasp.

His jeans suddenly felt tighter. Okay. He could do this. He'd slip away from the fire escape, walk around the block once, and then use the front entrance for the first time ever. That wasn't suspicious at all. He'd just stroll up the six flights of stairs to your floor, knock casually at your door, you'd pull yourself together and...well, no harm, no foul.

Peter nodded to himself and zoomed away as quietly as he could manage.

Meanwhile, coming down from a blissful high in your rumpled sheets, you reached toward your bedside table for your phone, eyes growing wide when you saw an unread message from Peter.

Just finished studying for Bio. Be there in 5.

It had been received 12 minutes ago and you knew when Peter said 5 minutes, he meant 3. Barring some psycho trying to burn New York to the ground, he'd arrived on your fire escape anywhere from 7 to 9 minutes ago when you'd been—

A knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you blanched, all colour draining from your face as you rushed to throw on a pair of yoga shorts and an old t-shirt—for fucks sake, why were the only t-shirts in arm's reach ones you'd borrowed from Peter?

You knew it was him before you opened the door—no one else came to visit you. And if he was using the front door it meant he'd been detoured from using the fire escape window and that meant—jesus christ, it meant he'd heard you getting off to the thought of him.

"Hi," you breathed, trying to play it cool as you swung the door open to reveal Peter's face. He looked guilty as sin. He hadn't even been able to keep his secret identity from you, much less something as ridiculous as overhearing you masturbating.

"Hi," Peter replied, entering as you made space for him in the doorway. He avoided your gaze and your own eyes slid over his body, noting the way he faced away from you, hands hovering awkwardly near his crotch.

"Since when do you use the front door?" you asked lightly, closing and relatching the entrance in question. Peter shrugged, settling himself on your sofa—another piece courtesy of the thrift store. Initially, he'd hated the thing, but you'd restuffed the cushions to get the lumps out and now it smelled like you—vanilla and shortbread and old books and familiarity. It had even been christened with a tomato sauce stain from when he'd brought over Aunt May's lasagna that had never fully come out, even after two years.

"How was studying?" you asked, puttering uselessly around the kitchen and ignoring the heat on your cheeks, the odd fluttering in your stomach.

"Not bad," Peter answered, "I'll ace the test." You made a noise of acknowledgement in your throat. Of course he would—he was the smartest person you knew. "What have you been up to?"

Posing the question, it was the first time Peter met your eye since arriving, twisting himself to look over at you. There was mischief in his eyes, a daring look that said I know perfectly well what you were up to and I bet you won't tell me.

You decided to give him a run for his money. "I was thinking about that time we went to the beach last summer," you said coyly, a smirk tugging up at the corners of your lips, "Remember when we got so wasted we thought skinny dipping was a good idea?"

Peter half-laughed, half-gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing prominently in his throat. "I remember," he said, "I was scratching sand out of god forsaken places for days."

"Pete," you chuckled, "There's not a single god forsaken place on your body."

That turned him red—good. There was a beat of silence and before you could blink, he had you pressed between his body and the cold laminate countertop. Damn superhero abilities.

"I could say the same for you, Y/N." His lips were hovering just over yours and from the way his hips rested against you, you could feel a bulge pressing into your abdomen. Part of you wondered if you'd fallen into a post-orgasm dreamworld, but Peter's familiar scent grounded you, reminded you that this was all very real.

"You heard, didn't you?" you whispered, not breaking eye contact. Peter licked his lips, nodded once.

"I did," he confirmed, faltering for a moment, blinking as shame pained his beautiful features, "I'm sorry—I didn't—"

"Don't apologize," you said, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and pulling him closer—if that were possible. "It's okay. It's...good." There, you'd put it out into the world. Your move, Parker.

"Yeah?" Peter's pupils had dilated and he'd leaned forward to press his forehead to your own. You swallowed thickly. He was as into this game as you were.

"Yeah," you repeated, "Because now I can do this." You kissed him, pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes to meet his lips. It wasn't the first time you'd kissed your best friend—not by a long shot—but it was the first time you'd kissed him like this, like your entire existence depended on it. He responded in kind, thumb coming up to caress your cheek as he deepened the kiss. He pressed himself further into you, using one had to lift you up onto the countertop. That in itself as enough to make you groan—he was so strong.

