#i sincerely think these two are more likely to bite each other than to kiss

[thatgirlwithasquid]

🦷B🦷I🦷T🦷E🦷

[loveydovey-leviathan]

(for your recent post)

hmmm how about mal and reader were having an argument or sumn then he's like " hmph let's not talk to each other for now >:( " so you grant him some space/or silent treatment and mal is like dramatically waiting for u to talk to him for HOURS in his room just brooding there and when he realize you're still ignoring him, he's like a pathetic sad wet cat needy for ur attention now bcs he couldn't stand being apart from u.

im sorry for the basic ass idea lol 😭 im just a sucker for silent treatment scenarios like this

malleus x gn! reader

a/n: written as romantic -> FOAMING AT THE MOUTH, IM A SUCKER FOR THESE TOO 😔😔 hope i did this justice

.

one of the many things malleus adores about you is your stubbornness. the way you don't back down against what you think is wrong is something that will always set him ablaze with admiration for you.

though he doesn't quite like it when that pride is directed at him.

he's realizing this now when scornful words are spat between the two of you in the living room of ramshackle. clouds and lighting are beginning to gather as a response to his irritation and annoyance. he doesn't even know what this silly argument was even about or why it started in the first place, and unfortunately, malleus can be just as stubborn as can be.

"since you insist on being childish, i think it's best for us to not talk for a while," he isn't even looking at you as he says this, so when he disappears into pretty green firelights, he misses the hurt expression on your face as he leaves.

this is stupid, you think, but you bite your lip in worry as you walk upstairs and lay in bed, grim beside you snoring away. you said things you didn't mean so perhaps it's best to give him space, though how long that will go on is unknown to you since your lovely dragon is a fae with a rather skewed perception of time... whatever, he knows where to find you as soon as he decides he's comfortable enough to talk this out.

unbeknownst to you, malleus is now brooding in his room, lying face down on his pillow. the clouds around nrc have gotten worse, static brushing against the air as he waits for a phone call from you. preferably a sincere apology since he obviously deserves it after the things you've said.

...

well, he supposes it wasn't entirely your fault. he uttered words all to anger you as you did him, though none of them were true. you weren't childish, the opposite in fact-- having to take care of that first-year duo and that cat you're always hanging out with, taking precious time away when you could be stroking his hair and kissing his hands and petting his horns. as you do.

that's another thing he likes about you. even if you don't spend as much time together as he'd like, what you do to him is more than enough to compensate. you know he likes being kissed on the neck, you know he loves it when you take of his gloves and hold his hands, you know he loves when you lightly blow on his ear. you always look so happy when you do it too-- like seeing him smile makes you-

wait, isn't he supposed to be angry at you? he humphs and pouts when he realizes you still haven't called. he turns his head, eyebrows crossed and he stares at the phone on his desk. the only reason he learned how to use a phone was so you could contact him and send him texts and "memes" like you do with the rest of your friends.

he considers going to you himself but immediately shoves the idea away. he's still mad at you after all.

...

...

...

...

the clouds start pouring rain.

it isn't even the raging, storming kind-- the ones with howling winds and thunderous claps of lightning that illuminate the very sky. it's sad and cold that heavily drops on your already straining roof. your dampened mood worsens and you decide to get out of bed and make a hot drink to help you sleep.

you briefly glance at the alarm on your bedside table and see that it's 2:31 a.m., way too early to do anything at all.

just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hear 3 heavy knocks at the front door. any normal person would panic and call a friend for help, but your friends ace are usually the ones getting kicked out, so you figure something similar happened.

imagine your surprise when you see your boyfriend in all his 202 cm glory. his hair sticks to his face in an unfairly handsome way considering he's absolutely soaked, and somehow the look accentuates the pretty green hue of his eyes that have only ever looked at you like you were everything and more, even when he's angry at you.

...did he walk here?

you continue staring at him for a while and your realize that while your lover is incredibly beautiful- so much so the word beautiful could never begin to describe him- he is also very. pathetic. if only people knew how much of a wet cat he was. he even bumps his nose against yours as an act of affection sometimes.

and that fact is ever prominent right now. his arms are crosses and his lips are jutted in a cute pout, refusing to say a word.

"..."

"..."

"..."

you don't know what to do exactly, considering there isn't a manual for 'what to do when your draconic boyfriend stands outside your front door in the soaking rain while he remains completely silent', so you slowly turn and walk through ramshackle's living room and into your dainty little kitchen.

heavy footsteps follow close behind you, followed by a light thud of a closing door and the muffling of the rain. malleus continues to follow you when you boil enough water for two, when you take out your tea bags (gifted by kalim) and seep it into the water. you take the occasional glance here and there, wondering if you should speak before ultimately deciding against it. maybe he doesn't want to talk right now.

he sits closely next to you- so close your knees touch when you rest yourself on one of the seats against the table. your fingertips briefly touch when you pass him the newly brewed tea and it's almost like he wants to reach out to hold your hand, but he pulls away at the last second.

from there, you sit in silence. the heat of the mug spreads from your cold fingertips and you warm up as you drink your tea. already, your becoming tired. you look at mal once more and he still has that adorable pout on his face, but his eyebrows aren't as furrowed as before. usually, you'd gladly offer a cuddle during a rainy night, but tonight's been strange.

so when you try to leave your seat, a hand suddenly stops you. it's the first time he's looked you in the eyes the entire night and good god it's cute, lame and pitiful all at the same time. truly, a stray kitty in a box out in the rain begging for attention. his eyes look up at you in the saddest way possible and you swear you see a wet sheen-- and that damn pout that's going to be the fucking death of you one day is still there.

"i'm sorry," he mutters, and he shifts from one hand holding yours to two. "i can't stand being apart from you." the apology is blunt, honest and sincere, just like him.

you gently lift the hand he wasn't holding to his cheek and he nuzzles into it, closing his eyes as he enjoys your petting. something deep rumbles in his chest and you realize he's purring again.

"m' sorry too, mal. shouldn't have said what i said."

almost immediately, the heavy rain lessens before quickly coming to a stop. there's a smile on his face and the all-too-familiar, tell-tale blush on his cheeks. you place your finger under his chin and tilt his head before kissing him softly. he's dormant and still, like he's afraid of breaking this moment, but he tightens his grip on your hand like he's afraid you'll leave.

malleus chases your lips in hopes for more when you pull away all too soon. he's staring at you with a look as sweet and delicate as spun sugar.

"let's go to bed, mal."

he chuckles like he always does. "if you insist, my love." like he wasn't waiting, hoping you ask him.

[shitsndgiggs]

GREEK GETAWAY - LAMINE YAMAL

Enjoying a day out on the sea with Lamine

Lamine Yamal x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The gentle sway of the boat as it glides over the crystal-clear waters of the Aegean Sea is almost hypnotic.

The sun casts a warm, golden glow over everything, making the blue of the water even more vibrant. Greece is more beautiful than I ever imagined, and being here with Lamine makes it perfect.

"Lamine, look at that!" I point to a small island in the distance, its white buildings and blue domes standing out against the lush green backdrop.

"Es hermoso, amor," he replies, his eyes sparkling as he looks at the island and then back at me.

We decided to take this boat trip to celebrate Spain's victory in the Euros. Lamine played an incredible tournament, and now we have some much-needed time to relax and enjoy each other’s company.

“Do you think we’ll see any dolphins?” I ask, leaning against the railing of the boat, feeling the sea breeze in my hair.

“Maybe, if we’re lucky,” he says, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “But right now, I’m more interested in enjoying this moment with you, mi cielo.”

I turn in his arms and smile up at him. “You’re getting all romantic on me, Lamine.”

He laughs, a sound that’s become my favorite music. “Can’t a guy be romantic for his girlfriend?”

“Fair enough,” I say, reaching up to brush a strand of curly hair from his face. “You looks so handsome,.”

“Gracias, mi amor,” he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead.

After a while, we anchor the boat near a secluded cove. The water here is so clear that I can see the sandy bottom.

We change into our swimsuits, and Lamine helps me down the ladder into the refreshing water.

“This feels incredible,” I say, floating on my back and looking up at the sky.

“Almost as incredible as you,” he teases, splashing water at me.

“Hey!” I laugh, splashing him back. “Watch it, campeón!”

He grins and dives under the water, swimming towards me like a playful dolphin. When he surfaces, he’s right in front of me, his dark eyes shining with mischief.

“You’re so fast,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Years of practice,” he replies, pulling me close. “But you’re pretty fast yourself, sirenita.”

We spend the next hour swimming and playing in the water. It’s like we’re the only two people in the world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Eventually, we climb back onto the boat and lie down on the deck, letting the sun dry our skin.

“Hungry?” he asks, reaching into the cooler we brought.

“Starving,” I admit.

He pulls out a container of fresh fruit and picks up a slice of watermelon. “Open wide, princesa.”

I laugh but do as he says, taking a bite and savoring the sweet, juicy flavor. “Mmm, so good.”

“Eres un travieso,” I say, poking his side.

“Y tú eres mi todo,” he replies, his voice soft and sincere.

We feed each other more fruit, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. It feels so natural, so right, to be here with him like this.

As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the water, I snuggle up to him, feeling his warmth.

“I don’t want this day to end,” I say quietly.

“Neither do I,” he replies, kissing the top of my head. “But we have so many more adventures ahead of us, mi vida. This is just the beginning.”

I look up at him, my heart swelling with love. “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” he says, his eyes filled with the same emotion. “Te amo, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Lamine,” I whisper, knowing that no matter where life takes us, as long as we’re together, it will always be perfect.

[daisynik7]

Author's Note: Attended a wedding yesterday and those always get me weepy. 🥹 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Inside the church, several pews behind the altar, you and Nanami stand beside each other, watching the bride walk down the aisle. A coworker of yours, someone you befriended throughout the years, is getting married today. She glides in her beautiful wedding dress, tears glittering in her eyes as she gazes at her soon-to-be husband just a couple feet ahead of her. Her father kisses her cheek, whispers something sweet into her ear, then leaves the two lovebirds to smile and giggle at each other before the officiant begins. That’s one of the things you like to focus on the most during weddings: the way the couple looks at each other. Seeing how much they absolutely cherish one another.

You’ve been to plenty of weddings now throughout your lifetime. Church, destination, even one at a Vegas chapel. No matter where it is, you always end up crying by the end of it, full of love and hope for the couple. Same as you were the day you and your husband got married all those years ago. 

Before you can search your purse for a tissue, Nanami reaches into his pocket, handing you a clean one. You bite your lip, holding back a smile, taking it to blot the tears collecting in your eyes. Of course he’s prepared, he always is. He knows how mushy you get at these things. Without saying a word, he slides his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him, squeezing the side of your belly twice to get your attention. You peer up to meet his gaze, a reassuring smile on his lips. 

“What?” you mouth. 

He shakes his head, whispering back. “Nothing.” All his attention is on you rather than the couple up in the front.

You nudge him gently in the ribs, grinning. “What?”

He bows slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

You lean against him, always a perfect fit by his side. Joking, you say, “You better not be thinking anything naughty. We’re inside a church.”

He chuckles. “I suppose I’ll have to confess my sins later then.”

You remain like this until the vows, exchanging subtle touches during your favorite parts of it. Eventually, your left hand finds his to hold. He feels for the ring on your finger, the one he placed on you at your own wedding. It’s as if it happened both yesterday and centuries ago. Each passing day is just as exciting as the last, but it seems like you’ve known each other in this life and all the other past lives from before. Nanami squeezes your hip once more. “I’d do it all over again, you know.”

“What?”

“This. With you.”

You beam at him, tears returning to your eyes. “Yeah?”

He smiles back at you, genuine and sincere, like he always is. “In a heartbeat. I’d do it a million times over if it means I get to spend forever with you.”

He always knows exactly what to say to make your heart swell the same way it did the moment you fell in love with him. “Well, lucky for you, one time is enough.”

[nescaveckwriter]

Heyy! Can I request a Dean Winchester x reader with an established relationship where they have to deal with a case for which they have to dress up all nice, and reader usually wear baggy clothes or clothing that hides most of her body and for the first time, he sees reader in a tight fitting dress and he's just

😍 "shit, that's my woman?!"

And he's just over the moon even more for reader (if that's even possible)

😱💓🥰... Awww sweetheart this is such a cute idea, I just simply love it, also thanks for asking, I really do hope you like, this little drabble, I've written is what you had in mind💓 anywayz I hope you have an epic day, love ... 🐞💓🥰

A/N: I love receiving requests, so keep em coming 😅

Warnings: 18+Only, Some mention of violence, and intimacy, but nothing to much, light foul language. And Pure FLUFF 🥳😘💕

Pictures used: Pinterest

Copyright: Please do not copy, my work.

Words: 1189 😘

Lady in Red 💕

His husky voice lingers in the air, oh how I loved the sound of his voice, we have been together for a few years now, and somehow hearing him, looking at him, never got old. His green eyes caught mine, helding it captive, because I mean who wouldn't drown in those emerald green orbs, mouthing with his plum lips across the table, "I love you" as Sam discussed the plan with us. Mouthing back "I love you too Dean". Looking at each other as if we were the only people in the room.

"Really you two?" Sam looked at the two of them, "we need to focus, the two of you need to pose as a high end, couple, for this charity event, so I need both of you too listen" Dean and I looked a little guilty, but then Dean smirked "bite me" I chuckled a little, the way Sam's face has irritation written all over..

Sam looked at me, eyeing the oversized clothing I always wear, oh he didn't want to say it out loud but, I knew what he was thinking, how am I going to look the part?. I barely even wear makeup or do my hair, but like who would not want to be comfortable when you're fighting monsters and ghosts. I smile, "Don't worry boys, I'll dress the part" Dean gave me this surprised almost scolding look sounding sincere, "You are beautiful sweetheart, I don't care what you wear, your beautiful" he walked up to me, and without hesitation he pulled me into an endearing kiss, his hands resting on my hips, I heard Sam, mumbling "Oh! Give me a break" and walk out, leaving the two of us, I could feel the way Dean smiled, against my lips. After a few more seconds, we came up for air, sounding breathy ,"Babe you should stop terrorising your brother so much" he simply smirked "Not my fault Sammy is so easily annoyed" I laugh, starting to turn away from him, "I need to go and get ready for tonight's event, you too mister" he grabbed my wrist, "Come here sweetheart" he pulled me close to him, looking into my eyes, "you know I love you right, more than anything in this world?" I smiled, looking at this gorgeous man in front of me, his freckles, my damn weakness, "Mhmm you see I know that's not true" surprised he looks at me "what?" Chuckling a bit "what about baby?" Referencing the love for his Chevrolet Impala, standing in the garage, he burst into laughter "You are driving me crazy woman, now go get ready" giving me a playful slap on the rear. I walk away, smiling, my heart bursting with love and joy.

He smiles as he watches her walk away, wearing loose fitting jeans one of his t-shirts and some flannel, hair in a messy bun, it's true he didn't care what she wore, she's so beautiful for him, but he would be lying, if he said he wasn't curious what she'll look like all dressed up, for some reason that's beyond him, she always thinks she's not pretty, but oh how far that could be from the truth, he knows every single inch of her body, every little spot that makes her tickle, every Little sensitive part, that makes her moan in pleasure, he loves her, even more than his car, but he'll never admit it.

Checking himself in the mirror, mumbling "I hate these monkey suits" as he struggled with his bow tie. He walks around the bunker searching for Sam, of course he finds his little brother's nose buried in those damn books, "Sammy help a man out?" Sam looks up, "you can hunt some of the most dangerous creatures, but you can't fix a tie?" The glare Dean gives him shows he isn't happy at the remark, he gets up, helping his big brother fix the tie.

Sam's eyes widens, his mouth falls open, Dean looks at him "What's your problem?" Sam could barely utter a single word he was stunned to say the least, Dean followed his eyes and when Dean turned around, his breathing hitched, his heart rate went up, he slightly gasped for air, taking in the beauty before him, his eyes wandered over her. Her hair draped over her shoulders, her eyes glistening, her smile could light up the darkest of rooms, wearing a red tight fitting dress. The high cut slit in her dress, exposing her right leg, the crystal like heels, making her seem taller, her legs leaner, the low halter cut, just exposing enough of her collar bone, to leave something for the imagination.

Without saying a word, Dean gestured for her to turn, the back of the dress, totally exposed, just covered her lower back. He bit his lower lip, and with the back of his hand, hitting against Sam's chest, his voice sounding a bit more husky, "shit, that's my woman?!" She laughed and her voice rang, "Last time I checked, I was all yours"

All the way to the event Dean could barely keep his eyes on the road.

