#i don't know if i can put the ointment i have on my face

[little-eye-guy]

i'll be real if my psoriasis hadn't come back i would be handling this a lot better but as it stands i can barely hear, i'm itching, my face is unimaginably dry (<- place that did not have psoriasis before)

i keep waiting for my joints to get bad too. every small ache i think this is it i'm done for

[bi-writes]

ok simon and his mail order bride live rent-free in my head now and, like, what i wanna know is what their anniversaries look like? not just their one year anniversary, but also their fifth or tenth? how does it change as they settle into that deep comfortability that comes with being with someone a long time? -391780

this piece i still consider canon mail-order bride, but i see it almost as an extra than a continuation of the current story since it is very much in the future of that timeline. <3

mail-order bride

it's difficult to see the potential of something so mangled. sometimes things are so worn out and so used that they don't reflect what their purpose was. instead of function, they see flaw. instead of value, they see waste.

sometimes you wonder if that's what they saw in you. sometimes you wonder if that's why you were given to him.

that's what they made him. simon was a tortured dog they let loose. they saw value, but only what was left, and perhaps they thought something like you might help them squeeze just that little bit more out of him. one more year. one more op.

the sunlight wakes you up. you forgot to pull the blinds, but when you see simon sleeping peacefully next to you, it's worth it to be up so early. you know as soon as you move, he will wake, so you keep still for just a few more minutes.

today marks ten. he doesn't look much older. he seems to have stopped aging ever since you asked him to put in his papers.

like always, as soon as you sit up, simon blinks awake. he's bleary, but conscious, and when your eyes meet, you smile at him. he lifts his big hand and rubs your back gently. you don't speak any words so early in the morning, but you don't have to. there isn't much to say when the love of your life loves you, and you love them back.

you push the blankets off, giggling when you reveal the black and orange balls of fur that blink up at you. they almost seem irritated that you interrupted their sleep, snuggled in the heat that simon radiated. they'll just have to deal with it.

you drag your hand down simon's leg wordlessly. you hear his deep breaths from behind, and you reach into your bedside table to press a little balm into your hand before spreading the ointment across his knee and under it. you work it into the muscles nice and slow; any faster, and simon will hitch his breath in pain, and you'll have to start over.

you kiss his knee before laying back down, settling into his side, and you lift up your left hand, wiggling your fingers knowingly at him before looking up towards his face. he smiles down at you sleepily, raising his hand to cup your fingers.

"still love me?" you ask softly, and simon pretends to think about.

"mmm..." he rumbles. "still love ya."

"but do you still like me?"

"more everyday."

the first few years were spent trying to play catch-up. fancy dinners, expensive gifts, handwritten letters that could've been novels to try and stuff the love you have for each other all in one night. they were all wonderful; you think about those nights all the time, and you cherish the gifts he's given you like they are a part of you, but today feels different.

today might not be just another day, but it's just as special as yesterday. and the day before that. and the day before that.

when it's time to really wake up, you let simon guide you. he walks easy, barely a limp, and he sits you down at your vanity to help you do your hair as you add your serums and moisturizers. he's good with that brush, running it through gently, parting your hair the way you like so he can tie it up. he'd braid your hair if you asked him to (he said it wasn't unlike all the knots he knows how to tie--and he meant it, no one dutch braids like him), but you know your show came out last night, and you want to watch them with the scones you have proofing in the fridge.

he makes the coffee and tea while you set the scones in the oven. you fill the cat's bowls while he cleans out the water fountain. it's wordless, the morning routine, but you like the times when you brush by him. when your arm runs against his. when your hands bump going for the same cabinet. when he leans down as he passes you, kissing along your jaw before he keeps walking.

bliss. fucking bliss.

he's waiting for you in the living room once you pull the scones out of the oven. your coffee sits on the table on its coaster, in your favorite mug, and he's under your blanket as he flips through the tv. he already knows what you'll want to watch, and you bite back your smile when you notice him typing it into the search bar because he didn't see it when he scrolled past (you keep telling him to wear his glasses, but he'll never listen).

you take a seat next to him, thumbing at his cheek, and he takes a scone off the plate before biting into it. he smiles when he tastes chocolate, looking at you knowingly, and you reach for his hand as you settle against his chest.

you used to be mangled, too. a mess. pretty on the outside, dying on the inside. all fried wires, a traumatized animal, learned behavior of relieve and appease that kept you out of trouble and out of sight.

you have never seen simon this way. and simon has never seen you this way. no hopeless potential. no wasted space. no diminishing value.

i matter because you matter. you matter because i matter.

hidden, not broken. disguised, not incomplete. you did not have jagged edges, only armor that you tried to put up to protect yourself.

you tip your head back to look up at him, and when he cups your jaw to stare back at you, you're relieved by what you see in his eyes.

ten years. it will be nothing like forever. it will be nothing like your next life, nor like the life after that. it's comforting to know what home looks like. maybe you will recognize it the way you recognized it in this life.

no, that can't be it.

you recognized it because it had already happened. in some other time, in some other place, you were sitting where you sit now, looking at simon the way you look at him now.

you knew who he was before you even met him, and you will know who he is when you meet him again.

[snowsinterlude]

overprotective, lovesick, deranged.

(yandere coriolanus x reader)

summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.

if i can't have you, no one can.

trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.

"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"

overprotective.

coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.

lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.

when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.

valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.

coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.

you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.

when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.

"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."

you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.

you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.

"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."

and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.

lovesick.

with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.

it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.

maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.

it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?

well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.

why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?

he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.

for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?

coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.

once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.

"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.

"yes?"

"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.

but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you

"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."

he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.

you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.

it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.

but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.

"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"

"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.

your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.

"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.

"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.

"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"

your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.

"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.

"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.

you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.

dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.

"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"

you shook your head, panic taking over you.

"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.

your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.

"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."

you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.

"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.

you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.

you were doomed.

deranged.

his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.

you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.

you still loved him after all, who would know?

not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.

"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.

"i do."

"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.

"i do."

you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.

that's what love is about.

[nerdlvr]

nipple piercings .

(MINORS DNI)

pt.2 !

ot7 x reader , nipple play / breast play , inspired by this request

you had just gotten home from a girls day with your best friend, meaning you were worn out, oh and in pain. you and your friend had agreed to do something a little wild and get piercings together, turns out wild to your friend meant to get her belly button pierced, maybe you should've stuck with her idea of wild. now as you looked into the mirror you saw your nipples, swollen and sore, a cute shiny bar pierced right through them. you winced as you brought your hands up to touch them. why did you think this was a good idea?

on top of the pain your phone wouldn't stop ringing your groupchat notifications coming in one after the other.

hyuckie bear! : hellooo is y/n coming i'm only going if she is

junnie 💛 : no seriously why would i willingly hang out with a group of men

nana 🫂 : of course she's coming she always does guysss don't be lame we haven't had movie night in agessss 🥺

my 94 🎸: y/nnnn respond pleaseeee are you coming???

ji bug 👩‍🍼 : y/nnn i just broke my legssss ITS AN EMERGENCYY

puppy 💋 : the way she doesn't care 😭😭

big head baby 💞 : whatever losers i'm calling her

your phone began to ring, chenle's profile pic of him stuffing his face with marshmallows shining on the screen.

"yes chenle, what is it?"

you could hear him giggling to someone on the other end,

"y/n, y/n hellooo, are you coming? we have movie night remember?"

you let out a sigh as you slumped down into your bed,

"uh, i don't know lele i'm kinda tired tonight, can we reschedule?"

you could practically see his reaction from the sound of his voice,

"what? no way! you know we all have have midterms soon, and then it's just studying studying studying, we won't get to see you! tell her ji!"

he passed the phone to jisung,

"y/n can you come please, we miss you, i miss you, just for one movie okay? and then jeno can drive you home!"

you heard jeno in the background yell something along the lines of, i didn't agree to that! and chenle shushing him before grabbing the phone again,

"okay well haechan's on his way! see you soon!"

he hung up before you could answer, leaving you staring at your phone screen. it's just a couple hours right? and you won't get to see the boys again after a while so, maybe you should just go, who knows you might have fun.

.

your outfit was comfortable, not by choice of course, but comfortable nonetheless. you put on your largest tee, praying the material wouldn't graze your nipples, making sure to apply some ointment before leaving, hoping that it would soothe the soreness. so far, not so good. but you were already at jisung and chenle's shared dorm, sitting cross legged on the couch.

you had avoided the greetings as best as you could, resorting to a quick kiss on the cheek instead of your usual hug. thankfully nobody questioned it, boys just happy to see you.

the dorm started filling up, only haechan missing as you all sat around the tv, scrolling through the movie options on netflix. jaemin sat next to you, head on your shoulder as he scrolled through his phone. he sniffed loudly, head coming up to put his nose close to your neck,

you looked down at him, wondering what was wrong. he giggled at you, as he placed his head back on your shoulder,

"weird, you smell like ointment."

you chuckled nervously, did you overdue it with the cream?

"oh uh, yeah, just have some muscle soreness, doctor gave me some cream for it."

he hummed, turning his focus back to his phone. mark scooted in next to you, offering you some popcorn. you thanked him as you took a handful, a grimace on your face as you tasted the snack.

"mark, why do you always put too much salt."

his eyes widened as he tried the popcorn himself,

"dude, i swear i just put a tiny bit!"

you flinched as a pair of large hands grabbed your shoulders from behind,

"put a tiny bit of what? did mark put too much salt in the popcorn again?"

you turned your head, not surprised to see that haechan was the one making fun of mark. he leaned down to give you a quick peck on the cheek before walking around the couch to find a seat.

"sorry i'm late guys, traffic is a bitch."

renjun walked into the living room, ruffling his wet hair,

"nobody cares, wait, you don't even drive?"

haechan motioned for jaemin to move over so he could squeeze in next to you, rolling his eyes at renjun's comment.

"buses also get stuck in traffic you know!"

you all laughed as renjun called haechan a name, before everyone turned their attention to the tv, everyone but haechan that is.

"hi baby, gonna give me a proper hello or do i have to beg?"

you side eyed haechan, used to his antics.

"you already said hello, remember?"

you pointed at your cheek where he pecked you earlier.

"i meant a real hello, like a hug, come here."

before you could protest haechan's arms wrapped around you pulling you into a hug.

"wait, hyuck, wait, OW!"

haechan quickly let go of you, confused by your sudden reaction,

"i'm sorry, are you okay, did i hurt you?"

everyone's attention was now on you and haechan, waiting to see if you were okay.

"oh yeah, my bad, just kinda have sore muscles."

you brought your hand up to hold your arm, pretending to have pain there. you heard jeno chuckle from his seat on the floor in front of you.

"sore? from what? you're going to the gym now?"

you pushed his head, offended by his mocking tone,

"for your information lee jeno, i do actually-OW!"

you flinched, hands coming up to cover your breasts. you turned to see jaemin leaned over haechan reaching forward towards your chest. he giggled before turning his head to look at haechan, arm still stretched out towards you,

"see i told you, it's her nipples that are sensitive."

you slapped his arm away, before wrapping you arms over your breasts again.

"what the hell jaemin! have you lost your mind?"

he blushed slightly leaning back away from haechan, sitting up in his seat now.

"sorry. i just noticed, when i smelled you, you have, like, your, you know-"

he pointed to his chest,

"i saw the piercings through your shirt."

the boys eyes widened as they all turned to face you.

"piercings?"

you rolled your eyes at them,

"sometimes, it's better to mind your business, i don't need to tell you guys everything i do with my life, so what i pierced my nipples, can we hurry up and pick a movie?"

jeno turned to look at you, now on his knees in front of you, hands on your thighs,

"you actually got them pierced?"

you suddenly felt shy as you looked at jeno, a soft look on his face.

"well yeah, it was a last minute thing."

chenle scooted over on the floor towards jeno, facing you.

"did it hurt?"

you laughed at his question,

"of course it hurt lele, it still hurts now."

jisung gulped as he walked over towards where the guys had now huddled around you,

"can we see-ouch!"

he rubbed the back of his head where renjun had hit him,

"jisung you can't just ask to see her tits!"

jisung ducked his head, a blush painting his ears,

"uh only if you want of course, i'm just kinda curious."

haechan nodded his head quickly hand coming up to hold your arm,

"me too, i wanna see too."

you looked up at all of them, their eyes shiny and cheeks pink as they waited for your response.

"do you guys want to, like actually?"

they all nodded quickly, embarassingly quickly. mark letting out a cough,

"but only if you want, like ji said."

you bit your lip as you reached for the hem of your shirt. these guys had been your friends for years what's the harm in just letting them get a peek, just a peek.

you lifted your shirt up, gasping lightly as the cool air hit your nipples. all their jaws dropped as they stared at your breasts. nipples perked up and shiny from the ointment. haechan was the first to speak,

"can i touch them?"

you let out a soft yes before you could process that you were letting one of your best friends, touch your tits. but any form of regret immediately disappeared as you felt haechan's large hands cup your breasts, thumb coming up to lightly play with the metal jewelry. you winced at the slight pain. jeno quickly reaching forward to gently remove haechan's hands.

"be gentle hyuck, can't you see they're swollen."

his hands replaced hyuck's, larger and firmer, slightly fondling your breasts before his fingers moved to rub around your nipple. you let out a sigh, the pain from before slowly fading away as jeno massaged your sore breasts.

"yeah? that feel good baby?"

you hummed in response, biting back a moan as the feeling of jeno's hands on your breasts began to cause some tension in your core. you squeezed your thighs together hoping none of them noticed the heat radiating off your body.

mark moved his hand in between your legs, lightly massaging the inside of your thigh.

"this okay?"

you nodded, scared of how your voice would sound if you spoke.

"alright that's enough jen my turn."

jaemin got on his knees in front of you, pushing jeno aside. his hands came up to hold your breasts, slightly squeezing them in his palms before bringing two fingers to gently pinch at your nipples. you sucked in a breath trying to move away from his grasp, when you felt someone's hands brush your hair back, collecting it in his hands, exposing your neck.

"relax baby, we'll be gentle. right jaemin?"

renjun gave the boy between your legs a stern look before gently kissing your neck, nuzzling the spot with his nose after.

mark and chenle on opposite sides of you reached forward, each of them gently massaging one of your thighs before gently pulling them apart, slowly moving their hands inward.

jisung came down to kneel next to jaemin dipping his head towards you exposed tummy, planting light kisses on the sides of your waist, tickling your skin.

you felt a warm breath against your ear, looking over at haechan as he lowered his hand to grip at his bulge,

"tell us when to stop, and we promise we'll leave you alone."

you heard jeno chuckle as he reached forward to undo the bow on your sleeping shorts.

"even though i doubt you'll tell us to stop."

renjun tutted above you,

"play nice boys, we're gonna have to learn to share, right?"

thank goodness you didn't get the belly piercing.

.

DOCTOR SHE'S OUT AGAIN, guys i'm not okay ot7 smut??? who have i become???

