#So we bought a blanket and one would warm up then give it back to the other

[sastielsfandom]

I don't know why people don't realize how cold I get, they assume I easily overheat when it's quite the opposite. I'll be there shivering in warm weather and won't be able to warm up. Last winter I was outside in the cold with my sister waiting outside the hotel for like an hour or two. When we finally got in, even with the heater, and being underneath all the blankets, I had warm clothing and socks, I couldn't warm up for the life of me. I was shivering, teeth chattering even with my sisters next to me as an attempt to warm up, did nothing. It took hours before I finally did manage to get warm. It was awful. Right now I don't have a blanket, it's so cold in here, there's no heater, and only three blankets but one is laid down and can't be used to cover up. So really there's only two usable blankets. I'm glad my younger siblings got them but it's so painful being cold right now. I wish we had more. I at least have socks and a sweater but I'm still very cold.

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSPIDER LILIES IN THE CRIBㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Peter Parker x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : Your baby dies, and you forget how to breathe—Peter forgets how to let go.

☆⁠ WARNINGS : Angst, hurt/comfort, child loss, trauma bonding, obsessive love.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

You were glowing.

Peter would always say it—even now, even when your skin is pale and your hair is a tangled mess on the pillow. Even when your eyes are hollow and your lips haven't smiled in months. He still whispers it into the silence of your bedroom, "You were glowing."

Because you were.

When you told him you were pregnant, Peter cried. Not the way someone cries when they’re scared or hurt. No, this was the kind of crying that made him fall to his knees and laugh at the same time. Because you were everything to him. You were his entire world, and now you were giving him another one.

He had a name picked out. Drew Parker if it was a girl. Ben if it was a boy.

He talked to your stomach every night, told your baby stories about his Uncle Ben, about Aunt May, about what kind of kid he hoped they'd be. Brave. Kind. A little weird. Like their mom.

But the baby didn’t cry.

The room was too quiet. You were too quiet. Peter was screaming. The doctors were yelling. You passed out from the blood loss, and he swore he saw his whole world bleed out of you.

They handed him a lifeless body in a soft blue blanket. And Peter—God—Peter held it. Held it like it was still warm. He whispered, "It's okay, Daddy's here." But the baby was gone. Already gone.

You didn’t come back after that.

You woke up, but you weren’t there. Not really. You didn’t talk. You didn’t look at him. You didn’t scream or cry or scream at the sky like he did. You just laid there. Breathing. Barely.

Peter brought flowers. You didn’t touch them. He cooked. You didn’t eat. He tried jokes. Nothing. He started reading to you, every night, old comics, poetry, the news. He even read science journals, anything to fill the silence.

You weren’t you anymore.

And Peter? Peter was losing his mind.

His obsession didn't start now.

It started when he was fifteen. With guilt. With responsibility.

But you changed it. You were the only thing in this cruel, broken city that made him feel like a human being. Not just a masked hero or a walking graveyard of everyone he’d failed.

So when he lost the baby, and you slipped away, Peter couldn't handle it.

He started isolating himself. Skipping patrols. Snapping at MJ. Ignoring the Avengers' calls. He couldn’t leave you. What if you needed him and he wasn’t there? What if you tried to hurt yourself? What if you forgot how much he loved you?

He moved his workstation into the bedroom. Monitors, web fluid, everything. He started sleeping on the floor, by your side. Never leaving. His beard grew in. His eyes were bloodshot. But he never left.

"You're not alone," he’d whisper. "I'm here, baby. Always."

Weeks passed. Then months.

One night, he kissed your hand and swore it twitched. He latched onto that like a man dying of thirst.

He bought you a new robe. He brushed your hair while talking to you like you were answering back. He framed the baby’s ultrasound. He needed you to see it every day. “You remember, don’t you?” he'd say softly. “You were so excited. You cried. You said we were gonna be a family.”

Peter was spiraling. Not in an angry, aggressive way. He never raised his voice. He just sank. Into you. Into the bed. Into the memory of your laughter.

He started hallucinating your voice. Sometimes he’d smile and reply like you had said something. Sometimes he’d look at you and say “Don't worry, sweetheart, I’ll bring them back. I’ll fix it.”

You never answered.

He hasn’t buried the baby yet.

The body’s still in the freezer at the lab. He keeps saying he’s working on something—on maybe—on what if. No one knows. Not even MJ.

And every night, he lays beside you and whispers,

“I’ll fix this. I swear. Just stay. Just hold on.”

You didn’t look at him.

Not when he read to you.

Not when he brushed your hair.

Not when he whispered “I love you” like a broken prayer.

But your chest still rose and fell. And that was enough.

To Peter, that meant you were still fighting. Somewhere inside all the silence, you were still you. Just…buried under all that pain. Buried under that cold, still hospital room where he held your baby and begged a corpse to breathe.

It’s been five months now. The sunlight hits your cheek some mornings, and Peter holds his breath like that’ll be the day. The day you turn and blink and say his name.

You don’t.

But he’s learned how to live in the pause.

Peter talks to the baby now.

Not just in your stomach. Not in dreams. But in reality—to the small, still body cryogenically sealed in his lab.

He talks to him like he's right there, asking:

"Would you have had my eyes or hers?"

"Would you have hated math like her?"

"Would you have made her laugh the way I used to?"

He visits the lab every night, logs in with trembling hands, stares at the frost-coated glass, and says, “I’m going to fix this.”

Because somewhere in his fractured mind, Peter believes he can undo death.

Not for the world.

Not for Gwen.

Just for you.

Just so you’ll come back to him. Just so you'll open your eyes and be you again.

He stopped being Spider-Man.

New York doesn't notice at first.

Miles fills in. The other heroes think he's taking a break. They think he's grieving. They think Peter’s just being human.

They don’t know he hasn’t left the apartment in a week.

They don’t know he cut a hole in the wall to make the webbing dispenser reach your bed, just in case you ever tried to leave without him.

They don’t know he keeps your toothbrush clean and your favorite mug full, even though you never drink.

You’re not dead. But you’re not alive either.

And Peter lives in that in-between space like it’s sacred ground. Like maybe, if he’s good enough, if he just loves you enough, he can drag you back from the edge.

The day you scream is the day everything breaks.

It happens out of nowhere.

Peter’s reading again—some old sci-fi book you used to like—and you scream. A raw, primal, bone-deep sound.

He drops the book. Crawls to you. He’s sobbing, holding your face in his hands.

“Baby, look at me—look at me—it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here—”

You slap him.

Hard.

And then you start crying. Not pretty tears. Not cinematic grief. Ugly crying. Hurt crying. Animal crying. And Peter holds you through it like your screams aren’t ripping out pieces of his soul.

You hit him again. You curse. You say you hate him. You ask why the baby died. You ask why you’re still here.

Peter never answers.

He just kisses your forehead and whispers:

“Because I need you.”

“Because I’m not letting you go.”

“Because I love you too much to bury you too.”

After your scream, he refuses to leave your side for a second. Even when you sleep, he holds your hand. Even when you eat, he cuts the food. He’s afraid if he blinks too long, you’ll disappear again.

He has violent outbursts now. Not at you. Never. But at mirrors. At walls. At the world. He hates anyone who smiles. He resents anyone who has a child. He avoids hospitals like they’re graves.

He talks to you like you’re made of glass. “Don’t push yourself.” “You don’t have to smile.” “You’re enough. Just breathe for me, that’s all.” But there’s a terrifying edge under the softness. Like if anyone but him tried to help, he’d snap their neck.

Peter isn’t just your husband anymore. He’s your caretaker. Your doctor. Your priest. Your prison guard. Your everything. Because he needs to be. Because if he’s not, he has no purpose.

“You died too,” you whisper once, voice wrecked from months of silence.

Peter holds you tighter. Shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly, pulling your hand to his heart.

“I started dying. But I can’t. Not until you live again.”

And in the dark of the lab, the baby’s body is still frozen.

Waiting.

Because Peter hasn’t given up.

He never will.

You woke up to the smell of rain and the whisper of your name.

Your body still felt like a tomb, but something was different.

There was light. Warmth. Movement.

And Peter—hovering by the door—his face pale, eyes wild, fingers twitching like he’d just stolen fire from the gods.

You sat up, weak and shaking.

“Peter?”

Your voice was rough, unused.

But he dropped to his knees like it was the first sound of life he’d heard in centuries.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at you with tear-glossed eyes and a strange smile. A haunted, delirious, hope-drunk smile.

And then he whispered:

“He’s back.”

Peter lost his mind.

Obsession wasn’t new to him—it’s why he became Spider-Man. Why he kept fighting. Why he’s buried half his friends and still refused to stop.

But this time, he didn’t fight for the world.

He fought for one breath. One heartbeat. One cry.

One baby boy.

He begged help from Reed Richards, blackmailed Norman Osborn, broke into Dr. Strange’s sanctum, and bled for it. Quite literally.

He used forbidden biotech and unstable quantum timelines.

He didn’t even know if it would work. But he did it anyway.

Because you weren’t you anymore. And if the baby came back, maybe you'd come back too.

And then—

A cry.

A gasp.

A small, choking, impossible breath.

Not a clone. Not a dream.

Your son.

Alive.

Peter didn’t name him yet.

He wanted you to do that.

Because he needed you to believe it was real.

You don’t speak. Don’t sob.

You just tremble.

Peter stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, lips against your temple, whispering:

“He’s real.”

“You can feel him, right?”

“You’re not dreaming, baby, you’re not dreaming…”

And when your fingers graze your son’s tiny chest and feel it rise—

Something inside you shatters and mends all at once.

You start crying so hard, you can’t breathe. You scream into Peter’s shoulder, clutching the baby like the world could take him again if you let go.

And Peter cries too. Because he won.

He brought you back.

He brought both of you back.

You get better.

You sleep curled around your son like a dragon guarding treasure. Peter sleeps beside you both, hand resting on your waist like an anchor.

The laughter is slow to return. Quiet. Nervous. But it does. You laugh when Peter changes a diaper wrong. You laugh when the baby pees on his face. Peter cry when you laugh.

You name him Benjamin May Parker. Ben, for Uncle Ben. May, for the woman who raised Peter. When you say it out loud, Peter drops to his knees. It’s the first time in years he feels whole.

Therapy. Gentle sunlight. Soft music. Walks in the park. Peter carries the baby, but never stops watching you like you might vanish again.

You touch him again. Kiss him. Pull him into bed one night and say, “I’m sorry I left you.”

He shakes his head. “You didn’t. I never let you.”

Peter now—still unhinged, but softer.

He’s scary good at being a father. Changes every diaper. Takes every night shift. Wears the baby in a sling while web-slinging (you yell at him for this constantly).

The apartment is a fortress. Baby monitors, reinforced windows, Spider-Tech crib that could survive a nuke. He once webbed a stranger for getting too close to the stroller.

He worships you. Kisses your stretch marks. Talks to your body like it’s sacred. Whispers, “You made him. You brought him here. You’re everything.”

He terrified of losing you again. Still checks if you’re breathing when you sleep. Still wakes up in cold sweats. Still holds your wedding ring like it’s a talisman.

And sometimes, when the baby sleeps…

You both sit on the floor, back against the wall, holding each other.

No masks. No saving the world. Just the three of you.

Survivors.

You look at him—your brilliant, broken, beautiful husband—and whisper:

“You saved me.”

He shakes his head, eyes wet.

“No,” he says, kissing your fingers, voice cracking—

“You saved me.”

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[fizzyapplecandy]

The one with the shy bunny and the rowdy cat Part 1

Part 2 Part 3 Final

Ateez Seonghwa X Wooyoung X Reader

Owner Seonghwa X Cat hybrid Wooyoung X Bunny hybrid Reader

Genre and warnings: poly relationship (no mxm, just with the reader) hybrid, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, angst, heavy themes, mature language, happy ending

Word count: 6.2k

You thought you had run out of options. It was pouring outside, and a couple of aggressive dog hybrids made you move from your favourite spot behind the mall. There, you managed to make yourself a little living space. Being a stray wasn't easy, and life loved to remind you from time to time. Luckily, there seemed to be a little bench in front of a small bakery. The roof did enough to cover you, so you'd be good for the night. What you didn't expect was to be confronted by another hybrid - this time a cat. You were expecting the worst, making a new friend wasn't on your mind at all.

"Are you cold bunny? I can get my owner to make you some hot chocolate?"

This will probably be a two-part imagine, maybe three if I feel like it needs it. Stay tuned for the next update!

Lots of love, and happy reading X

.

.

Life hasn't been easy in the past couple of months. You ran away from your previous home after the owner nearly beat you unconscious. He didn't give much shit about you, so he hasn't even tried looking for you.

You suppose it was your fault. At the end of the day, he wanted a cute, shy bunny to play with, and you were the complete opposite. Although now your self confidence went down drastically, and you remained a shell of what you once were.

Five months ago you were in a shelter, having fun with your fellow hybrids, when Jisung came. He looked and smelled nice, and you instantly gravitated towards him. The workers at your shelter told him you were quite confident, and you knew how to take care of yourself. You were the tiniest one in the litter, so you had to toughen up over the years.

It didn't take long for him to change his approach towards you. The first month went smoothly, but then he became more aggressive. Pets on the head became slaps on your cheek, food had to be earned, and you could only wear the clothes he bought you. No, there weren't pretty dresses and your favourite soft jumpers. There were only tight mini skirts and revealing tops. You were hungry, cold, tired and emotionally drained. It's not like you didn't try to fight back. Truly, you did. However, the amount of force he would use soon made you cower away.

One day, about two months ago, he left for a work trip and told you to stay put. He would be back by the end of the day, and you were to wait patiently. Maybe he was careless, maybe he even wanted you to run, because he left the key to the front door beside the shoe rack. It was a bit hidden, but your keen senses managed to help you find it. You dressed in the warmest clothes you owned, and out the door you went.

People on the street took pity on you, so they often gave you food, and sometimes even a warm blanket. You wish you knew the way to the shelter, but you were a lost cause. Some nights you cried yourself to sleep, others you ran until your feet hurt because the other stray hybrids weren't as nice as you thought.

You made yourself comfortable behind a closed mall, with a makeshift bed and a slight roof over your head. It was still early fall, and you had some time to think about what you were going to do in the winter. There was no chance to survive in the cold, with you being a bunny.

Your thoughts were interrupted when three stray dog hybrids made their way in front of you and your small shelter.

"Hey rabbit! Move, now."

"I-I'm a bunny."

The biggest of them scoffed before grabbing your arm and pulling you up.

"We do not care. Move it bitch!"

He threw you to the floor just as the rain started picking up. You had no other choice but to run, and you had no clue where you were going. You could still hear them laughing at you, and your eyes filled with tears. This was going to become an everyday thing for you now. Maybe you should have just stayed by Jisung's side. That way you would have had a warm bed at least, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

You tried running faster as the rain came pouring down, but you were too distracted by your own thoughts. It seemed like the street had no end.

Just as you were about to crouch down and give up, you saw a little bench in front of what seemed to be a bakery. The lights were off, and the roof covered the bench just enough to shelter you from the rain. Exhausted, you crashed onto the seat and pulled your knees towards your chest. You were freezing at this point, your thin rain soaked sweater doing a piss poor job at keeping you warm. You made peace with your destiny for tonight, and you were about to close your eyes and huddle into yourself when you heard the door beside you open.

"Oh! Hello there! I could smell you from inside you know? Your anxiety is freaking me out!"

Your eyes went wide, ears flat against your head. There stood a man, a hybrid it seemed, with his hands on his hips and a grin on his face.

"So, what are you doing here? It's pouring out there, you should go home! My hyung would be really mad at me if I stayed in the rain like this. And where is your jacket? Does your owner not make you wear one? I swear Hwa would have a heart attack if I went out without one!"

He seemed to be energetic. It's when you noticed the black cat ears on top of his head. They blended in with his dark hair, so it took you a minute. The cat hybrid continued ranting while you sat there almost speechless.

"Do you talk? You know how to, right? I know bunnies can be afraid, but hey I'm cool! I can be your friend you know? Hwa likes it when I make friends because then I don't bother him all day long. Hey, let's be friends!"

He rushed towards you and it made you freak out. Before he could reach the bench you stood up, stumbled on your clumsy feet and landed on your ass in front of him. The cat was taken aback, and he froze when he saw your hands covering your head, your shoulders shaking from fear.

"Oh... Sorry bunny. I don't... I just wanted to sit next to you..."

He slowly crouched down to your level, balancing his elbows on his knees.

"I'm Wooyoung. I'm a black cat. Hwa says I'm usually too straightforward, and I can see it now. What's your name?"

You still held your hands above you, only letting out small sniffles. It took everything in you not to cry, but you were barely holding on.

"Okay... You don't have to tell me yet. But hey..."

He shuffled a bit closer, but you didn't have it in you to move again.

"Are you cold bunny? I can get my owner to make you some hot chocolate?"

Hot chocolate? You haven't had anything sweet in a while. The offer was tempting, but you were still afraid. What if he was just saying that to lure you in?

Wooyoung cleared his throat.

"Or maybe... I can get you one of his carrot cakes? How's that?"

Oh my... A carrot cake? Why did he have to offer that? The thought of a carrot made your mouth go dry. The last time you had one was months ago, and you loved carrots.

You slowly lowered your hands and peaked at him. He was still crouched down, and he didn't attempt to move closer. You had to give it to him, he was persistent. Looking better at his face, he was handsome as well. The little mole under his eye was cute. He smiled when he noticed you were checking him out, and he slowly shuffled forward.

"Hmm... Carrot cake it is. Wait here, don't go, I'll be right back!"

He was up and running inside in a flash, and it gave you a moment to breathe.

Maybe he really wanted to befriend you?

You hit yourself on the forehead.

Was a carrot cake enough to make you dumb? Have you not gone through hell? Before you could dwell on it for too long, he was back.

"Okay, I managed to get you not one, but two pieces! It's a special cake for little bunnies like you! My Hwa loves making treats for hybrids. Come on, dig in!"

He left the pink plate with the cakes and a spoon on the bench, sitting down in front of you. Wooyoung didn't want you to feel scared, so he thought it was best to be eye level. It bothered you to see him cross legged on the cold concrete, the rain wetting his pants.

"Don't... Don't cats hate water?"

His eyes went wide hearing your soft voice. He started nodding frantically.

"Yeah, we do. But you can't be the only one getting wet. What's a little water, am I right?"

You glanced at the plate again, too afraid to reach for it. Wooyoung noticed, and he picked up the spoon, extending it over to you.

"Come on. You must be hungry. I don't like carrot cake, you can have it all to yourself."

Your eyes stayed fixated on his hand holding the tiny spoon. Should you go for it? You were hungry, tired, and frankly if he wanted to do something bad, he had many chances.

Slowly, your hand reached out, and Wooyoung smiled. He clapped when you finally took the spoon in your small hand.

"That's it! Good job bunny. Now, dig in!"

Oh well, here goes nothing. Just as you put the utensil in the soft, creamy cake, the door to the shop opened again.

"Wooyoung! Where the hell did you run off to with my plate! You don't even like..."

You stood up quickly, dropping the spoon from your hands and backed up a few steps.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I won't eat, here!" Your voice trembled with fear, hands held up in the air so that he could see you weren't taking anything.

"Oh damn it Hwa! She was about to take a bite!"

Wooyoung stood up as well, going over to this Hwa person. He was a young man, with long blonde hair tied in a small ponytail. He was frozen in place until Wooyoung hit him on the shoulder. If you ever did that, you'd be beaten until you couldn't stand, but the man didn't even blink.

"So... I assume the cake is for her?"

"Yes! I was about to make a new friend, and look, now you scared her!"

The boys glanced at you, shivering, hands still in the air. The blonde man cleared his throat.

"I apologize for that. I'm Seonghwa, and this is my naughty, obnoxious, loud..." - "We get it!"

Seoghwa covered Wooyoung's mouth with his hand.

"- hybrid Wooyoung. What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"Hey how come you've told him your name right away but you didn't wanna tell me?"

You had no answer to Wooyoung's question. Honestly, you were too afraid not to answer, because two against one was a losing battle.

"Calm down Woo, look at her. The poor thing is terrified. Hey, Y/N, please, help yourself with the cake. It's all yours."

Not a chance. The whole ruckus had to stop, or you would faint from fear.

"I don't want it. I'm sorry, can I please go now? I won't come back, I promise. Please, just... Let me go."

Both men looked at you with a sorrowful expression, and Seonghwa quickly realised what they were dealing with. If your freaked out stance wasn't a giveaway, it was the lack of suitable clothes for this weather, and your dirty bunny ears. Wooyoung was a bit oblivious sometimes, so he probably didn't figure it out. you were definitely a stray, and by the looks of it, you were having a tough time.

Seonghwa pushed Wooyung behind him, fixing him with a stare before the cat opened his mouth to complain. They had to do this carefully.

"Say Y/N... Do you live around here? Does your owner know you are away from home?"

They're not going to send you back to him, right? They wouldn't do that? I mean, you could explain it, but would he believe you? What if you just say you were out on a stroll? Maybe they will let you leave peacefully?

"I-I... M-My home..."

It took one pleading look from Wooyung to make you break down.

"Please don't send me back! I swear I will never come close to your shop, just please don't make me go back!"

Tears were starting to slide down your cheeks, and the men felt crushed. There you were, an incredibly cute bunny hybrid, all alone in the cold. You were so afraid of going back home you were shaking. Wooyoung felt miserable looking at you. He had his Seonghwa, a bed, food, shelter from the storm...

He didn't know what to say. For the first time in forever, he was speechless.

His brain, however, worked overtime. It clicked.

"We can take you with us! Right Hwa? She can come with us?"

You froze, tears still falling down, and looked wide eyed at Wooyoung. Seonghwa's mouth dropped open, and he turned towards his hybrid.

"Wooyoung! You can't just say that." The cat grabbed onto his shoulders.

"Please Hwa! Look at her! We can't leave her like this." He pushed him away and rushed towards you. His arms went around you, and you tried breaking free, but he was much stronger than you.

"Wooyoung, let the poor thing go! You're scaring her!"

Seonghwa tried prying his hands off you, but to no avail. He wasn't letting go, and your tears weren't letting up.

"I'm so tired... Please, just let me go..."

You stopped shaking after feeling his warmth, and you honestly haven't felt it in so long you almost forgot how it was.

