#he wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat halfway through her front door.

[syoddeye]

thinking about soap finding employment as a postie after being medically discharged. it's solid work. respectable. keeps him focused and active. he really takes to it. it doesn't hurt that his route feels like window-shopping.

[awhhayden]

GOD BLESS YOUR DADS GENETICS ⋆˚࿔ [PT.1]

CONTAINS : [ fem!reader x dilf!james x son!sam ]

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone cheating, this is fictional and all characters are 18+ [ NO INCEST ]

꩜.ᐟ You had been dating Sam kelly for six months now. You were always over at his house lounging around in your tiny pjs and skirts. Sam lived with his father James kelly, Sam’s mother left when Sam was very young. James had always enjoyed teasing you and poking fun at Sam. You couldn’t help but enjoy both of their companies…

꩜.ᐟ Sam Kelly, who’s house you have practically lived at for the past Six months, who would give you soft kisses in bed, and would rub your back until you fell asleep. Sam Kelly who would show you his favorite comic books and let you play Taylor Swift as loud as you wanted on his brand new stereo set.

꩜.ᐟ James Kelly, who’d wake you and Sam up with pancakes and bacon, who’d carry you upstairs to Sam’s room after you fell asleep on the couch whilst Sam was at work. James Kelly who’d let you pick out a cheesy romance on movie night and act like he wasn’t interested but was secretly invested, James who’d roll his eyes and smile and hand you his credit card to go grocery shopping for the house.

꩜.ᐟ Tonight you lounge on their couch, Your legs dangling off the edge as you lay your head in Sam’s lap, Sam munched on a bag of chips whilst you both watched the TV, Suddenly the front door clicked open and James walked around the corner into the living room and tickled your feet, you yelped and snatched your legs up “James!” you squealed, he laughed his deep hearty laugh and wiped his dirty hands on his work jeans “I ordered pizza kiddos” he said. James always ordered you guys pizzas on Fridays, “Sausage?” Sam asked rasing his eyebrow, “You know it” James winked his eye.

30 minutes later the three of you were sat in the living room, Pizza and soda in hand scrolling on Netflix. “Oh! can we watch That one?” you asked excitedly pointing to yet another Romance movie. “What?! No! you picked last week!” Sam objected. You gave him a pouty look. James cleared his throat, “How about this one? we will meet in the middle” James suggested. “Fine by me” Sam shrugged, you nodded.

Torwards the end of the movie you were dozing off, Sam got up from the couch “I’m gonna go smoke real quick” he leaned down and pecked your forehead before walking out the back door. You snuggled into the arm of the couch sleepily. James sat in the recliner sipping his beer, eyes on the TV screen. You yawn and stretch, James glances over at you and laughs “Tired Princess?” he asks raising an eyebrow. You stand up “Yeah Yeah,” you wave him off as you head up the stairs “Goodnight James” you yawn once more, He looks up the stairs “Goodnight sweetheart” he calls after you.

꩜.ᐟ late in the night James woke up. He yawned and stretched before standing up and stepping into his slippers. He rubbed his eyes before lazily walking out into the hallway and towards the bathroom. Halfway through the hall he stopped dead in his tracks. Was that?…he thought to himself. “Oh Sam mhm” he heard you moan quietly yet softly. James took a step forward to Sam’s bedroom door.

the bed was creaking slightly. Your soft moans and whimpers could hardly be heard, but James heard them. His face reddened and he took a step back. His palms were sweating and for the first time in a long time, James Kelly was flustered. He hurried to the bathroom and quietly shut the door. It wasn’t enough. Your soft moans could still be heard. James leaned forward palms on the sink trying to ignore the betrayal in his pants. He looked in the mirror and saw his flushed expression. He splashed some cold water on his face.

James’s mind was racing he flipped the seat down and sat down on the toilet. The growing tent in his pants was obvious and he groaned. James hesitated before he reached his hand down in his pants. He wouldn’t be able to sleep like this. He leaned his head back and palmed himself. Another moan could be heard from behind the wall and James sighed as he stroked himself again.

Before he knew it he was stroking himself in time with your moans. Faster and faster. He imagined your pretty face, your soft skin, your concentrated face as you chased your high. He imagined it was him on top of you with you withering and moaning beneath him. It only took a few more strokes before James quietly groaned as he released himself onto his stomach.

as he cleaned himself up your moans had stopped and he assumed you guys had finished. He splashed some cold water in his face once more and looked at his reflection ‘what the hell is wrong with me?’ he thought in shame and disgust. You were his son’s girlfriend for crying out loud. You were 20+ years younger than him. You were to soft. Too sweet and innocent for someone like him.

꩜.ᐟ the next morning you awoke to the smell of pancakes and the bed next to you empty, You scurried out of bed and hopped down the stairs. “Hmm yummy” you commented as you walked into the kitchen. Sam was at the table eating a plate, “Sammy, why didn’t you wake me up?” you pouted at him. He grinned “I know better than to wake sleeping beauty” he teased. James was at the stove flipping pancakes.

He quickly plopped them down onto a plate before turning around and handing it to you without a word. His expression was something you couldn’t place. You took the plate before walking past him to the butter and syrup. Your shoulder brushed his arm and he quickly stepped back and cleared his throat, “I..um- I’ve got to get to work. See you later Sammy” James said patting Sam’s shoulder before walking out the door without another word. You arched a brow “What’s up with him?” you asked Sam as you poured syrup on your plate. Sam shrugged “I guess he didn’t sleep well” he said taking another bite.

and indeed he didn’t….

ahh kinda nervous about this series! not sure where it’s going yet but let me know what team ur on so far…

TAGLIST: @anakinstwinklebunny @fredswrite @divineani @speaknow-sw @nikiloveshayden @haydensheartt

ask to join!! <3

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 17: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost @yournowheregirl

It's weird, how trauma works. Eddie has become quite familiar with this since the spring break from hell. Like how he can have days he doesn't even think about it, no nightmares, nothing, but then the next day he can't even get out of bed because of it.

Days where he wakes up in a cold sweat, the feeling of bats still digging into him, others he just gets to wake up to see his sweet boyfriend's sleeping face.

There are triggers he doesn't even think about compared to the ones he can avoid. He knows that flickering lights and dogs at night will leave him reeling. He didn't expect to have the air swept out of him in the middle of a grocery store though.

He and Steve had gone to get ingredients to make Wayne his favourite dinner for his birthday. Today had even been a good day, woken up by soft kisses and a cup of coffee.

They were halfway through their shop, Steve had realised he forgot flour and had popped back a couple aisles leaving Eddie to get the pasta. Two kids had rushed past him, only about ten or so years old.

"Eddie!" One of them had screamed, chasing after the other. But Eddie didn't hear a young child, innocently running through the grocery store. Instead he could hear Dustin, cold air surrounding him, bats screeching. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. Dustin, Dustin was calling him and he couldn't help him, he was dying.

"Eddie?"

If Vecna ever returned let it be known no song could save him more than that voice.

"Stevie?" He choked out, he felt a hand gently take his, fingers soothing over his knuckles instead of bites.

The air was warmer, lights bright and white overhead instead of red lightning.

"You looked a little lost up there," Steve said tilting his head up to Eddie's own.

"Just for a minute, you found me though."

"Always will, Eds."

[marvelandhobbit]

Fili x reader - "Through the Fire and Ice"

Warnings: Fluff, whump, sickness, *incorrect medical intervention

*Note from a nursing student (aka me😉): Ice baths are not good for fevers! They can cause hypothermia from the body losing heat too fast, shivering which can increase body temperature, and they are not always effective. I only used it as part of the storyline.

______________________________________________________________

Fili lifts his head up from his work. He leans back in his chair trying to look back into your shared bedchambers. You had woken up with the flu and had vomited multiple times throughout the night before. Fili didn’t want to leave your side but had piles of paper to sign, so he had them brought from his office into your adjoining drawing room. He was about halfway through the stack when he heard you coughing and blowing your nose again, signaling to him that you were awake. 

“Amralime?” Fili calls out. He waits a moment.

“Amralime?” He gets up from his chair and heads into your bedchambers when you don’t respond.

When he reaches the door way he realizes you aren’t in bed anymore. In fact, you are no where to be seen.

“Y/n?”

He walks around to your side of the bed and almost steps on you. 

“Y/n, what on Middle Earth are you doing down there?”

“Cooler than bed,” you mumble.

Fili kneels down and places a hand on your forehead.

“You are burning up!”

“Hmm….”

“Come on, let’s get you back into bed. I’m going to get Óin, stay there.”

“Don’t let the spiders get you, there’s one behind you!” You call out, suddenly sitting up in bed. This makes you nauseous and Fili rushes back to your bedside and lays you back down. Once he makes sure you’ll be okay for a few minutes, he races downstairs weaving in and out of the other dwarves, until he reaches the throne room 

“Óin?!” Fili calls out over and over until he finally finds him next to his uncle.

“Fili? What’s going on?” Thorin asks, noticing how frantic Fili looks.

“It’s Y/n, she’s burning up and she’s delirious.”

“Alright lad, let’s go take a look at her,” Óin starts immediately walking towards your bedchambers.

When they reach your bed, you are tossing around in your bed and visibly sweating. Fili races to the other side of the bed and grabs your hand. Óin grabs your other hand taking your pulse and places his other hand on your forehead.

“You did the right thing lad.”

“Is she going to be alright?”

“I’m sure of it, we just have to cool her down first. Does she have a thinner dress or something more lightweight?”

“I have a lightweight night shirt.”

“Go grab that and help me put it on her.” Óin turns to Thorin who is hanging back near the doorway, “I need ice and lots of it.”

Thorin nods and runs out of the room as fast as he can.

“We need to get her into the bathtub.”

Thorin and several others return with multiple buckets of ice.

You’re in the bathtub that has been filled halfway with cold water. Fili is sitting behind you braiding your hair so that it doesn’t get wet. It’s also a distraction for him from what is happening. Once the ice is in the tub, you start cooling down almost immediately. Everyone sighs in relief.

Fili carries you back to your bed and lays beside you on his side.

“Let me know if she becomes feverish again or if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Óin.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Óin motions to Thorin to step out of the bedchamber and closes the doors.

It’s a few more hours before you wake up again, but when you do you feel better especially seeing Fili reading a book by your side.

“Fili?”

“Amralime, you worried me sick! I was so scared.”

“You know I’ll never leave you, you’re stuck with me forever,” you tease him.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[rabbitsmoothie]

Hi smoothie, can I ask some Luffy and Zoro fluffy headcanons? Can be just platonic! Have a nice day

Of course you can!

I had a lot of fun writing these, but I realized that about halfway through, they kind of stop being fluffy and become general headcanons. I hope they're still okay for you! If you'd rather something else just send another ask (maybe with a more specific prompt if you had something in mind), and I'll do my best.

You have a nice day as well!

LUFFY

I have a hard time imagining Luffy in a romantic relationship, so most headcanons I have for him are meant to be taken either platonically or romantically, including ones that involve sharing a bed. Luffy wouldn’t have any problem sharing a bed with someone and would probably sleep beside an enemy if he had to. 

Either kicks like a horse in his sleep or wraps around you like a koala. There’s no in between. Something about Luffy makes me think he runs warm, so he’s like your own personal space heater. Great in the cold, awful when it’s hot. 

He’s the big spoon and will not be swayed. He loves to feel you pressed up against his chest. It makes him feel like he’s protecting you. 

Personal space? Who’s that?

If Luffy labels you his cuddle buddy you’d better be okay with him touching you all the time. He can reach just about anywhere on the ship with his stretchy arms. Nowhere is safe. Sometimes you’ll be talking to Usopp, and suddenly, a pair of arms are twined around your waist, and you’re being yoinked away to wherever Luffy is for an impromptu cuddle session. 

You can try to set boundaries, and Luffy will try his best to adhere to them–he really will. But he gets so excited when he sees you, even if you’re on the same ship, that he can’t help but wrap you up in a crushing hug and nuzzle his cheek against yours. 

Laughs in his sleep. Terrifying if you’re not expecting it.

Snores, but only when he lays on his back. Thankfully, he sleeps like the dead, so if the snoring bothers you, you can just roll him over and he won’t wake up. It’s probably easier than trying to wake him up, actually. 

Always smells a little bit like cooked meat. Even after bathing, the smell lingers on his skin. Whether it’s a good smell or a bad smell is up to you to decide.

When he gets really sleepy, his body goes extra rubbery and pliant, and you’re left with two options. Either let him sleep where he is (and accept your fate as his pillow). Or help him to bed, which is like trying to navigate a human-size, slightly melted rubber chicken. 

Whichever you choose, his big sleepy eyes looking up at you so softly after you kiss his forehead goodnight makes it all worth it.

ZORO

Unlike Luffy, Zoro would not share a bed with anyone who isn’t a romantic partner without a really good reason.

He struggles to sleep in complete quiet. It makes him antsy because he’s always listening for something. Silence means danger. The ambient sounds of the creaking ship or lull of the ocean help but aren’t as good as people talking nearby. If he can hear everyone talking and laughing, that means they’re safe and he can relax. That’s why he sleeps so much during the day while everyone else is active.

If you share a bed with him, he likes it if you talk to him for a while. The sound of your voice so close soothes him and helps him sleep.

Likes to be facing you while you sleep. He likes the intimacy of it, and he can easily see if you’re alright when he inevitably wakes up in the middle of the night.

Secretly likes getting flowers. He’ll kick up a fuss about you giving him something so “girly”, but his face will be all pink, and he’ll keep them until they wither. Make him a flower crown while he sleeps with his head in your lap. He’ll wake up as soon as you put it on his head, and the look he’ll give you is so soft. The thought that you wanted to make someone like him look pretty means more to him than he thought it would.

Stinky. Less of a headcanon and more of a hard fact. Zoro smells like sweat 95% of the time, and alcohol 4%. The 1% of the time he finally gets around to bathing, he smells nice, though. He definitely doesn’t wear any sort of fragrance, but he smells clean and like whatever soap he uses. Something simple and earthy.

Severely dyslexic. Struggles to read and goes more by the memory of what words look like than actually reading the words themselves, which makes printed words easier for him to decipher than an individual’s handwriting. Right and left mean next to nothing to him, which is part of the reason he gets lost so easily.

His scars get tight and ache when the weather is bad, especially the one on his face, leading to a lot of headaches, which make him extra irritable. You can always tell when the weather is going to turn because he starts massaging his face and picking at the scar on his chest.

If you’re in a relationship, know that he really wants to hold your hand, but he’s a bashful, awkward goober, and bad at feelings. Please have mercy on him and take his hand first, or hook his pinky finger with yours. His shoulders will visibly relax.

I hope you enjoyed your headcanons, Anon!

My requests are open! Check my pinned post for rules~♡

[secret-third-thing]

@erisweek2023 Day 1: Family

Rated T - Implied Abuse; Potentially Triggering Images | Words: 2k

Read on AO3 or on Tumblr below the cut

"When you've finally overthrown me... when your ambitions bloom, and all your schemes are fulfilled, What will you do then, Eris?"

Summary: After many restless nights, Eris has a difficult conversation with his mother.

A/N: This is a tough one, folks. Please take care of yourselves.

"When you've finally overthrown me... when your ambitions bloom, and all your schemes are fulfilled, What will you do then, Eris?"

--

Most nights, Eris wakes up in a cold sweat, body twisted in silken sheets stained with fear. For a moment, he cannot breathe, and his hands grasp his throat, intending to claw away at the skin there until he can feel the cool night air of Autumn. He chokes on the darkness, the deep despair that lingers within him until his lungs remember how to breathe and his chest heaves with relief.

Tonight, he reminds himself his father is dead - the severed head of the former high lord hoisted and burned on a massive pyre, the body laid waste and tossed into the sea. Beron would never appear again, ire brandished like a red-hot sword poised to strike. Eris had made sure of that.

Yet, his father's final words echoed in his head as he slipped from the bed, hair tusled with restless sleep. Eris didn't dare catch his reflection in the bathroom, instead cupping the water of a running facet in his hands, watching the liquid leak from the cracks in his fingers as he prepared to splash the cooling liquid onto his face.

He was safe, and yet…

In the days leading to his coronation, sometimes in the middle of holding court, Eris' mind would twist and would see the sneering grin of his father in the crowds of commoners. The former high lord's head cocked to the side in false curiosity at his son finally playing leader. With him gone, would Eris finally craft Autumn to fit a new vision?