Peter settled himself between your thighs, kissing you with abandon, allowing his tongue to swirl against your own, pausing only to nip at your bottom lip, kiss along your jaw, bite gently on your ear lobe. For their part, your own hands skidded along his muscular arms, coming to rest on his shoulders and then at the nape of his neck, tugging at his mussed hair and eliciting a noise of approval from him. You found that you liked it very much and wondered what other noises you could get him to make.

Peter broke his lips away from you for a moment, the sheer willpower of such a pause making him light-headed. "You sounded so pretty," he said, "With my name on your lips."

Your mouth made a little "o" as you blushed deeply, the comment somehow innocent and lewd all at once. "Well," you replied, gathering yourself, "I hope you'll do me the kindness of letting me hear the same from you." The thought of your name falling from his lips in ecstasy had you shifting in your seat for some friction.

Peter smiled wickedly, "Oh, Y/N, I'll do you any kindness you want."

she knows what nancy listens to.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.

luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader

James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 

He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.

"It's not about irritating me," you say. 

"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 

"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 

"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 

What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 

James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 

"You alright?" the smoother asks.

You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 

"Lovely."

"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 

James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 

"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 

Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.

"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 

"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 

Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 

Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 

You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 

"And what do you do?" you ask him. 

He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 

"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.

"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 

James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."

"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 

"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 

Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.

"Woah," James says, beaming.  

Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 

"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 

𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 ⋅𖥔⋅ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

—pairings: eddie munson x sunshine!female!reader

—summary: after meeting y/n, eddie feels he needs to protect her.

—warnings: mutual pining, eddie being a terrified mess but also a pining idiot for 2.8k words because there’s nothing softer.

—word count: 2.8k

—additional notes: posting this before i go to work so i hope whoever reads enjoys, comments and reblogs always appreciated </33

Eddie had already been terrified enough, hiding from everyone in an attempt to escape from inevitable arrest, if they found a girl in his school year dead in his trailer, he was sure he would be the first suspect. But the fear he felt only heightened when he heard the rustle of car wheels break outside the house he was resided in.

So, when he moved to lay underneath the tarp in the boathouse, he tried to control his shaking upon the door creaking open with uninvited voices joining the party. He held his breath, refusing to utter a sound in fear of being caught.

However, he inhales a sharp breath when the end of the tarp starts getting poked, two voices bickering from outside and Eddie clutches his makeshift weaponised bottle closer to his chest as he awaits to attack in hopes he could escape, unsure of where he would even go next.

The rustling stopped, and he lets his mind focus for a moment while the voices continue across the small room. Deciding that while they’re distracted, he’ll attack and then make a run for it, Eddie whips the tarp off and aims for the first person he can see.

Streams of screaming enters the room as he pushes the frame against the boathouse wall, holding the cracked bottle up to his neck while he fights against his grip. He can hear his name being shouted, feeling like far away in the distance, but as it continues on through his deep breathing, he turns when it suddenly starts to sound familiar.

“It’s me. It’s Dustin. This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?” he glances back to Steve in front, but by how frightened Eddie was, he doesn’t loosen his grip on the man’s shoulder or of his bottle, even when he whispers back, “right, yeah.”

Steve’s told to drop the oar and Eddie hears the battering from beside him, causing him to jump while pressing the bottle further against Steve’s skin, threatening to penetrate it. His breath is ragged and rushed as he listens to Dustin continue to use assurance against him while Steve’s whispering, “I’m cool, man. I’m cool.”

“What are you doing here?” he finally asks, “we’re looking for you,” responds Dustin. “We’re here to help you,” his threatened yet feared expression drops at the unfamiliar voice, head turning back to face the group, only to now see the figures behind Dustin.

Max, who he knew as his neighbour, Robin, who he was also acquainted to, and quite possibly the most beautiful person he had ever seen beside her. Her voice was soft, far more assuring than Dustin’s and calmed Eddie’s nerves all the while looking at her indulgent gaze, a feeling of non-judgement and tenderness packed into one.

His breathing was heavy, yet he was sure Steve could hear it steady as Dustin begins to introduce them, “Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band.” He feels more relaxed when Dustin points to her, while she makes a weak attempt of imitating a trumpet.