The men noticed you were calming down slowly, and Seonghwa was at a crossroad.

"Please Hwa, look at the poor thing."

Seonghwa sighed. He hated when Wooyoung was right, but he had to agree with him. They couldn't let her stay outside in this condition. She was clearly frightened, cold, and who knows what she's been through.

"Y/N... Do you want to come with us? We can give you some real food, and a warm bed. Wooyoung won't mind sleeping on the couch tonight, is that right?"

Wooyoung loved his bed, and he hated sharing it, but he didn't even think twice before answering.

"Yes! You can have my bed, and my fuzzy socks. I will even give you my favourite blanket. It has kitties all over it."

Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh. His hybrid was one of a kind, and he loved him for it. They watched the poor bunny as she slowly looked up from Wooyoung's chest.

"C-Can I? I-I promise I'll be gone tomorrow."

"What? No! You're not going anywhere!" She looked up at the cat, and he was almost offended by her statement.

"Come on now, we'll talk about it tomorrow when you're rested. Woo, let the poor girl go now, you'll suffocate her." He tried prying his hands off the bunny, but to no avail.

"She doesn't mind, right? Stop trying to separate us!"

"A-Actually, you're kind of making it hard to breathe."

Seonghwa gave Wooyoung a hard look, and he reluctantly let go.

"Fine, but I'm hugging you again later. You're really soft."

You swayed on your feet a bit as his arms let go. It was obvious you were tired, so Seonghwa rushed inside to pick up his things and lock up. Meanwhile, Wooyoung took the plate and spoon in his hands. He smiled at you, offering it again.

"It would be a shame to let it go to waste, we'll take it home with us."

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. The thought of cake made you a bit sick at the moment.

Before Wooyoung could start blabbing again, Seonghwa came out with his bag and locked the door behind him.

"Okay, we're all set. Our apartment is just around the corner, are you okay to walk? We have an umbrella, you and Wooyoung can share it."

He handed over the large yellow umbrella, but Wooyoung quickly shook his head.

"I don't need it, give it to her." His owner's eyes almost bulged out of his head. The cat hated getting wet. He must really like you if he was willing to get drenched for you. Seonghwa watched as his hybrid wrapped his red sweater around your shoulders, careful not to scare you again. He then opened the umbrella and made sure you had a good grip on it before turning to Seonghwa and gesturing that they should go.

They made their way down the street, not exactly rushing because they knew you probably couldn't go very fast. Seonghwa was a bit lost in thought.

Wooyoung has been in his life for almost three years now. They were both young when Seonghwa adopted him from a shelter. He didn't like how people treated hybrids, because at the end of the day, they were still part human. He decided he would find himself a companion, someone to share meals with, talk, and have fun. He was a nurturing person, so the prospect of taking care of someone came naturally for him. Wooyoung was a firecracker from the start. He didn't hide his rambunctious personality, and he always kept Seonghwa on his toes. They had a strong bond, and everybody in Seonghwa's life adored the lovely black cat. When he opened up the bakery two years ago, Woo insisted on being the first customer. With the money he saved up doing online photography commission, he bought almost every dessert in the display. He even left a hefty tip. The joy on his face made Seonghwa melt, and he adored how happy he was.

They talked about making their family of two bigger by adopting another hybrid, but soon decided it was best they stay as they are until Seonghwa found someone he wanted to settle down with. Wooyoung wasn't jealous, but he loved his space and he didn't like sharing it. It was obvious why Seonghwa was taken aback by his wish to take the little bunny home with them.

He turned around and glanced at them, hearing Wooyoung talk about how nice his bed was, how his Hwa makes the best pancakes in the morning, and how they were going to make her a bubble bath once they got to the apartment. The bunny looked at her feet, struggling to hold onto the umbrella. She only nodded along to the other hybrid's words, but no sound came from her.

She must have had it rough out in the streets. Who knows what she's been through. One look at her could tell it wasn't a nice experience. He could only hope she would eventually trust them enough to tell her story.

After a quick walk, they arrived at their apartment building.

"Look bunny, here we are! Come on, come on, let's hurry inside."

Wooyoung rushed past Seonghwa, handing him the umbrella. He was still clutching the plate with two very wet pieces of carrot cake. His determination was sometimes overshadowed with his carelessness.

"Wooyoung, don't hassle the poor girl. It's okay, you don't have to rush. We live on the fourth floor, are you okay with taking the elevator?"

He looked at the shivering bunny, and she only nodded in response.

With a sigh, they caught up to Wooyoung who was already holding the door to the elevator open.

"Come on slow pokes! Our bunny needs to warm up!"

His owner raised an eyebrow. 'Our bunny'?

He was clearly thinking they were going to keep her. Maybe they could, but they first had to get her settled for the night, then they could talk about it more thoroughly.

The dim light cast a shadow over her, and it was apparent how tired she was. The dark bags under her eyes stood out even more. There was a sharp tug in Seonghwa's chest, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Poor little thing.

Once they made it to their door, his cat practically oozed joy. He put the key in and unlocked it, and Wooyung bolted inside.

"So here we are! Shoes go onto the rack by the door, we don't want Hwa to have a meltdown. Dirty clothes immediately get taken off and thrown into the hamper because the furniture can't be dirty, lastly you..."

Wooyoung stopped talking when he saw her cowering by the entrance. Seonghwa stood next to him, gesturing for the cat to shut up for a second.

"Hey bunny, he didn't mean to startle you. Just take it easy, okay?"

"You want me to take my clothes off?"

He realised what she had in mind, and he flailed his hands around, shaking his head.

"Oh, no. No, no, bunny. He didn't mean it like that! We will give you a fresh set to change into after you take a bath, but you'll do it all by yourself. We won't come near you, I promise. You can even lock the door."

Wooyoung nodded along to Seonghwa's words, realising himself how that might have sounded to her.

She nodded, taking a couple more steps inside. Her senses picked up on the faint vanilla smell, the ticking of the big clock above the TV, and the movement of the small lava lamp on the counter. Their apartment was nice, clean, and homey. She could see yarn balls in every corner of the room, probably Wooyoung's. She could also see a stack of cook books on the coffee table, and she guessed those were Seonghwa's.

"C-Can I go to the bathroom now please? I-I'm kind of cold."

Wooyoung, ever the eager, took her by the hand and walked her down the hallway.

"Of course! You just take your time inside. Here we are." He opened the door and took the liberty of preparing everything she would need.

"There you have all the shower products that you need. You can even use Seonghwa's expensive hair shampoo, he won't mind. He doesn't let me use it because I always empty out his bottle. But you're cute, so he'll let you. Oh! You can even make a bath bomb, look. You have many options in this basket."

He also gave her a stack of towels and told her to use whichever she wanted. By the time the tub was full Seonghwa came inside with an armful of clothes. He put them on the washing machine before turning towards her.

"Here you go. I didn't know what you would like, so you have some sweaters and shirts to choose from. Leave your clothes in the hamper, I'll take care of them later. You can also explore the cabinets above the sink, we have many products. Take as much time as you need, we'll be in the living room. Would you like to eat something?"

She forgot about food for a second. Her stomach rumbled a bit, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Some bread would be nice, please."

The boys looked at each other before turning towards her again. Seonghwa crouched down to look her in the eyes.

"How about some warm soup and a bowl of rice? Does that sound nice, bunny?"

She nodded slowly, almost afraid he would take the offer back if she was too eager.

He only smiled. "That's settled. We'll leave you to it now."

He ushered Wooyoung out before the cat made you more nervous, and they closed the door.

Finally, alone with your thoughts, you sat on the edge of the tub and looked at the tiled walls. Never could you have imagined running into people like them. Human or hybrid, your encounters these past few months have been terrible. You were so used to insults, nasty comments and a shove here and there, that the concept of someone being decent long escaped your head.

The exhaustion took over your body, and the warm water was calling your name. You walked over to the door and turned the lock, checking the handle to be sure you were safe inside. After that, you took your dirty clothes off and pushed them inside the hamper. The second you stepped into the warmth, your body almost started humming. As you settled in further, a smile made its way onto your face.

How you've missed this feeling. You submerged yourself completely, wetting your hair and ears before leaning against the tub. There was a variety of bottles in a small plastic container on the shelf, and you picked a random one to start washing yourself.

If Wooyoung said you had free reign, you might just use it. God knows when you'll be able to again.

.

.

"Please Hwa! She is clearly in need of a home. I don't mind, really. I want her with us!"

"Wooyoung, for the love of God, you've only just met this girl. How can you be so infatuated already?"

The excited hybrid went to the fridge and pulled out various ingredients to make the bunny something to eat. He knew she would mainly go for vegetables, so he made sure he had lots of those. Maybe he could make her a quick salad while heating up the soup?

"Listen, hyung, I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But I'm sure you like her as well, you just won't say it. Look at her! She is so tiny, and soft, and she smells so sweet... She's perfect for us. And I won't be so bored when you're at work."

"You sit at the bakery most of the time."

Wooyoung scoffed.

"Yeah, well, I want to sit at home, but I don't want to be alone!"

Oh. That was new. Seonghwa was kind of stunned for a moment before he really took a good look at the rowdy cat. He looked kind of... Sad.

"Why didn't you tell me that sooner? We agreed a year ago we wouldn't bring more hybrids to the house."

He was now aggressively chopping some lettuce, and Seonghwa was worried he'd chop a finger off.

"I know, I was there. I was the initiator of that conversation. I just... Sometimes I wanna sit here, on my favourite couch, and just do nothing. But I hate being alone. I thought you would be mad at me."

Seonghwa quickly walked over to him. He opened his arms and the cat rushed into a hug.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry I didn't notice it sooner. I'm not mad at you, I'm surprised you've managed to keep it to yourself this long."

They both chucked and enjoyed each other's embrace. Wooyoung was affectionate, his love language being physical touch, so Seonghwa had to cuddle him all the time. It's not like he minded, it gave him a sense of calmness as well. Although most of the time he had to measure his blood pressure to make sure it didn't go over the roof.

"Does that mean we can keep her? She can stay here and be with me? I promise I'll take care of her!"

Seonghwa stayed silent, thinking about how their lives would change if they took her in. She was clearly in need of it, and Wooyoung had a point. It might give him some space to do things on his own, and he liked that.

"Listen, I'm saying we can talk to her about it, and if she says yes..."

Wooyoung squeezed him again, rubbing his cheek all over his shoulders and neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't wait to tell her!"

As if sensing they were talking about you, you slowly emerged from the hallway.

"I-Im done. S-Sorry I took so long, it felt really nice."

If they could have melted on the spot they would've. You were as cute as a button, with your wet hair and ears, swimming in Seonghwa's sweatshirt and Wooyoung's pants. You bare feet tapped on the ground, and you nervously grabbed the hem of the shirt in your small hands.

Wooyoung detached himself from Hwa and made his way over to you.

"Look at you! Oh, let me get my fuzzy socks, I have tons! And I'll get a hairbrush and the dryer. We don't want you catching a cold all wet like this. Come, come, the soup is ready. Hyung, make sure she eats a lot!"

He went around you, sniffing slightly and smiling when he caught a whiff of his scent mixed with yours. He couldn't wait to properly scent you, so that others knew you belonged to him.

"Come, bunny. Take a seat." Seonghwa gestured towards the kitchen island where three chairs sat, and you picked the one closest to you.

"I-I can sit on the floor if you want."

He frowned. "Nonsense. I barely managed to teach Wooyoung to sit at the table during meals, he'll go right back to eating in front of the TV if he sees you."

So, they had freedom to sit where they wanted? That was a new thing for you. You didn't want to question it, so you made yourself comfortable on the chair. Seonghwa placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of you, next to it a bowl filled with fresh salad, and a big glass of water.

"Eat first, then drink the water. Try not to rush, we don't want you to get a stomachache."

"Yes sir." You nodded as politely as you could and slowly picked up the spoon. Seonghwa lightly frowned at your choice of words. Never once had he heard Wooyoung call him that. It was always something endearing, or a simple 'Hwa'. Whoever had you before made sure to discipline you harshly it seemed. He noticed you glancing at him, still holding the spoon but not taking a bite. Maybe you thought he would punish you if you actually ate? That made him turn around and go to the sink to wash the dishes Wooyoung pulled up while cooking. He would give you the privacy you needed to make sure you ate without fear.

He heard you slurping the broth after a few minutes, and soon enough you started chowing down on the salad. He kept himself busy with his back turned, and only when he heard you exhale in satisfaction did he turn.

You sure made a mess on the table, and your cheeks were still full, but you looked absolutely adorable.

"How was it bunny? Is Wooyoung a good cook?"

"Of course I'm good! I'm brilliant! Look, she ate it all! Good job sweetie!"

You froze in place, swallowing the remaining food, and keeping your head down.

"H-He is. Thank you, Wooyoung."

The cat was beaming at your words, and Hwa could practically feel the praise going into his head.

"My pleasure! I'll cook for you every day! Come now, I finally found the pink socks, and I even found a pink hair tie. Hyung loves pink, but he won't admit it out loud."

Seonghwa gasped. "Hey now. Don't go around telling all my secrets."

"Oh please, give me a break. I don't have time to argue with you right now, I have a bunny to groom. Let's go to the couch, we can put on my favourite movie!"

The girl barely managed to get down before she was dragged towards the living room. Things change, but Wooyoung will always stay the same. He understood to some degree that she was delicate, but that perished from his mind as soon as he let himself be, well... Himself.

"Here, you sit down on the pillow, and I'll sit behind you. Hwa, can you get us some snacks? Thanks!"

Yes, he was unapologetically himself.

"Sure thing Woo... Remind me who the owner of this house is again?" The younger boy laughed, the sound startling the poor bunny.

"Silly you, we share it, remember? I'm the perfect housewife, and you bring in the money! We love money Y/N! I'll teach you how to use hyung's special credit card to buy cute clothes."

He positioned himself behind you after making sure you were comfortable on the pillow. You hugged your knees to your chest, and glanced around seeing his legs beside yours. You were never this close with someone before, but it felt nice with how warm Wooyung was. He slowly started brushing out your tangled hair, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment. Seonghwa came over and you saw him place a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you.

"Help yourself Y/N. There's a variety in there. Wooyoung usually eats all the strawberries, but I'm sure he can share them with you."

"Ha! Of course I can. She can eat them all if she wants." He paused the brushing for a moment.

"Well, maybe leave me one or two, but go ahead!"

You smiled slightly, and Seonghwa's eyes softened. Wooyoung had a way with people, and he could make them comfortable quickly. He was glad his hybrid had an impact on you already.

The moment was soon ruined by a single touch to your ear.

"Hey, let's brush these out as well, you -"

"No!"

You covered your bunny ears with your hands, gathering yourself in a ball.

"Please don't! N-Not my ears. Please!"

Wooyoung could feel you trembling, and he moved his hands in the air.

"Woah, bunny, sorry. I won't touch them if you don't want to."

Seonghwa kneeled in front of you, lowering his head to catch your eyes.

"Hey sweetie, he won't touch them. He didn't mean to scare you. Do you want him to stop brushing your hair now?"

You nodded and Wooyoung's happy face soon turned sad. Maybe he should have asked before touching, but he didn't think it would be a problem. He loved it when people scratched behind his ears.

"Do you want to feel my ears? I sometimes make Hwa pet me for hours!"

You uncovered yourself slowly, turning your head to glance at him.

"Y-You like that? D-Doesn't it feel bad?"

"No! Not at all! Come on, I'll show you how to do it."

He gently grabbed your hand and placed it behind one of his black ears, moving it around to guide you. He let go, and you continued petting him. The purrs he let rumble from his chest made you confused? Jisung only grabbed you by the ears to teach you a lesson. Sometimes he even pulled you around the house. Wooyoung's eyes closed, and he leaned into your touch.

"See bunny? Now that he showed you, he's gonna make you do it all the time." Seonghwa reached over and scratched the cat's other ear, and he looked like he went to heaven.

"I-I see... B-But can you not do it to me, please? Not y-yet..."

You put your hand down, and Seonghwa moved his away. Wooyoung opened his eyes and smiled.

"No problem. But just so you know, I expect scratches from you too now. Your hands are really gentle."

You glanced at him again, seeing the satisfaction on his face. Maybe it didn't have to be so bad after all? You were still queasy about the thought of someone touching your sensitive ears, but it could be an option in the back of your mind.

The evening went on without a hitch after that. Seonghwa helped you put on the fuzzy pink socks, bickering with Wooyoung who was brushing your hair for an hour straight. If somebody had told you this is how hybrids talked to their owners, you wouldn't believe them. You would likely get smacked if you even thought about raising your voice, but Seonghwa only sighed at Wooyoung's screams. Your ears kind of hurt, but it was amusing, so you stayed quiet. They showed you how to turn the TV on, where the pantry filled with treats was, and how to adjust the heater in Wooyoung's room. He didn't want to change the sheets because he claimed it would only comfort you if you smelled his scent. You kind of had to agree with that.

Soon enough, you were tucked under a soft blanket with the two men standing above you.

"Night night bunny! Wake me up when you get out of bed, I usually sleep until noon, but I don't want to miss out on our time together!" The cat waved and hopped out of the room, leaving you with his owner.

"We can talk about everything tomorrow once you've rested. You had a long day." He lightly patted you on the head, avoiding your ears, and soon you were left alone.

Even though the room was unfamiliar, you kind of liked how it made you feel. The walls were filled with polaroids, you could see a camera on the desk, and there were fairly lights on the ceiling.

Your eyes slowly closed, and you fell in a dreamless sleep for the first time in God knows how long. You were finally safe, and you couldn't get enough of the feeling.

.

.

[neonovember]

So I currently have food poisoning and I can’t help but it think how mad Carmy would be if a restaurant gave his gf/wife food poisoning

Also Carmy come take care of me and make me soup plz 🙇‍♀️😫

Plus he would give the best snuggles 😭

firstly, sending lots of love and recovery, i've never actually had fp lmao so a lot of time on webmd will be spent. get ur fluids in! secondly, carmen might have to go underground for setting the restaurant on fire. we love him for it

summary: You were hungry and had just finished work and you didn't think about inspecting the goddamn Michelin star restaurant, maybe you should have.

warnings; cursing, food poisoning, richie (he's a warning), hipsters, talks of future arsony, possessive carmen, cracked fic ngl,

divider by @firefly-graphics

i'm slipping back into the unsafe territory of wanting fictional characters. (and i don't care)

You could roll your eyes in annoyance if you weren't hunched over the ceramic bowl of the toilet heaving out the contents of your stomach while Carmen held you hair back.

The one time, the one goddamn time you decide to try a new place without Carmen's input, without his meticulous standards and in depth research behind every night out.

It wasn't like you hadn't tried to vet the new braised beef spot that opened up on west Avenue. In fact, you had heard all but stellar reviews from friends and family, meeting you with suprise hearing that Carmen hadn't taken you. You decided to bring home a small plate, their signature braised meat with plums, red onions and atrichocke hearts.

You had meant to share it with Carmen, and you were going to, but a botched catering order had him staying back another hour than what had been planned. And well..you say you tried to save some for Carmen, but despite its bacteria laced beef and vomit inducing sides it was pretty fuckin' good.

Was this God's wrath coming down upon you? Punishing you for your gluttony? Food poisoning did feel awfully close to perpetual hellfire.

The TV was blaring some indescriptive show, the kind with dramatic introductions and soap opera worthy screams. It helped fill the space of absence when Carmen worked long nights, and you felt quite comfortable wrapped up in a blanket with a full stomach and a warm sofa.

Your phone had pinged with the sound of Carmen's text, letting you know he was on the way when it started. At first you had written it off as mere indigestion, probably from shoveling the cursed meal into your mouth too quickly.

Then, around the time the show's main character had found out her boyfriend got her mother pregnant, the nausea set in. Swirling aches that felt like a whirlpool in your stomach had taken over, sloshing and swirling and never leaving. You couldn't mistake it, as you tried to swallow past a dry throat and the creeping sweats of a headache inducing fever began to ravage your body.

You hated sitting in discomfort, it wasn't as though you were afraid of vomiting no, you just could not bare to feel the way your stomach skipped and jumped with every wave of nausea that took over.

You thought of making yourself sick, but shook your head when the alarming disapproval of Carmen's voice loomed over.

"It's just gonna make it worse, you gotta sit with it till it passes"

Fuck him and his medical knowledge. What did he know?

You had ripped off the blanket that had once felt comforting, peeling of layers of clothing that stuck to your body like a second skin. You just felt hot, so hot, is anyone else feeling this heat? You try to move from the couch to reach your phone, but the sudden movement has nausea bubbling up your throat.

You fall to the ground in a heap, hand clasped around your mouth to stop the possibility of projectile vomiting on the rug you had just bought and shoot your hand up to reach for your phone.

You press Carmen's number, begging him to answer you in genuine crisis rather than when you were drunk with friends and missed him. You feel the urge to heave and crawl quickly to the bathroom, phone clasped in hand and suddenly desperately needed his medical knowledge.

Carmen phone rings from the behind the stack of documents in the office, and he hastily wipes his hands across his apron before trying to reach it before it rings out.

Guilt fills his stomach at the thought of you, he was meant to be home hours ago. The catering order needed a few extra hands to help, and once Carmen began he got lost in it, and now you had spent nearly the entire night alone.

"Fuck- Hey baby, I know I said I was comin' but I had to finish a couple things-" Carmen quickly responds as he swipes the call button.

The groan of pain that responds has Carmen freezing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Baby? What-, are you okay?" Carmen replies quickly, his voice going short as his mind turns every possible scenario that had you whining in pain over the receiver.

"Please come quickly, Carmen I think I might-" You gulp and make a retching sound "I think I got sick from that place I was telling you about" You plead out, breathing heavily into the speaker.

The guilt that had filled Carmen seems to morph into an anger that rushes up his chest as he shakes his head.

"The new place? The one with the fuckin' smoke meat? They did this?"

"Mhm" You mumble "I should've just listened to you" You groan out in sadness.

"Fucking idiots. How the fuck did they even? Okay, okay honey just gimme a second yeah?"

How did he let this happen? Carmen has half the mind to stop at the restaurant that more of a Instagram attraction that a respected place of business. You were so eager and excited t try it, Carmen had his own thoughts but would glue his mouth shut if it meant making you happy.