Wrapping a cotton robe around him, Eris steps out into the private balcony of his bedroom. The night air curls around him, and he relishes how it feels against his heated skin. It was halfway to winter, and soon, it would be too cold to set foot outside without a wool coat.

In the distance, he can see the Forest House guards make their rounds through the estate, paths weaving in and out of the trees, through the gardens, and up the main entry. Eris had stationed them there, just in case his father's sympathizers bore ash and iron to cross him. So far, however, his imminent reign is met with ambivalence. Eris knows that, like his father, he is a near indomitable force. He feels all of Autumn, the frenetic life of the fauna, the aching of the rot in the woods, the thrumming of all the magic his court possessed.

As he watches the trees shift from the nighttime breeze, he sees a head of red hair walk to the gardens, flames entangled in her hand. She opens the gates and settles herself on a bench. Unusual at this hour.

Eris slips on his shoes and wanders into the empty hallways of the Forest House, eyes darting to every shadow as he makes his way to the entrance. Very rarely did Eris seek out his mother. Only under her gaze did the guilt and shame begin to eat away at him. He remembered the first time he had lied. Or the first time he had hurt his brothers. He recalled the disappointment in her face. The way the corners of her mouth turned ever so slightly down when she realized that despite all the love and care she showed, Beron had won.

Sometimes, Eris swore his mother wore that expression when she knew he was the only one looking at her. How exhausted she seemed. Her sons, the lights of her life, burning so violently under their father's gaze that they could only consume the world around them.

These days, Eris felt like he was going to burn out of control. Beron had been ruthless, his schemes unending. It had been challenging to keep up with what was running through his father's mind. So much so that Eris wondered if it would be worth being high lord at all. Could Autumn be salvaged? Was it even worth it? His father's legacy of cruelty was planted in every corner. Eris wasn't sure he would be able to uproot it, being born of that pain himself.

When he reaches the garden, he is startled by the vision of his mother lounging on the bench, head leaning back, eyes closed, and face relaxed. She is wrapped in a worn robe, her legs thrown over the arm of the bench, shoes dangling from her feet. In this moment, he remembers she is not much older than him. With her eyes still closed, she addresses him.

"It is not often my eldest comes to me," she says. She tilts her head and opens her eyes just enough to see him standing there. It makes him feel small. They both know he avoids being alone with her, the burden of his shame always laid bare before her.

"You're up late," he counters, voice sharper than he intends. His hands slide into his pockets, a habit that he picked up as a child. He worries she remembers this, too.

"I'm enjoying the quiet," she finally says. Eris can read between the lines, can sense the ease with which she speaks, her taking solace in her husband's demise. His mother pulls herself up and sits cross-legged on the wooden bench. She pats the wood next to her.

"Come, sit."

Eris finds himself obeying, sitting next to her, staring back at Forest House. He can see the many rooms, mostly dark save for a few late-night readers or schemers who dared defy the night.

"Today is a big day," she says when he sits in silence. She faces him, smiling, soft and genuine, face framed by her unbound hair, just as brilliantly red as his own. "Are you excited for the coronation?" The way she says it, the tone of her voice, and the melody it carries make him feel young again. He recalls how, long before his other brothers were born, he would tug at her skirts until she lifted him onto her lap, and they watched the fae working the gardens around the home, how she would sing him to sleep when he wouldn't rest alone in his room.

"Relieved," Eris simply replies, ignoring the churning of his stomach.

"I am, too." she says. They sit in comfortable silence for a while until Eris can feel his chest tighten, can feel his lungs seize. He swears he can see his father standing on a balcony watching them both, waiting until-

"Care for a drink?" she says to him suddenly, resting a hand on his shoulder, drawing him back into reality. Now he is back in the garden, alone with his mother. No remnant of his father to be found. The light of her faefire flickers, and she rubs her thumb against him in circles.

"At this hour?" he asks. She laughs at this, her hand pulling away from him to cover her mouth as she tosses her head back. When her laughter subsides, she smiles.

"Whiskey would be good, but I meant to help you sleep."

"I never said I couldn't sleep."

"You never slept well, even as a child," she counters.

Carefully untangling her legs, she stands, holding out a hand. He stands in turn and allows her to wrap her arm around his as he escorts her back inside.

Their walk to the kitchen is long. His mother winds through Forest House, leading him down halls, through rooms he nearly had forgotten existed, past portraits of relatives whose names he never learned. His mother's world is so different from his, yet they had coexisted this whole time. How much had he missed of his mother by serving his father?

In the kitchen, she finally withdraws her arm, giving him a gentle squeeze with her hand, and walks to a cupboard. She seems to float like a ghost, robe dusting the floor. In the dim faelight, the dark circles of her eyes are pronounced, her face thin and angular. She looks so frail, the widow of the high lord. During the day, she wears gowns the color of ash that wash her out, making her into a living corpse. As far as Eris knows, she has shed no tears for her loss.

His mother turns and gestures for him to sit at the table in the corner. She takes her time pulling a clay mug from the cupboard, placing it reverently on the counter. She flits to where the milk is stored and pours a generous amount.

"Why are you here still?" Eris asks, watching her pull a honey wand from the jar and drizzle it over the milk.

"Here?" she asked, brows furrowed as she maneuvers the wand back into the jar without making a mess of the counter. She places the honey back and searches for spices.

"In Autumn. Why aren't you in Day by now?" he clarifies. She knows what he's talking about. Eris watches her closely now, noting the way her eyes widen just so slightly, how her mouth twitches in denial, how she can't look him in the eye.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" She heats the mug with her hands.

"We all know, Mother," he says too calmly. The rumor of her affair was the worst kept secret in their family.

Eris had found out when Lucien was not much older than an infant. He had brought his younger brother to the Kennels to pet his dogs when his Lucien had glowed, a flickering beacon of hope in the dim rot of Autumn. And Eris had crushed it, startled Lucien into crying, and carried the wailing child to his mother. Eris had seethed, had never been so angry at her before. He warned her, accused her of betrayal. How could she have found such joy in abandoning the rest of them?

His mother stops heating the mug with her hands and sets it down before the milk can curdle. Her mouth is pursed as though the unspoken agreement to never mention her infidelity again is still meant to be honored. Eris only complied for her sake.

"You all are my children," she says. When she finally dares to meet his stare, he sees the fire that burns within her, the same that burns in him, in Lucien. "I don't know why you seem to forget that."

"What did you ever do when he hurt us?" he spits out. He's gripping the chair until his knuckles are white.

"You have no idea what I've been through, Eris. I did the best I could." Her flushed face twists into a frown. She's right, but he does have an inkling of what she went through and the scars to prove it. His mother has seen them, saw when he earned them. Did nothing to soothe him. But he drops the subject and gives a long, defeated sigh. He is tired, and it's early in the morning.

Sensing the shift, his mother finally hands the mug to him, and he takes it—a peace offering.

"I love you," she says, barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," he says. He sips the drink and savors how the warmth of it seeps into him, the closest thing to a hug he's had in centuries.

"Are you happy now?" she asks him, choosing her words carefully. He hates how he makes her nervous like he's a monster too.

"Yes," he lies. She nods, knowing. She leans over the counter, eyes bright and a rueful smile upon her lips.

"I am here for you," she says. A lie, Eris is sure. "You are going to do great things. Don't let the memory of him stop you." She gives that feeble half-grin he has come to loathe. Her wise words are lost on him.

"Good night, Mother," Eris says. He returns the mug to her and walks back to his room, steps echoing in the silent gulf between them.

His mother stays for his coronation. She leaves the next day.

--

Notes:

Phew - that was hard to write. I'm a DV survivor and so is my mother. The conversations we had after the abuse had ended were very, very difficult, and this fic was inspired by that. I'd like to think that even though this piece ended on a sad note, what happened is the first step to longer journey of much-needed healing. My mother and I took years to be able to talk about what happened. I suspect Eris and the LoA would need the same time and space. As always, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think and be sure to check out the rest of the @erisweek2023 fics. <3

[elidoesntbreathwee]

giving steddie their rain kiss cuz they deserve it :D

It had been about a year since Vecna; since Steve and Eddie had met, since Eddie almost died. While Eddie and Max were in the hospital, Steve came almost every day, first checking up on Max, and saying hi to Lucas (who also came every day), then he would go to Eddie's room. Luckly for Steve, their rooms were very close.

Steve hadn't known Eddie for long at this point, it had only been a few months since they met, but they'd become so close in the short time that they had known each other. Maybe that's why Steve was there every day, maybe it was for a different reason entirely. All that mattered was that Steve would be there when Eddie woke up.

It took Eddie 3 months to wake up. It took Max 8 months. Steve was there for both of them when they woke up. Robin had also been with Steve when Eddie woke up, and after that, when Robin and Steve would hang out, there was a good chance that Eddie would be there too. The 3 went together most days to see Max. Eddie would read to her or play her favorite songs in the room while they were there since the doctors said that there might be a chance she could hear them.

Once Max woke up, the whole party spent a lot of time together. Dustin and Mike would tell her what went on at school while she was gone, Will told her about how they moved back to Hawkins (even though Joyce was VERY hesitant), and Lucas let her know some of the things that went on at the hospital. Everyone else listened as the boys recounted everything that had happed in those 8 months.

A lot happened in that time frame, but Steve couldn't help but focus on small things that a certain someone did and said. Steve couldn't stop thinking about Eddie. Even if it wasn't the biggest thought in his mind, Eddie was still always somewhere in his thoughts.

One night, about a week after the 1-year anniversary of Vecna (aka the 'earthquakes') and Steve and Eddie (and prolly the rest of the party) had been getting worse nightmares due to it being close to the time Vecna happened. Steve, Robin, and Eddie had been having sleepovers almost every night, because it helped all of them to know that they weren't alone when they inevitably woke up in the middle of the night, either in a cold sweat or screaming (or sometimes both). But one night, Robin was going over to Nancy's (wink wink) instead, which left Steve and Eddie by themselves in Steve's huge house (wink wi- imm sorry).

They weren't very awkward or anything, since they were friends, but they realized they hadn't hung out by with just the other in months. They took a bit to get used to it just being the 2 of them (things like say "hey Eddie" or "hey Steve" instead of 'you guys') and to decide what they wanted to do.

For a while they played Uno, then they got bored of it, so they put on a movie (Ferris Buller's Day Off, cuz i said so) and sat down next to each other on Steve's couch. If were being honest, neither of them were paying that much attention to the movie. Eddie got distracted by his thoughts and started messing with his rings and hair, and Steve got distracted by Eddie messing with his rings and hair.

You really can't blame Steve though, I mean, Eddie's the prettiest guy he'd ever seen, from his long, curly, dark brown hair to his pretty chocolate eyes, to his dimpled smile, his everything.

Steve hadn't realized he'd been staring for so long. Eddie was waving his hand in front of Steve's face, hope that he wouldn't start levitating soon.

"Steve? Steve, you here? Steve, what's wrong? STEVE!?"

"What? Huh? Did i miss something?" Steve's eye's moved around the room, forgetting that Eddie wasn't the only thing that exsisted

"Oh," Eddie sighed in relief. "Jesus H. Christ man, you scared me. I thought Vecna got you or something."

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you Eds" Steve looked over at the tv "Oh god, how long was i spacing out for? We're literally halfway through the movie and i only remember being 10 minutes in."

"Yeah, i don't know. I spaced out to."

"Do you wanna keep it on or find something different to watch?"

"Nah, keep it on. I know what happened while we were spaced out, it's fine." The two then turned back to the tv and focused for a really long time on it (aka 10 minutes) before Steve said,

"Y'Know, I kinda wish we could do this all the time, not just when it's nightmare season."

"Do what? Have sleepovers like we're 12 years old?" Eddie chuckled. "Honestly, me too."

"Yeah. If only, right."

"Mhm"

Then they sat through the rest of the movie. Weather they were paying attention is up to mystery, but the movie finished, and they were both still there, no broken bones.

After the movie, Steve let Eddie go shower, and made food while he was waiting. He made the food of Kings: pizza. Once Eddie got out, the two ate their pizza, then Steve got in the shower. By the time Steve got out it was 1:30 AM, so they both went into Steve's bedroom (there's a spare room, but the whole point of this is that they don't wake up alone. being in separate rooms wouldn't really make sense)

Usually Steve, Robin and Eddie all slept together in Steve's bed. Steve and Eddie on the sides, Robin in the middle, but Robin wasn't here tonight, she was probably snuggling up to Nancy (good for her, u go girl) so Steve and Eddie had to figure out how they were going to do things. Should one of them sleep on the floor? Should they lay like how they would normally, just with no one else in between them? Should they cuddle or spoon? Should they forget sleep in its entirety and stay up all night? Probably not that last one, but still, they didn't quite know what to do, so they just sat on Steve's king-sized bed (perfect for King Steve- not that he's that person anymore) and brought up possibilities of how they should sleep. They ended up sleeping how they would normally, just without Robin between them.

They feel asleep fairly quickly, both tired from the day's drama, but as expected, Eddie woke up after another nightmare. What Eddie wasn't expecting was to be cuddled up close to Steve. Steve had his arms wrapped around Eddie like he would never let go, Eddie's head close to Steve's chest, so close that he could hear Steve's heart beating. Eddie hadn't screamed when we woke up, just sweating and almost hyperventilating. Eddie had moved some to get closer to Steve, (which was kind of impossible since he and Steve were taking up only one person's space) which woke him up.

"Hey," Steve started sleepily, "You ok?"

"Just a nightmare, nothing unusual." Eddie said into Steve's chest.

"It's ok Eds, it's gonna be ok." Steve started rubbing circles on Eddie's back. "Just breath with me, mk"

"mk, thank you" Steve nodded. The two synced their breathing and soon fell back to sleep.

Neither of them woke up until the morning. It was 9:45 AM, and it was raining. Steve woke up before Eddie by 5 minutes, but he didn't get out of bed (mostly because he was still tangled up with Eddie) until Eddie woke up. He went downstairs to cook them breakfast, while Eddie packed up what little he had brought over.

The two ate breakfast, then it was (sadly) time for Eddie to leave. Steve didn't want him to leave, even though he knew he'd see him again that night, Robin would be there. He loves Robin to bits but he knew he would miss being alone with Eddie. If Eddie was going to leave, Steve just wished he could kiss him goodbye, like a housewife kissing her husband as he's off to work. There's no way Steve could ever do that, though, so as Eddie said goodbye and walked out Steve's front door, Steve felt like he wasn't complete, like a part of him had left with Eddie, even though he would see him again.

Steve wasn't usually impulsive, at all, but sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone.

Eddie had walked far enough that he couldn't clearly see Steve's house anymore through all the rain. He already missed Steve, even though they'd only been apart for a minute or two. He heard something faint in the distance, coming from behind him though.

"EDDIE! Eddie, wait up!!"

'Steve' Eddie immediately thought.

"STEVE?!"

Steve came running up to him, and hugged him tightly around the waist.

"Steve, oh my god, this might sound weird, but i really missed you even though its onl-"

Steve kissed him. On the sidewalk, in the rain. Eddie put his arms around Steve's neck and leaned into the kiss.

"Sorry, i just couldn't go any longer without doing that..." Steve said, breaking the kiss.

"I'm glad you did, because i wouldn't have had the guts to do it first" Eddie smiled, and kissed him again, this kiss lasting longer than the first.

"Well, you should get home, and i should go back inside before we get sick." Steve said, sad to have to stop kissing Eddie, but he'll see him again tonight. Even though Robin's going to be there, there are always closets.

That night, the tree of them went to Robin's house. Robin didn't have as big a bed as Steve, so they always had to squish so they could all lay on Robin's bed. Robin was usually in the middle here too. Really the only time she wasn't was when they stayed at Eddie's and one of them had to sleep in the floor (which they took turns doing). This time though, when the three were ready to go to bed, Eddie and Steve laid down next to each other.

Robin started asking questions (as she should) about what happened when she was at Nancy's.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Eddie said with a smirk, Steve cuddling up to him.

"Yeah, actually, I would." Robin replied, trying not to sound mad or anything (cuz she wasn't) but not too soft either.

"How about you tell us what happened with Nance and then maybe we'll tell you what went on with us" Steve said.

"Fine." Robin sighed. "Well, there wasn't much at the beginning, just normal stuff, i guess. Later when we were watching some boring movie, she put her head on my shoulder, and i may or may not have panicked and forgotten how to move. Then when the movie had like, 30 minutes left, she kissed me. Ok? You happy now?"