[steddiealltheway]

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Steve's knee bounces up and down as he stares at Eddie's near-lifeless form. He doesn't know how long he's been here, memories flashing through his head that he's tried to will away. But it's hard when he knows that this is all his fault. 

He's the reason Eddie's in this hospital bed. 

-:-:-:- 

Steve bounced his leg to the beat that pierced through the trailer. He smiled at Eddie who laughed manically over the crazy-sounding song. 

Eddie turned the knob down slightly and yelled over the music, "You don't have to pretend to like this!" 

Steve just shook his head. "Turn it up louder. I like the way it clears my thoughts." 

Eddie cranked the knob even higher and jumped on his mattress, jostling Steve who just laughed in response and stood up to join Eddie in some crazy dance. 

For once, Steve felt free. He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to be here. But he came up with excuses as he wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders, slotting them closer together. 

That's why he was there, right? He needed to play the game Eddie didn't know about. 

-:-:-:- 

"Steve." 

He's shaken out of his thoughts by Robin's hand on his shoulder. He glances at her momentarily before looking back at Eddie. He can't let him out of his sight. 

"Steve, you need to eat. Even his uncle has taken a break from watching over him." 

Steve knows that Robin's confused, he can hear it in her voice. Maybe it's time he finally told her but first, "Please, let me wait until someone else can watch over him." 

"Dustin's in the hall. The hospital is still standing by their two visitors at a time policy, but he can watch over him while you eat." 

Steve's eyes don't leave Eddie's chest which slowly moves up and down. "Why can't we eat in the room?" 

Robin moves to kneel down in front of him. "Steve, you have to leave this room, okay? You need to shower and rest and eat and breathe fresh air. Please, we're all so worried about you. Dustin's already partially lost Eddie, we can't lose you, too." 

Steve pries his eyes away to look at Robin. He nods. He can feel a small ache in the pit of his stomach and a heavy pull on his eyelids. "I need to tell you something." 

Robin grabs his hands nodding. He's not sure when she started crying, but a slow tear rolls down her face following a trail of already smeared mascara. Steve quietly says, "This is all my fault. I'm the reason he's here." He feels his bottom lip quiver before he fully breaks, his loud sobs joining in with the steady beeping of the monitor. 

Robin stands and pulls him out of the chair, letting him bury his head into her shoulder. "It's not your fault the bats got him, Steve. It's not your fault." 

"Y-You don't understand," Steve sobs out as Robin pulls him in tighter. 

-:-:-:- 

Steve's lip quivered as he gripped onto Eddie's shoulders tightly. "I'm so sorry." 

Eddie shook his head as he stared at him blinking, still slightly panting. "I don't understand." 

Of course he didn't understand. He didn't know the terrible thing he was doing. Steve knew this was it. He needed to leave. 

Forever. 

-:-:-:- 

The hospital halls are bright, and the sun is even brighter. Everything is brighter than Steve remembers. It doesn't feel right. 

Robin manages to get him to his home, shoving him into the bathroom with a towel and a stack of clothes. After he gets out, she hands him fresh bandages and his prescribed ointment for the damn bat wounds. 

She manages to convince him to eat a few bites of a grilled cheese she made along with some tomato soup she found in his pantry. Steve eats on autopilot while Robin sits next to him on his couch, eating in silence. 

When Steve finishes half his sandwich, he puts his tray down on his coffee table and turns to Robin. "Do you promise not to hate me after I tell you this? 

Robin chews as a line forms between her eyebrows. She swallows but pauses for a few seconds. "I'm your best friend. I'm going to love you no matter what." 

"You don't understand," Steve says shaking his head, "There's a reason I never told you this before." 

"Told me what?" Robin prompts. 

Steve swallows. "At the beginning of junior year, Tommy and Carol had heard some rumor that senior Eddie Munson was gay. And for some reason, I couldn't let the idea go. So, I suggested that we should play a prank on him... And that I should..." He sighs and puts his head in his hands. 

Robin's hand trails over his back. 

Steve continues in a rush, "I told them I should pretend to be into him." 

Robin's hand freezes on his back, and Steve hears her slightly gasp. 

Steve looks up at her. "That isn't even the worst part." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve smirked when he saw Eddie in the back of his English class scribbling something in his notebook. He had crafted a plan at lunch the day before with Tommy and Carol. It would be easy. 

Steve made his way to the back of the classroom and sat next to Eddie, making a show of digging through his backpack and not being able to find something. He looked up at Eddie and smiled politely. "You wouldn't happen to have a pencil would you?" 

Eddie stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and shock at the concept of Steve Harrington acknowledging him. He glanced down at his notebook and stared at it as if he was apologizing to it. Then, Eddie handed him the pencil out of his hand. 

Steve winked as he said, "Thanks." 

The other boy didn't say anything, he just nodded. 

Steve noticed that he didn't reach for his bag for another pencil as more people filtered into the room. Steve leaned across the way and quietly asked, "Don't you have another one?" 

Eddie shook his head. "I don't really take notes. Just sketch or plan stuff." 

"He speaks," Steve said with a big smile. "What are those sketches?" 

Eddie shifted in his seat and looked Steve up and down before turning his sketches his way. "Creatures and shit from Dungeons and Dragons." 

Honestly, they looked really cool. Steve didn't know that people could actually draw like that. His friends were always more athletic than artistic. "That's really cool," Steve said genuinely. 

"Thanks," Eddie breathed out, turning the book back toward himself as if he were trying to hide it. 

Steve stared at him for a few seconds before he handed his pencil back. 

"Are you sure you don't need it?" Eddie asked, hesitating to take it back. 

Steve nodded, digging into the pouch where he kept several pencils. "I'm sure," he said with another big smile before leaning across the aisle again. "You should show me more of your drawings sometime. And hey, it's Eddie, right?" 

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed as he nodded. "Yeah." 

Steve stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "Steve." 

"I know," Eddie replied but he shook his hand nonetheless. 

Steve ignored the way the touch made him feel like he suddenly couldn't breathe. Instead, he focused on the way he had already made progress in his game. 

-:-:-:- 

"Okay, so you flirted with him a little and led him on a bit." 

"No," Steve insists, "It was more than just the classroom interactions. I went full-on crazy. I would watch him at lunch and make sure he knew that I was watching. I even changed my route to class to make sure I would bump into him in the hallway. Hell, I went as far as to try to change my locker so it was closer to his." In hindsight, he should've known that was going too far. But in the moment, it felt like he needed to get as close as possible to Eddie Munson. 

Robin shifts to tuck her knees to her chest. She looks at him carefully as she asks, "Did you... enjoy seeing him?" 

Steve shrugs, not sure what she's getting at. 

Robin only frowns slightly before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "I mean, did you have a crush on him." 

"No," Steve says immediately, feeling the same guard come up as it always does when he asks himself the question. Or when someone else has asked him that question... 

-:-:-:- 

"I swear you like the queer or something," Tommy sneered at the lunch table as Carol laughed loudly. 

Steve pulled his eyes away from Eddie and firmly stated, "It's not like that." 

"Really? Because you're looking at him like you want to sample whatever the freak will give you." 

Steve's hands flexed under the table. He didn't know why he was so angry at the accusation. "It's not like that," Steve repeated lowly.  

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Carol asked with a twisted grin. 

He knew they were trying to get under his skin about it, and as much as he didn't want to let them know they got to him, he couldn't stand what they were implying. "Fuck you," he said and stormed out of the cafeteria. He could hear Tommy’s and Carol's grating laughter as he left, furthering his damn anger.  

He stormed into the bathroom and checked that all the stalls were clear before he sat on the nasty floor and put his head in his hands. 

He didn't know why the question got to him so much because it really wasn’t like that. He didn't like Munson. The whole point of getting closer to him was to trick Munson into liking him. 

He started to think that maybe that wasn't so funny anymore. 

The door to the bathroom opened and shut quickly, a lock twisted and closed Steve in with whoever came in. 

He slowly looked up, embarrassed by being caught in this state, but he became even more so when he saw it was Eddie who had followed him. 

"You okay?" Eddie's asked gently, keeping his distance. 

Steve sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "My friends are assholes." 

Eddie snorted in response which caught Steve off-guard. "Sorry," Eddie said with a smile, "It's just that everyone knows that. Or maybe I just especially know that." 

"Then why are you here?" Steve asked, but the question sounded a little too harsh even to him. 

Eddie shrugged then walked over to Steve and slid down the bathroom wall to join him on the floor. "You've been uncharacteristically kind to me these past few weeks. I couldn't be sure that you weren't in a hostage situation," he joked.  

Steve was surprised to find that the joke put him at ease and even made him smile. He smiled further when he saw the way Eddie relished the fact that he cheered him up. 

"Hey," Eddie said as he scooted closer to him. "I've got this secret lunch spot where I usually deal, but it's also great if you need a space away from people. I can show it to you tomorrow." 

Steve's heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the suggestion, filled with nerves and excitement at the thought of spending actual alone time with Eddie. "I'd really like that." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve sighs and looks at Robin who he knows would love and support him no matter what feelings he confesses. He breathes out, "Maybe I did like him like that." 

Robin gives him a sad smile and rests her hand on his.  

"He and I would eat lunch together every Tuesday and Thursday in this little spot in the woods that had a picnic bench and everything. And I started looking forward to those days and when I would pass him in the hall and our class together. God, I just wanted to be around him all the time. He was like my best friend at the time."  

"So, what happened?" 

Steve pinches his lips together and shakes his head. "I kept leading him on. I would report things to Tommy and Carol and they would laugh at him and call him so many damn names. God, then it spread to the whole basketball team because Tommy can't shut his damn mouth. And they'd do shit like high-five me in the hall. They told me I was doing God's work by making sure Eddie's attention was only on me." 

"God, they're such assholes." 

Steve nods in agreement and adds, "So am I." 

"You've changed, Steve." 

Steve shakes his head. "I don't know, Robin." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve felt high out of his mind lying in Eddie's bed with their fingers intertwined. Only when he was high, he felt like he could touch him like this. He didn't want it to go any further. More like, he was scared of it going any further because he wouldn't know what that meant. 

Eddie's head turned to him - his lips only a short distance away from Steve's. He was starting to notice these things more and more around the boy. 

"You're different," Eddie commented. 

Steve laughed and rolled on his side. "How?" 

"Different from anyone I've ever met. Nothing like your asshole friends." 

Steve's smile fell from his face at the comment. He was exactly like them; Eddie just didn't know it. 

"Why me?" Eddie asked. 

Steve glanced up at him. "What do you mean?" 

Eddie rolled on his side, shifting even closer to Steve. "Why did you choose to be nice to me? It felt so damn random especially after you practically never looked at me before." 

Steve's mouth opened and closed, unsure how to answer. Instead, he opted out and replied, "I don't know." 

"Well, I'm glad you noticed me. I don't know what I would do without you at this point." 

"Me neither," Steve replied honestly. 

-:-:-:- 

"I never told him," Steve says, feeling his bottom lip quiver. "God, I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't." 

Robin nods. “I don’t blame you, that’s a hard thing to explain to someone.” When Steve doesn’t reply, she presses on, "So, what else happened?" 

Steve runs both hands over his face and leans back against the couch, unable to look at Robin anymore. "It was a few weeks before Halloween, so I had been leading him on for two months at that point. We were hanging out almost every day. I almost spent the night sometimes because I was over so late just talking to him. But I never let myself. I knew if I stayed once, I would stay every night if I could. " 

"It sounds like you were just being friendly to him. I don't know how he could have misinterpreted it," Robin reasons. 

Steve shakes his head. "I wasn't just friendly. I would blatantly flirt sometimes. Shit, I used to leave notes in his locker sometimes and whenever we were alone, I would usually initiate some contact like holding his hand. But when it was late, and I could excuse the touchiness as a form of sleep deprivation, I would lay in bed with him, and we would just stare at each other. Sometimes, I let my hands wander in his hair, over his face, down his arms basically anywhere he'd let me." 

Robin lets a deep breath out and pauses before asking, "Did you ever do more than that?" 

Steve shakes his head but pinches his nose sharply. He has to own up to it. "Fuck," he sighs burying his head in his hands. "Yes, we did more than that but only one time." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve didn't remember why he was laughing; Eddie just kind of pulled it out of him at times. Besides, it was also late, and they both tended to get a bit giggly during the early AMs. 

Eddie stopped laughing suddenly, so Steve turned to him and asked, "What?" 

Eddie just shook his head in response and turned to stare at the ceiling looking suddenly stoic. 

Steve rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his arm to stare down at Eddie. "Come on, tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours." 

Eddie looked him directly in the eye and said, "That." 

Steve shook his head and tried not to stare at Eddie's lips. 

"You," Eddie tried again. "Do you mean what you say?" 

Steve's heart thudded in his chest. "I don't know what you mean," he lied. 

Eddie's hand shook as it made its way up to cup his cheek. "Yes, you do. Just tell me if I'm reading this wrong." 

He was reading it absolutely wrong, but fuck, he was reading him absolutely right. So, Steve didn't think. He just leaned down and gently kissed Eddie before he pulled back with a shaky breath to say, "You're not reading this wrong." 

Eddie pulled him in again, kissing him. Steve groaned into the kiss, feeling lightning practically spread through his body at the sensation. God, it felt so damn right. 

Steve quickly moved until his body was on top of Eddie's pressing into him at all the right places as they both deepened the kiss. Steve knew he wasn't supposed to be enjoying it, but he pushed the thought and guilt away.  

-:-:-:- 

Steve wipes the tear away from his cheek and takes a deep breath. "I wasn't thinking. And I made it so much worse." 

"Shit," Robin whispers, hugging her knees tightly. 

"After, I freaked the fuck out. I had this whole breakdown, and Eddie was trying so hard to understand. He thought I was just having this sexuality crisis, which I admittedly was, but I was mainly concerned about if Eddie ever found out if it was all a damn joke." 

"It wasn't a joke to either of you, Steve. You would've never gone that far if it was," Robin insists, hand landing gently on Steve's shoulder. 

Steve flinches away from her. "But it was all rooted in a joke." 

"Fuck," Robin says with wide eyes, "Steve, please tell me you didn't tell Tommy or anyone." 

In his heart, he knows that's the only good decision he made. "I didn't." 

Robin breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank god." 

"But what I did was maybe worse in hindsight." 

"How?" Robin asks, sounding horrified. 

-:-:-:- 

Steve walked through the halls on autopilot. He couldn't get any sleep the night before. It felt damn near impossible after his night with Eddie. 

"Steve buddy!" Tommy said loudly, clapping a rough hand on his back. "How's the freak treating you?" 

Steve shook his head and said, "It's over." 

Tommy walked in front of him and stopped him. "Woah there. You look like you've seen a damn ghost or something. What did the freak do to you? Did he try to kiss you or some shit?" Tommy asked with a sick smile on his face. 

"No," Steve stated and looked around the halls before he leaned in and said, "But I found out he's a Satanist. Like he does full-on rituals and shit." 

"No fucking way!" Tommy yelled excitedly, ready to spread the rumor like wildfire.  