He'll make sure they get shut down, or at least black listed from Chicago as long as he's concerned. His hands shake with the eager want for the fight, to smash someones jaw for resorting you to a heap of tears and sick. He would, he knows he will, but at this moment he needed to take care of your first.

He mumbles out a rushed reply, phone between his shoulder and ear as he slips out of his work shoes and into his sneakers. He thinks for a moment to grab his things but immediately shut that thought out when he hears you groaning into the phone.

"Just stay on the phone okay? I'm coming now, I need to get you some things alright?"

You let out what you hope is a reply, hunched over the toilet.

Carmen rushes to the store fridge, grabbing containers of soup Tina had prepared for family as the Chicago winter was getting close.

"You alright kid?" Richie mumbles, walking into the kitchen entry way, scratching his stomach as he watched Carmen's erratic movements around the store.

"Fuckin-, she's sick. And I'm here chopping up tomatoes for fucking Guy while she was in pain for god knows how long-"

"Woah, Bugs sick? We talking COVID or.."

"I'm such a fucking idiot. No it's not COVID Rich, Jesus Christ. Some rookie new spot trying something outside of their abilities gave her food poisoning. Fuckin' hipsters"

"Oh that's bad. You know when I got food poisoning the one time I took Tiff to this romantic getaway. Had me projectile vomiting in the AirBnb bathroom. Couldn't even get a deposit back, had to pay some dumb ass cleaning fee-"

Carmen wipes a hand across his face shaking his head. He was already pent up, he might throw a pan at Richie if he doesn't stop talking.

"Richie, I don't have time for this, I need to get her some Sprite or"

Richie shuffles across to the cupboard near the back of the house, grabbing bottles of Gatorade and a pack of saltine crackers.

"How do you even have this stuff lying around"

"You're the one with the inhuman alcohol tolerance Carmy, someone of us actually have hangovers you freak" Richie retorts

"Yeah yeah, thanks. Fuck- I gotta" Carmen replies, to which Richie nods.

"Go. I'll wrap up anything here" Richie replies, understanding in his voice. You took precedence over pretty much everything in Carmen's life.

"And Carm?"

"Yeah?" Carmen calls out, slipping on his jacket as he turns to Richie

"Tell me when we're going to sort out those bearded wearing flannel ass wipes"

Carmen shakes his head with a smile, before nodding and pushing past the kitchen doors. The traffic lights better be green green fuckin' green tonight.

You were stripped to a singlet and sleeping shorts as you knelt over the toilet, blinking back exhausted tears at the state of you.

You suppose you have no one else to blame but yourself, but the indignation righteousness burns almost as bright as the acid reflux crawling up your throat.

You hear the faint opening and loud clang of the apartment door opening and closing and you sigh in relief as you hear the familiar footfalls of Carmen down the hall.

It had felt damn near torturous suffering without him, and as he calls out to you following the trail of loose clothing he spots your figure in the bathroom sprawled.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry" Carmen says

And it was as if your body needed to finally feel safe in Carmen's presence before you felt the nausea spill out of you and splash offensively into the toilet.

You feel Carmen crouch above you, dragging your hair that had gone loose from it's wrapped up do away from your face. Gently rubbing your back, his large hands softly dipping up and down your spine.

"That's it, 'atta girl. Let it all out" Carmen coo's softly

You purged the insides of your stomach into the toilet bowl, retching loudly with every heave as Carmen comforted you. After what seemed like hours, and the nausea had subsided Carmen carefully wrapped his arms up under your armpits picking you up of the floor.

"Slowly, yeah? You damn near emptied out you're entire water content" Carmen murmurs, flushing the toilet and helping you walk to the basin and wash out the taste of bile from your mouth.

"I probably look insane" You cry out, blinking back exhaustion from your eyes as Carmen shakes his head furiously.

"Never, my pretty girl. Need you to go easy okay? Gonna take you to bed and let you sleep through it. Can't have you collapsing on me" Carmen murmurs, wiping at the edge of your mouth, patting the sweat that stuck to your forehead.

You let Carmen carefully maneuver your body, one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back walking to the bedroom. Your wring dry and can barely keep your eyes open as Carmen placed you on the cool sheets you immediately moan at.

You hear the faint rustle of movement as Carmen brings in a paper bag. The clunk of bottles placed on the bedside table as you sing praise for the very short bit of relief you have before the next bout of nausea rolls in.

Carmen pads to the adjacent bathroom, the door opened so you can see the stream of light that illuminates him. Hes running a cloth under water, squeezing the excess and looking up to check on you every so often.

He looked so...domestic, like he hadn't come back from working at one of the most decorated restaurants in Chicago. Stripped of his shirt so he stood bare chested, golden curls pushed behind his ears, sweatpants hung low on his hips and the furrow of his eyebrows in concentration and worry.

Your eyes flutter shut as you thank the midnight sky for bringing him to you, for keeping him for you, this one good thing that was yours.

The skies answer by the sound of his voice listing off all the things you will not be doing in this stage of recovery. Sitting on the edge of the bed as he places the cool rag against your forehead, lips between teeth as he feels your temperature under his skin.

"Just bone broth, Gatorade and bread sticks for you, doll. And no, before you even think it, its not the garlic ones." Carmen tsks.

You were thinking it. He knew you too well, but when he kisses your eyelids and measures out careful tips of the Gatorade bottle, you don't mind it.

[bunny-1111]

I love love love your writing! I was just re-reading “Theodore Nott who…” and possibly wondered if you could expand on how he reminds reader that he will propose when they are finished school. Kicking my legs giggling thinking about that 😂

Aww, thank you. Of course, I can. Let me know if you have any other requests!! PS I wrote a whole thing, ready to push post now. It was perfect, but something happened, and it didn't save, so I had to rewrite it the best I could, I hope you enjoy this anyway AH I'M SO MAD 🥲,

...

Theodore, at age 11, thought you were the prettiest girl in school

Theodore, at age 13, began to navigate his not-so-small crush on you

Theodore, at age 16, felt his heart in his stomach as he swallowed his pride and finally asked you out

That is where our story starts.

By 17, you got comfortable enough and started spending the night in each other's dorms; one random Tuesday morning, Theo woke up earlier than usual, you were still fast asleep. Theodore was a very productive person. If he woke up early, he would get up, make a coffee, go for a run around the grounds, come back, and shower, all before most had even opened their eyes. As he reached for the corner of his side of the blanket and moved to start his day, you felt him, causing you to stir, your brows quickly scrunching, your body automatically moving towards him; you reached for him even in sleep. Something in his mind slowed, something in his heart raced, something in his soul shook. Dropping the blanket in his hand, he surrendered to you, laying so close, gently caressing your face, feeling peace in your dream state. Then it dawned on him, if I married her, this would be the last face I would see before I slept and the first I would see when I woke up.

That's when it began.

His constant reminders of marriage.

That very morning.

When your eyes fluttered open, Theos wide eyes already met yours, it would've scared you in his eyes weren't so dreamy.

"Good morn-" you start

"Marry me" he interrupted

"What?!" you laughed out. It was too early for this

"Marry me?" he smiled

"shut up" you laughed, reaching your hand under your pillow, softly throwing it at him

"Come on, why not?" he pleaded

"Theodore, we're still in high school, that's why", you smile

"Fine, you fucking time waster, but after we get out of here, I'm gonna marry you", he insisted

You thought it was a passing thought.

Something he wouldn't bring up again.

Boy, were you wrong, he proved that time and time again over the next two years.

Sitting in class, he would peck a kiss on your cheek from behind you. "Kisses for the Mrs" he would whisper with a smile before returning to his own seat

In the great hall, he slapped Matteo's hand away as you and he both reached for the same dish. "Can't you see my fiance wants that slice?" he grits, serving you before Matteo puts it on his own plate. "You aren't fucking engaged?" A defeated Matteo retorts, arms out in confusion. "Don't start", you apologise on behalf of you and your pretend husband

In Hogsmeade, you and Pansy tried on dresses. Theodore was walking past when he saw you in the mirror. Letting himself in, he slithered behind you, his reflection joining yours in the mirror, slipping a hand down your waist. "You know, if you look this good in this dress, I can only imagine how good you'd look in white," he'd smirk, "you know when we get married," he muttered on his way to the register, leaving money, giving the workers strict instructions to charge him for any dress you bought, for them to keep the change too.

When Theodore had early morning Quittich practice, he would leave a steaming cup of coffee or tea on your bedside, accompanied by a note: " To keep you warm while I'm gone, good morning, my better half, Mrs Nott."

When you studied in the libary, you had a very distinct look of focus. He would lay a bored hand on his face, "Come on, let's go for a smoke", he whined, "No, Theodore, We have final exams soon. You should be studying. Go without me if you want" you explain, fingers pointing at text on his book, "not going without you" he said frustrated under his breath. Theodore kept testing, blabbing nonsense, attempting to distract you, staring at you instead of the open books. "Why are we wasting time? You could be pregnant by now," he said, his free hand twirling your hair. This caused you to slam your book closed, looking up at him, your eyes widening. "What!?" he laughed. "If I had it my way, we would've tied the knot last year, and we would have a kid on the way", he continued; you did nothing but shake your head and fight your growing smile.

Walking through the gardens, you pointed at some hydrangeas. "My favourite flowers" you smiled. "I know" he smiled "I'd walk down the aisle with hydrangeas in my hand," you say softly, leaning in to smell the flowers, "When we get married, I will" you say picking some to take with you. Theodore could've fainted on the spot. 'When we get married,' your voice repeated in his mind, pulling you up into a deep kiss

When you finally graduated, Theodore pulled your father aside. If there was something Teddy valued, it was tradition; he was officially asking for your hand.

Returning to you, smiling ear to ear, he suggests you join him on a walk. Reaching the tree near the Black Lake, he kissed your forehead, one hand intertwined with yours, the other hand in his pocket, fidgeting with a small box.

A box containing a ring.

That he had bought on the year prior, now all that was left to do was kneel.

unedited today, sorry for any incorrection I'm too tired to reread or edit rn LOL

in my mind me and teddy r married

him in a suit KILL ME NOW one chance PLS

[ronearoundblindly]

Forgot to add In our modern days please

So we've got: ☑️ relaxing ☑️ domestic ☑️ established relationship ☑️ with Steve

Since it's *me,* there's some deep feels in there... plus hearty laughs.

No warnings. It's just headcanon-style fluff!

He likes the warmth of the clothes right out of the dryer, so Steve always thunders over to the laundry room the instant the machine stops. There could be a no-holds-barred action sequence blaring from the TV. There could be real gunshots outside. Doesn't matter. He heard it. As long as you're not in immediate danger, he's going to run and plunge himself shoulder-deep into toasty fabric.

That wasn't a thing when he was a kid. Now, Steve would rather wear out sheets faster than dry them on low heat. He will pay the money. It's worth it.

For the holidays last year, you bought him a huge, fluffy, heated blanket, and he absolutely uses it--keeps himself tucked in until sweating then kicks it off in frustration--but the laundry addiction never stops.

Every time he showers with you at home, you warm his towel in the dryer for a few minutes.

There is nothing, nothing, quite as cute as Steve Rogers burying his face in a fresh towel and hugging it to leech out each extra degree Fahrenheit...or Celsius. He's not picky.

When it's a load of mixed clothing, he scoops it all up and carries it like a boulder over to the bed, bending at his Disney princess waist to press himself in.

Just a minute. Just give him a few deep breaths and a minute.

He likes to fold sheets with you taking one end and him taking the other, coming together in the middle, because no matter how long you two have been a couple, Steve still gets a thrill at his fingers grazing across yours as he takes a corner, as he hands you another. He's a simple man with simple pleasures.

Now, sweaters are a different story.

Steve will wash and dry those however keeps them softest for longest, even if it means putting them on that rack he constantly stubs his toe on. Worth it. Sure. Can we just always put that stupid thing away quickly? He's going to keel over one night trying to get to the bathroom in the dark. Seriously, it's a hazard!

Steve won't wear shoes in the house, which might seem obvious to a lot of people--he's a pretty clean and considerate man, of course he'd want to not bring crap inside, both physically and mentally--but Steve also likes to be barefoot in his home. He doesn't have slippers, but he insists on the floors being pristine.

He vacuums the rugs and carpet constantly because it feels best on his feet that way. Wiggling his toes is part of a grounding ritual he does once home.

Sometimes it's as simple as holding you for a while, savoring a long hug, methodically rubbing your back, and letting you lightly scratch at his.

He prays, in his own way, at that time. What he's grateful for. What he's hopeful for. Thanking whoever or whatever is out there for you.

He's a research fiend. As good as he is about keeping the floors clean, Steve will litter every other surface with books, newspapers, files, magazines, printed articles, and anything else necessary to get the answers he's looking for. He does not like to just search online. He's the weirdo who makes note of the citation online and finds that source at the library.

At some point, you have to put a moratorium on bringing books home when he's deep in that research phase. He's a fast reader; he can scan some there. Steve may be able to check out unlimited volumes, but your home has a finite volume.

You're not discouraging learning, though, just trying to keep it reasonable. No need for him to be possessed by the Ghost of Knowledge Past...

You can tell he's good and properly lost in an art project when supplies are everywhere. Unless it's going to stain/damage something, Steve does not clean-as-he-draws. The colors are out and they are accessible.

You love this; he's happy like this. You let him do it.

Steve gets really, really picky about what art hangs where in your home. He's knows you like his art, but it's nothing compared to the printed and canvased work of the masters. He pitches a fit if you try to display his as predominantly, but you refuse to stick them on the fridge like he's a child.

It's his hobby, he loves it, and he improves in different ways every time he picks up a pencil (or pen). He often has the most casual and fun conversations when he's splitting his brainpower. Steve doesn't particularly know he's doing it (how could he? he'd stop and overthink it if he did), but you can see the stress-thickened aura on him melt away if he's distracted for long enough.

Focusing on cooking with you has the same effect. These activities have become therapy for him--and you--and act as multitasking which is wonderful in the sometimes limited spans he gets to stay at home.

Once almost everything inside your home is setup nicely--there's always room for improvement or redecorating 🤗--Steve makes you two a nook outside to stargaze. He loves to stare and let his mind wander, but he especially loves to have you there in his arms. It's not limited to nighttime either. He's equally thrilled with watching clouds or, if you're under cover, watching storms roll in.

He likes to have you sit between his legs and lean against him. The pressure on his chest is soothing, but he can rest his cheek to yours. Steve gets to use a soft voice then, not his usual, commanding one. With you so close, he can whisper. It's just you two in the whole wide world.

Steve may not be much of a singer, but he uses that same, sweet whisper to share lullabies from his Ma as you fall asleep at night. Not every night, but still. It's magical.

He insists on trying something new every single time he goes to the grocery store. Doesn't matter if it's a condiment or a side dish or a little treat, a new cut of meat or fancy nut milk, Steve has to explore (safely).

He is, of course, still appalled at the price tags, but he also can't judge when something is too expensive since it all is to him. This is how he ended up with a single, $12 dipped pretzel, and you nearly fainted.

It was quite delicious, but never again!

There's a code, a safeword of sorts, for really bad days. Doesn't matter the reason, could be as simple as your brain just can't brain, but it means the user (you or Steve) get to call the shots. You might want to be alone, you might want him to hold you until the sun rises, you might want to watch the cringiest romcoms or ugly cry reading your 'stories.' No questions.

Shawarma.

It came from an early moment once Steve was out of the ice. The whole battle was a disaster from start to finish. He was so overwhelmed, but so was the makeshift team. They all sat in silence. Ate. Didn't eat. Fell asleep sitting up. Fell asleep in their food. No one cared. That's the idea. He needs that sometimes, as he figures everyone does.

Whatever the other wants.

Unsurprisingly, this often winds up mutually beneficial. Sometimes being quiet for the other's sake lets both just breathe. He looks at you and can see your pain, your strain, your fatigue. Steve always ends up smiling, though, because he loves you. There's a type of beauty in your sadness--this gravitational pull to bring him closer, to let him in, to let him lift you back up--that makes him feel needed. This home is where he shields you from the world. On his worst days, he still gets to protect you, to do good, and to make you happy. That is all he's ever wanted in his whole life

Also sometimes shawarma sounds good for dinner, but if that's the case, it's specified. No one is surprised when the whole night is spent just caring for each other. The 'code' means you're starting at an ultra-low place that day or night, but with understanding and respect, you always balance back out.

And finally, a freebie for shiggles: Steve finds flatulence hysterical. Not all potty humor, not jokes in bad taste, but he just cannot keep it together if he or someone else farts. I'm sorry, he can't. It's too funny. The noises???? He's dying laughing.

The team at some point figures this out, and at a dinner at your home--a perfectly reputable affair with proper china and all--the group proceeded to fake (or not fake) fart noises. Steve almost peed himself. Tears of joy were streaming down his face. It was adorable.

See, he doesn't care that it happens; the human body is the human body is the human body. Obviously, he can be concerned if there's like a medical issue, and he's allowed to poke a little fun if your toots (or his) smell, but mostly...he just finds them hilarious.

That is the most childish thing about Steve Rogers, a holdover from a bygone era, and that's kinda the best part. After all he's been through, Steve has an inner child. He just needs to let it rip! 🤭😂

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[munsonhoneybaby]

Sweet Leaf | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Finally starting to spend time with Eddie outside of your bedroom, everybody seems to know about the two of you but Dustin. 

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, eddie’s never-ending pet names, frequent drug use (marijuana), smut, lots of high sex in the whole series idk what to tell you lol, tiny bit of dry humping, eddie’s fishnet fetish?, skinny dipping, fingering, p in v (unprotected but he pulls out), sex in an empty parking lot, squirting, pretty heavy subspace, not angst but crying after sex, eddie’s a little fucknasty sometimes but he worships his lady, cheesy ahh ending

A/N: just two emotionally damaged stoners trying to figure out how to love each other, what more can i say? the length of this one just kept getting away from me lol i’ve loved writing this series and even though the main storyline is over i’d love to keep writing about these two if anybody sends in blurb/headcanon requests or anything like that !! i had plenty of little ideas i had to leave out !!

part one | part two | tmic masterlist

Eddie paused in the mirror, fixing the hair laying on his forehead. He fidgeted with his shirt, trying to get it to sit right on his shoulders– it was an old Kill ‘Em All t-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of ages ago. He huffed and did one more frantic scan of his bedroom, hands fluttering uselessly at his sides as he was sure there had to be something he’d missed. Bed made, laundry done, and messes cleared away, his room looked cleaner than he’d seen it in probably two years. Deciding it wasn’t gonna get any cleaner in the next fifteen minutes, he dashed down the short hallway to double-check that the living room was spotless.

He’d draped the nicest blanket they had over the back of the couch and even specifically bought a few candles to light around the room just for the occasion. A few pre-rolled joints sat out on the coffee table alongside the selection of horror movies that Steve definitely didn’t let him sneak out of Family Video for free; he wanted to give you options, so he settled on The Thing, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining, and The Evil Dead. He would have happily taken you to see a movie, maybe even a drive-in, but you’d said you’d rather it be just the two of you.

Three knocks sounded at the door, making him jump. You were four minutes earlier than he expected. Stepping to the door, he glanced around the room again and blew out a heavy breath before he opened it.

And there you were. Black shorts peeking out under your baggy Dio tee and a bag of snacks in hand from the gas station a couple miles off, you smiled at him. “Hi.”

Eddie couldn’t help his cheesy grin as he replied, “Hey.” Something about you was so enrapturing to him. He could have just stared at you, standing in the afternoon sunlight shining on his doorstep, forever.

“You gonna let me in?”

“Oh! Uh– right.” He moved aside, opening the door wider. “It’s not exactly the Ritz, but uh–”

“Oh, knock it off. I don’t care about that shit.” You looked around, taking in the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls. The warm light outside made the closed mismatched curtains glow. “I think it’s perfect.”

He cleared his throat to overcome the warmth in his chest before he spoke. “I got a few different movies if you wanna pick.”

“Ooh, can we watch The Shining? It’s been a little while since I’ve seen it, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Sure thing,” He nodded. As he turned on the TV and put the tape in the VHS player, you found a seat on the couch and grabbed a joint off the table to light up. While you seemed totally at ease in his trailer, he was as nervous as the first time he met you. First date jitters, he supposed. You looked so comfortable curled up and smoking in the corner of his couch that, as he settled at the opposite end, he couldn’t help but feel like you belonged there.

Your legs stretched into his lap as you scooted down a bit to pass him the joint. He rubbed his free hand back and forth along your calf absentmindedly. “I don’t know how long you were planning on staying– if you wanna stick around after this movie, I could make a frozen pizza and we could watch another or something.”

“Sounds good to me,” You hummed in return.

Forty-five minutes into the movie, the first joint was gone and Eddie was focused intently on the television screen. You started to get fidgety though, foot nudging against his thigh. “What’d you sit so far away for?”

“I dunno, just thought I’d give you your space I guess? I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“C’mere.” Pinching at his shirt, you tugged until he scooted himself to you. Your legs lay completely over his lap as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I don’t need space, I came here to be with you. It’s cute you’re taking this whole ‘first date’ thing so seriously, though.”

His cheeks flushed a little pink and he fiddled with his rings over your lap. “Sorry, I just– I want this to go well.” He laughed nervously as he continued, “I want to keep seeing you outside your bedroom, y’know? I want you to come to my shows, and I wanna take you to the diner, and I wanna kiss you goodbye after Hellfire sessions.”

You gave him a little smile, turning his face toward you to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I wanna do that stuff too, Eds. You know that you mean something to me, right? I just wanna go slow in the Dustin department. He has to be okay with this.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded instantly, “However you wanna go about it. I swear, I’ll even ask the little loudmouth for his blessing when you want me to. I mean, I love that kid too.”

For a split second you just took in his features, and those big, earnest eyes were impossible not to believe. The material of his shirt scrunched between your fingers as you drew his lips to yours again. “Thank you for being there for him. And for me. You don’t know how much it means.”

He brushed a strand of hair back from your face with a little smile. “I think I do, sweetheart.”

“Hey, so where’s your sister?” Mike asked, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “She’s like…always home.”

“I don’t know,” Dustin frowned, “I guess she just told Mom she was going out. Maybe I should call Robin and ask if she’s with her.”