"Hmmmm, i donno, kinda boring." Eddie said, fake yawning.

"OH COME ON? THE TRUTH IS BORING, NOW TELL ME!!" Robin was loud, but not screaming, just really, REALLY loud.

"Chill, Rob, Im kidding." Eddie cleared his throat. "We watched a movie, spaced out, got ready for bed, ended up cuddling all night, we both had amazing sleep, we ate food, then i left."

"What. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Robin tried very hard to controll herself.

"No, that's what happened" Steve said

"WHA-" Robin was cut off by Steve

"But it's not *all* that happened" Steve smirked.

"Ok? So tell."

"After he left, I ran after him, in the rain, and we kissed" Steve looked at Eddie and smiled.

"So, we all kissed someone, and now I'm inviting Nancy to come over right now."

"What? Why?" Eddie looked confused

"I wanna cuddle with someone too" Robin thought that was obvious.

Nancy *did* come, and the four of them were very squished on Robin's bed, which was something she did not think through before inviting Nancy. The four made room, though, by snuggling very close, which worked out for all of them, because who doesn't wanna cuddle.

The four of them did this at least twice a week now, even when it wasn't 'nightmare season'.

THE END :)

this took me, like, four (4) days to write, so a like would be very appreciated, and hey, if you're feeling SUPER nice, a reblog would be absolutely wonderful :)

[dxndxlion]

Steve wasn’t surprised when the nightmares started coming back again, after going through everything all over again. He had hoped they wouldn’t, of course, but he knew that at this point it was inevitable. After the first time going through fighting Demodogs and watching the kids he cared about so much experience the aftermath of the Upside Down, he had expected it. He had expected to remember the way the sharp teeth of the bats biting into his side and how much it had hurt to resurface in his mind every time he looked down and saw the jagged, uneven, healed over scar marks that stood out like a sore thumb against his otherwise pale skin. He had expected to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat when the mental images of Max and Nancy levitating mid air with their eyes rolled back and their bodies limp and unmoving plagued his unconsciousness mind, with the way the feelings of hopelessness and stomach churning anxiety felt heightened times ten in those moments.

He had expected himself to be on edge and jumping at any noise that even somewhat resembled the sound of that godforsaken clock when the object had gone off around him, the sound always reminding him of the constant ‘what if I’m next?’ that had consumed his thoughts during Vecna, always expecting the worst. Of course, logically, he knew that it was impossible– they had defeated Vecna once and for all, they had all watched it happen with their own eyes, but it still didn’t change a thing for him. And Steve had hated it– had hated how his brain felt like it was constantly only halfway in the present with him, one half attached to his shoulders, and the other up and off in a cloud of mind numbing anxiety and fear, constantly awaiting the other non-existent foot to drop down.

He’s only told one person about these nightmares, and that’s Robin. She had been understanding with him, and had put up with her best friend’s random show ups at her house in the middle of the night, with his hands slightly trembling and his hair a mess from how he had ran his fingers through it in a fruitless attempt to calm himself down. Robin would pull Steve into her door and shut it behind him, only to pull the taller man into her arms and hold him for a few, letting Steve breathe shakily into her neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Steve would pretend that he didn’t feel the burning of tears tracking their way down his cheeks as Robin did so— pretend that he didn’t see those images playing in a constant loop behind his eyelids whenever they would fall shut. He would stay the night there afterwards more times than not, finding comfort in the shared experience that the two of them had.

But tonight, Steve couldn’t do that, because Robin was out of town for the weekend to visit some family, and so the brown haired boy was stuck at home, in his all too quiet house, the walls feeling enclosing and unwelcoming to him. The silence seemed to suffocate him with its complete absence of any sounds. No creaks or whines from the structure settling itself, or even just the soothing and repetitive sound of a fan.

It made Steve want to crawl out of his own skin.

He had tried falling back asleep already–had tried all of the bullshit methods he was taught from when he was younger, but none of them worked. His brain was running at a million miles per hour now, and he had himself adjusting his position in bed every two minutes out of discomfort, and it was starting to irritate him.

“Oh, fuck this,” Steve mumbles quietly to himself, throwing his blankets off to the side from his body in an almost perfect triangle, before pushing himself out of bed. He threw his legs over the side of his mattress, resting his elbows on his knees as he laid his head in his hands, running his fingers through his sleep mussed hair, before dragging his hands down across his face in frustration. He had stared at a spot on his floor for a few moments before he willed himself to get up, taking a quick glance at the clock beside his bed and groaning quietly at the glaring red numbers that read 2:30 A.M. back at him.

Once the man had gotten up, he had made his way over to his dresser to throw on the first pair of jeans and shirt that he found, already knowing what he had to do. He grabbed his car keys from on his bedside table, tucking them into his pocket. He made his way down the stairs to the front door carelessly, knowing it wouldn’t matter. Nobody was home, anyways. Nobody ever was. He made his way out, closing and locking the door behind him before he went down the porch stairs, unlocking his car with a press of the button on his keychain, and then getting inside, closing the drivers door afterwards with a quiet thunk. The brown haired boy rested his hands on the wheel in silence for a few, before putting the key into the ignition and pulling out of the driveway.

***

It took about twenty minutes for Steve to arrive at his destination, pulling up to the trailer and shutting his engine off, only for his eyebrows to furrow in confusion when he sees the way the windows of the trailer were glowing a fluorescent yellow, and the telltale signs of a TV being on coming through the glass. He lets out a small ‘huh,’ sound before opening the door to his car and shutting it quietly, locking it up with the press of a button once more, and slowly making his way the distance to Eddie’s front porch, opening the screen door and knocking on the wood behind it. It takes a few moments of Steve standing anxiously in front of the door, his foot tapping a beatless pattern onto the slightly cracked concrete beneath it, for the door to finally open.

Once it does, it exposes Eddie to Steve, his shirt discarded and his hair a mess, like he had just woken up. Steve raises an eyebrow in question, glancing at the man’s exposed torso for the briefest of moments, before looking back up.

“Harrington?” Eddie mumbles out, the man’s honey brown eyes still slightly fogged over with unconsciousness. Steve lets out a strained smile, knowing he probably doesn’t look any better.

“Yeah, hey Munson,” Steve starts off with, speaking once more before Eddie can say a hello back. “Sorry to show up so randomly this late, man- and I’m sorry if I woke you up,” He mumbles, running a hand through his unstyled hair and repressing the sudden need to tap his foot restlessly again.

“No you’re good, man, I was already up anyways,” Eddie reassures with a small, short, closed lip smile. Steve nods, before going to speak once more.

“I was wondering if I could come in and smoke with you, because I have not been able to sleep for shit for the past few days, and I really need to get high,” Steve rushes out, refusing to admit to himself the way that he can feel his cheeks turning just the lightest shade of red in embarrassment.

He doesn’t know why exactly he was nervous– he had been high before, and it wasn’t like this was his first time asking, but he supposes it has to do with the fact that it’s Eddie fucking Munson he was asking. Sure, they had helped save the world together, had gone through all of the same shit, but he was still nervous.

“Yeah, of course, I was already rolling a joint for myself anyways,” He answers with, moving himself to the side enough for Steve to slide in through the door, with Eddie reaching over and closing both doors with a soft click before making his way over to the recliner that he had been sat on before Steve knocked.

He plops himself back down, before going to grab the joint and lighter. He watches from the sides of his eyes as Steve sits himself down on the couch, shooting the taller man a small smile before he places the joint between his index and middle finger, using his free hand to flick on the lighter. Eddie watches as the paper slowly lights and then burns out, leaving behind black, scorched paper, inhaling deeply and feeling an almost immediate sense of relief when the thick smoke places itself in his lungs. He holds it for a few seconds, mentally counting to five before he exhales, eyes tracing the way that the wisps of grayness dance around in the air before diminishing. He tosses the lighter back on to the small table in front of him before reaching over to his side and passing Steve the joint, the brown haired man nodding his thanks as he takes it.

Eddie watches as Steve brings it up to his own mouth and inhales, following the same steps that Eddie himself had just done moments before, and the curly haired man pretends like he isn’t glancing at Steve’s lips.

“Any reason why King Steve himself can’t sleep, oh mighty one?” Eddie asks, managing to keep on his overdramatic and fun front, despite the fact that he can obviously tell that something is bothering the other. Steve lets out a soft sigh in response, blowing out the smoke.

He sits there in silence for a little bit, eyes focused on nothing in particular as he mentally turns over whether he wants to tell Eddie or not. Logically, he knows he probably could– knows that Eddie of all people wouldn’t judge him for having nightmares, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling almost childish. Steve opens his mouth, like he was going to say something, but shuts it back closed almost immediately.

“You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to, man. I’m never gonna force you to say anything you don’t wanna,” Eddie reassures when he sees how hesitant the younger man is acting. Steve sighs, before he starts to talk once more.

“No, I know it’s just- I dunno, it seems stupid, I guess,” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders halfheartedly, running a hand through his hair once more. Eddie doesn’t say anything in response, only fixes Steve with a patient look, and the younger feels a sliver of thankfulness twirl from inside of his chest at the way that Eddie isn’t trying to rush it out of him.

Steve snatches the joint once more and takes a longer inhale, letting his eyes fall shut as he feels the smoke travel down the back of his throat, before pulling it away and holding, and then exhaling. He lets his body fall back against the back cushion of the couch, a heavy sigh falling from his lips as he focuses his eyes on the ceiling.

“It’s just that uhm- I’ve just been having…nightmares, is all. Of what happened, how it felt, how scared I was for everybody,” Steve says finally, his voice coming out as quiet and small, his fingertips tapping a made up rhythm on to his knee, his teeth coming to nibble on his bottom lip out of nervous habit.

He takes a moment to glance over at Eddie from where the curly haired man sits across from him nervously, though he feels the way the anxiety soothes itself the smallest bit when the only thing he sees in Eddie’s brown doe eyes is patience and understanding, judgment nowhere to be found. Steve sighs silently to himself.

“And it’s just…it’s the same moments just constantly like…it’s almost as if it’s a loop, if that makes any sense? Like the only things I ever remember are watching Nancy and Max levitating, and just how- how scared I was in those moments?” Steve says, noticing the fact that he’s rambling and unable to stop himself from doing so.

“And it’s so stupid because whenever I hear a sound that even barley resembles the goddamned clock, it’s like I’m back there, when he had-” Steve cuts himself off with a shaky breath, trembling hands running through his hair. He wasn’t willing to make himself relive that, no matter how badly he knew he had to talk to somebody about it. He exhales sharply, silently begging the weed to kick in far faster than it is.

“Cause it’s like, I know that it's not happening at that moment, because we literally watched him die, so it’s just…frustrating, I guess,” He finishes off, throwing his head back against the cushion of the sunken couch. He dares to take a glance at Eddie again, expecting him to respond to his ramble.

“I get it, Harrington– that’s what people call PTSD, I’m pretty sure. It’s usually something people form after going through like…a traumatic event, or something? I don’t know, dude. It’s something like that,” Eddie responds with, bringing his fingers from his left hand to fiddle and twist the large rings that line the curly haired man’s right hand.

Steve hadn’t been the only one to be going through this, Eddie wants to say. Wants to admit to the other man that he wasn’t alone in his experience with this shit, but doesn’t. He’s learnt not to open up about shit like that.

“Now that I think about it- why are you up, Munson?” Steve asks, turning his head and body to fully face Eddie’s form. Eddie feels himself go tense at the question, fingers freezing mid twist as he tries to desperately think of how to respond to the taller man.

He doesn't think quick enough, though, because before he can make up some stupid excuse, his brain is already a hundred steps ahead of him, and the only thing he stutters out is an ‘uhm,’ before everything comes rushing forward to the forefronts of his mind, no matter how much the curly haired man had tried to shove it down and not think about it. The image of Chrissy levitating in front of him with her blue eyes rolled so far back into her head that he could only see the whites of them. The deafening sound of bone after bone snapping and crunching from an unseen force echoing around every crevice of his brain tumultuously, the way her jaw had disconnected from its sockets, and then the loud, heavy thud of her dead body hitting the floor.

He doesn’t remember much after that, only the constant tightness of his windpipe, and the way he had been so on edge and paranoid. But the guilt– the guilt had not come until afterwards. When he was hidden underneath the tarp in the wheelbarrow of Reefer Rick’s boathouse, his hands shaking and his entire body trembling as he processed what he had just seen. He had tried to rationalize it, but soon fell short of any way to make it make sense to himself. And that was when he had felt the sudden feeling gnawing at the inside of his throat, a shaking hand coming to cover his mouth as his breathing picked up irregularly. His mind was moving too fast for him to keep up with it, the main thought plaguing his consciousness being: ‘Why didn’t I fucking help? Why did I just run away, like a goddamn coward?’

Then he remembers how terrified he had been when he had watched the small group of people he had grown to have some sort of bond with over the past few days look certain death straight in the face with barely any qualms and hesitation, like they had done it so many times before then. Eddie supposes that they actually had, though, and he envied them. He envied them for the fact that they could be so fearless and selfless, while the only thing Eddie had done his whole life was run away in cowardice. First with his family, his parents, and now this.

Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s zoning out until he hears Steve’s voice filter in through his ears, whipping his head to the side to look at him. Steve looks wary and cautious, and Eddie curses himself internally for it.

“Hey, Munson, you with me?” Steve asks when they make eye contact and Eddie nods tensely.

“Yeah, sorry- Happens when I’m high sometimes, s’all,” Edie says, and he hates the way he knows Steve doesn’t believe him. Curse him and his perfect way of being able to read body language on others.

Steve fixes him with a silent look, keeping his eyes trained on Eddie’s face for a few moments before he forms his lips into a thin line, speaking once more.

“Look man, I’m not the type of person to force anything out of anyone, but I literally just spilt my guts to you, and you’ve got nothing,” Steve jokes out softly, tone light in an attempt to bring the mood up a little, a small smile tugging in the corners of his lips. Eddie lets out a quiet, barely there laugh. Steve still considers it a tiny victory.

“No, yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry dude,” Eddie sighs out, bringing his knees up to the recliner by putting his feet on the faux, peeling leather, resting his arms on top of his knees and starting to fidget with his rings once more. Steve can’t understand how that position could be comfortable– Eddie was basically folded in half with how far back he had pushed his heels inwards.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Steve assures. “And I want you to know that you only have to tell me if you’re chill with it,” He finishes.

“I’m not, but I know I have to talk about it to someone eventually,” He mumbles out quietly, mirroring Steve’s earlier thoughts almost perfectly, the only difference being that Eddie is actually talking about it. The curly haired man clears his throat quietly, making sure to keep his eyes anywhere but on Steve as he fidgets with anything he could.

“Eddie-”

“Steve, stop. I mean it. Before you make me regret spilling my deepest and darkest secret to you, Harrington,” Eddie jokes breathily, using Steve’s actual name for what felt like the first time to the younger man. He smiles a little when Steve puts his hands up in a wordless form of surrender, nodding.

“The same thing as you– just a little different. Still have flashbacks and shit back to whatever the hell it’s called- the Upside Down? And the whole thing with Chrissy, it’s just like, a lot sometimes? If that makes any sense,” He stumbles out messily, groaning quietly to himself in embarrassment.

“I take it back, I don’t wanna do this anymore– can we just get high off our asses now?” Eddie asks, tone half joking as the words fall from his mouth. His foot is starting to bounce again, the anxiety pooling inside of his chest making him restless. He wanted to continue talking about this; wanted to let Steve know that he wasn’t alone, and Eddie felt as if he at least owed him that.

He lets out a loud huff of air, tossing his head back to face the ceiling of the trailer, eyes landing unwantedly on to the blacked out crack that runs along the expanse of it, bringing a hand to run through his hair as he mentally hypes himself up to do this. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what had happened– not any of the people who he went through it with, or his uncle. He had kept it close to his chest, deciding to try his hardest to shove the unwanted feelings and intrusive thoughts so far down into his head that he would forget about them completely. He knew it wasn’t healthy to do to himself, but he had validated it by telling himself that it’s what he’s done his whole life, so what's the difference in doing it again? He inhales once more, before continuing, making sure to keep his eyes to the ceiling.

“And I don't know, I guess it just triggered something else inside my brain, after going through all that. I don’t really know how else to like…explain it. It just made some other unpleasant memories come to the surface is all, Harrington,” Eddie finishes, leaning down to grab at his pipe once more, lighting the plant and inhaling for longer than he would usually do, trying to shut off the flashes of images he had blocked out of his head as he did so, breathing out the smoke once more.