"Yeah," Steve said. "I don't think he's queer though." 

"I'm surprised," Tommy laughed. "He looks at you like you're his bitch sometimes."  

"Just into Satanic shit," Steve insisted. 

Tommy got a wild look in his eye. "Maybe we should include that in the basketball hazing this year. First student to witness one of his rituals gets a damn prize." 

"Sure," Steve shrugged it off. "Bet it would scare that new guy Jason shitless." 

-:-:-:- 

"Oh fuck," Robin says, putting her hands over her mouth in shock. 

"I practically started the whole fucking manhunt with that damn rumor. I just thought it wouldn't be as bad as people finding out he was gay. And I somehow thought it would convince people that nothing happened between me and him," Steve confesses. 

"Okay," Robin says, staring off into space before shifting on the couch toward Steve. "Okay, you didn't start the manhunt. And Tommy's the one who spread the rumor, and Jason is the one who took it too far." 

"But Eddie would've graduated senior year if it wasn't for me." 

Robin's brows furrow as she shakes her head. "Wait what? How's that related?" 

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "I ended things the day the rumor spread. But I was such a fucking asshole about it, Robin. God, you're going to hate me." 

"Why would I hate you?" 

"Because it was a Tuesday. And instead of joining Eddie outside, I stayed with Tommy and Carol, looking around to find some girl to use to get over Eddie. Then, I spotted a girl with curly hair and big eyes that reminded me of him..." 

"Nancy," Robin fills in for him. 

Steve nods. "She was my fucking rebound." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve didn't eat lunch that day. He wasn't hungry. He felt fucking sick to his stomach as he looked around the cafeteria, wondering if Eddie would walk in at any moment looking for him. 

His eyes caught on curly hair, but realized it was too light to belong to Eddie. He leaned to the side and caught eyes with Nancy Wheeler. He shot her a wink before going back to pushing his food around his tray. It didn't make him feel better. 

In his last class with Eddie, he sat at the very front of the room, hating the view from there and the way people kept staring at his obvious seat change. He ducked his head when Eddie walked in late and took his seat in the back. 

He didn't take a single note that day. He could feel Eddie's eyes practically burn holes in the back of his head. 

The bell was the only thing that gave Steve relief that day, and he basically sprinted his way out of the building to his car. But he cursed as he dug around his backpack unable to find his damn keys. 

"Dropped these," Eddie's voice said behind him. 

Steve turned to him slowly and didn't make eye contact as he reached for the keys. 

Eddie snatched them back. "Why are you being weird? Is this because of what happened last night?" 

"Nothing happened last night," Steve insisted, lowering his voice so no one could hear him. 

Eddie's pained expression broke Steve's heart immediately. "Nothing?" 

"Nothing," Steve repeated. "And nothing will ever happen again, got it?" 

"Steve-" 

"I'm doing this for you," Steve lied. 

Eddie saw right through him as he always did. "No, you're fucking not." 

"Eddie-" 

"Is this freak bothering you, Steve?" Tommy said, suddenly rushing to his side. 

"No, I was just leaving," Eddie said, turning to stalk away. 

Tommy snorted at the sight and leaned into Steve's side to ask, "You're sure he's not gay?" 

"Shut up, Tommy," Steve said, pinching his nose as he got into his car. 

-:-:-:- 

"He started skipping classes after that. Shit, I practically never saw him in our English class. And he started taking a different route in the halls. God, I missed him so fucking bad." Steve looks down at his hands, flexing in anger at his past mistakes. "He skipped so often that they made him repeat senior year. The next year, we saw each other once when I was with Nancy, and after that it was like I never saw him again. Once again, he skipped and failed. If he would've graduated when he was supposed to, he wouldn't be in this damn mess. Fuck, he would still be alive." 

"He's still alive, Steve." 

Steve snaps, "Is he really? The doctor told us that he may never wake up, Robin. What if he never wakes up? What if I can never tell him this?" A small part of Steve wonders what would happen if he did wake up. Would he actually tell him? 

Steve shakes his head. He doesn't know, but he knows he can't lose him again. It hurt so damn much the first time; he couldn't do it again. "You know how I always say I have no idea what I want?" 

Robin nods. 

"I've lied. I know exactly what I want, and he's laying in that damn hospital bed. I thought maybe I could find someone like him, but I can't Robin. No matter how many dates I go on, no one is like Eddie." 

Robin moves closer to him and wraps her arms around him. 

Steve feels more tears trail down his face as he leans into Robin. "You know, in the upside down, he gave me this bullshit speech about how I've changed, and I'm actually a good dude. Then, he told me something about how I should get Nancy back and it was like a damn dagger in my heart. He told me that she dove right into that water and he wouldn't have done the same in normal circumstances. As if he was trying to tell me that I was right to choose Nancy over him. It's such bullshit." 

Robin doesn't say anything, just pulls him in tighter. 

"He has to wake up, Robin. He has to," Steve wipes his eyes and stands up. "But we have to get back to that hospital, okay? I'll tell you eventually why I can't leave his side, but I just can't today." 

Robin nods and stands up. "Let's go then." 

-:-:-:- 

"If you died today, would you have regrets?" 

Steve laughed. "That's such a random question." 

Eddie smiled up at him. "Come on, answer the question." 

Steve knew that he would have too many regrets to ever be able to list. But he asked, "Would I die right here, right now?" 

Eddie shrugged. "Sure." 

"If I died with you at my side, then I think I would have no regrets. What about you?" 

Eddie smiled up at him sincerely, considering the question for a few moments. "As long as you were by my side, I would be okay." 

[takami-takami]

Like Animals.

kinktober day 4: sex pollen.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut

warnings— afab!reader. dubcon (sex pollen/heats, but both have been pining like idiots). breeding if you squint.

keigo's beloved crush sidekick gets hit with the unluckiest quirk possible. he quickly discovers his rut suppressants ain't shit.

Through all the horrors and adverse life events Keigo has endured in this line of work— brutal near-assassinations, negotiations with international crime syndicates, purchasing sugar-free canned coffee with Splenda substitute by mistake before his morning shift— he has always been able to find a silver lining in the darkest of moments. 

Which makes it infinitely more concerning that for the first time in his life, he nearly whines through his teeth the words, "why me?" 

A palm drags once down his face, thumb and index finger pulling down his darkened eye bags. His hand collects the beads of sweat and stops to rest over his mouth. 

He supposes this must be his penance for taking a risk and trusting faulty intel. 

Keigo's informant told him the villain he and his darling sidekick were meeting would have a limited-ranged fire quirk, so the diligent hero stuffed ointment and cold packs in his pockets before leaving just in case. 

If he had known the villain was a plant heteromorph and possessed a heat-inducing mist quirk instead, and that the person he was hopelessly in love with had a bit of a crush on would be caught in the direct line of fire? 

He would have brought a paper bag to hyperventilate into instead. And some prayer beads. The god to which the prayer is delivered doesn't necessarily matter, he thinks. He'd simply pick one and drop to his knees in a bid for mercy.

"I'm taking you to a medic," Keigo puts his foot down for the fourth time this evening. 

"Fuck no," you groan from the couch, shifting to squeeze your thighs together. It offers not even a modicum of relief from the incessant throb. "Do you want my cause of death to be humiliation? Is that your plan, genius? 'S bad enough as it is that you're here." 

The subtext is unspoken, but clear to him through your adorable pout: I only trust you to see me like this.

It's unlucky that the man you've had the most innapropriate-for-work crush on for the better part of two years happened to be the one beside you that day. And it's just your sorry luck, you lament, that Keigo would also be the one to catch you, to fly you home cradled in his painfully capable arms, to refuse to leave your side and insist on making his favorite chicken soup for you in a desperate flail of support. 

He'd respect your decision and leave, should you ask him to. You know that. And yet the humbling truth gnaws at your pride: doing so wouldn't do much to save your image at this point. He’s already seen you like this, you grumble. The proverbial cat has long since escaped the bag, waltzing its way over to rub its purring body against Keigo’s leg to your abject horror.

If you close your eyes, you can attempt to trick your brain into thinking this affliction is a flu of some kind. 

Yes, this is just some common cold. You're wearing nothing but your work partner's shirt (your clothes were contaminated by the quirk's dust, Keigo explained, speaking in that strict work mode voice that makes you picture your mouth stuffed and drooling somewhere beneath his desk and between his spread legs). You pull the damned fabric down over your core as you try your hardest to not writhe in fits of pleasure underneath the blankets, rubbing your thighs together for any friction against your swollen clit.

All symptoms of an affliction of the flu, of course. 

You don't need to reach down and touch to know the slick would string those thighs together, should you attempt to pull them apart. 

Keigo knows that, too. But he doesn't say anything about it. 

You would be mortified if you were aware of the truth. 

That he knows everything.

Keigo knows exactly how you ache; like you're constantly on the precipice of an orgasm, perpetually ablaze from the heavy heat scorching your body from its surface to the boiling core. 

You try to suppress your glee as he spoon feeds you the broth, reminding yourself that this is just what good friends do for each other.

Friends coo praises at each other when they swallow, friends tilt each other's chins up with one finger and mutter things like that’s a good dove and you can take another as they watch their throat bob in tandem. 

Friends shiver from their wingtips down their spine when they pull the spoon back. They let their gaze linger for just a second on those lips that open wide, aching to touch with their own.

Ever the gentleman, Keigo stays lowered to his haunches and places one hand over your forehead to check for a fever, redirecting his focus toward taking inventory of your vitals. He doesn't wince when he hears your moan at the contact, even though the pitiful sound pings at his weak points. His avian instincts remind him he needs to protect you, please you, take care of you; to make it go away, to fix that feeling he knows better than anyone is aching like a bruise between your thighs. 

He doesn't allow his eyes to wander astray or trail their way downwards, especially when you're in such a vulnerable state; but his professional assessment is that if he could only wet his appetite, the flat of his tongue alone could— 

He shakes his head and blows a puff to cool the soup, raising another spoonful to your lips. 

"Here. Another. You need to keep your energy up," he reminds you, voice stern. It's nearly clinical and achieves the opposite of its desired effect.

Your heart rate picks up to thump at a steady, thrumming beat at the innocuous gesture of domesticity. 

How have you never noticed how capable of a mate Keigo would be…? He’s all musculature and sincerity, sharp ridges at his knuckles and soft curves at the small of his waist where he only trusts you to touch.

You huff an involuntary moan. 

He picks another god to praise that the couch you're laying on obscures his lower half. 

Today, Keigo discovers his suppressants are only designed to reduce the chance of a rut being triggered. It brings the possibility of it starting in the first place to a comfortable near-zero, allowing him to carry out the spring and fall seasons as if he were entirely quirkless.

But if that rut passes through the blockers' biochemistry in, say, the event Keigo's luck rears its ugly head, for example… It does fuck all to reduce the actual symptoms. 

More importantly than his own anguish, however, is this: his mate work partner got hurt because of him— hurt being a stretch, he'd know if he weren't overthinking so much, given the blissed out panting just two feet away from him; but you’re probably suffering and it's all his fault. It’s all because of an unlucky, once in a lifetime slip up from Keigo Takami himself, and he can't detangle himself from the guilt.

If drowning in the unexpected whirlpool that is his first rut in half a decade is his penance for the crime, then Keigo will hang his head and take it.

The huff he lets out is your last straw.

"I'm going to my room," you state, moving to leave like you left the stove on and are trying to avoid an upcoming house fire.

When his hand darts out to stop you, the touch against your shoulder sends shockwaves down your stomach.

He's touching you. He's taking such good care of you, feeding you, providing for you in his nest and now he's touching you?

It sends your hormones into overdrive. 

You'd do well to conceal it, if his heightened instincts couldn't smell your desperation. 

"I'm afraid it ain't that easy, dove," Keigo warns, eye contact averted. "I'd avoid doing that, if I were you." 

He schools his expression, but not before you catch a flash of something hungry. 

There's no chance in hell he's letting you out of his sight. Not like this. You're confined to the couch while he keeps an eye on you. Attempting to fix it yourself will only make the feeling unfathomably worse, something he tries to communicate to you with a look that only ends up making him look like a kicked puppy.

You squint right back when you process the implication of his words, eyes raking down his form in suspicion. 

"How do you know all this, anyway," you ask.

Keigo goes silent, hand concealing his mouth. 

Ah, it hits you. 

Bird things.

Your head falls back against one of the numerous pillows your partner propped up behind you.

"The couch is soft," you murmur, situating yourself against the cushions and throw blankets he so carefully arranged. You trail your fingertips along a silk pillow. Keigo slams his eyes shut.

"Please don't say it like that." 

"Why not?" Your lids droop, heat overtaking your better judgement. Tentatively, you play along the bounds. You allow your hands to run along the soft divots of the blanket covering your body, squeezing your chest and pinching the peaks. "It's like a little nest, isn't it?" 

His hand drags down his face before pinching his nose bridge, suppressing a whine. "Baby, please—" 

"You don't wanna join me?"

"You don't know what you're talking about. It's just the heat," Keigo tells himself more than you. "For the love of God, dove, stop talking—"

"But it hurts, Kei'." It’s a low blow, judging by the protective coo that escapes his lips. 

Fed up, he leans forward and swings his right leg over your hip, crawling atop you as if his body has a mind of its own, utterly bogged by desire and yanked like puppet strings.

With Keigo kneeling tall above you, the bodysuit of his hero costume hides absolutely nothing. The musculature is quite impressive, actually. Proof of his viability as a mate— all dominant and masculine and gorgeous.

And at this angle, you can see the most painful erection straining against his pants. 

"I need you, Kei'. I need— mmph!" 

A palm silences you; slapped down, hot, imposing, and heavy like a weight against your mouth. 

The authority of the action makes your cunt clench; and Keigo would die before he lets that feeling go to waste, so his hips drop down to grind once against it. 

Your eyes go wide, doughy and stunned, darting down in haste, following the trail of his thick bicep up toward the disciplinary scowl on his face. 

His nostrils flare with the heaving in his chest, eyes screwed shut with his last slivers of patience holding its grip on his psyche.

"One more word," he says, pulling his hand away. "One more word and I'm ripping this blanket off and fucking you raw." 

After a moment of silence, you speak.

"Please." 

Keigo is wordless when he unbuckles his belt and lets it— and his inhibitions— drop with a satisfying clink.

The reality of what you've gotten yourself into comes crashing down as it hits you how utterly fucked you are. The scaffolding of years of sexual tension comes crumbling down like bricks to rubble, a city of restraint reduced to pure, animalistic desire. 

Years of Keigo's eyes darting away when you nonchalantly change into your uniform in front of him, even though he never seemed bothered by any of his other peers doing the same; years of you both curling in on yourselves at the furthest edges of the bed you had to share, cramped close in those under-the-radar motels on stealth missions; years of the words "idiot, can I kiss you," held back by your lips as you watch Keigo moan when he sinks his teeth into his comfort restaurant's chicken teriyaki every stupid Friday night, sitting cross-legged and at home on the carpet of your apartment floor. 