“Dude, she’s an adult,” Lucas shook his head slightly. “She probably doesn’t need you to check in on her, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“But what if she isn’t?” As he continued, he paced the length of the basement, hands gesturing wildly with his words. “And what is she doing? ‘Going out’? What does that mean? Why is she trying to hide where she’s going? What if it’s somewhere sketchy?”

“You need to calm down,” Mike insisted. “It really isn’t that serious, she’s probably with Robin and Steve or something.”

“Right, so I should just call Robin and make sure!”

Lucas still rolled his eyes, but Dustin was already dashing up the stairs to the phone. “Great, now he’s gonna lose it if she’s not with Robin.”

“Where else would she be?”

“Literally anywhere, man. She could be at the record store, or with Nancy, or maybe with...”

“You don’t think she could be with Eddie–” But Mike was cut off by footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“She’s not with Robin, Steve, or Nancy which means I’m out of people to call which means I’m officially concerned. Do you think we should go out and start checking places? I mean, what if she smoked like– like– bad weed or something? I don’t know how that stuff works! Why wouldn’t she tell me where she’s going? She should know I’m worried sick!”

“Oh my god, would you relax? Did you talk to your mom?”

“Well, of course she thinks everything’s fine! She trusts us both implicitly when she obviously shouldn’t!”

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a breath before he looked at him. “I seriously think you’re overreacting. Like Lucas said, she’s an adult; she doesn’t have to tell you everything. She’s allowed to have a life.”

Having returned to his pacing, Dustin halted and looked at him with an offended expression. “Are you trying to say I’m clingy? I’m not clingy!”

“I’m not saying you’re clingy! I’m just saying that you do your own shit, she probably does her own shit too. Maybe she’s taking time to herself or maybe she’s out with a guy or something.”

“There’s no way she’s out with a guy. She would tell me if there was a guy! And where would she even meet a guy? Work? She barely talks to anyone, you guys know that!” Mike and Lucas shared a glance before looking in different directions.

“Look, if she’s not home in an hour we’ll go check a couple places, alright?” Lucas finally sighed.

“An hour? It’s already a quarter after nine!” Then they heard the front door close and Dustin was racing back up the stairs. There you stood, kicking off your shoes beside everyone else’s, a smile on your face that you were trying to bite back. Until your brother and his friends burst out of the basement. “And where on Earth have you been?”

You looked at him questioningly. “Enjoying my day off?”

“By yourself? Until nine-thirty at night?” He placed his hands on his hips, scanning you with a scrutinizing gaze. “What were you doing?”

“What’s with the third degree? I stopped at the bookstore, then I went out in the woods and read for a while. Is that okay, Mom?”

“Don’t condescend to me, you had me worried half to death!”

As you replied, you ruffled his hair. “Aw, well that’s very sweet, Dusty. I’m fine though, you don’t need to wait up for me.”

“See? We told you there was nothing to worry about,” Mike chimed. When he and Lucas gave each other another pointed look, however, he knew they’d both seen the faint hickey peeking out from your shirt collar that Dustin had apparently missed.

“Goodnight, boys. I’ll make you guys some breakfast in the morning, alright?” They all called back their own goodnights as you headed down the hallway to your bedroom and they made their way back into the basement.

Later that night you were dozing off, still dressed and on top of the blankets, when you jolted back to full consciousness at the sound of the phone ringing in the living room. Grumbling a little under your breath, you rubbed your eyes.

You were halfway down the hall when you heard the basement door creak open, and suddenly you were wide awake. At half past midnight, there was no way anyone other than Eddie was calling and there was definitely no way Dustin could answer that call. Increasing your pace to a slightly-panicked speedwalk until you were in the room with him, you just barely made it to the phone before him. You pressed the receiver into your chest to muffle your voice as you practically whispered, “Don’t worry about it, Dusty, it’s for me.”

“Who is it?”

“Nancy, she wanted to talk about what I got from the bookstore but she was busy with Robin and Steve,” You answered easily. He nodded and yawned out another goodnight before booking it back downstairs. Letting out a relieved exhale, you finally raised the phone to your ear. “Sorry, Dustin almost picked up. Everything okay?”

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby. Everything’s fine. I tried not to call, I swear I did, but–” He laughed a little embarrassedly, “Fuck, when can I see you again?”

“Eddie,” You whispered through a little giggle. “You had to call about that now?”

“I mean, I could always come over so we could talk about it in person instead,” He teased.

“I just left your place three hours ago.”

“Should’a just stayed the night, babe,” He sighed regretfully.

Clutching at non-existent pearls, you replied, “Stay the night? On the first date? Eddie Munson, what kind of girl do you take me for?”

“Of course, sweet thing, you’re right. You could never do anything so scandalous as sharing a bed with me before we’re really goin’ steady.” You could picture that smirk on his face as he spoke. “Guess that means we’ve gotta plan a second date, huh?”

“Guess so,” You hummed. “Have anything in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking,” He began slowly. “Maybe you could come to one of our shows? I know that’s not a super great date idea since I’m gonna be on stage pretty much the whole time and everything, but–”

“No, that sounds great,” You interrupted. “When’re you guys playing next?”

“Friday night at eight.”

“Alright, I’ll see you at The Hideout on Friday then.”

“Alright,” He cooed back playfully. “G’night, baby.”

Standing in front of your open closet, you rustled through all your clothes in indecision. “I don’t know what I should wear.” Nancy, Robin, and Steve sat side by side by side on the edge of your bed, peering into the closet from behind you. The latter opened his mouth to share an opinion but held his tongue as your younger brother leaned in your door.

“What’re you doing?”

“Uh– just trying to find something to wear, I’m going out later.” You shrugged off his question and continued shuffling through your hanging shirts.

“Again with this ‘going out’ stuff! With who?”

“Us,” Nancy interjected casually.

“Thought we’d go check out Eddie’s show at The Hideout tonight,” Steve added. “Show him some support since it’s usually just the drunks there.”

Dustin eyed you for a split second but seemed to move on from whatever suspicion he had toward you quickly. “Cool, I’ll let Mike and Lucas know. We were gonna hang at Mike’s, but we can all go to the show together instead.”

“You can’t come, Dusty. That’s not a kid-friendly environment,” You told him apologetically.

“What? Come on! We’re not kids, we’re in high school! We wanna see Eddie perform too, he’s our friend!”

“Oh, so now he’s just your guys’ friend,” Steve chimed. “Before, you were practically begging us to get along.” He stood and crossed the room to ruffle Dustin’s curls. “Seriously, dude, your sister’s right. This place is nothing but adults drinking, I doubt they’d even let you stay if you came in with us.”

“See? Your mother says no,” You confirm. “Sorry, Dustin, really. Maybe we could all do something together as a big group though soon, yeah? All of us and the Hellfire club. We could sit in on a session or take you all to the movies or something, okay?”

He paused, fidgeting with one of the buttons on his undone, patterned overshirt. “That’d actually be pretty cool. You’d do that?”

“Yeah, kid, it’s no problem.” You walked over to give him a side hug before nudging him out the door. “Now beat it, I’ve gotta get ready.” It took another minute or two of brainstorming before you decided to snag Dustin’s Hellfire t-shirt from his laundry basket– thank God you had just done his laundry for him. You thought it’d be the best fan attire since Corroded Coffin wasn’t exactly selling merchandise.

Once you were ready to go, Robin called shotgun as the four of you piled into Steve’s car. “Sorry that you guys have to tag along now, but you know how Dustin gets.”

Glancing at you briefly in the rearview mirror, Steve replied, “It’s no big deal. Sorry I told him you were going to see Eddie.”

“It’s fine,” You shook your head. “I wanna lie to him as little as possible anyway, I just haven’t figured out how to bring it up yet.”

“I know he wants you to, but you don’t always have to tell him everything right away,” Robin reminded you. “I mean, what were you gonna tell him– that you were fucking one of his best friends? He doesn’t need to know that. It’s not like you guys are actually together yet–” She was interrupted by a punch in the shoulder from Steve.

He gave her an incredulous look before Nancy took over, reaching over and squeezing your hand. “What she means is, you guys should take your relationship at your own pace and tell Dustin when you think the time is right.”

“Right, that’s exactly what I was gonna say,” Steve added.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Harrington.”

“What? I was!”

When you were finally standing in the parking lot of The Hideout, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Robin hooked an arm around your shoulders and started for the door. “Come on,” She drawled. “Let’s catch ‘em before the show starts, you’ll be okay.”

They weren’t hard to find, setting up on stage front and center. You could see Eddie kneeling down to plug in the amp until Gareth lightly hit his arm and pointed in your direction. A grin stretched across his face as his stare dragged over your frame, taking in your fishnets, short skirt, and Hellfire tee. He excused himself to the rest of the guys before jogging over to you. “Hey, I didn’t realize you guys were coming along.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. Dustin found out where I was going and I didn’t want him to get nosy–”

“Are you kidding? This is the most sober people we’ve ever had in an audience, don’t sweat it.” He briefly squeezed your waist then let his hand settle on your back, fingers drumming impatiently. You looked at him questioningly, but he didn’t meet your eyes just yet. “I appreciate you guys coming, I know it’s not really your kinda music.”

Steve waved him off. “Nah, man, I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Harrington.” His arm moved from your waist to your shoulders, “I’m gonna steal her from you guys for a couple minutes if you don’t mind. I wanted to show her some of the equipment.” Robin opened her mouth to make a smart remark but was stopped by another punch from Steve.

He guided you to a nook behind one of the walls in the far corner of the bar. Humming lowly, he cupped your face so you’d look at him. “You really dressed for the occasion, pretty girl. You look fucking incredible.”

“Well, I haven’t gotten my exclusive Corroded Coffin t-shirt yet, so I figured this was the next best thing.”

“My apologies, babe, I’ll get right on that.” He dipped his head to press a long, slow kiss to your lips.

“Somebody smoked a joint without me,” You teased.

With a good-natured smile, he rolled his eyes in false exasperation. “Sorry, should’a gotten here earlier. We can smoke all you want after, alright? Pothead.”

“What’s that thing people say?” You asked sarcastically. “I think it was something about a pot, maybe a kettle?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He laughed. A whistle from Gareth called his attention to the stage and he exhaled heavily. “Okay, that’s my cue. Wish me luck?”

“Like you need it,” You pecked his lips. “I’m really excited to hear you play. You guys are gonna do great.” Eddie smiled and stole one last quick kiss before darting back to the stage, leaving you to make your way back to the others.

“We may have taken the liberty of getting you a drink,” Steve said as Robin pushed a glass across the table toward you.

“I would be offended if you hadn’t.” Taking a few swigs, you looked over to where Eddie was finally settling the mic into its stand, his guitar hanging from his shoulder. They didn’t bother with grand introductions given the small crowds that gathered weren’t exactly there to see Corroded Coffin; they simply started into their set.

The boys mostly stuck to covers of semi-popular songs– sticking to their roots with Metallica and Black Sabbath, but appeasing the bar patrons with some Led Zepplin and a grudging Bon Jovi song. A few pieces they’d weaved in were their own and you could tell, but they certainly weren’t out of place. You could see where their inspiration came from.

You caught up with Nancy, Robin, and Steve between songs, but they mostly carried the conversation as you watched Eddie. Anyone really paying attention would be able to see that he was in his element. Sweat matted his bangs to his forehead, fingers moving masterfully over the strings as he powered through Trapped Under Ice with incredible accuracy. While you had heard the dramatic voices he put on during Hellfire, you hadn’t known that he could also mimic James Hetfield and Ozzy very impressively. He wasn’t perfect, but what little he lacked in refinement and precision, he more than made up for with passion. 

The middle-aged drunks occasionally gave some muted applause for the songs they recognized, but otherwise ignored the free entertainment. He really was underappreciated here. In front of a real audience, you couldn’t imagine the kind of stage presence he’d have.

Over the next two hours, you worked your way through a couple drinks. You hoped the frequent crossing of your legs could be attributed to the short skirt you were wearing rather than your dwindling patience and self-control as you waited for Eddie to finish his set. When they finally wrapped up their last song, you made your way up to the stage. He was lowering the mic stand when you got to him, holding his gaze as you dropped a twenty in the guitar case in front of him. There were only a few other bills and some loose change inside.

“God, please don’t. Seriously, that’s insulting.”

“Are you kidding? That’s an investment. I expect it back with interest when you guys make it big.” He held a hand out to you as you joined him on the stage. “Really, I thought you were amazing. You’ll see when you get outta this place.”

He just gave you a small smile and brushed his thumb over your cheek, eyes sweeping over your face briefly before he took both your hands. “So I really do wanna hang with you, babe, but I absolutely have to move all our gear first. Is there any way I can convince you to stick around?” His lips dragged over your knuckles, leaving a few kisses as he spoke. “Have a li’l smoke sesh in the back of the van once it’s empty. Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Your chest warmed at the attention he was lavishing you with in front of all of his friends– Dustin’s friends– and you tucked your chin a little bashfully. “That’s fine, Eds.”

“Awesome. We’re gonna finish loading the van, then you can ride with me to Gare’s to unload everything there, then I’m all yours. Cool?”

“Sounds good to me, rockstar.”

Holding your face in one hand, he squished your cheeks and shook your head back and forth lightly. “Always makin’ fun ‘a me, aren’t you?” He landed a kiss on your puckered lips and subtly patted your butt. “Go sit with your friends and I’ll let you know when I’m finished, okay? So glad I had my best girl cheerin’ me on tonight.”

As he went back to helping the guys pack up, you went back to Robin, Nancy, and Steve who paused their conversation when you sat down.

“Swooning already?”

“Somebody’s definitely looking a little starstruck,” Robin added. “Ready to ask him to sign your boobs?”

“The way it’s sounding, he might later,” You replied before taking a sip of your drink.

“I’m proud of you,” She nodded and took your hands dramatically over the table. “At least one of us is leading a successful love life. We will live vicariously through you.”

“Well then, let me know when we figure out how to tell our little brother that we’re dating his male mentor.”

“Wait, did Dustin say Eddie was his male mentor?” Steve interjected. “That’s so not true–”

Robin shook her head. “Steve, shut up.” She smacked your hand and nodded behind you just before you felt hands settle on your chair.

“Hey, you guys enjoy the show?” Eddie’s rings clinked against the metal of the chair, his voice not far from your ear making your heart rate pick up.

“Yeah, you guys were great. We’ll have to come again sometime,” Steve replied.

Nancy politely asked, “How long have you been playing, Eddie? Some of those songs seemed pretty complex.”

“I started playing with the guys when I was in eighth grade, but I started teaching myself around sixth. So, I guess about…nine or ten years?” He shrugged, thumbs drumming against the chair.

“You’re really talented,” She commended.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” His hand shifted to your shoulder before he continued on playfully, “Your guys’ friend here gets a backstage pass though, which means she gets to come watch us unload equipment at Gareth’s mom’s house and smoke my weed.” He took your hand as you stepped down from your high-top chair, pushing it in for you and grabbing your purse as you said goodbye. “Thank you guys again for coming. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?”

Steve gave him a one-armed hug as he nodded, “Definitely, man.”

The two of you walked back to the van, hand in hand, your steps echoing in the mostly-empty parking lot. The others were already waiting in Gareth’s garage passing around a joint when you pulled into the driveway. You followed Eddie around to the back of the van as he opened one of the back doors. Gareth got up to open the other one, handing you the joint as he passed you. 

“Alright, boys, think we can manage our fastest unload yet?” Eddie asked, cracking his knuckles.

“Yeah. As long as you don’t tweak your fuckin’ back again, old ass,” Jeff scoffed in return.

“Seriously, dude. Lift with your legs,” Gareth chimed.

Eddie made a talking motion with his hand and mumbled mockingly back before grabbing one of Gareth’s drums. “Start moving your shit or I’ll stop discounting your weed.”

“Oh, yes! Forgive me, master!” Gareth snarked, voice quavering with feigned fear.

They all got to work on moving the drum kit out first before moving on to the other equipment. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you took a hit and sat on the edge of one of the chairs they had out. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I mean, there’s a fridge in the corner, you wanna grab a few beers?” Jeff asked, getting a grasp on one side of an amp.

Gripping the other side of the amp, Eddie gave him an unimpressed look. “Dude, did you seriously just send her on a beer run?”

“It’s literally the other side of the garage. Shut the fuck up and bend your knees.”

You grabbed a beer for everyone– except Eddie, who was stuck with cherry Coke until he was done driving– and passed them out when they were done moving the amps. Then, to kill some of the time, you sat in the van and packed a bowl to smoke with Eddie later. When the equipment left in the back started to dwindle, you, Jeff, and Barry made conversation while Eddie unloaded some of the lighter equipment with Gareth. Keeping his voice low, the drummer suddenly spoke. “You know you have to like– marry her, right?”

“What’re you talking about?” Eddie chuckled, though his face and neck warmed at the mental image.

Gareth jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in your direction. “Dude, she’s over there talking to your nerdy loser bandmates about Judas Priest’s influences on Iron Maiden’s first album. And she’s actually invested. You’re not gonna find another girl like that in Hawkins. Not to mention how you talk about her–”

“Alright, shut it,” He huffed. “Just help me get this shit out, it’s getting late.”

When the last of it was finally tucked away in Gareth’s garage, Eddie checked his watch and sighed. Eleven-thirty. “Damn.” Your conversation with the boys had drifted to your opinions on heavy metal power ballads when his hands settled on your waist. “Sorry that took so long, you ready to get going?”

“Don’t worry about it, Eds. I’ll see you guys later though, alright? We should really head out.” The three of them thanked you for coming and said their goodbyes before settling back into their fold-out chairs, presumably to keep getting fried.

You and Eddie climbed into the van and he started it up before looking over at you. “It’s not the first date anymore. Any chance I can convince you to stay the night?”

“No convincing needed. I didn’t know how late I’d be home so I already asked Nancy to cover for me if Dustin calls.”

“Wait, you really want to?”

“Of course I do. Will Wayne mind me staying there?”

“Oh, he wouldn’t care. He works the night shift and sometimes he works overtime, so he usually isn’t back until six or eight in the morning. And occasionally he’ll even stop for a drink with a couple guys from work and that could take ‘til ten,” He explained with a little crooked smile. “He’d love you, though.”

You noticed him freeze up a little as he registered his own words, so you took one of his hands and laced your fingers through his in your lap. “I’m sure I’d love him, too. He must be a great man if he raised you.”

He squeezed your hand lightly as he relaxed. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.” There was a moment of quiet, just the low hum of the radio and the roar of the van until Eddie spoke again. “You wouldn’t wanna go to Lover’s Lake, would you?”

“Sure.” His hand settled on your thigh and your lips curled down as you repressed a little smirk. “I didn’t take you for the type.”

“Hey, I can be romantic,” He defended lightheartedly. “I just prefer places like these when they’re less populated.”

“Why? So you can smoke and have sex in them?” You asked with a joking scoff.

“No, I just like my privacy. It’s more intimate without a bunch of obnoxious people around.” He paused, then conceded. “But yes, I like to have a range of recreational activities to choose from. Is that so bad?”

You shifted your leg so his hand drifted further up your thigh. “You wouldn’t happen to be taking me there to do both, would you, Eds?”

“I’m taking you there to do whatever you wanna do, sweet thing.” His tone remained casual, but his hand slowly crept higher and higher. “We could lay down and look at the stars…Maybe go for a swim…” Goosebumps rose on your skin as his short nails dragged across it, fingers catching on the loops of your fishnets. “What d’you think?”

“We didn’t bring swimsuits,” You remind him.

“So?” He asked as he pulled into the small gravel lot hidden by the trees. Looking over at you with a smirk, he continued, “There’s no one else here.” He got out of the van and came around to open your door as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.”

After grabbing a couple of blankets from the back of the van, he took your hand and lead you out away from the trees. You helped him lay out the blankets, crawling onto them and kicking off your shoes. Eddie lay down beside you and you looked over at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been out here at night. It’s really pretty.”

“Can’t believe you think so when you get to look in the mirror every day,” He shot back without effort, giving you that goofy grin of his.

Lightly smacking his arm, you fought back a big smile of your own. “That was terrible, you know that, right? That was actually so bad.” Your combined laughter sounded loud in the near-silent clearing of the lake; your voices were only accompanied by the constant chirping of crickets and the occasional owl’s hoot. 

He rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand as he looked down at you. “You’ve gotta get used to taking my compliments, babe, even the corny ones. ‘Cause soon they’ll be comin’ non-stop.” You simply hummed in response, your hand finding the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. He didn’t hesitate to shift over you, arms on either side of you to support himself as his knee braced between your legs. Lips sticky with your lip gloss, his mouth made a path to your neck. “Y’really do look so pretty tonight, baby. Never seen you in a skirt before, I could barely pay attention to our set.”

“I thought you did amazing.” His hot breath on your neck made you squirm, grasping at his shirt as your hips wound against the firmness of his thigh. “Had me wet the whole time.”

“Fuck, wanted to get my hands on you so bad. Just performing had you all soaked for me, huh?” Your skirt rode up toward your waist until Eddie decided it was unnecessary, leaning back to yank it off. “Jesus H. Christ, fucking look at you.” Lying beneath him, fishnets stretched taut over your spread thighs leading up to your Hellfire tee, you were his fucking dream. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t a religious man but, at that moment, he wished he was because he felt like he needed to thank somebody for your existence. It was like every fantasy he’d ever had simply walked out of his head and into his life. “Seriously, I might need to take a minute.”

“Can you help me out of these while you do?” You ask, curling your legs up to your chest.

He guided one of them up to his shoulder, running his hand down your outstretched leg and eyeing the tights before he looked at you. “Am I in trouble if I say no?”

“If you take them off now without ripping them I’ll wear them for you again sometime,” You bargained teasingly.

“I’ll do it if you let me eat you out through them next time.”

You shoved lightly at his chest with your foot, trying not to laugh. “You’re such a freak.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but you could see he didn’t take the name to heart coming from you as his hips pressed into your ass. “Careful callin’ me names, babe. I’m starting to like it when you’re mean to me.”

“Pervert.”

He hummed, trailing kisses down the inside of your leg and finally hooking his fingers into the waistband of your fishnets. “Only for you, sweetheart.” His short nails scraped gently along your skin again as he carefully drew the tights down your legs. The second they were off, you sat up to pull him into another hungry kiss.

Deepening it, he started to ease you onto your back again but was shocked when you pulled away. With a coy smile, you asked, “How ‘bout that swim?”