His mom, drunk out of her head and asking little Eddie for another beer, a fresh bruise decorating the side of her face as Eddie had nodded obliviously at her request.

His father, sick as all hell but still managing to get his sorry ass out of bed to yell and shout at Eddie and his mother, his hand swinging wildly at everything and nothing until it landed on something: Eddie, his mom.

And Eddie had hated her for the longest time as he grew a little older– old enough to understand what was happening to him at home wasn't normal. Old enough to fight back when he had to, old enough to finally confront his mom about why they hadn’t up and left his dad already. The only response he would get each time would be “Because he loves us, Eds– just in a different way.”

And Eddie had remembered the moment had been pulled out of that hellhole to come and move in with Wayne. He hadn’t been used to it at first– he was unfamiliar and snappy to him, was downright rude and disrespectful, but Wayne had been patient with him still. He had let himself fall victim to Eddie’s sometimes sporadic anger episodes, never once raising his hands or voice to the curly haired man. Eddie hadn’t been able to fully understand just how much Wayne had to go through with him when he was younger, not until recently but he was incredibly thankful for him. He had said it to him too, the other night, when he had trudged his way into their shitty trailer together, and they had just hugged for a few moments, before he made his way to their bathroom to shower.

Then Eddie was snapped back into the present by a gentle, light hand resting on his shoulder. He had snapped his head over to look at Steve, who was now standing next to him with a small, understanding smile. Eddie had let out an exhale of relief once he realized where he was again, passing the pipe over to Steve. He watches as the brown haired man takes another hit, holding it in for a few moments before letting it out.

Steve feels an annoying nag in his stomach at the fact that there’s nothing he can do to help Eddie, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth as he thinks over what to say in response. He takes his hand back to rest it on his hip as he taps against it mindlessly, trying to pull something out.

“Like I said, Eddie– I’m always gonna be there if you like, ever need to rant or something, man. But I’m never going to force you to say anything that you aren’t comfortable with saying, or… whatever,” He mumbles the last part to himself sheepishly, his hand coming to rub at the back of his neck nervously, looking everywhere in the trailer but Eddie’s eyes, until they meet.

“ ‘Or whatever,’ “ Eddie quotes back, using his fingers to quote Steve, changing the sound of his voice in a terrible impersonation. “Real articulately said, Harrington– Feel like I can trust you with everything now. What’s next, whether I like AC/DC or Metallica more?” He jokes, letting out a laugh when his response is met with a hard hit to his arm, and a grumbling Steve to follow behind it.

“I was trying to be nice to you, Munson!” He exclaims, faux annoyance oozing from his tone as he tries to play it off realistically. The small tilt from the corner of Steve’s lips betrays him and his act, though.

Eddie places the pipe and lighter back down on the table in front of him, pushing himself from the recliner to make his way over to his record collection on the other side of the room, shuffling through its continents, before letting out a small nose of triumph once he finds the one he was searching for. He puts it on, and Steve isn’t able to catch the band or album title,but he doesn’t really care much. He would be happy with anything that the older man decided to put on, just as long as he didn’t have to suffer through watching the frankly, absolutely terrifying look of blankness that had overcome Eddie’s otherwise expressive, brown eyes.

Steve had always heard that the eyes were the mirror to one's soul, and he couldn't think it could be more true than when it comes to Eddie Munson. Sure, the man was flamboyant and had a flair for the dramatic, (Steve had witnessed that himself first hand when Dustin had forced him to come to a Hellfire Club meeting at some point. Steve had been entertained, and the man hadn’t even known a thing that was going on in the game) but Steve could tell when the older was frightened or scared, just by the furrow of his brow. He could tell when he was getting excited over something just by a certain twinkle he got in his eyes before he launched into explaining what it was he was excited for.

So it had scared Steve shitless when he had suddenly seen them so devoid and empty, almost clouded overas Eddie’s mind wandered to places the younger of the two guessed to be less than pleasant. It had felt like a small jab of a needle to his heart when Eddie finally did come back to him, only for the doe eyes in front of him to be crowded with fear and anxiety.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s staring.

“You’re staring,” Eddie murmurs quietly out into the air between them, the two of them both standing only a small width apart from the other. His eyes are searching for Steve’s, and when they meet, Steve decidedly ignores the way his stomach feels as if it’s suddenly filled with a million butterflies angrily flapping their wings all together.

“Sorry Munson I-”

“No,”

Steve fixes him with a confused glance, cocking his head to the side.

“Eddie. My name is Eddie.” He says quietly, and Steve nods, though the reaction is delayed in the slightest.

“Right, I’m sorry Eddie, I didn’t mean to weird you out or anything it’s just that I- '' Steve starts, only to cut himself off before he says something weird, or creepy. I mean, how would you feel if one of your guy friends just casually dropped the fact that they were staring at your eyes?!

“You what?” He asks, gently.

“I was just… I was thinking, that’s all, I just kind of zoned off in my own head and-” He goes to say, only to get cut off by Eddie’s voice.

“God if you’re listening, please, please, don’t let me be reading this wrong,” Eddie mumbles out to himself quietly before he’s making his way across the living room in quick strides. Then he’s directly in front of Steve’s face, and Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t flushing with the distance.

“Steve, why were you staring? Be honest this time, you’re actually the absolute shittiest liar ever,” Eddie says, joking lightly. Steve huffs in annoyance.

“No I’m not,”

“No you really, really are,”

Steve glares at him, before bringing his eyes downwards, fingers tapping against himself once more, wherever they can reach.

“I just- you-” He inhales deeply.

“I was scared, I guess. You were like, gone like, you weren’t here anymore, and your eyes they-” He cuts himself off with a frustrated groan. He probably sounds so fucking weird. Curse Eddie fucking Munson.

“Your eyes were like– empty, I wanna say? Or clouded over? I don’t know how else to explain it. And it scared me, because you usually have really expressive eyes, and then they weren't anymore and it scared me because I thought ‘What if he came back? What if he isn’t actually dead, and he got Eddie?’ And it scared me shitless, man, I’m not gonna lie to you and-”

Steve’s nervous ramblings are cut off by a soft mouth over his own. He squeaks into the brief kiss before Eddie pulls away, and this close up, Steve can so obviously see traces of anxiety laying in the brown, honeyed depths of Eddie’s eyes. The younger blinks stupidly at the other.

“I had to shut your rambling up somehow, Harrington,” Eddie jokes.

“Steve. My name is Steve,” He says, mirroring Eddie’s words from earlier. That’s all he says before he’s pushing himself forward, both of his hands coming to cup each side of the curly haired boy’s face.

It’s Eddie’s turn to make a surprised noise, but he lets himself sink into the feeling of finally kissing Steve fucking Harrington. One of his own hands goes to rest at the side of Steve’s face, the other coming around to cup the back of his neck, holding him in place as they continue. He feels Steve laugh softly into the kiss, causing Eddie to pull back from it with a raised eyebrow.

“What could King Steve possibly be laughing about right now, oh mighty one?” Eddie says with a small smirk, awaiting a response.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just that– what the hell do you think my high school self would say if I told him that in like, two years, he’d be kissing Eddie “The Freak” Munson in his trailer after getting high with him?” He snorted out gently, causing Eddie to smile as well.

“He’d probably call the cops or something, let's be honest here,” Eddie supplied helpfully, and Steve nodded.

“Yes, hi, 911, there's a nutcase in front of my house right now. Please come and detain him,” He mocks his older self, laughing a bit more loudly. God, this feels surreal right now. He knows that he and Eddie are going to have to sit down tomorrow, when they’re both sober, and talk about it in depth. But for now, he thinks he can let himself just enjoy it.

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me, Harrington.”

And so he does.

fin.

[earlgreydream]

quiet.

| bucky x reader | fluff |

being saved by the winter soldier

“It’s just in here. I have a dog, her name is Lucy. She’s a little big, but she is very gentle. You don’t need to be afraid of her,” Bucky explained as you followed him up the stairs to his apartment.

You gave a slight nod and his lips turned up. He walked to a red door and put the key in, turning it as the lock clicked.

You’d been saved from a Hydra testing facility that the avengers infiltrated a few weeks ago. Bucky had found you, barely alive, deep in a lab. You’d been chained to an exam table, bruised and hollow.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’m going to get you out of here.” Bucky had promised.

You had been taken to Banner’s lab to recover, Bucky staying with you the entire time. It was like a private hospital, and Banner and his staff took incredible care of you. They’d promised Bucky you were in safe hands, but he didn’t want to leave you.

Even when he got up to grab something, he’d see the fear spark through your eyes as you weakly reached out to him.

You didn’t answer any of the million questions you were suffocated with, opting to silently look away from the doctors and agents. The only thing Bucky had been able to coax out of you was your name, one late night when you couldn’t fall asleep.

“Do you like books? I can read to you.”

Bucky did his best to keep you entertained, and he’d already manage to read you several books from the harry potter series. Peter Parker had insisted everyone in your generation liked them, and he’d considered them a safe bet.

Bucky read you the stories of magic and boarding school and friendship, staying by your bedside and entertaining you. After you finished each book, he convinced Banner to let you use the lab screens to watch the films.

Once you were finally recovered enough to be stable, Bucky had convinced them to let you come stay with him at his apartment in Brooklyn. Stark Tower was cold, huge, and noisy. He thought it would be much better for your recovery to be in a calmer and more cozy environment.

Bucky unlocked the door to his apartment, letting you inside first. You tensed a bit as the large golden retriever waddled up to you.

“It’s alright. Lucy, this is Y/N. She’s our new friends that’s going to be staying here. You gotta protect her too, she’s a little nervous,” Bucky spoke to his dog as if she were a human, amusing you a bit.

Lucy sniffed your hands, and you giggled softly when she licked your fingers.

Bucky had never heard you laugh, and it made his heart soften. The quiet sound was so sweet, and he wanted to be the source of your laughter, and hear it for the rest of his life. 

He gave you a short tour of his home, a small apartment in Brooklyn. It was  cozy and intimate, the warmth a stark contrast to the cold metallics of Banner’s lab where you had spent the last two weeks. 

You followed him to the second bedroom, the walls painted a pale lavender. Bucky set down your bag of clothes and personal items that Nat had provided you with Stark’s credit card. 

“I didn’t know what color you liked, but Wanda said that this color was a safe bet,” he said apologetically, and you nodded, the corners of your lips turning up slightly.

You were slightly nervous when Bucky left you to unpack and settle, but you smiled as Lucy hopped on top of the white duvet cover. You peeked your head out of the door, looking into the living room when you heard music. Bucky laid a vinyl record on the player in the corner, old music floating through the small apartment. 

“I was going to make dinner. Are you up for eating?” 

You nodded, and he lightly touched your hip as he walked by, to the open kitchen. You slipped the clothes into the closet and the drawers, setting the phone and laptop on the little desk in the room before going to join Bucky in the main part of his home. You wrapped in the cashmere blanket that was on the end of the bed, comforted by being swaddled in the soft fabric.

“I got that for you, I thought you’d like it,” Bucky smiled at you, nodding at the blanket. You sat up at the island, across from where he was slicing vegetables. You smiled back at him, and he leaned forward and held out a piece of red pepper to you. 

Your smaller fingers took it from his metal hand, biting into the sweet vegetable he gave you. 

“I thought we could watch the Deathly Hallows tonight, it’s the last one we have left.”

You agreed and ate as much of the salad he made as you could. Before Bucky could get up, you grabbed his bowl and slipped away from the island, doing the dishes for the two of you. Bucky laughed as you spun around with the music, and you reached out your hands, inviting him to dance with you. 

His arm went around your waist, and your fingers slipped in his. His chin rested on top of your head, and you felt his heartbeat thrum against your cheek as you slowly swayed to the music. He quietly sang along to the song from a 40′s artist, a peace settling over the two of you. 

The music stopped as the needle slipped to the middle of the record, and Bucky’s arm tightened around your waist. You hugged him, feeling safe and secure in his arms.

You reached into a bowl and grabbed a piece of chocolate before following him to the couch, where he was turning on your movie. You curled up on the end of the couch, draping your blanket over you. You watched the movie, Bucky’s hand resting on your ankle, his fingertips occasionally moving over your skin. 

His careful touch was welcomed, soothing your remaining nerves from being in the new environment. You jumped when the snake in the movie lunged forward, a soft gasp escaping your lips. 

“Oh, no, it’s alright, doll,” Bucky gently squeezed your ankle. You sat up and moved to lean against his side. He draped his arm over your body, keeping you safe from the magical snake in the movie. 

You dreaded going to bed, and Bucky could sense your nerves. Since you’d been rescued from Hydra, Bucky had slept a few feet from you, holding your hand. 

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’m just in the next room if you need.”

You twisted your hair between your fingers, patting Lucy’s head before crawling into bed. 

After hours of lying awake, your body finally succumbed to exhaustion. Dreams twisted into nightmares, making your heart seize and trapping the oxygen in your lungs. A cold sweat broke out all over your body, and you shot up, gasping for breath as memories of Hydra’s experiments and torture flashed through your mind.

You rubbed your eyes and held your blanket to your chest, trying to fight off the nightmares. The shadows in the corners seemed to move and grab at you like claws, the terror bubbling higher in your throat. You knew you were safe in Bucky’s apartment, but your heart couldn’t quite catch up with your mind. 

Finally, you gave up trying to calm yourself down and you threw yourself out of the bed, running quietly into Bucky’s room. 

“Bucky... Bucky, wake up, please!” you desperately gasped out, hot tears rolling down your face. 

“Y/N, I’m here, it’s okay.” He sat up and moved over on the mattress, making room.

Your voice immediately snapped him out of his sleepy daze, so unused to hearing you speak. 

“I’m sorry,” you hiccuped, and he shook his head, snuggling your body against his under the blankets.You buried your face in his chest, letting him wrap you tightly in his arms. His dog tags were cold against your skin, tears soaking through his thin t-shirt.

“No, it’s okay. Go back to sleep, doll. I promise I’m going to keep you safe.”

Metal fingers combed through your hair as his other hand rubbed your shaking back. Bucky kissed the top of your head, soothing you back to sleep. He understood your fear, only recently freed from Hydra’s nightmares himself. Having you sleeping beside him comforted him as much as you, and he didn’t mind you crawling under his covers at two am. 

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the soft light pouring through white curtains. Bucky was lying next to you, and Lucy was curled up at your feet on the end of the mattress. You were halfway on top of him, your head on his chest and one leg draped between his. His metal arm was around your waist, resting just under the hem of your shirt, tracing small shapes on your skin.

Your head felt heavy from crying the night before, and your arms were weak as you tried to push yourself to sit up. 

“You okay?”

“Fine enough,” you whispered, Lucy’s ears perking up. 

Steel eyes searched your face, and his fingers slid to the small of your back as you sat up over him.

“I love hearing your voice,” Bucky smiled up at you, and you bit your lower lip as you smiled back.

You started giggling as Lucy licked your face, and before Bucky could gently push her off of you, you wrapped your arms around the dog and kissed the side of her furry head. Bucky sat up and pet Lucy before gently cupping your jaw. You looked at him, blushing as he briefly kissed you. 

He pulled back and gauged your reaction, anxiety sweeping over him when your eyes widened.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just-”

You leaned forward and kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck as you shifted onto his lap. Passion poured through the two of you, and he held you tightly as your lips moved together.

“Don’t be sorry, kiss me again,” you whispered against his lips. He grinned before fulfilling your request, giving you exactly what you wanted. 

[parkerlyn]

I just finished reading that little Drabble that you did about the characters reacting to MC having a nightmare about them and it was so sweet! It left me wondering though, how would the RO’s react to having a nightmare about Mc? Like who would go check on Mc, who would just go back to sleep etc. :D

Ah I'm glad you enjoyed! Though it's an older drabble I really enjoyed writing those C: (Link here if you haven't seen it!)

In a crushing but mutual feelings mostly confirmed sort of stage...

The Sage: Least panicked on waking, though has to even their breathing and remind themself that it was just a nightmare. Listens for any sort of commotion or if they can sense something off in the magic of the surrounding rooms. When they can't, they're able to lull themself back from their panic and eventually drift back to sleep, albeit more fitful than before. In the morning though, they're extra attentive - checking to make sure you're alright and that you slept well, despite the bags under their own eyes.