Not a single word is exchanged as he pulls his cock free from its confines, nearly too thick for his fingers to meet when they wrap around it. He tosses the blanket to the side with haste, dragging your shirt (his shirt) up to your collar, exposing your chest when he lines his cock with your entrance. 

"Please, Kei'," you sniffle. "Hurts." 

"Oh, I know, baby... I know." His lips are pursed when he shushes you, tracing your cheek with his palm. "I'll make it go away."

When your lips meet, it's like static electricity; and it's entirely remorseless.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groans against your mouth, dragging his length along your sticky thighs before plopping the thick of it atop your soaked cunt. 

"You're so wet for me," he reveres in awe, dragging the plump tip through your mess to get it slick enough to rub against your clit. 

Your rutting hips buck with impatience in an attempt to glide his length against your swollen pussy, but that only serves to fuel his desire; and those desperate little whines only feed into his insatiable need to fuck, to breed you until you're silent. 

Until you shut the fuck up. 

Those pathetic little sounds are music to his ears, a siren's song that used to play only in his most shameful fantasies; the ones that kept his fist tight around his cock the moment he returned home after missions, the sight of you panting and spitting blood after battle with a smile on your face still fresh in his memory. 

Keigo wants to hear you moan. 

But his rut needs to fuck you wordless with satisfaction. 

"Oh, fuck," he hitches, shifting his hips back and forth to the tune of the audible shlicks below. Unable to stay upright any longer, his chest falls flush into yours in a rut-afflicted haze, rutting against you like animals. 

When he slips his cock inside, it's with a kiss to muffle his voice.

And he wastes no time setting a punishing pace, aided nicely by the slickness that coats the sides of his cock. The legs of the couch surely must be scraping indents into the floorboards, judging by the creaks that mingle with the sounds of his belt buckle at every thrust. You'd notice if either of you were lucid enough to care. 

It's a brief consideration of a possibility of an afterthought, like a sheepish voice behind a roaring crowd. 

Pulling out, that is. 

Yeah, if he were a stronger man, he could probably will his hips to stall. There's a chance someone far stronger than him would hiss when he does it. His cock would weep in denial of that sweet, velvet entanglement, dripping out in the cold when he fists himself to completion mere inches away from what might as well be the center of his goddamn universe.

But when it comes to you, when it comes to his rut, Keigo is not a strong man.

He allows his cock to throb in the vice of your cunt, instead.

"God, baby," he moans into your neck, wings flapping once, twice with each thrust, shedding a few feathers before straightening out and grazing the ceiling behind his back. "Baby. Oh, baby. You're so tight. You're so— fuck!"

He's babbling, but so are you. Legs hooked across the small of his back, you bump your hips as best you can to aid in his efforts; and with your last shreds of lucidity, you decide for the both of you how things will end. 

With watery lashes, you open your eyes enough to blink away some tears and clear your vision just enough. Your gaze crawls up his legs that are still clothed to the thighs, peeking over the curvature of his ass and up his shuddering spine— all to mark onto your scarlet red prize.

When you entangle your fingers into the downy feathers at the base of his wings, it shoots straight to his cock and he spills.

With eyes wide open and a strangled choke at the back of his throat, Keigo's hips stutter when he empties himself. With every throb comes another rope from the tip, sticky and excessive from the rut, mixing with your wetness as you crash over the edge soon after.

When the ringing in your ears ceases and you finally come to, it's to the sight of your now probably-more-than-a-work-partner pulling out and staring between your legs as if under a trance, eyes glimmering.

"Kei', you okay?"

"Uh huh," he answers absentmindedly, utterly transfixed on the mess he made. 

It's strange, he thinks. Whatever urges his rut transcribed into cravings, every instinct that tugged at the avian etched in his DNA and called him to fill you pales in comparison to the satisfaction of having indulged himself at last.

His eyes flick back to meet yours.

"Does this mean I can kiss you at work now?" 

You snort. So that's where his mind goes in the end.

"It means a whole lot more than that," you say, rolling you both over so he lands square on his back.

[drewsephrry]

hiii congrats on 2k!!! you deserve it so much <33

💋 prompt list a: "i need space" + "you can't leave me"

tyyy

thank you so much lovie!! 🤍🤍

2k celebration!!!

warnings: cuss words, blood

word count: 1.1k

The knock on your door wakes you up from your deep slumber. You look at your phone screen, showing it's 2am. You get up and pull on your slippers as you cautiously walk downstairs. As you reach the front door, you check through the peephole, finding Rafe, your boyfriend outside your door, blood dripping from his nose. You immediately open the door, worried expression on your face.

“Rafe…oh my god!” You exclaim in shock. He wipes the blood from his nose.

“Hey baby…” he smiles wide as he enters the house. You grab his face and pull him with you to the bathroom. You close the cover of the toilet seat and make him sit down on it. You rummage through the cabinet for your first aid kit.

“On the left.” he whispers, familiar with the first aid kit now. Rafe's temper had always been a problem. He got into a lot of fights often, because he couldn't control his anger. You had scolded him multiple times about it but he never seemed to listen.

You grab the first aid kit and stand between his legs as you examine his face. A cut on his cheek, a bruise starting to form on his jaw, a busted lip and a bloody nose adorning his face. You try and successfully stop the nosebleed, before applying some alcohol disinfectant on a cotton pad to clean the cut. When the alcohol makes contact with the cut, he hisses as it stings and holds your hips in response.

“Sorry.” You groan, your guilt evident on your face. He shakes his head as you continue cleaning up the cut.

“It's not your fault.” He whispers. He lets you do your work quietly. Bandaging up the cut and putting some ointment on the bruise on his jaw. When you're done, you clean up the kit and wash your hands, your back in front of him and he looks at you waiting for a reaction. He knew you didn't like when he got into fights and he knew he was gonna get a lecture again. You turn around and lean on the counter, crossing your arms expectantly.

“So..? What happened?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“You're not gonna like the answer…” Rafe exclaims jokingly and he looks up at you, expecting something. Even the smallest smile from you would make him feel a lot better than the worried expression you had. He sighs, when he notices the absence of anything.

“I-I got into a fight…with some stupid guy at the club.” He reveals and you nod.

“Why, this time?” You ask, jabbing at him for all the other fights he has been in. He rolls his eyes.

“Doesn't matter.” He replies, but knowing you and how stubborn you get, he knew you'd push.

“Please, tell me.” You beg and when he sees the concern in your eyes as you do, he nods.

“He…he said some stuff about you. And I-I couldn't…control myself. I couldn't let him talk shit about you.” Your eyebrows furrow even more. The sight of him battered and bruised, because he tried to defend you, doesn't make you feel good as he expected it to. You sigh and look up to the ceiling.

“We've talked about this, Rafe. You can't keep getting into stupid fights. Losing your temper like that…” You begin.

“It's not stupid…I was trying to defend you. I wasn't gonna let him or anyone talk like that about you.” He interrupts you, frustrated that you cannot understand him. I shake my head, looking away from him.

“What? Huh? You're gonna get upset again and-and start fucking lecturing me again? Can you not see that I did this for you?” His face filled with frustration and some anger.

“I didn't ask you to do any of this!” You snap. “Do you think it's easy for me to see you hurt? To have to clean you up? Think again…”

Rafe sighs, suddenly feeling some guilt for making you feel this way, but doesn't have any remorse about what he did.

“I am not gonna apologize for fighting that guy. Or anyone disrespecting you. I don't care that I got, what? A bruise…and a busted lip? I've gotten worse before, sweetheart. You shouldn't worry about me. I can handle it.”

You sigh at his words, knowing that if you reply, the fighting cycle will just keep going.

“You know what…I can't do this. I'm tired.” You look down fidgeting with one of your rings. The promise one, Rafe got you not too long ago. He notices that bad habit of yours and gets up from the toilet seat.

“Yeah, me too.” He sighs too, pulling your hand away from your ring. “We can sleep it off. Or talk about it later.”

“No, Rafe..” You start “I mean, I'm tired of this.” You close your eyes and his eyebrows furrow in worry, his chest filling with pain as he tries to understand what you mean. And hoping it doesn't mean what he thinks.

“What?” He asks, anxiety taking over. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean…fuck, aren't you tired? Of us. Arguing all the time. And for stupid things.” You reveal, but his mind is stuck. Of us. That little phrase meant everything he feared. You were gonna leave him.

When he doesn't say anything, you sigh again, closing your eyes.

“I…I need some space.” His heart aches and he shakes his head.

“No, baby…we can talk. We…I…please..”

You look up, your eyes glossy, as your lips tremble trying to contain your emotions. His eyes widen and he reaches for you.

“Baby. Hey, hey. No, we can fix this. I-I can fix this. Just…please. Don't…” he sighs “Please, don't leave me. You can't leave me. I…I need you, baby. Sweetheart, please” He exclaims. Rafe is not one who expresses his feelings in words often. Usually he shows it to you by getting you gifts, taking you to expensive trips and dates, making you dinner and treating you to a nice bath or something. Being vulnerable is not something he is used to, but when it comes to you he doesn't care.

He touches your shoulder gently, reaching for the back of your neck to pull you to look up at him.

“Please…” You wrap your arms around him before you start sobbing. His heart aches at the sound and wraps his arms around you immediately.

“Hey…shh. I got you. I am here.” He kept repeating.

After a few minutes, your sobs subside into quiet sniffles. You pull back to look at him.

“I don't wanna…I didn't…mean it.” You try to explain but he cuts you off with a shake of his head.

“No, don't. You don't need to explain anything. I am an idiot. I keep getting into fights and I know how much that bothers you. I will stop. If that's what you want me to do, I will stop. I don't care.” He says determined to fix this mess he created. “Just please. Don't leave me.” He whispers and you nod.

“I won't. I can't. Ever.” He smiles at your words and leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I love you, my sweet girl. I love how you take care of me. And I love that you're worrying about me. I really fucking appreciate you. Okay? I know…I don't say it enough. But I do!” He exclaims and you smile slightly.

“I love you too.” You whisper. He leans down and captures your lips into his.

“I will fix this. I swear. I will make it better. I will do better. Just…don't go.” You nod at his words and he wraps his arms around you.

You might fight often, but Rafe will do whatever it takes to fix it. To never lose you.

A/N: this might just been my fav blurb i have written so far. i did get a little carried away with it. i hope you enjoy this and is somewhat what you expected!!🤍

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 , PART 20 , PART 21 , PART 22 , PART 23 , PART 24 , PART 25 , PART 26 , PART 27, PART 28 (You're here), PART 29

In Merlin's chambers.

Merlin: (pacing, anxious and worried)

Gaius: (enters)

Merlin: (turns to Gaius quickly) How is he? Is he going to be okay?

Gaius: (serious) The King had a seizure, but he's stable now. He should be awake by tomorrow morning.

Merlin: (sighs in relief) Thank the gods!

Gaius: Now sit down (takes Merlin to the bed and sits him) I need to check your bruise.

Merlin: There's no need. It's not serious.

Gaius: (sharply) I know. But these are Prince's orders. (Checks Merlin's cheek) It's a bit swollen, but you'll live. (Puts ointment on the bruise) This should do. Now... (Very serious) What happened?

Merlin: (ashamed) I... I think I pissed him off so bad he collapsed.

Gaius: I figured, Merlin. Uther hit you. It's not difficult to put two and two together. What I need to know is WHAT did you do to piss Uther off so bad he collapsed.

Merlin: (more ashamed, mumbles) I...deny but-then he-and I...

Gaius: Merlin I need every detail, word by word what exactly did you tell the King, so I can find a way to defend you.

Merlin tells him exactly what happened and Gaius hears every word patiently, even when he feels the need to yell at Merlin every 30 seconds for how insolent and reckless Merlin had been.

Gaius: (after Merlin finishes) Alright... There's no way to defend you.

Merlin: What?! 😰

Gaius: You did not only defy the King's authority and raise your voice at him, you mocked him and insulted him! What were you thinking?!😡

Merlin: I don't know! I did what you said: deny, be submissive, be respectful, but he still believed I was guilty and then he said he would send me away from Arthur and I just... got mad!

Gaius: You should've been grateful Uther just wanted to send you away! You'll be lucky if he even grants you a quick and painless death now! You think that Uther is Arthur and will put up with your disrespect? He is the King!

Merlin: I know! I just.. forgot it for a moment. (sighs) I'll pack my things.

Gaius: Why?

Merlin: You said there was no way to defend me, so I'm leaving, like Uther sentenced.

Gaius: (lets out a dry laugh) You really don't get it, do you?

Merlin: (confused) What?

Gaius: How bad you really messed up! (stands up abruptly and moves his hands around as he talks in distress) When I told you'll be lucky if Uther grants a quick and painless death now, I meant it! Everyone thinks you tried to kill the King! And, honestly, I don't blame them. You were alone with the King when he "fainted" and have a fighting mark on your face. If I didn't know you, I would've believe it too. And you do realise that's the worst crime someone can be accused of, right?

Merlin: (pales) But I didn't-And Uther knows I-

Gaius: You think that with how paranoid he has been he won't think you provoque this seizure on him on purpose?

Merlin: ...

Gaius: Once Uther wakes up, you'll be enemy of the crown. You'll be hunted down so bad, not even outside Camelot you'll be safe. And when they get you... (his voice wavers, not able to say it, and sits on the bed again, defeated)

Merlin: But... I'm sure Arthur can do some-

Gaius: Arthur! Even he understands the gravity of the situation more than you do. Do you know where is the prince now?

Merlin: Looking after his father. Where else could he be?

Gaius: ...

Merlin: That's where he is, right?

Gaius: ...

Merlin: Gaius, where is Arthur?

Arthur in a reunion with all his Knights.

Arthur: I won't force you to participate. If your loyalty lays more with Uther than with me, I completely understand. He is still the King after all. But I need to know who will be on my side.

Merlin: (enters) Arthur! (runs to him)

Sir Innprudence: (murmurs) The apple of discord has arrived.

Sir Leon: (hits him, whispering) Silence!

Merlin: Tell me is not truth. Tell me you are not planning to overthrow the king!

Arthur: Alright, I won't tell you.

Merlin: Arthur!

Sir Ewan: (murmuring) Like he didn't plan this from the beginning.

Sir Leon: (whispers) Really? You too?

Sir Ewan: (whispers back) Is his fault we are about to do a rebellion! To think we defended him. But now we know what he is. A poisonous snake-

Merlin: You can't overthrow your own father, are you mad?! I won't let you!

Sir Owain: Listen to him, Sire!

Sir Ewan: Yes, he's talking nothing but reason!

Sir Leon: (whispers to Ewan) Didn't you just say he was a poisonous snake?

Sir Ewan: (whispers back) What are you talking about? I'd never talk bad about The Unicorn Catcher.

Arthur: Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. I'm not really overthrowing my father.

Merlin: You are not? 😧

Arthur: You think I'd take my father's throne by force when he's unconscious and therefore incapable of defending himself in any way? That's not just treason, is dishonorable!