“This is Max. The one who never wants to play D&D,” and she sends a small wave in return, “… and who’s that?” Eddie asks without a beat, nodding towards the girl on the end who smiles at him softly, even when his tone sounded harsh, “this is Y/n. I’ve told you about her before.”

Right. The sunshine and rainbow girl, Eddie thinks, remembering how Dustin and Mike would always refer to her as. His eyes lightly scan down her frame, a dress adorning her and almost making him instantly dizzy as he loses focus.

“Eddie.” His eyes abruptly snap back to Dustin upon his voice, “we’re on your side.” He realises he still has a grip against Steve and listens as the group all begin to swear on Dustin’s mother, the voices around him overwhelming him as he hesitantly moves away from Steve, his grip faltering as he walks to the side to slide down the wall.

Flashbacks of Chrissy’s death continue to haunt Eddie’s mind, what was supposed to be a minor and confidential drug deal with the cheerleader in his year, turned into quite possibly the worst moment of his life. He didn’t do anything and has no idea what happened but the images from back at the trailer continue to appear and cause tears to well up in his eyes, as they have been ever since he has went in hiding.

His hands were shaking atop his lap as he rests against the wall, hardly noticing Dustin’s crouch until he felt his hand near the bottle in his grip, pulling it away from him. He shakes his head at Dustin’s continued assurance, knowing if he told them what he saw, they would bid him crazy.

“We want to know what happened,” he closes his eyes upon Robin’s words, allowing the tears to escape and float down his cheeks and as he sniffles before turning back to the group, “you won’t believe me.” Everyone is around him, Steve sitting over the side as he holds his neck, but Eddie quickly shifts his glance back to Y/n, the way she looked at him, comforting and with assurance, only caused him to do so, allowing them to hear about everything.

From that moment on, Eddie grew not only a liking to Y/n but a flourishing fondness for her whenever the group were present to help him. Dustin and Mike were right, she was all sunshine and the immense fear he felt living in that house himself as a wanted man would vanish into thin air the second they arrived, Y/n sporting her wide and kind smile.

The moment there was sudden noise from out-with the boathouse, Eddie would try to rush them into leaving, hand reaching for Y/n’s arm to move her away anxiously while a guilty wave washes over his frame from dragging them into this.

Eddie thought he must’ve looked crazy, flinching at any noise that weren’t within the group, wide-eyed and forcing as much food and drink down his throat whenever they brought more over. There couldn’t have been a worse time for Y/n to meet him, an innocent man terrified while on the run from being framed with murder.

But she never showed judgement. Y/n was always smiling at him, whenever he would get too anxious, her hand would fall atop his to gently bring him back down, offering to always talk when he needed. And when he would watch them leave, walking back to Steve’s car down the path, Eddie would yearn for her until they return.

However, it didn’t take long until they were together almost all the time. Just not in a way Eddie would want. When he thought his situation couldn’t get more complicated and anxiety-building, Jason and his group found him which led him escaping to Skull Rock where he awaited his friend's return.

Which directed them to devising a plan, and suddenly he was taking Y/n’s hand to help her steadily step upon the boat's wooden panels as they collectively search for the open gate. Once they were down the lake, Eddie tears his glance from the children by the ground afar and toward the large open lake, wondering how and why he got into the position he was in at that moment, while they await Steve’s return from searching underwater.

Eddie’s focus diminishes for a moment too long, eyes flickering to follow the white glittering water rippling across from the reflection of the moon above, yet his mind far from in front of him. But before it can get too distant, before he finds himself backtracking too long and sending himself into a spiral, a hand lands on his knee.

He tenses beneath the touch, head refusing to move in acknowledgement but his eyes glancing in wonder from the water and to his jeans, and nearly falls back off the boat and into the water when Y/n’s breath grazes his cheek, whispering into his ear, “hey, don’t stray too far from us.”

“Hm?” Eddie murmurs, nudging his head to the side and close to Y/n. She giggles lowly, trying to keep quiet but Eddie notices Robin’s glance their way before smirking knowingly at Nancy, her knee bouncing anxiously as Nancy gazes at her watch.

“You looked like you were far away in thought.”