The Healer: Groggy on waking, rubbing at their face to try and slough away the dregs of the nightmare. Takes a few minutes to consider whether they should check on you, and eventually does. They would be the most upfront about it - gently knocking and gripping at the back of their neck when you answer, but being open about having a nightmare and just wanting to make sure you were okay. Is secretly hoping you'll invite them to stay for just a little longer.

Oisein: Wakes up in a cold sweat and is immediately up, pacing and wearing a path into the floor of their room. Takes a bit longer than the Healer to come up with some excuse he can use to justify showing up at your door in the middle of the night. Runs to the bathroom to quickly dash his fingers through his hair, before throwing on some clothes and jetting toward you. They spin a white lie in their head about being restless and wanting to get up to a little trouble and needing a partner in crime. But as soon as you open the door, they go silent - shoulders sagging in relief - and almost forget the story they've woven before placing the confident, languid mask back on again.

The Magesmith: Is the most afraid and most awake as soon as they rouse from the nightmare. Jolts up with a gasp and their hand clutching their chest. Haphazardly throws on some more clothes and grabs their prosthetic arm, only halfway through securing it on when they're already at your door. It'd be understandable to think the entire place is falling apart around you by how frantic their knocking is, but all you find is a disheveled enchanter with wide eyes searching over your body to make sure you don't have any of the wounds they imagined. When they realize where they are, though, they clear their throat - muttering that they thought they heard something and sorry to bother you - before trying to speedwalk back to their own room. Your hand at their wrist stops them easily.

Thank you for the ask! 💖

[fat-bottom-demons]

Heyo! I was wondering if you could write some Norman Bates x Comfort!Fem!Reader fluff? Where Norman has a really bad day and she tries to comfort him in anyway possible? :) (P.S, I'm halfway through your request!)

Authors note I'm sorry this took so long and it's rather short, but I hope you like it regardless

Norman's shoulders had ached all day with no sign of getting much better. He chalked it down to stress which was more than likely the cause. Stress about money, the idea of someone coming across the swamp, the repairs the old house needed, and the nightmares. The nightmares were certainly the worst thing weighing on his mind. Falling asleep and finding himself back in his childhood room and hearing his mother shrieking down the hall. That's how it always started. it always ended in the same way, a knife in his mother's chest and Norman waking in a cold sweat.

You had heard him get up in the middle of the night several times in the past few weeks. Your room was in the house only a few doors down from Normans, he had insisted on sleeping in different rooms deeming otherwise to be 'improper' and 'inappropriate'. He was certainly the traditionalist and definitely a gentleman. Other than hearing him wake up throughout the night, you noticed the almost constant rolling of his shoulders and how jumpy he slowly became. You asked him on several occasions if everything was okay and he simply put on a smile and said he was okay, everything was fine. But you knew differently of course.

After finding a bird that had hit the window of the motel Norman broke. He sat in his bedroom and sobbed for the first time in years. He hated crying, hated showing how upset he was. It made him feel weak, like a child. But he couldn't help it, he had held on to so much for so long. He wrapped his arms around himself as his tears ran freely down his cheeks, occasionally wiping them with the back of his hand.

You closed the door behind you as you entered the house. You had been checking in a couple of guests in the motel. A lovely young couple on their honeymoon that had to stop for the night. Your thoughts of weddings and honeymoons stopped as you heard faint crying from upstairs. With a frown, you quickly went up the stairs and up to Norman's room. Hesitating, you softly knocked on his door. You stood back as you heard deep breaths and footsteps. The door opened a crack and there you could see cocoa brown eyes and soft tear-stained cheeks.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do," you said quietly as you fiddled with your bracelet.

"oh I'm fine, really," Norman said with a sad smile that didn't meet his eyes.

"Norman, I know you a lot better than you think I do. please talk to me," you said softly trying to be as gentle as possible.

He hesitated and opened the door further, letting you in. A deep sigh left him as he wiped his eyes and let out one last sniffle. He felt embarrassed to let you see him in such a state. He fancied you quite a lot and would hate for you to think less of him.

But you didn't. You thought he was gentle and kind, and you made sure to let him know. You both sat on the bed and you listened to his worries. You rubbed his back in circles to help bring about a sense of comfort. You assured him that you didn't think less of him for crying or showing emotions.

After you held him and given him a much-needed hug, Norman felt a little lighter. And a little bit more in love.

[rfaromance]

"You had a bad dream again."

It wasn't a question.

Hoping the darkness of the night and the room would conceal the blush growing on his face, Saeran turned to the blonde resting beside him. "I guess," he mumbled, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible while running a frustrated hand through his messy crimson curls. His hair was slowly regaining some of its vitality and texture now that he had stopped bleaching it into oblivion, but that came with the unfortunate side effect of awful bedhead.

Especially when he woke up in middle of the night, after gasping, sweating, and flailing in his efforts to escape the nightmares he frequently was trapped in.

He wished he could ease back into a peaceful slumber thereafter, assuring himself these horrendous visions were just dreams, just fantasy, just imagination.

But his nightmares were all too real, composed of images of his past that he would prefer to never see again.

His conscience wasn't going to be so forgiving to him, though.

"The third one this week."

Another simple, flat, matter-of-fact statement. Rose wasn't one of many words, so when they spoke, they cut straight to the point. When Saeran had first met them, they'd been downright gregarious, talking in circles and meandering through an entire forest of words and whimsy before reaching any sort of conclusion or main point.

Sometimes he missed the way they used to blabber on incessantly, but he only had himself to blame for this drastic change in their mannerisms. He knew they did most of their wandering and pondering internally, now, working through the tangled words and thoughts first and uttering the simple message later.

He almost wished he could see inside their mind. But then he realized that would mean he'd come face to face with their exact thoughts, feelings, and opinions of him, the person who'd stolen them away from their daily life and turned them into... whatever this was.

He'd damned them to false salvation and that was another one of his sins that would haunt him until the day God, Satan, or whatever powers that be, would finally let him die.

"Water?"

Saeran was snapped out of his tumultuous thoughts by the sudden feeling of a bottle of water tapping against his arm. He murmured a quick "thank you" before picking up the bottle and slowly opening it, then raising it to his lips.

He could feel his arm trembling at even something as simple as this, and that's how he knew his nightmare still had a grip on him.

Darkness. Cold. Loneliness. Choking on acid, on "milk and honey" of paradise, feeling the stinging sourness slide past his lips and down his throat until it was raw, raw, raw, bloody and bruised and scabbed and scarred and--

Saeran began to cough halfway through his drink, spluttering as he tried to gasp for air. The memory of his nightmare had startled him, and his mouth felt like it was on fire with elixir even though he knew logically it was just water.

Trauma responses weren't exactly logical, however.

Rose immediately leaned over and began to pat his back, hoping to help him cough out any water that might have gone down the wrong pipe. Once he stopped hacking and could feel nothing but air in his lungs, he inhaled deeply and laid back down on his pillow. "Thank you."

He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, but he could feel Rose shuffling beside him, putting the water bottle back on the bedside table.

"Rose."

They turned to him wordlessly before laying back down on their own pillow, gaze fixed on him. He probably should have turned to look at them, too, out of respect, but he hadn't been able to make eye contact with Rose ever since the day they'd been taken out of Mint Eye.

He didn't trust himself not to break down at the sight of their minty blue eyes. The eyes he'd forced upon them.

The eyes of the man he'd killed in cold blood.

"Tomorrow, you should ask Saeyoung to move you into another room."

The idea made sense to Saeran. If he was going to keep on kicking and screaming and waking up in a cold sweat, he couldn't subject Rose to that. They deserved to sleep. They deserved something resembling peace after everything he had put them through. Honestly, he wasn't even sure why they'd come to this bunker in the first place. They insisted they'd wanted to come, that they'd asked to come, that they'd begged to know where Saeran was after they'd been separated, but...

Who in their right mind would willingly run back to the person who'd ruined their life?

"No."

A single and simple word, but it carried a level of force behind it that Saeran had never heard Rose express before.

"You won't be able to sleep."

"No," Rose repeated, even more emphatically this time.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was the haunting memories of Rose's unquestioning obedience for so long that made this blatant act of refusal all the more jarring, but Saeran felt his temper beginning to slip. "I don't want you near me when I'm like this!" he snapped, sitting upright now and scowling down at them. "I don't want to hurt you more than I already have!"

"I don't... want to leave you."

His breath caught in his throat. He needed to stop there. He needed to keep a lid on his anger. But as emotionally overwhelmed as he was right now, both by his past and his present, any hopes of keeping himself under control were thrown out the front door. "Do you have any fucking idea what it's like to be plagued by every awful thing you've ever done, every night, and then you wake up with the same intrusive thoughts bombarding you all day? Every sin, every crime, tainting your being until nothing is fucking left of you and you're just--"

"I have nightmares too."

He could barely hear them above his own tirade, but he could see their figure sit up as well. "Why..." Now he could feel his face burning not just with anger but embarrassment. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to."

Such a simple answer. Saeran snorted and turned his head away. "I'm sure they're all about me. Is that why you refused to tell me?"

Rose began to toy with the ends of their hair, which was just at shoulder length. They'd decided to let it grow out after keeping it at a short bob for so long as his assistant. Saeran couldn't be sure if it was their way of reclaiming themselves or trying to start anew, the same way he'd finally stopped trying to hide every aspect of his existence and turn himself into someone, anyone else. "I didn't want you to worry," they murmured at last. "I don't want to leave you, because... when I have nightmares... and they wake me up... I feel safe next to you."

Safe.

"I know you'll... scare everything bad away... and never let bad things happen again."

Shame flushed across Saeran's face as he tried to process Rose's words and formulate a response. How could anyone feel safe near him? Rose knew better than anyone else what he had done and what he was capable of doing. He was the one who'd snatched them from their life, and Rose had had a front row seat to every evil he'd committed in the name of his selfish revenge. But... for some silly reason... they trusted him.

The redhead was constantly down on himself for not being better. For not healing faster. For still struggling and suffering. For failing to adjust properly. For being awkward, clumsy, foolish in front of others.

Rose saw that he was trying, and they believed in that effort.

"Fine. On one condition."

Rose tilted their head to the side curiously but didn't object. Saeran inhaled sharply once again, trying to steady the pounding in his chest that could no longer be attributable to his nightmare but rather to the complicated emotions fluttering in his heart.

"You have to protect me from my nightmares, too."

"Okay."

That was it. That was all he needed. Most people wouldn't find that answer all too reassuring, but as Rose shuffled closer to him and leaned their head against his shoulder before the two of them laid back down again, he knew that this was a promise the blonde would never break.

Maybe one day he'd be able to stand on his own two feet instead of constantly relying on others.

For now, he didn't particularly mind having Rose watch over him, as he fell back asleep without any other dreams to wake him before morning.

[over--and-out]

My Time of Need

Summary: Max has a nightmare in the middle of the night and when she can't find her mom, she decides it's best to talk to somebody; and the closest person is across the street.

Warnings: Nightmares, major season 3 spoilers, season 4 spoilers but not really, grammar isn't perfect, Max rants about things, mentions of death and self harm

She woke up the same way she had many nights. Scared with sweat dripping from her brow. A migraine bloomed in the back of her head, her hand flying up to apply pressure on it. The same moment played in the back of her head over and over.

"BILLY!"

Her own voice echoed and she clenched her eyes shut, pushing the palms of her hands into her eyes. She swung her feet off the side of the bed and padded into the kitchen to get some water. "Mom?" Her voice called into the dark tiredly and she made her way to the living room. Her face fell when she realized that her mother wasn't there. She bit her lip as tears welled up in her eyes. Of all the times she needed her mom...

A harsh sigh escaped her as she wrapped her arms around herself, slipping her Vans on and walking outside for air. She needed to talk to somebody. She knew she should. She walked halfway down the path leading to the road before she stopped. Who could Max go to? Almost nobody was awake.

Or so she thought.

She heard yelling, slamming of doors. The sound caught her attention, her bright blue eyes drifting to the door of the trailer across the street from her as it slammed open. Wayne Munson, her neighbor, was yelling inside. She couldn't recall his first name, and she couldn't quite catch the context of the yelling either, only that he was yelling at his nephew. Eddie Munson.

Max's brows furrowed and she heard Eddie go silent while his uncle yelled at him. Wayne yelled a final 'fix it or I will' before slamming the door to his car and driving off. Eddie sighed, sitting down on the steps of the porch. Max's brows furrowed and she instinctively wanted to make sure that the man was okay.

Her shoes crunched against the gravel as she walked up and Eddie's gaze snapped up to her, making her flinch. When he saw her, his gaze softened. "Hey."

"Hey."

They were both incredibly awkward, and Eddie scratched the back of his head. "Um.. Are you okay? You're that Max kid across the street, aren't you?" Max nodded a bit, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Y-Yeah. That's me. I came to ask if you were okay too." Eddie rubbed at his face with his hands and sighs.

"Yeah, I'm chill, little dude. You look like you've seen a ghost, you wanna talk about it? If not it's like, totally okay." Max could tell how awkward he was, and offered a small nod. "We can talk."

"Don't mind the mess... Haven't cleaned in a minute..." Eddie quickly picked up beer cans and shoved them into a loose trashbag on the floor and Max could feel some empathy for the man. The place was quite frankly a mess. It reminded her of her own home where her mother was constantly either gone or drunk. "So, um... What's the jig? Wanna talk about it?" Eddie looked up through his lashes as he spoke and Max immediately avoided eye contact. Her contrasting bright blue eyes were easier to read; it was easier to tell what was on her mind or how she felt.

"Um... You remember Billy? Billy Hargrove?" Max rubbed at her arm a bit, her ginger hair falling into her face. Eddie nodded in response to her words, listening intently as he opened the fridge and offered her a can of Dr. Pepper. She took the can, the metal cold on her fingers.

"Yeah, I know him. We didn't get along very well." It was Max's turn to nod in response. "He... I watched him die. And it's stuck with me. Ever since then, and I wake up at night from dreams of it."

"Oh, I see." Now no longer distracted, Eddie's dark brown eyes were focused on Max's nervous form that was riddles with anxiety and he decided to lower himself to sit on the floor leaned against the fridge. Max nodded a bit and sighed as she looked down at him. "It's been hard."

"Well, it's hard dealing with a loss. Doesn't even have to be someone you love in the corny way you see on TV."

"Its HAS been hard... It's driving me crazy and I have been half tempted to just end things. Billy and I, we weren't close, but... Billy was still..." Family. My brother. She wanted to say that, but the words got stuck in her throat. Eddie understood nonetheless.

"Yeah. That's gonna make it harder. Somebody like that." Max nodded, tears burning at her eyes.

"Billy was an asshole. But... But he..." Eddie tilted his head patiently and a tear slipped down Max's face. "He was getting better. And then he was gone."

Eddie's face contorted into sadness. It hurt to see how upset this child was, too young to have to go through that loss regardless of whether she was a teenager or not. He offered a hug as he slowly came to stand and Max accepted it gratefully. Eddie's touch was warm but strong, firm and caring. Max clung to him in the hug, she had not known how much she needed this until now but she was grateful that this near stranger had been so kind.

"Hey um... How're you feeling?" Eddie looked down and Max pulled away, feeling a bit awkward for clinging to him for as long as she did. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but it wasn't like Eddie minded it much.

"Better now... I think. I haven't talked about it much." The man smiled at her.

"Well I'm glad you trusted the ears of an absolute weirdo to share it with." Max smiled softly, shaking her head.

"Thank, Eddie."

[ktheist]

take my whole life too | m

muses. jeongguk x heir!reader

genre. chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

words. 5k

warnings. dad!jeongguk, house husband!jeongguk, simp!jeongguk, implied smut verging on actual smut, mentions of break up and arguments

x

you never gave much thought for jeon jeongguk - not for how he looks, not for how much he makes, not for how compatible you are together. nothing. so much for promising to stay together through health and sickness till death do you apart.

but that’s just the thing, you were willing to let go of your heart in exchange for the wealth of your family. which is inherently yours until the findings of your grandfather’s will appointing his administrators the task of safeguarding the billions of dollar estate against his unmarried granddaughter who to be fair, has always had her eyes on that bejeweled ring of his. it’s less about the diamond and more about what possessing - legally, of course - the ring could do. for one, nobody could challenge your legitimacy as the chairman of luxean. and boy, do your overbearing aunties like to nitpick every little thing you do at the board meeting just to put their sons and daughters in a better light.

so yeah, you would say sacrificing your non-existent possibility of falling in love would suffice. plus, jeongguk can go shopping for convertibles with a swipe of a card, fly from london to italy to greece and back to london within one night. heck, he can even have a steamy hot night with the locals and bring back a greek goddess of a mistress if he wanted to.

except for one problem: he wants to do all those things with you.

well, considering how he stripped down to just pants with the buckle undone and protrusion of well defined abs that leads to a tantalizing v-line beneath the contrasting black band of his calvin klein halfway to the bedroom of your suite after the ceremony, completely disregarding the fact you never spoke to him unless you were in the presence of other people - watching eyes - and the limited time you have to change into your second outfits, you figured he’d want more than just hot and steamy nights in paris and peaceful quiet mornings in athens in your sundress and off white spring hats.

he either hasn’t figured out that he’s just a tool for you to gain public opinion or he doesn’t particularly care as long as he’s getting some.