Merlin: (sighs in relief)

Arthur: This is just a back up plan.

Merlin: A back up plan?

Arthur: Yes, my first plan is to try to talk him out of executing you as soon as he wakes up. If he forgives your life, everything will be solved.

Merlin: ... And if he doesn't?

Arthur: That's what the back up plan is for. 😊

Merlin: ...

Knights: ...

Sir Innprudence: Rebellion it is.😔

Merlin: You can't be serious. Arthur, you know Uther won't forgive me!

Arthur: (in denial) Don't be so negative, Merlin. I can try to persuade him. It might work.

Merlin: Arthur-

Arthur: This is just a last resort! If he doesn't see reason, I'll challenge him into a duel-

Merlin: Arthur-

Arthur: If he doesn't accept the duel, i'll ask the court for their support-

Merlin: Arthur-

Arthur: And if I don't have enough support-

Merlin: (shouts) You won't have it! Why would the court help you save the life of a servant? Especially one that is suspected of trying to kill the King! You can't ascend the throne this way. Your legitimacy to the throne will be questioned and your reputation ruined! It's outrageous enough that you are even considering this. He is your father!

Arthur: (shouts) I WON'T LET HIM TAKE YOU FROM ME!

Merlin: ...

Arthur: For years he made feel unworthy of his love. He made me feel guilty for my mother's death since I was a kid. I did EVERYTHING to get his approval. I trained hard, I isolated myself with tones of books, went to quests, I killed in his name! And then what does he do? Insult me, hit me, imprison me and take every piece of happiness I have! He sacked my first nursemaid because she was too soft on me, he killed my first hunting dog because I was getting too attached to it. "Don't show weakness Arthur, why are you crying Arthur? The darkness of the dungeons scares you? Stop acting like a baby, you are turning 8 tomorrow!"

Merlin: (covers his mouth with his hands, wide eye)

Kinghts: (just as shocked) ...

Arthur: I tolerated him a lot of things. But not this. Not with you. I won't let him take my happiness once more!

Merlin: (thinking in awe and emotional) He... he considers me part of his happiness? 🥺

Arthur and Merlin: (get lost in each other's eyes)

Knights: ...

Sir Innprudence: (coughs) Well, the rebellion is not going to make itself.

Leon: (hits him with his elbow and mutters) They were having a moment! (aloud) You can count on me, Sire.

Sir Owain: And me!

Sir Ewan: And me!

Sir Innprudence: Yeah, we already escaped the dungeons. What's another rebellious act?

Leon: (lifting his sword) For the love of Camelot!

All Knights: For the love of the Prince!

Time skip. In Gaius Tower.

Merlin: (enters, very serious)

Gaius: Did you convince the Prince of not doing the rebellion?

Merlin: In fact, he convinced me.

Gaius: What?

Merlin: Did you know Uther put Arthur in dungeons as a punishment when he was 8? Or should I say since?

Gaius: ... Where is this coming from?

Merlin: (barely contained anger) You knew, didn't you? You knew and you didn't do anything!

Gaius: I did what I could! I can't very well confront the king about his parenting methods, Merlin. Unlike you, I know my place.

Merlin: Parenting methods? That's abuse! He was just a child! And I... (thinking) I never noticed. Those times Uther sent Arthur and Morgana to the dungeons, I just assumed they were isolated cases. But they were routine for them. How much did I actually miss in my other life?

Gaius: Uther wasn't the best father, I won't deny that. But does he deserves to lose his crown for that? Besides, this is not just about him. A rebellion will put the life of many at stake. Blood will be spilled. Do you want that on your conscience? On Arthur's conscience?

Merlin: No! Of course not. But if Uther hasn't been a shitty father, Arthur's mind wouldn't be as set as it is now. He killed his dog for gods' sake!

Gaius: What does that has to do with anything?

Merlin: Arthur is not doing this because of me. Apparently this was just the last straw. (thinking) Though it's odd he never reacted like this in my other life. He never thought of doing a rebellion when Uther wanted to kill Gwen. And Arthur always thought high of Uther even years after he died. What changed to make Arthur stop idolizing his father so soon?

Gaius: The last straw? YOU were the last straw! 😡 You and your audacity, your boldness, your lack of self-preservation-

Merlin: I get it, I get it. This is all my fault. You can scold me and ground me all you want later. Now we need solutions. How can we stop Arthur from doing the rebellion?

Gaius: Honestly, Merlin, sending you to talk him out of it was the only hope I had.

Merlin: (thoughtful) Hmmm... Maybe... there wouldn't be a need for a rebellion if...

Gaius: If?

Merlin: (hesitantly) Uther weren't to wake up?

Gaius: (escandalized) Merlin! Are you suggesting to kill the King? 😱

Merlin: No! Never! I wouldn't do that to Arthur! But you must admit it would solve a lot of thing-

Gaius: Shut your mouth! You are speaking treason! Those words alone could get you hanged!

Merlin: I'm pretty much dead now, Gaius. But you're right, I shouldn't joke with those things. (thoughtful again) What can we do?

Gaius: (brings a hand to his chest) You're going to make my heart leave my body one of these days, I swear.

Merlin: (gets an idea) Leave! That's it! (makes a move to leave)

Gaius: (stops him) Where are you going?

Merlin: I'm going to pack my things and leave Camelot. 😊

Gaius: You think running away from your problems is going to solve anything?

Merlin: No, but it'll keep Arthur busy.

Gaius: ...What?

Merlin: Here's the plan. Hear me out. Arthur told me he didn't want Uther to take me from him because I'm part of his happiness. (smiles a little, blushing)

Gaius: Really, Merlin? This is not the time for blushing.

Merlin: I'm not-It's good to feel appreciated sometimes. Anyways, this means Arthur cares enough for me to look for me if I'm gone, right?

Gaius: I would say that more than enough, actually, but yes.

Merlin: So if I leave and hide, Arthur will be too busy trying to find me that he won't have time to organize his rebellion. There, problem solved!

Gaius: That's your great plan. Playing hide and seek with the Prince.

Merlin: Yep. 😊

Gaius: Yes, he'd probably go nuts looking for you, just as he probably would speed up the rebellion in the hope that you will return as soon as the threat is over.

Merlin: ...

Merlin: Okay, I didn't think of that.

Gaius: (sighs)

Merlin: You are not giving me many ideas either, Gaius!

Gaius: Well, for now, I'll do the only thing I can. (picks up a potion and starts leaving)

Merlin: What are you going to do?

Gaius: (defeated) Delay the inevitable. To buy you some time.

Merlin: (keeps looking at Gaius, confused)

Gaius: (sighs) I'm going to drug the King. (leaves)

Time skip. Emergency reunion in Morgana's chambers with Merlin, Gwen and Lancelot.

Lancelot: Arthur even asked me to join the knights in the rebellion.

Gwen: He seems pretty determined, Merlin. Reasoning or trying to sweet persuade him is not going to make him change his mind this time.

Merlin: I know, I tried. (sighs) There must be something we can do!

Morgana: (enters) Sorry, I'm late. Someone had to look after Uther. (gives Merlin a look)

Merlin: (guilty) Morgana-

Morgana: Don't. I know you didn't mean for any of this to happen. And I don't blame you, truly. If I told you all the times Uther made me lose my temper.

Merlin: Yeah, the difference is no one would ever believe you tried to kill the King because of that.

Gwen: There are still many Unicorn Catcher defenders between the servants if that's any consolation to you.

Merlin: It is not. (to Morgana, hopeful) You think you can convince Arthur of not doing this?

Morgana: You think I haven't tried? I even told him he would hurt Uther less if he killed him in his sleep rather than force him to fight his own son in battle, that he was being a monster by doing this, but he went all "this is the honorable way" and all.

Merlin: Perfect. Unless Gaius can sedate Uther forever, we are screw.

Morgana: Have you tried seducing him? 😏

Merlin: This is not time for jokes, Morgana. 😒

Morgana: (thinking) It would work if you weren't so blind to Arthur's feelings. 🤦 (sighs and says) Fine. What about crying to him?

Merlin: Morgana, this is serious!

Morgana: I am serious! How do you think I survived Uther's strict education for so long? Crying was my way to get away with some things with Uther and avoid or reduce some of his punishments. Of course it stopped working when he realised I was faking, but my point is: Pendragons are weak to tears and Arthur is not the exception. When I first came to the castle we didn't get along well. Arthur was jealous that I had all of Uther's attention and believed he was softer on me than him. He wouldn't swordplay with me no matter how much I asked, so what do you think I did?

Merlin: ...Cry?

Morgana: I cried so hard Arthur panicked and gave me his own sword to play. There was also this time some nobel kid made me cry and Arthur kicked him in the crotch.

Gwen: Oh, I remember that! It was so funny.

Lancelot: So you are suggesting manipulation, my lady?

Morgana: I wouldn't call it manipulation. I would call it... Plan T!

Merlin: Plan T?

Morgana: T of using tears as a way to presuade Arthur.

Merlin: That's manipulation!

Morgana: Well, we're running out of options. Besides, I sincerely believe that it can work. It's very easy, just look. (purses her lips and then her eyes begin to water, until tears run down her eyes and then she cries uncontrollably)

Merlin: (worried) Morgana?

Lancelot: Are you alright, my lady?

Morgana: (suddenly stops crying and wips her tears) See? 💁‍♀️

Merlin and Lancelot: (totally shocked) ... 😨😨

Gwen: (claps) You are so talented my lady! 😊

Morgana: It's easy. You just have to hold your breath, gag with your mouth closed and then just focus on the burning in your eyes until your eyes water and, finally, you let out all the frustration in the form of tears. Once you master that, you go to Arthur like this: (goes to Gwen and kneels before her, holding her hands. Then she starts crying all over again) "Please, Arthur, stop this! It's all my fault!" (hits her chest rugly) "I've caused all this. If blood is spilled because of me, I couldn't live with myself. (clinges to Gwen's legs) If you do this, I... I'd rather... disappear!" (faints)

Merlin: ...

Lancelot: ...

Gwen: (amazed) She's good, isn't she? 😃😁

Lancelot: I'll never trust the tears of a woman ever again.

Morgana: (stands up and turns to Merlin) See? Just like that.

Merlin: Yeah, I'm not doing that.

Morgana: You have to! If Arthur notices your anguish he will reconsider.

Merlin: Why don't you do it then?

Morgana: I did and he just sent me to Gaius. The problem when you use a trick too much is that people start to build up immunity to it. Besides, this is something Arthur would expect from me, but he would never expect it from you. With you he'll really be struck down.

Merlin: But... I don't want to lie to him. (thinking) No when I can help it.

Morgana: Technically you wouldn't be lying. You feel guilty, don't you?

Merlin: Of course I do!

Morgana: Then you'd just be amplifying your feelings! Now... (pulls Merlin and puts him infront of Lancelot) Lets practice. Imagine Lancelot is Arthur.

Lancelot: What? 😰

Merlin: Morgana this is ridiculous.😒

Morgana: Want to stop the rebellion?

Merlin: Yes, but-

Morgana: Then cry to Lancelot. Now.

Merlin: (sighs and tries to use Morgana's technique, holding his breath)

Morgana: You are forgetting to gag.

Merlin: (starts to gag)

Morgana: With your mouth close!

Merlin: (tries to do that, but fails and starts coughing)

Morgana: Okay, close enough. At least your eyes are a bit watery. Now kneel and hold Lancelot's hands.

Merlin: (kneels before Lancelot and holds his hands)

Lancelot: (puts his hands away in reflex, scared)

Gwen: Lance!

Lancelot: Sorry. My survival instinct. Do we really have to hold hands?

Morgana: Yes, we have to make this as realistic as possible.

Lancelot: And the Prince won't come in at any moment?

Gwen: The doors are closed and Arthur is too busy with this whole rebellion thing. You are safe, love.

Lancelot: (blushes a little at the use of the nickname) Alright (holds Merlin's hands, though he's still tense)

Morgana: Now, Merlin, your lines.

Merlin: (uncomfortable) Uh... Please, Arthur. Stop-

Morgana: No! You have to do it with more emotion!

Merlin: (raises his voice) Please, Arthur! Stop this! Is my fault (pats his chest)

Morgana: That hand, with more force! You're desperate!

Merlin: (hits his chest harder) I've caused all this!-

Morgana: The tears! where are the tears?!

Merlin: (tries to do Morgana's technice again but ends up doing a weird face) If blood is... spilled... I.... I can't live with myself...

Gwen: Now he looks constipated.

Morgana: The legs! Hug his legs!

Merlin: (hugs Lancelot's legs awkwardly)

Morgana: Tighter! You'll die if he doesn't change his mind!

Merlin: (hugs tighter)

Lancelot: (thinking, trying not to panic) Arthur won't come in, the doors are closed, Arthur won't come in, the doors are closed, Arthur won't come in-

Merlin: If you do this I'll... ARGH! I CAN'T DO THIS! (stands up, frustrated) I CAN'T CRY! THIS IS USELESS! I... (thinking) I lost my ability to cry like that long ago. I rarely cried in years and when I did I did it silently, swallowing my tears. Not even when I believed Arthur would die I cried like this. (Says, sad) We're doomed. The rebellion will happen, people will die and it will be all my fault, because I always ruin everything somehow! Maybe the problem all this time was me. Maybe Arthur would be actually better if I just didn't exist!

Gwen: ...

Lancelot: ...

Morgana: There! You have to hold to that emotion when you cry to Arthur.

Merlin: Didn't you just hear me? I CAN'T CRY!

Morgana: That can be arranged.

Time skip. In Gaius' tower.

Merlin: (enters) Gaius.

Gaius: How was your reunion? Did you find a solution?

Merlin: (hesitanly) I think, but... I need something... from you.

Gaius: (confused) What is it that you need?

Merlin: Do you have something there that can... make someone's eyes tear like... a lot?

Gaius: I think so, but... What's the plan exactly?

Merlin: Literally cry my way out of this.

....

Will Merlin be able to cry to the prince? find out in the next episode of "Merlin: the apple of discord"

Also credits to my best friend Rosangela, who gave me most of the ideas for diolagues in this part and others too.

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @cute-girl-next-door , @bogslob , @tkmaras , @cunts-and-kermits

[sweetiesicheng]

mingi - after school

word count : 653

-

"y/n!" someone calls your name. you turn around, but before you can say anything, your classmate shouts, "mingi's in a fight!"

"what?" you speak in astonishment.

"come on, let's see if he's okay," your friend says to you.

all of you follow your classmate across the school and find students in a crowd.

you manage to push your way to the front and find mingi leaning against the lockers. he has blood running down his forehead and some splotches of blood on his uniform. he's breathing heavy, and you also notice how red his fists are.

there's another student standing in the middle of the hallway, clearly ready to throw more punches at your boyfriend. some more people push through, and you see some of the seniors coming through.

"hey, quit it already," one of them says to the person fighting mingi. "mingi, you're letting the kid win?" he asks.

"nah, just letting him stay awake," mingi replies and wipes the blood on his face.