When he led her through the doors, his hand rested on the curve of her back, so many eyes were on her, and he slightly chuckled when she whispered "why are they all looking at me?" As if she doesn't know she's beautiful! So he just smiled, took her hand, and asked "do me the honour and dance with me?" She did a little playful dip, "the honour would be all mine" before he pulled her close, he gave her a once over. He never saw the highlights in your hair, that caught your eyes, or the dress you're wearing tonight, he pulls you close. Dancing cheek to cheek, the way she feels this close to him, her small hands on his shoulders, his calloused hands, in the small of her back, sending electric shocks through her spine, swaying with the music, maybe Dean's caught up in the moment, but there's a question weighing on him for months, but now, now it feels like the right moment, he's voice sounded deeper than normal as he whispered, hot air brushing against her neck "Sweetheart?"

Slightly breathy, "Yes?" He cleared his throat, "make me the happiest man alive, and be my wife?"

Her swaying body came to a stop , "A...are you asking me" he cut her off, pulled back looking in her eyes, "yes, will you marry me?" I couldn't believe it, he just asked me to be forever his, without further due, I planted a kiss on his plum lips, soft tears rolling down my cheeks, he smiled against her soft lips, "is that a yes?" I break the kiss, smiling widely, "yes a million times yes" he laughed, picked her up, gave a twirl, and placed her down, his fingers intertwined with hers. Giving me that signature smirk, "What do you, say Mrs Winchester let's go catch that shifter, then we celebrate with some pie and beer?" I laughed, nodding, as happy as can be, "lead the way Mr Winchester".

@k-slla @jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @angelbabyyy99 @pia-bartolini

[wolfgirl-sister]

I want to go on a date with my sister who I've been raised up besides and secretly had a crush on since I was 12 and she asks me out and I start hyperventilating and she ends up having to take me to urgent care but by the time we get there I'm fine again so instead we pick up Indian and go back to my apartment and we eat butter chicken and garlic naan while watching a solid 6/10 horror movie and I make her laugh and I get to see her smile and even if nothing else happened tonight that alone would be worth it and I'm a little convinced that I've passed out and died and am having a vision of a life that could have been, just like Picard in that one star trek episode, but then I'm reminded why solipsism is immature and I decide that the end result is the same no matter what so I might as well take what's in front of me at face value and she asks me what's on my mind and I can see the shine in her eyes that first stuck in my mind when I was just a little girl who didn't really even know what it meant to love someone but knew more than anything that I sincerely loved her and I see that tomboyish smile and I want to ask her if she ever thought about me as more than a sister and what she had been most scared to ask me and she thinks for a while or at least it looks like she's thinking but she might have been just savoring the moment because she bites her lip a certain way when she's mulling over a problem and her lips that I've been looking at all night and all my life don't twitch so much as spread thin when she presses them tighter, and once she musters enough courage and the rhythm of the night feels right she replies that she's always wanted to know if it was okay to have a crush on your sister because it has to be because you can't have kids like that but I tell her that line of thinking is eugenics and she kind of looks at me funny before she laughs and says that she understands, because she always hears what I mean and what I feel, even when I can't get anyone else to understand and even when no one else would think to listen to me, she and I stay up at night arguing over inane bullshit that will never end because we love the argument as much as one another and she trails off and asks what's on my mind, and that's why she's laughing, because she knows that I've been thinking and that my answer was that it's okay now because it's always okay because we love each other in a way that no one can deny and no one should step between and when I kiss her I can taste the syrup from her cherry coke and the coconut chapstick that she's worn since she was 16 and she first kissed a girl and I got mad at her because how could she be gay and I know now that I was upset that she'd kissed a girl who's not me and ever since then her lips have smelled like coconut, but I've never tasted it before because I've never been brave enough to ask to borrow it and what fills my mind and body now is a connection that stretches between two souls to bridge them as one because we feel as one having connected to one another on a level that two humans aren't meant to and we don't really care what humans are meant to do because we've never taken stock in gods or purposes but I have to admit that the softness of her tongue makes me want to pray

[idreamofticklehugs]

You’re ok, I’ve got you

“Come here.”

  They say as soon as you walk in the door. You raise your head and see them already walking towards you, arms open, ready to protect you from the rest of the world. You’d had a horrible day. You love your job, but sometimes, you really just hate people. Why are they so mean and rude? Two minutes after you clocked out, they had texted you to ask how your day was. You send a quick reply saying how awful people are and how you’re ready for today to be over. You lift your arms as they pull you into a tight embrace. You melt into them and wrap your arms around their shoulders. They hold you close, one hand pressing against your back, the other stroking the back of your head. Your eyes close and you rest your head on their shoulder, breathing in their scent and letting them comfort you. After a moment, they pull back just a little, and brush the back of their hand against your cheek. 

 “How can I help you? Would you like to talk about it or block out work for the rest of the night?” 

You put your head back on their shoulder and they place both hands against the small of your back, holding you, but more gently than before, making you feel cherished as you decide what you want. You didn’t want to talk about it. Honestly, nothing particularly bad had happened, it was just lots of little things that were rude or cruel building up. You just wanted to forget the day ever happened. 

“I really just want to not think about it anymore.” 

“Would some gentle distraction help?” They said very softly.

The way your heart expands at the sincere question doesn’t stop your face from turning pink. How you loved this person. How they loved you! They knew what tickling meant to you. They hadn’t even said that word, because they weren’t trying to tease yet;  they truly wanted to know if you wanted it and if it would help. You bite your lip against the flustered smile and nod your head slightly, tightly linking your hands together behind their neck. They chuckle softly, feeling your body tense in anticipation.

“You’re ok. I’ve got you.”  They say against your ear and press a kiss to your temple. “Can you smile for me, please?” 

The gentlest of spidering begins down your spine and you let out a small whine of surprise. They begin to curl their fingers ever so lightly against the back of your sides. You twitch and try not to giggle. 

“Please don’t fight it tonight. I want you to just enjoy it. Just laugh for me. It’s ok. You’re safe here. I won’t let you go.” 

Ten wiggling fingers dance up to your ribs, softly feeling out each one, immediately causing your giggles to pour out. You squirm in their arms and tighten your grip as your body starts to tell you to protect yourself. You fight the urge, loving both the tickles and the care behind them. Their hands skitter all over your sides and ribs, the pressure never getting too rough; just soft tickles to chase away all the bad moments of the day. You bury your face in their neck and just let yourself laugh as they cuddle back and whisper encouraging teases into your ear. They shift you slightly and one hand can now reach more of your tummy. You squeak softly and your laugh deepens. Their grip on you tightens as the feel your resistance to the ticklish feelings weaken. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. I’m not letting you go. You’re safe in my arms.” 

Your hands come undone but you grab onto their shoulders, loving this too much to stop it. Today was a rough day, but as you stand in their arms, you release all the stress and worry and give in to the tickling. You let them show you that they love you.

[gilthoniel94]

Hot Stuff (I'm Not Talking About Tea).

They have been careful. It all started with stolen glances and now they are stealing kisses here and there, when they make sure no one is around. Not because they don't want anyone to know. They could shout from the highest mountain their feelings for each other, but they decided to keep it for themselves for a while, let it be just their little secret. They are good at hiding and pretending, they are just close friends enjoying their time together and working to make a better world.

His office has become their favorite place to hide. People think that they are discussing politics and restoration plans for all the nations. Surely they do that too, but when the ambience gets too electrifying and charged with emotions, they have to act on it. And that's what just happened on this beautiful Spring morning. The birds were singing a beautiful melody and the cherry blossom trees had started to bloom, just like their romance. They were just talking about the need for more public hospitals and then, she was sitting on his lap with both her hands on the slope of his neck. His hands were one on her hip and the other one on her waist, grasping firmly, like never wanting to let go. Mouths clashing, tongues dancing, teeth biting soft wet lips. They got lost in space and time, the world around them was just a blur.

They just stopped for a moment to take some air, panting and breathing heavily. They looked into each other's eyes, so many emotions that not even the most talented poet could put into words. After a while, Zuko spoke.

"I want to recite you a poem I read yesterday and it made me think of you. Actually, I'm all the time thinking about you even when I think I'm not thinking at all. All my thoughts fly to you."

She stared at him with the brightest and deepest blue eyes and the softest kindest of smiles. Shit, he was doomed and deeply in loooo... No he doesn't want to think of that word yet. He doesn't want to scare her away. It has been just two weeks since their confession and agreement to start slowly and take time for things to develop smoothly. Love was a heavy word, at least right now. But he couldn't find another word to describe the turmoil inside his heart. Devotion? It was beyond that. Want? Sure, but that word seemed so superficial right now. Longing? What he has been feeling for the last 7 years. But it was way more than that.

Her voice took him out of his thoughts.

"Then I shall listen to it, Fire Lord." She leaned and kissed him softly on his scar. Damn, damn, damn. She is making things more difficult.

"Ok but don't laugh. You know I'm not good with words at all."

She laughed, and something mischievous glinted behind her eyes.

"Sure you are. Remember how you confessed? I think you have the smoothness of a tigerdillo."

"Come on, stop mocking me. I was a nervous wreck. I thought I was going to vomit and then pass out in front of you."

"Yeah, I thought that too. You were pale as a ghost. All the color came back to your face when I said that I felt the same way about you. But it wasn't any different for me, you know. I was trembling and shaking. That's why I was holding my hands so tightly. I didn't want you to notice and make you more nervous."

"But in the end, it all turned out well. Right?" He smiled and she thought that his eyes were like two little suns warming her soul. And his smile, so rare to see but she knew that it came with all the sincerity he had. He doesn't smile for everyone. He just does that for her, for Iroh, his mom, his sisters and their friends. But the smiles that were meant just for her were something unique.

"Absolutely. I wouldn't change a thing. It was perfect and it is perfect right now. I am just sad that we won't be able to be on a proper date for a while. But it's for the best. The world will go crazy once everyone finds out that the Water Tribe Ambassador and the Fire Lord became more than allies, and I'm not ready for that just yet. I want to enjoy all of this and keep it just for us for a moment."

"Don't worry, I feel the same. Even though I want to tell everyone, at the same time I want this little peace we have right now."

"I agree. So, the poem?"

"Right, the poem. Firstly, I want to make a promise here and now. I will read you a poem every day of our time together. For as long as you have me, you will have to endure the pain of listening to me reciting poetry. That's what you get for being so beautiful, smart, courageous, brave and for not leaving my thoughts all day."

She laughed a little too loud and then clapped her hand over her mouth. It was music for his ears, but they had to be quiet to avoid gossiping ears.

"Sorry, you just say the dumbest things sometimes. So wise and yet so dummy, Fire Lord."

"Hey, I never said I am wise. Okay here I go. I don't know if I will be able to hold your gaze so I think I'll close my eyes and just do it. I promise that with time, I will look you in the eye while I recite. I just need to get a hold of my nerves."

"It's ok. Don't worry about that. We have all the time in the world to get to that. I will also close my eyes to make you feel comfortable and focus on your voice and not your lips."

"Really smooth. I could learn from you, master Katara. How many men have been eating from your hand?"

"You should. And so many I can't count but only you have my heart" she said and then closed her eyes. "Ok, I'm ready."

He also closed his eyes, took a deep breath and started reciting, slowly not wanting to mess any single word:

"You are a promise

You are a song

Smooth like a waterfall

A sea in the calm.

You are the summer

You are the sun

You are the desert plain

Where the wild horses run.

Deep as a valley

Sweet as a stream

Dark as a storm cloud

And bright as a dream

You are what I long for

You are what I need

When it's You and I

Then my heart can sing

When it's You and I

Then my soul is free.

You are all my life

You are all my strength

You are all my hope

You are everything"

He starts to slowly open his eyes and is received by hers, all round and open and shining with unshed happy tears. She doesn't say a word, her tongue is tied. She just acts on impulse. Suddenly she decides that sitting on his lap is not enough and positions to straddle him, so that he can put his hands on her hips. And then she kisses him fiercely, with the strength of a tsunami, powerful waves of emotions crashing and destroying every single doubt and fear that were left in their hearts.

This is the most passionate kiss they have shared since it all started. She can't keep her hands still. For a moment, they are holding his handsome face, then they get at the back of his head to finally start grasping firmly his soft and long hair. She can't get enough of him. She wanted to get lost in him, forever. In his eyes, in his lips, in his scent, his skin. Just let him melt her and warm her for the rest of their lives. She loved him, she was sure. She had loved him for years. She had dreamt of this for a while and now, it became reality. The grasp on her hips and the way he caressed her back grounded her and helped her realize it all was real and not just a dream again.

And then, the door started to open, and panic took over them. They were sure they had locked it but it seems that they were so eager to be alone that they let go of this tiny yet important detail. With all the ability that her body could gather after what happened moments ago between them, she made her way to her chair and grabbed the book that she has been pretending to read all the times when someone knocked on the door, opening it on whatever page and reading whatever was written, covering her face to hide her burning cheeks. Zuko, on the other side, composed himself quickly and grabbed his pen and started passing pages and pages of documents, as if looking for something in particular.

She took a glance just above the book to see who had interrupted the most amazing kiss she ever had. Of course, it was Iroh. Smiling brightly and openly, carrying a tray with a steaming kettle and two delicate cups.

"Good morning, nephew. I brought you tea to calm your racing mind. I know you have been working a lot lately. Oh, miss Katara! Good morning to you too", he said like he hadn't noticed her before. Then he served the tea he brought and passed their cups. "Your beauty blesses my tired old eyes on this warm Spring morning. So good I brought two cups. One was meant for me but I gladly give it to you now. I thought that being this early, my nephew would be all alone here and I came to pay him company."

"Good morning, Iroh. Yes, we decided to start our duties a little earlier today. And thank you for your compliment. You know, Fire Lord Zuko could learn more of your way with words. By now he could be married to a nice lady." She let go of her book and took the cup Iroh offered and sipped from it, enjoying the honeyish taste and sighed in satisfaction. "Delicious tea, as always."

Zuko grunted and took his eyes off of the documents that he was (pretending) reading, an accusatory look shot at her and she responded with an apologetic gaze, like saying: "sorry, I have to play my part".

Iroh laughed wholeheartedly. "Oh dear. I know, I know. I have even tried to make him read poetry too. I am also sure that by now, if he listened to me, he would be married to a beautiful lady and start giving me and Ursa lots of grandchildren."

"Yeah, I'm sure of that." Zuko said harshly, while taking a sip of tea. "Uncle, thanks for the tea but if you don't mind we have so much work to do. We want to finish it so we can see you later and have breakfast with my mom and my sisters."

"Of course, nephew. I am sorry, I won't be delaying you any longer. And Zuko, be careful with the hot stuff. Your lips are all red and swollen. And I'm not talking about tea." With that he winked at them and left the office as fast as a bolt.

And they were left there, at a loss for words. It seems they weren't so careful in the end.

NOTE 1: So I have been a sailor on this ship for how long? 19 years or so but haven't written anything even tho I had so many ideas running through my head.

I don't know why, at 30 years old, married and with a 18 month old baby boy I decided to act on it. I think it will be my only fanfic cause I honestly don't have all the time and energy in the world right now (motherhood and house stuff is so tiring), but I don't want to regret not writing at least this little thing for these two idiots I love. I hope you enjoy this piece of my mind. Thank you for your time and I want to apologize in advance if my writing is not so good. English is not my first language so I'm sure there will be mistakes.

NOTE 2: The poem Zuko recites is composed by two songs: "You" and "You and I", both by Future of Forestry. I do not own any of them.

[mamichigo]

Kaveh, upon being told that Alhaitham and Cyno were now a couple, laughed in their faces while praising Cyno for improving his comedy skills. Later, he drank a whole bottle of wine and cried that "Alhaitham was always bullying him for no reason."

Dehya's reaction was much less dramatic, but considerably more insulting. She looked between the two of them, raised an eyebrow and stared at Alhaitham.

"He can do much better than you."

(It was pretty clear who she meant.)

For a moment, it felt as if Candace believed them. She clapped them on the back and smiled sweetly; her happiness was palpable, as well as sincere.

"I'm glad you two get along well enough that you can joke around like this now! You've come a long way," she said.

Somehow, neither of them had the heart to correct her.

Tighnari, to his credit, listened to them for a whole five minutes. He even looked like he was trying his hardest to comprehend his friend's words. When they all went quiet, he looked to the side, eyelid twitching. He seemed to be recalling a past episode with some degree of annoyance.

Finally, he said, "I don't know who put you up to this, but it's not like either of you. We'll discuss this later." And promptly left to tend to his work.

Collei, on the other hand...

"I don't think this is working," Alhaitham finally admitted defeat one evening.

Cyno, comfortably sitting on his lap and tucked under Alhaitham's chin, hummed his agreement.

"Should I kiss you in front of everyone? That might convince them," Alhaitham suggested.

"No, it would backfire."

"How come?"

"It's not like either of us to do something like that in public, and I'm sure it'll somehow come back to bite you in particular." Cyno tipped his head back to look at Alhaitham. "Probably think you're harassing me."

"Hm. Fair point."