“Oh, yeah,” he drags out the ‘yeah’ with a deep rasp, “I mean, just thinking about how selling a cheerleader some weed leads me to running away from cops and also my own sanity as well as hearing about this real-life d and d shit. Does stuff to a guy, you know?”.

Y/n nods, Eddie watching her expression as she does so, flitting from the little hairs against her forehead straying from the wind and down to her lips which tug upwards in a soft, kind smile. Eddie really wanted to kiss her. And with the way this was going down, he might take a chance, given the life-threatening ordeal he was dealing with.

How could someone so innocent and full of optimism and sunshine be involved with this entire upside-down world, fighting off monsters alongside Steve Harrington and Dustin through these years he sat idly caring about Dungeons and Dragons.

To Eddie, Y/n was an extraordinary person, a masterpiece to the eyes, her personality and forgiven nature a saint in disguise. Not even the sun was as bright to Eddie, not as soon as she stepped through that door, beside her friends to protect him.

But he wanted to protect her, it should be the other way around, right?

Eddie was the metal head, and Y/n was the angel. That’s how it works.

And a nasty, gut feeling settles across Eddie’s stomach as he realises their situation. Wanting to protect her, and here they were, apparently above a gate to this other dimension where God-knows what is controlled by the master puppet, Vecna. And she sat beside him in that very boat crossing the lake.

“I can imagine,” Y/n’s words snapped Eddie from his minds attempt to escape once again, and he furrows his brows from nearly forgetting what they were talking about. “Say, could you— I mean obviously once we’re all out of this Vecna thing— which I hope is soon—” Eddie’s lips quirk into a smirk as he leans his head down to Y/n’s level, elbow nudging hers teasingly, “spit it out, buttercup. We don’t have long, you know?”.

Y/n chuckles quickly at his teasing words, “could you teach me Dungeons and Dragons? I mean only if you’d like to, of course! Lucas said he’d teach me, but I get the feeling Eddie Munson would be a greater teacher at it.”

Eddie could have died happily over-the-moon at that moment. Forget the Vecna shit, the gates and running from the law. Fuck all of that when the girl he already adores, eyes prettily looking at his own, is asking him to teach her his game.

He nearly, just nearly, lets his mind wander once again, wanting to picture Y/n in a Hellfire shirt from the second she had asked the question.

How could Eddie say no? In what world did she think he would?

“Give me your size and you’ll have the Hellfire shirt in the snap of a finger, sunshine,” Eddie watches as Y/n’s body language visibly flusters, eyes snapping from his and to her lap, trying to contain her smile as lines arch across the corner of her lips, shifting in her spot with excited glee.

Robin tears her watch from the pining pair and towards Nancy, speaking through her scared sigh, “where we at, Wheeler?”. Nancy glances back up at their friend after checking her watch, Eddie and Y/n dropping their conversation to focus, “closing in on a minute.”

“Okay.”

They all go silent, awaiting the return of Steve anxiously and Eddie leans his lower back against the boat while they all watch the water, his arm dropping to rest behind Y/n. But before Eddie can get too comfortable, a sudden burst of noise causes them all to flinch as Steve jumps from the water.

“Oh, Christ!” Eddie’s the only one to yell as the rest exclaim in fright, Y/n holding her chest while they all catch their breath. Listening to Steve explain what he saw, the snack-sized gate hidden at the bottom of the lake.

However, before much more can be discussed, Steve’s pulled under, only shortly as his hands that grip the edge of the boat pull him back up. “Steve…” Y/n eerily trails off, everyone confused and looking around.

“Yeah?”

“Get back on the boat.”

 “Yeah, good call.”

Steve starts to lift his body out of the water, hand reaching for Y/n’s extended one but just as they graze, he’s submerged within the water again. His whole body being brought below in one firm pull, and he’s suddenly nowhere in sight.

This time they all scream, Steve’s name flown into the late-night empty air as they all lean over the boat to frantically search for any sign of him. Yet, while a glittery glint crosses the water, the lake is pitch black beneath, unable to get proper sight of anything unless underwater yourself.

“We have to go in!” Y/n exclaims between all their shouting, Eddie body jerking atop the boat frantically as his eyebrows furrow, “what do you mean ‘we have to go in’? Like hell are we going in.” Eddie’s hand wraps around Y/n’s upper arm, pulling her back when she stands up, both girls shouting towards Nancy who towers her body above the water.