Baffled, he was unable to come up with a response before you were standing and whipping your shirt off. His brain kicked back into gear when you dashed away from him toward the lake. Then he was running after you, fumbling to kick off his shoes and strip in the process. He froze as he watched you take off your bra and jump in wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of panties. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding. Finally kicking off his jeans, Eddie dove in after you.

Attempting to wipe the water from your eyes, you looked around for him in the water. Just as he breached the surface behind you, though, he grabbed your waist and shouted. Your squeal broke into a fit of giggles as he squeezed your sides and pulled you into his chest. “You’re such a dick!”

“That’s what you get for bein’ a tease.” Staying close to shore, the water came nearly to his shoulders. He urged you to wrap your legs around his waist, his hands settling under your butt to hold you comfortably.

Arms settling loosely around his neck, you looked away pointedly, that mischievous little expression finding its way to your face again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course, you don’t. ‘Cause the sweet girl I know would never do a thing like that, right?” He asked sarcastically.

You shook your head and answered in a falsely solemn tone. “Never.”

He chuckled softly until you leaned into him, nipples hardened from the chill of the water and pressing into his chest. Faint smiles never left your faces as you shared a few messy kisses. His hand rubbed soothingly up and down your spine while you pushed a strand of wet hair from his face. Swept off his shoulders, his soaked hair allowed you to see his whole face more clearly than ever. He started to feel self-conscious as your eyes drifted slowly over his features, taking him in, your thumb stroking over a spot beneath his ear that gave him chills. “You’re so handsome, Eddie.” He opened his mouth slightly like he was going to respond, but he couldn’t seem to think of anything so you changed the topic for him. “It’s nice here at night, we should come back again sometime when we don’t have any other plans.”

Eyebrows furrowing, he frowned in confusion. “What do you mean ‘other plans’?”

Untangling yourself from him, you faced him and swam backward toward the dock. “Hotboxing the van and having amazing sex, obviously. C’mon.” Climbing out, you held your arm tight over your chest as you snagged your bra off the dock and ran to the blankets still on the ground.

Eddie was close behind, picking up his trail of abandoned clothing. He started to apologize for the lack of towels, but you quickly waved him off and you both dried off as well as you could with one of the blankets. While you wrapped yourself in the dry blanket, he gathered your things with his to carry it all back to the car. “Go ahead and get in the back, I’ll start it up and get the music going.”

Opening one of the back doors, you found that the floor was already covered with other blankets. Climbing inside, you felt the van rumble to life. You could hear Eddie rustling through cassettes in his console as you peeled off your sopping-wet underwear and curled up with the pillows and blankets he’d put back there. The bowl you’d packed in hand, he finally joined you in the back. When he climbed in he paused to fidget with something you couldn’t see and suddenly the back doors were illuminated by little twinkling lights. He swung the door closed and tugged off his boxers before you asked, “When did you have time to do all this?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s all been back here for a little while. I just laid the blankets out in here when I grabbed the other ones to lay down by the lake.” He settled beside you, the top half of his blanket bunched in his lap leaving you free to ogle his tattoos– a favorite pastime of yours. “You want the first hit?”

You shook your head with a small smile, eyes tracing his features like they had in the lake. His hair was still heavy with water, but his forehead was hidden again and his curls were starting to come back. With nothing but moonlight, his eyes had looked black; in the glow of the fairy lights, you could see their warm cocoa-brown color again. His pretty lips formed an O as smoke billowed out of them. Their blushy-pink color nearly matched the flush on his cheeks, which you knew would spread to his neck and chest soon enough. He was beautiful, really.

He offered you the bowl and it stayed quiet, excepting the Master of Reality album playing softly, while you took a few long rips. You passed it back to him and let the silence continue for a moment before you finally said, “I’m gonna tell Dustin.” Unintentionally hitching in a breath, he choked on a throatful of smoke. The resulting coughing fit was so intense it brought tears to his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh as you rubbed his back. “Are you okay?” He nodded, but you still leaned over the console to grab the bottle of water from the cup holder. 

Taking a few swigs, he cleared his throat. “Okay, sorry,” He let out a big breath before he looked at you again. “You’re ready to tell him?”

“Yeah.” Too nervous to hold his gaze, you curled into his side. He welcomed you, of course, tucking his blanket around the both of you and kissing the top of your head. “I just feel like things have gotten…real. You try to take care of me in ways no one else has before and everything feels so easy with you– and honestly, both of those things scare the shit out of me ‘cause that usually means everything is absolutely going to go to shit…But you look out for my brother, and I feel like I can trust you, and everything we do together just feels so intimate…” You huffed embarrassedly and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I think Dustin deserves to know that I care about you so much.”

“That we care about each other,” He corrected you. Hand framing your jaw, Eddie made you meet his eyes. “I’m gonna be there with you when you tell him. I don’t want you to do it alone, we should do it together. I still have to get his blessing, right?” He added jokingly. Before you could say anything, he started to ramble a little nervously. “I feel like this is real. I’ve never felt this way about anybody. I’ve never had the chance to have anything serious before, but you…You’re all I think about now. That first day I met you, it was like I had this ‘Where have you been all my life?’ moment and you’re all I’ve wanted since, and I know that sounds really cheesy and dramatic but–”

Your mouth on his cut him off, which seemed to be a habit you were forming. He didn’t mind though, he’d been told to shut up in much less pleasant ways. When you pulled away, it was only enough to murmur, “I know the feeling.” Your nose nudging his was enough for him to keep it going, hand hooking under your knee and drawing you to straddle his lap.

The blanket slumped to your waist leaving your torso bare for his eyes and hands to wander. “You’re just so fuckin’ beautiful. My pretty girl, right, baby?”

Toying with one of his damp curls, you held his gaze as you agreed, “No one else’s.” At your answer, he pulled you in for a much more desperate kiss. His fingers pressed into your back while the others slipped beneath you to find you soaked, your chest flush with his as his tongue passed your lips. 

He pressed two fingers into you easily, slowly massaging your g-spot until you were whining into his mouth. “Feels like you might not even need me to stretch you out, sweetheart.” Hips canting forward involuntarily, your clit ground into the thick base of his cock. Finally letting you catch your breath, he withdrew his hand from between you and looked down to watch how your slick spread on his skin as he rutted against you. “Mmm, gonna let me show you how bad I need you?”

You brushed his hair back from his shoulders as you breathily replied, “Condom?”

“Wallet,” He answered. Leaning over his shoulder to grab it off the console put you in the perfect position for Eddie to mouth at your tits, lips wrapping around one nipple while the roughened pads of his fingers found the other. You moaned quietly and tugged at his hair, but grabbed the wallet and rifled through it. 

“Eds, there isn’t one in here.”

“Fuck. Glovebox, maybe,” He suggested.

Huffing impatiently, you began to wind your hips against his again. “D’you promise to pull out if I let you fuck me raw?”

He looked up at you with wide eyes. “Really– I mean, are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“Need to feel you now, Eddie,” You insisted.

“Alright, sweetheart, I promise.” He lovingly pecked your lips before grasping your waist, helping keep you steady as you slowly sank down on him. Fully seated in his lap, a gasp rose in your throat. “There you go,” He murmured comfortingly. “I know, baby, but you’re so good. Can finally feel how wet you really are. Takin’ me so deep.”

Your voice was nothing but a high-pitched, airy sigh. “Feel you everywhere.”

“S’Cause I’m made for you.” Your forehead rested against his as he continued. “I was made to fill you up, pretty girl.” His words provoked a pathetic moan from you, spurring you to lift your hips fractionally just to ease back down again. Supporting yourself with your hands on his shoulders, you tried to start up a steady pace, but your thighs trembled with every motion. The moans and whimpers you let out started to sound quiet and watery and it worried him, but the determined rocking of your hips never ceased. “You doing okay, baby?”

Not lifting your head, you sniffed frustratedly. “Need help, Eddie.”

“Oh, baby, why didn’t you say so?” He cooed sympathetically. “S’okay to need my help, c’mere.”

Arms around your waist, he guided you up and down on his cock at a careful speed until you were grinding down on him again. “Eds please, I need more,” You whimpered. Rolling his hips to meet yours, he didn’t hesitate to tighten his arms around you and quicken his pace. The way he was hitting every possible spot inside you had your eyes squeezing shut to keep them from crossing. Thighs trembling, you shivered as he rubbed and squeezed at them.

Eddie’s shoulders rolled back as he leaned against the console, hands running slowly over your hips and across your stomach to palm at your tits. “Look so pretty on top’a me, sweet girl. Might have to make you ride me more often.” His thrusts into you sped up, the console against his back giving him more leverage. One of your hands rested lightly on his lower abdomen to steady yourself but once his thumb found your clit, you were practically writhing in his lap. He rubbed it in firm, precise circles and felt you squeeze around his cock uncontrollably. “That’s it, baby, come for me. Can’t wait to feel you soak me for the first time.”

Something felt different than usual as that coil wound tighter in your stomach. It was hotter, like flames were crawling across your skin. It felt like your bones shook and your eyes swam with stars as you cried out his name. Your nails dragged down his stomach, those of the other hand doing the same to his thigh, trying to anchor yourself with your head in the clouds.

It wasn’t until the ringing in your ears cleared that you heard Eddie’s feral groans, making you look down. Everything was drenched; your thighs, his cock, his stomach, and his chest glistened wet in the warm lights. The sight made you register the sloshing sounds of your dripping wet pussy as he started to slow his thrusts enough to pull out. Arms enclosing around your waist again, he all but pinned you to his chest as he rutted between your stomachs. Lips molding to yours, he kissed you sloppily before his gaze wandered your body in awe. “Can’t believe you fuckin’ squirted f’me. Fuck–” Cut off by his own moan, his forehead fell to your shoulder as his eyes squeezed shut, his hot spend painting both your skin and his. 

After he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, he eased you onto your back, watching the filthy mixture of your come drip down your used cunt. “Eds, what’re you doin’?” You asked timidly as he lowered himself between your thighs, voice coming out in a barely-there squeak.

“Wishin’ I could take a fucking picture, sweetheart. I was gonna clean you up. Want me to use the blanket instead? S’okay if you’re too sensitive, especially after all that.” You nodded and he kissed the side of your knee with a smile as he grabbed the soiled blanket and quickly wiped himself off. Your legs flinched as he patted you dry and his eyes filled with concern as he murmured your name. “Did I hurt you? Did I do too much?”

“No,” You struggled to raise your voice above a mumble. “I’m okay, Eds, I’m jus’ all sensitive.”

“Promise me that’s it?” He asked, running his hands comfortingly over your legs. Pointedly avoiding his gaze, you huffed through your nose and your eyes brimmed with tears. “Baby, c’mon, what is it? What’s the matter?”

You answered him in a whimper, sniffing back tears every few words. “I jus’ made a mess ‘n I’ve never done that before ‘n now everything’s all yucky–”

“Aw, baby,” He chuckled through a sympathetic pout. Lying down and drawing you to his chest, he wiped your tears and kissed your forehead. The two of you curled up under one of the clean blankets. “Nothing’s yucky, sweet girl. Just gotta wash the blankie, no big deal.”

“But ‘m still all sticky,” You pout up at him. “C’n we take a bath when we get home?”

“Home?”

“Your trailer, Eddie,” You whine. “Wanna take a bath.” Lids heavy with exhaustion, your eyes slowly fluttered closed repeatedly before they’d snap open again.

“You’re so sleepy, sweet girl.” He brushed your hair back from your face. “Think you can take a little nap back here while I drive us home?” You nodded dreamily but still clutched at him whenever he tried to get up. “I know, baby, just twenty minutes and we can take a bath. Okay?” When you finally conceded, he tugged on his jeans and made the short drive home. 

Once you were bathed and dressed in nothing but a borrowed Metallica t-shirt, he tucked you into his bed before crawling in beside you. You dozed off easily with your head on his chest, but he stayed up just a little while longer. Palm rubbing circles on your back, his lips ghosted over your forehead. “I love you, baby,” He whispered almost silently. Closing his eyes, he focused on the feeling of your heart beating against his side, counting them like a child would sheep until he fell asleep.

The next morning, you woke up first, Eddie’s arms around you and his chest molded to your back. You scoffed and rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help your tiny smirk as you registered the feeling of him squeezing at your tit, his even, heavy breaths against your shoulder telling you he was fast asleep. Slowly rocking your hips back, you bit back a laugh when it made his grasp tighten while he nuzzled into your neck. He rutted against you, half-hearted and arrhythmic in his unconscious state. It wasn’t until you reached back to hold his hip and grind directly against his cock, separated only by his boxers, that he finally grunted himself awake. “Mmm, g’morning t’you too, gorgeous.”

“You’re a perv even in your sleep, you know that, Munson?”

He mouthed at your neck with a sleepy grin, “I could’a told you that. How’d you know I was dreamin’ about you?”

“Well, your right hand was my first clue.” You pointedly ground your hips into his again and looked back over your shoulder at him, “Wanna guess my second?”

“Can’t help but get ideas, babe. You’re sleepin’ in my bed, in my shirt, no panties…” His fingers walked a path down your stomach, stopping just after your belly button. “Promise I kept my hands to myself, though– while I was awake, anyway.”

His hand drifted leisurely between your legs but you groaned. “Eds, what time is it?”

“I don’t know, almost nine? Why?” His lips never left your skin, still working over your neck and shoulder without leaving obvious marks.

“We can’t, we have to go. Dustin’s at Mike’s and I wanna make sure we get back before him. I’ve still gotta make myself decent and figure out what I’m gonna say to him.”

“What we’re gonna say to him,” He corrected. “And can’t you stay indecent a little longer?”

“Wayne’ll be home anytime,” You remind him, “If he’s not already.”

He pouted, “But how often do we get to have great morning sex after a night together like this, baby?”

“Any morning now that I’ll be staying over whenever you want,” You point out.

“Hmm, I s’pose that’s true,” He agreed contently. Stretching out beside you with a loud groan, he pecked your cheek before he got out of bed. Yawning, “I’ll be right back,” he headed for the bathroom. 

Rolling over, you buried your face in his pillow and breathed in. Old spice shampoo, weed, and Marlboros filled your nose and it made every muscle in your body relax. Him. You wanted to bottle the scent, soak every pillow and blanket and sweatshirt you owned with it. You’d never have another restless night again. Lifting your head slightly, you left your nose against the fabric but allowed your eyes to flicker around his room. 

A bottle of lotion sat on his nightstand, he didn’t seem to bother with tissues though. You weren’t surprised. Handcuffs hung on the wall, also not surprising, but they still made your thighs twitch. There were more band posters than in your room, including a hand-spray-painted one for Corroded Coffin. He had three guitars, his prized possession– his other sweetheart, as well as another black and white electric, and an acoustic painted to say ‘this machine slays dragons’. An amp sat across from the bed and his dressers were strewn with clothes and beer cans. It was easy to imagine him existing in here. Playing guitar in bed in his boxers or planning the party’s next campaign at his desk.

Your eyes snapped to the door when it finally opened again. “Still in bed, huh?” Nodding with a small smile, you watched him rummage through his dresser for today’s band tee. His hand settled on Slayer before he thought of running into your mom, and opted for the much tamer Deep Purple one beneath it. “Well, you should probably put somethin’ else on before I take you home. What you’ve got on might get a little breezy.”

“Bite me,” You yawned, flipping him off as you got up.

“I didn’t think we had time for that,” He replied snarkily. He finished getting dressed as you slipped on your skirt and balled up your fishnets to put in your purse.

When you were both ready– or as ready as you could get for now– you headed for the van. “I’ll make coffee when we get to mine,” You offer. “My mom should be at work, so I’ll make breakfast. Food might help soften the blow.”

“God, you’re acting like we killed his cat or something,” He laughed. “We’re not breaking bad news, babe.”

“It’s still a shock, alright? And Dustin has big feelings, you know that. I just don’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable or lied to. Me and him don’t usually keep secrets, so this is a big deal.”

“I can be tactful, alright? But I’ll let you do most of the talking if that makes you feel better, I know you’re worried about him.” His fingers laced through yours and brought the back of your hand to his lips. “It’s gonna be okay though, sweet girl.”

Pulling into your driveway, you let out a heavy breath before you got out and lead him inside. As you got dressed, you tried to practice what you’d say, rambling your thoughts aloud. He left you to your process, only stepping in for you to bounce thoughts off of or to keep you from getting lost in your concerns. You only paused once you made your way into the kitchen. Putting a pot of coffee on, you asked, “Chocolate chip pancakes okay for breakfast? They’re his favorite. I’ll probably make a little of everything else too; eggs, bacon, sausage, there’s fruit in the fridge.”

Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep the words ‘marry me’ from rolling off his lips. “Sounds incredible, baby. Anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’s okay.” Watching you methodically gather everything you needed from the fridge and cabinets, he figured he’d just get in your way if he tried to lend a hand. While you cooked, you mumbled through your prepared speech again, knowing it would never go so smoothly in actual conversation. Thinking about it more, you just hoped Lucas and Mike didn’t come back with him.

By the time he made it home, leaving his bike in the yard, you had made more than enough food and Eddie had already eaten his. Dustin was talking the second the door was open. “What’re you doing here, Eddie? Something going on with Hellfire?”

“Nice to see you too, Henderson.” He retorted, standing and flicking the bill of your brother’s hat into his eyes. “Your sister made you breakfast. I hear chocolate chip pancakes are your favorite.”

He eyed both of you suspiciously as he started toward the kitchen. "Yeah, what's it to you?" Eddie shared a confused look with you, but decided not to say anything. After he’d made his plate and sat down at the table to dig in, Dustin spoke again with a mouthful of food. “So, what’s with the special breakfast? Why’re you guys being weird?”

“We’re not being weird–”

“You’re alone at the house together,” He pointed out, still shoveling food into his face. “That’s weird.”

“It’s not weird– would you just listen? It’s not a big deal, I just wanted to run something by you, alright?” Eddie could tell you were fumbling, forgetting everything you’d planned to say. His hand itched to reach out for yours on the table, but he knew you wanted to get the words out first. “I’ve been–”

“Seeing Eddie?” Dustin interrupted. When the two of you shared a glance and you opened your mouth to question him, he continued. “Mike and Lucas told me last night.”

“How did they–” Eddie began, but Dustin cut him off.

“Apparently, everybody knew but me! All the guys in the band knew! Steve, Nancy, and Robin knew! How could you leave me out of the loop like this? You know I hate not knowing things! I have to know everything!”

“Dusty, calm down,” You said softly. “I wanted to wait until I actually had something to tell you. He’s your friend, I didn’t want to change the way you look at him just to go on a couple dates and decide it wasn’t gonna work.”

Nose wrinkling, he asked, “So, what? You guys are like– boyfriend and girlfriend now or something?”

You snorted and Eddie couldn’t help the small, smug smile creeping across his face. “Yeah, are we boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Back of your hand hitting his stomach, you tried not to laugh as you answered. “Yeah, I guess we are.” Turning back to your brother, you added, “Only if you’re okay with it, though. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel like you can’t trust Eddie anymore.”

“It’s kinda weird, but I guess I don’t care as long as you don’t make out and all that gross shit in front of me. And you’d better treat her right or me, Mike, and Lucas are all leaving Hellfire,” He tagged on pointedly.

“You don’t have to worry about that, you have my word.” He looked like he was about to say more, but opted to stay quiet.

“Okay, well, I think I’ve lost my appetite for now.” Dustin stood from the table, “I’m gonna go back to Mike’s and tell them they were right.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to clean up. “Be safe, I love you.” 

“Love you, too!” He shouted back just before he yanked the door shut.

As you started rinsing dishes in the sink, Eddie’s hands found your waist. “I think that went well.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t stay awkward for long,” You sighed lightly. “I guess Lucas and Mike did the hard part for us.”

“Guess so,” He drawled in agreement. “So, what now?”

“Now? Hmm…” Drying off your hands, you turned to loosely wrap your arms around his neck. “I guess now we do whatever we want, no more sneaking around.”

“I hope that’s not gonna suck the fun out of it for you.”

“‘Cause watching you Tetris yourself through my window is such a turn-on,” You scoffed.

He gave you a look of mock offendedness. “Good thing I won’t have to do it anymore, since you clearly don’t appreciate the athletic prowess it takes to climb through that window without waking your mom up.” 

Halfheartedly rolling your eyes yet again, you let your fingers dip past the neck of his shirt, fingers grazing along the top of his spine. “How about you roll us a joint and then I’ll show you how much I appreciate your ‘athletic prowess’?”

“You drive a hard bargain, babe,” He sighed theatrically. “But you know it’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Obviously,” Lacing your fingers through his, you dragged him toward your room. “That’s why I offered.”

As the three boys gathered at Mike’s house again, he asked, “Wait, we were right?”

Lucas stood, pointing at him. “I TOLD YOU, MAN!” 

Mike tried to argue, “I NEVER SAID–”

“I TOLD YOU!”

“GUYS, SHUT THE HELL UP!” Dustin interjected.

Lucas cleared his throat as the two of them settled back into their seats. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“So, you’re really okay with Eddie dating your sister? I mean, it’s not gonna make Hellfire awkward or anything, is it?” Mike questioned.

“I don’t know, it’s weird. It’ll definitely be nasty seeing them all lovey-dovey or whatever, but they’re still just Eddie and my sister. As long as they don’t act different, I won’t act different.” Turning on the TV, Dustin flopped onto the couch next to Mike. “Besides, I think part of me knew they’d hit it off– I’m like a natural matchmaker. They just have too much in common, ya know?”

part one | part two | tmic masterlist

tags: @adequate-superstar @akiratoro420 @bbciwp @trixyvixx @yujyujj @nope-thanks @broccolisoupy @spookybabey @comboboo @thecraziestcrayon @mommybaby-witch @imvirginia17 @therensistance @peacheskiwi @skyfullofsong123 @hcneyedsstuff @aysheashea @prestinalove @ungracefularchimedes @psychospore @bellaisasleep @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ficsaremylife @ohmeg @twirls827 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @sebastiansstanswhore @444aslut444 @ourautumn86 @dream-a-little-nightmare @extrainsanity @poniesandcupcakes @trln @cantreadbutcute @kennedy-brooke @navs-bhat @sluggzillaa @whatwedontdointheshadows @saayanaaa @depressedacidtest @unholyyylita @m-chmcl-rmnc @pullhisteeth @vivalasv3gan @a3trogirl @thesagewitchh @djoseph-quinn @darlingdixon

<3

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[girl-lostconnection]

Omg, ghost from unsweetened au who refuses to leave your side when you’re together 😞😞

Cooks for you, cleans for you, goes out with you and is always text to you, sigh..