He dipped down to deposit a kiss to Cyno's cheek, then his nose, and finally his mouth. He lingered there sweetly, until a sudden crash behind them forced them away from each other.

"AH--!"

They caught the tail end of incoherent apologies, as well as a glimpse of green hair running out of the room.

...Collei walked in on them kissing.

"Well, that solves that problem," Cyno mumbled.

[magnoliabutters]

• STAY A WHILE •

pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader

summary: an unexpected guest tends to put a kink into things…

warning: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; canon divergence, enemies to lovers trope, season 4 spoilers; first half is straight up porn, previous series parts mentioned, internal dialogue, hardcore vamp shower sex, blood, gore, y/n count: 2, fluffy fluff, trauma responses & bonding, physical fighting, (unprotected) p in v, grief, violence, etc.

word count: ~8.6k

reblogs & thoughtsies are so appreciated pweaze 👹

• stories of eddie munson • season two • previous part •

note: this is for you, anonymous ♥️✨some influence from true blood & other vamp media, i ain’t gonna lie! also here are some smut resources I used to up my game; instead of & this spencer reid edit (so fahking hot).

thank you to @nackrosor for taking the time to beta read this part! you and your thoughts are so so appreciated and you truly helped make this part 10x better. ii think we make a great duo and i am very thankful. my loves, please check her out - her stories and, particularly, her smut is to die for...

Ten minutes. Ten minutes have passed. Ten minutes have passed and the water remains heated. You find it baffling. A shower surprisingly still warm to the touch. It feels good, better than you had imagined. Just like how his arms are still wrapped so tightly around you. Tightening with every second that passes. It feels good, better than you had imagined.

Ten minutes have passed and his arms are still hot to the touch. He hasn’t moved his forehead from your shoulder. His breath still a light breeze against your back. Your cheek rests upon his temple, digging deeper into the comforting embrace. His hair smells of honey. It’s soft, softer than you remember.

“Kas,” you coo. Kas’ head immediately perks up, but his arms continue to grip around you. “Why does your hair smell like honey?” you ask with all sincerity. He smiles as he returns to his rest. You can hear the soft laughter before a slow inhale. “You know, I’m not really sure.” He finds the topic random, but enjoyable. He wouldn't expect anything different from you. He would do anything, any thing to help you feel better.

You look over your shoulder, pinning your chin against your muscle. He pulls away naturally. Your eyes rake over that gentle face, pausing at each feature - taking him in. “Did you find a conditioner out there or something?” you ask but a laugh interrupts you. An unspoken understanding of how odd the conversation topic is and yet, it’s better than talking about your new-found reality.

Kas huffs, truly thinking about the concept. “No,” he shakes his head. “I was more focused on food than my hair to be honest.” You gasp, making him jump. He chuckles at his startled reaction. “How could anything come before your hair?” you inquire. His smile matches yours as he places a kiss upon your shoulder blade. Your eyes close as his lips press gently onto your skin. You soak in the sensation as though it may be your last.

“Okay, maybe I found some gel somewhere,” he admits with a tilt of his head. His front teeth biting into his lower lip. You turn your head back to the faucets, leaning further back into his chest. “For the bandana, right?” you mutter. “Yeah, for the bandana.” He adjusts his hands, but pulls you in closer as you rest between his legs. The water now rushes against your stomach.

Kas tucks his chin into the nape of your neck. He places a peck on your skin before nuzzling in some more. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks hesitantly. You let the words float, contemplating a response. You note how your chest feels more open, that you can actually breathe. Your head feels centered and balanced, no longer light.

You could talk about it, if you wanted to. And yet, “Talk about what?” He lets out a breathy laugh as he hugs you tighter. Each squeeze gives you an ounce of your life back, an ounce of control. “Nothing, darlin’,” he says with another light kiss. You center your breathing, taking a deep exhale as you lean further into his embrace.

You stop - you feel something. It's not physical. It's not sweet. Your eyes closed and your heart opened, enough where you were startled awake again. You find comfort in him, in his hold. This time, fully aware, that these arms are not Eddie's. This chest is not his, nor these kisses. What you are loving, appreciating in this moment - these are Kas' actions. Kas is opening your heart...

“Should we-we should probably stand,” you suggest. Your hands reach the lipping of the tub. You push up as his arms fall to his side without retaliation. Kas follows behind with eyes to the shower’s floor. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he mumbles as he steps out. His soaked black jeans limit his movements almost comically.

You reach for his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it. The action not tethered to your conscious, but here you are having to explain it. His eyes land on your grip and then trace up your arm and to your face. “You can stay,” you whisper. His eyes slightly light up as he takes in a breath. “I-I need help getting my back,” you quickly lie. A smile pulls to his right side as he nods. “Of course.”

Kas leans onto his other leg, still being drenched by the water, but you quickly stop him. “Those must hurt. You should take them off,” you suggest. Your eyes lift to his. Innocence fills them, and that same innocence he sees. He likes this side of you. He nods before taking off his jeans and boxers. You could see where the denim had irritated his iridescent skin. With a deep breath, you quickly raise your eyes. "A-and your bandana too."

Something changed between you both. Why fight it?

Kas stands before you, completely bare as you are for him. Your eyes travel from his lips, to the nervous swallow of his adam’s apple, to his collar bone. Your body craves his skin, craves a bite and a kiss against those bones. You revel over Eddie’s tattoos. The spider that you aimed for any time you fell asleep on his chest. The light brown happy trail that leads to his finely groomed bush. Your heart races at the sight of his cock. You try not to let your emotions show, but you take in a sharp breath through your nostrils.

You missed his body. You have missed it every second since that night.

As you finally make your way back up to his eyes, you realize he has been watching you the entire time. A smile thick upon his face. Despite your blush, you grab hold of the soap and lather your hands. "You coming?" He softly chuckles as he takes a step into the tub. He faces you, awaiting your love. “Turn,” you instruct while guiding his body to turn around. You were not yet ready for any head on act.

Kas watches you through the corner of his eye while you massage his back. You recognize the little beauty marks you like to trace here and there. There was always one to mirror the other. A pair of beauty marks on his left shoulder blade. One at his mid-back, a mark on either side of his spine. But your hands stop at the rough surface of his lower back. The scars you do not remember. The scars that are not his. They are Kas’ scars.

Despite its healing, the wound remains pink with ripples of dark red. It rips around his waist and to his stomach. You have seen it, this huge break in his skin, but you haven’t been able to study it. To really see the pain that caused and followed the injury. You are careful to touch it, careful not to hurt him. He has been through so much.

You lower your hands onto his butt cheeks without hesitation. Kas lets out a sheepish giggle as he steps forward, as though he didn’t expect it. His reaction catches you off guard, leaving you with confusion and a chuckle. “You ticklish?” you ask as you grip against his cheeks again. He yelps as he presses his palms upon the tiled wall. You laugh alongside him. Did you find his weakness? His ass? “I just didn’t see that coming,” he murmurs out of breath. “I’ll move on I guess,” you lead as you tauntingly giggle. You crouch as your hands fall to his thighs and down to his calves. He drops a harsh breath as his finger taps against his outer thigh.

As you raise, your hand trails up his soft body. Your fingers light upon his skin as you trace them up to the crook of his neck. You step aside to allow the hot water to splash against his pinking back. Your hand still travels his body, slowly making its way to his devilish jawline. A fingertip lands at his chin, guiding his face back towards you. The smile has now disappeared. He peers down at you with a flat lip. His eyes scream for your attention, but you are stuck glaring down on his cock standing straight as ever. “So predictable,” you murmur as you step forward. His dick now resting at your hip as your finger brushes a curled lock behind his ear.

Your eyes return to his, expecting his sex gaze that usually ends with a leaned in kiss, but you are left surprised. His brows are perplexed as he places space between you two. No sex in his eyes. He looks at you as though he was finally able to see you, to examine you just as you had with him. His finger brushes against your right ribs which rips a wince from your lips. You turn down to see a purple, yellow bruise beneath your breast thickly spread across your side. His eyes turn to the side of your face.

His finger guides your chin to the right as he observes the harsh red line wrapping your neck. It is almost as though his attention pulled your own. The unfortunate act that now has you feeling every ounce of pain within your body. With a shift of your weight, you can feel all your joints screaming and on fire.

“I’m sorry he hurt you,” Kas mutters as he reaches for the soap. He rubs it across your chest, desperate not to make eye contact with you. His eyes are down like those of a child who’s done wrong. He lathers the soap across your skin gently. He pays special attention to the beaten parts of you. However, you could barely notice his level of care. Your gaze had deadened, blurred to all hell, once reminded of your injuries. Somehow, you find comfort in knowing that your pain matches his. That you two are tethered together. Your bodies telling the story of your combined tragedy.

He breaks your train of thought with five simple words. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says flatly. His touch still delicate on your body. This time you purposefully seek out his eyes, ducking down to find them. Once met and he could not longer hide, you can see the tears welling within them. You can stare into his brown, red flaked eyes without worry. Your hand instinctually floats to his cheek. Your thumb caresses him and he leans deeper into your palm. The silence feels comfortable, natural, enjoyable between you two, as though you have done this for years.

You lean into him with eyes closed. He watches you like a deer in headlights. Your lips lightly land upon his, a soft kiss that causes electricity to fire throughout both your bodies. The sweetness distinct as you open your mouth and take his tongue in. Its strong force thick upon yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and closer into you. He crashes even harder against you. His hands gripping onto your hips before wrapping around your mid back.

Kas pins you on the cool tiled wall. Your fingers dig into his back. He quickly tucks his hand beneath your thigh, hiking your foot up and onto the tub’s ledge. His moans reverberate upon your lips and you pull him deeper and deeper. Your fingernails digging into his skin. Both of your breaths hot, fast, and harsh.

“Kas,” you whimper as his kisses travel down your chin and onto your neck. Your hips rut against his throbbing cock. He moans above your skin as he grinds opposing your force. The water rushes between you two with such pleasure. Your hand reaches for him, tightening your fingers around his girth. A thumb brushing across the threshold of his tip. You bite into his bottom lip as he breathes heavily against you. He pulls back into a smile, ripping away and leaving blood in both your mouths.

You rush your movements, taking the sight of him in. Those furrowing brows. Those fluttering eyelids. That hanging mouth and rising chin as he feels every bit of bliss from your touch. You swear this breathing halts. He struggles to speak, inevitably licking his lips and forgetting his words. God, how you enjoyed turning this strong man into a puddle! His forehead presses against yours.

Kas' forehead presses against yours lazily. “Fuck, y/n,” he exasperates. You hastily pull away, almost throwing yourself against the wall. He stares back at you with widening eyes. His hands falling from your body just to raise slowly, in case he did something he shouldn't have. But he didn't do anything, it's the name. Your name that has suddenly become unfamiliar. A name to reference a life lived and a life lost. The name of a girl who only knew innocence and barely met love. A girl who died when her soulmate passed away saving the town and avenging the death of a friend.

A girl who no longer exists.

“Just-,” you start, unclear of where the sentence may end. “D-don’t call me that. Not anymore.” His head tilts as he attempts to place a comforting hand at your side, but you push his arm aside, refusing his coddling. His eyes fall again, taking a deep swallow as they do. “What should I call you?” he asks in a whisper.

Your brows pull, tight and furrowed. The question is perplexing. You have just realized that you no longer identify with yourself and now, what? You have to come up with a name? You shake your head, hoping to erase the memories like an etch-n-sketch. “Just keep calling me ‘darlin,’” you whisper. "You're good at that."

Kas hesitantly raises his hand to your cheek. At first, you dodge him with a quivering lip, but he decides to press forward, landing his palm upon your cheek. “Yes, darlin’,” he murmurs as he meets your gaze. He understood what was happening without another word needing to be said. You nod along exhaustingly. Your hand meeting his hip and trailing up towards his neck.

You pull him roughly against your mouth, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. His tongue adamantly slides past your lips as your nails dig into him once again. His hand presses against your hip, pushing you harshly against the wall. You could feel his body tensing atop you. You cannot think of a better place to be.

Both bodies move with grace. Kas lifts you with strong hands at your ass while your leg curls behind his. His cock at your entrance as he slowly lowers your waist onto him. His breath on your face as you mewl from the euphoric sensation. He thrusts firmly, causing gasps to drop from your lips. His girth reaches all your crooks and crannies. He fills you up and you are dying for more.

Your back slides up and down against the wall. Your wet hair snarls together. He buries himself in you. Deep, dark thrusts that make you want to scream with pleasure. He heaves against you, struggling to sustain the kisses on your neck as your tightening walls pull his attention. His hot breath upon your skin leaves you aching, aching for something more. Something you don’t yet know.

“God, fuck,” Kas grumbles against you. His ruts become harder and harder. "You feel so g-good." Your nails dig deeper, ripping up his back without care. Eyes beginning to roll as he quickens. Moans fall from your lips as you press the crown of your head upon the wall. Your neck extends as you do.

A seething breath rips from Kas, halting his movement. He still holds you close against him, tightly wound as he’s stiff within you. “I-I,” he whispers as he pulls from your neck. His eyes turn up to the ceiling as he lets out a shaking exhale. You study him. How his mouth hangs open. How his body stills, tenses, and pulls away.

“No,” you plead as you bring him closer. He keeps his head away, trying so hard to keep his eyes up despite your strong pull. You loosen your grip at his efforts. “Help me understand,” you whisper. “I just need a second,” he answers quickly, finally closing his eyes. He takes another chilling and shaken breath. “It’s hard not to,” he mumbles. “Not to what?” Your eyes seek for the answer.

Kas slowly opens his eyes and leads his gaze towards your neck. He takes a deep breath before shutting his eyes and kissing the exposed, sensitive skin. You understood as soon as you felt his touch. He wants it. He wants you, but not in a way that anyone has wanted you before. “Do it,” you whisper, tilting your head to the right. Not a second thought runs through your mind. He raises from your neck, proud of himself before reacting to your words with worry.

“Come on,” you urge softly. He shakes his head with a stiff lip. Why is he making this harder on you? On him? With a huff, you pull him closer once more. Your hips simultaneously grinding upon him. The friction explodes between you two. You both moan into each other's mouths, dying from absolute pleasure. His eyes shutting tight before roughly opening back to yours. "Tell me what you want," he says sternly. "I want a reason to give it to you so badly."

A gasp escapes you in response to his abrupt demand. It forces you to finally acknowledge the burning desire to be consumed by him in a way that truthfully scares you to your core. “Bite me, Kas.” He stares into you, almost into your soul, to determine whether or not you are serious. And without a second passing, he pulls your hips harshly upon himself. He sends rough and quick thrusts, burying himself within, that roll your eyes to the back of your head.

As soon as your eyelids close, Kas sinks his sharpened teeth into your neck. You let out a gasp filled moan. The pain excruciating but it quickly subsides. You can feel the dense, warm liquid trailing down your chest. He rams harder and harder with each bite. His mouth and tongue delightful against your sensitive skin.

You could not imagine his touch feeling any better and yet the added light headed sensation pushes you closer and closer to exploding and reaching the high you desperately crave. “Oh god,” you choke out as your fingers rake through his hair. Your bodies bounce off of one another. A devilish and wet smacking echoing within the room. The now cold water feeling refreshing.

He pulls up for air, inhaling deeply, as he lays his love drunk eyes upon you. Blood drips from the sides of his mouth and the tip of his nose. It's crimson flows in tandem with the water and spirals its way down the drain. Naturally, you attempt to turn around, trying to offer what you consider is the best of yourself. “No.” He stops you with gentle hands at your waist. “I want to see you. All of you.”

Innocently, Kas brings a thumb to his fang, pricking it ever so lightly. He offers it to you while sustaining slow, powerful ruts that make your knees buckle. You open your mouth without delay. He places the finger at the curl of your tongue. You wrap your lips around him as you suck in his intoxicating blood.

With a hiss, he murmurs, “Take it like a good girl.” He slams his hips against you, and you swear you will have more bruises by the end of this shower. The euphoric feeling drops your head in the clouds, desperate for its never ending status but sadly, your body can only take so much. “Fuck,” you purr. “I’m gonna…”

“Wait, darlin’,” Kas hushes. “Almost - I’m almost…” Thrust. Thrust. Thrust and …. You feel his body tense against you. Incoherent words mumbling out as he curls into you, his head on your neck yet again, but “darlin’” comes out clear as day. You love the idea of his seed within you. The pulsing feeling pushes you to reach your high right alongside him, dissolving into pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body, making you weak as you cling onto him with sinful screams.

Pornographic sounds leave both your lips as you collapse into each other. Both bodies slide down until they fall onto the tub floor. They land where they began, holding each other underneath the streaming water. Heaving breaths escape you both as you lean onto one another for support.

Five minutes. Five minutes have passed. Five minutes have passed and you rest against his chest, lying between his thighs as the water crashes upon you both. At one point, he had placed his still bleeding thumb against your bite marks. They have since healed. The water washing away the evidence. It washes away the transgression.