“you’re leaving?” the voice that asked the very obvious question bears a sort of despondency to it.

when you turn to face the man lying naked - and looking like a well sculpted greek god at that - in the bed, you curse yourself for forgetting the one simple thing that you promise yourself not to do: look at him in the eye. by god, you’ve never seen anyone -  any man - who could be so good at weakening your resolution and making you want to climb into bed and cuddle him like a puppy.

“didn’t soyeon tell you i have a meeting?” you manage to sound casual about it for the most part as you put on the earrings that lie abandoned on the vanity when jeongguk came in just before you were almost done with your make up and bent you over the vanity to fuck you once before carrying you to the bed and fuck you in your sensitive state.

“i know,” he mumbles.

and when only silence follows suit, you can’t help but let your hands rest on your hip as you raise your eyebrows, “but?”

it takes a moment of the man trapping his bottom lip between his teeth and leaving it with a sort of pinkish shine when he releases it, “can we have another go?”

“you’re hard?” this time, the surprise in your voice is unconcealable, “again?”

“i know - i’m sorry - it’s just... that dress looks really good on you,” he doesn’t even bother to hide his ogling.

so to answer the question of whether you fucked him that time at your suite when you were supposed to change, yes you did.

“sounds like a you kind of problem,” you wave with the hand that picked up your purse - all your essentials already there, “go out and have a look at athens before we fly for london tomorrow - oh and maybe grab some dinner for yourself.”

“when will you be back?” as much as you like to think you’re indifferent to your husband, you can’t help but think he looks endearing for shying away from your gaze and rubbing the back of his head hesitantly, “i thought maybe we could have dinner together.”

there’s a strain in his voice but you brush it off, shrugging, “what do you think meetings like this are held over? i am going for dinner,” you want to take that back as soon as it escaped your lips but instead, you turn around, “anyways, don’t wait up.”

that’s one habit that he seems to have - waiting for you until you climb into bed with him after long hours of frying your eyes in front of the laptop in the common area.

either way, you strut out of your suite, leaving your husband with a semi-hard cock, you didn’t miss the way it twitched at your blatant rejection just before you turned your back on him.

and so you go about your day, the meeting coming to a close flawlessly as with a signed contract and a meal worthy of the restaurant’s reputation. by the time you thought the approaching figure from the corner of your eyes is the waiter bringing your desserts, kim taehyung was in the middle of thanking you “for meeting me on such a short notice, on your honeymoon at that.”

“i should thank you for reaching out to my secretary when you heard i’d be here too,” you chuckle, hand pushing a stray hair to the back of your ear before your gaze travels up to meet the man’s, “my grandfather always says, there’s no security on this earth, only opportunity,” raising the wine glass mid air, you offer him a smile, “and god does not help anyone seize it unless they do so themselves.”

“the late chairman was a wise man,” he raises his own glass, only to freeze at an awkward angle when the waiter finally approaches you.

except it isn’t the waiter. 

it’s-

“___,” a voice fills your ears like velvet on skin, you already know who it belongs to before you even look up at the man whose out-of-character furrowed brows and pressed lips all but makes you want to shoot up from your seat and spout out explanations you don’t even owe him, “i thought i’d pick you up since it’s,” he checks his rolex - it was the first thing you bought him after assessing his lack of accessory after you’d both signed the contract, “half an hour till midnight and the polignotou isn’t going to wait for us.”

taehyung is the one to break the silence, “it seems i’ve taken up too much of your time.”

before you can even refute it, he’s already standing up and fixing his blazer before stepping to the side to properly face your husband. 

“congratulations of your marriage, mr. jeon,” then he turns to you, his smile just as excellent at yours when it comes to hiding your emotions and that could only mean that tonight is drawing to an end on a bad note thanks to your husband’s interruption, “mrs. jeon.”

and with a final words of ‘i’ll have my secretary send you the papers soon’, he’s gone like the wind.

“what are you doing here? i told you i had a meeting! not gallivanting with some greek men!” the words come out in a low hiss when he takes the abandoned seat across from you as you gaze around the vicinity in case there are other business acquaintances that happen to know you.

“i’m sorry -” he mumbles out, “i was walking down the streets and i saw you at the balcony of the restaurant and-” he stops short of his words, tongue darting out over his lower lip for the briefest moment.

“and?” you echo, brows arched.

“i got jealous of seeing you with another guy,” his voice is barely above whisper but you hear it loud and clear.

you’re almost sure that you’ve slipped but and let your eyes narrow at him like a puzzle that you can’t figure out but it’s gone in a heartbeat as you pick up your purse and clear your throat. possibly in search for the right words to say but perhaps also an admittance of your caught-off-guard situation.

either way you stand up, “let’s go, the street starts getting scarcer by 2 and i’d rather stay safe and walk with more people than less.”

x

you did end up walking.

it was a halfway walk but it’s still a walk, that was, until you saw jeongguk pulling on the material of his pants every two minutes. the lack of lights did well to hide it but even then, your eyes automatically pans towards the noticeable protrusion in between his legs. as if your body has completely adapted to his scent - that subtle but evident scent of masculinity, his gaze - the pure, unadulterated desire within the shadows in his eyes and his touch - the way his hand seems to inch lower down your ass before he traces back up to settle on the dip of your spine before it left you cold and unattended when he started to tug on his pants.

“jeongguk -ah, fuck,” you bite back the moan that spills over your lips, “you’re making too much noise.”

“yeah?” his voice bears a lull to it as he thrusts in and out of you in the way that makes your legs come together and your heart leap all the way to your throat as your hands grip onto the dampened cart jeongguk pushed you against in the closest alleyway you were walking towards before he bent you over, lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down.

not even a minute passed before you felt him inside you. and by god, did you feel filled to the brim. the sheen of sweat coating your skin is cold against the chilly night air, the sinful sounds echoing off the walls makes you pray for the first time in a long time that no one is nearby and the way jeongguk is hitting all your sweet spots has you gritting your teeth in hopes that it’d be one less sound to get you arrested for public indecency.

in a country that you’re not a citizen of, at that.

you’re not sure how you got back to your suite and how the hell did you switch into your night dress but you have an inkling that it has something to do with the man whose arm traps you against a hard, muscled body when you started shifting to wake.

his breath fans the back of your neck as he slurs his words but you can make out a ‘five more minutes’ after a grumble and a faint ‘chaeyoung’ at the end.

“no,” you’re not sure what or who you’re saying the words of rejection to, but you slam a fist into arm that’s holding you, “let me go! jeongguk! let me go!”

he finally does at the bloodcurdling scream that could wake up the whole city. but somehow security hasn’t come bursting through the door and the streets in front of your room hasn’t halted its hustling and bustling.

“wh-what happened?” jeongguk’s wide eyes scan the room for the one, solid minute before they rest on you but instead of settling with the deduction that your scream was caused by his own entrapment - possibly the unfamiliar name he blurted out - he crawls over to you, “are you okay?” hand on your cheek as he checks for something.

they return to your eyes when you slap it away though.

you’re not even sure why you’re seeing red but you attribute it to the fact that- “how did i get in this?”

he takes one look and blinks, “i changed you because you fell asleep in the cab and i carried-”

“why?” arms crossed over your chest, you speak over him.

“i... i thought you might be uncomfortable sleeping in that dress,” you can almost hear the screws in his brain turning in search for answers.

“stop, okay? don’t act like you’re some award-winning husband - you’re not, you were broke and was about to lose your only source of income when i came to you and asked if you wanted to not have to work a day in your life,” he must’ve not known that his eyebrows twitch at the words, “it’s always been about the money - i get it, so you can stop now. we don’t have to play house when no one’s around because this isn’t an actual marriage and we don’t even love each other.”

you expected the stars in his eyes to dim out, expected him to avert his gaze somewhere to the most random thing like the ugly vase next to the door or the phone on the nightstand or the window where the sound of kids laughing and vendors across the street obnoxiously greeting his neighboring competition.

but instead, he looks straight at you, “what is it then?” he asks, “what are we if those good night kisses, cuddling into each other in the middle of the night when we woke up briefly before falling back to sleep, holding hands while walking and making love every night-”

“i don’t know where you got that because i never kissed you, i never asked you to wait for me to go to sleep together and i never touched you first - they were all you,” your head dips to the side just the slightest bit, “and we had sex every night. that’s it - it’s just sex.”

the last thing you see before you climb off the bed and lock yourself in the bathroom, dialing up your secretary’s number to book a plane ticket for yourself, is what you’ve initially expected to see.

stars that don’t shine as bright as the morning they twinkle and greet for the first time of the day. brows that knit together but not because he’s anxious or nervous about telling you something.

when you stepped out, he’s gone and you don’t leave any notes. not even a text after you packed up your belongings, hailed a cab and went straight to the airport in your darkest shades and brightest dress.

and so it goes, not a single rumor about your early arrival in seoul and your lack of spouse with you. mainly because jeongguk and you have put up quite a show for those watching eyes. a love story worth spectating and an ending keenly awaited. but you’ve made it clear, during your about-to-hit one month honeymoon that you’re truly, deeply, madly in love with your chosen husband, so much so, that you’re willing to leave the chairman seat unguarded. 

it’s a gamble but it worked like magic. the board members welcome you back into the company without any inquiry even though you’re one week too early. mr. yoo even seems relieved to see you when you’re on your way to your office on your first day back.

“it’s nice to see you again, miss ____ -” he stops himself, “i mean, mrs. jeon.”

you shake your head, laughing, “miss ___ is fine for me, everyone’s known me as that for so long.”

when you reach the end of the hallway where you have to part to go to your office, and him to his, you tap him on the arm once with a hand that lacks a wedding ring but he doesn’t seem to care as he dips into a bow and bids you a good day.

and so it goes, you start burying yourself in your pending works while also juggling surprise visits from two of your aunts, to which each does not fail to not-so-discreetly give your left hand a once over. but you’re faster, having kept your ring in the drawer and pulling it out and slipping it on under the desk before standing up to greet the elder women both times without fail.

on the day jeongguk and you were supposed to return, you’ve debated on booking a hotel just because you don’t want to face him - soyeon briefed him about your sudden departure back to korea and that there was no reason for him to come back with you. and so he stayed. travelled to london and then to glasgow with a black card and unlimited possibilities - just liked you promised him on the day you signed the contract.

things might have gotten off track but coming back to the familiar scent of ocean from your candlewicks and the bonzai that belonged to your deceased grandfather in the corner of the room, you’ve found your purpose again - the reason you would go so far as to sacrifice your heart for this position.

you’re never going to lose sight of it ever again.

but when the door beeps once after you punched in the code, the smell of something delicious waft in the air after you stepped into your apartment and jeongguk greeting you with a pink apron with printed with hearts all over it, you feel yourself freezing in your spot.

“oh, you’re back?” his back is on you as he redirects his attention to the sizzling goodness in the hot pan, “i’m making fried noodles, it’ll be done it 10 minutes - why don’t you go and change first?”

it takes a moment of you staring at the black tresses of his head and the broad shoulders with a pink string hanging over the back of his neck before you actually take a step towards the stairs. once you’ve showered and dressed in your pajamas - you prefer those than the lingerie jeongguk has only ever seen you in - it takes another moment for you to stare at the golden strings layered with button mushrooms, beef slices and prawns and a fried egg over them.

“okay,” you shake your head, as if to shake away the trance that seems to come over you - jeongguk’s already looking at you with a curve on his lips, “what is this?”

“friend noodles,” he says simply.

“no,” another round of head-shaking passes, “i mean, what are you doing? i literally insulted you and called you a bum and a gold digger.”

he takes a minute to mull over the matter, bottom lip jutting out as if to say, “yeah, i kinda am.”

“you must also not realize that i only talk to you when we’re in public or when we’re having sex,” you point out, fork gripped tightly in your hand to which he gives a glance at before reaching to pull it out of your grasp and setting it on the napkin next to your plate.

“love making,” he reiterates but before you can even get a word out, he holds up a hand and tilts his head in a ‘wait’ kind of manner, “and a relationship is 50-50, you work and i cook and clean.”

your eyes narrow at him for the longest moment before you pick up the fork again, this time dipping it into the strands of gold and twirling it before directing it to yout mouth. an appreciative moan leaves you as the spice and sweetness spread over you like a whole new experience.

“good right?” jeongguk mimics your action, digging in and smiling proudly with the first bite.

it’s only when you’re done and loaded the dirty dishes into the washer, as you watch him take off the apron with his back on you whilst you lean against the edge of the counter, do you finally ask, “who’s chaeyoung?”

the way he freezes up with hands middair, in the middle of hanging the strap over the hook - isn’t the least bit surprising.

“wh-who?” the hesitant way he looks at you and then to his feet and then to the sink with a hand rubbing the back of his neck - is familiar. welcomed even but you don’t show.

“you tell me,” you shrug, “must’ve been someone important - someone who you’re used to having wake you up.” you let the silence hang in the air for several heartbeats, watching as his adam’s apple bob whilst his wide-eyed gaze shifts from the sink to the block of knives to the stool before they rest on you.

“maybe a girlfriend you left behind in exchange for money - the money i offered you,” and with that, you watch as his gaze shakes and his pink move but no words come out.

it’s only a long moment later, that he finally manages to find them, “i... i haven’t seen chaeyoung ever since we got married.”

“well, congratulations!” you bring your hands together in a crisp applause, lips curving into one of your schooled smiles, “soyeon contacted her and guess what she said? she said you told her you were going to the city to find a job and didn’t want her to wait on you which was why you broke up but poor little chaeyoung is still waiting for you on the country side - you can go see her and your parents.”

and with that, you turn your back on him for the first time since you left him to an empty suite and a cold bed. 

“why are you so...” but just as thought you could walk out of this like a winner, jeon jeongguk somehow manages to pull you several steps back with just words and eyes that bears more emotions than you can handle, “mean?”

“you’re always smiling and laughing with your secretary like you’re best friends, you always look sad when you talk about your grandfather and you always kiss your parents on the cheek every time you meet them... why-” he stops short when he meets your gaze - you’re not sure what he sees that makes him look like he’s been punched in the face with a wild ball. 

“i’ve always been mean,” you feel your eyebrows rising before you blink once, “you just had your head in the clouds, dreaming about how you can make a girl with a rotten attitude change and maybe fall in love with you along the way - well guess what? i’m not her,” and just like that night in athens, something in the way he stands, stiff like a rock and eyes darkened with a sort of desire, your eyes travel down to his pants where a painfully obvious erection protrudes against the fabric of his pants, “...and you like it.”

“no, i - this - it’s...” he fumbles on his words as he clasps his hands over his crotch, but the way his eyes seem to find solace at the sight of your cleavage screams desperation and agony.

“___... you don’t have- fuck,” the first moan falls out of his mouth when yours wrap around him. 

“only because i can’t have a proper conversation when all you’re concerned about is how to take my blouse off from all the way across the room,” you say after a delicious ‘pop!’ when your cheeks hollow out just before you pull away.

it takes only a few more pumps before he’s begging you to “wait- please - i want you.”

it’s the ‘please’ that gets you.