Saw this video on TikTok sometime ago and that’s literally him.

Yes-yes-yes! Especially if we are talking about Ghost from the time skip (aka military-polished Ghost) when he has already settled into the rhythm of having you and he kinda clicked you in his life and himself into yours like puzzle pieces.

Ghost, who hovers nearby when you cook, insists on washing the dishes himself and REFUSES to sleep or even nap without you because “tha’s just better, luv”.

He comes home on leave and doesn’t fucking go out until you do because why would he??? He already was out more than enough while deployed — he slept in some uncomfortable places, most of which didn’t have proper mattress, he’s been wet and cold, he’s been too hot and sweaty as a bloody dog, he’s been uncomfortable.

So when he’s home? Baby, he’s not going ANYWHERE. As a matter of fact, he holes up in your flat/house/whatever with you and relishes in how comfortable everything is.

How soft you are, how good and tasty food is, how warm the blankets are and how fucking decadent a proper mattress on your bed feels (bought specifically with his back aches in mind (this man is big and heavy, I just know his lower back gives him hell sometimes)).

Simon is basically joined to you at the hip and doesn’t see anything wrong with it — always touching you, always trying to press his big fucking head in the crook of your neck, at the back of it, in your stomach and lap.

Simon who loves just listening to you, loves having you close, loves knowing that this space — it’s only for you two. It’s safe, it’s warm, it’s comfortable.

Many things there were made with his height or issues in mind and many things bear the mark of you buying them for yourself and later sharing with him.

I honestly believe that in his case, sharing and having things bought for him specifically is a love language. When you grow up without much, lacking a lot of emotional support and comforts, lacking basic comforts and necessities it can later in life make you a bit extreme (eating too much, hoarding things, being touchy about sharing, being generally territorial).

And for him it means so much that you buy things for him or cook for him — care for him in general. And I feel like after knowing you for so long he’s at his most comfortable with you because he knows you won’t take something away from him, he knows on subconscious level that you are safe.

Also if we are talking about Ghost before the timeskip this lad isn’t going ANYWHERE unless he absolutely has to. Like you are at school? Already waiting for you, already draping his arm over your shoulders and herding you inside like he’s a guard dog.

Library? He’s there, one of your headphones in his ear, his hand draped over the back of your chair, his side pressed into you.

Coffee/book shops? He is just a step behind you, a little awkward and a little out of place with his spiked leather jackets and massive height and very obvious nervousness, but he’s there while you are browsing books. He’d probably get startled by loud noises and the first instinct he has is to cover you (oh, I’m gonna start crying just thinking about it) with his body. It’s something he does without even thinking— protective instinct that was previously only spread to Tommy.

Any afterschool activities? He’s walking you TO and FROM them, huffing out air and rolling his eyes when you tell him that he doesn’t have to do that. Like hell, he’d pass on the opportunity to be near you.

Visiting your home? He’s a big awkward lad and he feels very out of place, at least at first but it gets easier with time and with you. And I feel like he’d be impossibly pleased to see you in something cozy and soft even if that’s just sweatpants and T-shirt. Makes inner mutt inside of him nod in satisfaction that you are warm and comfortable (uses it as a chance to nuzzle into you again).

He’d probably be glued to you no matter what you do around the house, chest pressed to your back if you need to do stuff standing, hand wrapped around yours if you have to move. Physical contact is not really something he’s used to and now that he finally has access to it, it’s like he can’t get enough.

Sleepovers? Again, he’s very satisfied with seeing you warm and happy, all cozy in your home clothing and your blanket is soft and you are soft and honestly, he’d feel like he’s in heaven. I feel like he’d be a big fan of sleeping on your chest or just wrapped around you as a big spoon, face pressed to your neck (his favourite spot).

[starsjulia]

just as you are // leah williamson

leah williamson x neurodivergent!reader

a/n : everyone experiences neurodivergence differently, and this isn’t an accurate representation of all neurodivergent people, this is solely based of my personal experience with autism, though neurodivergence comes in many different forms and not just autism. based of this request!!!

It was late spring, and the air around Dorset had a gentle warmth, fresh with the promise of summer. You and Leah had been seeing each other for a few weeks now, with dates that felt both tender and easy—small glimpses of how good things could be when you didn’t have to hide yourself so much. Even if you hadn’t told Leah everything about you, each date seemed to draw you closer, as if she could sense the parts of you you weren’t quite ready to show.

Today, Leah had planned a surprise. She hadn’t given away much, only mentioning that she’d packed a picnic and that she hoped you didn’t mind “a bit of a trek.” You’d met her just outside her little holiday home that afternoon, where she greeted you with her usual warmth, her eyes lighting up when she saw you.

“Hi sweet, you ready for a little adventure?” she asked, her North London accent curling around her words in a way that made you smile.

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling that familiar mix of excitement and nerves. “Where are we headed?”

“It’s a surprise,” Leah said with a playful glint in her eye. “But I promise it’ll be worth it.”

She handed you a small, neatly packed backpack, giving you a wink as she shouldered her own. You took a deep breath, the sensation of the warm afternoon sun grounding you as you followed her down the winding forest path.

The journey was beautiful but long, winding through tall pines and wildflowers in bloom, their colors bright against the emerald green of the forest floor. Leah kept up an easy conversation as you walked, her voice a comforting presence beside you. She asked questions now and then—gentle ones, never prying too deep, like she understood you’d answer in your own time.

“How come you like the country side so much? Not like in a ew way, I just think it gets a bit boring”

You thought about it, carefully choosing your words. “I’m not to sure, i’ve always preferred somewhere quieter. Somewhere where I could have my own rhythm, I guess. The city is just… too much sometimes.”

Leah nodded, her face softening in understanding. “I kinda get what you mean. It can be a lot, all that noise and chaos. I bought the house to get away sometimes. I do sometimes like being in a place where you can actually hear yourself think,”

You gave a small smile, the warmth in her words easing some of the tension in your chest. It felt good, hearing her talk about needing her own space. It reminded you that maybe your own needs weren’t so strange.

After nearly an hour, Leah led you through a small clearing and out onto a sunlit hill, overlooking a valley where a river sparkled as it wound its way through the forest. The sight took your breath away; the view was so open, so peaceful. Leah spread out a blanket on the grass, giving you a gentle smile as she motioned for you to sit beside her.

As you settled onto the blanket, you felt a surge of gratitude toward her for bringing you here, to this quiet place. It was beautiful—and quiet. So quiet that you felt your shoulders relax as you took in the scene around you.

“Perfect, isn’t it?” Leah murmured, lying back on the blanket, her hands resting behind her head. “Just us and the whole world spread out like this.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, glancing over at her. “It really is.”

You felt a pull toward her in that moment, a soft, warm connection you hadn’t felt with anyone before. Being with Leah felt like breathing fresh air after being cooped up for too long. And yet, even with her kindness, you still couldn’t shake the lingering worry that had been building over the past few weeks—the part of you that kept wondering what would happen if Leah knew the truth. It was a fear that had become familiar, one you’d felt in other relationships before: the worry that maybe you’d be “too much” once someone really got to know you.

The thought weighed on you as you sat beside her, watching as she unpacked the small picnic she’d prepared. She handed you a sandwich, smiling as she brushed a stray curl from her face.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

You laughed softly, trying to push the worry from your mind. “Yeah, I am… I think. This looks amazing.”

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a while, Leah occasionally making little comments about the clouds or the wildflowers blooming nearby. As you watched her, you felt a warmth spread through you, a feeling of being seen and accepted just as you were. But then, just as you were starting to relax, Leah turned to you with a thoughtful look in her eyes.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you something,” she said softly, her gaze steady on yours. “I… I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these past few weeks. Being with you, it feels… easy, you know? Like I don’t have to pretend to be anything I’m not.”

Her words sent a jolt through you, a strange mix of happiness and anxiety swirling in your chest. This was the moment you’d been hoping for, but the thought of her not knowing everything about you made it feel… fragile. Like you were standing on the edge of something precious and terrifying.

“Leah, I…” You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat. “Before we… before you tell me something more serious, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Leah’s expression softened, her gaze open and patient. “Of course. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding as you tried to find the right words. “I have autism.” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper, but quite blunt. “so sometimes I experience the world differently. Things that seem simple for other people can be… challenging for me. Loud noises, bright lights, weird smells—they can be overwhelming. And i don’t really get social cues properly, and i sometimes says odd things.”

You looked down, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I just… I didn’t want you to be surprised if… if I have days where I struggle. I’d understand if that’s too much for you. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

For a moment, Leah was quiet, and you felt the silence stretch between you, your heart sinking as you braced yourself for her reaction. But then, gently, she reached out, her hand covering yours in a warm, reassuring grip.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice gentle. “Look at me.”

Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet hers, and to your surprise, you saw nothing but warmth in her eyes.

“I kinda thought so?” she said, her tone soft but steady. “I didn’t know for sure, but… well, you’d mentioned needing time alone sometimes, and I noticed how certain things seemed to make you anxious. But you know what?” She paused, her gaze unwavering. “I like you, just as you are. I like all the little things that make you you, whether they’re easy or not.”

You blinked, her words washing over you like a balm. “You… you do?”

“Of course I do,” Leah replied,as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I mean, loving someone isn’t about expecting them to be stereotypically perfect. It’s about seeing who they are—all of them—and still wanting to be there. And I… I want to be here, with you.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “I know there might be things I don’t understand, there’s probably a lot i’ll get wrong, but I’d rather learn than walk away.”

A warmth bloomed in your chest, a feeling of relief and joy so strong that it left you speechless. For so long, you’d been afraid that no one would be willing to understand the parts of you that were different. But here was Leah, offering acceptance without hesitation, as if loving you was the most natural thing in the world.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “No one’s ever… said anything like that nice to me before.”

Leah’s smile softened as she took your hand in hers, her thumb tracing gentle circles over your skin. “Well, then, I’ll just have to keep saying it, because you deserve to be known, gorgeous,” she murmured, her voice carrying a playful warmth. “You’re incredible, just as you are. And I want to be here, even on the hard days.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and Leah reached up to gently brush it away, her touch so soft it made your heart ache. The two of you sat there in silence, the weight of her words settling over you like a comforting blanket. In that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to hide parts of yourself to be loved.

Taking a deep breath, you gave her hand a small squeeze, feeling a surge of gratitude for this beautiful, open-hearted person beside you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “For… for understanding, it’s more than i could ever ask for.”

Leah gave you a warm smile, her eyes shining with a quiet, steady affection. “Always, love.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sun dipping low in the sky as the first stars began to emerge. You leaned your head against her shoulder, feeling her arm come around you in a gentle embrace, and for the first time in a long time, you felt completely at ease—loved and accepted, just as you were.

[witchywithwhiskey]

Lloyd + 61. “did you really think that would work? cute”

cooped up on a nice spring day

pairing: husband!lloyd hansen x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, choking, light bdsm, bratting, begging, teasing, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, referenced oral sex (f receiving), pet names (it's lloyd so there's a bunch), established relationship, fluff

word count: 1,800ish

a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Eva!!! and it's so perfect for Lloyd!! i had a lot of fun writing this one—it has probably the brattiest reader i've written so far, so i hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡

The view outside your husband’s office was beautiful in the spring—in fact, the garden was one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with the house and why Lloyd Hansen had bought it for you. There were so many flowering trees and so much flourishing greenery that you felt like you could stare at it all for hours while Lloyd worked.

And, in fact, that’s exactly what you’d been doing on that particular spring day. Lloyd had even opened the window so you could feel the warm spring breeze against your cheeks and smell the sweet perfume of the lilacs and honeysuckle from the garden. It was a beautiful day and you hoped Lloyd would finish working soon so you could go outside and enjoy the sunshine together.

It had been your intention when you’d strolled into Lloyd’s office in one of your pretty sundresses to entice your husband to go for a walk in the garden with you. You’d had designs about packing a picnic and spreading out a blanket beneath one of the leafy trees to spend the afternoon together. But Lloyd had insisted he couldn’t be pulled away from work—though that hadn’t stopped him from pulling you into his lap.

One thing had led to another and your plan to coax him out of his office had been foiled when he’d talked you into straddling his lap and keeping his cock warm while he worked. With the window open, it had seemed like the perfect compromise. After all, you loved being connected to your husband in such an intimate way, and with you able to stare out the window behind his desk, you’d been content.

For a while.

But your hips ached a little from sitting in the same position for so long, and your body was growing restless from having Lloyd’s perfect cock buried inside you for so many hours without anything in the way of satisfaction. But every time you moved your hips even a little bit, even to readjust yourself, Lloyd’s hand would press firmly against your lower back and he’d urge you to keep still. 

You tried to be good, you really did, but the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon and you could feel the beautiful spring day slipping through your fingers, along with all your plans to enjoy it with your husband. A whine worked its way up your throat and you couldn’t bear to bite it back. 

“Lloyd, please, can’t we go outside for a little while,” you begged, your arms circling around his shoulders and squeezing him tight while you tried, and failed, to keep your hips from rocking in lazy circles. “You can work later.” Your last word came out on a whimper as you felt the delicious drag of his cock against your inner walls, a shiver racing down your spine.

“Just a little while longer, pet,” Lloyd rumbled distractedly, pressing his hand against your lower back and urging you to still your rolling hips. “You can be a good girl for your husband, can’t you?” He offered you a sly smile as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

Huffing an impatient sigh, you let him stop your movements, muttering, “That’s what you said an hour ago.” If you sounded petulant, that’s because you were. You didn’t even try to hide your mood from your husband, who seemed content with ignoring his wife’s needs. 

As if Lloyd could read your mind, he gripped the back of your neck and towed you away from where you’d been draped against his chest so he could look you straight in the eye. “If you give me a few more minutes of peace and quiet, I promise we’ll spend the rest of the afternoon outside,” he said, his tone patient.

But you discovered in that moment that you were all out of patience of your own. You shot Lloyd a glare before you ducked forward and nipped his ear sharply with your teeth, using your cunt to squeeze his cock as hard as your inner muscles could, wringing a grunt from your husband. 

“I want to go outside now,” you hissed in his ear, knowing exactly what you were doing and knowing it was going to get a rise out of Lloyd. But that was exactly what you wanted.

Lloyd’s hand slipped easily from the back of your neck to the wrap around the front, his thumb and middle finger digging into your throat just beneath the cut of your jaw. He pushed you back enough so you could feel the full weight of his glower, but you only scowled at him harder.

“Did you really think that would work?” he asked, tilting his head to the side while he looked down at you. But you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel worried about the dangerous thread in his tone, not when your husband’s attention was finally fully on you. “Cute.” 

Then Lloyd was pushing you up by his grip on your throat, rising to stand with a dark look on his face that sent a shiver down your spine. You whimpered when you lifted off his cock, your body feeling unimaginably empty without him inside you, but your husband only snarled at your pitiful sound.

“You wanna go outside? We’ll go outside,” Lloyd muttered, spinning you around and bending you over the sill of the window behind his desk. It didn’t have a screen so your upper body hung out the back of the house, only your husband’s hand holding you around your throat preventing you from tumbling out into the garden. “How’s this, princess, is this outside enough for you?” Lloyd growled in your ear, curling his body over yours and pinning you to the sill.

But it wasn’t enough for you, not when your cunt was leaking with arousal and your inner walls were fluttering pathetically around nothing. “Need you inside me, husband,” you gasped out, squirming your hips beneath Lloyd’s bigger frame, like you could somehow find the tip of him and force him to drive his full length home.

“First you demand I take you outside, then you demand I be inside you,” Lloyd rumbled, his tone mean in that way that made your whole body clench and pleasure to flood your mind. “You’re needy today aren’t you, cupcake?” he asked mockingly, his free hand reaching between your bodies to grip his dick and slide the head through your soaking folds. 

You went weak and pliant beneath Lloyd when you were so close to getting what you wanted, your lips forming the first desperate words you could manage. “Yes, yes, so needy for your cock, husband, please give it to me, please, I need you to fuck me, oh god, Lloyd, please!”

With one furious thrust, Lloyd buried the full length of his cock deep in your cunt, the tip ramming against the end of you so hard that you shrieked in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Lloyd’s hand tightened around your throat, choking off the loudest of your sounds of pleasure while he curled over your body, his chest pressing to your back, his cock grinding deep in your cunt in a way that made your toes curl. 

“Good girl, angel, sound so sweet begging for your husband’s dick,” Lloyd rumbled, his free hand gripping your hip tightly while he pounded into you with short, deep thrusts, his thighs clapping against the backs of yours. “You didn’t need to be such a brat to get me to fuck you, just needed to beg for me.”

You were too far gone with pleasure to respond, but it occurred to you that Lloyd fucking you through the open window of his office was much better than the lazy picnic sex you’d envisioned for the afternoon. Glancing through the garden, you knew if anyone was around, they’d see the obscene tableau you painted, your husband fucking you over the windowsill, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when the brutal thrusting of Lloyd’s cock felt so exquisite, your cunt clenching down on him as your pleasure grew.

“Fuck, fuck, buttercup, your cunt feels too good, you’re gonna make me come,” Lloyd groaned, his teeth sinking into your shoulder while his hand slipped between your thighs, finding your wet, slippery clit. “Come on your husband’s cock, wife, show me what a good girl you can be with my dick buried deep in this pussy.”

Your orgasm hit you with the suddenness of a champagne cork popping, leaving you awash in wave after wave of dazzling pleasure. A scream tore free from your throat before your husband cut it off with his choking grip. Your body tightened beneath Lloyd, your cunt gripping his cock so hard, it set off his own release. He rutted into you, muttering about your perfect cunt and how you were so good for coming on his cock. 

Together, you rode out your releases together, your bodies writhing against the windowsill until you were both finally sated.

Carefully, Lloyd helped you back inside, and he collapsed into his office chair, his arm banded around your waist pulling you down into his lap and keeping you connected. You leaned heavily back against his chest, your body feeling boneless from pleasure, a satisfied smile curling your lips. 

Lloyd pressed a kiss to your cheek, the bristles of his mustache tickling your skin gently and making you giggle softly.

“Will you be a good girl and let me finish my work now?” he asked in a low, delicious rumble. 

You stretched out your arms and legs, your spine curving and pushing your chest out so Lloyd could see the way your nipples poked against the thin cotton of your sundress. Grinning like the cat that got the cream, you relaxed back into Lloyd’s lap, humming in contentment. 

“I think I can manage for a little while, husband,” you purred, but you tilted your head and caught his eye. “But only for a little while.” There was a warning in your tone that made Lloyd chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping you cooped up on such a nice spring day, wife,” Lloyd murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “At least, not for much longer.” 

True to his word, Lloyd finished his work soon after and, together, the two of you went out into the gardens for a late lunch. You ate the food you’d prepared for the picnic you’d planned, and then Lloyd settled between your thighs to devour you for dessert. 

You laid back on your picnic blanket beneath a shady tree in the garden of your home and let your husband worship your body. After all, it was what you deserved for being such a good wife, and his good girl, while he’d kept you cooped up for so much of the nice spring day.

[audisive]

♪ PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY.  sad girl alternative

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: you've had a bad day, simon's there to fix it.

tags: comfort, crying, self-indulgent, fluff

  Your head laid on the skin of his arm, your face pushed into the comfort of his chest. The sharp edges of your earrings – your favorite ones, he recalls – sank and dug into his skin meanly, but he couldn't care less. As disgusting as it sounds, it could not compare to the way his heart ached to protect your own when he hears you take sharp inhales just to exhale with a sob, sniffles occasionally there to accompany your weeping. It was anything but his priority with the way his arms tightened around you and the way he'd hoped it would be enough to ease your worries and take your pain away; pass it onto him if you must. Anything to make you feel better.

Oh, the things he'd be willing to but could not do to instead receive a painfully unfunny joke from you in the place of your sobs. He settles on wiping the tears off your face, knowing how it makes you feel when it dries and sticks to your skin uncomfortably. The small droplets were everywhere and increased with every passing minute, but he took the time to wipe them off one by one. Had you not been in agony, you would've been in awe at the way this gigantically scary man was being so gentle with you; it was one of the best reminders of how his heart belonged to you and how well he'd taken care of your own.

Simon holds you forever – at least that's what it feels like – and whispers sweet nothings into your ear to distract you, even just for a little bit. "'S fine," he reassures you, each word filled with promise and not an ounce of doubt. "You'll be okay, y'hear me? I got you." It's warm, and he still faintly smells of gun powder, mixed with the well-used cologne you'd bought him for his birthday last year. You don't pay any mind to the smell of tobacco lingering; you know it's not his.

You've long since learned – all thanks to him – to refrain from apologizing for your show of vulnerability and emotions. It leaves you guilty, still, eating you up at night with the knowledge of his uneasiness when it comes to emotions, but for him, nothing's better than learning to get over his fears with his one and only love. Love always makes us do things we don't want to, right?

His arms found the way to wrap themselves around you heavily like a weighted blanket hours ago and have continued to stay. It serves as a comfort for you, along with his words. In his sweater, his arms, his bed, his room. He's all you can see and all you can feel, but you're not complaining, and neither is he.

You calm down after a moment, letting your breathing grow steady while the wet spots of tears in his sweater dried up. Simon Riley hates to see you cry, but damn it if he can't be the one to comfort you.

"There's m' pretty girl," he whispers in that charmingly rough yet gentle voice of his, looking down at the way your lashes glisten with salty little tears when you find the strength to press your cheek to his chest instead of burying your face in the warm surface. "Feelin' better now, sweets?" He's so terribly sweet to and with you that you think you might cry again just because. You barely even nod, but you know he notices; he always does.

"Y'wanna talk about it?" His hand plants itself onto your back; it gives you a sense of stability. Everything about him is so large in a way that engulfs you whole, and it would terrify any sane person. Perhaps you aren't, not anymore, but you found the warmth and comfort of your home in him. He kisses your forehead without so much as a pause when you shake your head. "A'right, we'll jus' stay here, then."