Before they knew it, Nancy was jumping under the water, leaving with a quick ‘just wait here’. And Eddie is suddenly yelling again as they watch the next person dive beneath the water.

“Y/n, for the love of Christ, will you sit down? you’re freaking me the fuck out!” Eddie’s grip tugs Y/n who’s still standing on the rocking boat. Y/n refuses to budge, mind reeling as she debates following swiftly behind Nancy, but before she can decide, Eddie’s loud voice booms once more, “Robin, no, no, no, no!”.

Y/n looks to her side where Robin perches against the edge, testing Eddie’s patience as she falls backwards into the open water to follow Nancy towards the other gate, nodding to Y/n before she leaned back.

This time Eddie’s grip tightens against Y/n’s arm and he fears he may bruise her, but he refuses to let go in fear she’ll not only put herself in danger but leave him alone. It’s protective. The way Eddie tries to keep only her by his side and above the water, but if Y/n falls beneath the sheet of water, Eddie knows he will immediately be following behind.

“Eddie,” Y/n’s voice cuts in, Eddie already knowing what she’s going to say with a fast, ‘no’ following. “Let go of me,” but Eddie pulls her towards him in an attempt to sit her down, but her legs only shift back, refusing to bend down, and she nearly falls off the boat. Eddie freaks out, hand leaving her bicep to rest against her back so she doesn’t topple over and he puffs out shaky breaths as they go silent.

“Don’t leave me alone, can’t let you go down there,” Eddie ushers, desperate and scared, voice rushed and unhappy. “They’re my friends, I’m sorry,” Y/n looks behind her, locking eyes with Eddie’s dark pupils, begging her to stick to his side.

Ever the actress, Eddie watches as her eyes glance to behind him, widening in fear as she gasps, “Dustin! What are you doing here?”. Eddie’s quick to react, turning to the open water behind him as he believes he’ll catch his younger friend swimming towards the boat, only to be met with a blank view.

Eddie’s eyes close in pent up anger as he hears a splash, not having to see to know Y/n’s tricked him into letting her go. Causing Eddie to shout, loud and clear into the night as he stands from his spot, facing the way Y/n left.

“Goddamn it, lying son of a… bitch!”

Why did he like someone so caring and ready to put herself in danger for others, willing to lie right to his face in order to escape his grip? Why did he like Y/n when he knew the second any danger arises, he was now more-than-willing to fall headfirst in attempts to protect her?

But that’s exactly why he did like her, Eddie’s mind reeling in increasing fear as the seconds pass too quickly in his head, muttering ‘this is so stupid’ repeatedly as he grips the boat while tumbling over. Headfirst into the life-threatening scenario.

Oh, yes. Eddie thought, he was definitely going to kiss her the second he crossed this gate. As he swam down the water behind Y/n’s disappearing frame, it was as clear as day to him.

⤸

taglist form . the library . eddie munson masterlist

taglist in reblog.

When Y/n has nothing to do, she watches her boyfriend study. This sight slightly turns her on.

My first attempt at smut, don't hate it pls (but if you don't like it I'll delete because it's embarrassing lmao)

Of course it's 18+ but I can't control who reads my stuff so just idk pls don't read if you're under 18 I guess?

Pairing: dom!Remus Lupin x sub!reader

The reader pronouns: she/her

Words count: 963

Tw: basically just smut with a little plot lol, bad English probably because this isn't proofread

Contains: 'intelligence' kink or something (basically Y/n being turned on by Remus being smart), dumbification, Remus being mean, the use of a petname 'bunny'

It's all consensual and all characters are above the age of 18

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So smart

It was a busy Saturday, everyone was occupied with something today. James and Sirius had to practice quidditch and Peter wouldn't be himself if he didn't watch. The girls were out in Hogsmeade. Remus was alone in the dorm, studying for the last exam. Last, as in the last of all exams, so very important. Y/n seemed to be the only person, who didn't have anything to do that day. She sneaked in the boy's dorm.

"Hey, Rem, whatchu doing?" She asked, sitting on the bed next to Remus' desk.