“fine but don’t come inside,” you relent, hands fiddling with the zipper of your skirt before jeongguk’s polite ‘let me’ as he bends you over the counter, chilly air kissing your skin as a tear echo against the wall and you wonder if you’re free in the weekend to go shopping for-

“oh my god,” the moan slips out of your mouth in a pleasured surprise - you didn’t expect him to get your pantyhose, panties and skirt out of the way that fast.

thought with the barely noticeable discomfort of your panties digging into your hips, you figure he opted for keeping them pushed to the side instead of getting rid of them completely.

they do come off anyway, left in the trail of clothes strewn along the way to the stairs where jeongguk decides to have you bend over because “it’s a perfect place for a doggy,” and you concur as you moan and whine while he fucks you like he owns you. hand keeping your hair in a lock whilst he holds your upper body up whenever you’re about to lose yourself and bury your face in the steps. 

but you do manage to get to the bedroom, just not the bed. you made a mess on the carpet - it’s going to stain an ugly shade of sex and lust but soyeon will probably not even bat an eye once you ask her to schedule an appointment with an interior designer. might as well give your room a make over.

so it goes, jeongguk likes to call your eye rolls and offers to lend him a driver to drive him to his hometown to meet the love of his life - cute. alternatively, jealousy. which you simply roll your eyes at, again.

at times, he comes over to your office - mainly to take you out for lunch but ends up fucking you over your mahogany table. and later in the car on the side of the road where an officer came knocking on the fully tinted window - you had at least 60 seconds to button up your shirts and pull down your skirt while jeongguk zips up his pants with a whine before you roll your window down.

how the rest goes, you rather not say.

but you’ve sworn against car sex - at least in daylight and in an open space.

so when you end up walking past a mirror in your room, just as you’ve donned an off white blouse and a grey pencil skirt, you find yourself freezing in shock. hands coming to cup your stomach, you squint at the woman who’s squiting back at your belly.

“honey, breakfast is ready,” jeongguk pokes his head into the room, the infamous pink apron tied around his front and a pair of light orang oven mitts on his hands.

“do you think I gained weight?” you quiz, knowing full well that he’ll spout a heartwarming but blatant lie about-

“no, i think you’re a healthy weight,” a man that looks like him comes to hug the woman in the mirror, kissing her head before glancing at his reflection once and turning back to it, squinting his eyes at the part where your hands are.

“uh,” he hesitantly starts, “how much chipotle did you have last night?”

“not enough that’s for sure,” you turn to him with an incredulous look, “i went to bed hungry,” a light smack lands on his chest - to which he doesn’t even bat an eye, “cause you keep stealing my food!”

“maybe we should book an appointment,” he suggests, voice smooth but the glint in his eyes and the suppressed smile on his face gives away his exitement.

“no, i can’t be pregnant,” you shake your head, walking over to the vanity to pick up your purse and keys, “it’s not the right time.”

“but what if you are?” you hear the hurt in jeongguk’s voice but your interest overrides your emotiones.

“i just can’t be,” and with that, you place a kiss on his lips, “i’m sorry, baby.”

and with that, you left for the kitchen when jeongguk still tried to reason with you. he tried again for the next few days until you set your food down and told him a baby is never going to be in the picture.

but two months down, you barely fit your clothes and jeongguk has been kissing you good morning before bending down and pressing his ear to your belly, “and good morning to you, my little blueberry.”

and he’s been kissing you good night before pecking your stomach and wishing the life form growing inside you a ‘come out fast so mommy and daddy can meet you, okay?’

“good news and bad news,” soyeon said exactly one month ago after you’d fainted in a middle of a meeting and woke up in a hospital room, “you can’t be pregnant but you are and you’re gonna need an heir soon anyway so...”

“it’s bigger than a blueberry now,” you point out  - jeongguk’s been calling your child a blueberry ever since he rushed to the hospital after getting a call that his wife fainted and once he was there, got flashed with a sonogram the size of- “the doctor said it’s as big as a blueberry, not chipotle,” you’d been indifferent, mainly because a child wasn’t in your plan and you’d been taking birth control since way before you got married.

but jeongguk had been overjoyed. taking care of you everywhere you go, he didn’t even let you drive and instead searched up for drivers with a long list of the lowest rates of accidents in their records. he gets into the shower with you because he “can’t wait to have a family shower together” and packages of baby clothes have been pouring in with matching shirts and ‘mom’, ‘dad’ and ‘baby’ printed on each one and he shows them to you after you got back from work.

his love for your child had made you fall in love with being a mother. with having a family of your own - the two notions you never thought you could wrap your head around as you made your vows to each other two years ago. 

and it’s somewhere down the line, as you watch jeongguk rock your baby in his arm as she sleeps soundly amidst the beeping of the heart monitor, jeongguk’s voice like a lullaby as he murmurs ‘you’re so beautiful, you have mommy nose, and my lips, thank you for being born,’ and when he twirls around, probably feeling the heat of someone’s stare from all the way on the bed, he looks at you with that lost, wide-eyed wonder before his lips curl into a smile, eyes disappearing into crescents.

-it’s then, do you realize that jeongguk has become the person you smile and laugh with, the person you greet with a kiss and the person your heart beats for.

he’s your husband, lover, soulmate.

x

note. i have another preview with the same title and characters but from a historical era which i haven’t managed to finish but if you see a marquis!jk and x heir!reader then yk hehe. also if you like arranged marriage au’s do check my masterlist! i have a lot of them apparently (i just realized while writing this fic lol)

i’ve been super stressed and feel like i haven’t actually been doing anything i really like in the weekend so i sat down and decided to finish this draft idea once and for all! 

first off, oc is a douche bag who cares about herself a lot but it’s written in her pov which i hope portrays a justification (which isn’t necessarily okay) to the things she do. but in other people’s story, she’s that woman who stole a person’s man, or she’s that hard ass boss that nobody really likes but pays good, or that graunddaughter that seems to think about her grandfather’s money only. but no one is easily good or bad, it’s more than that just like oc. and i hope to send at least that message through this story. not one can be just ‘good’ or ‘bad’.

in my opinion, there’s no development in her character bc of the word count and the fact that i didn’t plan for it to be long enough to include a development. i just wanted to write about an asshole who has feelings and can be nice to certain people. she’s probably still an asshole but her feelings for jeongguk changed and so is her treatment towards him (as per foreshadowed) and he became one of the people she loves - and i say probably because we’ll probably never know for sure and it’s also not up to my interpretation alone. you, the readers, may think she has or may think she hasn’t - either way, this is just a story about someone who you might know, maybe someone who you’d dupe as selfish. either way, i hope yall enjoyed it!

[marsbutterfly]

Hey ! How are you ? Can I request an imagine for Hanji x f!reader where they both get reincarnated in modern time ? They both died side by side during the rubbling and when they get reincarnated they both have memories of their past life (they were already lovers). Reader thought she was never going to see her girlfriend again but one day she finds her by chance.

Take care and have a nice day !

Note: Thank you so much for requesting this. I had fun writing it and the prompt was *chefs kiss* so I really hope you like it.

In Another Life

Summary: Reincarnation is the doctrine or belief that the soul reappears after death in another and different bodily form.

                               Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!                                                      |◁ II ▷|

Cold sweat drips down your face as you bolt awake, digging your nails into the bedsheets. The same nightmare has been waking you up in the middle of the night since you were a child.

In your dream, you are a soldier who battles to save humanity in the fight against titans. Somehow, you always manage to kill the gigantic beings and return safely to the world inside the walls.

Always by your side is a brown-haired woman with glasses, her left eye is missing in most of the dreams. In all honesty, you have never seen anyone so beautiful before and, somehow, you remember her name.

Hanji Zoe.

One day, you stood by her side as the world you’ve once known was being left behind, turned into dust. She held your face in her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks, the feeling of her lips against yours is vivid and you can even smell the apple she had earlier.

The scream of your comrades echoes through the plane and into your brain but all you can focus on is the image of Hanji’s body catching on fire as the same flames burn down your back.

She hits the ground seconds before you do and somehow you manage to land by her side, hand touching hand as her lifeless body begins to cool down. You don’t have much time to think before a titan’s massive foot squishes your bodies at the exact same time.

That’s usually when you wake up, when your lungs and heart explode inside your chest due to the pressure of the step. When every blood vessel in your body gives in to the pressure and bursts inside you.

You grab your phone, only to realize your alarm was about to go off anyway. So instead of trying to go back to sleep, you simply push the covers aside and begin to drag yourself to the bathroom in hopes of getting your day started.

Not every dream you have is a nightmare. Some of them are about a life you don’t remember living: The combination of joy and fear after joining the Survey Corps, the warmth of Hanji’s naked body against yours, the delicious smell of freshly made apple pie coming from the kitchen in the middle of the night.

At nights where you don’t dream about that life, you miss it. You miss being around your friends, being able to move around the trees as if you were flying, you miss her. Her deep, brown eyes are all you can think about and time slips away from you.

Once your morning routine is completed, you decide to go for a run in the park behind your house. Since the sun has been out for less than an hour, it shouldn’t be too busy and you’ll be able to enjoy some quiet time.

As the armband slides up your skin, a chilling sensation travels down your spine and nearly every particle of hair in your body rises, even though you can’t understand why. So you simply shake your head and push the feeling down.

Carefully, you select your favorite playlist and check to make sure your laces are tied but before you can actually look, your phone rings loudly in your ear nearly giving you a heart attack.

Without a second thought, you decline the call without even checking to see who it is and you make your way outside.

The cold breeze welcomes you and the sweet smell of the food cart in front of your house hits your nose. Usually after a run, you reward yourself with one of their delicious crepes and that is enough motivation for you to finish your jog.

At this time, the park is the most peaceful place in the city. No crying babies in their strollers or loud business men walking around on their phone, there is only you and maybe three more people.

Your favorite song comes on and you feel the energy pumping through your veins with every beat. It’s the perfect weather for a run and you silently enjoy the calm that washes over your body.

Your mind wanders back to your nightmares and you start to remember the better part of it. The times Hanji would take you to a secret picnic after she became commander or the makeout sessions in the janitors closet.

In some ways, you could even feel her warm skin against yours, her kiss-swollen lips attached to you by a string of saliva. It nearly feels as if you had lived throughout all of it, but it couldn’t be possible.

You’re so deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice the stick on the floor and, when you do, it’s too late and you’re already halfway towards the ground so all you can do is protect your face from the concrete.

The impact itself isn’t too painful but the humiliation is what stings the most. If only you hadn’t gotten that call before leaving your house, you would’ve remembered to tie your shoelaces and therefore they wouldn’t have gotten stuck on the stick on the floor.

This isn’t the first time the woman in your dreams has caused you trouble. In a few of your memories, she would make too much noise when you sneak out and the Commander would eventually catch you.

Ever since you were young and these dreams first started, you’ve been going to a therapist after the other in hopes of understanding what all of this means and why is it happening to you but all came to the same result: inconclusive.

No matter how many doctors you see, no one can understand why you have such vivid dreams about a war nobody has ever heard anything about or creatures that have never once been proven to exist.

With your ass on the ground, you notice you used the word “memories” instead of dreams and for a second you feel as if all air has been sucked out of your lungs by a massive vacuum.

You shake your head, pushing those feelings deep down inside of you and getting on your knee, preparing to tie your laces when a familiar perfume rushes by you.

It’s faint and quick, probably carried by the wind but enough for you to snap your head backwards. A comforting feeling settles in your chest, warm and fuzzy if you could describe it. That’s exactly how the woman from your dreams smelled like.

You notice a brunette in a bright yellow sports bra turning around a bush not too far away, but you can’t see if she’s wearing glasses or if she only has one eye, like Hanji did.

“Y/N don’t be ridiculous!” You say to yourself, standing up and brushing away the dirt from your clothes, “Hanji is not a real person, she’s like an imaginary friend.”

Forgetting all about your fall, you decide to resume your run. The pain in your foot forces you to go a bit slower than you are used to but nothing too serious.

Once you are done running your laps around the park and begin to make your way back home, a few drops of rain begin to fall on your skin, forcing you to rush home.

As you are eagerly awaiting for the crepe you’ve been dreaming about for hours, the owner of the small cart has a sad expression on his face.

“I’m fresh out of batter. My husband just went to grab some more, it should take a little longer than 45 minutes, I am so sorry Y/N.” He says and you sigh, a compassionate smile on your lips and you nod.

“You will save me the first one you make when he’s back right?” You ask and the man eagerly nods.

“Of course. With banana, strawberry and chocolate, right?”

And you laugh, knowing that the only reason why he knows your order so well is because his crepes have been your breakfast each morning since you first moved into this apartment.

Once you are done with the conversation, you rush up the stairs and immediately into the shower. With a washcloth you gently brush the dirt out of your bruised knee, quietly hissing as the burning sensation takes over.

Even though you know you aren’t supposed to do so, you pour hydrogen peroxide on top of the wound and a scream leaves your throat at every step of the way.

“Today really isn’t my day.” You say to yourself as you begin to wash your hair. A few specs of dirt fall to the ground and a prolonged sigh escapes your lips. Everything just seems to be going wrong: rain, no crepe, fell during a run, what’s next? Waiting in line at the coffee shop for over an hour?

As you stand in line, you realize you should have kept your mouth shut. Even though you ordered online, the amount of people surrounding the pick up area was beyond ridiculous and you were definitely getting late for work.

Once your turn finally comes, you thank silently in hopes that you will be able to actually make it in time. So with your chest out and happiness on your face, you loudly say over the many other voices, “Order for Y/N!”

The guy behind the counter looks confused as he checks every cup individually and you watch over him as he does so. He shoots you a sadden and a little annoyed look and you realize that the “Order” button never got pushed.

Your eyes fill with tears of frustration but you brush them away and take your phone out, repeating your online order to the barista on the register and they write it down perfectly.

Your eyes are glued to your phone’s screen while you wait for a message from your boss but the same comforting sensation you felt this morning is back again. Maybe it’s the smell of coffee that reminded you of the trips to Marley or the crowds of different people around, much like eldians and marleyans.

“I have to get this shit out of my brain.” You say, shaking your head and focusing on typing out a message to your friend, complaining and hoping that you won’t get fired today. You worked too hard to get this job and if they let you go over some 20 minute wait, you’ll raise hell on Earth.

“Order for Y/N?” A familiar voice says but you can’t identify from where.

So you walk to the counter, finally putting your phone away and counting the coffees. Your eyes land on the barista’s hand, who carries your regular order. You reach for it and in a split of a second, your hands touch.

The world around you seems to stop and so does your breathing. When you look at her, you realize she is the part of you that has been missing all along. She’s a real person and not a dream. You look at her nametag, just making sure you aren’t going insane and there it is. “Hanji Zoe”

In that minimal touch, you are bombarded by the emotions of a lifetime ago. The first day you met, the first titan experiment you had done together, the first kiss, the first time you’ve had to kill a titan because she would always get too damn close to being eaten alive.

But you are also reminded of the last meal you both ate, the last nose rub, the last time her lips touched yours, the last hand holding, the last breath you both took before you woke up where you are now.

And just like that, feelings you didn’t know were possible for you to have emerged from deep within your chest as if a box that has been sitting deep inside the closet has now just been opened. It even seems like the world has just gotten a bit more colorful.

Tears shine in your eyes as the coffee you just waited so long for hits the ground. With a smile on your face, you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her over the counter. It doesn’t take her more than a second to seal your lips together.

Her breath tastes like the hot chocolate she had earlier that day but it still manages to awaken butterflies that laid dormant in your stomach throughout your entire life. It’s not until your phone rings in your pocket that you are brought back to reality.

“I’m so late for work!” You smile at her and rush out of the store, the container with the other cups in your left hand.

“Wait!!” A voice screams from just outside the coffee shop and you immediately turn around to see Hanji, her hat in her hand as she comes closer to you. “I knew something was missing my entire life and….”

“And now I realize it was you.” You two say in perfect unison and she nods.

“Why don’t we start over? This time, without any titans around.” She asks and you smile.

“Hey, I’m Y/N.” You say, extending your hand.

“I’m Hanji Zoe and I would love to take you on a date sometime.” Hanji meets you in the middle, shaking your hand.

“I really have to go.” You say and a frown appears on her face, you have to fight the will to quit your job and start a nice, little life in the woods with her. Something you’ve always talked about but sadly never got to have.

“I’ll wait for you right here then.” She says, letting go of your hand slowly and you immediately touch the back of her head and bring her in for a long kiss while still managing to keep the cups in your hand still.

This time it was not a goodbye kiss. It was simply the second first kiss you’ve ever had with Hanji and hopefully, it will not be the last.

[hellcaster901]

Hiii can you do a smut & fluff #144 and #145 that leads into #165 and #173 (first prompt list) for pedro pascal?🤍 I was thinking maybe like a ‘reader woke up in the middle of the night and is bugging pedro’ troupe?🤍🤍

Of course!! I did change the slight ‘bugging Pedro troupe’ to being comforted by Pedro! I hope this works!!