“Darlin’,” Kas whispers just before kissing your forehead. “I know, we should probably get up,” you mutter. You rest your weight on your hand as you raise from his hold. He watches you with adoration in his eyes. If his pupils could switch shapes, they would be pure hearts. You would be lying if you didn’t think the same of yourself. Something changed here in this shower. What if things go back to normal once you leave?

Kas stands beside you. He places gentle hands at your hips, guiding you up and ensuring you’ve gained your balance. He steps out of the shower, breaking the seal before you could stop him. You watch him with eyes of wonder, waiting for him to revert to the asshole he was.

But he extends his hand to you. You take it curiously. He grabs hold of a hanging towel and wraps it around your shivering body. He rubs his hands up your back, trying to keep you warm. “Thank you,” you say. He smiles as he reaches for the other towel. He wraps it around his waist and quickly returns his hands to your back, rubbing as he does.

“I’m feeling like a nap,” Kas grumbles as he guides you out of the bathroom. You hum in excitement at the idea of sleep. You forgot how much you needed it. The reminder hits you like an 18 wheeler.

Entering the bedroom, you’re reminded of the disastrous sight before you. “I don’t think I can sleep in Reefer Rick’s sheets,” you shudder at the thought. “Hold on,” he says as he determinedly walks to the bed. He rips off the cheetah print and the stained checkered duvet. He drops them onto the ground and begins to dig into the dressers.

“Ahah,” he exclaims as he shakes a roll of burgundy sheets your way. “You get that end?” you suggest with a laugh. He nods and shakes out the fitted sheet. You grab hold of your side, tucking it under the corners of the mattress.

Kas lands atop of the bed in celebration of clean sheets, but immediately begins to roll like a wave. “What the hell?” he mumbles with his arms spread out. You laugh as you land a hand against the bed. “It’s a water bed, Kas,” you giggle. “The fuck?” he asks, struggling to sit up like a cat stuck in water.

You lay down, grabbing the pillows and stripping their sheets. “Can you grab me the pillow covers?” you ask as you point towards the dresser. He nods as he fumbles out of the bed. You burst into laughter watching him drop onto the floor. “I’m good!” He reaches into the drawer and throws the cases your way.

As you switch them out, you peer outside the sliding door to the patio. The purpled, deep mist still thick on the water. “Do you think that fog will ever let up?” you ask as you pat his pillow down. “Let me see,” he says as he struggles to open the door. It clearly hasn’t been used in some time.

Kas walks out, carefully stepping upon the rotten wood. He takes in a deep breath as he looks out into the fog. You stifle your giggle, trying to understand what he was doing. He turns around with absolute confidence, nodding his head hastily. He closes the door and dives back onto the water bed.

You smirk, working on your own pillow case. “Well?” you ask with a chuckle. He peers up at you, his neck all twisted, as he rests on the mattress. “Darlin’, I have no idea.” You laugh alongside him. He reaches for you, guiding you beside him as he rests his head upon your chest. Your fingers naturally run through his hair, tracing little circles on his temple.

“You know, I might just be alright dying here with you in Reefer Rick’s bedroom,” Kas murmurs as he digs deeper into your embrace. “You know, I might not be cool with you dying,” you say with a bit of awe. He smiles, but remains curled against your breast. “I actually want you to stay for a while,” you mutter under your breath. Embarrassment fills your cheeks with hot red. His hand tucks underneath your hip, pulling you closer. “Always,” he replies.

You fall asleep, tight within his arms. His light snoring is music to your ears. His warmth and weight on your chest is the best weighted blanket you could ask for. Sleep with Kas is easy. You feel safe with him by your side.

A series of crescendoing knocks echoes from downstairs.

You jump at the sound, instantly putting Kas in defensive mode. Both of you startled from your 45-minute sleep. "Did someone see us?" you ask with panic in your voice. The words come out automatically. His eyes squint with furrowing brows. He slowly shakes his head as he pushes up from the mattress. "I don't think so," he whispers as he makes his way to the dresser one again. His hands plunge into the drawer until they find a pair of black cotton shorts, something Eddie would never wear. He slugs them on before walking out the door with determination.

You rest hiding in your sheets, wondering if you should stand. A few silent seconds pass and you roll yourself off the water bed. You look into the still opened drawer. You can see where his hand brushed through all the rolled clothing, unfolding it. A large graphic tee decorated by MTV's logo catches your eye. It flows over your head and shoulders without difficulty. You have grown quite fond of oversized shirts in the last few weeks.

As you raise a pair of jeans atop your hips to see if they would fit, you hear a loud bang downstairs. Your heart drops as your palms grow sweaty. You were halfway down the staircase before you realized you were running. The noises never stopped. It sounded muffled, like items being tossed to the ground. You didn't start rushing until you heard glass crash.

The sight before you left your body frozen. Kas had someone pinned against the wall. His palms pressed heavily against the intruder's inner wrists. Glass shards are trickled throughout the carpet. The living room was quite the mess before, the only difference being the now escalating altercation in its midst.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Kas yells. He raises the intruder's arm just to slam it back against the wall. You could barely see the person beneath him, but you try your best to grab a glimpse. "I-I-I," you hear stuttering falling from the smaller individual. Your hands' grip tightens against the banister.

Kas growls aloud as he pulls against the person's arm and drops them onto the floor behind him. He slowly turns around with a stone cold face you only recognize from the night prior. His eyes red, red once again, as he yells down at the intruder. "Tell me!" He gradually lands onto a knee beside the person's waist. His tightening knuckles gripping harshly at his collar.

Your eyes drop to the, now identifiable, boy as Kas straddles him. The curly brunette hair almost matched Kas', just a shade lighter. He is smaller, much smaller in stature and overall size. He cries, begging for him to stop. You hate yourself for not rushing to his aid but you are glued to the steps. Your body does not even give you the option.

As his head fell back onto the burnt orange carpet, the boy's baseball cap drops on the floor. You find yourself entranced by it, by its color. Kas lands a hard punch against his cheek when you finally make your way onto the carpet. You feel as though you were in a trance, as though the violence before you was just a blur in the background. All you wanted was to hold that cap, to take a better look. There was something about it. Something you didn't understand. Something that drew you to it.

You bend down to reach for it. The boy raises his hands, begging Kas to stop, but another punch lands against his face. The cap's hard visor rests between your two fingers. It's bright turquoise blue eerily familiar. As you turn it your way, you read "Thinking Cap" aloud. Finally, it makes sense and the whole world returns to its high definition.

Your raising eyes land upon Dustin Henderson and his bleeding, bruised face. Kas pulls him up by his collar just to plunge his sharp fangs into his neck. "Stop!" you scream as you lunge towards Kas. Your hands press harshly against his chest, pushing him off Dustin's body. Dustin gasps as he quickly applies pressure upon his wound. He inches away, fueled by adrenaline, but is still too weak to crawl.

As he stumbles back, Kas' eyes look through you. There was no emotion. No recognition. He was purely in a kill mode and nothing will pull him out of it. He reaches for Dustin once again, but you step in his way. "Stop," you lead. Your hands slowly raising. "We can talk about this." His gaze is stuck upon the cowering body behind you. "Do you know who that is?" he asks with a chilling tone.

You are forced to remember the stories of Dustin's betrayal. You try your best to keep in mind that you may not have had a reliable source, but those stories still make you sick to your stomach. "I know," you whisper under your breath. Kas scoffs, taking a step forward. "Then there's nothing to talk about."

You place your hand upon his chest - a simple gesture that you hope he will respect. He turns to look at you, this time with a look of disgust. Those red eyes pulling him further and further from the Kas that you have come to know. "Move," he demands with a chilling, deep voice. Your eyes begin to well as fear strikes your chest. Despite stifling your sobs, you shake your head in refusal. He pulls his eyes from you, scoffing as he peers down at Dustin.

With an abrupt movement, Kas pushes you out of the way with his hand. Your body crashes harshly against the glass display, cracking it behind you. You fall to your hands and knees against the shards thick within the carpet's fabric. Your blood rushing between your fingers. A whimper escapes you as you pull out the biggest pieces, but all you can hear is Dustin's breathless pleads. "Stop, Eddie, this isn't you." His voice quivers, terrified by the bloodied, murderous sight before him.

You wince at the sound of his name, knowing it would just cause more pain. Kas winds up a kick before digging it into Dustin's ribcage. An animalistic yell falling from his lips. You can hear sobs as the boy crumbles into himself. "Please," he whispers. The words almost as painful as the microscopic shards in your palm.

Despite the glass, you pick yourself up. Harsh exhales as you push off the ground. You know this isn’t Kas. Not the man who held you in the rolling hills, and certainly not the man who you’ve come to care for. No, this is a boy who only knows pain, loneliness, and abandonment. The boy with red eyes, who only comes out when brutally faced with memories of the past.

Your body moves independently, no longer connected with your consciousness. There is no guilt or second guessing. You need to protect Dustin, not for him or Kas, but for Eddie. You do this for Eddie Munson.

Your fingers wrap around a lamp post resting on a side table beside the filthy couch. You yank it from its place, pulling out its plug recklessly. With a single swing, you crash the lamp against the base of Kas’ spine. He falls down immediately, knocked out. His face flat and smushed against the floor across from Dustin’s. You still see his chest rising and falling. You hate the relief you feel from the sight.

“Dustin,” you whisper as you fall on your knees beside him. He is hurt, badly. You rush to apply pressure against the bite. You can feel his pulse beneath your finger tips. It’s strong. It gives you hope. He grumbles as you tilt him onto his back. “Dustin,” you plead. ���Talk to me.” He lets out another sob, one that shakes you to your core. He turns back onto his side, reaching out for Kas’ unconscious body. “Eddie,” he cries softly.

You are hit like a tidal wave filled with emotions. Dustin’s cries have mirrored your own. You are terrified to think of what he will soon learn. How reality will hit him - hit him harder than Kas did.

“He’s okay,” you soothe. Your worried eyes peer back at Kas. His hair thrush against his face. His arms cross upon his chest as he sleeps off the hit. “Y/n?” he asks through sobs. His eye quickly swelling, only leaving him with his right. You take a deep breath, trying to stay in the moment with him.

“Yeah,” you let out with an exhale. In this context, your name feels right. "You found him," Dustin whispers with a hint of a bloodied smile. A breathy chuckle falls between you both. "He found me," you utter. His hand weakly falls from his neck. "He always said he would..." he trails off.

You drop your eyes to your hands. The pressure isn’t enough. It wasn't enough with his hand. You needed more, more than this. You can’t split your attention. He needs help. “Dustin, I need you to keep your hand right here,” you say, grabbing his hand and placing it firmly on his neck. He struggles to remain conscious but manages to keep pressure where needed.

Quickly, you crawl over to Kas. You carefully raise his head and place it within your lap. “Kas,” you whisper as your hand taps against his cheek. Your fingers push back strands of dark locks from his face. “Kas, you gotta wake up.” Another tap and his eyelids lightly flutter. Excitement and relief pour over you as you look back at Dustin. You just might be able to save him.

His lazy eyes open and land upon your face. His chocolate irises warm your soul. A small smile appears on those delicate lips. The man you know is back. You hold your hand to his cheek, leaning down towards him with your own beaming grin. “Hey darlin’,” he whispers but winces at the sudden pain on the base of his skull. “Hi Kas,” you murmur.

Kas’ eyes light up at the sound of your voice. Slowly, you watch his memory return. A twitch of his brow and his breathing increases. He attempts to sit up but you hold him down with a hand to his chest. “Kas,” you say softly. “I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” You can feel his heart racing beneath your palm. His jaw clenches as he slowly nods.

You smile, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Dustin,” you say but he immediately pushes against your hand. With a quick inhale, you continue, “Dustin is here. I know what he did to you,” you whisper. “But we need answers. We need to know his side of things.” The reality is that Kas only knows what Vecna told him, as far as you know, and you both have already caught the skinless fuck in a lie. You need to know exactly what happened to Eddie. You deserve to know.

Kas takes in sharp breaths through his nostrils. You try to calm him by brushing your hand through his curls. “What do you need me to do?” he asks reluctantly. He struggles to hold on to his anger when you provide him with the comfort and love he has been craving since he woke up in this hellhole. “Give him your blood, like you did for me.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he pushes up from the ground. He sits up beside you, keeping his eyes upon yours. “If he’s anything like you, he’s going to pass out for days with how much he needs,” he mutters with annoyance. “Good,” you offer. “It’ll give us some time to talk.”

He shakes his head as he finally pulls from your gaze. He bites into his wrist as though he was being asked to complete the biggest chore. He quickly grabs your palms and squeezes his hand into a fist above them. Drops fall and you whisper your gratitude while spreading the blood upon your cuts. He then crawls over to press his inner arm against Dustin’s mouth. As soon as blood touches his tongue, Dustin begins to reach for Kas. He holds his arm tight at his mouth, sucking more and more.

Kas finally rips his arm from Dustin’s grasp. His limp body falls backwards without another word said. Kas stands and walks up the stairs without looking back towards you. You rush to the boy’s side, quickly checking his neck. It had already healed over. The swollen eye slowly returns to its normal state. He finally looks like the boy you always saw seated beside Eddie at the Hellfire table.

With a smile, you reach onto the couch to retrieve a pillow and blanket. You place it under Dustin’s head and carefully tuck his body in. You are too scared to move him, but thankful he fell far from the glass. He needs rest to recover. You just wish that Kas’ blood healed mental wounds too.

You rush upstairs, wanting nothing more than to talk to Kas. You are worried, concerned. There is like a flick to him, some switch that gets triggered any time he is met with someone from Eddie’s past. When those red eyes appear, you have learned that Eddie nor Kas is present. It's a trauma response, a different personality - you don’t know. You just know that the man with red eyes is dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

As you walk into the bedroom’s doorway, you find Kas staring out into the mist again. You stand beside him, just before the sliding door. Your arms crossed over your chest. “He’s alive,” he mutters. You nod, knowing better than to try to make eye contact with him right now. “Thank you.”

He turns to you. You immediately note the tears in his eyes. “I saved him for you,” he whispers. You give him a reassuring nod, placing your palm at his cheek. “I know, Kas. Thank you.” He leans into your palm with brows furrowed. “You know what he did to me,” he painfully whispers as his eyes fall. “He left you,” you answer, raising his face back towards you. “But why? We don’t know why.”

Kas pulls away, rushing back to his side of the bed. “Why should I care?” he yells. You follow behind him but continue to respect his space. “Because you don't know the whole story. That asshole might've spun you a bullshit tale, telling you he left you on purpose,” you start. He shakes his head, whispering “no” on repeat as he paces in the room. “What if he had to leave?" You brush a hand through your hair. You truly hope that the reasoning falls along those lines or else you might actually be an accessory to murder.

"You don't remember anything?” you ask with sincerity. “I don’t remember!” he yells as he kicks the dresser. The wood snaps and breaks into shrapnel across the floor. You gasp at the sound, covering your mouth with your hand, but slowly you lower it. His face is pained. His fingers tapping against his head as his mental state crumbles before you. It hurts to see him like this.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur. You slowly approach his pacing rhythm. Your moves are hesitant and careful, knowing that any wrong touch could trigger his upset. Only a step away and you can feel the heat resonating off of his skin. He whispers to himself as his fingers tug onto the roots of his hair.

Your hand reaches for his bicep. Slowly, desperately slow as you trail your palm up to the back of his neck. You guide his forehead to your chest as you wrap your arms around him. His hands crash around your waist as he falls into your embrace. “I don’t want to remember,” he whispers against you.

Your hand pushes through Kas’ hair, shushing him as he cries soft sobs into your chest. You take a quick breath and clear your throat, trying to gather your thoughts through these intense emotions. “You don’t have to remember, baby,” you soothe. “You don’t have to remember. It's going to be okay."

You guide his head away from you so that you can hold his gaze. His eyes red and swollen from crying. You brush his tears away with your thumb. “You are safe. Here with me," you start. "But you have to let go of that anger and think for yourself.” He pulls away from you, sniffling as he does. “You almost killed him and you don’t even know why, Kas,” you plead. He throws his hand up, scoffing. "I've killed worse for less."

You aren't sure if he intended to upset or shock you with this statement. Regardless, you have decided to no longer accept the dangerous and disastrous emotions that a skinless chicken, Vecna, has decided for Kas. If he doesn't want to remember, that's his choice but he certainly doesn't get to act based off of emotions that a psychopath thinks he should have.

You grab his hand and pull him to a sit on the mattress. You recognize how lucky you are that he’s even allowing you to touch him, but you move confident and unbothered. “I understand not wanting to remember the bad stuff, trust me,” you mutter. “And that kid… if his actions lead to him not coming home, I-I would have no issues leaving him alone with you down there, but the fact is, he mattered.” You point to the boy through the floorboards, seething with your tears. “He mattered to Eddie and that is why we need to hear his side of things.”