And stay, you do, cuddled up against him. It doesn't take long before all the crying takes its toll on you, your head starts to hurt, and your eyelids start to give up. Before you know it, you're pulled into the deep depths of unconsciousness. It's too early into the night; you've skipped two meals, and you've worked yourself near death. You know full well that you'll wake up with a raging headache after crying yourself to sleep, too. You'll wake up too early in the morning; your muscles will be sore, and you're still starving. You might as well pass out immediately after waking up.

Still, you sleep at ease and without worry. Why would you not? Simon will be there to fix it. ♡

  divider by @cafekitsune !

[fen-luciel]

Baby fever

I wrote this little piece today because I desperately needed to. Initially, I thought of linking it to my main series, but it's too soon and I don't want to give away any spoilers.

So, consider it a "What if" of The Mistakes of a Acolyte, or if you prefer, just a standalone story.

I hope you enjoy it.

(C/n)= child name

Here part 2

Summary: Just you, Qimir and your child.

I was jolted awake by the cry of a baby. Confused from sleep, I tried to get up, pulling myself up by one arm, but a warm hand gently pressed my shoulder, pushing me back onto the mattress.

"It's okay, darling, I'll take care of it" Qimir's husky voice whispered in my ear. His arm reached over me to pull the covers back over my body.

"Rest"

The bed creaked as he got up. I turned to see him putting on a pair of boxers and walking out of the bedroom. His messy hair and the pillow mark on his cheek made me smile weakly.

I turned my gaze to the baby monitor, where the screen clearly showed the baby’s room and (c/n) stirring in his crib.

I was glad we had bought full-coverage bodysuits, he moved so much that I was afraid he would scratch his face with his nails.

Fortunately, Qimir soon entered the room and turned on the toy lights installed there, which illuminated the room in blue, projecting little stars onto the ceiling.

He gently picked up (c/n), whispering words I couldn't quite understand through the monitor.

I relaxed when I saw him gradually stop crying, his body resting on Qimir's bare chest, his head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. Qimir whispered something in his ear that made him chuckle softly.

My heart melted seeing them together, it seemed the more time passed, the more I fell in love with my family, something I hadn't thought possible.

He approached the camera, showing (c/n) up close, his eyes half-closed, about to fall asleep again.

"Say hi to mommy, darling. See? We’re always watching you from here" he gently took his arm in his hand, waving it slowly in front of the lens, the tiny fist opening and closing in the mitten.

I smiled as I watched them both yawn.

A few minutes later, Qimir began to put him back in the crib, now completely asleep. I struggled to keep my eyes open but wanted to wait for him to return to bed.

I waited for him to cover him with the blanket and turn off the light, leaving only the small one near the floor on. Then he closed the door and came back to the bedroom.

"I thought you had fallen back asleep" he whispered, seeing me awake. I turned onto my other side, waiting for him to join me. "And miss the sexy Sith rocking his baby? Never."

He leaned over me, and I gently took his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his, slow and languid, before we stared into each other's eyes for a few silent seconds.

"I love you"

I whispered.

"I love you too. And I will protect our family. Always. Okay?" he replied huskily.

I nodded.

He kissed me one last time before lying down next to me, an arm around my waist, pulling me against his bare chest. I took a deep breath and buried my face in his neck.

Safe.

[messenger-of-babel]

A Perfect Gift

Summary: Last minute Christmas shopping with Tim, and you can't decide what to get him. (Tim Drake x reader)

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes: Interesting posting schedule coming up- so be warned! I can't believe I didn't write more for Tim in Angstober?? Guess I'm gonna have to write him some unseasonal angst in the future.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Come on, surely you know what to get them." You laugh at Tim as you walk along the streets of the shopping district in Gotham, hands interlocked and swinging gently. He puffs out his cheeks, shaking his head defeatedly. "I do not. That's why you're here." he argues.

"Why don't you try getting them something they don't have? Something useful?"

"Babe. They're Waynes. There is not a single thing here that they need or haven't already bought themselves." he points out with a sigh, his blue eyes flicking over the boutique mannequins as you walk past.

You hum. "That's true." you say as you reach a hand out to pick some snow from his hair, the soft white powder beginning to fall from the sky once again. It had snowed earlier in the day, leaving everything in a blanket of white, but in true Gotham fashion it had turned to brown icy sludge within hours. "It just means that we need to find something that they didn't know they needed."

With a tug on his hand, you pull him into a store, bell ringing softly as you entered the warm display room. Little did Tim know that you were looking for something for him as well. He had been teasing you since the start of the month, saying that he had already picked out something for you and that you were going to love it. You had responded almost immediately, competitive and determined to get him an equally good, if not better, gift. However now it was only a few days before Christmas, and you were still empty handed. Not only that, but it was also going to be your first Christmas with the Waynes. Your family had decided to have a location Christmas, opting to try out a warmer Christmas for once and escape the cold grasp of Gotham. You had been invited, but who could refuse spending a Christmas with Tim?

You caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, studying his expression. He was chewing his lip between his teeth, eyes scanning the store anxiously. It was almost like you could hear the gears in his head turning, trying to scan for something that his brothers and sisters would like. You decide it's time to strike, pulling him in further with you.

"See anything you like?"

His eyes flick to you, but he only hums low in his throat. "I don't think Jason would like anything here. Dick might, but I don't know his sizes. And that watch over there," he points to one in a display. "I was going to get Bruce that, but Duke said he already got it for him. If we check the women's I might find something for Steph or Babs, Cass would probably not like anything from that section, it's not really her style. Oh, but Stephanie will probably get offended if I pick clothes and get it wrong, so definitely not that-"

You sigh as he rambles, the stress in his eyes resurfacing. You try to trace the store where he looks, hoping to catch sight of something that he looks at for more than three seconds.

The first store is a bust for you both, and you venture back into the cold.

You always had trouble with giving Tim gifts. Really, what could you buy for the son of a billionaire who had everything he could ever want? It seemed like the amount of trouble Tim was having with his family was the exact same issue you were having with him. You let out a sigh, anxiety building in your chest.

When you and Tim had first met, you weren't even sure if he liked you. You were study partners in university, who weren't even taking the same classes. Was sharing the same table at the same time in the library considered a first date? You couldn't even call it the talking stage, considering the library was pin silent at all times. If anything, the talking was done through small smiles and tiny nods. His first present to you had been before you had even been dating.

You had rocked up to the library for the new semester to pick up your textbooks and pay off the balance for it, only for the librarian to tell you that someone by the last name 'Drake' had come in earlier to pay for his and your own. Shocked you had piled them into your arms, not knowing who your mysterious donor was until you saw the sticky notes and familiar scribble on top. "Hope to see you around again this semester- Tim Drake.'

You had dated shortly into the new semester, and since then he had been the perfect gift giver. Six-month anniversary he got you an engraved tag pendant with the names of your close family members that lived outside of Gotham, after you had told him how you wished you could see them more. In comparison you had saved up for a watch that cost you around $200, and you had been really proud of it.

Yet that was crushed the first time you went to his place, and you saw the watch box of luxury timepieces, all engraved with nice messages. Most of them were from Bruce, but there was a nicely worn one (clearly a favourite) signed off by Alfred. Since then, you had felt this low embarrassment whenever he wore the watch you gave him. Despite your gentle protests he never took it off, even if it didn't go with his outfit that night or glinted garishly in the flash of the paparazzi camera. So, this time, you wanted something perfect.

As the evening drew on you had managed to help him get the perfect gifts for everyone, his arms slowly filling with shopping bags. You had suggested getting Haley something and gifting to Dick, so you had gone to a pet boutique and bought a new black and blue collar, with a sturdy lead to match knowing how strong she could be at times. You couldn't help but throw a scarf in there for her too.

Damian (who Tim was begrudging to get a gift for but still didn't want to leave him out) received some treats for Titus alongside a set of new sketching pencils since the youngest Wayne had been running out, yet too busy as Robin to refill them just yet. You both had taken a decent amount of time trying to remember what brand he liked, knowing that there would be a barbed backhanded comment coming your way if you didn't get the right ones.

Jason got a new leather satchel that would fit nicely on his bike and was weather proofed. You didn't expect more than a gruff thanks aimed in your direction, considering his aloofness (you weren't sure if he wasn't a fan of you in particular or if he was just uncomfortable being in the manor in general). But you snuck a notebook in there when Tim wasn't looking, hoping to win over the gruff brother.

'For when you have late stakeouts' you had written on the front, signing your name after. 'So, you can put down your writing, so you don't forget it.'

Duke got a new box of booster packs for the card game he was collecting, and thankfully your university friend let you know that the new series had just landed, meaning there was a good chance that Duke hadn't gotten his hands on it yet. Cass was given a year's membership to the Gotham City Art Gallery, which also allowed her to go late at night with fewer members of the public if she wanted a quieter experience. Steph and Barbara got given gift packs from the spa they often visited together, as well as a bottomless brunch in the new year at their favourite cafe. Alfred had been tricky, but you suggested a new tea set for his personal use. It was simple, white with very little flourishes, but you had gotten his name printed in fine gold on the teacups. Something that belonged only to him.

Then it had been trying to find something for Bruce himself. You had gotten stuck with that yourself. The most you had been able to do was settle for a nice handwritten card from the both of you, alongside a vintage bottle of port. Bruce could buy that himself a thousand times over if he wished, but it was the thought that counted, right?

Despite the thoughts that 'counted', you were still lost on what to get Tim for Christmas. You had run through everything in your mind, and everything he looked at. Yet his face was mostly indifferent as he focused on shopping for everyone else, making it near impossible for you to gauge his interest in things. Finally, as you were headed back to the pick-up spot so he could call Alfred, you dug your heels into the pavement. He bounced back lightly, your joined hands stopping him from going any further.

"Are you okay?" he asks, bags bouncing in his arms.

"What do you want for Christmas?" you ask bluntly. The stress was reaching its peak, surprising him be damned. You don't know you could face the embarrassment in front of everyone if you got him something that he didn't like. Tim tilts his head, eyebrows pinching together.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," you take a deep breath. "What do you want? there's not much I can give you that you can’t get yourself, or that the others aren't going to give you. So, what's one thing that I can give you that others can't?"

He takes a moment before putting the bags down on the ground and giving you a soft smile. He wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you lightly. "You."

your heart thuds at the proximity and the tenderness in his voice, his eyes searching yours. "And not in that way. I just want to spend Christmas with you. Make that house feel more like a home. Make the manor a little less haunted. That's all I could ever ask from you, silly."

he bumps his forehead against yours, making you chuckle breathily. His lips graze across yours lightly, but before you could lean forward there was a honk of Alfred arriving.

Tim pulls back, leaning down to grab half of the bags while you grabbed the others. "Come on," he gestures with a tilt of his head. "You can join us for dinner. Alfred makes the best Sunday roast."

As you watched him slide into the car, the ball of worry dissipated in your chest. You settled on a gift for him.

If home is what he wanted, then surely a locket of you two would be a portable sanctuary.

[jeonluvz]

♡4: The great outdoors n gloss

A/N: Public touching isn’t so bad when you’re with him! Jungkook being this type of Dom, is hot ;) But now it’s time for the author to tease you ;) I’m evil ehehehe. I mean we are almost 1/4 away from the end of the series :(

WC: 5k

WARNINGS: Read here, for mature audiences

PREVIOUS | NEXT

You kneel beside the picnic blanket, reaching into your velvet bag for the utensils, the black lace thong peeking just above your skirt. Jungkook watches from where he lounges back against the shady tree he chose—far from the path, tucked into quiet seclusion. His gaze lingers, slow and heavy, as the lace hugs your hips, the fabric teasing over your curves.

“Grab some napkins too, yeah?” he says, voice casual, but the way his fingers drum on his thigh gives him away.

You toss a look over your shoulder, playful, as you pull out a small stack of napkins and set them down. Then you sit back on your heels, straightening your skirt—though not all the way—and glance at him again.

“Too hot?” you ask innocently.

He hums low, eyes trailing down your thighs. “Mm. Just right.” His lips curve, lazy and knowing. “Keep sitting like that and I might forget this is lunch.”

You laugh, cheeks warm, but your body stays right where it is.

His arm hooks around your waist, pulling you close as your head settles on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your cheek—slow, steady.

“Beautiful day,” he murmurs, eyes scanning the open stretch of grass and trees ahead. His voice is low and relaxed, but there’s something alert in his gaze. “Not many people.”

You hum, shifting to get more comfortable, one leg sliding over his. “Because there’s an event across the street, remember?” You tilt your head up. “The one with the food trucks and the DJ? That’s where everyone went.”

“Right,” he sighs, hand splaying over your waist as he tugs you in tighter. “Still… shoulda bought the mini tent like them.” He nods toward a couple in the distance, half-hidden beneath the mesh of a small pop-up.

You glance over, amused. “Too late now.”

“Could’ve had you grinding in my lap and no one would’ve noticed.” His thumb grazes your hip. “Now I gotta behave.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile is smug. “Do you ever really behave?”

“Didn’t say I would. Just said I gotta.” He grins lazily, eyes dropping to the sliver of lace visible beneath your skirt again.

You nudge his ribs, laughing quietly. “Eat your kimbap.”

He squeezes your waist once before letting go, reaching for the container. “Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You sit up to unwrap a triangle kimbap, legs crossed and your back turned just slightly as you focus on the plastic. Jungkook leans back on one elbow behind you, watching. His fingers brush casually along your spine, right where your shirt rides up—light, idle, like he’s not even thinking about it.

“You always get the tuna one,” he says, voice a little lower.

“It’s the best one,” you shrug, biting into it. “And you always act like you don’t like it, but then eat half.”

He doesn’t deny it. His hand smooths down, tracing the waistband of your skirt, knuckles brushing your exposed lower back. He’s not obvious, just slow, calm. It’s more heat than intention—for now.

You lean into it a little, finishing your bite. “You’re touchy.”

“You wore that,” he murmurs near your ear, “knowing damn well what it does to me.”

“I wore it ‘cause it’s hot out,” you lie, smiling into your next bite.

He chuckles under his breath. “Right. And the little lace thong just slipped on by accident?”

You don’t answer. His fingers press lower, a soft graze over the dip just above the lace. Still lazy. Still restrained. But not innocent.

“Be good and finish eating,” he says, stealing a bite of your kimbap without asking.

His hand lingers as he chews, palm settling warm on your lower back. He leans in as you swallow the last bite, his breath warm by your ear now, steady and low like a quiet hum.

“I’d take you right here if we weren’t in public.”

You freeze a little, the heat of his words slinking down your spine.

“You know that, right?” he continues, his lips ghosting just behind your ear now. “Wouldn’t even care if someone walked past.”

His hand dips lower, palm spreading against the back of your thigh, slow drag upward, thumb catching just under the lace.

“Fuck, this skirt barely covers anything… Like you want someone to see.”

You can’t speak. Just pulse. Just breathe.

He kisses below your ear, not sweet—intentional, biting back a growl as he pulls your waist closer to his lap.

“I could pull these to the side right now,” he whispers, voice thick. “Have you sit on me, let that cute little bow press against my zipper.”

Your thighs press together involuntarily, but he catches it, smirks against your neck.

“Mm, yeah, you like that,” he murmurs. “You’re already soaked through, aren’t you?”

His fingers flex a little on your thigh, like he’s restraining himself.

“You’re lucky I’ve got some patience left,” he says, “But finish your drink, baby. We’ll move somewhere quieter.”

And his hand doesn’t move. Just stays there—claiming, quiet, burning.

His hand stays put, firm on your thigh like a warning and a promise. He doesn’t move it, but his leg shifts beneath you—just enough that you feel the tension pulsing through him. His jeans are doing a poor job at hiding what he’s holding back, and you know he’s not ignoring it—he’s mastering it.

Jungkook glances around the park again, jaw flexing once, then leans in lower, voice calm but coiled.

“Took the back roads here,” he murmurs against your temple. “No cops, no slow cars. Just curves and trees and you pressed against my back.”

He gives a low chuckle.

“You think I didn’t notice the way your tits bounced every time we hit a turn?” His voice drops, eyes dark as he scans your face. “That top’s barely holding anything. I was this close to pulling over.”

His thigh presses up between yours subtly, like he’s testing your reaction without moving too fast.

“Couldn’t have some bored officer pulling us over just to stare down your shirt,” he says, lips brushing your ear. “Would’ve had to knock him out. Or fuck you in front of him so he’d learn who you’re really dressed for.”

His hand finally slides an inch higher. Not much. But enough that it aches.

You exhale slowly, and he smirks like he’s won something.

“Be good,” he warns. “We’ll get there. But for now…”

He reaches for a rice ball, pops a bite into his mouth, and chews like nothing’s happening—except the slight strain in his jeans, the slow roll of his shoulder against yours, and the way his fingers stay curled into the meat of your thigh like he owns the timing and the outcome.

He watches in silence. Doesn’t say a word at first—doesn’t need to. The second you pull that little mirror out from your velvet bag and start applying gloss, it’s like a wire inside him tightens another notch.

Your lips part slightly, the soft smack of gloss settling. You bat your lashes and glance up through the mirror, like you don’t notice how heavy his gaze is. Like you don’t feel his thigh still nudging up between yours.

From somewhere across the park, faint music floats in—some upbeat pop track, nothing special—but it gives you just enough rhythm to sway a little, legs crossed, gloss wand painting slow strokes over your lips.

You murmur softly, half to yourself, half teasing:

“Mmh, kinda nice with the music, huh?”

That’s when Jungkook shifts.

He leans in close, one hand gripping your knee—not hard, just deliberate. Possessive in restraint.

“You trying to get in trouble?” he mutters low, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Sitting here glossing up like you’re not already dripping under that tiny thong?”

Your heart stutters, but you keep your cool. That’s when he loses his.

The hand slides higher. Still under the guise of casual, still under the safe veil of your little shaded spot—but his fingers squeeze just above your inner thigh now, a deep pull of muscle that makes your breath hitch.

“You keep doing that—keep looking at me like that—I will take you back on that bike, right now. No food, no talk. Just your gloss smeared and those thighs spread over the tank.”

He doesn’t kiss you. Doesn’t press forward. Just stays there, cheek brushing yours, heat rolling off him in waves. And then he leans back, slow, like he’s daring you to test him again.

The gloss still shines. His patience doesn’t.

He snaps the way a wire does when it’s been pulled too tight for too long—silently, then suddenly.

Your soft little giggle is the last straw.

“It looks so pretty, I like my lips nice n juicy,” you say, all sweet and proud, tapping the wand against your bottom lip like you didn’t just undo him with one line.

Jungkook’s jaw ticks. The hand that was resting politely on your thigh now grips hard, thumb dragging up the crease until your breath catches. You barely get a second to react before he leans in, voice low, sharp against your ear.

“Juicy, huh?” he hisses. “You say shit like that again, I’ll fuck your mouth right here. Right after I rip that gloss off with my tongue.”

He pulls back just enough to look you over. Eyes cold, wild, a hint of disbelief that you really went there. But he’s into it. You can see it in the way his chest rises just a bit faster, the way his legs shift. And then? He grabs your jaw, fingers firm but not rough, turning your face to him.

“You think it’s cute, teasing like that?” His thumb presses against your glossed lip. “These lips—your attitude—you’re dying to get fucked stupid in public, aren’t you?”

There’s a pause.

Just birds. Distant music. Your pulse pounding in your throat.

Then Jungkook breathes in through his nose, calming himself for a second, thumb swiping slow over the shine of your lower lip before he lets go—shaking his head once, jaw tight.

“Finish your food,” he mutters, voice low but cracked. “We’re not staying long.”

Jungkook blinks once, slowly, trying to fight the heat building in him. His eyes stay on you as you whine, chest bouncing with the motion, a reminder of how perfectly you’re made for his hands, his eyes, his every impulse.

“We just got here, not even 10 minutes ago,” you say, voice teasing, like you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

His fingers tighten around his drink, knuckles going white. His jaw clenches, and that damn red haze starts creeping across his vision.

He looks at you, eyes like molten steel now. The way you move. The way you fucking breathe. You’re impossible, but he’s so addicted to you. His teeth grind together, frustration barely contained.

“Yeah? And you really want to keep playing games, baby?” He huffs, voice tight, unable to hide the raw want.

His gaze flickers to your chest again, that damn bounce driving him crazy. His patience? Completely shot. It takes everything in him not to pull you onto his lap and just own that moment.

“You’re really testing me right now.” His voice is darker than before, edged with something primal. But he forces a slow breath, watching you like he’s trying to hold back a fucking storm.

“You’ve got 10 minutes before I take you behind that tree and fuck you until you can’t remember your name.” His smirk is slow, deliberate, knowing full well what you’re tempting.

He takes a deep breath, visibly steadying himself. “Finish that food. Or I’ll make you finish it in a way you won’t forget.”

Jungkook watches you, his eyes following the movement of your chest as you lean over, lost in the warmth of the summer day. His mind races, but his body stays still, drawn to the way you move, the way you seem to exist in your own world, unaware of the pull you have on him.

For a moment, he forgets the heat in his veins, just watching the way the sunlight hits your skin, how your chest rises and falls with every breath, the softness of you almost making him forget he’s fighting himself.

The breeze rustles through the trees, the park peaceful, but his mind is anything but.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?” he asks quietly, voice like a low rumble. He’s not even sure if you hear him, but it’s more of a statement than a question. His eyes don’t leave you, the way the sunlight casts a golden glow around your silhouette.

He leans back on his hands, taking a deep breath, the image of you there with him, so unaware, gnawing at him. His body is still tight, tense. He’s been holding back long enough, but the calm of the moment is slipping away.

“You’re making it really hard to focus,” he adds, his tone teasing but there’s an edge to it, as if the slow burn is reaching its peak. His gaze shifts, lingering on you, almost daring you to notice what he’s holding in.

The world around them seems to fade, the only thing left being the undeniable pull between them.

He watches the subtle shift, his eyes narrowing as he spots the faint glimpse of the black cheetah print peeking from under your shirt. The soft material of the pull-up bra you’re wearing, something he picked out for you during his trip, drives him to the edge.

He leans forward slightly, his jaw clenched as he takes a slow breath. “I didn’t think you’d wear them today,” he says, his voice low, barely controlled. The sight of the print alone makes his blood run hot, and he can’t help the smug smirk that creeps onto his face.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice,” he continues, his voice darker now. He takes a step closer, leaning down slightly to get a better view. The way you’re wearing them, the subtle hint of the print against your shirt—it’s almost too much for him. “Fuck, you’re really making this hard for me, aren’t you?”