Ask Me and Prompt List

The Nightmare

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

You gasped as you sat up, a light layer of sweat on your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. Whatever you were dreaming of, was enough to get your heartbeat rising, and enough to get you to wake up as if you just ran a 5k. You sat there, looking around your room, seeing the soft light from the moon peeking through the curtains shining brightly on the floor, the soft breeze from the cracked window moving the curtain lightly, chills running up your back as you felt the breeze touch your heated skin. 

The soft groaning of the door snapped you out of your daze, head whipping to the door, seeing the older man peeking through the crack. “You okay?” He spoke softly, pushing the door wider as he stepped in, leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. You took in what he was wearing, a soft t-shirt and shorts, bare legs crossed at the ankle, his eyes trained on you. You nodded softly, dragging your knees up to your chest. “You sure?” He raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his face. “Heard you twisting and turning from the guest room.” You groaned softly, closing your eyes, 

“Just a nightmare.” You mumbled, turning back to the window, eyes trained on the curtain as it moved again, as if some grabbed it and flicked it away. A soft creak from the floor rang through the room, hearing Pedro’s movements as he stepped into your room, closing the door behind him as he walked towards your bed. Pedro has always been a great friend of yours, being by your side ever since you met him. ANd much like now, you always had a place for him to stay if he ever came into town.

“Move over.” He whispered,nudging you with his hand. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, scooting to the side, feeling the bed dip as he sat down, leaning back onto your pillows, a hand behind his head. 

“what are you doing?” You mumbled, looking back at him, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Sticking with you, making sure you stop being such a baby.” He smirked, the slight teasing tone in his sleepy voice was enough to make you smile, already feeling yourself calm down as he laid there next to you. You rolled your eyes, flopping back onto the bed, head hitting the pillows next to him. “Go back to bed.” He spoke softly, turning his head towards you. You looked back at him, seeing that tired expression over his face. Whatever the dream was, it was far from your mind as you looked at him. There were always those feelings there for him, no matter how hard you tried to shove those feelings down, they always came back up.

You shifted on the bed, laying on your side as you looked at Pedro, a smile on his face as he watched you get comfortable, and he soon followed, turning on his side, facing you, a hand under his head supporting him. You smiled as he looked at you. “What?” You whispered. 

“What was your nightmare about?” He whispered back, his hand reaching up and tugging the blanket over your exposed shoulder. You tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine as you felt his finger tips brush against your skin. 

“I don’t know.” You mumbled, trying to rake your mind about what it could have been. “There was just... something horrible to it.” Another shiver running through your body as the breeze washed over you. Pedro noticed, adjusting himself as he lifted the blanket up, scooting closer to you as he nustled himself under the blanket. 

“Jesus, you’re cold.” He mumbled, his hand rubbing against your upper arm. You nodded, feeling your whole body heat up as he touched you. He scooted even closer, tugging you to him as he laid on his back, pulling you to his chest. “Is this okay?” He whispered, his breath tickling your ear. You took a deep breath, nodding as you settled against him, feeling his heat coat you in warmth. You tried to stop the rush of heat that went to your core as you laid against him, feeling his chest rise and fall. This was only as friends. Laying with him. He was comforting you as a friend. But the way your heart rate was picking up, more from him than the nightmare, you could not go back to sleep. 

The two of you laid there, the silence loud as he held you, a hand on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing small circles. No matter how long the two of you laid there, and no matter how long you kept your eyes shut, you couldn’t fall asleep, and you knew why. You looked up at Pedro, seeing that he was looking up at the ceiling, eyes blinking as he just stared. “What are you thinking about?” You mumbled to him. He looked down at you, taking in your sleepy form. 

“Everything.” He smiled, his fingers trailing softly along your arm that laid across his chest. The intimate touches make your heart flutter. “You?” 

“Everything.” You repeated back with a smile, your fingers messing with the hem of his shirt, fingers dipping into the neck line, softly grazing against his skin. You heard the hitch in his breath as you touched his skin, your eyes following your fingers as you traced random shapes along his skin. You felt as if every place on your body that he was touching was on fire, the hand on your arm, the hand on your back, you felt as if you were burning up underneath the blanket with him. And you were sure he felt the same. The way the hand on your back grabbed you a little harder, almost tugging you closer. A line was being crossed. Maybe that line was crossed when he first got into your bed, but there was no going back. The beating of your heart was thumping against your ribs, goosebumps rising on your skin as the hand on your back slowly lifted your shirt up, his warm hand sprawled across your soft skin, nails softly digging into your skin. You looked back up at him, finding that his eyes were already on you, the tension rising in the room. “Pedro…” You spoke softly, but he knew exactly what you meant.

He reached for you, cupping the back of your head, pulling you slightly towards him as he leaned down. It felt as if time stopped as you leaned forward, meeting him halfway, when finally his lips touched yours. It was hesitant, lips moving against one another, both of you so unsure of what was happening. You pulled away, feeling his breath fan along your lips, nose bumping against one another. Your eyes fluttered open, seeing his eyes were already opened, staring back at you. The line was crossed, and neither of you cared. 

You leaned back up, lips crashing together, his hand slipping into your hair, grabbing against the roots, keeping you close as you tasted him. He groaned softly as you clenched his shirt, lips passionately moving, a bit more urgency as the two of you held one another. Pedro grinned against your lips, holding you as if you were going to slip from his hands. He kissed you harder, deeper as he held you, his hands leaving trails of fire as he touched you. “Pedro.” You moaned against his lips, feeling him moan in response to your sounds. You molded against him, as if your whole body was melting as he touched you. He moaned your name, hands grabbing you greedly. 

You were completely mesmerized by him, the way it felt as if his hands were made to be touching you, his whole body pulling you in. He reached down, a hand grabbing at your waist, brushing against the slope of your ass, grabbing the plump flesh of your thighs, pulling it up and over his waist. You gasp softly, feeling your clothed core brushed against his thigh. His hand tightened on your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh as he felt your thigh brush against the tent in his shorts, hips bucking softly at the feeling. “I’m sorry.” He gasped, pulling away from you, resting his forehead against yours as you tried to catch your breath, a soft smile on your face as you Pedro did the same. You shook your head, speechless as he caressed your body. You gasped softly as the hand on your back moved, feeling up your back, a soft groan coming from Pedro as he felt that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Jesus.” He mumbled to himself, pulling you against him, practically on top of him as your chest pressed against his. 

“Pedro.” You whimpered softly, feeling your sensitive nipples brush against the fabrics, sending electricity through your body. 

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” He mumbled, seeing the way you reacted to him barely touching you. Your reactive body only spurring him on to keep touching you. You nodded, feeling as if you were in a haze, a lustful haze as he continued to touch you. You bit your bottom lip,taking initiative as you pushed yourself up, swinging a leg over his hips, hair falling around your shoulders as you looked down at the blissful man. Pedro stared in amazement as you settled yourself on him, a soft gasp leaving both of your lips as you brushed against the large tent, feeling yourself getting wetter as you continued. 

His hands moved up your legs, squeezing at your hips, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you bucked at the feeling, brushing against his length. “We don’t have to.” He whimpered, swallowing as you grinded against him. You shook your head, planting your hands on his chest as you leaned down, kissing his chin as you moved down. You felt the way his body simply melted beneath you. 

“I want to.” you mumbled against his neck, dragging your lips across his skin, tasting him as you continued your assault. He groaned and moaned into your ear, hips bucking against yours as you nipped at his ear. Your reassurance and lips were enough to get Pedro going. 

“Lay back.” He growled, grabbing your hips and flipping the two of you over. You fell back with a small huff, a smile on your face as Pedro settled himself between your legs, leaning back on his knees. You felt the tightness in your stomach as you watched him cross his arms, grabbing the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head, a soft shudder leaving your lips as he fell back on you, lips smashing against yours. He was desperate, needing to take what he could from you, what he wanted from you for so long, and now that you were here, in his arms, willing to give yourself to him, he was going to take everything he could. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling the muscles in his back flex as he held himself above you, a groan coming from deep in his chest as he felt your fingers dig into him. You were a trembling mess in his hands, your body so responsive to his touch. “God, I’ve wanted you since forever.” He hummed, pulling away from you, staring down at your heaving body. Your face was flushed, mouth parted as you took deep breaths, hair sprawled on the pillow beneath you. He swore, you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. 

He looked down, hooking a finger underneath your shirt, tugging it suggestively. “Can I?” He smirked, knowing your answer already. You nodded, your mouth dry. “Use your words.” He chuckled. 

“Yes Pedro.” You breathed, goosebumps rising on your skin as you felt his hands brush against your skin, lifting the shirt up. You bit your bottom lip, sitting up, letting him pull the shirt off of you, feeling the cool breeze rush to your warm skin. You shivered, laying back, seeing the look of pure admiration as he stared down at you. 

“Take a picture.” You smirked, finger the waistband of his shorts, noticing the large bulge. He broke out in a large smile.

It felt as if time really did stop as he fell back on you, kissing every part of skin that was exposed, hands grabbing at your waist, lips leaving his mark all over you as you whimpered and moaned against him. “I can’t wait to have you.” He growled, fingers hooking into your sleeping pants, shoving the fabric down your legs. “Let me have you.” 

“Yes, yes, yes.” you begged, kicking the pants off your legs. You were drunk on his touch, mind hazy as you tried to focus on everything that he was doing, his mouth, the way his mouth felt, feeling how incredibly soaked you were. It was all so much. Having that nightmare was the best thing that could have happened. 

He touched you delicately, almost as if you were going to break under his touch. But he was just wanting to take this in, feeling how soft you were, feeling the way you arched to his touch. He kissed down your neck, hearing your sweet whimpers. “I gotta have you.” he growled again, kissing down your chest, soft lips wrapping around one of your peaked nipples. You weaved your hands into his shaggy hair, head thrown back as you felt his tongue flick at your sensitive nipple, teeth lightly scraping against the skin. 

“Take your pants off, now.” You choked, feeling him smile against your breast as he did what you asked. You needed him more than you ever needed anyone in your whole life. “I need you, please.” You begged, feeling him shift between your legs, kicking the shorts off the bed, grabbing a hold of your thighs. You whimpered as he lifted your legs, spreading them as he seated himself between them. He was staring down at your soaked pussy, licking his lips as he spread you even more for his eyes. 

“Jesus.” He moaned, gasping your name softly, slipping a hand between your thighs, two fingers slipping between your soaked folds before circling around your clit. You cried as you bucked against his fingers, hips moving as he teased you, gathering your juices on his finger, watching the way you clenched around nothing as he lightly teased your hole. “You’re so wet, is this what I did to you?” He teased, a soft mocking tone in his voice.

“Please, Pedro.” You whined, seeing that smirk on his face. You couldn’t handle the teasing, especially after all this time, all you needed was him. 

“You have a condom?” he smirked, leaning down, placing soft kisses along your face as he teased you, thick fingers slipping between your tight walls. 

“I… uh…” You moaned, not a single thought was in your mind as your body focused on the pleasure, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against that soft spot within you.

“Words, gorgeous.” He smiled, watching the way your face contorted to his touches, mouth gaped, eyes shut tight.

“No.” You smiled softly, hearing him groan against your lips. “I’m clean, I’m on the pill.” you gasped, feeling his fingers move faster, the obscene wetness filling the air. “Just fuck me already.”

“I can’t say no to you.” He slipped his fingers from you, a soft cry leaving your lips at the loss feeling, watching as he coated his cock with you juices, pumping softly, You stared down in complete awe at his size. He was bigger than most you have been with, his cock was long and thick, the head a dark red, already leaking precum as he pumped himself. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words were soon gone as you felt the push of the head of his cock against your entrance. 

“Fuck.” He growled, a hand reaching down and grabbing your shaking thigh, his cock splitting you open. He took his time, watching the way you slowly took his cock, inch by inch, he was sinking into your tight walls. “Fuck Y/N.” He growled again, watching the way your hips rose, trying to take more and more of him in. You felt absolutely spent already as he held you there, grabbing your thighs, and lifting them even higher, getting a better look at your puffy lips taking his cock. 

“Jesus Christ, Pedro.” A breathless chuckle leaving your lips, feeling fuller than ever, his cock hitting deep within you, feeling as if you could feel it in your throat. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck” You cried softly into the air, feeling him fully seated within you. He stopped, letting you adjust to him, staring down as you took deep breaths. He tried his best not to bust right there as you adjusted to his size, hips wiggling against his hips, soft breathless moans as he felt you clench around his cock. You looked absolutely gorgeous full of his cock as you laid there. 

“Jesus, stop that.” He chuckled breathlessly, dropping his head to your shoulder, trying his best not to stop fucking you into the bed. 

“You’re so big.” You smiled, already feeling that blissed out feeling covering your body. Pedro barely even moved, but the feeling of his cock alone was enough to make you feel so dumb. He choked out a moan as he felt you tighten around him again, hips involuntarily grinding against yours, the head of his cock bumping against that sweet spot once again. You gasped loudly, hips bucking at the pressure, Pedro’s hand coming down to grab your hip. 

“You keep doing that, I’m not going to last.” He whispered into your ear, leaving a soft kiss against your ear lobe. You giggled softly, hands holding onto his biceps, leaving your own kisses along his shoulder. 

“You can move.” you whispered against him, and he did, slowly dragging his cock from your walls, pulling until the tip was tight between your walls, before grinding back into you. A high pitched moan left your lips, full of desperation as you felt his cock practically break you in half. Pedro felt it too, the way your pussy practically choked his cock as he slowly moved against you, not wanting to overwhelm you with being too rough. 

“Y/N, you feel like heaven.” He groaned, rolling his hips against yours. You only responded with soft gasps and moans, small ‘more’ and ‘yes please’ as dragged his cock against your tight walls. You could tell he wanted more, you could tell that he was holding back, with the way he held your hip, the way he huffed against your neck when you clenched around him. You lifted your legs, hooking them around his hips, pressing a soft kiss where his shoulder met his neck.

“I can take it.” You hummed, hearing the choked moan as he nodded against you. “I want it.” you smiled, pressing more kisses along his shoulder. If he wasn’t careful, those words would have been enough to make him bust right there.

“You’re going to kill me.” He moaned into your neck, bracing himself against you as he began thrusting harder. His cock practically split you in half as you laid there. 

“Oh my god, Pedro.” You cried, fingers digging into his biceps as his hips slammed against yours, choked moans and groans as he felt you tighten around him. You tight velvet walls sucking him in more and more. He glanced down between your bodies, trying not to focus on the sweet noises you made, knowing if he focused just enough, he could cum in you with just the sounds of your moans. He was in awe as he stared down at where you were joined, his cock slipping in and out, his cock glistening with your juices as he pulled out, his cock twitching at the sight. 

You rolled your hips, meeting each of his thrusts, your pussy clenching around him as he gave you a hard thrust, a soft high pitched moan leaving your lips. You were close, your thighs shaking around his hips, your lower stomach tightening. Pedro smirked, feeling the way your body tensed around him. He turned his head, nose brushing against your cheek, lips leaving a sloppy kiss as he pulled back just an inch, nose brushing against yours as he huffed against your lips. “You feel so good.” he whispered, kissing your lips softly, a contrast to his hard thrusts. You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything, but he wasn’t letting you off that easily. He weaved a hand into your hair, keeping you in place, as if you were going anywhere, keeping his eyes on your blissed face. “Tell me how good it feels.” 

“Pedro-” You gasped, toes curling, trembling against him as you grew closer, your once soft moans growing desperate.

“Tell me, and then you’ll cum.” He smirked. 

“You feel amazing.” You cried, feeling your whole body tense, clinging to Pedro as he moaned at your breathy words. “Your cock is so big. I feel so full.” 

“Fuck, come on.” He grunted, thrusting hard, needing to see you come loose around him. Your body arched against him, peaked breasts brushing against his chest, your whole body spazzing against him as that heat and tightness in your stomach rose and tightened until finally it felt as if your whole body was breaking beneath him. Pedro watched as you came, loud moans and cries of his name as you came around him. And that was it. 

“God damn it.” Pedro growled, slamming his hips against yours, his cock twitching within your walls. He gritted his teeth, head dropping back onto your shoulder, feeling his cock plunge deep within you before ropes and ropes of cum filled you up. You sighed happily as you felt him cum, filling you up even more, thrusting deeply as he rode his high out, your name leaving his lips like a prayer. 

Your whole body felt weightless as you relaxed, feeling the weight of the man rest on you, his own ragged breath fanning across your shoulder and neck. 

“I’m glad I had that nightmare.” You whispered.