As soon as you say his name, Kas’ head perks up again. His face turns into that familiar disgust as his lips pull and he begins a low growl. “Oh, don't start with that shit," you spit out. "Eddie talked about that boy like he was his fucking prodigy! He mattered.” He rolls his eyes, sucking his tongue against his teeth. “Why should I care who mattered to him?” he asks with revulsion.

“You care about me, don’t you?” you yell out hastily. You are caught off guard with the amount of vulnerability you threw to the wind. You accidentally put yourself in harm’s way, leaving yourself open for an attack. In this, you recognize that Kas can hurt you. He has the ability to hurt you to your core, something you did not expect or could have wanted. You are terrified of this situation, knowing how careless he truly could be with your heart. He could simply say "no" and your whole world would crumble.

Kas’ finger makes its way to your chin, raising it to his eye line. “Of course I care about you,” he murmurs. A twitch of a smile escapes you. You push away your happiness to finish your point, dropping the smile as quickly as it appeared. “Dustin mattered. Eddie wouldn't just care like that about anyone,” you say. “The why matters to me too.”

He takes in a breath, unintentionally pulling back and placing distance between you two. He slowly nods, showing his understanding. He may not like it, but he understands. It is just like that moment, when he could have let Vecna kill you. Eddie saved you that night, not Kas, and yet you'll never know.

“What do you need me to do?” Kas asks as he reaches for your hand. You gladly intertwine your fingers and bring both hands to your chest. “Let him tell his side. No more fighting. Just talking,” you plead. Your brows raise as you beg him to accept. He nods again, still not happy about the situation. “We’ll listen, and then I'll decide what to do with him,” he mutters. He pulls back his hand and stands, making his way to the door's threshold.

You turn, calling him back to you. “Kas.” Both your eyes meet in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. He leans against the doorframe. His body still and gorgeous. God, you wish you could take a picture of this moment. A keepsake to always remember his beauty. “I care about you too. You matter to me. I need you to know that,” you state plainly.

Kas pushes off the doorframe to walk your way. His hands are tangled in your hair before you feel him crash against your lips. A kiss so passionate you feel lightheaded, as if you could see the stars through the ceiling. He pulls away at just the right moment, leaving you dying for more, whimpering for his return. His lips only inches away when he whispers, “I love you too” just before walking out of the room.

As soon as he leaves, your eyes widen to an unmeasurable size. He loves you too? Your heart stills at the thought of him loving you. A hopeful feeling that raises your chest, but also makes you forget to breathe. It is a complicated feeling, but you wouldn't trade it for the world. Although, it's nothing compared to the panic you feel when you attempt to analyze the "too" part. Does he think you were telling him that you loved him? No, you were just telling him that you cared - that he meant something to you. Fuck, what if he's right. What if there is a "too?"

You quickly stand, shaking your head. A simple "nope" falls from your lips as you steadily make your way out the bedroom. This is not the time, nor the place to analyze your feelings. You make your way down the stairs with wide opened ears. Silence. You peer around the bannister and note that Kas sits upon the couch facing Dustin's unconscious body. He stares, not a blink to be seen.

Breaking his gaze, you purposefully walk before him while on your way to the kitchen. You happily feel his eyes upon you as you open one of the cabinets. Food will probably be difficult to find, but maybe you could find something edible. You reach up on your tippy toes to see the top shelf, fully aware that your oversized shirt raises up to your waist and exposes your panties. As you land back onto your heels, you look over your shoulder to catch his adoration. He coughs and quickly turns back to Dustin. You giggle, shaking your head.

Making your way to the fridge, you finally land upon an incomplete pack of Eddie's favorite brand of beer. Despite your crouch, you drop your head and take a deep breath. Tears well in your eyes but you blink, hoping they will disappear. With a deep breath, you stop to appreciate the sight. Eddie was here. He touched these beers and he touched this very fridge. "I miss you," you whisper to yourself. "Things may look a little weird from where you are, but I'm still crazy about you, baby. I will see you again."

With a sniffle, you reach for two bottles of beer - leaving three left for Eddie to finish somehow. You stand, slowly closing the door as you take slow inhales. You walk back towards the living room with both beers hanging between your fingers. Kas' eyes light up, a smile shortly follows. You sway the bottles, dancing as you do. "Oh yeah, darlin'," he encourages with a clap and a seated dance himself.

You hand him one, crashing beside him on the couch. Almost habitual, his hand reaches for your beer. He twists off the cap just as Eddie used to and hands it back to you. You take a sip without a second thought. He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, leaning back into the cushions. His arm wraps around your shoulders as you burrow into his chest.

As your eyes land upon the black screen of the TV, just beside Dustin's sleeping body, you hum to yourself. "Wanna see what's on?" you ask, peering up at him. Kas shrugs while taking another sip. You reach for the remote on the table and click the on button. Two men appear on the screen wearing white opened suits and brightly covered undershirts. "Oh, Miami Vice," you call out. "Have you seen it before?"

When you turn back to him, his chin is tucked within his neck. He watches the two men in disgust as he takes a swig of his beer. You laugh uncontrollably at the sight, landing a hand at his chest. "They look like douches, but they're pretty cool - fighting crime and shit," you share. "Let's watch five minutes of it and if you don't like it, we can change the channel?" He huffs, nodding at the idea. "I'll be counting down the minutes," he mutters.

And there you two sit for the next fourteen hours watching Miami Vice. Kas is completely invested in Detective Crockett and Tubb's storyline. He almost didn't want to leave to get food with you, but he managed to pull away from the TV to hide in the shadows while you were in the store and walk you back to Rick's. You decided to clean up the shards, which then turned into the entire living room, during a few commercial breaks. However around hour ten, you struggled to keep your eyes open and fell asleep on Kas' chest. It didn't help that he was running his fingers through your hair as you cuddled upon his spider tattoo.

Dustin still sleeps soundlessly upon the ground, tucked in his blanket and pillow. Kas has steadily relaxed within his presence. You have even caught a small smile when Dustin stretches out within his slumber. The world finally seems alright. You are beyond thankful for this quick break from your new reality. This is the only pure happy thing that has happened since Eddie passed. You will enjoy every second.

note: what'd you think? what's gonna happen next? are they in love, or are they just stuck in some twisted vecna love triangle? is kas eddie or is eddie kas? and who's this red eyed demon and how do we feel about 'em? sooooo many questions & more parts to come...

next part • the spider queen •

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• nav • no-no plagiarism • series • requests open •

[nectardaddy]

Foolish [Jean Kirstein x reader] 1

** Modern, college au because my Porco story is HEAVY, and I need something lighter. Cliché couple of incredibly smart while apart but dumb as hell together. Starting off with the classic too stupid to realize you both like each other. Pronouns are she/her for this story!

Trigger Warning: language

Enjoy!

-- Tunes: Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmare) ; Kid Cudi Let Me Know ; Juice WRLD

Hearing the loud chime of the bell tower across campus, you counted the short tolls in your mind before it stopped at ten. Closing your eyes and groaning, you simply couldn't believe that it was already so late in the evening. You tried to be a good student, truly, but the unfinished paper that lit up your laptop screen said otherwise. Knowing the material like the back of your hand, but lacking in the motivation department. Closing your computer with a sigh, you completely gave up, deciding to email the professor tomorrow with an excuse on why it's late.

Picking up your phone, you scrolled through social media mindlessly. Craving any escape you could from the paper that daunted your mind, and successfully losing it within the internet. A small chime caused you to look up at the top of your screen, a message coming through that made the hopeless romantic in you smile.

Jean: Are you struggling with this paper as much as I am? Jean: If you aren't just lie and say you are because I've lost all hope.

With a small chuckle to yourself, you clicked on the messages. You had known the man since freshman year of college, meeting him by chance at a party and later having a handfull of classes with him. You two were different majors, but both had to suffer through mandatory courses - the class with this dreadful paper was one of many. Smiling, you typed out a reply.

I don't have to lie I think I'm losing brain cells trying to write this thing. I'm only at 2 pages

Jean: Show off. I only have 1

Use thatbrain of yours, I know you have one up there

Jean: This brain was not meant for psychology

Your brain wasn't meant for much J

You rolled your eyes upon seeing the man saw the message and stopped replying. Jean was terrible at responding, especially if something else stole his attention. He'd much rather call or talk face to face, to which you teased him for. But his attention was easily grabbed by countless things, noting that it truly was better to actually speak with him.

Putting your phone down, you let out a groan as you stretched. Your back cracking, giving you relief from the sitting position you were in for nearly hours. Getting up from your bed, where you chose to do a majority of your homework rather than the desk, you sighed and rubbed at your strained eyes. Hearing your phone chime again, your eyes flickered over to the lit screen once more.

Jean: Let's find a party

Now this wasn't the first time the man had been a bit direct with you. More times than not, he was a straight shooter; not caring the connotation of his words, often times not even caring if he knew they would be taken differently. Another chime caught your attention as you picked your phone up once more.

Jean: I know you're not even doing that paper loser. Let's get drunk and forget that paper even exists

Biting at your lip, you wanted to text back a resounding yes all too quickly. But you restrained, wanting to think it over in your mind before answering. Hanging out was always what he called it, but to you it felt like torture to your heart. The man had a charm to him that you simply couldn't escape, even if you wanted to. Hanging out always involved drinking, and drinking always led to bad decisions.

The man wouldn't dare to even think to do something you wouldn't like or didn't want, rather the opposite. It was the fact you firmly believed that every interaction wasn't as sincere as you thought. One night, getting so belligerent that you had the gumption to kiss the man. A heated kiss but led to nothing more, and both pretending like it never even happened come the morning.

You often asked yourself why on earth did you want a man such as him. Not a complete whore, but definitely using his charm and looks to his advantage with any woman who passed. He tried, oh did he try, sometimes even in your presence, and failed miserably a good percentage. It made your heart strings pull in knots to know he was a flirt, good at it or not, but you wanted him regardless.

He often let you see parts of him no one else got to see, indulging you in rants and excitement over his love for history. And goodness was the man good at it, top in his major though he played it down very often. You were complete opposites. You had a love for science, while he saw it only as difficult coursework; while he loved history, and you thought it was a bore. But it drew you to him regardless, as he could make anything interesting.

That would involve me getting ready, which I have no motivation to do

Jean: You always look pretty damn good to me

As soon as your eyes scanned over the message, you felt a heat center on your face. These were the moments you felt like the man knew exactly what he was doing, buttering you up only to be left hanging at the end of the night. Looking over yourself, you let out a breath, deciding you certainly didn't look terrible. A little tired, clothes a bit disheveled from sitting, but a quick fix. If anything, you would be comfortable tonight.

Fine, I'll go. I'm not planning on getting too drunk tonight though

Jean: THANK GOD Jean: I really wanted to go out tonight now I have a hot date to go with me Jean: And yeah you say that now light weight, stop trying to out drink me and maybeyou wouldn't get so fucked up

With a few other messages being sent back and forth, deciding where and when, you put your phone down with a smile. You knew the man since freshman year, but he still had the capability of giving you butterflies. It was an intriguing feeling, but one you were so captivated with you didn't want to let it go. This man was truly going to be the death of you.

[generalsmemories]

Generalsmemories have hit 1k followers !! (I DON'T KNOW HOW) Thank you very much for your endless support for this blog and overwhelming love for Jing Yuan so far - as a personal thank you for your patience and supprt, we're doing a simple event of prompt drabbles

There'll be two sections of prompts you can choose from: fluff prompts or angst prompts and all the prompts will be written out as drabbles!

the rules will be right below this announcement which details what you have to do and how much you can request!

p.s: i need a break from having to write more than 5+ characters each event i do give me some slack for the first event- if i hit another milestone in the future i'll debate adding more characters to events like these HAHA

duration for requesting: 1st September - 8th September

rules:

You're free to mix up to 3 prompts (mixing sentences and scenarios works as well!) from both sections as you desire. but you're of course welcome to only request one singular prompt.

The reader will be gender-neutral, as such please address them as such when requesting for the benefit of everyone here!

please don't try to add more details along with the prompts - takes the fun out of it for me personally to conjure something up <3

If the request doesn't follow the rules I'll simply delete it without warning.

This is once again a Jing Yuan centric blog, but a certain Vidyadhara has been occupying my mind lately along with him, as such we're adding another character to the roster exclusively for this event!

As such, please request these two characters only if you wish for me to write something!

Jing Yuan

Dan Heng (Depending on how I interpret the prompts requested, I'll choose his forms if it's not specified!)

prompts: (all prompts taken from @/novelbear)

fluff sentences:

"can you call me that again?"

"hey, sweetheart can you grab that for me?" "you're talking to me?" "who else would i be talking to?"

"no, you didn't just call me 'love' you said 'my love'. that makes a huge difference."

"is that like a friendly nickname or?" [sarcastic] "yes, i go around calling all my friends 'my dearest'." "oh, really?" "no!"

"no, i'm not going to give you a bite because i know you're not gonna like it. then you're going to ask me how the hell i like it, and i don't want to listen to that right now."

 “you’re so warm.” “i hear you, but we really need to get up, love.” 

“you know you’re stuck with me, right?” “thank god i am…”

“you’re going to get sick if you keep coddling me.” “and you’re just going to get worse if i don’t…”

"i'll choose you always. no matter what."

"something's on your finger. give me your hand, let me see.."

fluff scenarios:

making a little scrapbook of every treasured memory together and giving it to them

playing with their hair until they fall asleep

that warm feeling they get when they successfully make the other laugh out loud

not letting the sick one move an inch.

a simple scenario centered around kisses

angst sentences:

“that was probably the least sincere apology i’ve ever recieved.”

“you haven’t changed.” “…do you mean that in a good way or bad way?”

“hey, no crying…i thought we said we wouldn’t cry.”

“why do you seem upset?” “why the hell do you think…”

“everything felt so empty without you.”

“you’ve been tossing and turning for the last forty minutes. what’s up?”

 “i don’t want to go to bed angry…can we please talk about this?”

 “you told me you’d be careful!” 

"it's okay, we can fix this..."

"wait, don't go, please.."

angst scenarios:

 catching the other one crying shortly after an argument and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you.

 pacing around while debating whether or not you should text them after they’ve left the house for a bit 

really trying not to say anything at first, but the other can tell they're upset by their mannerisms and try to find out what it is that's wrong

breaking down mid-hug because they just needed this so much

needing to go to an event after a party and having to pretend as if they aren’t angry with one another the entire time 

[justmightyshadows]

This is an NSFW piece(<1500 words) about Jaheira and her favorite Tav - Thalwyn. There's some unintentional edging happening.

I'm getting prompts from the list here: BG3 Fic Feb and this is day 10!

If you like it show some love on AO3.

The top of the rampart was cool under the moonlit sky, Jaheira watched intently as you patched up her armor. Your hands skillfully weaving pieces of metal and leather together - you added a charm of blade ward since she seemed in the habit of being attacked everytime you took your eyes off of her. Her eyes enveloped you and as always when she looked at you it felt the way a predator would - you’d see her eyes shifting, her body position changing to get the best angle of you at any given moment. This time though, that was your intention, she obviously had things on her mind. Sitting with you was better than sitting alone, sure, but she had to have wanted more than that. You had given her space to make the first move and when she didn’t you picked up the armor as if it were any other night and started to mend it.

“I appreciate the free service but do you think your tinkering can wait?” As expected, picking up a literal craft while she was there had incensed her.

Good.

Now to turn the screws a bit - wiggle the bait, in her case, in front of her and see if she was as she acted to be.

“Wait until what? Is there something you need from me?” Your voice sounded sincere you were sure but the intent was simply to get her to make the first move. She needed to prove that she could, that she wasn’t pining after the love of her dead husband, that she wasn’t resting on you to follow after like the other woman had. You needed assurances this time around - no more waiting for half ass commitment.

“Put the armor down now, Thalwyn.” Her voice was low, commanding as she tossed the armor away from you and straddled your outstretched legs. “Your hands have better uses tonight.” She pulled them to rest along her sides while she bent down to kiss you. Her teeth pulling softly at your lips, her hands trailing up along your hips to the soft meat of your ribs. She turned your head and gave your neck a teasing bite - it would be just enough to leave a mark you thought.

She wanted me to herself, that thought alone set your body on fire. It felt like you began to move in over drive your hands found the bottom of the tunic and slid it up over her head exposing her full breasts to the night air. You pressed your face against her gripping her tightly around the waist as your worshiped each one with the warm, wet embrace of your mouth. She arched her back into you and when she thought you’d had your fill she rose.

“I will not be naked alone, take off your clothes.” She demanded and like any order from Jaheira, you obeyed, sliding from your nightdress into the cold hands of the night. Jaheira stared at you, taking in the curves of your body as she poured two glasses of wine.