"you wanna keep going? i'll make sure you land straight to the floor," the guy fighting mingi speaks.

"hey, back it off. the teachers are threatening to cancel a bunch of stuff already. i'm not letting a first year ruin this," one of mingi's friends, san, speaks up. "hey, get you and your girl out of here. she shouldn't see this anymore," he says to mingi.

mingi looks around and sees you. he picks up his backpack from the ground and grabs your hand.

—

"we're supposed to be on a date right now. why did you get into another fight?" you scold mingi, who sits on a bench in front of you. you had walked to a local park to be away from your school. "i can't believe you got into a fight with him," you say to him as you treat his wounds. "like seriously, it's not worth it, mingi."

"you've said that like twenty times already, y/n. ow!" you had hit him on the back of the head. "what was that for? what if i had a concussion?!" he asks.

"stop being dramatic," you reply as you put ointment on a wound. "what do you want? batman or my little pony?" you ask as you’re about to get a bandaid from a small box you keep in your work bag.

"you don't have regular ones?"

"my little pony it is."

"wait! batman. batman!" he pleads. you huff and grab a batman bandaid from the first aid kit. you unwrap the bandaid and put it on his forehead, making mingi whine. "in the middle of my forehead?" he questions.

"i'm surprised that you only needed one bandaid. you're lucky that the idiot was a first year," you say to him, clearly angry at him.

"baby," mingi calls out to you. "can you stop being mad at me?" he asks. "i'll stop getting into fights, i swear."

you cross your arms at him. "that's what you said to me last time," you remind him.

"he's the one that provoked me!" he argues. "listen, i know i'm dumb, but this idiot was dumber for thinking he could win."

you stare at him before giving in. you start packing your first aid kit, putting it back in your bag that you bring to work. "i just don't like seeing you get into fights," you say to him. "like what if you get seriously hurt? i cry easily and i cry enough already, so stop fighting so my blood pressure doesn't skyrocket."

mingi leans in to kiss you. "can i buy you dinner to make it up to you?" he asks.

"you always buy dinner for me."

"okay but this is to make sure you forgive me. i'm just a gentleman naturally." you roll your eyes at him. "hey! i saw that."

you kiss his forehead, where the batman bandaid is. "buy me a plushie."

"i'll buy you ten."

[pipi-un-kaki-in-pipi-land]

your works are jaw dropping broOOO. gorgeous. a work of art. you SLAY at writing hcs i love it so much i really hope you can write more <33

demon slayer povs: the hashiras tending to your wounds

this comment really motivated me to write more of this TYSM ANON ily

wc: 1.1k>

Giyu

he’d probably complete the whole procedure silently, as he’s scared you’d waste your energy talking to him

you saw him carefully unwrapping the bandages and painstakingly wrapping it around your arm as you slightly winced at the pain

‘oh-, y/n, you okay? sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,”

you reassured him with a small nod as he gently continued to wrap the bandage, placing a kiss on it once he was done

“thanks hun,” you smiled weakly at him

“get well soon, darling,” he said before he got up to fetch some water

Iguro

just like giyu, he’d do it with silent treatment though you’d hear kaburamaru’s quiet hisses along the way

throughout the bandaging, he momentarily stopped as it reminded himself of the time where he had to bandage his own mouth to hide his traumatic scars

“darling, you okay?” you asked, worried at the sudden slight widening of his eyes

“oh, its nothing,” he shrugged it off, but you sensed that it had something to do with the bandage on his mouth

while he was calmly wrapping the wound on your leg, you leaned down and placed a heartfelt kiss on his forehead

“you're beautiful just the way you are,” you said as he glanced up at you

his eyes crinkled slightly; you knew that put a smile on his face

Mitsuri

she’d probably tend to your wounds the loudest way possible, constantly asking if you were okay

“oh dear, y/n, this looks terrible,” a pouty frown emerged on her face as she cleansed your wounds with cotton pads. “you okay??”

“im fine, honey, don’t worry too much,” you replied with a smile as you admiringly watched her bandage up the injuries on your knee

“alrighty! i hope this makes you feel better, darling. i put some ointment that kocho offered,” she smiled cheerfully, as she gave you a gentle headpat

“thanks ‘suri, youre the best,” you returned her smile with an even happier one from you

Muichiro

would be quiet too but would occasionally check up on you

he’d go like “oh, does this hurt?” or “you feeling okay?”

you were technically the only person he could express his true behavior to

he’d be experienced in this kind of stuff since he had to take care of his mom when she was sick

the thought of his sick mom made him want to protect you even more. he’d already lost his family, he couldn’t afford to lose you too

he’d treat the wound as meticulously as possible to prevent it from worsening

“thank you, mui. you don't know how much i treasure you,” you warmly smiled at him

though he didn’t say anything back, you knew his smile was all you needed to see.

Kyojuro

tbh i feel like he’ll just treat you like how he treated tanjiro when he got stabbed during the mugen train arc

“kyo, it huuurts,” you whined, hoping that he’ll do something instead of keep asking you to control your breathing

“okay okay, i’ll go fetch the med kit. make sure to control your breathing to stop the blood from coming out!” he darted to the other end of the house to get the necessities, his voice still loud as ever

when he got back, he tended to your lacerations as gently as possible, doing all of it with a proud smile on his face

“why the long face, y/n?” he noticed that your usual happy aura had dissipated all of a sudden

“i- i just hate being weak. i hate that you have to get distracted by your missions just to tend to my injuries,” you pouted, biting your lip

“my love, its part & parcel of your journey to make mistakes. as you continue on, you’ll find that these obstacles are nothing compared to what you’re actually facing. so, heads up, and look brightly into your future, okay?” he cheered you on while giving you a soft pat on the shoulder

“thank you, kyo.” you gratefully smiled as you dozed the rest of the evening off

Sanemi

he definitely wasn’t the best at playing it gentle

“ouuuch, nemi, be gentler please,” you winced as he placed a bandaid on your collarbone

“bold of you to say, y/n. somehow you don’t act like this when we’re making out,” he sneered, as he discarded the cotton wools in the trash

you were left speechless as an obvious blush sprawled across your face. only your boyfriend could make you like that, and you loved him for it

“yeah that’s right hun. now be a good toy and rest till i come back,” he taunted, though you swore you heard him mutter “get well soon darling” before he uttered those words

Tengen

he most likely cleans injuries with flamboyance no matter how bad it was

definitely has custom bandages embroidered with random stuff just for you

you saw him putting on gloves and stuff although your wound was really mild

“tengen- babe, there’s no need for all this,” you sighed in embarrassment; your boyfriend would go out of his ways just to treat a mild scratch

“nuh uh, i aint letting you pass with this wound. it could be infected, who knows?” he cocked his eyebrow as he placed a not-so-modest looking bandage on your wound

“aight, i really hope that helps, darling! want me to bring you some munchies?” he chuckled as he packed back up the amenities

“there’s really no need for that, babe. you’ve done more than enough,” you smiled, softly caressing his cheek

obviously he couldn’t care less about your response as he brought you snacks and then cuddled the night away

Shinobu

DEFINITELY would come up with an antidote just to cure your injury

“darling, we need you back on the ground as soon as possible. all your mentees are worried for you, and i can't bear seeing you in a state like this, okay?”

in this case, your injuries were quite bad and she had to put you on an iv drip

after she was done tending to your wounds, she placed a soft kiss on your cheek

“get well soon, honey,” she smiled as she rubbed her thumb on your fingers

“thank you, love. i’ll definitely recover fast thanks to you,” you chuckled weakly, squeezing her hand and never letting go

[littlestarconch]

Corruption

💌 Pairing || Xavier x Reader

→ Slightly Suggestive ; Lowkey Yandere? Xavier ; Unestablished Relationship ; Quite Literal Opposite of Original! Xavier

🪄 :: No because the corrupted xavier fanarts are everywhere, and I can no longer stay quiet about it

"Found you.."

You were fighting a wanderer, and seems like the God of luck despise you today. You were injured, not too bad that you can't move. But the injuries do slow you down, you contacted the first person that came to mind, not knowing what exactly happened on his side.

And then there's a black shadow appeared before you within a blink of an eye, the next second the wanderer disappeared. You sighed in relief upon seeing, a familiar yet, also not familiar figure at the distance.

"... Xavier?— ..Why's your clothes all— black, now—? Wait no, that doesn't matter.. Thank y—" Before you could finish your sentence your figure is engulfing into his arms. "Shh.. I'll take care of you." And the next moment you're getting picked up bridal style, "Wh—?!?!! X, Xavier! You don't need to go this far—" "You can't walk, you'll only slow me down."

You pouted at his statement, but he's not entirely wrong either, with the injuries you have, you'll definitely slow him down. So you stayed still and quiet in his arms.

After walking for awhile, Xavier told you to close your eyes, only for you to open them and you're already at a different place. It's his apartment, he sat you down at the couch. "Stay." He said firm before leaving you all alone in the living room.

Something seems off from him, he seemed, much more.. bolder than usual? Also his bangs are covering his other eye, the light in his eyes seems dimmer than before. You frowned upon the discovery, and you snapped out of your pondering the moment you heard footsteps coming to where you are.

"..Let me see the injuries" Xavier said, as he kneeled before you, waiting for you to show him where your injuries are. "I- ..I can do it myself!—" You were about to grab the spray, he moved his hand out of your reach. "Show me the injuries where you can let me see" he said, you sighed and eventually showed him some spots and let him spray your wounds.

After he's done, he gave the spray to you and went back to his room, you looked at his retreating figure confusedly. And the next second he walked out empty handed, "I prepared a change of clothes, you can heal the rest of your wounds in my room, I'll be waiting for you out here" He started off.

"If you need help, call me"

. . .

You're now in his room, all alone. You stared at the spare clothes Xavier put on his bed, you frown at the sight. Your eyes slowly drifted down to the spray in your hold, you recalled on how Xavier behaved around you, how he spoke, how his voice sounded.. lower than usual too.

You shook the thoughts away as you tried to patch yourself up, but after awhile you seemed to struggle on one. So you sat at the edge of his bed, contemplates if you should call him or not. But your lips seemed to have a mind of its own, your voice echoed throughout the room, calling his name.

And then you heard footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, closer and closer, and eventually you heard a familiar voice behind the door. ".. What's wrong?" He asked oh so softly, "I, Uhm, I need help with something"

. . .

You don't know how you ended up in this situation, but your back facing Xavier, you're not wearing his shirt, you're only in your undergarment. But you did wear his pants. It's definitely, too long for you. But that aside, you're biting back a hiss upon Xavier applying ointment on your wounds on your back.

"..Okay, we're done" He said, you sighed in relief when you heard that. "Thank you Xavier.." You thanked him, but he was so quiet behind you. And when you're about to check up on him, he suddenly pulled you into his arms. "Xav—" You were about to call out his name, but then you felt something soft and warm at your nape.

It's his lips.

"Hmm.." He hummed softly, his arms wrapped slightly tighter around you. "Next time.." He sighed, "Bring me with you, okay? " He said, sounded like he demand you to do what he said to be precise. "But you're—" When you're about to retort you heard him grunt in disapproval, that made you shut up for a moment.

"Okay, fine.." "Good" He whispered huskily right next to your ear, making you shiver in his hold. "I don't want to see you in this state again in the future" his hand dangerously went down to your lower half, slowly sliding to your thighs. To inner thighs, "Xavier—.." Your breathing start to get ragged, "Hm?" He hummed back but his lips didn't stop.

His lips continue leaving trail of kisses, down from your earlobe, to your neck, to your shoulder. Sometimes even nibbling on your skin as he did so, "What?.." You glanced at his figure from the corner of your eyes. "W, what are you doing..." You asked, and your eyes immediately drifted down to where his hands are.

They have found their way to your inner thighs, gliding closer, dangerously closer to where you probably want him to touch. "Giving you love?.." He sounded unsure, and he stopped moving for one moment. Before he continue his onslaught on you, your breath hitched when he nibbled on your earlobe.

"Stay with me tonight" He whispered, "I'll take care of you.."

"...I promise I'll be gentle"

©littlestarconch

🪄 :: I am fine, live laugh love Xavier. I'll probably post something about Rafayel later.. maybe..

[buck-up-buck]

Tommy pushed the door open and helped Evan into his loft, holding the majority of his weight, a pharmacy bag hanging loosely at his other side.

"Easy, nice and slow." He kicked the door closed behind them, dropping the bag to the floor and stopping so Evan could catch his breath. The trip from the car up to the fourth floor had taken its toll on him, his breath coming out in short pants against Tommy's neck. "Couch, or bed?"

"Couch is fine." He huffed out, closing his eyes for a second before nodding, showing Tommy he was ready to start moving again.

"All your weight on me, okay?" They carried on the same way until they finally reached the couch, Tommy lowering Evan down slowly, making sure to keep his bad leg off the ground. Once he was sat down, he grabbed two of the cushions from the arm chair so that Evan could elevate his leg.

"Thank you." Evan sighed heavily, leaning his head back as he tried to get his breathing back under control, Tommy taking this time to head to the kitchen. Maddie had texted him before he picked Evan up from the hospital to let him know she had stocked his fridge and cupboards, so they should be good for a few days. He knew Evan was just about due another round of painkillers, so he grabbed an electrolyte drink from the fridge and then ran to the entryway, picking the bag up and depositing it on the kitchen side.

He chose for the time being to put aside the burn ointment, knowing he would need to redress Evan's bandages later on, but would wait until his pain had subsided some and he had at least had a nap. Taking out two painkillers, he headed back to Evan and knelt down next to his head, watching as he turned his head to the side, sending Tommy a small smile.

"Hi." He whispered, Tommy's heart fluttering.

"Hey. I have your painkillers and a drink for you." Placing a kiss on Evan's forehead, Tommy helped him sit up, leaving him to take the pills while he reached over the back of the couch for Evan's large throw blanket, draping it over his frame. "You should get some rest." Evan nodded and took one last swig of his drink before screwing the lid on and popping the bottle on the coffee table, staring up at Tommy who was standing at his head, arms hovering as if wanting to reach out and say something.

Buck knew he probably had somewhere to be, and was just making sure he didn't need anything else before he headed out for the night, but Buck was a pro at tending to his own injuries alone.

This, unfortunately, was not his first rodeo.

"I'm good Tommy, you can go if you need to."

"What? You want me to leave?" The frown on Tommy's face was adorable. Buck had grown to love kissing away his frown lines, using his mouth to literally turn his frown upside down.

"I mean, no, of course I don't want you to leave, but I'm home now. You don't have to hover, I'm more than capable of handling the rest on my own." Tommy crouched down near Buck's head and he chose now to pout, tilting his head up to try and catch Tommy's lips, but the man didn't move any closer, staying at arms length away from Buck which just would not do. "Babe seriously, I'm fine, but I won't be fine if you don't at least give me a kiss goodbye."

"I'm not giving you a kiss goodbye, Evan, because I am not going anywhere." Now it was Buck's turn to frown, his pout dropping off his face. "You really think I would just drop you off here and then head out for the night? You've just spent three days in the hospital, I'm not going anywhere unless you choose to kick me out your front door yourself."

"But- I'm fine?" His response came out as more of a question than a statement. Buck wasn't fine, he knew that. He had some pretty nasty burns, on his bad leg as well, and would probably be in a decent amount of pain for a while, but he was home now, and that was a start. He wasn't about to let Tommy waste away while he got better, Tommy didn't sign up for that. "You didn't sign up to be stuck looking after me, Tommy."

"And you didn't sign up for a crazy guy trapping you in a burning building, Evan"

"He wasn't crazy."

"Oh no, he was most definitely crazy." This got a laugh out of Evan, Tommy leaning forward to kiss his smile, before pulling back with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously Evan. I know we didn't sign up for any of this, but I am not going anywhere. We are on this recovery train together."

"So, me being injured on the job doesn't freak you out?"

"No more so than being injured in my own line of work does. It happens, but it doesn't mean you have to deal with it on your own." Oh, and if the heartbrokenly relieved look on Evan's face didn't shatter Tommy's heart. "Like I said, I am not going anywhere. Now, close your eyes, get some rest, and I will still be here when you wake up." Sniffling, Evan nodded, allowing himself to sink further into the couch, the soft sound of Tommy's breathing next to him lulling him to sleep.

@whollyjoly talking about parallels earlier inspired this so, enjoy!

[octuscle]

I’d like to know if you could help me! I want to be a professional open bodybuilder (just like Nick Walker, Derek Lunsford), but, at the same rate my muscles grow, so do my male musk (specifically sweat musk from my armpits and cock) - no shower, deodorant or anything else will clean/cover my strong smell - until the point people around me get dizzy with my musk, start to complain and ask me to leave the places. With more muscles and less body fat, more sweating and musk until it reaches a strong level that people start to avoid me from fear of my muscles and my intense gym musk! Could you help me with that? Thanks a lot!

It's always the same people who are unhappy. You're rich, you've inherited, you don't have to work. You look dazzling, you know the right people, you're always invited to the best parties. And you don't feel like it anymore? You want to change that? Do I have a free hand? Then I'll get started!

You're sitting with a few friends in your favorite bar and tell them about your plan. More out of politeness than anything else, everyone says it sounds very exciting. You loosen your tie knot and undo the top button of your shirt. Phew, that's how you get your breath back. But you still need some fresh air, it's too crowded and stuffy in here. And somehow you don't feel like going back to the sissies. You feel more like going home, maybe doing a few more press-ups and then going to bed. After a few steps, you take a deep breath. And the top button of your shirt is blown off your chest like a projectile. The seams of your suit trousers are dangerously taut.

In the stairwell of the magnificent old building next to the city park where you live, the first seams crack. Thank God you don't meet anyone. By the time you get back to your apartment, your slim-fit tailored suit is in tatters. Somehow you're not even surprised. You tear off what's left of your clothes and stuff everything into the garbage can. Even your underpants no longer fit properly and are thrown away. You go naked to your dressing room and do a few push-ups, then squats, then a round of sit-ups until you're drenched in sweat. You stand in front of the mirror. Yes, you've gone through a growth spurt. And you stink. Sweat and musk. Delicious. But you still take a shower. The towel smells awful after drying off. And you don't feel a bit cleaner.

When you wake up the next morning, your cleaning lady has opened all the windows and is airing out the apartment. When she hears your footsteps on the way to the bathroom, she comes around the corner and is about to ask you where this unpleasant smell is coming from. You almost collide. You are still naked, scratching your hairy balls while still half asleep. Your cleaning lady turns bright red with fright. Then she holds her nose. You smell your armpit and say with a grin, "Excuse me, Maria, I'd better go and have a shower". In the bathroom, the laundry basket smells like a football team's changing room. You jump in the shower, but it doesn't seem to do any good this morning either. Damn, you might as well go to your workout. At least everyone there smells of sweat.

Damn, that was a really good workout. You pose in front of the mirror. Your sweaty tank top on the floor. During the workout you were incredibly focused on the weights, only now do you realize how disgusted the other customers are looking at you

You check your reflection again. Holy shit, you look really good, what's wrong with them all? Probably just jealous. You pick up your tank top from the floor. Somehow it smells a bit. You hold it up to your nose. Yes, it's sweat and musk. Maybe a little intense. You love it. The smell makes your cock hard. The sweat stains on your sweatpants are joined by precum stains. You need to take a shower now. And wank.

When you check out, the receptionist looks at you in disgust. He puts some ointment under his nose and puts on a face mask. He informs you that the studio requires a minimum level of personal hygiene from its customers. Several customers have already complained. He asks you to come showered and with fresh clothes next time.

Yes, you smell bad despite the shower. You walk back home because you don't feel like complaining again on the subway. Normally a pleasant walk. But for one thing, your legs are really exhausted from training. On the other hand, you feel that you easily weigh 20 pounds more than you did yesterday. You look in the mirror of a shop window as you pass by. Fuck, yeah! You see the reflection of a serious amateur bodybuilder.

You're too exhausted to climb the stairs to your apartment. You get into the elevator. Mrs. Spencer from the floor below you shouts for you to hold the elevator and barely slips through the closing door with her daughter. She holds her nose in disgust. And her daughter, perhaps four years old, asks why the big man smells so bad. Phew, the elevator isn't big anyway. Today it feels even narrower.

That was all a few weeks ago now. You left your impressive apartment because the stuffy neighbors were getting on your nerves. The nagging was unbearable. You thought that the cheap apartment building where you were staying temporarily was really just a temporary solution. But there are a lot of guys living here who are like you: fuck the opinions of others, the main thing is that you grow up. Really big! When you walk through the front door, you take a deep breath. It must have smelled something like this in a Neanderthal cave.

Since you've been banned from your hairdresser, you cut your hair yourself. You like it, it looks even more brutal and masculine. Even in your hardcore gym, your stench stands out. But here the other musclemen envy you for it. Hehehe, and there's always someone who will even pay money to press his face into your armpit or suck your cheesy cock. Your life is great!

Pics found @antoinepaul and @maxx-magnum

[bethelighthalazia]

Terrifying - Part 2

Summary:  Yunho feels horrible for scaring and hurting you, so he apologizes and promises to do everything to show you how important you are to him and how much he loves you.

Genre:  angst, fluff

Pairing: bf!Yunho X fem!reader

Word Count:  1753

Warnings: mentions of wounds/scratches, mentions of hurting, sad Yuyu, mentions of crying, insecure reader

networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

[note: thank you, @ja3hwa for helping me with finding a good ending paragraph <3]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

At the dorms, the others were around you the moment Mingi stepped through the main entrance. San took you out of Mingi´s arms, who then left again to check on Yunho while you were placed on the big sofa. Wooyoung had already grabbed blankets to cuddle up in the living room with you to watch any movie you want. It seems that Yunho had called the others, the second you and Mingi had left the apartment, to tell them what happened. 

“Y/n, could I check on your wounds please?” Seonghwa asked with a gentle voice, a first aid kit in his hand while he sat down on the sofa next to you. You nodded, wiping your face with one hand while holding your other arm out towards him. “Oh, you´re wearing the bracelet we got you!” A smile on Seonghwa´s face, he gently dabbed some disinfectant ointment on the scratches, causing you to wince ever so slightly every time. “Do- do you think he's mad at me now? I- I think I hurt his feelings…” You sniffled quietly, some new tears appearing in your eyes, but before Seonghwa could answer, you´re pulled into a tight hug by Wooyoung who shakes his head no. 

“He's more worried about you being mad at him, y/n.” Jongho said, carrying a bowl with your favorite snacks over to you. “Don´t worry, he loves you, that I am absolutely sure of.” 

When he put down the bowl, the maknae gave you a soft squeeze to the shoulder before then leaving the room, he didn't want you to possibly get overwhelmed with too many people around for now. Hongjoong also came over to the sofa and placed a kiss on top of your head, something he had done almost ever since you met the boys, because he sees you as his sister, and then whispered something to Seonghwa before leaving to go check on Yunho as well, knowing you're in the best hands.

Yeosang just stayed quiet, sitting on the other sofa and turning on the TV for you, knowing well which ones are your favorites to watch. Your head was now resting on Wooyoung´s shoulder, you felt your eyes getting heavy, but you didn't want to fall asleep yet, too scared that nightmares could haunt your dreams. “Woo? Why- why do you all seem so calm?” You asked after a few moments, frowning a bit when you realized that they are too calm for what happened. When Wooyoung exchanges looks with San, Seonghwa and Yeosang, you swallow hard. Is there something they don't want to tell you? A secret that they hide from you?

“Y/n, I think-” “That's something Yunho should tell you himself, y/nnie.” Mingi, who just entered the dorms again, cut off Seonghwa who was trying to answer you, but then the others just nod at Mingi´s words. When you heard his voice, your head perked up, accidentally hitting Wooyoung's chin slightly, your eyes wide. “Mingi, how-” “He is okay, Hongjoong hyung is with him now to help clean up your apartment. He sent me here to see how you feel and if you need anything.” Mingi hummed, coming over to sit on the floor right in front of the sofa. 

“I'm…okay?” With a raised eyebrow, Mingi looked at you, he could always tell if you´re telling the truth or not and often, he even knows better how you feel than you do yourself. With a little sigh, you shrugged, not even sure how exactly you feel. But you weren't in pain anymore, that is something you can say for sure.

“Really Mingi…I am not in pain or anything, I just-” “You´re confused, right?” Nodding, you fully focused on your best friend, Wooyoung laid an arm around you again to calm you down a bit. No one spoke for a while, just letting you relax and hopefully doze off a bit. It indeed almost worked, your eyes heavy while your head rested against Wooyoung´s shoulder and Mingi caressed your hands in a soothing manner, you almost fell asleep.

That is, until a jingle of keys, quiet voices and the sound of a door unlocking is heard. your head jerked up, again hitting Wooyoung´s chin, when you heard your boyfriend´s voice answering to Hongjoong. Mingi got to his feet almost instantly, staring at the entryway, where soon Hongjoong and Yunho appeared. “Hyung, are you-” “Everyone out, except for y/n, Mingi and Yunho.” Hongjoong said and, to everyone's surprise, the room actually cleared. The captain just patted Yunho ́s back gently before leaving as well, but you knew that he’d be just one room further, so he could intervene if needed.

While Mingi just stared at them, Yunho had only eyes for you, an expression like a beaten puppy on his face. You know that he's feeling horrible, knowing that Yunho is not the type of person to hurt others purposefully. Yet, your body flinched slightly when he took a step closer to the sofa, your movement causing him to freeze on the spot. Mingi sat down on the armchair nearby, just in case, but he didn't intervene at all. 

“Y/n, love I-” Yunho started, but then got quiet, not sure what he could say to undo his actions. “I know that nothing I say would make you forget that I hurt you…and I-” He took a deep breath, just standing in the middle of the room, not coming closer to you for now. “I would understand if you'd hate me and never want to see me anymore.” His voice got quieter with every word he spoke, you could see how hard it is to talk while knowing that you probably are scared of him now. “But please…could I try to explain? I won't try to make any excuses, because I know my behavior was absolutely unacceptable and no excuse or apology could undo it.”

With a short glance over to Mingi who gave a reassuring nod, you then nod as well, patting the free space on the sofa next to you. “O- okay…I have a question though…are you still mad at me?” You asked quietly, to which Yunho quickly took a few steps over to you to take your hand, just to then freeze when you flinch. “S- sorry, I didn't mean to scare you again-” He whispered, slowly kneeling down in front of you, taking your hand in his. “But please, y/nnie, my love, my heart, I could never be mad at you. I wasn't even upset with you earlier, but with myself and all the stress I had the last weeks…I tend to bottle it all up and sometimes it just bursts out of me. Usually I would come here and tell Mingi, then we would go to the gym or something, but this time, I didn't…and let it out on you.”

Yunho's voice broke, the thought of hurting you already let him get teary and his heart dropped. “B- before I asked you to be my girlfriend, I swore to myself to never have such an outburst near you…and now I even scarred you because of it-” Pulling his hands away, he sat on the back of his feet, still kneeling in front of you, his head dropped against his chest. He truly looked like a sad puppy and you would love to pull him into a soothing embrace, yet you cannot bring yourself to do so. Even though you knew that he meant every word, and that he would never purposefully hurt you, you cannot shake off the fear and the broken trust between the two of you.

“Yunho-” You whispered, his frame getting smaller as he curled into himself , almost slumping in front of you when you didn't use your usual nickname for him. This was what Yunho always had feared; to hurt you and to push you away from him. “I- I just…I still love you, but…but I also am scared. I trusted you with my life…but now? I don't- I don't know if I can trust you. So-” With another deep breath, you tried to steady your voice, tears again stinging in your eyes. “So please…give me time, okay? I love you…and I still want to be with you, but- but a trust that's broken like this…I don't know how long it might take to rebuild, but…but you will have to show me that I can trust you again…”

Yunho nodded silently, his mind racing. You still wanted to be with him, even though you knew that he would be capable of hurting you? His heart beat faster, with a quick movement, he wiped away his tears before looking up, he had no right to cry when he was the one who had hurt you. “I will do anything, jagiya. Everything to show you that you mean more to me than anything else.” He then said after a few moments of silence, his voice quiet but hopeful. “You are my everything, y/nnie, and I am so…so thankful that you give me this chance.”

You already knew that your heart forgave him the moment he called Mingi to get you out of the danger he might have gotten for you back then, proving already that he never wanted to hurt you in the first place. But, forgiving does not mean to immediately trust him again, both of you knew this. And both of you were ready to be patient. After a short glance around to reassure yourself that Mingi is still in the room with you two, you slowly moved, getting down from the sofa to hug Yunho, who's still kneeling in front of you. The hug felt awkward and you didn't keep this closeness for long, but when you whispered an “I love you, Yuyu” before leaning back, you could feel his heartbeat accelerate and a hopeful expression appeared on Yunho's face. 

“I love you, y/nnie. Thank you for letting me prove myself to you, even if I don't deserve your kindness after I hurt you like this…” You sat there in silence for a moment letting him say sorry over and over again, glancing at Mingi every now and then to make sure everything was okay. You knew this situation wasn't going to go away. And you knew he would stop at nothing to show you that you can trust him again. 

It was going to be a long road and Yunho was willing to travel down it. For you.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @jayshoneybee, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie,

@en-happiness, @kibs-and-bits

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[zarnzarn]

"Penelope," Odysseus whispers, heartbroken. She cannot stop crying enough to see him, and it makes her cry harder, even as the familiar scent of him moves closer and is followed by his arms around her, holding her up as she falls to pieces.

"I couldn't- I couldn't find-" She gasps for air, desperately hoping no one is around. Grief comes slamming into her like a tidal wave, laying her low with unrelenting memories of the injustice of wanting her husband home the most of anyone in the war and being the only to not get her wish and fear for how her reign would end and all the other feelings she should have gotten over already. "I couldn't find you," she sobs out finally, the words shaking out of her as her shoulders heave.

"Easy, my love, breathe," Odysseus coaxes, picking her up like it was nothing, tilting her at an angle that must be straining his shoulders to let her cling to him tighter. Cry, like it's the first time she realised how her wait had outlasted their marriage, where cannot breathe in for how hard she weeps, lungs burning. "Peace. I'm here, my darling, see, would a shade be able to do this?"

A choked, teary laugh is forced out of her as he spins on his heel suddenly, stopping her sobs with the momentum, leaving her gasping for breath and sniffing, shaking like a beaten dog, out in the rain. Alone and pawing at the memories of a warm hearth, with a pack's responsibilities on her shoulders and nowhere to set it down.

"See, now, there you go, drifting away again," Odysseus chides, twirling them both around once more, fast enough to make her half-squeal. "Am I so boring to you, compared to the mamba's nest of statespeople you have toyed with these long years? Must I put on a silly costume and dance around as entertainment, my dearest, tell you jokes and riddles to keep your attention? You wound me if you say yes, for I will lose the little respect our son still has for me."

She laughs wetly again at his chatter, the tempest in her head fading enough for the sobs to go from wailing to crying.

"Penelope," Odysseus sings her name in that strange way that sounds oddly like an owl's call, that no one can replicate. The chains around his feet jangle, a familiar sound she has trained herself into associating with her husband. She blinks the tears from her eyes, calming a little at the sound so she can see him. He clicks his tongue and wipes her tears away by rubbing their cheeks together, making her burst into choked giggles.

They don't last long, and she returns back to gasping for air as she runs out of energy, trembling.

Odysseus sighs, bittersweet, as he gives up on trying to make her laugh. Penelope sniffs, clinging on tight when she's suddenly lowered into soft sheets. "I'm here," He whispers, stroking her hair, letting her dig her nails in. "Oh, my poor beautiful wife. I'm back now. I would not leave for anything."

"I couldn't find you," Penelope whispers, small and scared. "I was calling for you from the door and there was no answer. I couldn't hear the chains. And no one knew where you were."

"All those who knew were with me, which won't happen again. I was only out at the merchants to see the new cloth with Tele," Odysseus murmurs. "Darling-"

"I cannot let go of the fear," She confesses in a rush. Closes her eyes and rocks them back and forth, trying to bury her face into Odysseus' shoulder and disappear into him. "Don't know how to convince myself that you are not an illusion. How to stop missing you, even when you are right in front of me. That I will wake up and still have to do it all alone."

Odysseus pulls back and stares at her, devastated, tears in his eyes. He opens his mouth and shuts it, helplessly. "Sweetest of my heart," he says finally, and lowers himself down on top of her so she can feel the full weight of him, smell his sweat and the ointment he applies on his scars and the juices of the fruit he fed her that morning by hand.

(Telemachus had sighed the sigh of the long-suffering when he took his seat next to them that morning for breakfast. "Must you?"

"Must we what?" Penelope had teased, and then opened her mouth for another fruit from her husband's hand, who was hiding a laugh in her hair, perched on her lap, his chair knocked to the side and lying sadly on the floor.

Telemachus shook his head, mock-disappointed and sighed louder.

"Come," Odysseus had said, patting his own lap. "Here, Tele, I will feed you too. Come."

"I'm not a dog," Telemachus had complained, over Penelope's sudden protests about not agreeing to this- and then came over and jumped up into Odysseus' grasp anyway, making Penelope yell at the sudden weight and her two rascals cackle at her.)

"Odysseus," She whispers as she exhausts of her crying and interspersing sobs an hour later, letting it curl on her tongue. She had stopped saying it, when the looks around her transformed from sympathy to concern over her sanity, and it became a political decision to not say her husband's name until he returned.

"Penelope," He returns, tightening his arms around her until her ribs creak. She sometimes wishes he were a violent man, that war had changed him enough to be rough with her, so she would have bruises to carry around to remind her he was there with her. But if he was, would she love him still?

"Give me something," She begs. She feels incredibly small and stupid, shaking like a child, and it is the only the fact that her real husband wouldn't falter or recoil in the face of her weaknesses and breakdowns that keeps her talking. "Something to prove you're here, please, please, husband-"

"Peace, Penelope," Odysseus says, in a voice sterner than he's ever used with her; the one he uses in court, making her stomach swoop. He moves back when he feels her tense under her, and studies her expression with a sharp eye. She loves him more than anything, would gladly slit open her torso to give him her innards if he so much as implied a passing fancy to having them, but even that isn't enough to fend off the slight bloom of mortification when realisation flashes across his eyes.

He kisses her, harder than usual, and she tries to focus on it rather than her still-racing thoughts.

"You are no longer Queen of Ithaka," Odysseus says, low and final, and the horrifying shock of the sentence nearly makes her moan. "Not in this room. You have held the burden of the kingdom for fifteen long years, and now you will let me make you put it down."

"No," Penelope protests, between kisses. She is still coming down from the fear planted in her by all the strong women that buoyed her these years, who grimly predicted that her husband would snatch the throne back as soon as he returned, coupled with the guilty relief that she no longer had to be in charge, no matter that it was by force. "I love her. My Ithaka. Rough and beautiful."

Odysseus huffs, smiling against her skin. "She loves you too. Which is why you must listen to her beckoning for you to rest." He punctuates his sentence by pressing down on her stomach, entire body weight on his hands as he drags his palms up her abdomen, between her breasts, up to her shoulders. "Relax, Penny. The kingdom wants for nothing, food is overabundant, no one fights, no ruler gives us trouble. You do not have to hold everything together on your own anymore."

Penelope snorts. "Ithaka says so, does she?"

"Am I not Ithaka?" Odysseus says, voice twisting and changing until it sounds like a woman speaking. Penelope is hit sideways by lust, stomach flipping at the smirk sent her way. It gets wider at her expression, as he leans down and croons, "Penelope."

"Oh, gods," Penelope says, strangled, bracing herself on his shoulders.

"Give you something," Odysseus muses, in that same voice, that lights on fire the part of her that used to be obsessed with the stable master's daughter. "How about..."

He picks up her hand and kisses her wrist gently, tenderly, like it is the most delicate of pottery, the most precious of gems. He rubs a hand over her veins once lovingly, then fits his teeth around them, eyes flashing with heat as he glances over her.

Her heart skips a beat. She nods. He bites down with canines sharper than he'd left with and she screams.

"Oh," She gasps when it's done, looking at the bleeding wound lovingly marked around her pulsepoint. Her husband tips her chin up and she smiles finally, stretching up to meet his bloody kiss. "Oh, more. More, Ody."

"As my wife desires," He murmurs, possessiveness catching fire in his eyes as he turns to set his teeth to his neck- still not violent, but perhaps the slightest bit loosened from the leash.

Penelope moans, vision hazy as her head rolls, staring up at the ceiling. She takes a deep breath, then another, letting the panic recede in the face of a daydream of wandering around with a necklace of bruises every day, until they grow old.

He always knows how to handle her so well. She had begun to think she'd imagined it, how well the man she married had met her at every turn, every trick. Yet only a few months in his return and still he guides her expertly from all the bad things in life like a sheepdog, like an overanxious newlywed; some days making her so happy that the fifteen years past had never happened.

"You will look at these and remember no one else could leave them but me," Odysseus orders, the sneer of the rabid slaughterer in his gaze. It makes all the tension seep out of her, tears escaping in relief as she nods. "And I won't go out of earshot ever again, so you always can hear how you've chained your poor husband down like a mule, forever to trip over his own feet and smash into the floor."

"Chained you like a bird," Penelope corrects, her smug, thrilled smile returning at the reminder, reaching down to shorten the chain. "No more flying for you."

"None," He agrees.

Her smile wavers as the tail end of her grief comes sliding back. "Hold me?"

"Forever and ever and ever," He promises, wrapping his hands around her. She shakes in his hold. He kisses the side of her head, holding his wrist still scarred with her own teethmarks up to her lips in offering. Her eyes roll back as the familiar blood rolls over her tongue, calming the storm in her chest at last. He pulls his hand back and cards it through her hair, pulling out all the ornaments that mark her as Queen, staining them with blood. "I promise. Calm, Penelope."

"I'm calm," She sniffs wetly. "I wouldn't do it for anyone but you."

"Neither would I," Odysseus replies. "Would you like to have sex? I can please you with my mouth if you want."

Penelope snorts ungracefully at the formal way he still says it, like it's an offer to go fetch something from the kitchens. "No. Just hold me."

Odysseus murmurs something in response and starts humming, rocking then back and forth. Blood on both their mouths still.

"Actually-" Penelope says abruptly, and Odysseus bursts into laughter like she knew he would. She smiles at the sound, and closes her eyes to bathe in it, and carefully brings herself to take the first step to trusting that he will still be there when she opens them.

[luveline]

hi sweetie !!! I know you get a billion requests but if u have time maybe an eddie fluff with the reader trying to get out of a postpartum depression slump and hes taking care of her :3 as always no pressure ily!

hi lovely ily, ty for requesting ♡ 1.2k

cw reader has postpartum depression

"Aw, sweetheart," Eddie mumbles. 

You hear it through your tired haze, rubbing sleep from your eyes as your turn toward him and his shuffling. He's unexpectedly on the bedroom floor, the baby laid out on a changing matt. Your lips quirk into a smile as you watch him button a fresh baby grow closed around your son's tiny tummy. 

"You're so well behaved," Eddie continues, still mumbling, hand careful as it slides behind the baby's head. "There we go. Fresh as a daisy." 

You clear your throat and stretch against a cruel knot hiding between shoulder blades. "You okay?" you ask. 

Eddie looks at you like you've just asked him to marry you, love lining every feature. "I'm okay, are you okay? You were frowning in your sleep. Bad dreams?" 

"I can't remember." You try not to lose your small smile as you hold out your hands for the baby. 

You love your baby. That's not up for debate. But whenever you hold him, you feel like you should be happier. That turns to guilt, self-loathing —this has all been so hard. You knew it would be, but it doesn't matter how prepared you are. This is brain chemistry you can't fight. 

Eddie sits on the side of the bed and passes the baby to you carefully. You're relieved to find you missed him, tucking him with love against your chest. "Hi, beautiful. Hi." 

He's still so small, shiny with newness, his lips parted to show the pink of his tongue. You laugh under your breath, brushing the side of your hand along his cheek. 

"Did you, um… did you put the ointment on his rash?" you ask, leaning down to kiss the baby's forehead. "On his tummy?" 

"Yeah, I did." 

You nod and kiss the baby's head again quickly. "Okay, perfect. Will you take him back? Just so I can get up?" 

You have to start the day to avoid falling hard into the slump. Eddie takes him with no qualms. You worry he's held more by his father than you, and there's nothing wrong with that, but he's your baby, you just spent nine months baking him, nine whole months waiting for these moments. 

Eddie hugs the baby to his chest and pulls the sheets over both of them. He looks better kept than you even though he's been picking up your slack without complaint, hair clean and out of his face, fresh clothes to match the baby, a black Iron Maiden t-shirt unmarred by spit up and a pair of pyjamas pants you're pretty sure were yours once upon a time. They don't fit him right and he clearly doesn't care. He's good like that; he's obsessed with being close to you. 

Your depression postpartum has wedged him away. Not his fault, not yours, and not fair. You're gonna have to try as hard as you can to beat it, and hope against hope that it's enough. 

"I set some clothes out for you," Eddie says gently, stroking the baby's hair. "And a towel if you want to shower, but you don't need to. You should be okay until tonight." 

"You didn't have to," you say. Your throat feels peculiarly tight. 

"Yeah, I did. I know it's overwhelming in the morning for you. I thought the clothes would be one less thing." 

You nod hurriedly and turn away from him to change. You can feel his gaze as you step out of your pyjamas and into new sweatpants, the weight of his concern palpable. It's easier to talk about things when you aren't looking at them both, so you say, "I'm sorry you're doing all of this." 

"That's okay, it's not something you need to be sorry for." 

"No, because it's not fair. You're looking after two people." 

"That's what I signed up for. It's literally my job." You seize at the sound of the baby gurgling and whimpering, but Eddie pats his back, and the grizzling fades. "Sweetheart… would you come over here? Let me tell you to your face." 

That doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but you pull on the clean shirt Eddie's left on the dresser for you and sit with him as he asked. Only when he smiles at your chest do you realise it's the stupid gimmick shirt he got for you on your first anniversary. My boyfriend loves me more than yours does, it reads, big black font with a red heart behind boyfriend. 

Eddie holds out his hand, squeezing your fingers together slowly, as though he's collected them in his palm. His thumb rubs a dedicated line over your knuckles; you're surprised your skin doesn't show evidence of his touch, he strokes this path so often. 

"I'm not sorry that I've been taking care of you since he was born, and you shouldn't be either." He says it straight and fast, no hesitation, and no room for argument. "Understand? This isn't about me. This is about how you feel." 

"Don't be all serious with me," you plead in a murmur, eyes at his collar. 

"If you don't want me to be serious then I won't be. Regular viewing henceforth. But don't forget what I just said. Promise?" 

"Yeah, promise." You reach out to twist the baby's hair around your fingertip, smiling when he shivers, tickled by your touch. He's a beautiful kid. Your partner stamped him well. All your awful feelings aren't anything to do with him, though his birth was undoubtedly the tipping point. He hasn't done anything wrong, this fog of melancholy hangs around no matter how beautiful he is, and you can't help hating yourself for the way you feel. "He's perfect," you whisper, eyes aching with the want to cry. 

"You did a great job," Eddie says agreeably, pushing his fingers between yours to intertwine your hands. 

"Do you think he knows I really do love him?" You can barely hear yourself. It's a miracle that Eddie can respond. 

"Undeniably. Sweetheart, I know there have been days where you didn't hold him, and that's not good for either of you, I can't lie to you and tell you it doesn't affect him, but it's not your fault. It just isn't. You're gonna keep trying and I'm gonna keep making sure you can, and things will get better. I swear to you." 

You feel as though you'd happily fall into a pit, but with Eddie sworn to take care of you, and the world's prettiest baby in his arms, you force yourself to sit beside him in bed. It's easy to soak in the heat of him as he wraps and arm around you, and easier to take the baby from his arms when the crying begins. 

"Don't feel guilty, but he misses you," Eddie says, covering your hand where it holds the baby's back. "He's happy to see you, look." 

The baby looks like a baby. It's hard to say that he's smiling, but there is something there. Love in his little eyes. You manage to smile for real this time, toying with his tiny hand, swiftly on your way to joyous as he wraps his fingers around your index. 

"You're doing so well," Eddie praises, his hair brushing your ear as he ducks in to kiss your cheek. 

"I think I'm feeling a bit better." 

"Good. One step closer to taking over the world." 

Eddie climbs out of bed with a mission to gather your meds and a quick breakfast. You stay in bed with the baby, holding him. Eddie's made it so that it's the only thing you have to do.