"Oh, hi. I'm studying for the potions test." The boy replied, not moving his eyes from the book he was studying from. "You can stay if you want."

He looked so focused, so smart. Y/n considered his intelligence very attractive. And he wasn't book smart, he was a naturally smart person with the passion for studying.

Y/n watched him study. The way Remus truly paid attention to every word his eyes traced somehow turned the girl on. Even if Remus looked attractive when focused, Y/n had to interrupt him. She stood up and moved to sit on his desk.

"Hi," she gave him a flirty smile when he looked at her.

"Ummm, hello," Remus awkwardly weaved at his girlfriend even though she was a few inches away.

"I can't help, but feel horny when I see you all smart and focused."

Remus chuckled at the confession. "Bunny, I appreciate that, but I have to study. You should consider it as well."

"But I need you..."

Y/n took her boyfriend's hand and placed it on her lap, sliding it under her skirt. Remus gulped, he felt a bulge growing in his trousers.

"I, I, uhhh, I really need to study, you have to understand that, Y/n." He stuttered, but it rather sounded as if he was trying to make himself believe that.

"We both know you don't need to." Y/n put Remus' fingers on her thongs where her clit was underneath. "You're so intelligent and genius. It turns me on so much, d'you now?" Y/n moaned when her boyfriend's fingers were circling her clothed clit.

Turned on by this sight, Remus got up from his chair and stood between his girlfriend's legs. He grabbed her under her thighs and moved to the bed.

"What if someone walks in?" Y/n questioned.

"Please, don't act like you care suddenly." Remus snickered.

He started kissing her neck, sucking the skin occasionally. They both knew he'll leave hickeys, neither of them minded that.

"We ought to be quick, I still have to study." Remus announced in a completely serious tone of voice.

Realizing how little time they have, the couple didn't bother to take off the upper parts of clothing. In fact, Remus didn't even bother to take off Y/n's skirt, he just quickly slid off her thongs and took off his own pants and underwear.

It was no secret Remus had a big dick. Being aware of his size, he was always careful and gentle in the order to not hurt Y/n. Or at least not hurt her in a way she didn't want to be hurt, because sometimes she begged for it. Not today though.

"So wet for me." Remus whispered as the tip of his cock teased Y/n, sliding up and down her pussy lips.

"Fuck me, Remus." Y/n begged.

"What was that?" He slapped her thigh. "Where are your good manners, bunny?"

"Please, fuck me, please."

"Now that's more like it."

Without any more teasing, Remus easily slid his dick inside. At first he moved slowly, making sure everything's alright.

"Faster, please." Y/n requested and so her boyfriend did.

The sloppy sound of wetness mixed with moans and groans filled the room. Y/n put her hands on her face when she felt her orgasm approaching.

"No, no, no, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum." Remus ordered, grabbing Y/n's wrists to pull her hands away from her face. "Your brain must be so empty right now, huh? So dumb, just the thoughts of how good my dick is making you feel."

"Mhm." Y/n nodded. She couldn't speak, it was impossible at the moment. She was so close.

In seconds, Y/n felt the weave of orgasm washing through her body. For a moment her vision went blank, the world didn't exist for a brief moment.

"Ugh, fuck." Remus groaned, experiencing his own orgasm. He grabbed Y/n's hips, aggressively thrusting into her. "I love how your pussy feels around my cock."

Remus pulled out and with one quick move of his wand cleaned Y/n up. She was still lieing on the bed in her post-orgasm bliss. Remus grabbed her face in his one hand and placed a kiss on the top of her nose.

"So stupid, so precious." He whispered, causing Y/n to smile.

After putting back on his underwear and his trousers, Remus got back to his book. Y/n decided to stay on the bed. It wouldn't be a very good idea to get up with trembling legs.

Suddenly, the door of the dorm opened and the three other Gryffindors walked in. Both James and Sirius were dressed in the house's quidditch team uniforms, both covered in dirt. Yeah, they trainings are never clean. Nor normal. Peter was clean though.

"Hello," Remus greeted his friends with a short weave of hand.

"Uhh, what are you doing here?" James questioned, seeing Y/n still not quite back to herself and with messy hair.

Y/n pointed at Remus, who had his eyes fixated on the book again. "He's just railed the shit out of me and now he's studying as if nothing happened."