“Here, it will keep you warm until I can get you to forget the temperature completely.” The air of cockiness was attractive on her - she clinked your cups together and took a big gulp before sitting down next to you. Her lips meeting yours again and the taste of red wine was eased into the back of your throat. “You could have had me warm by now if you weren’t so nervous that you needed a drink.” You said when she had let you come up for air. It was all a ruse - you could not feel the cold or the wine just her lips, her breath even her gaze had warmed you hours ago. If anything you were worried once she felt between your thighs you’d be exposed for the fraud you were.

She laughed, throwing her head back and wagging her finger at you. “I do not need wine to bed you. I need wine to be close to someone who is more than a simple lay. What would a little bird know of that?” She flipped you over harshly onto your stomach and then pulled up to have you on all fours.

“Here - I like you better in this position.” She planted a hard smack against your ass and lowered her face to feel your wetness with her mouth.

“Thalwyn” She seemed speechless and that is the impression you had hoped to leave with your body. You could feel her breathing in and out, pausing just slightly to think. Her tongue lightly spreads between your lips, causing you to gasp and moan-

 Knock. KNOCK. knock knock knock.

Someone was pounding against the lift door that leads to the ladder. She threw a blanket over you and wrapped herself in another. Laying flat on the ground she cracked the door slightly.

“What could you possibly want at a time like this Geraldus?!” She was practically stabbing him with her words.

“I’m sorry High Harper, I know you said you’d be busy tonight and I really did try to get everything worked out on my own. There wasn’t anything about this in training I even looked back over the book -“

“There is no book! Get to the point.” She growled angrily at him.

“Well, I got a letter and…” His voice trailed off as you lost interest in the information. Fucking Harpers.

I mean - your brain actually couldn’t keep up with how annoyed you were and you felt yourself just cursing mindlessly because, well,

Shit.

This had to be a bad dream, you were dripping in front of Jaheira and here come the honor children brigade fucking up what should have been pure ecstasy for the next few hours. She finished her conversation with him and slammed the door close. She gave your wetness another kiss, sending shockwaves across your body and reached for her clothes.

“I have to go.” It seemed a miracle that you even heard her, your face was pressed into the cold stones as you tried to think through something witty to say, but nothing came.

Finally, you helped her get back into her armor, kneeling in front of her as you tied the leather greaves onto her. Now, the power was completely off balance. You were naked in front of the High Harper while she looked down at you - her eyes hungry, her body armored and more importantly - she was leaving and you were staying here. She was the important High Harper and you were what exactly, a lover? A hot fuck? It didn’t seem to matter to her and why would it? She was going to be just fine no matter how this went and you were what Thalwyn, just going to keep on being the distraction that she got to have on her off days? The thoughts would have to wait you decided - this wasn’t productive right now, not with the way your body felt at the moment.

“Ni Gyrah(little bird) - I will be back in about 2 hours. Wait for me here, this will not take long.” She disappeared down the ladder and you watched as she made her way into the city, through a small crevice in the wall.

You waited an hour, pressed against your back trying to cool the lewd thoughts that are running through your mind. Then another hour and the icy chill of the night finally reaches your bones so you dress yourself again. Then another hour - this time your lack of dinner has caught up to you. You head from the lookout to your tent to grab some food, you’d be back before anyone could make their way up the tower anyway. In your tent is a small letter thrown on top of your bed roll.

Need 3 days, be back.

~ Hatchling

You turned it over expecting maybe hell, any other information but it was blank on the back with small smudges from the ink staining it.

Unbelievable, you wondered if there was a false promises part of Harper training or if this was how they all naturally came, hardwired to be self-righteous assholes with no skills on how to use a clock.

[seventh-district]

and it tastes so bittersweet

“You never answered my question, you know?”

Your words are more of a gentle nudge than an accusatory statement, hoping that maybe you can coax another secret out of the crypt of a man sitting before you.

You watch a small smile surface on his features, and he bites it back before it can grow into a full-fledged embarrassed grin.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy if I tell you.”

The sincere hesitance in his voice pulls a surprised laugh out of you.

“Matthew, I already know you’re crazy.”

Your words are dripping with affection, no malice to be found behind them, and you watch as his shoulders begin to shake with poorly hidden laughter.

You spend a dark evening in bed with your effectively immortal partner (in crime). The two of you open up to one another, eventually getting a taste of each other in a way that you hadn't anticipated.

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat - Minors DNI

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Word Count: 7,446

Content Warnings: [spoilers for The Malenkee Saga] [SH / NSSI] [blood] [blood consumption] [death] [watching someone get shot] [bleeding] [violence] [vague & foggy traumatic memories] [scars] [DIY heart transplants] [implied murder] [sensual/sexual(?) desire that is hinted at but never acted upon aside from a few little kisses] [you and Matt are both wanted criminals, mentally unwell, and so, so in love with each other <3]

There isn't any explicit sexual content in this fic, but due to its dark and graphic nature, it's still NSFW. I wrote this from the same perspective with which I watched the entire Malenkee Saga - that of an adult. I've recently become aware that some people view Malenkee/Viewer as being a child. While I don't know why, given that Matt literally confesses his romantic interest in them at one point, and Jim clearly states that his videos aren't for kids, I still feel the need to clarify this.

This fic is not intended for anyone under the age of 18.

The small bead of blood trailing a thin line down along your forearm is darker than it used to be.

There’s plenty of things you’re sure you’ve forgotten in this life, numerous aspects of your past that you can no longer recall with any amount of certainty. After enough years pass, any particular memory you think back on could have just as easily been a vivid dream. But you’re quite certain that your blood used to be red.

It looked green, blue, violet even, as it coursed through your veins, thinly veiled by the skin of your wrist. But whenever that skin was opened and the liquid took the path of least resistance, flowing out in a slow, steady stream across your skin, it was always a deep, vivid red.

The liquid that’s now pooled in the crease of your elbow and is quickly congealing into a sticky, tacky puddle is solid black, though.

It’s not the lighting. Yes, the room is fairly dark, but even when you set your blade aside in favor of palming around in the sheets and find your phone, it’s flashlight shining a spotlight on your arm, it’s still black. You straighten your arm out, twisting it under the light, inspecting it with a dull sense of curiosity. This is far from the most unsettling thing you’ve ever witnessed, but still, it is a bit odd.

Why is it like that?

When you tilt your arm, you half-expect the little puddle of semi-liquid to follow gravity’s pull and slide downward, but it stays put, practically having adhered itself to your skin already. It hasn’t fully dried yet, refusing to spread out and tinge your skin a shade darker like it used to. It just clings to you, growing more viscous by the second.

After staring at your arm in dumb silence for a minute, trying to think of any reasonable explanation for this anomaly, your mind suddenly offers up an unpleasant yet helpful memory.

This is the same viscous black liquid that you watched escape from the bullet hole that one of those bastards put in Matt’s neck.

You felt it before you saw it, hot and wet, spraying across your face as your eyes snapped closed. It was the only sensation you could process aside from the deafening ring in your ears.

As the ringing faded out, it was replaced with the sound of Matt’s heartbeat growing ever weaker, ever slower. You blinked your eyes open to see him sprawled back on the floor in front of you, all but lifeless. The bottom of his mask had ridden up his neck, allowing you to clearly see the entry wound, slowly weeping a thick, black liquid.

Every following aspect of that memory remains as much of a blur to you as it felt when you experienced it firsthand.

Two pulses, yours rapid and his slowing, their alternating beats a pulsing pressure in your ears, your arms, your fingers.

The pressure on your wrists increasing exponentially before vanishing altogether as the chain holding your handcuffs together snapped, its links unable to withstand the newfound force you exerted upon them.

The floor falling away from you as your body rapidly stood, moving of its own accord, acting upon long-forgotten instincts to summon strength you didn’t know you could possess.

As the seconds passed in slow motion, you began to feel less like an onlooker and more… like a commander.

Your body the puppet, your mind the puppeteer.

Now, you’d been making attempts at reconnecting yourself with your unique set of abilities ever since Dimi had made you aware of them. You hadn’t managed to get very far with them, though. The fact that no one was entirely sure of the scope or extent of your abilities didn’t help matters either. How do you train a muscle that you can’t feel anymore?

Dimi had suspected that you may have been capable of more than just telepathy, suggesting that your mind very well might be capable of transferring more than thought. Perhaps it could transfer energy. Perhaps it could transfer force. Perhaps it could… manipulate your environment. Bend it to your will.

So, he’d worked with you to the best of his ability during the time you spent together, to try and help you find that power again. To your genuine shock, his suspicions had been correct.

Though, you never got farther than lifting so much as a paperclip by the time that he…

By the time that Matt…

By the time…

You hadn’t gotten very far with your telekinetic efforts.

For some strange reason that up until that point you had yet to understand, every subsequent encounter you had with Matt left you feeling… more like yourself. Or, maybe… more like some version of yourself that you used to be. For the life of you, you couldn’t describe why, but the more time he spent around you the more you found yourself capable of.

While you laid in the hospital recovering from your… memorable encounter with that man behind the white mask, you filled your free time with practice. Any time you were alone in your room, you’d put all of your energy and focus into lifting the heaviest objects you could see.

Anything to keep your mind off of whether or not you’d ever see Matt again.

The chair beside your bed was too heavy. As was any of the other actual furniture or equipment in the room. So you set your goal a bit lower. Working your way down from heaviest to lightest, you tried at every object in the room until you were able to move something.

You ended up spending a lot of time opening and closing drawers, as well as misplacing all manner of small objects that week, much to your nurse’s growing confusion, and Dr. Roberts’ subtle amusement.

After being released from the hospital, you were finally able to test your abilities on a wider range of objects, and from there your days consisted entirely of keeping yourself alive, honing your abilities, and finding Matt.

You hadn’t gotten much more adept by the time you found yourself in his company once again.

The events that played out that day gave you confirmation of what you’d already suspected, though.

He definitely made you stronger.

Simply being in close proximity had been enough for you to feel the effects, but you had no idea how much potential power he truly held until he literally pulled it out and handed it to you.

Looking back, you’re still not sure if it was the life he gave you or simply the traumatizing experience of having him shot point blank in front of you that spurred you on.

It was probably both.

You’re quite sure that he had no clue what he was doing when he offered you part of himself. Hell, you’re fairly certain that he doesn’t even know what he is, let alone what you are or what you’d be capable of if given access to whatever kind of power he holds.

He was genuinely just trying to give you one more chance at life.

There was no way in hell that you were just gonna take it and run. He’d saved your life, so it was only fair that you return the favor.

The two poor men they sent to execute Matt and take you in never stood a chance. Their guns flew out of their hands before they could even take proper aim at you, and the fight was over before it even began.

Bits and pieces of that day flash in your mind, blurry and out of order. You do your best to sort them.

You remember your nails tearing into skin.

You remember screaming. Begging. Prayer.

You remember muscle tearing, blood flowing, bones cracking.

You remember the weight of a human heart, cradled in your hands.

You remember the brush of your bloodied knuckles against Matt’s skin as your trembling hands lifted the tail of his shirt.

Even now, trying to parse through it all threatens to send you into another migraine, so you just let the memory settle back into the haze of your foggy mind.

The only thing that matters is that the two of you walked out of that room alive, with two hearts beating in each of your chests.

-

The bathroom door leading into your bedroom swings open slowly, allowing light and steam to flood in. The widening fraction of light spreading across your floor and the smell of soap on hot steam is enough to snap you out of your thoughts, and you realize you’re still sitting there pointing your phone’s light at your bloody wrist. You quickly turn it off, your pulse rapidly increasing at the realization that you’re about to be found out.

You snap your head around to face the motion in your periphery as Matt steps out of the bathroom, looking down as he ties a cloth rope around his waist, cinching his robe closed. As he does so, he speaks to you, meandering his way a few paces over towards the bed.

“You were right, doll! This extra robe of yours fits me quite well, don’t you think?”

His hands land on his hips as he raises his head in a proud display, gracing you with that unabashed grin of his that he has such a penchant for hiding.

This might be the first time that you regret being able to see his facial expressions, though.

You watch as his eyes dart from your face down to your lap, to the blood staining your exposed skin, to the way the light from the bathroom bounces off of the sharp, shining blade resting on your knee. You watch his expression shift from one of relaxed joy to one of panic in about two seconds flat.

He’s sat himself down on the mattress in front of you before he even speaks, his hands anxiously hovering over you, not sure what to do but needing to do something.

“Love, what happened? Why… what…”

His voice is soft and sincere when his eyes look back up and meet yours.

“Did you do this to yourself on purpose again?”

You didn’t have the decency to try and hide this from him, but you do have enough of it to at least look guilty at having been caught. Your head drops in a nod of confirmation, and you mutter a small “yeah… I’m sorry…”

You don’t see the slow shake of his head, but you hear the sadness in his voice when he speaks.

“No… no, you don’t need to be sorry, love.”

Your eyes catch the movement as his hand draws closer to your face, hesitating and hovering a few inches away.

“May I… touch you?”

You nod again slowly.

“Of course.”

You feel the pads of his fingers gently come to rest along your jaw, still soft and warm from his shower. He carefully angles your head up to face him.

“I just want to know why… Are you hurting? What’s… what’s upset you? What drove you to do this tonight?”

You close your eyes and shake your head slowly, contemplative. This side of your self injury is something you hadn’t really explained to him yet, so it’s understandable that he thinks it’s because something’s upset you.

How the fuck are you gonna explain that you were just doing it tonight because it feels good?

“I’m not upset, Matt. Honestly! I just…”

You dare to meet his gaze again and he’s still eyeing you with a level of concern that is far too sincere, far too unconditional, far too gentle.

You wouldn’t think a man that has taken as many lives as he has could ever look at you with such innocence in his eyes.

The saddest part is that you really don’t think it’s an act. He really is just… an enigma.

Well, it’s not like it’ll be the craziest thing he’s ever heard, right? Maybe… maybe he’ll understand.

“I’m not sure how I can explain this to you, honey…”

You glance away from his face, and your eyes catch on the way the sleeve of his robe has slid up his arm, exposing the skin there. Countless raised black lines litter his forearms, and you figure you’ll start out with a question for him.

“So, uhm… you’ve cut yourself many times, right?”

His eyes dart down to his exposed wrist, quickly flicking over towards yours, and then back up to meet your gaze again. He nods as he hums a questioning agreement.

“Mhm?”

“And… like we spoke about before, it’s usually because you’re trying to relieve some sort of pain that’s inside your mind, yeah?”

He nods again, brows furrowing in concern.

“Well, uhm, have you ever just… felt the urge to do it even when you weren’t in any pain? Maybe even when you felt good? Have you ever just… wanted to cut because it feels nice?”

He seems to take in your words for a moment, his gentle grip on your jaw loosening entirely as his hand lowers down to find your wrist instead. He carefully cups the back of your forearm, bringing it further up towards him to get a better look at the rapidly healing lines.

“Is that why you did this tonight? Because it feels good?”

There’s none of the mocking or confusion you feared would be in his tone.

“Yes. I just… it’s been a while since I’ve even done it, what with… everything that’s been going on lately. I’ve scarcely had the time! And- and it’s not like something happened today that upset me, I just… I don’t know. Sometimes something will happen that reminds me of how nice it feels to get hurt, and… I get that urge again.”

His fingers tap rhythmically against your skin as he hums in contemplation, eventually responding with another question.

“So… what happened? What reminded you of how good it feels?”

Oh, yeah. That’s a good question, actually.

Hah.

“Well…” you huff a small laugh at the memory.

“You remember how I was trying to cut that strip of hard plastic yesterday?”

His head nods curtly as he recalls your attempt, realization already seeming to dawn on his features before you can finish explaining.

You can’t help but smile at him a little.

Smart boy.

“And you remember how I gave up and tried snapping it in half with sheer force?”

It’s his turn to smile a bit, his lips quirking up to the side in a knowing smirk before he parts them and finishes your explanation for you.

“And it snapped, broke into several small, sharp pieces, which flew in all manner of directions.”

You nod your head in silence, letting him tell the rest of the story.

“One piece flew up and scratched you… right…”

He reaches up, carefully grazing the pad of his thumb across the apple of your cheek.

“…here.”

You can’t help but sigh and lean into his gentle touch, recalling the way he worriedly sat you down on the bathroom counter yesterday afternoon. You could feel his fingers trembling, muttering about your reckless behavior as he applied ointment to the very minor wound.

“That’s all it was, honestly. That’s all it took to make me crave this feeling.”

You both glance back down at your wrist, still cradled gently in one of his strong hands. Silence lingers for a moment, and you eventually break it with a scoff.

“That sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

He pulls in a deep breath, his thumb grazing over a patch of your skin littered with old white scars. His voice is oddly calm, almost… resigned when he speaks.

“…no. I don’t think it does.”

Your gaze flicks back up to meet his eyes at his unexpected acceptance.

“You don’t?”

His eyes meet yours for a moment before he slowly releases his grip on your wrist. You lower it back down to rest on your lap as his focus shifts to his own arms, rolling one sleeve up to better showcase his scars.

“I don’t. I guess… I can understand it, in a way.”

It’s only now that you realize he never answered your question earlier.

“Yeah?”

“…yeah, but… it’s not exactly the same for me.”

You wait for a moment, expecting him to elaborate, but his silence remains. You can’t imagine what could possibly be so different about it for him that has him reluctant to tell you.

“You never answered my question, you know?”

Your words are more of a gentle nudge than an accusatory statement, hoping that maybe you can coax another secret out of the crypt of a man sitting before you.

You watch a small smile surface on his features, and he bites it back before it can grow into a full-fledged embarrassed grin.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy if I tell you.”

The sincere hesitance in his voice pulls a surprised laugh out of you.

“Matthew, I already know you’re crazy.”

Your words are dripping with affection, no malice to be found behind them, and you watch as his shoulders begin to shake with poorly hidden laughter.

You add onto your response with a little more reassurance.

“And I’m right there with you, you know? I’ll be impressed if you’ve got some reason for doing this that genuinely shocks me. So, just hit me with it.”

He glances up at you again, his laughter fading as he composes himself, and you still see a trace of hesitance in his gaze.

“Do you really think there’s anything I could learn about you at this point that would make me shy away from you, Matt?”

His shoulders shrug, and he mumbles his response through his teeth as they chew nervously at his bottom lip.

“…maybe?”

You reach out to grab at his hand before catching yourself, pulling back a bit.

“May I touch you?”

Consent goes both ways, after all.

He nods his head in a definitive “yes” and you take his hand in yours with all of the same gentleness that he graces you with. You idly play with his fingers a bit as you lean forward, ignoring your own injury in favor of focusing on him.

“You don’t scare me, Matt. I know you’re different. Very different. But… so am I, you know? We may be two different kinds of strange, two different kinds of crazy, but… I think we compliment each other’s differences. Uhm… besides, I think we may be more similar at this point than either of us really know.”

His expression shifts to one of confusion at that, and you’re quick to divert the topic back to his confession.

“I promise you’re not gonna freak me out, regardless of your reason for cutting. You can tell me. I want to know.”

He pulls in a deep breath, steeling himself before he speaks.

“Well… it’s true that a lot of the time I do it to… relieve the pain… inside me.”

You nod your head, silently urging him to continue.

“That’s not the only reason, though.”

One of your hands leaves his, trailing your fingertips softly down the heavily scarred skin of his inner arm.

He looks away from you when he finally says it.

“I like the way it tastes.”

Your motions come to a halt at his words, and you sit there just blinking and breathing for a moment as it sinks in. His muscles begin to tense as his fear spikes, and he’s about to apologize, get up and run out of the room in embarrassment when you finally start laughing.

He doesn’t know if he wants the floor to swallow him whole or if he wants to sit here a little longer, taking in the sound of your beautiful laughter. Even if it’s at his expense.

You crane your neck around to look up at him from where you’ve nearly doubled over yourself in your laughter, and finally speak.

“Is that all? Is that what you were so afraid to tell me, Matt?”

His confusion is written all over his features as you lean back up, one hand coming to rest on your chest as you compose yourself. The poor thing sounds so confused when he answers you.

“Uhm, yes?”

You smile, shaking your head at him fondly, as you’re quick to put his fears to rest.

“That’s nothing, sweetheart! I promise you.”

The tension in his muscles visibly relaxes, and he manages to hold your gaze as he speaks this time.

“Really? It doesn’t… turn you off?”

You watch his eyes widen at his sudden realization of what he said, and he’s quick to clarify what he meant as a furious blush dusts his cheeks.

“Not- not like that! That’s not what I- oh, bloody hell…”

You bite back your knowing grin, maybe a bit too eager to watch him fluster himself like this.

“You know what I meant, don’t you?”

You decide to relieve him of his growing embarrassment, nodding as you reassure him.

“It’s okay, love, I know what you meant. And no, it doesn’t freak me out. Nothing like that, honestly. I actually… it’s… hm.”

His brow furrows a bit as you search for the right words.

“It’s curious.”

You think for a moment, before a silly question pops up in your mind. You’re teasing him with it before you can stop yourself.

“You’re not… a vampire, are you?”

Your lighthearted tone works in accomplishing your goal of getting him to relax a bit, and you watch him laugh a little as he shakes his head in denial.

“No, I don’t think so, pumpkin. It’s… not like I crave it, and I certainly don’t need it to live, I just… enjoy it?”

You hum in acknowledgement, failing to keep your mind from offering up a mental image of him making such a discovery. You picture him cutting his skin open just to bring his wrist to his open mouth, tongue lapping at the pitch black liquid that escapes the broken skin.

The… pitch black liquid…

He watches your smile fall as you lose yourself in your thoughts, a look of intense curiosity replacing it. Your head snaps up to look at him, stating the obvious like you’ve just had a revelation.

“You have black blood.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before slowly nodding his head in agreement.

“I do.”

“Has it always been black?”

He glances away from you, his eyes landing on nothing in particular as he gazes into the distance behind you, trying to recall.

“As far back as I can remember, yes.”

You hum as you think, knowing that you likely won’t be getting any solid answers as to the man’s true origins tonight.

No matter. Even if neither of you ever manage to figure out why he is… the way he is, that’s not something you’ll lose sleep over.

Looking down at your own wrist, and the now dried blood adhered to your skin, another question comes to you.

“What does it taste like?”

He seems a bit thrown off by your shift in question, but recovers quickly enough, trying to find a way to describe it.

“It’s… uhm… hm. I don’t know! It doesn’t really taste like any food I've ever eaten, so I don’t know how to compare it.”

Well, that answer is coming from a man who’s genuine favorite food is sopping wet bread, so, you’d be taking his description with a pinch of salt anyways.

With your curiosity now peaked, and with a newfound solid excuse to indulge yourself once again, you allow your impulsive nature to take over. Quickly picking the blade up again, you bring it to the soft skin of your inner arm, near your elbow where the veins are better hidden, and make one fast, shallow swipe across. Just enough to draw blood.

Matt nearly shouts your name in horror as he reaches for your hand holding the blade, keeping a firm yet gentle hold on your wrist.

“What was that for?!”

The panic in his voice is enough to make you wince in regret, and he catches your reaction, misinterpreting it as fear. He lowers his voice significantly, doing his best to keep it level.

“I’m… I’m not mad at you. I’m not going to hurt you. I just… what was that? Why’d you do it again?”

Your eyes stay locked on the fresh cut, watching the blood slowly leak from it. You note how it moves slower than usual, far quicker to congeal and coagulate, moving more like a quick-drying glue than normal human blood.

You act quickly, before it can dry any further, bringing your arm up to your mouth and pressing your tongue flat against your skin. Dragging it upwards, you chase the short trail it made all the way back to the source, sliding the tip of your tongue across the cut a few times before pulling away.

You close your eyes, taking a moment to focus on the taste.

…

He was right. It doesn’t taste like anything you’ve had before.

If you had to compare it to something, the closest you could get would be…

“Bittersweet.”

Your eyes snap open as you utter the word, and you meet Matt’s gaze again.

You couldn’t decipher the mix of emotions currently written on his features if your life depended on it. His tone is nothing short of bewildered when he finally speaks.

“What?”

You crack a smile at him.

“It tastes bittersweet! But- you’re right. I’ve never tasted anything quite like it either.”

At an obvious loss for words, his mouth opens and closes a few times in silence, reminiscent of a fish.

Cute.

You give a light tug on the hand of yours he’s still holding, and his grip tightens slightly. You huff a small sigh, understanding his reluctance to let you go. You offer him a compromise.

“You can take the blade if you’ll give me my hand back, love.”

He reaches up with his other hand and carefully plucks the sliver of stainless steel from between your fingers, reluctantly loosening his grip on your wrist.

You shoot him a grateful smile, immediately reaching down and dipping the pad of your index finger into the little puddle of blood that’s since formed atop the cut. Pulling your hand back, you eye the way it clings to your skin before your eyes flick over to Matt, watching you with what you can only identify as horrified curiosity.

You bring your finger up towards his lips, and to your slight surprise, he doesn’t back away. Attempting to appeal to his recent confession, you offer him a soft-spoken question.

“Aren’t you curious what I taste like?”

You watch his eyes flick back and forth between yours and your blood-soaked fingertip, and you prepare yourself to pull back. You ready yourself to apologize for being so forward, and for scaring him the way that you did. As soon as you make the first move to pull away, though, he parts his lips and finally speaks.

His confession is nothing more than a soft whisper.

“Yes. Please.”

There’s an immediate shift in the air as he speaks, and you watch a sudden, desperate hunger make itself visible in his gaze. He reaches out, fingers slowly closing around your wrist once again as he brings your hand further towards him.

You watch in rapt fascination as his eyes close, he parts his lips, and the pad of your finger is gently pressed down against his waiting tongue. His lips close tightly around your fingertip, and slowly, reluctantly, he pulls your hand away.

No traces of blood remain as you glance at your finger, and you watch as he swallows, his eyes blinking back open a moment later.

You suspect that you shouldn’t feel as much pride as you do when you notice his blush having returned in full force.

Your eyebrows raise as you cock your head to the side in question.

“So? What do I taste like?”

Finding his voice, he clears his throat as his gaze wanders from your eyes, to your smile, and finally down to your blood-stained wrist.

“Better than I do, poppet…”

He can’t help himself as he reaches out a hand, moving towards your wrist before stopping and glancing up at you, wordlessly requesting your permission. You nod, a loving smile gracing your features, and in the back of his mind he wonders what he ever did right in this life to deserve someone like you.

He swipes two fingers through the small puddle of blood that’s yet to finish drying, his touch feather light and obviously trembling. Bringing his fingers back to his lips, he cleans them of your blood quickly, like a man starved.

“A damn sight better than I do, that’s certain.”

You ignore the heat you feel rising to your own cheeks, and counter his compliment with a little playful banter. Taking on a flirtatious tone, you bat your eyelashes at him and wave away his words.

“Why, Matthew, you flatter me!”

That seems to work in breaking the tension a bit, and he chuckles at your theatrics before he speaks.

“I’m serious though, doll. Your blood really does taste better than mine.”

You glance down at the dried blood and quickly healed cuts adorning your wrist, the previously open wounds now sealed off, replaced with thin black raised lines. Just like…

Just like the ones on Matt’s arms.

It’s at this moment that you realize that you never showed him the discovery you made while he was in the shower.

“You know what? That’s… actually a bit odd. I figured mine would taste pretty similar to yours…”

You trail off in thought, and Matt cuts in, his own curiosity now peaked.

“Why’s that?”

You reach out for your phone once again, turning its flashlight back on.

“Well, because… uh…”

You point the light at your wrist, clearly displaying the dried bloodstains on your skin. They’re solid black, and so are your new scars.

“It seems that my blood is black now, too.”

Matt’s eyes widen at the realization, looking back up at you in genuine confusion.

“Wait- but- why? It used to be red! I know it did! It- it got all over my hands when I was pulling all those safety pins out of you…”

You nod in agreement.

“You’re right, it was red then. But I think… something happened since then that caused my blood to take on the same properties that yours has.”

You turn the flashlight back off, placing your phone aside.

“What do you mean?”

There’s that soft, innocent tone of his again. He truly has no idea how giving you one of his literal hearts may have also passed along part of his… DNA, parasites, black magic… whatever the hell he’s got coursing through his veins.

Maybe those bullets to the head really did do a bit of damage to his cognitive skills.

Or, maybe being alive for 160-something years just begins to erode your mind at some point.

Looking up to respond to him, you let your eyes wander across Matt’s features.

His long brown hair is still messy and damp from his shower. A few shorter pieces cling to his temples, framing two small round scars from his past unfortunate run-ins with the cops. You know there’s a third one, from another, older, more… traumatizing entry wound hidden by the hair above his left ear. You felt it one night before you saw it, when you’d been carding your fingertips through his hair. As the two of you laid together, one of your nails had caught on the raised textured skin while you idly scratched them along his scalp.

You’ll never forget the way he sobbed into the sheets, holding onto you for dear life as he shakily recounted the events that gave him that specific scar.

You’d never wanted to kill someone as badly as you did that night, when Matt told you bits and pieces of what that horrible man had done to him.

Hard to kill someone that’s already dead, though.

None of the scars from his various bullet entries have a matching exit wound. So, since you can’t very well take him to a medical facility to have him studied, you really have no idea how his body handles getting shot. It could be anything from simply adapting to living with multiple bullets in his brain, to something more far-fetched like his body managing to dissolve any foreign objects that enter it, and mending itself like nothing ever happened at all.

It’s not like that’s any more far-fetched than his body’s ability to store, remove, and receive hearts like they’re some sort of accessory to be swapped out whenever the situation calls for it.

An ability that has been gifted to you as well, apparently.

Your eyes follow the trails of wet hair that cling to his neck, snaking their way down to his collarbones and disappearing beneath the plush fabric of the robe you’ve gifted him.

Reaching out, you glance at him for permission to touch, and once granted, you gently tease the ends of his hair out from beneath his robe. Laying it out across the cloth covering his shoulders, you nod in approval. That must be more comfortable than wet hair clinging to his skin.

As you move to draw your hand back, you stop as your fingertips trail over his most recent scar. Yet another black, raised circle with little tear lines running out from the center in all directions, reminiscent of a star.

A permanent reminder of the time you witnessed a man blow a bullet hole in your beloved’s neck.

You run the pad of your thumb across it, feather light, and resist the urge to lean in slowly and press your lips to the mark. Shaking yourself out of your contemplation, you struggle to remind yourself of what you were just talking to him about.

Lord, maybe he transferred some of his memory issues over to you as well.

You think hard for a moment, and it eventually comes back to you.

“Do you remember when you gave me your heart?”

You watch him blink back into the present moment himself, and can’t help but notice the way his gaze had been lingering on your lips.

“Of course I do, poppet.”

Pulling back, you allow your hand to drop from his neck, trailing downward along the curve of his shoulder and following the length of his arm until you’re once again holding his hand.

“Well, as you know… I got a whole lot stronger that day.”

He nods, smiling as he recalls the events of that day in his own mind.

His unusual reaction to the memory draws a question out of you.

“What was it about that day that’s got you smiling, huh?”

Your tone is teasing, but the question is genuine.

His answer is immediate.

“You saved me.”

Oh.

“Why wouldn’t I smile at the memory of that?”

You quickly shift yourself forward a bit on the bed, and hold your arms out in an obvious request for a hug. He happily leans in, allowing you to wrap your arms around his torso and bury your face in his neck. Your voice is muffled by the fabric of his robe when you speak, but he hears you all the same.

“And I’d do it again. You know that, right?”

You feel him nod against you, as well as the vibrations that emit from him as he hums an affirmative against your shoulder.

“As many times as it takes. I’ll do it again.”

He pulls you closer, holding you a bit tighter as he breathes his response.

“I would too.”

After a long moment just spent holding him, you pull back, still needing to finish your explanation. You stay close to him though, and lace the fingers of your hands together as you speak.

“Well, I think you gave me more than just your heart that day. I think along with it, I also gained your regenerative abilities, and as a byproduct of that- your black blood.”

He lets out a little contemplative “huh” as his mind connects the dots you laid out before him, and he smiles again.

“That’s a good thing, then, isn’t it? I mean, it’ll just help keep you safer if anything… bad… happens to you in the future!”

His ever-positive outlook shines through in his response, and for once, you fully agree with him. This is a good thing.

“You’re right! I think this is really good. Although, hopefully I won’t have to actually fall back on it, but it’s a good thing to have. I mean… it’s not like I plan on either of us running out into the face of danger any time soon. I think we’ve had about enough unfortunate confrontations for a while, don’t you?”

He nods emphatically, his smile fading to a small frown as he sighs, recalling everything the two of you have been through together.

“I agree, doll. All I’ve wanted to do is go home with you from the first time I met you, and now that we’re finally here… I don’t really want to leave.”

He follows his words with a hint of embarrassed laughter, as if there’s anything else you’d rather be doing either.

“Matthew, you know I’d happily lay in this bed with you until the sun burns out.”

He fixes you with a strange, worried look.

“When’s that gonna happen?”

It takes everything you’ve got not to laugh at the sincere worry in his voice. You try to keep a straight face when you answer him, and you feel yourself failing. So instead, you lean forward, planting your forehead into the soft cloth covering his chest in the way a cat headbutts their owner in a show of affection.

“Oh, you sweet thing. Don’t you worry about it, I was just joking.”

If the two of you somehow manage to still be alive when that star eventually dies… well, you’ll just have to burn that bridge when you get to it.

He seems satisfied with your answer, and brings a hand up to cradle the back of your head as you lean into him.

As you sit there for a moment, breathing in the scent of his soap mixed with the detergent you washed his robe in, your mind wanders to yet another unanswered question.

Pulling back, you look up into his eyes as you tell him.

“I still don’t know what your blood tastes like.”

He huffs a small laugh.

“I mean… like I said, doll, I can’t really describe it.”

He thinks for a moment, continuing.

“Besides, I really don’t think it’s as good as yours. Yours is… sweeter, I guess.”

Well now you’re more curious than ever.

“Well I think mine tastes kinda bitter, so… maybe it’s a thing where you like mine better but I prefer yours?”

He hums as he mulls the suggestion over, shrugging.

“Maybe!”

You nearly shove your face back into his chest at the realization that he isn’t gonna get the hint if you keep approaching it like this. You love him to death, but this fool couldn’t catch a hint if it hit him in the hands.

“Do you… think there’s any way that… maybe… I could taste yours sometime?”

You give him your best puppy-dog eyes, pushing aside the embarrassment you feel for requesting something so… intimate… from him.

You watch the realization dawn on his features, and you await his answer with baited breath.

“Oh! You really want to taste mine?”

You nod your head eagerly, giving him a small, shy smile.

“Well, I mean- of course you can! You can have some right now if you want it!”

You watch him lean back from you a bit, re-rolling his sleeve from where it’d fallen back down to cover his arm. You try to not be shocked at his eagerness and willingness to give you what you request. He’d probably cut off his whole arm and give it to you if you asked him for it. Especially if he thought it’d do anything to make up for the whole finger-removal scenario.

His willingness is a gift, and you swear to yourself that you’ll never abuse it.

You watch him reach over to where he’d placed the blade, noticeably out of your reach, and as he picks it up you suddenly remember your manners.

“T-thank you, Matt. You don’t have to do this for me.”

He smiles at you fondly.

“No need to thank me, doll. I’m more than happy to satisfy my poppet’s curiosity.”

He continues talking as he brings the blade to his wrist.

“Besides, I’m a bit curious myself…”

He quickly makes a small, shallow cut, mirroring the way you made yours, and you watch the blood rise to the surface of his skin. He places the blade aside once again, and immediately reaches out a finger, dipping it in his blood and offering it up towards your waiting lips.

Now that the shoe’s on the other foot, you fully understand why he turned red as a tomato when you did this for him.

It’s terribly intimate.

Taking the tip of his finger between your lips, your eyes close and you lose all focus as the taste of him hits your tongue.

This is genuinely the best thing you’ve ever tasted in your entire life. Holy shit. If yours tasted anything close to this good to him, then you need to applaud his restraint, because good god do you wanna latch onto his arm and drain him dry.

You refrain though, allowing him to take his hand back. When you open your eyes again, he’s eyeing you with hesitance.

“Is it okay? I mean- like I said- I don’t think it’s nearly as good as yours-”

You accidentally cut him off in your eagerness to assure him that it’s incredible.

“Are you joking? You taste amazing, Matt!”

That familiar heat rises to his cheeks as you unabashedly compliment him.

“Way better than mine, honestly.”

His response sounds unconvinced.

“Really?”

You reach out a hand towards the half-healed cut on his wrist, asking him the same silent question that he asked you. He nods, and you swipe two fingers through the remaining blood, bringing it to your lips and savoring the saccharine taste of him.

After another brief moment of losing yourself in the experience, you bring your attention back to Matt. You catch the way he must have been staring at you the whole time, and you give him a warm smile, leaning forward once more to ghost a kiss across the warm skin of his left cheek.

“Thank you.”

He flushes even darker than he already was at your combined proximity and display of affection, and he stutters out a blissed-out, lovestruck response.

“O-of course, doll. Any- ahaha… anytime…”

Your own smile can’t help but grow as you admire him, with his half-lidded gaze locked on your lips. You’d almost go so far as to venture a guess that the act of consuming each other’s blood imparts a slight sedative effect, given the way you feel and the way he looks.

Glancing back down to his wrist, you watch the cut finish closing up, now fully replaced with another little black line. With any lingering hesitancy having flown out the window by now, you bend down, placing a tiny little kiss over the freshly-healed cut. You revel in the way you hear his breath hitch as you do so.

Looking back towards Matt, you blink sleepily up at him.

“You ready for bed, love?”

He subtly nods in enraptured agreement, and the both of you move to rearrange yourselves on the bed. You settle into your respective positions, with you on his left and him on your right.

Draping the sheets over both of your bodies, you pull him close to you, and breathe deep as you feel him fully relax in your arms. You gently rest your head on his chest, and reach down, searching for his hand to hold. Tangling your bodies together, you begin to take notice of the quiet beat of your hearts, gradually falling into sync with one another.

As your eyes close, you feel his lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead, followed by his soft voice, whispering quietly into the night.

“G’night, poppet. I love you.”

You smile in your half-asleep state, mumbling your response as you softly squeeze his hand.

“Love you more, Matt.”

A/N: If you'd like to read my thoughts in regards to the process of writing this fic, as well as the musical inspiration behind it, you can find all of that over here, in the end-notes on Ao3! Header Image Sources: x - x - x Lastly, of course, here's the link to The Malenkee Saga, and here's a link to Matt's videos if you're just looking for him.

[kenzie30david]

Little Reyes

Pairing: Bishop x Reader

Summary: You’ve started hanging with Angel and his crew more meaning you’re spending more time with Bishop. 

Tonight was like any other night.  Angel picked you up and the two of you rode over to the scrap yard. You hear Angel’s motorcycle pull up outside your door so you eagerly walk and do one more check in the mirror before you walk outside. You scan your outfit noting your crimson tank top you’ve paired with a pair of black jean shorts and your combat boots. When Angel sees what you’re wearing he shakes his head. “There ain’t no way in hell Imma let you go to the scrap yard looking like that. Go back and change.” Shaking your head no you hopped onto the back of his bike and headed to the party. When you arrived at the scrap yard you looked around and see that all of the guys were there but you were only looking for one person in particular. Once you spotted him you could already see that his eyes were on you. “Damn mamita you’re looking good tonight.” You turn and see Coco staring at you. Before you could respond you hear a thud and see Bishop’s hand come in contact with the back of his head. “That is not how you talk to women dumb ass.” Coco huffs as the rest of you burst out laughing. You slowly walk toward Bishop you see a glimmer in his eyes. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. Although I could have handled his drunk ass.” Your response causes a chuckle to fall from Bishop’s lips. “I know hermosa, but this gave me an excuse to come talk to you. And tell you that you look very beautiful tonight.” You see him eye you up and down biting his lip, “Damn mami, why you gotta do this to me?” Confused by his actions and words, you tilt your head to the side, unsure what to make of his comment. Without saying a word Bishop takes your hand and leads you to Templo. You felt special because you knew this is off off-limits to most, except the MC, or those who did be there. He lets you enter first before shutting the door and turning to face you. “Obispo?” He groans hearing you use his actual name. He just slowly starts walking towards you. “Why are you walking over here like that?” you asked your voice almost a whisper as your heart rate got hella fast. “Because if I ran youd leave.” His voice was low but almost sincere. When he was face to face with you one of his hands landed on your waist his grip secure as the other brushed some hair behind your ear. “Look Y/N, I know that you’re Angel and EZs sister and you’re basically off limits. But I can’t do this anymore.” He sighed almost defeated. “Do what?” “Pretend that my heart doesn’t start to race when you enter a room, or that I smile whenever I hear you laugh. That when you say my name it’s like all of the air is taken from my lungs.” You’re left speechless as you stand there facing the man that you’ve grown to love. After your silence Bishop takes a step back turning to leave, before he can you grab his hand and pull him towards you. More confident than you have ever been, you stand on your tip toes and press your lips against his. The two of you just stand there unsure of how to proceed. After a minute Bishop presses you back so you are now seated on the table, he takes his stop between your legs. With a little support, you wrap your legs around him wanting to be as close to him as you can while still not letting go of the kiss. The two of you are so caught up in what’s happening that you don’t hear the door open. “What the actual fuck?” You and Bishop quickly pull away from each other and turn to see where the voice came from. When you turned you see a pissed Angel and a confused EZ. Angel starts to walk towards the two of you causing Bishop to step in front of you protectively. “Serious;y Y/N, the prez?” Bishop scoffs but before he can respond you step in front of him. “Actually, yes. This man has treated me better than anyone ever has. He’s taken care of me. He makes me feel seen and like someone actually cares about me. I don’t think I could have seen myself with him because he is El Presidente and I knew you would flip your shit. But I don’t give two fucks,. I love him and there’s nothing that you can do about it.” Everyone goes quiet hearing you confess your feelings for their Prez. You turn to look at Bishop, his eyes wide in shock. “Querida, you love me?” Nodding your head you walk closer to him. “Yes mi amor, te amo con todo me corazon.” You kiss him gently hearing the guys gag. “Alright you two, get a fucking room. Just because y’all are together doesn’t mean the rest of us should have to see it. “Love you too Angel” you shouted as everyone left you and Bishop alone in Templo. “SO querida I have to tell you something.” Bishop looks at you very seriously. “Yes?” Leaning in so his lips are close to your ears “I love you too” Smiling wide y/n jumps into his arms giggling like a little kid on Christmas. 

[findmeinasunshower]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 3: 𝑫𝒊𝒏 𝑫𝒋𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏

word-count: 1.6k

summary: Din Djarin x senator!Reader. this is purely fluff.

warnings: small mentions of past injury. 

Part 1   ~    Part 2

You’re pulled into consciousness the next morning by the feel of Din’s warm arms wrapped around you. His breath ghosts over your ear in soft puffs with his every breath and a feeling of safety washes over you at the sensation. You’ve never shared a bed with anyone before — it’s a testament to the love and trust you hold for Din that you don’t wake up in a panic.

As if sensing you awaken, Din’s arms tighten around you and he presses a kiss to the shell of your ear. “Good morning, senator.”

You smack his arm where it’s banded across your stomach. “Rude.”

“Mm, sorry.” Din presses closer until you can feel the unarmored breadth of him flatten against your back. He breathes in your ear: “Good morning, orar.” You shudder as he presses another kiss to your ear, then to your jaw below it.

You curl your fingers around his forearm in an attempt to ground yourself, but can’t stop yourself from arching back into his touch. “How’s your neck?” you manage to gasp out.

“No pain,” he breathes between the kisses he lays down your neck. “Thank you.”

You flip over so you’re facing him, and are immediately filled with a bubbling glee to see Din’s face again. “Well, I am a pretty good nurse,” you tease and flick the edge of the bacta patch on his neck with your finger. Din smiles down at you, crooked yet sincere, and reaches out to interlace your fingers with his. You snuggle closer, lips turning up at the state of his hair, looking like a bird’s nest after a good night’s sleep.

After making sure Din wasn’t going to bleed out in the hull, you dragged yourself up to the cockpit and plotted the journey back to Coruscant. You then forced the Mandalorian into a well-deserved fifteen minutes in the refresher before the two of you collapsed into bed in the captain’s quarters.

Now, feeling much more alive than you did twelve hours ago, you reach out and begin to reorder his hair with his hands. Din sits still and allows you to separate the soft curls with your fingers before letting them fall back into place...and after everything you’ve been through with him, this moment, laying in bed with him while he watches you fix his bedhead, feels much more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced before.

“I knew you were handsome,” you whisper. “But I didn’t realize just how much.” You watch with pleasure as Din’s cheeks flush at the comment. “A blushing Mandalorian?” you tease. “I’m pretty sure that’s against your Creed.”

“Not with my riduur, it isn’t,” Din rumbles, and your heart warms at the title. “Besides, it’s not something I usually have to worry about.”

“You’re not used to someone seeing you,” you say. “What other kind of faces do you make?”

Din raises his eyebrows he thinks, and you smile and file away the fact that he has smile lines away for later. “I...bite my lip a lot when I think.”

You laugh and cuddle closer to him, pressing your forehead against his. “Show me.” Din scowls even as he goes to comply, but you lean in and catch his lips with yours before he can close his mouth. You kiss him lazily and he responds in turn, no intention behind where you’re going beyond simply enjoying each other’s company. By the time Din pulls away to rest his chin on the top of your head, you’ve committed the feel and taste of him to memory.

He’s shaking slightly in your arms when you tug him closer, and you press a kiss to his collarbone in thanks for the vulnerability he’s shown you in the past twenty-four hours. For the gift he decided to bestow upon you.

You bury your nose into the front of his tunic and inhale deeply, relaxing at the familiar smell of your detergent and, most distinctly, of Din. Of musk and machine oil, and the taste of copper on your tongue that always coincides with safety.

And just like that, you drift back to sleep.

~*~

You take your time getting back to Coruscant — it’s a full three days before you drop out of hyperspace on approach of the planet’s atmosphere.

You look at Din the second the stars stop warping around you and ask: “How do I look?”

He takes a moment to finish toggling a few dials in preparation for landing before looking at you. Even through the helmet, you can feel the slow drag of his eyes from the top of your head to your toes and back again. He takes his time looking over the traditional robes of your planet, the hint of makeup to cover your split lip, and the carefully done updo you styled in the refresher this morning.

“Beautiful, as always,” is what he settles on before turning his visor back to the incoming planet. A part of you mourns the loss of his natural voice, but hearing a compliment come through Din’s familiar modulator still makes you shift delightedly. “I don’t know why you ask,” he continues.

The first thing you say when you see the planet’s surface approaching is: “Leia’s going to kill me.”

“Not if you show up with me. I’m very intimidating.”

He looks at you when you reach over to pat his beskar chest fondly. “Yes, you are. But you’re cute if you think Leia is intimidated by anything.”

Although you can’t see it, Din blinks once before sighing and turning back to the controls. “Point taken.”

You were right: The second the ship’s ramp is low enough for Senator Leia Organa to step up on, she’s stalking up to you with a look of righteous fury and barely-concealed fear on her face. Din steps aside so your friend can storm into your space, and you shoot him a look of betrayal. He shrugs. Leia grasps your shoulders and looks over you with shrewd brown eyes too quick to catch on the hastily-covered gash below your lip. Her eyes widen at the sight, and you stumble a little when she pulls you into a tight embrace.

You reach up and pat her immaculate braids reassuringly. “I’m okay.”

“Liar.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“She is.”

You and Leia pull apart when Din chimes into the conversation, and he shifts his feet under both of your stares. “Senator (l/n) was very brave and managed to escape her attackers multiple times before I got there. The split lip is from where she collided with my armor when I stopped too quickly.”

Leia straightens her spine and nods. “And you, Mandalorian? Are you alright?”

Din dips his head in a nod. “Nothing I can’t survive in order to keep the Senator safe.”

You fight the blush that wants to come up at the double meaning in his words but manage to school your face back into neutrality when Leia looks back at you. “Thank you very much, Mandalorian. You’ve lived up to my brother’s words well.” Din nods once again. Leia looks back at you and takes your hand. “Now, it’s about time you—”

“—If you don’t mind, Senator Organa, I’d like a moment with Senator (l/n),” Din interrupts, nodding his head toward you.

Leia blinks. “Of course.” She shoots you a suspicious look before letting go of your hands. “I’ll meet you at the speeders, okay?” You nod and squeeze her fingers once more before watching her glide back down the ramp, much more graceful now than she was on her approach.

Din turns away the second Leia’s feet touch the landing pad, and you’re quick to follow after him. He’s silent as he leads you out of the hull and past the cockpit before turning the corner into the captain’s quarters.

You frown and follow him into the small room. “What—” You’re cut off when Din suddenly yanks off his helmet and pulls you in for a deep, deep kiss. He traps you back against the refresher door and kisses the air out of your lungs until your legs are so weak the only reason you’re still standing is because of your tight grip around his neck. Your Mandalorian has definitely learned a lot in the last few days, and you hum in satisfaction when you realize he’s making sure that you won’t forget the feel of him. The taste of him.

All you can do is hold on.

After not long enough, but too long not to be suspicious, Din pulls away. You cling to his broad shoulders as you catch your breath, reveling in the feel of the warm air between your two faces. Din licks his lips and gives you one last heated look before extracting himself from your arms and putting his helmet back on.

You find yourself trying to remember how to breathe.

You just manage to find your feet again when Din presses a small cloth bag into your hand, and you realize it’s the dirty clothes you’d been kidnapped in—his excuse for wanting a word with you. He dips his helmet to rest against your forehead once more before promising: “I’ll see you tonight for evening check.”

You nod, and you swear you can feel electricity spark from where his cool helmet touched your skin. “See you tonight,” you repeat.

You do not look back as he opens the door and walks with you off of the ship, handing the bag to one of your assistants before making sure you’re safe with Leia in the back of the covered speeder. Your friend gives him a knowing look just before the speeder pulls away, and Din finds himself swallowing down the intimidation.

That night, he doesn’t emerge from your quarters after evening check.