His hands itch to touch you, to pull at the fabric, but he holds himself back, biting his lip. His focus is unwavering, and it’s all because of you—the way you’ve effortlessly sparked a fire inside him without even trying.

“Don’t think I’m forgetting this,” he says with a little chuckle, shaking his head as he looks away for a moment to calm himself, though the tension is still thick in the air.

You keep your gaze on the sky, watching the birds glide through the warm air, feeling the gentle breeze on your skin. You try to focus, trying to let your mind wander, but the heat of the moment keeps creeping in. His presence is heavy behind you, like a magnetic force that pulls at every part of you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him watching you intently, his gaze tracking every subtle movement you make. His hands are tense, his body slightly rigid, as if he’s trying to restrain himself from acting on the surge of desire you’ve unknowingly ignited. The tension is palpable, like a wire stretched too tight, and you can almost feel it thrumming between you both.

You tilt your head slightly, catching his eye for just a second before you look back to the sky, knowing full well the effect you’re having on him. The way he’s trying to control himself only makes the moment more charged, the silence louder in the absence of words.

You can sense that he’s holding back, but you also know that it’s only a matter of time before that restraint breaks, because it always does. His eyes never leave you, his body language betraying the calm front he’s trying to maintain. You feel the subtle shift in the air—the building anticipation—and it makes your pulse quicken.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you tease quietly, just loud enough for him to hear, even though you’re sure you’re both aware of the unspoken tension hanging between you.

He looks at you, his eyes dark with a mix of frustration and something deeper, almost like a quiet command. His jaw clenches, and you can tell he’s barely holding it together.

“Go behind the tree,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. “Now.”

You don’t move right away, the silence stretching between you both, but his tone makes it clear he’s not asking. His eyes flicker to your lips, and you can see the frustration building in him, the subtle but undeniable shift in his posture.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he adds, his voice thick with something primal, his hands clenched at his sides as if holding himself back from reaching out. He’s trying to stay composed, but you can see it’s taking everything he has.

You rise slowly, brushing your skirt down even though it’s hopelessly short, deliberately letting your movements stay unhurried. You don’t glance back, but you feel his stare—sharp, heavy, tracking every shift of your body as you walk toward the shade of the tree line.

By the time you reach the spot, you can already hear his footsteps behind you—steady, controlled, but quickening.

He steps up close behind you, the heat of him unmistakable even with the slight breeze. One hand brushes your lower back, firm and quiet.

“You think I wouldn’t notice the way you kept stretching like that?” he mutters, eyes not leaving your body as he walks around to face you, crowding close. “You really thought I was just gonna sit there while you put on a fucking show?”

His breath is shallow now, and his gaze burns as it drops to your chest, your thighs, then back up to your eyes. “You’re lucky it was me watching, not someone else.”

“I look cute, don’t I?” you pout, chin tilted just enough to be playful, lips glistening from the gloss you’d just applied.

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. He just stares at your mouth like it’s already his, then lifts his hand—his thumb presses softly against your lower lip, smudging the shine slightly as he rubs slow.

“Very cute, baby doll,” he says, voice low, almost amused but edged with restraint. “Too cute for your own good.”

Then, with his thumb still at your mouth, he leans in—close enough for you to feel the way his body is fighting to stay calm, the way his breath fans your cheek like he’s holding something back. You can see it all in his eyes—how badly he wants to ruin the calm he built for this day.

“There’s no bathrooms, no other place,” Jungkook mutters, scanning the stretch of shaded grass and trees behind you both like he’s already made peace with what’s about to happen. “So I hope you like a bit of wind.”

Before you can say a word, his thumb presses in, just past your lips. Your eyes flick up to him as you suck, slow and deliberate, tasting the skin as your lips close around it. His gaze doesn’t waver—it darkens.

“Yeah,” he breathes, low and dry, eyes locked on the way your mouth moves around his thumb. “That’s what I thought.”

The leaves rustle faint above, but neither of you move, the air thick now, tighter than it was a second ago.

“You wanna make my lips glossy too, baby?” he asks, voice low with a bite of teasing, but his eyes say otherwise—hungry, held back, ticking in his jaw.

You nod slowly, biting your lip like you already know what’s coming.

He steps forward in one swift motion, pinning you against the rough bark with a clean kebedon, one palm flat above your head, the other slipping low around your waist. His chest presses into yours as his breath warms your cheek.

Then his mouth is on you—rough, heavy, controlled only by the thinnest thread of restraint. His lips drag, pull, and press like he’s trying to take back every second he spent holding off. The kiss isn’t just messy—it’s claiming. You feel it down your spine. And still, somehow, you know this is him taming himself.

He groans into your mouth, deep and guttural, like it’s been bottled up too long and your lips finally broke the seal. His grip tightens—both hands sliding down to your thighs, pulling you flush against the tree until there’s no space left between you and the rough bark biting at your back.

“Stay still,” he mutters against your lips, voice husky, jaw tight. His fingers dig in, thumbs brushing just under the edge of your ass.

He leans back just enough to look at you—lips wet, pupils blown, chest rising faster—and then he licks his bottom lip slow, eyes flicking down your body like he’s already decided how this ends.

“Fuck,” he breathes, hands spreading your thighs just a bit more. “You shouldn’t be allowed to look this good in public.”

You giggle, the sound soft and teasing—and that’s all it takes. His restraint snaps.

Jungkook dives into your neck, no hesitation, mouth rough and hungry as he sucks hard against your skin. He’s not gentle, not this time. His lips and teeth leave heat and sting in their wake, dragging across the curve of your throat, the edge of your jaw.

His breath is ragged. “You think you can wear that little tank, those pull-up bras, bat your lashes like that—and I’m just supposed to sit back and be calm?”

He bites again, just below your ear, then laves over it with his tongue.

“No fucking way.”

You can feel each mark blooming under his lips, your body pressed to the bark, the heat of the summer day nothing compared to the heat crawling under your skin now—his.

His hands slide down, gripping your ass like he owns the whole damn view. He palms it, spreads it just a little, eyes locked on how the fabric stretches tight over the curve.

“So fucking pretty, baby,” he murmurs low, voice gravel-thick, mouth still ghosting over your neck. “So dangerous.”

His thumbs tease the hem of the thong, playing with the edge, snapping it lightly against your skin.

“You walk around like this and expect me to behave?” He scoffs, lips brushing your ear. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

He squeezes again, fingers digging deeper, pulling you just enough to feel how hard he’s gotten. “One more minute and I’m not gonna stop at marks, baby. You’ll feel every damn second of what you started.”

He palms it again, slower this time, deliberate—like he’s memorizing the weight of it in his hands. His fingers press into the plush flesh, spreading, squeezing, molding.

“So plump,” he mutters, almost to himself, tone lower, rougher. “Fills my hands just right.”

He smirks as he gives one cheek a light slap, watching it bounce before grabbing it again with a satisfied hum. “Like it was made for me to hold.”

His hands don’t stop moving—up, down, in teasing circles—dragging the lace higher, exposing more, testing your patience right along with his. “How am I supposed to keep my fucking head straight with this walking around me all day?”

His fingers trail along the crease where your thigh meets that curve he can’t stop obsessing over. His voice stays low, lips barely brushing your ear as he mutters, “Mm, wanna be between your thighs…”

He squeezes again, slow, eyes locked on how your body reacts under his touch. “…but that ass is so soft,” he groans, almost like it’s paining him. “I could stay here all fucking day.”

He bends slightly, face brushing against your lower back, kissing the curve just above the lace. “This? This fucks with me.” Another squeeze, harder this time.

“Not fair, baby.”

Jungkook pauses, eyes scanning your face, noting the pout pulling at your lips. It’s a soft thing, but it hits him harder than expected. He swallows, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip before he answers, his voice hushed but firm, “No, we’re staying here.”

You blink up at him, confused, as his hand drifts down your waist. His eyes darken slightly, and he leans in closer, the words coming out in a soft whisper, just for you. “Your punishment is…” He lets the pause stretch, making you lean in, waiting for the rest. “Not getting to leave until I say so.”

A slight smirk pulls at his lips, his fingers trailing along the fabric of your shirt as he adds, “You’re not getting away from me that easily, baby.”

Jungkook’s lips curl into a slight smirk as he pulls back, his gaze lingering on your outfit, taking in every detail with slow, deliberate eyes. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now,” he mutters, almost to himself, the words dripping with restrained desire.

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear as he continues, his voice low, a hint of frustration edging in. “I could take you right here, right now. No one would even notice, not with how you’re dressed. This…,” he pauses, his hand grazing the edge of your shirt, “…this outfit, it’s a fucking tease.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his jaw clenched as he takes a breath, trying to steady himself. “But I won’t. Not yet.” His thumb brushes your cheek gently, but there’s an underlying tension in his touch. “I want you to feel how I feel when I see you like this… when you make it so damn hard to focus on anything but you.”

He exhales, eyes tracing the curve of your body, feeling the heat rise in him. “You’re driving me crazy, but I want to make you wait. Let you feel this… torment.”

Jungkook’s smirk widens as he watches you, his eyes darkening with amusement and desire. He steps closer, the space between you shrinking, but he doesn’t touch you—not yet. His hand hovers just above your skin, grazing the hem of your shirt as he speaks.

“You look so fucking good right now, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rough, the words just barely escaping his lips. “I could make you beg for it, but I’m not sure I want to just yet.” His fingers brush lightly against the curve of your waist, his touch featherlight, just enough to make you shiver.

He steps back, just enough to see the way your body responds, his eyes scanning over you with an almost predatory intensity. “Look at you,” he adds, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You think I don’t know how much you’re aching right now? All because of this little outfit… You think that’s not on purpose?”

He watches you intently, as if he’s waiting for the slightest reaction, knowing that each passing second of hesitation will make the tension thicker, harder to resist. His voice lowers again, barely a whisper. “But you’re gonna wait… just a little longer.”

Jungkook’s gaze sharpens as he watches the subtle movement of your throat when you gulp. He tilts his head slightly, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk. He steps forward again, his hand coming up to gently rest on your shoulder, just enough to make you feel his presence without overwhelming you.

“You’re so easy to read,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I can feel how much you want this, but you’re not getting it yet.” His fingers trace down your arm slowly, sending a shiver through your body, before he grips your wrist gently, pulling your hand up to his chest. “I want you to feel how hard I’m holding back, how much I want to give you this. But I’ll make you wait… just a little longer.”

His lips press softly to your ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You’re gonna get what you want, just not when you expect it.” His hand moves down to the curve of your hip, his touch lingering as if he’s savoring every moment, each movement slow and deliberate.

“Do you like it, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing, but there’s an edge to it—an undeniable promise. “Do you want me to stop, or do you want more?” He knows exactly how to push, how to make the tension unbearable, his eyes never leaving yours, daring you to give in, even if you don’t want to.

Jungkook smirks to himself as he watches the blush spread across your cheeks, his heart pounding slightly faster at the effect he has on you. The playful tension that hung between you both was thick, almost suffocating, but it made the moment all the more intoxicating.

He takes a step back, still with that devilish grin on his face, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Mm nope,” he hums, a teasing glint in his voice, before he turns, walking away from you casually, like he’s just made a simple comment. “Glad you liked it, though.”

You’re left standing there, your heart still racing, feeling a mix of confusion and desire as his footsteps fade. Your mind spins—one moment, you were just about to give in, wanting more, and now, he’s pulling away, leaving you flustered and uncertain.

You watch him, eyes wide, your chest tight. “Wait—Jungkook!” You stammer, almost breathlessly, still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster he’s put you through.

But he doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t stop walking either, his steps steady and deliberate. “Let’s go home,” he calls back over his shoulder, his tone casual and unbothered, as though nothing had just happened.

You stand there for a moment, trying to collect yourself, but all you can do is stare at his retreating figure, the heat on your skin intensifying as you bite your lip in frustration. You want more. You want him to finish what he started. But for some reason, he’s walking away, leaving you hanging, your heart pounding and your thoughts jumbled.

Blushing even harder now, you force yourself to take a deep breath, gathering the strength to follow after him, still confused and flustered by the power he holds over you. But you can’t help but feel that this moment—this game he’s playing—isn’t over yet. And as much as you’re left wondering, you know he has a way of making you crave what he gives, even if it’s only a glimpse.

[basedhighsenberg]

Tonight at work I had an engaged couple in their 40s come in who have been a regular of mine for a while now.

Every time they come in they, specifically he, asks for me. The guy is a textbook himbo construction worker but he's also one of the nicest most genuine people I've met since working there. Imagine a golden retriever that has been trained to operate a cement mixer.

They come up the counter and he is visibly anxious and turning red. He puts a small box on the counter and starts to say "So this is my mom's ring-" except can't quite finish the sentence and starts ugly sobbing in the store, in front of like a dozen other guests. He continues to take it out of the box while sobbing.

His fiance and I do our best to calm him down. I bring them over to a sitting area and grab a box of tissues for him. Finally he calms down, and he's able to actually talk his ideas through- which are actually very sweet. He goes on to explain that his mother passed recently and they had discussed using some of the diamonds in her old ring for for his future wife's engagement set.

He already had an idea- he wanted to combine two white gold contour bands into a ring-wrap to go with the ring she already had, and wanted to sub out several of the diamonds in the already existing WG bands for ones in his mom's ring. After inspecting the ring and consulting with my jeweler, we decided it was extremely feasible and should only take two-ish weeks.

Before I can use stones from an outside ring though, I have to test them to be sure they're diamonds. So as we do this, he again gets super anxious and starts welling up with tears. Thankfully though, all diamonds according to my tester (and my eye- I can now spot fake shit through a microscope fairly well).

I watch the wave of catharsis role over him like a warm blanket as I tell him the diamonds are all real. He then proceeds to run on a tangent. "is the ring good? Like, did my dad do good? Cause they were poor growing up and they did right by me and my sisters but like, is it a good ring? Did he have to work a lot for it? Is it good? I think it is but I'm not an expert. What do you think?"

It was built probably in the 60s when gold was cheaper and rings were often chunkier. A cathedral style mounting in 14k yellow gold, with three bands of diamonds- one with baguettes on the central cathedral arms flanking the 1ct-ish marquis center diamond, and two bands of round diamonds running below the cathedral arms to give the ring a look like it had two wedding bands joined to either side. It was well made and had weight to it, and all-in-all probably clocked in between 3-4 TDW. A comparable ring like that would probably easily be $10k+ retail in today's market.

So I tell him his dad did good, and he again gets super emotional- but manages to pull himself back enough to calculate the payments with his future wife. They figure out how to make it work, I ring them out and the ball starts rolling. They both shake my hand on the way out and he gives me one of the brightest smiles I can recall seeing anytime recently.

I should mention- his fiance had actually been a regular of the store before when she was married to another guy, who I found out after she left him was extremely abusive towards her. Every time they came in, his vibe was just rancid and everyone could pick up on it. I was happy to learn about her leaving him when she came in and asked me to help her clean up a bunch of jewelry that he had bought her (while cheating on her) so that she could sell it. I was happy to assist.

But, when she and this new dude first met a while later, I thought they weren't long for each other. She's a semi-professional Hispanic woman with 3 kids, and he is... again, a big retriever puppy. You would never picture these two together otherwise.

I see a lot of couples come in that I genuinely feel like are soul mates, or at the very least extremely compatible matches. I also have a lot of couples come in that aren't destined to be together long, and it's apparent within the first few minutes talking with them.

This time though, I have seldom ever been so glad to admit that I was wrong. By any rational measure of thought these two meeting shouldn't have happened, let alone falling for each other and discovering that they work extremely well together. All they want to do is spoil each other, and you can see the love in their eyes when they're talking with one another.

God brings people together through the strangest and craziest of circumstances in a way they never could have facilitated on their own, to form something greater than they ever could make by themselves.

The more I get to see the fruits of that in person, the more I consider myself blessed to have been brought by God to where I am now, to be in a place where I can help people take their miracle and run with it into the sunset.

I don't know if I'll do this job forever. But in the meantime, it sure is good.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 17] || [Chapter 19]

Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Soap is cute.

Chapter 18: Picnic

It’s 11 A.M. on Sunday when you wake up to your phone ringing. Normally you wouldn’t sleep in so late, but it’s a Sunday and you’ve got no plans, so you’re tucked into bed, lightly dozing off and feeling comfortable.

You roll over and hiss at the cold sheets next to you before you grab your phone from the charger and take it to your ear without looking at the Caller ID.

Clearing your throat, you greet a rough: “Hello…?” and rub your eyes. 

“Oh, someone’s sleepy, huh?” Johnny asks from the other end. “Did I wake ye, sweetheart?” He asks you, amused.

“Yeah… What time is it..?” You ask as you roll back to the warm side of your bed.

“11 A.M..” He tells you with a chuckle. “I’m bored and alone… You mind if I come over?” He asks you.

“Sure…” You reply softly. “Just give me like… 20 minutes to get ready…” You tell him,

“About that…” Johnny replies and then you hear your doorbell ringing through your flat. “I’m downstairs.” He chuckles on the other end of the line.

“Johnny!” You groan. “You can’t show up unannounced like this! The flat’s a mess and I’m not dressed! I need to shower ans all…” You trail off.

“It’s not ‘unannounced’, I called you to announce myself!” He replies and, by the tone of his voice, you know he has a smile on his lips. 

“Besides, I don’t mind if you shower… Hell, I’ll join ye.” He says with a mischievous chuckle. “Get you all lathered up in the shower, soapy skin and all, hm?” He continues.

“You know what?” You say as you snuggle into the blankets. “No.” You say directly. “You’re going to stay down there while I get ready.” You tell him.

“Wha-?” He asks in surprise with a gasp. “But… It’s pishin’ out here.” He tells you.

You turn to look out your bedroom window and sigh at the sight of the cloudy grey skies and rain hitting the panes.

“Well, tough luck! I’m not dressed so I’m not letting you in yet.” You reply. “Hope you’ve got an umbrella.”

“I’ve brought food, mo leannan, it’s going to get cold!” He announces.

“Goddamn you.” You grumble as you toss back the blankets and get up, rushing across the flat to buzz him in at the intercom.

“Thanks!” He adds as he hangs up the call. 

-

“You know, most people would say thank you for getting to have warm food picked up by their boyfriend and spend an afternoon being lazy and having a picnic in the living room.” Soap quips and nudges you with his elbow while watching you eat the soft shell taco he bought you.

You’re sitting on the floor across from each other, using the coffee table to hold your meal and drinks. You’ve noticed that you barely use your actual dining table for what it’s designed… Especially since the boys entered your life.

Johnny sits across from you wearing a pair of navy joggers that cling onto his bulky thighs way too much, and a grey Henley shirt that clings to every muscle of his arms and torso and leaves his collarbone exposed, since the buttons aren't done up.

“Excuse me?” You retort. “A) You’re not my boyfriend,” You begin to say as Soap quips “Yet.” halfway through, which causes you to shoot him a look for interrupting you.

“And B) You didn’t give me time to get ready. I need a shower…” You grumble, to which he, also, has a reply ready. “Ye can shower after. We can even have a nice bath together.” You shoot him another dirty look.

He knows that you’ve noticed that he thinks with his lower head more often than not… And the way he’s smiling at you, all impish and mischievous makes you roll your eyes.

“And C) this hardly counts as a picnic!” You finish as you finish your taco and reach to grab a new one from the box.

“I disagree. It’s food you can eat with your hands and you’re sitting on a blanket on the floor.” He replies. “That’s a picnic.”

“Is not, a picnic is meant to be had in nature.” You retort as you take a bite of your new taco.

“Oh? You’d rather be out there in the pouring rain to make your point?” He retorts with a playful smug on his lips as he points out the window.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “No.” 

“Then it’s a picnic.” He retorts. “And my point still stands that you shouldn’t complain so much.” He adds.

“You’re impossible, Johnny.” You tell him.

He smirks at you and continues eating, his blue eyes watching you closely as you eat the meal he’s bought you, a soft smile on your lips despite the fact you’re a bit annoyed at him.

“Ye know…” He says as he reaches for his can of Coke and takes a sip. “Ye make Simon and Kyle really happy.” He tells you.

Your eyebrows rise as you keep chewing your food. “I do?”

“Aye.” He replies as he leans his elbow on his knee to keep looking at you. “Simon doesn’t talk much about it, but I see it in the way he looks at you. The way he touches ye. Never ever seen the L.T. be so gentle with anyone.” He explains.

“And Kyle… He’s usually upbeat and all but he’s more… well… unbothered, ye ken? Doesn’t fuss about things, always relaxed, chill.” He continues. “Haven’t seen him smile as much as he does as when he bounces up from his chair at the end of the day and rushes out to go pick ye up.” He admits.

Your eyes soften a bit and you find your whole face getting hot as you hear him so you shovel the rest of your taco in your mouth so you can’t say something embarrassing.

“And, to be honest, I get it.” He replies. “I see the way ye light up when you see them…” He admits. “Ye’re so bonnie when ye’re smiling… And yer jokes and banter just put a smile on my face too…” He trails off.

Swallowing your food, you take a greedy gulp of your own soda to try and process what you want to say and you just end up blurting out a soft “I’m just me…”

“And ye’re great.” He replies and smiles as he goes back to eating his food, as if he hadn’t just said something so… sweet and deep.

The rest of the meal is spent talking about other things, less important, less deep things. You look at him with interest and intrigue, as if trying to figure him out, as you two talk about inconsequential things and make banter.

He shows you a couple of his art pieces on his phone, causing you to coo at them, especially a page he’s been working on that’s just got little portraits of everyone he works with. Ghost, Gaz, John… But also some other people he introduces to you. An ‘Alejandro’, a ‘Rudy’, a ‘Nik’, an ‘Alex’... And a ‘Farah’ and a ‘Laswell’. 

You come to realize that he’s… interesting, fun, easy to talk to, silly... Despite how stupid and silly and boring his profile on Tinder made him out to be… Soap’s… great.

Once the meal is done, you tidy up the living room a bit. He takes the trash to the bin, while you fix the pillows and blankets and run the roomba over the kitchen and living room… And, once you’re done, you turn to look at him while you both stand by the couch.

Biting your lip, you look up at him. “So… about that bath?” You whisper.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket