#it just. feels rather empty. but your light gives me warmth

[notlongtolove]

like a lover

he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t even look at you again. he just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. by the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: hurt comfort

content: student!reader gets drunk after a brutal final and spencer is beyond mad. very brief mention of abduction. lowkey spencer is in the right bc #safety but he made reader cry n for that he is found #guilty!!!

word count: 3.1k

note: based off this ask! random fact the last line of this fic was the inspiration for empty my soul but idk why i just couldnt fit it in there, anyways i hope you guys like it! (pls tell me if u do i was struggling with a resolution for this)

a line: Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again.

I give you an onion. It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. It promises light like the careful undressing of love. Here. It will blind you with tears like a lover. It will make your reflection a wobbling photo of grief. I am trying to be truthful. - carol ann duffy

You probably should’ve stopped five drinks ago—maybe four if you were feeling merciful. That last Vodka cran? A spectacularly bad idea. But whatever. You earned this. You’re young, you’re fun, you look good, and for the first time in weeks, you have no deadlines clawing at you. The final had been a nightmare. You knew your fate was sealed the second you flipped to question three. What the hell is textual and symbolic environmentalisation? But it’s over now. That’s all that matters.

The wind bites at your bare legs as you stand by the curb, aimlessly kicking a pebble. You hug your arms close, fighting off the chill. Maybe you should’ve brought a jacket. Spencer had suggested it, but you’d waved him off. He’s usually right.

You frown, glancing up at the street sign. He said he’d be here. Right? Your phone’s dying battery blinks at you in its final moments, mocking you before shutting off completely. Definitely should’ve taken his offer of a portable charger, too. You sigh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

A man stumbles by, reeking of booze. You don’t need to look to know.

"Hey," he calls out, voice slurred and gravelly.

You keep your eyes down, pretending not to hear.

“Hey,” he says again, louder this time.

Where the hell is Spencer?

"D’you know when the bus starts running again?"

You hesitate, half-relieved that he’s asking something semi-coherent. "I—I’m sorry, I’m not sure."

He nods to himself, swaying on his feet. 

"I told you to wait by the bodega on 3rd," a familiar voice mutters. Spencer’s hand closes around your arm, already steering you away.

"Oh, hey," you say softly, relief washing over you. "Is this not—" You glance at the street sign overhead—4 Maple Drive. Shit. "I—sorry, I thought—"

"It’s fine," he says, but the sharp edge in his voice tells you it’s not.

The car ride is suffocatingly silent. When he pulls open the passenger door for you, there’s no trace of his usual warmth. No soft smile, no gentle tease about your perpetually dead phone. Just a click of the door and the quiet thud of it shutting behind you.

You hate this. Hate the tension humming between you, the way his jaw is set tight as he drives. He was so different this afternoon, greeting you after your final with those cupcakes he knows you love from the bakery on the other side of town, his lips brushing yours in endless, giddy kisses. This Spencer is nothing like that. 

"They played ‘Dancing Queen’ tonight," you venture, voice tentative. He knows it’s your favourite. Knows it always pulls you to the dance floor, no matter how tired or tipsy you are. "It was so funny—some guy bought us a round of shots—"

"And you drank it?"

The question lands heavy. His first words to you since he’d started driving. 

"Well... yeah?"

"What else did you drink?"

"Not a lot," you say quickly, tripping over your words. "Just vodka, tequila, a bit of wine—"

"You mixed?" 

The way he says it makes you bristle. There’s a hint of disbelief, maybe even disappointment. 

"Spence," you say softly. "I’m not that drunk, I promise."

Nothing.

His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. The silence in the air is almost tangible, a crackling, oppressive thing. When he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine, he doesn’t move to open your door. He always does that. But not tonight. 

You’re pretty sure he’s mad at you, though you’re not entirely sure why. It’s not like you go out that often, and you can’t even remember the last time you let yourself get this drunk. Tonight was an exception, a celebration. He understands, doesn’t he?

You follow him inside, trailing behind like a shadow. He doesn’t head to the kitchen like he does after you get back from a night out—no tea, no toast, no quiet ritual of making sure you’re okay. Instead, he walks straight into the study, his back to you. Yeah, he’s definitely mad. 

"You’re mad at me," you say, standing in the doorway.

He doesn’t answer. His hands grip the back of his chair, his head bowed like he’s trying to gather himself. You’re not one to push, usually giving him the space he needs when he gets all broody like this, but the alcohol that’s running through your system is making it hard to practice patience. 

"Why are you mad at me?"

Still nothing. 

When he finally moves, it’s only to brush past you, heading for the bedroom without so much as a glance. "We’ll talk about this tomorrow," he says, his tone flat, clipped. "I can’t talk to you when you’re like this."

This. The word hits like a slap, sharp and dismissive. It irks you. 

"If you didn’t want to come, then you shouldn’t have come," you mutter under your breath, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "I could’ve gotten a ride—"

"You were slurring on the phone." He stops in the hallway, turning just enough for you to see the tight set of his jaw. 

"Yeah, no shit, Spencer. People slur when they drink," you fire back a little too harshly, the alcohol fueling your irritation as you cross your arms defensively.

"Don’t," he warns, his voice low, dangerous in a way that makes your chest tighten.

​​You glare at him, heat rising in your cheeks. "Don’t what? Don’t point out how ridiculous you’re being right now?"

He doesn���t answer. He doesn’t even look at you again. He just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. By the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. Fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

You head to the bathroom without a word, your movements jerky as you swipe at the remnants of your makeup. You grab your moisturizer, fingers fumbling with the cap. A sharp tug and it goes flying out of your hands, clattering to the floor. 

"Fuck," you mutter, bracing yourself for a bout of instability as you bend down to retrieve it.

Before you can grab it, Spencer moves. He scoops it up, straightening with an ease that feels almost mocking. When you meet his eyes, they’re unfamiliar. It’s not the Spencer you know. Not the Spencer who covers your eyes during scary movies or kisses your forehead when you’re half-asleep. No, this Spencer feels distant, cold. 

"And I’m supposed to believe you’re not that drunk," he says flatly. Your chest tightens, a lump forming in your throat as heat flushes your face. He offers a hand as you steady yourself, trying to rise to your feet, but you brush him off, snatching the bottle from his grip with a bitterness you don’t try to mask. 

"What the hell is your problem?" you snap.

"My problem?" he repeats, incredulous. "I’m not the one blackout drunk on a Wednesday night."

"I’m not—"

"Would you—would you just stop!" he barks, the words sharp enough to make you flinch. "You’re slurring your words. You got the streets wrong. You couldn’t even get the damn moisturizer open," he snaps, gesturing toward you harshly with a mixture of frustration and exasperation.

Your knuckles whiten as you cling to the edge of the sink, unsure if you’re holding on for balance or just to keep from breaking. You spin back toward the mirror willing yourself not to cry. The frustration, the confusion, the ache in your chest—everything wells up at once.

"God, you’re being so—"

"So what?" he interrupts, his voice rising as he steps closer. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to say it. "So concerned? So worried? So—"

"So fucking mean!"

The silence that follows deafening. For a moment, he freezes, the hard edges of his expression softening into something else—shock, regret, guilt—but it’s fleeting.

"So what if I’m drunk?" Your voice cracks as the words tumble out, your frustration too overwhelming to contain. "And yeah, maybe—" You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat as you glare at him, "Maybe I’m slurring a little but forgive me for wanting a drink after the final I’ve been stressing over all fucking month."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration barely contained. "It’s not about you having a drink. It’s about you not knowing your limits—"

"Oh, for fucks sake," you interrupt, throwing your hands up. The movement makes you sway slightly, and you hate how it only seems to prove his point. "Newsflash, Spencer, I’m a university student. Sometimes we get drunk. You don’t get to make me feel like shit just because you don’t drink.”

You push past him, your shoulder grazing his as you move to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, and you grip the edge, willing the room to stop spinning.

"You were being reckless," he bites back, the word hanging heavy in the air. "You don’t see what I see. You’re out alone, you don’t—"

"I wasn’t alone," you say, your voice rising to meet his. "I had friends—"

"Yeah, friends who left you alone on a curb at 3am," he shoots back, cutting you off. The words land with precision, a calculated jab, but you refuse to flinch.

"Because you said you were on the way!" you fire back.

His voice is cold now, practically seething. "And what do you think would’ve happened if I hadn’t reached you just as that guy was coming on to you?"

"He was asking for the bus!" you shoot back, the words ringing out louder than you intended. You hate everything about this fight. You hate how unfamiliar he feels, hate the part of you that wonders if you’re the one who brought this out of him. "Nothing would’ve—"

Spencer’s expression darkens, his gaze narrowing. "Nothing?" He scoffs. "Tell that to Nina Radha. To Caroline Wrenley. To Mindy Denver. They were all ‘just waiting for a ride home’ last week. And now? All abducted. All dead." 

The room goes silent. Your chest tightens, and the fight drains out of you as his meaning sinks in. 

"You’re being cruel," your words are barely audible, trembling on the edge of your lips. The tears come faster now, streaking your face, but you don’t bother wiping them away. "Why—" you whisper, weak and watery, "Why are you being like this?" 

When Spencer finally turns to look at you, the sight of your tears stops him cold. They streak your face in uneven paths, and he feels something inside him splinter. Spencer never likes seeing you cry—he hates it, actually. It’s not just discomfort or unease; it’s a literal, physical ache. But knowing he’s the reason for your tears tonight? That’s pain in its most visceral form. It’s failure in its purest state.

"I—" he starts, his voice faltering. It cracks mid-sentence, and he stops, swallowing hard. His breath shudders as he exhales, trying to find the words, but all that comes out is a quiet, broken, "I was scared." 

Your tears have momentarily slowed, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. The anger in his voice has faded, replaced by something softer, something raw—fear, tangled with guilt, with regret. He takes a tentative step closer, then hesitates, unsure of what to do. 

"I thought that… something could’ve happened to you, and I—I didn’t know how to handle it." 

After a moment, he lowers himself to your level, crouching in front of you. He lifts his hand, reaching out to wipe away the tears that stain your face. But the instant his fingers near you, you flinch, turning your head to avoid his touch. The movement is small, but Spencer’s heart shatters at the rejection all the same. He hates that he’s made you cry, hates that you won’t let him near you, hates that you won’t even look at him.

"I’m sorry," he says, the words low and weighted with sincerity. He knows it’s not enough, but it’s all he has left to give. 

Your tears fall, dripping onto your hands that rest limply in your lap. You shake your head, your shoulders tense, refusing to meet his eyes. The rejection stings, sharper than he expected, but he doesn’t blame you. He knows he deserves this. The room is still except for the sound of your quiet sniffles. 

Spencer tries again, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "I just—" His breath catches as he exhales, his hand running through his hair in agitation, the movement more to calm himself than anything else. "When I saw you standing there alone—alone and with that man, I got scared. And I lashed out. I shouldn’t have. You didn’t— you didn’t deserve that."

The silence that follows is thick, but finally, you break it. Your voice is quiet, bitter. 

"I’m not them."

You’re still not meeting his eyes, still keeping that distance, but at least it’s something. 

"Those girls… I’m not them, Spencer."

"I know, I know. I was—", his voice is low, the regret weighing heavily on every syllable.

​​"That case was tough on you, I know it was," you interrupt, "And what happened to those girls, it was horrible. But I'm not them, Spence. I'm not…" Spencer watches helplessly as you furiously wipe away a tear from your cheek. 

"I'm not dead. I'm here."

“I was projecting, I—” His voice catches, “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” he admits quietly. You nod, grimly. Another single, heavy tear slips down your cheek and Spencer feels his heart break all over again. 

"I know you’re scared. How do you think I feel every time you go out into the field?" You take a deep breath, and say bitterly, "I get it." 

Each word is a struggle, but you say it with conviction. He can see how much you’re holding in, the effort it takes for you to keep your voice from cracking. 

You pause, swallowing hard as you steady yourself, "But you—You don’t get to talk to me like that." When your eyes meet his, they flash with both anger and sadness. "You don’t get to take that out on me." 

"I know, I—That was—I was being horrible, I was an ass," Spencer admits, his voice small. "You didn’t deserve that, honey. God, I’m just—I’m so, so, sorry." 

You look at him for a long moment, searching for any sign that he’s being sincere. All you see is regret, raw and heavy. And something else, something softer. Love. He reaches out, and this time you don’t pull away. Just getting to touch you is a brief, bittersweet, blinding relief. Spencer lets his fingers graze your cheek as he wipes away your tears gently, his thumb brushing over the wet path they’ve left behind. 

A soft, almost bitter laugh escapes you. "An ass is putting it lightly." 

Spencer’s chest tightens, a small breath of relief escaping him, though it’s quickly replaced with guilt. "M’so sorry sweetheart," he breathes out, comforted by the familiar bite in your tone. It lightens the air between you, just a little.

He shifts to sit next to you on the bed. "I didn’t—I really didn’t mean to," he says quietly. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh, the fight slowly draining out of you. Spencer gently takes your hands, cradling them in his. 

"I—I never want to hurt you, never want to make you cry. Ever." Spencer's voice cracks slightly as he talks, fingers tracing your palm. "You know that, right?"

You nod, your voice small but steady. "I know."

Shifting, you tuck your legs beneath you, turning to face him fully. Your hands lift to cup his face gently, your thumbs brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. The touch is tender, almost protective, as you guide his face to meet yours. His eyes can’t hold your gaze for long, shame clearly written across them.

"I was just—I was—" He stumbles over his words.

"Scared," you finish softly, filling the silence for him. 

"I—I’m sorry," Spencer’s voice falters, "I’m really sorry honey, I should’ve never—That was—"

Your hands guide his face back toward yours, coaxing him to meet your eyes. This time, he doesn’t resist, his breath shaky as he clings to the comfort you offer. "S’okay, baby. M’not mad anymore," you murmur.

"Sad?" he asks, his voice barely audible, like he’s afraid of what you’ll say.

"No," you smile faintly, shaking your head, "Not sad, baby," you whisper, leaning closer. Your thumb traces the curve of his cheek in silent reassurance. His shoulders relax just a little. "I just—" you sigh as you let out one last, quiet sniffle, "I really hate fighting." 

Carefully, he coaxes you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you. "Me too, honey," he says, his voice thick with emotion as he shifts closer. You don’t resist, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck, your breath warm against his skin.

"S’not nice," you murmur against him, your words muffled.

"I know, I know," Spencer whispers, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles along your back. You let out a shaky sigh, sinking further into his embrace. “Was awful, wasn’t it?” he says, quietly.

"Mhm," you mumble quietly, your voice soft but pointed as you lean into his touch. "Made me cry," you say, looking at him through wet lashes to prove your point. Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again. After a beat of quiet, he tilts his head just enough to press a soft kiss to your temple. 

"I love you, you know that?" 

You hum softly, nuzzling your face into his neck with a contented sigh, "Love you too."

"Love you so much, sweet girl," he says again, quieter this time, like it’s a truth meant only for you.

"Sap," you tease, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze, the faintest hint of a smile on your lips.

Spencer grins, soft and boyish. "Always for you," he mumbles fondly, and before you can respond, he leans forward, pressing a playful kiss to the tip of your nose.

You stick your tongue out at him in mock protest, but he’s already chasing the moment. A kiss lands on your cheek. Then another on the other side. Each one dripping with easy affection. 

"Spence—" you laugh, the sound bubbling up. It spreads a warmth through Spencer’s chest. 

"My sweet girl," he says quietly, almost to himself. 

His smile only grows as he drinks in the sound of your giggles, tears long gone. He presses a fluttering series of kisses across your form until you’re laughing into his lips, each kiss softer than the last. 

One on your cheek, two on your shoulder, a thousand on your lips.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: false god by taylor swift moon river by frank ocean

[bunsiesblog]

Viktor Relationship HC

Viktor x GN!Reader

Purely self indulgent headcanons for Viktor in a relationship. You want fluff? Here is fluff.

tags: s1!viktor, established relationship, typical domesticity and fluff

➽───────────────❥

Viktor prefers subtle displays of affection. His intimacy is quiet—a hushed whispered shared between the two of you.

Very public and grand displays of affection tend to leave him embarrassed and flustered. This doesn’t mean he shies away from showing the world he is yours. But he prefers those intimate acts to be shared between the two of you.

That being said—he is a man in love. And he simply can’t help himself when you are near. So he has found a few ways to express his devotion to you:

A gentle bump of the knee under the table as you both sit together.

Interlocked pinkies. A touch so small it might have been missed if not for the faint smile pulling at his lips.

A hidden hand resting on your thigh while he reads or works—absentmindedly tracing circles with his thumb.

A tender touch to the small of your back as he guides you through crowds. Not only to keep you close but to keep him grounded as well.

Quick kiss to your forehead when parting ways. “Take care, lásko.”

Viktor adores holding your hands. Such an innocent and simple act leaves him feeling profoundly connected to you.

He often does it absentmindedly—reaching for your hand when his mind is elsewhere. His thumb traces your knuckles or the faint lines of your palm. He’ll even play with your fingers, as though committing their shape to memory.

Our lovely scientist quite likes the size difference between your two hands. He’ll press his palm flat against yours, marveling at the contrast with a soft smile on his face. “It’s quite unfair that I am so lanky, no?”

When privacy is reliably assured, Viktor rather enjoys spoiling you with affection and being spoiled in return. Here are some favorites of his in no particular order:

Kissing. And not the kind that is full of tongue and saliva (although he can acknowledge certain … situations … where it has its benefit.) He prefers the soft and revert kisses he gives you. The sort of kiss where he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs brushing along your cheeks, and simply embraces you. Like he’d rather be at your lips all day than breathe air.

Viktor also has a pension for kissing you in places that are not just your lips. His kisses are gentle, playful, and unexpectedly intimate. Some of his favorite places to leave them on you are the inside of your wrist, the curve of your shoulder, the slope of your neck, and the tip of your nose.

He particularly enjoys the way you laugh or squirm when he traces light kisses to your neck and jawline. Viktor will hold your hands to keep you from wiggling away. Despite being quiet by nature, Viktor’s smirk betrays how much he enjoys hearing you laugh. “You want me to stop? But you make such sweet sounds for me, Koťátko. Just one more.”

A quiet night in the lab made him realize just how much he enjoys seeking your warmth and filling in the empty spaces between you. When you’re perched at the edge of his work table, Viktor will instinctively step between your legs and rest his hand on your thighs as he looks up at you. It’s any wonder how he gets any sort of work done when you’re around.

To others, he is a polite but distant man. Constantly consumed by his work and ambition. But with you, he is something else entirely: gentle, tender, and devoted. And it is clear to anyone who knows him just how special you are.

Viktor always gives you his unwavering attention. When you speak, he listens. His whiskey eyes are held steady to your own. Oftentimes, when he thinks you won’t notice, they’ll flick down to your lips. And he’ll rub a thoughtful hand over his jaw, trying his best to hide an amused smile. “Hm? Yes, I’m listening, sweetheart.”

His reserved nature doesn’t lend itself to overt sentimentality. But with you? It shines. There is a tenderness in him that only you can bring out.

Viktor has a weathered notebook he keeps in his coat pocket for when inspiration strikes or he simply can’t put his pen down. However, among the haphazard grocery lists or scribbled equation are notes about you like ‘prefers chamomile tea when anxious’ or ‘smiles when it rains’. Even the margins of his notes are decorated with absentminded doodles of you.

He most definitely is an act of service kind of man. The chain of your necklace is broken? Or your watch won’t tick past 6:33? He’ll silently take it off your hands, fiddle with the repair in the quiet hours of his lab, and leave it for you to be found the next day. Any sort of thanks you try to give him are met with a humble “it was nothing.” Although the blush on his ears tell a different story.

[dollfacefantasy]

End of the Night

pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x reader

summary: leon comes home late from a job. he finds comfort in his pregnant wife who's fast asleep.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, somnophilia, pregnancy, mentions of blood and violence and typical crime stuff

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey besties. here you go. hope everyone enjoys. if you're interested, check out my ko-fi. i appreciate the support you all give me oh so much. mwah <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld

Another late night. The car rumbles as it pulls into the driveway. He shuts it off and sits there for a moment, taking in the quiet of the neighborhood street. Moonlight illuminates his bruised knuckles and bloody sleeves. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, the skin beneath the dried crimson liquid turns white. A deep sigh seeps out of his lungs. 

He runs a hand through his dusty brown hair and looks in the rear view mirror, seeing his tired eyes looking back at him. He’d been meaning to get it cut, but he’d been busy as of late.

“It’s getting shaggy,” you’d tease him while scratching his scalp with your manicured nails. Then you’d lean in close and give him a big kiss on the cheek. “It looks good.”

You. His beautiful, darling wife. The greatest pride of his life. Only a few rooms apart, tucked away safe inside.

He lets out another sigh as he thinks of you, but this time it’s a breath of longing rather than exhaustion. You were why he was out here, cooling off. He’d promised himself since the day you got married those years ago, he wouldn’t let this affect you. Wouldn’t even let you get close to this side of him.

All the windows of the house are dark. He knows you’re asleep, curled up under one of the many plush blankets he’d gotten you. Face pressed into the silk pillowcase, your soft breaths drifting through the bedroom.

The mental picture brings a smile to his face instinctively. It quickly fades though as he looks down and crashes back to reality. Blood covered his suit, soaked into the fabric. He knew he’d have to just throw it away. He wouldn’t even bother asking you to wash this one.

He gets out of the car, careful to shut the door quietly. Walking up the stone path to your house, past the pristine lawn, he jams his key into the front door. The air in the house is so much warmer than the chill outside. It hits him in a rush, making his face feel numb. He slips his shoes off by the door, something you always asked him to do after one night when he had tracked remnants of some unfortunate guy all over the bedroom carpet.

Sometimes coming into the house almost made him unsettled. It was as if he still couldn’t believe it was his. That was how he felt about you too. Sure, he’d always expected to get married, but he never thought it’d be like this. Never thought he’d be happy.

He walks across the entryway and heads up the spiraling staircase, passing pictures of the two of you hung on the walls. When he reaches the bedroom, he sees exactly what he suspected. Even though he expected it, the sight of you fast asleep didn’t melt his heart any less. It filled his chest with warmth and made his head feel loopy with how much he adored you. The worst thing he could imagine was coming home and finding that bed empty. Whether you left or someone took you, he didn’t want to ever think about either. That was why he was always so careful. So that would never happen.

He pads across the room to your side of the bed and looks at your sleeping form with love in its most raw state. The kind that made him ache. He strokes your head and smooths your hair out. A light kiss lands on your forehead before he leans down and kisses your belly, swollen with his child.

More than anything on this earth, he wants to crawl into bed with you and do all that lovey dovey shit until the sun comes up. But he knew he needed to shower, not wanting to even imagine the disgust on your face if you woke up to his clothing, blotted red with blood, pressed to your skin.

He goes into the bathroom, making sure to be as close to silence as possible. He cringes when he turns the shower on, and just hopes the noise of the rushing water isn’t enough to wake you.

The next step in this little routine is taking out one of the disposable bags you now stored under the sink for nights like this. He peels off his suit and stuffs it into the plastic before dropping it in the trash. He’d take it out tomorrow.

He gives his body a once over in the mirror, looking at the stained and scarred skin before stepping into the shower. The hot water feels damn near euphoric on the taut muscles in his back. He lets out a muted groan. It sprays down on him and dampens his hair, the locks transforming from their lightened shade to a deeper brown. 

The white tile surrounding the drain turns red as the marks from work get washed away. He uses the little scrubby thing you bought him, making sure all of it is really gone. Washing his hair too, he uses some of your shampoo tonight just for your scent.

He can feel the pressure dissolving in his shoulders and the tight coils in his back beginning to unwind. He no longer feels like a live wire. The hot tension in his neck melts and rolls down his back, pooling in his belly. The heat of stress evolves into the warmth of desire.

When he’s finally done in the shower, he gets out and wraps a towel around his waist. Water droplets roll down his chest as he dries his hair. He then takes care of his other getting-ready-for-bed tasks and comes into the bedroom. He pulls on some flannel pajama pants and turns to his bed, ready to finally lay with his stunning wife and hold you till he passes out.

But when he looks over at you, that warmth that collected within him starts to bubble up into a boil. You had shifted positions, kicked the covers off so that you were much more exposed. It wasn’t unusual for you. The fact that it was freezing out now didn’t stop your body from heating up like a furnace while you slept. It started when you first fell pregnant, and while it caused you great discomfort, Leon secretly enjoyed it, infatuated with the warm, soft feeling of you against him in the night.

You were wearing a baby pink nighty he’d bought for you. It barely held your breasts which had just started to fill out more a few weeks ago. The lower part of the dress bunched up around your waist just below your bump, letting him see the matching panties you had on. He nearly drools as he imagines your lush thighs around his head, locking his face against that fabric.

God, and the final straw, your sweet, precious face. So clueless, not the slightest idea that your husband was a few feet away, leering at you. Slightly parted lips, twitching lashes, those cute round cheeks. It was too much. He had to do something even if it risked disturbing your slumber.

He had already drifted to the foot of the king-sized bed in his lustful stupor. Kneeling on the mattress, he leans forward and crawls to his target. One hand scoops up one of your legs, placing it on his shoulder. The other does the same to your second leg. It was just as he’d imagined, that familiar engulfing heat against his cheeks, around his neck.

Flat on his stomach, he brings his head in. His thumbs hook on your nightgown to slide it up a little more, resting it on the peak of your bump. His lips meet your clothed pussy in a gentle kiss. He then takes a deep breath, inhaling his favorite smell.

He trails some more kisses up the fabric to the level of your clit. The cloth gathers wet splotches from his saliva. Before removing the garment, he nuzzles your center, dragging his nose upwards against the silk.

Everything about you was soft, tender. From your voice as you spoke to the way you looked at him with love pooling in your eyes. His refuge from everything else, the blood, the betrayal, the guilt.

He loops his finger under the strip of fabric that conceals your cunt from him. After tugging them down, his eyes train on your folds. He locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer, smothering himself with you. Closing his eyes, he gets to work.

He delves his tongue between the velvety skin and licks stripes upward. His tongue draws skillful patterns on you and swirls around your clit before taking the sensitive bud between his lips to suck on it.

And there it is. You squirm ever so slightly. Your hips shift, but he keeps them pinned down in place. A small grunt leaves you and a smirk rises to his lips. So sweet, his innocent girl, never the wiser. 

In waking life, he wished he could keep you so blissfully unaware. Obviously, you weren’t privy to how deep the darkness of his work went. You had a basic idea though, and that was too much for his taste. You didn’t deserve to know any of that stuff even existed. He wanted to shield you from all of it. Just let you live like a princess in a castle without wondering how he could afford to give you that castle in the first place.

He shoos his concerns away by burying himself further in your cunt. He flicks his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves in rapid succession, applying pressure with his gentle sucking. A sense of satisfaction comes over him as he feels your slick beginning to coat his chin. He increases his efforts and flattens his tongue on your clit before going back down and working it into your hole.

He laps every drop of you he can, groaning at the taste. His arms squeeze tighter around your thighs, and he takes a deeper breath of that heady scent. He’s so laser focused on your pussy, he doesn’t fully register the moans beginning to spill from your lips.

Finally, he perks up when he hears possibly his favorite sound in the entire world.

“Leon?” you whimper, your voice soft and shaky with arousal.

He groans again, opening his mouth now to make out with your cunt. His tongue massages you and works inside you again.

“S’ok, baby, everything’s ok. Keep having those pretty dreams,” he mumbles into the junction of your thighs.

He doubts you could even hear that at the volume he spoke it, but he’s back to work anyways. Your squirming is getting more frequent as the coils of pleasure tighten within you. Your legs shift around in a futile attempt to alleviate the disruption to your rest.

More wetness collects between your legs, mixing with his spit and making your folds slippery. It’s the best feeling ever to him, he just can’t get enough. That smooth, slick skin. Your warm, plush thighs. He’d do this all day if he could. Any stress he’d had from work was as dead as the guy who’s blood had ruined his suit.

With one particular stroke of his tongue, you rouse from sleep. Your legs tighten around his head with a few conscious whimpers. You lift your head and look down at the mop of hair working at the apex of your thighs. You lazily run your fingers through the locks.

“What are you doing?” you mumble, your voice a little whiny from the nonstop ministrations to your cunt. Your head falls back to the pillow with a soft gasp.

“I think it’s obvious what I’m doing, sweetheart,” he teases before continuing.

“Bad day?” you rasp.

“No. Now shhh. Let me make you feel good, honey,” he says simply.

While Leon loved talking to you, he couldn’t eat you out till you were trembling if he was using his mouth for anything else. He returns his full attention to your pussy, devoting all his energy to getting you to that peak.

Your moans are louder now, becoming higher pitched as sparks of ecstasy fly inside you. The sheets gather and twist around your body as you writhe on the mattress. Toes curling as moon light shines through the curtains in your bedroom, you suck in a hushed gasp as his fingers slide inside you with ease.

You’re so sensitive from your condition that it only takes a few gentle pumps and scissoring motions of his fingers to have you dangling from that pleasurable edge. Your hips try to buck, but again, his palms have you secure, right where he wants you.

“Fuck… Leon. I- I- babe, I’m gonna-” you whimper while your breathing becomes more labored.

“Come on, babydoll,” he nearly growls, “You can do it. Cum for me. All over my face.”

Strained cries rise in your throat, your hips rhythmically rolling into the pleasure he provides. Not one to ever resist him, it’s only moments later that you do as he says, the band of euphoria inside you snapping.

He works you through it, not stopping his tongue or fingers. Your moans are deep and loud. There was no reason to be concerned with volume so you let the sounds fill the bedroom and spill into the hall. Wet noises bloom from the bottom of the bed as your release coats Leon’s fingers.

Not wanting to waste anything, he laps up every drop of you that he can. His tongue makes broad strokes over your cunt, and even as you begin coming down, he doesn’t let up right away. You squeal and squirm as your high overflows. Your feet weakly kick at his shoulder to signal it’s too much.

“Leon… can’t take it… fuck,” you whine and claw at each side of the pillow behind your head.

Normally, he’d keep going. Mouth would be latched on to your pussy for the next hour at least. Swirling circles around that pretty clit until you were crying and had gone hoarse. But right now, you’re carrying his baby. Your days are hard enough, and the last thing he wants is to be the cause of any discomfort for you.

He forces himself off of you, panting as he disconnects and pushes himself up. Looking up at you, his eyes are blown out with love. You roll on to your side, stretching your sleepy limbs as you slip back into the state of relaxation you were in before he’d woken you. He watches you, adoring the way your mouth widens into a yawn as he crawls up the bed to slot himself behind you.

Curling up against your warm body, he lets out a hum of satisfaction. He places a few tender kisses on your neck and behind your ear. His fingers run through your hair and stroke it back from your face in soothing motions.

“My pretty little wife,” he whispers.

Now you hum in satisfaction. Your hand finds his which was on your belly, rubbing your bump. You gently squeeze it before lifting it to your lips and kissing each one of his bruised knuckles. It was something you’d done hundreds of times at this point in your relationship, but it was never any less special to him.

“How’re my girls tonight?” he murmurs and places more kisses on the side of your head.

“We’ve been good,” you answer softly, voice becoming sleepy again already, “Well, she has. She’s just like her dad. Been kicking ass inside my stomach all night.”

Your eyes are closed, but it’s as if you can see the grin on Leon’s face. “She can act like me all she wants as long as she’s as cute as her mother,” he breathes with a peck to your temple.

No matter how many times he’d say things like that to you, you could never fight the heat that rose to your cheeks and the smile that broke out on your face. You turn and connect his lips in one final kiss before you settle into the pillows to sleep again.

He just watches you, the best way for him to unwind at the end of the day. When he looks at you it’s easier to remember that while tomorrow’s gonna be another day in his life full of gunshots and corpses, it’s also gonna be another one he spends with you, spends waiting for that perfect baby in your belly.

[munsonhoneybaby]

Sweet Leaf | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader

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

Word Count: 10.3k

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

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

part one | part two | tmic masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

“You gonna let me in?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where else would she be?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who is it?”

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

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

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

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

“I just left your place three hours ago.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Friday night at eight.”

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

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

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

“What’re you doing?”

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

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

“Us,” Nancy interjected casually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I was!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds good to me, rockstar.”

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

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

“Swooning already?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re really talented,” She commended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, you really want to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pervert.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eds, there isn’t one in here.”

“Fuck. Glovebox, maybe,” He suggested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not being weird–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mike tried to argue, “I NEVER SAID–”

“I TOLD YOU!”

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

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

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

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

part one | part two | tmic masterlist

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

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[everythingmp3]

no need to be brave

adult Van x fem!reader

as your lover deals with a hangover, which is only made worse by her illness, she insists that you leave her to deal with it by herself, but you have other plans -with a bit of tenderness and heat, you manage to make her feel it: that you want to be with her, always, not just on her good days

authors note: hi! I was on a break from posting these fics but that promo clip where adult taivan are bickering gave me some inspiration, so I just took the idea of being sweet with her while shes suffering and this came from that, hope you enjoy <3 (5.8k words)

warnings: some smut (both receive in certain ways), mentions of cancer/grief etc.

it was a sunny winter afternoon as you laid on Van´s couch and listened to the outside noise, cars driving by, the day going unfolding while you relaxed with your legs stretched out, your eyes closed, your breathing slow and steady.

you´d been dating Van long enough by that point to feel like her apartment had become your second home, and she was more than glad to leave hers years of solitary living behind, but in that moment she had no idea that you were still there.

the night before, you had gone out to a nice dinner and against all better judgment she had insisted on getting a few drinks at the bar next door; you were aware of her diagnosis, unlike when you´d first started dating, and asked her if she was sure, to give her a chance to change her mind, but she did not budge, she wanted a proper drink for once, a few even, so, instead of playing mother and telling her that she was forbidden, you caved and indulged her. for the next few hours you joined her in enjoying the present moment, regardless of consequence, soaked up the atmosphere of the dimly lit room as you stole touches under the table and both got tipsy from a few shots and two drinks, kissing to taste the citrusy booze on each others lips.

as you walked home, arm in arm, you were glad that you hadn´t dragged her home, that you got to see her face glow pink as she smiled at you under the light of the moon, paused on your way back to kiss you in an empty street, to feel you up against a wall until you heard a group of people approaching and ran, or rather stumbled, away. you had fallen asleep later on in a tight embrace while caressing each others hair, whispering sweet drunken thoughts, "my baby..", "I´m so lucky..", falling into a dazed slumber.

that burst of sparkling euphoria was replaced by a dull dread the next morning, at least on Vans part.

she couldn´t blame anyone but herself for the banging migraine she woke up to, she knew this, so she refrained from complaining to you, even though she radiated a palpable air of "I am gonna die today. not in the near future, this is it, I´m fucking done for.", her body punishing her for her recklessness, her joints and muscles aching with every move.

you were already familiar enough with her physical makeup to know exactly what she needed on mornings like that: an ice cold coke, some strong pain killers, a flaky pastry, and you doting on her, even though she denied it. Van felt embarrassed from the moment she woke up, aware of how beyond rough she looked, her hair disheveled, her face puffy, failing to suppress her groans of discomfort, and yet, you weren´t put off by it, any of it, even when she was convinced you were surely losing all of your attraction to her by the minute, it never happened, not once; you had yet to see Van in a state that didn´t elicit feelings of adoration or warmth in you, her freckled nose and cheeks, the shape of her lips, her voice, her flame colored hair, that distinct sweet warm scent she had in the morning, they were never diminished in their effect on you by a cranky attitude or signs of her sickness, ever.

you knew that she did not always believe you, that she often wondered why on earth you stayed with her, through everything, even though you weren´t even girlfriends, not officially, not really. you knew Van well enough to know that she would not ask you to be exclusive, much too afraid of the unbearable sense of guilt of locking you down, when she might die within the year, when she might evoke widow-like feelings in someone who had barely just started their adult life.

you had no way of knowing, but in her darkest moments when she was cruelest to herself her mind told her "youre a fucking monster. you already knew you had a few months at most and still looked for a lover. you tell yourself that you werent looking for more than sex but you know its not true. you were too selfish to die without having anyone wrecked by your death. you wanted someone to really grieve your loss. and now youve found a poor soul. enjoy it."

still, even when she kept things undefined and told you you were free to date other people - while dying of envy at the mere thought - in your head, and in hers, Van was your girlfriend, she was, you didn´t need her to say it because her behavior sufficed, she treated you like a partner, not just a a hook-up, she was far from detached and you let her believe that it was casual, that you weren´t at risk of having your heart shattered by her death, that you weren´t already in love with her.

the way you´d found out about her cancer had been less than ideal.

during your first date, her attitude was "no need to tell her about it, I doubt I will see her more than a few times" at the time still very attached to her idea of keeping her love life non-committal, unromantic, only allowing hook-ups and maybe a few low-key dates here and there. this plan was abandoned fast when your first date went so beautifully that you ended up kissing her goodbye in her car, which inevitably turned into a heated make-out, which turned into you asking her to come up to your room, both of you a little shocked by how deeply into each other you were after just a few hours of talking over a dinner table.

one of your fondest memories from that night was after you´d gotten lost in each other for hours, laying there tired but far from sleepy, exhilirated by your natural chemistry, when she laughed and shook her head, still breathless, and said "what the fuck are you doing to me..", since she was not used to it: a stranger being as overtly sweet and intense during sex as you´d been, kissing her not just in the obvious places but on the back of her hand, wherever you could reach in the heat of the moment, still reeling from the way you´d begged to taste her after she´d done it to you, the way you´d caressed her sides, had given her a type of intimacy that she usually felt like she’d have to earn by being more open, more vulnerable during a date - but you didn´t care to hear her life story, you were eager to feel her, fully, and it broke her down, hit her at her weak spot, the romantic in her, that she´d kept buried, coming back up to hold you as you slept together that night.

you saw each other again two days later and you ended up spending the weekend at her place, which went so smoothly that Van abandoned her rule of "no sweet stuff, nothing relationship adjacent" : she started inviting you out for breakfast, always offered to drive you to work or to meet up with a friend, picked you up at night, listened and calmed you down whenever you seemed worried or stressed; you returned the same energy by randomly showing up at her store with flowers for her place or her favorite take-out or to just keep her some company and sit near the counter while she talked to you about her recent film discoveries, gossiped about some customers, pulled you into the back-room to make out until the bell rang, you pushing her away as she groaned and uttered "I´m not done with you" as she left the room and prayed that the person would leave within a few minutes.

this honeymoon period made her feel an acute sense of shame. she had tried again and again to find the right moment to tell you, to just say it: "I am so sorry. I have been keeping something from you." but the love she had so unexpectedly stumbled into with you, that light she felt in her chest, that unfamiliar warmth that had wrapped its soft arms around her soul, she was too desperate to keep it in tact, so weeks passed before the moment came, unplanned, she didnt want it to go the way it did.

one night as you laid on top of her, still breathing heavy, still trembling a bit from the way she´d wrecked you, her hands drawing soft circles on your back, her heartbeat under your ear, you had fantasized about possibly going on a summer vacation that year, to get away from everything, to have a few days just to be together and lounge around and jump into the ocean together, eat good food, be at ease. it hit her then, the inability to picture her future because she did not know how long she still had, so she went quiet and burst into tears.

at first, you were shocked, unable to speak, since you´d never seen her shed a single tear up until then, but you quickly recovered and held her face and tried to soothe her in any way you could as the confession came spilling out: "I´m so sorry, I´m so fucking sorry, but I don´t even know if I´ll.." she choked up in the middle "if I´ll..." you coaxed it out of her, rubbed her shoulders, listened quietly as she cried, "if I´ll still be alive in summer. I have cancer. terminal."

Van had expected you to be angry with her, to feel blind-sided and betrayed by her stringing you along for weeks without ever mentioning her severe predicament, but all you could think to do then was to pull her head against your shoulder and assure her that you weren´t going anywhere, that you would figure it out together, that she had no reason to apologize.

you put on a brave face for her but later that night the other person who was home with you had to stop you from almost hyperventilating at the thought of having to watch her lose her physical strength and suffer til her premature death, which you would have to survive, somehow. you allowed yourself one night of fully falling apart and grieving the loss you were being asked to face in the near future, but the next day a determination took over, you told yourself, "I love her. I love being with her. and I will make the most out of every second. I will ease her pain in any way I can, until the end."

Van could sense this energy from that point on, your protective spirit, and it humbled her while also making her feel a bit uneasy about her being older and yet being taken care of by you, almost shedding tears when you did things for her like massage her temples and joints with essential oils to relieve some of the pain or when you clocked her lies about having eaten enough during the day and cooked her elaborate meals at night, when you made her switch during sex to keep her from exhausting herself just to make you come again and again, a sweetness to it, the way you´d sometimes move away from under her and push her back into the pillows with a pleased smile that said "your turn now, I´m very satisfied, no need to prove yourself".

that morning, the guilt had come back to haunt Van, so she told you to leave her to deal with her aching bones and hangover by herself, to go out and have a fun Saturday, to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about her, to not turn into her "unpaid nurse", as she put it.

she´d insisted quite aggressively, her mood not helping at all with her self-loathing, so you´d assuaged her by saying "okay fine, I´ll go, call me if you need any help though" and left her room, walked down the stairs, loudly, on purpose, to make it sound like you´d left, only to quietly creep up again and stay.

you refused to leave her to her own devices in a state like that. it was out of the question. not when you were afraid she might pass out on her way to the bathroom or in the shower. about two hours after she´d fallen asleep again, around 3pm, you heard some noise coming from her room that signaled to you that she was awake.

you wouldn´t just sit there and listen, so you got up from the couch and made your way over to her room, cracking the door open and preparing yourself for her to tell you off, which of course, only took a few seconds to happen, a barely suppressed grin on your face as you saw her laying there, her eyes still half-closed, her cheeks pink from sleep, and heard her voice crack as she whined your name and said "noo come on, you said you´d go, what the fuck are you still doing here??".

you smiled as you took a few steps further into the room and crossed your arms, eyeing her with an unmistakably loving gaze, "oh, perfect way to be greeted while walking into the room" an air of smugness to you as you walked over to her nightstand and popped an aspirin into the glass of water you´d left there for her earlier. Van shook her head as she rubbed her eyes and let out a "fucking hell..", clearly still out of it, so you sat down on her side of the bed to get a closer look at her, your hand resting over the blanket, a twist in your heart when you saw how tired she still looked, but a bit of life had thankfully come back into her from the nap.

"this isn´t funny... take a fucking look outside!" Van told you, gesturing wildly at the window "it´s so nice out today, you should be with friends, moving your body, enjoying the sun, whatever, not staying inside to take care of an old decrepit woman." her tone low, an attempt at sternness that wasn´t unattractive to you, still, her pout took away from her ability to seem intimidating, to seem anything but sweet to you. you watched her, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucked it behind her ear and said "uh, would you mind pointing to the woman you´re talking about because I dont see anyone decrepit here".

Van rolled her eyes and squeezed your arm then for emphasis, trying not to be charmed, "listen to me lady, I told you, I don´t want to feel guilty all the time, I really don´t, this is my fault, I chose to drink, so you go, be free, have fun, please, I will call you when I am better again, I promise".

she was trying her best to sell it to you, the simple idea of: let us part ways, let me deal with it, and get back to you when I am fit again. but what you heard was "abandon me" and you never would. so it was pointless. she couldn´t sway you and maybe deep down she was secretly glad for it, your unwavering loyalty, the way you never seemed fazed or annoyed by her ailments, her moods, her little moments of melodrama.

"do you really think I am doing all of this out of pity? really? that I secretly hate this and just put on a brave face? come on. Van. you know me by now" you said, earnest, holding her hand then, clasping it tightly as she softened from your impact, felt touched by your gentle way of handling her. "yeah... yeah I do" she agreed and squeezed your hand, her voice barely above a whisper, a wistfulness to her tone, her eyes drawn to where your fingers were interlaced, a light kiss to her cheek from you before you took the glass with the dissolved aspirin and ordered her "drink.", which made her drop the tough act and smile, genuinely, pleased by that subtle sound of authority.

she obeyed and drank about half of it before pausing to take a breath and then finish the rest, a pleased "good, there you go" from you, which made her laugh as she wiped her mouth and lightened up a bit.

"do you have some kind of savior complex kink going on, is that it?" she teased, nudging you in the side as you sat closer to her and took in the sight of her eyes finally getting that familiar sparkle again.

"oh I see, you think I am getting off on all this, huh?" you joked, pretending to be offended, which only amused her more. Van leaned back against the headboard, stretched her limbs a bit and shrugged, "you tell me." a pause before she added "I´m sure you loveee seeing me all frail and helpless, hm". she´d slipped into the playful tone she often used when she was trying to get you to come onto her, to make her pay for some out of pocket comments by grabbing her and rendering her weak with certain kisses and touches.

Van was not in a state that allowed you too much aggression, but you had your ways, so, you nodded and said "hm sure, I love having you at my mercy", which made her flush, a hit to her core, her utter weakness for being overpowered by her lover, being toyed with, flustered by them.

you eyed her and saw it, that she was getting turned on as she responded "yeah. you could do whatever you want, couldn´t even fight back, not like this".

"hmm" you sighed and moved from the side of the bed to take your place on her thighs instead, carefully, making sure she was fine as you slowly settled on her and straddled her, your hands on her shoulders then, smiling at her as her face got colored in both surprise and arousal, her hands immediately on your hips, holding you in place, a soft groan as she felt your weight pressing down on her and sighed "okay. maybe I dont want you to leave.." her hands wandering up to your waist, a sound of pleasure from you as you nodded, pleased that you´d won, that she was finally surrendering, going quiet, letting you be good to her, make her feel wanted, even then.

"see, that wasn´t so hard hm" you cooed at her, your finger tracing her facial features in awe, the way you always did in intimate moments, her eye briefly closed as she leaned into your hand, let you caress her for a moment, sounded like a purring cat, until she grew eager for a little more skin contact and said "take this off" while tugging at your shirt.

within a few seconds you were topless, and to give her a bit more you also freed yourself off your bra, leaving you on her just in your jeans, a sight that enticed her to no end, the contrast of your fully covered legs and the soft flesh of your chest, all for her, her hands running down your shoulders over your collarbones down to your tits, your head falling back, a pleased "hmm" sound as she teased you a little, kept her hands over your tits while pressing her fingertips down, feeling you up, savoring the sight of you on her like that.

"come here" she whispered and beckoned you forward, so you leaned close enough for her to wrap her arms around your back and press kisses to your neck, quiet moans from you as she breathed in your scent and kissed her way up your pulse point, sighed to herself, kept a tight grip on your back, holding you as if she was afraid you leave, after she´d begged you to do just that mere hours before.

after a minute or so of letting her have her way, you grew too needy to restrain yourself and grabbed her face to give her proper, deep kiss, to run your tongue over her lower lip and bite it lightly before turning it more intense, slowly making out with her as she caressed your hair and sighed into your mouth, your hands on her face, your hips moving a bit from sheer need, a heat between your legs as you felt her desperation, the way she moved under the blanket to sit more securely and have a stronger grip on you, her tongue soft and warm against yours, her hands firm as they wandered from your hair to your neck, pulled you closer, until you both lost your breaths and separated for a moment, shaking, deeply turned on.

"god.. I want you so fucking bad right now. but I´d pass out, I´m already dizzy... " she confessed, her head resting against your arm, her breath hot on your skin, "the second I am stronger again, I swear to god..." she uttered and gave your hips a squeeze, another wave of heat to your core from the words, the touch, her sudden intense need for you, your hand on the back of her head, cradling her almost.

"we can still do something..." you said, unable to leave it at kissing, so she nodded eagerly and asked "oh yeah? like what?".

"I could.. help myself.." you said, which made her perk up, so you went on "I could jerk off and you could watch, if you want. help me out a bit, touch me.. my chest, your fingers in my mouth, anything", a pleased smile when you saw that the image alone thrilled Van from the way her expression changed, that look she always got when she was hungry for you. she hadn´t considered it before, watching you masturbate, adding to it, when she was too weak to follow her instinct to please you, and it moved her as much as it got her hot, your way of finding moments of deep pleasure and joy to offer her even on her worst days.

"hm.. yes please..." she said and waited, giving you a light slap of encouragement, looking at you with eager eyes as you climbed off her and took your place next to her on the empty side of the bed, pulled your jeans and underwear down, and got comfortable, spread your legs apart, ran your hand over your thigh, a sound of desperation from her as she took it all in, turned her body to face you more directly, leaned over to give you a kiss while whispering "show me, show me what you do when you´re alone", "when I´m thinking of you?" you corrected and smiled while moving your hand between your legs, a nod from her, "yes, yes that´s right..", a groan when she saw you part yourself to slick your fingers up to start rubbing your clit, slowly, taking your time with it, enjoying the act of performing for a devoted witness, for her. you let out a moan as you increased the pressure and felt yourself grow even wetter, already swollen and sensitive from before, the effect that making out with Van had had from you right from the start, you regularly soaking your underwear just from messing around on the couch a bit.

Van´s gaze remained your cunt, what your fingers were doing, how you were playing with yourself, salivating almost, until she moved her eyes up to your stomach, your chest, your face, and sighed "my angel.." as she felt overcome with affection and desire from hearing your sweet sounds, the vulnerability of it all, letting her see you the way you looked when you touched yourself in the privacy and dark of your own room, the distinct sound of your wetness almost making her black out for a second, stirring her need, her mouth watering.

she ran her hand over your chest, squeezed the flesh and got you to moan louder, teased your nipple, hardened it, felt your body shudder and react, "fuck.. please yes.." you whined and nodded, begging for more of her touch, as you rubbed yourself more aggressively, still, not too hard to come already, drawing it out, the ache, to have Van lavish you with her attention, so she did, gladly, her fingers digging into the swell of your breasts, hard, until she traced a path up to your neck, your jaw as she whispered "so fucking pretty..." and swiped her thumb over your lower lip, slowly, touching the tip of your tongue, which got a pathetic moan from you, so she took the cue and smiled as she pushed her index and middle finger into your mouth, slowly sliding them over your tongue, until you closed your lips around them and started sucking, intensely, as if you were giving her fingers a blowjob, perverse with it as you sucked and swirled your tongue over them, as she lost her mind from the feel and view of it and groaned "jesus christ...", trembling as you shut your eyes and savored the feeling of her fingers in you, as you felt your cunt throbbing with the need for release and picked up the pace of your fingers again to really come hard, to use that moment of double pleasure, both your face and lower half stimulated, rushing with blood.

Van licked her lips and let you keep her fingers wet and enclosed by your lips, an appraising "god look at you baby.. always so sweet for me...", only to move her fingers once you were close to finishing and touch your inner thigh, tracing a path up to where you were a soaking mess and helping you out by touching you below your clit, while you focused on your most sensitive spot, her fingers teasing your entrance lightly, which gave you the final push and made you shudder and come undone, the orgasm hitting you hard, your face twisted to the side, sounds muffled by a pillow, Van also moaning as she felt and heard and saw you come for her, to make not just yourself but her feel good, which she did, shaking as if she´d been the one to come as you went slack and laid there, bare, panting, flushed, smiling up at the ceiling as she kept caressing your thigh while you came down form the intense high.

you reached over to pull her hand to your mouth and lick yourself off her fingers, which made her laugh to herself in a resigned way while muttering "you know I might just die from this before the cancer has a chance to kill me.." which made you laugh too, still breathless, trembling. you kissed her hand before letting it go and rolled over to prop yourself up and look at her, "you good there, love?" you asked, grinning as she fussed with your hair and smiled back at you, "oh yeah, perfect, look at me, the picture of vitality" clearly alluding to her tired, worn out state but to you she was beautiful as ever, so you leaned in closer and said "I am looking yes, and enjoying it very much" a tap to the tip of her nose before you gave her a brief kiss, a scoff from her at your comment, which didn´t conceal the pleasure she took in being admired by you, earnestly.

"I am pretty fucking spoiled... some other chronically ill lesbians would kill to be in my position" she joked as you rested your head on her lap for a moment, felt her play with a strand of your hair. "well, I think some others would love to be in mine as well, so" you countered, smiling, but Van shook her head, a bit emotional all of a sudden. "I don´t know about that..." she said quietly "god. sometimes I feel so fucking sorry that I let things get this far. really. it was pretty selfish of me to keep you to myself like this.. like I should´ve told you from the jump, I should´ve made you -" she was falling into that familiar spiral of guilt so you interrupted her, "shhh" you said while moving your head up again and looking at her "easy there, take a breath, okay? and not to be morbid but even if you died right now you´d have still already given me way more than anyone else I´ve been with, and they were younger and fitter, so..." you told her, not lying, still, playing it up a bit, to amuse her.

"well they must´ve been doing something really fucking wrong if I of all people blew your mind" she said, raising her eyebrows, her tone dry, which got a genuine laugh out of you "maybe" you said, cocking your head, touching her arm "or maybe I just love you".

you didn´t plan on saying it but it was true and you had no desire to waste your time pretending you didn´t love her when you had for weeks and weeks already. it was natural, to say it, matter of fact, and it resonated deep within her should, the utter seriousness of your words. "love", she hadn´t heard anyone tell her that in years. she couldnt help it. she teared up, "please..." she begged, almost as if to say "I don´t deserve it.. don´t.. not me..not like this.." but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop you from doing so, so she leaned in and buried her head in the crook of your neck while shedding a few tears, clinging to you, as you held her close and whispered "I love you, I do, I´m not leaving, not today, not next week, not ever. so you can stop trying to convince me."

you sounded determined in a way that cooled her burning mind, so she wiped her tears and held your face in her hands, kissed you, a faint taste of salt from her tears, an urgency to her lingering kiss before she pulled away and said "I love you too. so much." her thumb running over your cheek, your eyes closed, a smile, a reversed image of what she´d done earlier, your turn to melt into her open palm.

you felt the need to be closer again so you laid on her more directly, which got a suppressed groan from her as she laughed and said "ah, careful there.." her hand gesturing at where you were laying, only the blanket and her sweatpants separating your elbows weight from pressing against the spot where she felt the effect of the previous actions. you knew Van was sensitive, but the idea that she had gotten wet from it, that she was soaked enough for it it hurt when you applied too much force, made you want to alleviate her from the ache, to taste her, to have her relax from your mouths work. you loved being devoured by her but sometimes nothing satisfied you more in bed than knowing that you were reminding her that her body was not just diseased but deeply desired, capable of giving her deep pleasure, giving had become more intense for you after youd found out about her illness, and at times she did almost cry from it, your energy of "I will heal whatever part of you I can, I will".

"let me help you with that" you told her as you slowly moved the blanket down her legs and tugged at her waistband, smiling, "I´ll be gentle, don´t worry" assured her when you saw that she feared she might react in an undignified way, lose her composure, faint from it.

she nodded as she felt you kiss her forehead once, twice, before you moved down between her legs and pulled her pants down, glad that she wasn´t wearing underwear, getting comfortable, softly licking and kissing over her freckled thighs before doing anything else, easing her into it, enjoying the intimate, sacred vibe of having her in that weak state, in bed, while the winter sun was casting a golden hue over your bodies tangled in the sheets, your lips glued to her inner thigh, perhaps your favorite part of her, the divine tenderness of the skin there that made every little touch from you send shivers down her spine.

Van was at peace then, free of the earlier intense pain, lulled into a full bodied warm state of arousal, one that wasn´t overwhelming but got some soft moans out of her as she laced her fingers through your hair, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as you held true to your promise and ever so gently ran your tongue over her, gave her kisses and soft licks, teased her, tasting her just on the outside at first, slowly, only the tip of your tongue, before you felt her open her legs further, silently begging for more, so you moved your tongue in deeper, your arms firmly hooked around her thighs, holding her in place, caressing her stomach, more romantic with it than in moments of a shared urgent hunger, your hands eventually moving up to find hers, staying like that as you savored her taste, the deep, barely suppressed groans from her that always drove you to go a bit harder, to hear more of that, her voice strained from what you were doing.

you remained down between her legs were for a while, both of you sinking into the delicious rhythm of it, the faint sighs and whimpers, her encouraging you "feels so good... don’t stop", finally able to let you show her how much you always wanted her without pushing you away but pulling you closer, asking for more, receiving it with a smile, her head pressed back against the pillow as you made "hmm" sounds from the pleasure of eating her out for that long, a brief pause when she looked down at you, tapped your shoulder, met your eyes and said "thank you, for staying."

Van didn´t just mean that exact moment, you could tell, so you kissed her lower stomach before looking up at her again and said "always" as if you had years and years ahead of you, because in moments like that, it felt like you did, everything was forgotten, love collapsed time and made the threat of her death vanish into thin air.

[ikinremu]

that ron weasley drabble was so good omggg!!

could you pls write more, like riding ron in the common room but him having to guide reader because she’s so weak and afraid that they’re gonna get caught (reader literally asked him to fuck her right here haha)

Hi angel, thank you so much for requesting! Thank you sm for the support <3 So sorry this took so long, I really hope you enjoy :)

What You Asked For

Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

Tags: P in V, Light spanking, praise, Unprotected Sex, Public

“C’mon darlin’ you can do it.” Ron practically cooed, assisting as you slowly straddled him, jeans unbuckled, freeing his hard length, “Not gonna give up on me now, are you?”

Your curious eyes darted round the empty room, voice a mere whisper, “What if someone comes in.?”

“Didn’t think about that when you asked me to fuck you here, did you?” He chuckled, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. His large hands splayed greedily over your ass, brushing against the flimsy fabric of your skirt.

You slipped a soft, breathy whimper, his grasp firm on your behind as he curled one hand around his bare cock. With great ease, he angled the thick of his tip with your entrance, silk panties dragged to the side, your cunt soaking his jeans.

“Am I gonna have to do it for you, sweetheart?” Ron’s sweet, prideful lips curved as he spoke, a pitiful tone lacing his words. Channelling your eyes directly with his own, he grunted rather hoarsely as you took him in.

Once more, your gaze flitted over your surroundings, fluttering shut as his cock so flawlessly filled your sopping entrance, unable to prevent your teeth from sinking down to the pillow of your lip.

“What you wanted, hm?” His smirk teased you just as intensely as the words he spoke, and you simply gave a soft - rather pathetic - nod, “Wanted me to fuck you in the middle of the common room, my dirty fuckin’ girl..”

His words pulled further whimpers from your throat, arousal slickening the heat of your tired upper-thighs. Your lips pressed out a sharp exhale as Ron guided your trembling hips against his own, your walls clenching around him as his tip pulsed between their sopping warmth.

“Shit, you feel good..” He practically grumbled, both hands squeezing eagerly at the thick of your ass, directing your hips together, bucking up against your flushed skin.

“Ron, please..” You fumbled out, utterly lost in the feeling of his cock pulsing between the harsh, desperate squeezes of your cunt.

“Please what? You’ve got to tell me what you want, y’know?” He encouraged, a single, tamed brow raising as he impatiently awaited your response.

“Please, more..” You gratified, the shallow pace of your breathing overpowering your speech, fingertips digging firmly into his broad shoulders.

Once more, he chuckled lowly, planting a lenient slap to your ass as you worked hungrily against one and other, as though further praising you, “More, yeah?”

Upon the abrupt request, he bucked his hips up far faster, grasp heated and possessive as he brought your body against him at a much faster rhythm, allowing the throbbing head of his cock to reach deeper. His tip smacked the very sensitivity of your g-spot. Your lip quivered, teeth puncturing down in a miserable attempt at silencing yourself.

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl.” He groaned, voice low and broken, “Don’t want anyone coming in, do you?”

Frantically, you shook your head, focus drifting from your previous priority of the room as you mumbled soft pleas to the surrounding air.

“Fuck,” Ron grunted, losing composure in the intoxication of you, “Seeing me fuck this pretty pussy..”

The words fizzled a cloud of arousal in your stomach, your cunt only growing wetter by the second. His warm, smooth skin hit repeatedly with your own, the air both humid and heavy as the combination of your hushed noises spread throughout the common room.

His callous palms squeezed hungrily at your ass, soon trailing to his control of your aching hips as his cock so perfectly filled your begging, twitching pussy. Not granted much success in suppressing your satisfied moans, your head drifted back almost feebly, drawing a smug laugh from Ron’s mouth.

“C’mon, stay focused for me now.” He cooed, “You’re getting what you asked for, darlin’, understand?”

And you knew he wouldn’t relent till you did.

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be so greatly appreciated!

[hamzaheaven]

hey lovely would you be comfortable with writing something about hamzah finding out the reader has a medusa tattoo? like maybe they’re cuddling or something and he sees it and asks her about it xx

a/n: ohhh to anyone reading this with similar experiences im so so so sorry and i give you the biggest hug. ive actually thought of getting a medusa tatt myself so this req really spoke to me !! this imagine is just kind of how i would handle it when brought up, i hope thats okay <33 big hugs to all of you and ily . thank you for the request angel <3

warnings: vague alluding to SA

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

you step out of the shower, his bathroom engulfed in a subtle haze from the heat of the water. the ends of your hair drip with cold droplets, sending shivers down your spine as you quickly dry off, rubbing one of his towels through your hair. the fabric smells like his laundry detergent, a smell that has grown all too familiar with you in the past few weeks. 

mindlessly, you slip on a pair of pyjama shorts, not even paying attention to the ink embedded in the skin of your upper thigh as you do. the fabric of the piece of clothing hides the Medusa tattoo partially, but it has been there for long enough for you to sometimes forget it’s even there at all. 

it was a part of your history, your own way of taking your power back; silent, wordless, a quiet testimony of what you had been through, and how you had refused to let it shape you as a person. 

you finish brushing your teeth before exiting his bathroom, flicking off the light and turning to look at Hamzah. he’s laying on his bed in only his sweatpants, one arm perched behind his head as the other rests on his stomach as he mindlessly scrolls through his phone. quietly, you pad over to the bed, plopping down on the empty space beside him, shivering slightly from the change of temperature from the clammy bathroom to the cold air in his bedroom. he’s quick to put his phone down next to his pillow, sighing as he focuses his gaze on you. he looks tired. 

silently, you lay down on your back, your still damp hair sticking to your shirt, causing you to shiver a little. 

“you cold?” he mumbles, his voice soft and hoarse. he doesn’t await your reply, but simply removes his arm from behind his head, opening his arms for you to crawl into them. you quietly scoot closer. your cold, wet hair drapes across his bare chest, causing him to hiss through his teeth as he wraps his arms around you, shifting in his position to get a little more comfortable. “shit, that’s cold,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he tugs you closer to him, resting his chin atop your head. 

“sorry,” you mumble humorously, wrapping your arm around his chest and resting your head against the warmth of his chest. you absentmindedly pull one of your legs up and over his legs, your thigh peeking just above the duvet he had previously draped around his waist. the room is basked in a comfortable silence for a moment as his other hand wraps around the cold skin of your semi-exposed thigh, his dark eyes mindlessly traveling down to your leg. gently, he starts tracing the swirls of ink on your skin, gently furrowing his brows together. 

“how long have you had this one?” he quietly asks, gently pulling at the hem of your shorts to reveal the full tattoo, his fingers careful in their movements. 

you look down for a moment, watching his fingers trace the black lines on your thigh rather cluelessly. he knew you had a few tattoos, but he seemed to have never really taken notice of the one on your thigh. for a split second, you felt something you could only describe as ‘caught’; like a child with their hand in the cookie jar. it was a part of your history you didn’t exactly like to revisit, but that’s the whole reason you got the tattoo in the first place; to stop being ashamed, to stop feeling like it’s something you need to hide, to stop feeling like what happened made you less of a person. 

you inhale shortly, plucking at the fabric of the duvet as his fingers continue to trace the lines of your tattoo. “like, two years now, i think,” you quietly mumble, shrugging. 

he tilts his head a little to catch your weary gaze. he can’t help but notice the slight apprehension in your demeanour. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen it on full display,” he comments, semi-jokingly. “well, never paid enough attention, i should say,” he jokes, his tone slightly suggestive. 

you chuckle at his words, unsure whether you should reveal that part of your past to him. you two hadn’t been together for that long, and that part of your history could be a lot to take in, for anyone; let alone a partner. 

he carefully tugs your shorts up a little more to take a better look at it. in the darkness of the room, it’s a little hard to see the details, but he’s quick to catch on, regardless. “medusa… right?” he carefully asks, his dark brown eyes flicking over to catch your gaze. 

you can’t help but avoid his gaze a little, keeping your eyes down as you look at the tattoo yourself, trying to push back the emotions and memories that come with the confrontation of being asked about the tattoo. you nod, unsure whether he knows about why most people get a Medusa tattoo. 

he stays quiet for a moment, seeming to ponder whether or not he should dig a little deeper, knowing how you struggle with being vulnerable like that most of the time. “why did you get it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper in the darkness of his bedroom. he carefully places his warm palm on top of the tattoo, as if he already knows the answer. 

you deliberately stay silent for a few seconds, inhaling deeply. “i think you know,” you finally reply, your fingers continuing to anxiously pick at his sheets. 

you feel him inhale deeply underneath you, almost frustratedly. “why didn’t you tell me?” he then asks, his voice gentle and careful, knowing this must be a topic you tend to avoid for a reason. 

tilting your head upwards, you lock eyes with him. his eyes are full of sorrow and worry, breaking your heart a little. you shrug. “it’s not exactly something i enjoy explaining, y’know? that’s kinda why i got the tattoo in the first place,” you quietly explain, “the tattoo can explain it for me.” 

he intently listens to your words, furrowing his eyebrows, nodding. “i’m sorry,” he finally whispers, removing his hand from your thigh and bringing it up to your face, cupping it gently. “i can’t even imagine…” he starts, fumbling over his words a little bit. 

you quickly shake your head, placing your cold hand over his warm one as it rests on your cheek. “stop,” you whisper, a sad smile tugging at my lips as you lock eyes with him. “it’s okay,” you nod, even though the both of you know that it is far from okay. but it has to be, in someway, if you want to live your life in a way that doesn’t and won’t revolve around the violence and tragedy that was forced upon you. 

he pulls his lips into a tight line, shaking his head. “it’s not, though,” he replies, pulling the duvet higher up, so it covers your thigh as it rests atop of his legs. he tightens his arms around you, pressing a kiss against your forehead, sighing. “why didn’t you tell me before?” he finally asks, his eyes opened as he stares at his ceiling, still holding onto you. 

you shrug, tightening my arms around his torso. “it’s not really a great ice-breaker, now, is it?” you sarcastically chuckle, closing your eyes tiredly against his warm skin. 

he stifles a bitter laugh, followed by a sigh. “you know that’s not what i mean,” he mumbles, tilting his head downwards to try and catch your gaze. you keep your eyes closed, though. 

you nod. “i know. it just didn’t seem important. i’m with someone i feel safe with now… all of the other stuff is in the past,” you murmur tiredly, pressing a kiss against his bare chest. 

his hand moves up from your waist to the back of your head, gently tracing his fingertips into your still damp and cold hair, smiling to himself. “okay,” he whispers quietly, pressing another kiss to your head as you fall asleep, his mind still silently racing from the piece of your history you revealed to him tonight.

[writeriguess]

hey! im so glad to hear you’re back to writing again!! your writings became such an act of comfort into my daily routine before so im so so happy you’re back!! <33

may i request eijirou kirishima x reader (in an established relationship) whereby after a date night, reader uses the train to go home and bf kiri accompanies her but the train was packed and the reader feels someone inappropriately touches her which made her uncomfortable, and kiri notices so he sorta swap sides with reader and comfort her, etc (it’s up to you on how you’d like to end it!)

author's note: I'm glad too <3 Thank you.

Steel and Shelter

The night had been perfect. A dinner date with Eijirou Kirishima always meant good food, warm laughter, and stolen kisses beneath city lights. You clutched his arm as you both walked toward the train station, your heart full from the joy of the evening. His hand rested over yours, thumb brushing your knuckles in absentminded affection. Even after months of dating, the little things he did still made your chest flutter.

"Did you have fun?" Kirishima asked, grinning down at you as the two of you descended the stairs into the station.

"Of course!" you beamed, squeezing his arm. "You always make date nights the best."

His cheeks dusted pink at your praise, and he let out a bashful chuckle. "Well, yeah, I gotta treat my girl right."

The station was busier than expected for this hour, but the two of you managed to slip onto the next arriving train. Unfortunately, it was packed. People stood shoulder to shoulder, filling every available inch of space. You barely had time to hold onto the overhead rail before the train lurched forward, pressing passengers even closer together.

Kirishima was right beside you, one hand gripping the rail, the other placed protectively behind you so you wouldn’t be jostled too much. It was a tight fit, but at least you weren’t alone.

Or so you thought.

A sudden, uncomfortable sensation made your stomach drop. A hand—one that definitely didn’t belong to Kirishima—skimmed against your hip before brushing over your lower back. Your muscles locked up as a sickening chill crawled up your spine. At first, you wanted to believe it was an accident. The train was crowded, people were pressed too close together—but then it happened again. This time, the touch was deliberate, lingering where it had no right to be.

Your fingers clenched the strap of your bag, your breath hitching. Panic coiled in your chest, but before you could react, Kirishima's voice cut through the heavy air.

"Hey, babe, switch with me."

His tone was light, casual even, but his crimson eyes were sharp, locked onto something—or rather, someone—behind you. Without question, you stepped aside as he maneuvered himself between you and the faceless stranger. His body was firm and unmovable, effectively shielding you. The warmth of his presence chased away the cold fear that had gripped you just moments ago.

You exhaled shakily, pressing closer to him. He didn’t say anything at first, just gently tucked you under his arm, his palm resting on your lower back in silent reassurance. But you could feel the tension radiating from him, the rigid set of his jaw, the barely restrained fury in the way his fingers flexed against your waist.

The next stop arrived, and as people shuffled to get off, Kirishima subtly adjusted his stance, maneuvering the two of you near the door. When the train emptied slightly, he finally turned his head just enough to glance at you.

"You okay?" His voice was softer now, laced with concern.

You nodded, though your throat was still tight. "I just...I felt—"

"I know," he murmured, eyes darkening. "I saw."

A flash of regret crossed his face, like he blamed himself for not noticing sooner, but he didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours and giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I’ve got you."

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache. Kirishima had always been your safe place, your unshakable rock. Right now, his presence alone made it easier to breathe.

As the train neared your stop, he leaned down, pressing his lips against your temple. "When we get off, let’s take a longer route home. I don’t want you walking alone, and I could use some fresh air."

It was his way of making sure you were okay, without outright saying he wanted to keep you close for a little longer. You smiled up at him, nodding. "I’d like that."

When the doors opened, he guided you out, his arm still around you. The city air felt liberating compared to the stifling atmosphere of the train. And as the two of you walked, Kirishima kept you close, his presence a silent promise—one of safety, of love, and of unwavering protection.

Because with him, you were never alone.

[rootedinrevisions]

Hot and Cold

CHARACTER: Tyler Owens

KINK: Temperature Play

WORD COUNT: 3.4K

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (Temperature Play (obviously), Fingering, Female Oral Receiving)

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

As you pull into the driveway, the familiar sight of Tyler’s truck parked outside fills you with a wave of excitement. He’s home early. You hadn’t expected him back for another few days, so seeing his truck there feels like a gift after a long day. A smile spreads across your face, and you feel your pace quicken as you gather your things, eager to get inside and see him.

The house is quiet when you step inside, the kind of quiet that feels warm and welcoming rather than empty. You set your things down, glancing around for any sign of him. Moving through the living room, you call his name softly, your voice almost swallowed by the cozy silence of the farmhouse.

Just as you reach the hallway, you hear a familiar creak, and you turn just in time to see Tyler stepping out of the bedroom. When he catches sight of you, his face lights up, his easy smile spreading wide. He opens his arms, and without a second thought, you break into a run, closing the distance between you. As you reach him, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close, his embrace warm and steady, like he’s just as glad to be home as you are to have him here.

Tyler leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, the simple touch making your heart skip. His hand comes up to rest against the small of your back, holding you close as he pulls away just enough to look at you.

“Missed you, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

You smile, resting your hands on his chest as you look up at him, letting yourself sink into the warmth of the moment. "I missed you too," you reply, your voice barely a whisper.

He grins, a playful gleam in his eye. “Thought I’d make it up to you. How does that sound?”

You look up at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What did you have in mind?” you ask, a playful edge in your voice.

Tyler’s smile grows, his expression softening as he brushes a thumb over the back of your hand. “Remember that thing we talked about trying?”

You pause for a moment, searching your memory, and then it comes back—the conversation from a few weeks ago about exploring temperature play.

Your cheeks warm, a mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering through you as you nod. He’s always been patient with you, always checking in, but the thought of trying something new stirs a hint of unease.

Tyler catches the shift in your expression, his thumb stilling on your hand.

“Hey, it’s just me,” he says gently, his tone calm and reassuring. “We’ll take it slow, alright? The second you want to stop, you just tell me.”

You meet his gaze, the softness in his eyes easing the last traces of tension in your shoulders. Taking a steadying breath, you nod again, feeling safe and ready to trust him with this new step.

Tyler’s hand moves to lace his fingers through yours, giving a reassuring squeeze as he leads you down the hall toward the bedroom. The farmhouse feels even quieter now, each step toward the bedroom adding to the quiet thrill building inside you.

Tyler opens the bedroom door and gestures you in with a slight nod. Stepping inside, you can’t help but pause, taking in the soft, warm glow filling the room. Candles are set along the nightstands and dressers, casting flickering shadows across the walls, and the air is filled with a subtle, soothing scent of cedarwood.

When you look back at him, he’s smiling, his eyes warm and intent. He steps closer, his hands finding their place on your hips and then leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that feels like a promise. Your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss, letting the day slip away as you focus on this moment, on him. His hands move slowly, almost reverently, as he starts to undress you, easing each piece of clothing off until you’re standing before him, bare under his gaze.

You give a small, playful laugh. “Feels like things are a little imbalanced here, don’t you think?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Maybe you should change that,” he murmurs, brushing his mouth over yours before pulling back just enough to watch you.

You reach for the hem of his worn white t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head, your hands lingering as they trace down his chest, over the lines of muscle, and the soft dusting of hair on his chest and stomach. His skin is warm under your touch, and you feel his breath catch slightly as your hands continue their slow path down.

Your fingers reach his belt, unfastening the Texas-sized buckle with practiced ease, and then you pop open the button on his jeans, pushing them down over his hips. He steps out of them, leaving him in just his Hanes boxer briefs, and you take in the sight, your hands resting lightly on his hips as you both stand there, wrapped in the glow and anticipation of what’s to come.

Tyler’s hands rest lightly on your shoulders as he guides you onto the bed, his touch grounding and careful. He pauses, leaning in close as he looks into your eyes, a soft smile lighting up his face.

"I thought we’d start slow," he murmurs, holding up a small bottle. "I warmed up some oil, figured this would be a nice way to ease into things." His thumb brushes reassuringly along your shoulder, and he leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "And remember, we can stop anytime. Just say the word, alright?"

You nod, feeling a little rush of excitement balanced with that familiar comfort you always feel with him. He smiles again, his eyes warm, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Then, he climbs onto the bed, settling above your hips as he straddles you, and you feel the mattress dip with his weight. His hands move with practiced ease, rubbing the oil between his palms as he warms it further. He catches your eye once more, giving you a playful grin.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice low.

You bite your lip, nodding, and then close your eyes, bracing for that first touch. The warmth of his hands as they glide over your shoulders is unexpected, surprising, and deeply soothing.

Tyler’s voice drops to a gentle murmur as he works into the tense muscles along your neck and shoulders, “Just relax, darlin’. I’ve got you.”

Each pass of his hands releases the day’s tension, and as he moves slowly down your back, his fingers finding every tight spot, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, sinking deeper into the mattress.

Tyler’s eyes meet yours as he gently guides you to roll over, his touch reassuring, his smile full of warmth. He leans close, brushing a tender kiss across your forehead before trailing his lips down to your cheek, as if to soothe any nerves lingering between you.

He pours a little more oil into his hands, warming it between his palms before he brings them to your shoulders. His touch is gentle yet firm as he kneads into the muscles there, his hands sliding in long strokes down the center of your chest, skimming close but not quite touching. His fingers follow the lines of your body with a slow, deliberate rhythm, making each touch feel intentional, almost reverent.

When his hands finally slide down your stomach, his fingers brush teasingly close to where you ache for him, and you can’t help the way your thighs press together instinctively. 

He pauses, his lips quirking up in a knowing smile.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” he teases softly, his voice deepening, and his gaze flickers down with a glint of mischief. He knows the answer, but he clearly wants to hear it from you.

You manage a soft “Yes,” your voice barely above a whisper, but the way you arch ever so slightly in response to his touch says even more. 

Tyler’s smirk grows, pleased. He moves his hands up again, this time letting his palms rest on your breasts, cupping and massaging them with slow, purposeful pressure that makes you sigh. His fingers tease at your sensitive skin before he pinches your nipple gently between two fingers, adding just enough pressure to draw an involuntary moan from your lips.

The sound seems to ignite something in him, and his smirk deepens as he looks down at you with pride and warmth.

Tyler’s touch remains steady, his hands still working over your skin as he focuses on your breasts, his warm fingers caressing, teasing, and exploring with deliberate slowness. Every touch seems to coax a new reaction from you—a shiver here, a soft gasp there, until you can feel the tension building, a heat pooling deep within as he continues his gentle ministrations.

He takes his time, seemingly savoring every moment as he pinches and rolls your sensitive skin between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the way your body responds to him. The warmth of the oil, combined with the pressure of his hands, creates a tantalizing contrast that only heightens the sensation. Your breathing grows heavier, your fingers clutching at the sheets, and your back arches as you feel yourself climbing closer and closer to that edge.

But just as you feel the tension building to its peak, Tyler’s touch withdraws, and you’re left yearning, feeling the ache of his absence as he slowly climbs off you, and then off the bed. He stands there for a moment, looking down at you with a soft smile that holds just a hint of something playful, almost daring.

“Stay right there,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of anticipation. His fingers trail softly over your thigh one last time before he steps back, and then he’s gone, disappearing into the hallway without another word, leaving you breathless and tingling, wondering what he has in store next.

Tyler reappears in the doorway, a cool glass of ice water in his hand, his gaze warm and mischievous. You glance at the glass in his hand, eyebrows raised, but he just smiles, setting it down on the nightstand before moving closer.

Bending down to your level, he brushes his hand over your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path along your jaw. 

"Do you trust me?" he asks, his voice soft, his gaze searching yours. 

You feel a shiver run through you, a blend of excitement and curiosity. With a smile, you nod, murmuring a quiet, “Yes.”

"Good," he replies, his voice a reassuring murmur. 

He kisses you softly, his lips lingering for just a moment before he straightens up and reaches into the dresser, pulling out one of his bandanas. 

He holds it up with a smirk, his eyebrow quirked playfully. “Still trust me?”

Your smile widens, and you nod again, feeling anticipation building as he gently folds the fabric around your eyes, blocking your sight. As he ties it in place, his fingers brush against your skin, sending tingles down your spine. You’re left in darkness, your other senses heightened as he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips, as if to ground you before the unknown.

You feel him shift beside you, reaching for the glass of ice water, though you can’t see him. The sensation of not knowing what he has planned stirs your pulse, leaving you acutely aware of every sound and touch as you wait, breath held, for whatever he has in store next.

Tyler slides an ice cube from the glass, holding it between his fingers as he moves back toward you. The shift from the earlier warmth of the oil to this sudden coolness makes your skin tingle in anticipation. The first touch of the ice on your neck is a shock that has you gasping softly, the cold tracing along the sensitive curve of your collarbone, leaving a chilled path that quickly warms beneath his touch.

You hear his low chuckle as he presses his lips close to your ear, his voice warm and soothing. “You’re handling this so well, sweetheart. Let me know if it’s too much, alright?”

His thumb brushes lightly over your skin, grounding you, as he continues to tease your collarbone, drawing out little gasps with every touch.

He moves lower, the ice trailing along the dip between your ribs, and finally down toward your inner thighs. You feel yourself shiver, both from the chill and from his proximity, unable to resist the way your legs press together instinctively as the ice grazes your skin.

He laughs, a soft, raspy sound that’s as much appreciative as it is teasing. “Oh, you’re loving this, aren’t you?” His voice is husky, his breath hot against your ear as he shifts closer, pressing his hand to your thigh. “So responsive… makes me want to explore every inch of you with it.”

His words and the gentle cold pressure on your skin have you caught between sensation and anticipation, the contrast leaving you feeling vulnerable and exhilarated, every reaction showing him just how much he affects you.

Tyler drops the remnants of the first ice cube onto the towel beside the bed, watching as it melts slowly, leaving a small puddle. He smirks at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes before he reaches back for another cube, this time popping it into his mouth. 

With a gentle yet firm touch, he spreads your legs apart, leaving you feeling exposed and yearning. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as he leans closer, his breath teasingly warm against your skin. 

He lets out a slow, deliberate breath, the warmth mingling with the coolness of the ice, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The contrast sends your senses into overdrive, the mixture of sensations making you squirm.

“Just wait,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate, as he leans in even closer. You can feel the heat radiating from him, mixed with the chill lingering from the ice. “You’re going to love this.”

With that, he leans in, letting the ice melt in his mouth before he brushes his lips against your most sensitive area, teasing you with the cold sensation. You gasp, the sudden thrill of the chill mixed with his warmth catching you off guard. He watches you closely, taking in every reaction, every little shudder that runs through you as he continues to play, the ice a thrilling reminder of the temperature play that has you yearning for more.

“Tell me how it feels,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over you, igniting every nerve ending as he continues to tease you with the coolness of the ice still in his mouth. You can barely form words, your body reacting instinctively to the sensations Tyler is creating.

“It feels... incredible,” you manage to gasp, your voice barely above a whisper as he continues his tantalizing play. The contrast between the coolness of the ice and the warmth of his mouth sends shockwaves through you, building a tension you can hardly stand.

“Good,” he murmurs, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he senses your pleasure. “I want to hear every reaction.”

He leans in again, giving you another teasing lick, sending another rush of chills through your body. The coolness from the ice dances with the warmth of his touch, and your back arches instinctively, pushing toward him, desperate for more.

“Tyler,” you breathe, the urgency in your voice making him chuckle softly. “Please... don’t stop.”

He nods, clearly enjoying how responsive you are. “I won’t. Just let go for me, darlin'.” He captures your gaze for a moment, the intensity in his eyes sending another wave of heat through you.

With that, he dives back in, his mouth enveloping you with the cold sensation still lingering from the ice. His tongue moves with purpose, flicking and teasing, every movement calculated to keep you teetering on the edge. The combination of the warmth of his mouth and the coolness of the ice makes you writhe, lost in a haze of pleasure.

He pulls back slightly, the ice still in his mouth. “How does that feel?” he asks, his voice dripping with playful seduction.

“So good,” you whimper, your body craving the dual sensations he’s providing. “I can’t... I can’t take much more.”

“Just a little longer,” he encourages, the playful glint in his eyes never fading. “You’re doing amazing. Let me know if I need to stop though, okay?”

With that, he leans back in, the coolness of the ice melting into his mouth before he uses it to tease you further, making you squirm and moan. The pleasure builds, each moment feeling more intense than the last as he guides you closer to the edge, his every movement a promise of ecstasy.

The moment Tyler’s warm mouth envelops you again, your entire body ignites with a new wave of pleasure. The heat from his lips contrasts sharply with the cool remnants of the ice that had just melted in his mouth, creating a delicious blend of sensations that sends you spiraling.

“God, you taste incredible,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending vibrations through you as he begins to suck gently on your clitoris. You gasp, the warmth of his mouth drawing a desperate moan from your lips. Each flick of his tongue makes your thighs tremble, the mix of sensations making it hard to think.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, he pulls away slightly, and you hear him reach for the glass of ice water. 

You reach up and pull the bandana off your face, opening your eyes just enough to see him dipping two fingers into the icy liquid, the sight making your heart race in anticipation. 

You can only imagine the shock of cold against the heat of your core.

He looks back at you, a playful glint in his eye as he says, “Ready?” 

You nod, breathless and eager for whatever he has planned.

Then, without warning, he slides those two cold fingers into you, the stark contrast sending a shiver through your entire body. Your back arches, a gasp escaping your lips as the sensation overwhelms you. The warmth of his mouth on your clit, coupled with the chill of his fingers moving inside you, creates an intoxicating blend that pushes you to the brink.

“Tyler, please,” you whimper, desperate for release as you feel yourself teetering on the edge. The dual sensations overwhelm you, each push and pull driving you closer to ecstasy.

“Just a little more,” he urges, his tone both teasing and reassuring. He continues to work you, his fingers curling and stroking within you, while his mouth works magic on your sensitive bundle of nerves. The mix of temperatures heightens every sensation, and you can feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter within you.

“Tyler, I’m... I’m so close!” you cry out, every fiber of your being focused on the wave of pleasure crashing over you.

“Let go,” he whispers, his voice low and sultry, as he intensifies his movements. You can’t hold back any longer; the mix of warmth and cold drives you over the edge.

With a shuddering moan, you let go, the waves of pleasure washing over you in powerful pulses. Your body tenses and relaxes beneath him, every nerve ending alive with sensation as you ride the high of your release. Tyler continues to coax you through it, his fingers still moving within you, drawing out the last remnants of pleasure until you finally come down, panting and blissed out.

As you lay there, breathless and sated, he leans up and captures your lips in a soft kiss, tasting the remnants of your pleasure on his tongue. 

“How was that?” he asks, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Unbelievable,” you reply, still trying to catch your breath. 

The connection between you two feels electric, every moment you share solidifying the bond you’ve forged through this new experience together.

[delcakoo]

Coudl you doooo bf!jungwon catching some guy staring at you and tries to scare them off? if requests aren’t open I’m so sorry!

wahaha ur wish is my command nonnie (warning neck kisses? marking)

now who did this guy think he was?

jungwon was in no way blind — unlike you, who seemed much too preoccupied picking a cereal brand to notice the disgraceful, unwanted, horrendously noticeable leer that this young man was offering you from down the aisle.

“—won?”

“huh?” craning back towards you, jungwon cringes in on himself at the concerned expression adorning your features.

“you okay? i just wanted to know which one you’d prefer.” supporting your words, you lift up a box of ‘nesquik’ in one hand, and ‘frosted flakes’ in the other.

in an attempt to not be obvious about his displeasure, he quickly nods to the latter. “we haven’t got frosted flakes in a while.”

the minute you turn around and begin scanning through the grocery list again, jungwon snaps his head back to the man, only to realize he still had his eyes on you. seriously, was he blind too? your very big, strong, kind-of-tall boyfriend was right there!

shoving his fisted-up knuckles deeper into the comfort of his orange hoodie, your cat boyfriend frowns. he wouldn’t just sit around and let that guy drool over you if there was something he could do about it.

even when jungwon wraps his arms around your waist, you don’t flinch at the abruptness of it, which only encourages him to move closer and rest his chin against your shoulder. his warmth is easily welcomed, including the light kisses that he starts gently peppering down your neck (even if such pda — that he usually never has confidence for — bewilders you a bit).

little do you know he most definitely isn’t reading the list over your shoulder — rather, jungwon’s busy glaring at this brown-haired man with the nastiest scowl he can muster. his face practically screams at the man to back off, and the tight grip his fingers find on your waist accentuates his claim further. you don’t fail to notice how his lips feel feathery and slightly wet against your skin, which only worsens as the male begins sucking to leave a mark with no prior notice.

at the ticklish feeling, you quickly shake him off. “yah, what’re you doing? we’re in the grocery store,” you remind in confusion, a slight blush dusting your cheeks. but it seems you’re too late; jungwon is now smiling proudly, and when you spin around to follow his gaze and discover what the commotions about, you’re left with an empty aisle.

“nobody’s here,” you murmur, rubbing your neck furiously. “geez, won. give me your hoodie, you dumbass.”

he obliges, dimples poking through his cheek even while pulling the soft material over his head. “now you wanna cover up my love, jagi?”

“yup. but maybe if you let me give you a matching one later i’ll call it even.”

his eyes can’t help but widen at that. “yoi..” jungwon giggles, pale fingers rising to shyly massage the back of his neck. he may have scared him off.. but perhaps he’d have to thank that guy later.

i missed writing for wonie it’s been so long <\3 also, reqs are closing again soon cuz exams r getting closer :( i’ll be working on the ones in my inbox for the meantime!!

[pvppybun]

Nap Time

Gn!Reader, sfw

This is a repost from my original acct @angelbvnny !!!

Tartaglia, Wanderer, Kaveh

Tartaglia

Naps are quite an often occurrence with you and Ajax. Being a harbinger is very demanding. He's always pushing his body past it's limits. So by the time he arrives home, he's ready to pass out. You know when the day's been a particularly hard one when your normally lively over the top boyfriend enters without a word.

He will head straight for you, sneaking up from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, letting out a sigh of relief. This has happened enough for you to know what he needs. You turn around giving him a light kiss on the lips. "Wanna take a nap?" His tired dark eyes stare at you for a moment before nodding.

As the two of you lie down he instantly clings onto you, tightly holding you in his arms. His hands are grabbing onto the fabric of your shirt. You can see as he slowly relaxes and his shoulders loosen. A smile appears on his face before light snoring can be heard. He's out within minutes.

I hope that you got everything done before this because you'll be stuck here until he wakes up. But you can't be upset when you see the peaceful look on your boyfriends face as he cuddles you <3

Wanderer

Scara doesn't get tired easily, so naps aren't too often with him. It's usually you that wants to take one. And he always agrees to it because while he will never admit it, he will do anything you tell him to, not without complaining about it of course. But in the times he does initiate it, it's more for intimacy purposes rather than actually resting. Because it's hard to say what he wants! In fact he would consider it to be humiliating to ask you to hold him.

Speaking of being humiliated, even asking to take a nap is difficult for him. So instead he opts to follow you around the house until you get the hint. Any time you turn to him asking if he needs anything, he simply shrugs and stays silent. He does get frustrated when you don't figure it out though (even though it's basically impossible to know what he wants) so he starts to sigh. But you still don't get the hint. So then the sighs get louder, and grow longer.

So you ask him for the nth time what's wrong, and by this point he can't take it anymore and tells you "Take a nap with me." Oh. Was that all? You're relieved he's not actually upset over something. It's actually pretty cute that he went so far just to ask you to take a nap with him. So you wrap up whatever you're doing and lay down with him.

He insists on being big spoon, holding you against himself. But somehow as you are sleeping he always manages to end up being cradled in your arms by the time you wake up. Whether it's intentional or not you aren't sure, but you choose not to mention it to spare him the embarrassment, and if it is intentional, you wouldn't want him to stop. You're glad Kuni feels safe enough to be that vulnerable with you <3

Kaveh

Kaveh has absolutely no respect for his sleep schedule. More often than not he will be up the entire night working on his latest project. So by the time evening comes in the following day, he's in dire need of a nap. And you're always ready to take one with him :)

He will come home from the Akademiya, immediately searching for you. When he finds you, he will moan and groan, talking about how exhausted he is and how he simply can't do anything until he recharges with his darling! He'll put his hand on the small of your back, urging you to the bedroom. He's already quite a needy boyfriend, but when he's tired, he NEEDS you. Needs to see you, touch you, hold you. Just to be with you.

Absolutely loves being little spoon. Don't get him wrong, he loves cuddling no matter how you're doing it, but something about being held by you makes his whole body relax and mind go empty. He specifically loves laying his head against your chest. Between the warmth from your body heat and the blanket he's snuggled under, he is OUT.

If he wasn't already, he instinctively grabs onto you when he's sleeping. Holding your hand or gripping your shirt. Kaveh has a surprisingly strong grip when he's unconscious. He just wants to get closer to you. Closer and closer and closer.

[yanderestarangel]

HEADCANONS MW3 - "HE TOLD ME TO TAKE CARE OF YOU" | GHOST X READER

TW: spoilers about the canon story of mw3, death, mourning, angst, smut, praise, comfort, care, gn reader, use of medicines, breakdown, ghost soft spot, reader moves on after Mactavish's death, nsfw, reader's mixed emotions and ghost, post death of "soap mactavish" , dark themes.

A/N: People who are fighting in the comments: this is a work of fiction, if you take it seriously just DON'T READ IT.

Your world collapsed after the news that your fiancé "John Mactavish" aka "soap" had died, and what's worse, for Makarov. You felt your feet tremble and your breathing hitch - Price himself gave you this news, making you sob on the phone while Price, Gaz and especially, Ghost, listened to your pain and anger.

Ghost already knew you, he was soap's closest friend, he had been to your house several times and was even going to be best man at your wedding, along with Farah, however, Mactavish's young death took that away from you - and the man felt guilty, maybe if Ghost had been quicker, maybe if he had been close to Price he would have stopped Soap from trying to play the "hero" and getting shot in the head, maybe - Simon's mind was filled with "maybe " mute and would never have an answer.

You couldn't go with Ghost, Gaz and Price to throw Soap's ashes into the sea, you really wanted to - but part of you was paralyzed, as you clung to old photos and videos of Soap, or rather, your boy, your Johnny. Ghost went to your house, carrying the jar - now empty - of your fiance's ashes, he saw how weakened you were, and how quickly you tried to close the door in his face, however, he obviously didn't let you, using one of the hands to stop the blow. "-We need to talk (Y/N)." He just said that, muffled by the skull mask, his hard and cold eyes now carried a dead glow of sadness, anger and concern, Simon entered your house, without even hearing a vocal response from him.

"-I know things can be difficult for you, I know you loved Mactavish... But he asked me to take care of you (Y/N)" he paused significantly, a silence of understanding crossed the small and empty space between the two of you, while Simon squeezed the handle of the suitcase with all his strength, while holding back the single tear that tried to slip from his eye. "-He told me to take care of you if something happened to him and I will keep my word, whether you want my help or not." he added, as the cold gaze returned to you, searching for some kind of understanding on your face, he knew what it was like to lose someone you loved - however - he was focusing on you now, he could handle the pain, but you couldn't.

Then he did something he never did, he let the head of the impetuous and soulless man collapse slightly and letting the suitcase fall to the ground in a light tumble, the sound called you back to reality making you look at the tall and muscular form of Ghost with his arms open to you, while he was teary-eyed but refused to shed any tears, mixed emotions between the two of you, but the same feeling - the pain of sudden loss - you ran into the soldier's warm grip, feeling the smell of clothes wet from the rain and the thick, uncomfortable fabric of his sweatshirt, however, there was a warmth there, a warmth that you needed. You allowed yourself to cry, cry until your throat hurt, Simon's big hands made a pattern on your back and went to the top of your head, he didn't need to say anything at that moment, he just needed to give you the comfort you needed, you felt It allowed you to be taken care of, even if it was by a person you never thought would take care of you.

Simon watched you sleep after crying so much in his arms, lifting you in his arms to the upper staircase and placing you on the double bed, empty, due to the lack of John. He sighed heavily beneath his balaclava as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching you sleep. "-I will truly keep my promise, I swear to you my brother..." Ghost whispered as if he was talking to Soap, or, the ghosts that haunted him.

The next few weeks were calm and uneventful, with Simon offering to help you with the household expenses. "-You just took care of the house right? Totally dependent on Soap?" He asked calmly, no judgment reverberated in his voice, just doubts and an attempt to get closer. You nodded silently, as you watched him hand you a notepad and a pen. "-Write down all the groceries you need for the house, I'll buy them, I may not be Johnny, but I'll take care of you just like he did." he said seriously, his penetrating gaze looked at the floor as he rested both hands on his knees, waiting for you to finish the list. You didn't question it, his look was serious, a statement you couldn't deny.

So, slow steps were worked into these daily narratives, with Ghost always checking in on you, whether you were taking your medicines right, whether you were eating right and even whether you were well enough - with rare occasions of you not being able to eat and Simon preparing some soup. for you, ordering you to sit at the table while he himself fed you with a spoon, some small compliments were whispered under the typical skull mask. "-You're doing well (Y/N)." "-I'm glad you're accepting the food I made." "-Just this spoon and you can go rest, ok?" - he wasn't used to being soft with someone, but, besides the promise he made, something about you made him want to see you well, but he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind like many others.

Soon the two of you began to live together more and more, not just polite everyday conversations or routine silent care, but rather, verbalizing some abstract feelings from both your hearts. Some nights Ghost would stay with you in the dimly lit kitchen, a hot coffee in front of you both, the steam dancing between you as you smiled sideways - a sad smile, full of hurt and nostalgia, but still a smile - showing some photos of Soap, some photos of you together traveling the world on the few vacations he had while he was alive. Making him smile beneath the fabric that covered his face. "-Oh, I see... He was really quite an adventurous man." he spoke calmly, seeing your sad look as he ran his finger over the cold screen of his cell phone, so Ghost had the idea of ​​telling some stories he shared as a protagonist with Soap - like the time Captain Price made him and Mactavish clean the entire barracks because caught you both listening behind the meeting door - you smiled, now, genuinely happy, making Simon's heart warm a little, as if he was on a mission and it was finally bearing fruit, your happiness.

He accompanied you to doctor appointments and shopping, he insisted that you should take better care of yourself - Ghost dragged you to an expensive clothing store and gave you permission to spend his money however and on whatever you wanted, you couldn't deny it just nodding and swearing he could see a chaste smile appear slightly on the black fabric he wore. You changed for him, trying out some clothes while he approved them all, making you smile beautifully, questioning him if he was being sincere. Simon just crossed his arms and let out a breath through his nose "-I'm just being honest, you're a beautiful person, any clothes you wear look great on you." he spoke sincerely, not noticing the words slipping off his tongue. You thanked him for the compliment, while selecting the clothes, the two of you heard the attendants talk about what a beautiful couple you made. You didn't say anything and neither did Simon correct them, just holding your shoulders in a gesture of shy affection.

Your feelings were confused, you practically lived with Simon now, even giving yourself the freedom to walk around the house in just a towel, you felt good, good about yourself and the man who took care of you - even if your mind wondered if it was right to accept such intimate contact with your late fiancé's friend -

Questions were also present in Ghost's mind, but he liked to take care of you, it wasn't just an obligation for a promise but for pleasure and self-satisfaction, the two of you now practically lived together - something that happened naturally, over time , just proof of a greater connection that was growing in both of you - soon you found yourself arranging Ghost's clothes, like you did with Soap, taking care of his lunch, even though nothing more intimate had ever happened, nothing more than pleasant conversations and warm touches, but covered by the fabrics of your body and Simon's gloves. The spark that was igniting there transcended any bond he had formed and any morals built during his time with Mactavish. He wondered if it was worth going over everything he believed in and trying something with you, touching your skin, feeling you on his fingertips, seeing your happy face and contorting with pleasure because of him - thoughts he didn't think about. he managed to free himself, after all, no man is hypocritical in his pleasures and desires - and Ghost was one of them.

It didn't take long for it to happen, a few glasses of wine, a few laughs between you like any ordinary weekend you were both having in that routine of caregiver x person who was dying from care. But something shone in both your eyes and his, a look that didn't need words but just actions - when you saw it, you were leaning over the kitchen counter, the taller man's thick cock hitting your holes, the swollen balls of cum hit your skin, leaving your skin red. It had been so long since you felt a cock filling you and Ghost was there, fucking you without much thought, just sweet compliments as he ravished your needy hole against his hard, cold marble on the counter. "-Yes fuck... You look so beautiful like this, take it all baby..." "-Don't be ashamed, just let go, I'm here, you've endured so much, haven't you? Yes, you're so strong... So beautiful... Let me take care of you sweetheart." "-Mmm... Fuck (Y/N)... You're squeezing me so good, keep it up okay? I'm going to make you cum, I'm here for you." He spoke between moans in the air, holding your thighs, you forgot everything, the mourning, the past, who you were, just focusing on the blur with each thick thrust and hoarse praise, full of Simon Riley's accent to you. You two didn't know how you were going to act after that, but it didn't matter about the momentary carnal pleasure.

After the post-orgasmic bliss, you and Simon exchanged more glances. "-Sorry, I just... We can't do that." Ghost spoke first, while he was still physically connected with you, leaving slowly, seeing your satisfied form but full of doubts and guilt, even so he helped you take a shower, the two of you sitting in the same bathtub, just an oral silence and the sound calm of the water filled the air particles. You didn't know how to feel, nor what to say. Ghost agreed with the idea of ​​pretending that nothing had happened between you... And that didn't do anything.

It happened again, it always did, another cold, rainy night, with Ghost above you, Simon's thick hands caressing your thighs, his warm breath on your neck. "-I promised to take care of you, I think... Soap would be happy if I made you happy in other ways too." he whispered against your wet, sweaty skin, pushing the shaft already covered in his semen even deeper, from other times he had cum, and maybe, he was right, Mactavish wanted you happy, and you were happy. He reached out his hand, grabbing yours, as he looked you in the eyes, pushing you to your limit. "-Tell me dear... You want another chance to be happy, right?" he spoke from behind the skull balaclava softly and with expectant eyes, all that was needed was your answer to your future, a future with Simon or, a future trapped in memories of the past.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[jinisnuggets]

ೃ࿐ "𝑴𝒚 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅"

ᴾᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʸᵉᵒˢᵃⁿᵍ ˣ ᴳⁿ! ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

ᵂᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: ⁰.⁶ᵏ

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᴺᵉᶜᵏ ᴷⁱˢˢᵉˢ, ᵖᵘʳᵉ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ᵂᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ.

ᴬ/ⁿ: ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵉᵒˢᵃⁿᵍ :'(

ᴺᵉᵗʷᵒʳᵏ: @illusionnet

He turned to his side, just to feel the empty spot next to him.

Right, he had forgotten. He had gone to sleep early the previous night while you had been working on your laptop to finish some due assignments.

“Is Y/n not here yet?” He thought to himself, slowly reaching out for his phone which was sitting in the bedside table next to him. His first initial thought was that he had gone off to sleep and had woken up not long after.

4:21 am.

He stared at his phone and lightly chuckled.

Of course you had overworked yourself again.

Slowly getting up, Yeosang walked over to the door and opened it. Walking past the empty rooms and down the staircase into your office.

He opened the door upon seeing the lights being turned on inside of the room. Although it took him a moment to adjust to the light, he quickly cleared his vision and looked over at the chair in which you had been sitting in. You were asleep, in a quite uncomfortable position which he was sure would make you complain about neck pain by the morning.

“Y/n, get up, let's go to bed.” Yeosang whispered, his hand slightly hovering over your shoulders.

No answer, he smiled before grabbing the rolling chair and pulling it back ever so slightly. Enough so he could skip his hands to your back and pick you up and bring you away from the desk.

You woke up to the familiar feeling of your boyfriend's arms, looking to see him walking up the stairs with you in his comfort. Smiling, because he had once again caught you red handed, working longer than you were supposed to. It made you feel guilty for being a possible burden to your boyfriend Yeosang.

“Yeo, you could've just gone back to sleep.” You muttered, voice croaky and tired from the almost impossible task to stay awake.

“I'd rather you wake up with limited neck pain rather than harsh neck pain for sleeping like that.”

“Well-”

“If I were Wooyoung I would've said, ‘Your problem, your consequences.’”

You chuckled ever so slightly, truthfully you wanted to burst out laughing but the sleepiness prohibited you from doing so.

“You can't say something about Wooyoung whenever I don't have the opportunity to laugh about it.”

Yeosang chuckled, “You're right, that'd be miserable.”

You closed your eyes again and put your head against your boyfriend's chest, how much you missed these moments. Almost giving you nostalgia of when you were still a child.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt your back push up against the soft cushion of your shared bed as Yeosang placed you down with care. Feeling the bed beside you sink down at the feeling of Yeosang himself getting on and laying down.

The warmth of his arms huddled over you as he planted small kisses on your neck, making you feel loved and supported.

“Don't work so late into the night. It concerns me.”

“Sorry, the assignments are due next week and I got anxious. I'll try not to do it again.” You muttered.

You felt his head nod behind you, making you feel more reassured of yourself. He muttered in a low pitched voice, “You're a fast writer and worker, you can finish it in under a week.”

He was falling asleep, making you smile as his head sank down onto the mattress. He deserved it, he deserved some good night rest. The more you thought about it the more you realized how selfish it was to always stay up late working. It disturbed his as well as your sleep.

Yeosang, what a sweet boyfriend.

Closing your eyes as you started to drift into a deep state of sleep. Hearing a voice call which left you unsure whether it was in the real world or the dream world.

“You owe me fried chicken in the morning.”

[headkiss]

hi!!! fall request for steve or eddie! maybe the classic giving reader their jacket when it gets a bit chilly at night <3

hiii!!! this might be a little different than what you had in mind but i hope u like it anyways <3 | 0.6k, a fluffy domestic morning with eddie!

Since moving into your own trailer together, you and Eddie have gotten to know each other better than ever before, if that was even possible.

Exact routines, whether you shower in the morning or at night, the first thing you do when you wake up, what you change into when you get home from work. Every little thing is shared and sure, he leaves his socks lying around on the floor, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s why Eddie knows exactly where to find you when he wakes up to your side of the bed being empty.

Most mornings, when neither of you are working, you’ll stay in bed until someone’s stomach growls enough to get you up, cuddling and talking, your fingers tracing his tattoos, his hands warm on your skin.

Or, you’ll be restless and get up before him, making breakfast and leaving out extra for him to warm up, reading on the porch, reorganizing his music, or taking a walk around the trailer park.

Eddie blinks his eyes open and pats your side of the bed, reaching for your warmth, but he’s met with empty sheets and a pillow with the indent of where you’d slept. Sitting up with a groan and a stretch of his arms, Eddie peeks around the room for clues of what you’re up to this morning.

He’d rather be with you than guess, though, so he gets up quickly, tugging on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, his hair sure to be a mess.

The kitchen smells like coffee, a pot sitting half empty. As he pours himself a mug, he spots you through the window.

You’re sitting on the small porch of the trailer, a coffee mug resting on the arm of your chair, hair tossed up in a clip.

Eddie smiles at the sight of you there, at peace, in your home that’s also his. He grabs his leather jacket from where it’s slung over the back of a kitchen chair and steps outside.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, voice still scratchy from sleep.

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

Fall mornings are crisp, the sun bright but not warm enough to cover the coolness of the wind, fresh smell of leaves and the colors more vibrant after having just woken up.

Eddie sets his mug down on the empty chair, walking over to you, bending down to press a kiss to your hair and tossing his jacket over your shoulders.

“You’re gonna catch a cold one of these days,” he tells you, making sure his jacket rests on you comfortably. When he sits down, he tugs your chair closer to his, his hand finding yours beneath the fabric of his coat.

“You’d take care of me, though.” You tangle your fingers with his, already feeling warmer than before. Really, you’d warmed up the second he stepped outside. “Wouldn’t you?”

“‘Course I would, but then you’d get me sick, and you’d take care of me, and it’d be the worst cycle ever. Snotty tissues and shit.”

“Eddie!”

“Just saying! Wear a coat, stop the cycle, babe.”

You smile, turning your head to look at Eddie, his hair frizzy, his eyes still a little heavy from sleep, his cheeks pink from the bite of the fall breeze.

“Why wear my own coat when you could be all romantic and give me yours?”

“I do like being romantic,” he says, tilting his head. “Don’t tell Wayne I said that. He’ll never let me live it down.”

Eddie’s tone is light, teasing, because Wayne’s already fully aware of how bad Eddie’s got it for you, and he already gives him shit for it.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Munson.”

[pinkberrytea]

Find the Word Tag

Rules: I'll give you five words. Find the word (or the closest approximation you can) in your works and post an excerpt. Tag others to play and give them new words too!

I was tagged by @judasiskariot, @deadly-diminuendo and @amoremagnificentbastard! Thank you lovelies, this was fun! 🤍

My words were: Salvation, Lust, Gazing, Blood (x2), Heart, Lips, Sun, Tempt, Adore (x2), Drink, Grasp, Rather, Warm

New words: Kiss, Sin, Pink, Love, Flush

Keeping this under the cut since er I did quote some spicy passages 👀 I couldn’t find “salvation” unfortunately, but to make up for it, there’s a bonus quote at the end from my newest project…🤭

No pressure tagging @xxnashiraxx, @eraserspiral, @hellethil, @kalmiaphlox, @busy-baker, @roguishcat, @inkymoonbunny, @nyx-knox, @astarionancuntnin, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @marlowethebard, @honeybee-bard, @larvasmoonlight, @arzen9, @caffeinatedmunchkin, @forget-me-maybe, @emmy-dekarios-bg3, @goodgirlgonebard, @verbenaa and @oncasette!

Lust

“Astarion, please…” he recalls you whimpering, the sound of his name on your pink tongue so enticingly sultry, stirring up in him all sorts of conflicting feelings; lust, infatuation, guilt, anger, all blended together and indistinguishable from one another. How beautiful a vision you had made then—such a pretty, luscious thing, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes glinting with coquettish longing. (la petite mort)

Gazing

Pressing down on your clit with a deft digit, he buries two others in the sticky warmth of your folds, parting them gently and hungrily gazing upon your wetness, or rather, its reflection—in the mirror, your slickened entrance glistens wantonly, a honied flower waiting to be pollinated, given a healthy flush by the heat of his crimson. (requiem)

Heart

Astarion had not been prepared for this; for how his heart would beat faster, how his stomach would twist and turn at the sight of you in your wedding gown, holding the bouquet of dahlias and asphodels he’d endeavored to choose for you himself close to your chest, pale cheeks glowing a faint pink and snowflakes falling leisurely on the veil covering your hair. (requiem)

Lips

Their lips touch before their eyelids close, and for a split second they’re each able to see the tiny flecks floating around the others’ pupils, swimming in pools of blood and moonlight. Diana wraps her arms around Astarion’s neck, and he wraps his around her waist; her tears taste salty on his tongue, his breath feels cool against her skin. (midnight blue)

Sun

The color of the sky outside slowly begins to brighten, now a beautiful blend of periwinkle and cyan, and as the twilight peaks and starts to reach its end, Astarion decides he has waited long enough—he will take you here and now, before the merciless, harsh light of the sun engulfs you both. (memento mori)

Tempt

“I love you”—is what you mean to say, but you bite back the words instead. They are empty, meaningless; the depth of your bond is such that “love” is a sentiment which needs not be voiced. You know he can feel it, for you can feel it too—way past just affection, the pure devotion carved on the core of your very being, so raw and so visceral that it may as well be an open wound, never to heal, bleeding thick, warm emotion. As tempting as it may be to proclaim it, the world is not owed any measure of access to your relationship; this is something meant just for the two of you, a silent understanding between an eternal bride and her husband-to-be, sacred and precious. (requiem)

Drink

The piercing pain of his teeth puncturing your skin is entirely numbed as the thick blood cascades down your throat, and you lose yourself in the bliss of life being returned to your undead veins, gripping both of his arms in an almost delirious haze; while drinking from each other, you rock back and forth, dancing still, a dark waltz under the fading stars. (requiem)

Grasp

Raising your upper body into a seated position, you reach for his arm, and your fingers tentatively grasp at the sleeve of his shirt. You can’t bring yourself to voice your feelings, yet you hope that the earnestness in your tear-filled eyes somehow is enough to convince him of your sincerity, for the thought alone of having your souls ripped asunder horrifies you. You had accepted your circumstances once, and you’d do so again—bearing the guilt and remaining his spawn for the rest of your days is too low a price to pay for his freedom, for his life, for him. All for him. It always was, it always will be. You failed him once; not again. Never again. For however long he’ll have you, you’ll remain by his side, pay your penance, atone for your sins, love him with all of you, body, mind and soul, until there’s nothing left but dust and blood. (vanitas)

Rather

That’s when it occurs to you how unlike your night together he seems to be acting—eagerly exploring your body with almost adolescent clumsiness, his movements sloppy and impulsive, he appears to be entirely focused on taking rather than giving; having no reason to try to impress you, he acts greedily instead, intent on achieving his own personal ecstasy above all else, a fact that doesn’t bother so much as instill in you a puzzling sense of relief. (la petite mort)

Warm

“Gods, I want to be inside you…” Astarion grunts, letting go of you to pull down his smallclothes, finally freeing his weeping erection. It glistens in the candlelight, red and hungry, and you waste no time wrapping your fingers around its base. A muted whimper falls from his lips once your warm skin collides with his, and he rolls his hips into your hand, to which you respond by lightly squeezing him, drawing pearly, sticky liquid from the twitching crown. (jouissance)

Adore

There is nothing Astarion values more than his dominance over you; his most beloved treasure, the source of his life, the source of his light, however dim. How terribly he adores you, and how frightfully he yearns for you, to be drunk on you, an addiction so great that the very thought of you leaving his side for even a minute fills him with pure dread. (requiem)

Sleeping peacefully like this, you look like a life-sized porcelain doll, he thinks—your unmoving chest betrays your otherwise healthy likeness, as does the unnaturally blanched color of your skin. Your nightgown hangs lazily off your shoulder, exposing one of your breasts, and your undergarments lay discarded on the floor, on the exact same spot where he had tossed them earlier that night. He adores this version of you—so vulnerable, so defenseless, laid open for him, and him only. (memento mori)

Blood

His blood tastes rich and angular on your tongue, and your hazy mind slowly clears as the thick crimson starts spreading to your extremities. You suck so delicately that he can barely feel your fangs piercing his neck—instead, he feels the plushness of your lips, the softness of your curves, the heat irradiating from your cold pale skin as it turns warm and flushed. (vanitas)

“N—No, not at all.” Feeling ■■■■■■’s cool breath on her skin as she switches over to her left eye, ■■■■■ knits her brows tightly, that all too familiar rush of blood prickling her ears the instant she becomes aware of the distance, or lack thereof, between them. “You’re the one who’s pretty, really. The prettiest I’ve ever seen,” she utters the words before they can be swallowed, the blood now spreading to her cheekbones and nose bridge. (???)

[sp4ceboo]

Stray: Lee Dokyeom x Cat Hybrid!Reader

A/N: so there are a lot of hybrid AUs out there where the members are the hybrids but it got me thinking about dk with cat hybrid reader (i heard dk was allergic but dw i got it covered)

tw: 18+ because of eventual smut, swearing, hybrids are not treated well by society, a bit of trauma from reader being treated badly, reader doesn't have a home or food at the beginning, reader is extremely emotionally repressed whoops, mentions of death + starving, not really slow burn it's just long and has weird pacing because i refuse to cut out some bits, dk is a huge ball of sunshine, it starts off waffly but gets sm better i promise, cheating and breakup (not dk and reader),

wc: 11.7k (oops)

you'd had your dealings with humans, and most weren't pleasant

as a hybrid, you didn't fully belong with cats or humans

the latter often thought you were inferior, and treated you as much

you find your fully cat form is much more agreeable to your human form with ears - it feels less obvious that way, even though normal cats can smell that you're a hybrid

still, the world isn't kind, and you don't have a home

you'd stood up for yourself at your last job - a secretary in a huge office block - pointing out that you got a much lower salary than the comparable human employees, and had been promptly fired

briefly, a human couple had taken you in, but once they realised you were a hybrid, they kicked you out

which leaves you where you are now, wishing that you were just one or the other and not both

the winter is especially harsh this year, and your soft coat, matted from too many days on the streets, doesn't do much to keep out the cold

the wind is cutting, and you find yourself slinking through the back gardens of some low rise flats, wondering if anyone will spot you and think you're just a stray cat

you can't believe you're stooping this low, but you'd rather this than death by frostbite

like hell you're just going to give up now

it's not like you'd stay permanently without the home owners knowing you're a hybrid, anyway - you know how that ended last time

the muffled sound of laughter floats towards you, and you scale a fence, following the noises until you make your way into a rather overgrown garden

warm light spills through the glass doors, and you curl up on the patio, at the edge of the beam cast by the full kitchen

by full, you mean full

there must be over ten guys in there, all crammed shoulder to shoulder around the dining table, laughing raucously

they're all human, from what you can tell

you can feel a bit of the warmth seeping out from the miniature crack under the door, but before you dare inch forward, further into the light, one of them turns around

he's got a sweet face, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he laughs at one of his friend's jokes

the hackles on your back rise as you feel his gaze on you

you've learnt that when humans smile it doesn't always mean they're good people

retreating quickly, you find yourself thankful for the crowded garden, slinking behind a bush to get out of sight

you immediately feel the lack of warmth, the laughter more muffled from here

for some reason, an empty feeling wells up inside you, like you lost something

like you strayed from the path of your destiny

but deep inside you, the survival instincts tug you away from the warm kitchen and the warm smiles

those instincts haven't failed you yet, so why would they fail you now?

however, despite your so called survival instincts, you find yourself in the same garden a week later

again

you'd visited a few times, but they didn't really count, because all you did was peer furtively over the fence, ears swivelling vigilantly

you'd caught sight of the guy who spotted you before, peering outside and frowning

you assume he's the one who owns the bottom floor flat

you hope he was wondering if he should get his garden in order, because if he was, you whole heartedly agree - you almost poked yourself on the brambles a few times

right now, the Guy is washing up, his sleeves rolled up and his hair a bit of a mess, elbow deep in the soapy sink water

his glasses keep falling down his nose

the kitchen lights are on - it's almost dark, and the night's chill is creeping further into your bones

it's been so long since you've been inside that you find indoor lights kind of... mesmerising

it might seem strange, but you almost crave the fake yellow light the light bulbs give off

the Guy suddenly stops washing up and you almost fall off the back fence that you're perched on, thinking he's seen you

then he bobs his head in time to a beat you can't hear while busting out some quite respectable dance moves, and you realise he's just listening to music

it must be some pretty good music - now he's singing, and you can hear it faintly

wow, he's good

he also looks pretty engrossed

that's your queue; you jump down from the back fence, your paws pattering against the frosty patio as you approach

there's something that always draws you back here

and it's not just because of the warm air radiating from his badly insulated flat

still, you're wary - he might seem friendly, and you might feel a certain pull towards him, but that doesn't mean anything

lots of things have felt right that weren't

you're not making any mistakes this time

you're tired of being mistreated because you're a hybrid, and tired of being seen as a pet and not a person

never mind if this ends with the Guy feeding you caviar some cats could only dream of, if he looks at you funny, you're not going to even set foot in his mess of a garden again

with that thought, you curl up beside the glass door, happy to bask in the lingering warmth from the kitchen and enjoy the artificial light

turning your head, you peer at the Guy over the lip of the door

his shoulders are turned in your general direction, but he's looking studiously at the dishes in the sink, shimmying his shoulders and tapping his foot along to the rhythm of the music, so you decide to stay a little longer

that's when the grey clouds coalescing above you decide to start snowing

you feel the fur on your sides fluff up in response, and you wrap your tail around your paws, edging an inch closer to the door

the air is bitingly cold, and you wonder if you'll make it through the night if the snow settles

you haven't eaten a real meal in ages, and you're suddenly aware that it means your poor little cat body has even less insulation

you're certain that if you don't find shelter soon, tonight will be your last

but do you really want to seek help from some random human?

it's ended badly before, but you know it could have ended worse

you won't let that happen again

abruptly, you stand up, tail lashing in irritation at yourself - like hell you're going to come crawling into some human's home, ears pinned back like you need their help

it's not your fault you were born a fucking hybrid

you're halfway down the patio when a warm gust of air blasts down your spine

you wonder if hallucinating heat is an early symptom of hypothermia but continue resolutely making your way towards the back fence

'hey,'

you whip around, a snarl half forming on your face in shock, but it's just the Guy

he leans in the doorway, a smile on his face and his eyes sparkling

'you can come in, if you want.'

the warmth coming from inside his flat is absolute bliss

you're a metre away from the open door, but you can feel your bones defrosting, and you know however hard you try, you can't leave now

not now that he's offered

not when his kind smile triggers not zero, but minus one alarm bells in your head

you approach but hesitate, knowing you're being too quick to give in - he doesn't know you're a hybrid, and you don't know if he's secretly evil and plans to skin you as soon as you step through the door

just to be safe, you stop just out of kicking distance, staring up at him quizzically

surely, he wouldn't voluntarily let a hybrid into his house - you're much more expensive to look after than pets, because you'd basically be another human in the house who can't earn enough to pay bills

you're considering backing out, even with that delicious heat emnating from his kitchen, when he moves to the side so you have a clear path in

your eyes widen a little

you feel like he's being too nice

he laughs a little at your indecision, squatting down so he looks smaller and less intimidating

'come on. i know it must be way too cold out there. i'll let you out whenever you want to leave, if that's what you want.'

that's the final straw

you step over the threshold and bolt

you're not even sure where you're going, but you swerve away from a room where there are clothes strewn over a chair and the desk filled with clutter - that's definitely his bedroom

the only other room that isn't the bathroom or the kitchen is a dusty room full of cardboard boxes and a bed with no sheets on it

a guest room, you assume

flattening yourself against the floor, you crawl under the bed

quickly, you tuck yourself behind one of the boxes which had been artfully stuffed underneath the bed

once you're settled, it occurs to you that that was frankly rude of you

the Guy let you into his flat, and the first thing you do is sprint past him and invade his guest room

but then again, he probably thinks you're just some feral cat who he saved from becoming a feline icicle, so your behaviour would make sense

you tense when you hear footsteps pass the door, but he doesn't come in, just walks into what you assume is the bathroom

a few minutes later, you hear the shower turn on, and you relax a little more

maybe he'll let you be for now

curling your tail over your nose to stop yourself from snorting in the ridiculous amounts of dust under the bed, you wedge yourself further behind the box and close your eyes

it's amazingly warm in the Guy's flat, you'll give him that

warm enough that despite the hunger that's been gnawing at your stomach for the past week, you find yourself falling into a sleep deeper than you've been able to reach for ages

you'll get to sorting out the details of your little invasion of his flat in the morning

for now, you're happy to sleep

when you wake up, he's gone

understandably, though - he must work pretty hard to afford a nice-ish flat like this, and it is also twelve noon

unfortunately, he doesn't appear to have any cat flaps, so that means you'll have to momentarily shift into your very naked human form to let yourself out the back door

you wonder if you should check in his fridge if he's got anything to eat, but then you decide against it - he's already given you a place to stay for the night, no need to eat his food as well

ignoring the call of the fridge and the shower, you pad over to the back door, pausing when you see something propped against the glass

it's a little whiteboard, and as you approach, you make out the writing

it's got 'hi, i'm dokyeom, dk for short :D' written across the top, with a little flow chart beneath

it starts with two options: 'are you a hybrid' with a box for ticking under 'yes' and 'no'

under the option for 'no', it says 'i'll buy cat food' and under 'yes', it says 'there are spare clothes in the guest room and towels in the bathroom (both clean, don't worry), help yourself to anything in the fridge'

you sit down on your haunches, shocked

so he did consider that you could be a hybrid?

and he's alright with it?

plus, he managed to leave clothes in the room you were sleeping in, and you didn't wake up?

maybe your instincts aren't as good as you thought

or maybe your body thought you were safe last night - safe enough to not wake you up when the Guy (dokyeom, you've learnt from the mini whiteboard) came in

you cock your head, staring at the whiteboard for a few moments longer before making your decision

honestly, it's not hard to choose

you make your way to the bathroom, already eagerly anticipating a shower

sure enough, he's left a towel on the rail, and you're quick to hop into the shower, shifting into your human form and turning up the heat high

it's strange to be out of your cat form, your body suddenly seeming too large and ungainly, your senses immediately dulled

but in a way, it's also freeing - you haven't been able to be like this in ages, as clothes unfortunately don't shift with you from cat to human form

you feel more real this way

that's the problem: you can't exist as just one or another, both animal and human are part of your soul, your essence - you can't just pretend that one half of you doesn't exist

eventually, you drag yourself out of the shower

you're aware that he might have limited hot water, and what kind of guest would you be if you used it up before he even got a chance to get home?

wrapping the towel around you, you slip into the guest room to put on the clothes he'd left there

it's a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, a large white t-shirt and a grey hoodie, all obviously his

even in your human form, you can smell the mixed scents on his clothes

there's the fresh smell of clean laundry, a hint of aftershave, and his own unique scent: you can't quite put your finger on it, but it feels... cosy

it's a smell that's all over his house, actually

barefoot, you enter the kitchen again, scooping the whiteboard off the floor so you can write on it

you tick the box under 'yes'

underneath that, you write a quick note:

'thanks for letting me stay. i'll be out of your hair in no time, i just needed somewhere for the night. you're very kind, dk. thank you so much :))'

signing your name and setting the whiteboard down on the counter on the way to the fridge, you rummage around, wondering what you can cook

you're pleasantly surprised - the contents of his fridge aren't awful, and although they could be organised a little better, it's thankfully not full of expired ready meals or anything like that

feeling better than you've felt in ages, you wander around his kitchen until you find his rice cooker, and then you get cooking

you're absolutely ravenous, but you make sure to make enough for him too - he's been unnecessarily kind to you, this is the best you can do for him

you're just finished washing up your dishes when your instincts prickle

it's a sensation that happens a lot when you're in your human form - it means that your cat form would be picking up something that your human senses are too dull to detect

rushing back to the bedroom, you slip out of the clothes he laid out for you, hastily folding them before shifting back to your cat form

logically, you have no reason to fear

he's been nothing but kind to you, but he's still a human

and humans aren't always as nice as they seem

you feel so much more secure in your cat form - smaller, faster, better at avoiding sticky situations, better at surviving

your ears twitch as you hear a key scrape in the lock

that must be him - dk

you stand indecisively in the middle of the guest room, your claws sinking unconsciously into the carpet before you hastily retract them

by then, he's toed his shoes off and is in the kitchen

you hear a soft 'oh'

he's probably found the whiteboard on the counter, moved from where he left it, and the dinner you cooked for him

he calls your name then, and you almost jump out of your skin before you remember you wrote it on the whiteboard

feeling far too nervous, you trot out into the corridor, nudging the kitchen door open before entering

he's right there, leaning against the counter, his smiling eyes bright as he looks down at you

this is the first time you've really seen him, really realised you let your guard down and allowed some random guy to let you into his house

he looks absolutely huge

like, he could crush your cat form in his bare hands if he wanted to you, although you realise that's not that great of a feat considering your small stature

he would also tower over your human form, but then again, that's not much of an achievment

still, it makes you take a small step back

humans have unquestioned power over hybrids - you're pretty sure if he killed you right here and now, no one would know or care

and if someone did know, the case would be as likely to make it to court as you are likely to become a billionare next week

your hackles begin to rise, and you mentally run through your escape options

unfortunately, none avoid you shifting into your naked human form, even if it's just for a few seconds

you're beginning to panic

a lot

but then, he crouches down, just like last night

slowly, keeping his movements predictable, he reaches his hand out towards you

'i won't hurt you,'

you relax just a tiny bit, ears twitching, waiting to see what he'll say next

'promise.'

of their own accord, your hackles lower, and you find yourself inching towards his outstretched hand

'you don't have to leave, you know. it would be nice to have some company. plus, i don't want to make assumptions, but i'd rather not let you go if you have nowhere else to stay.'

part of your brain wonders why he's being so nice

the other part, the part that you've shoved down for so long, surfaces like a long lost ache, reminding you how lonely you are, reminding you how much you miss simple human interaction

dipping your head forward, you sniff at his broad palm, before lightly licking his fingertips

he chuckles, albeit a little nervously, as if he's scared you're going to bolt at any second (to be fair, if you were him, you wouldn't write off that option either)

his other hand comes up to rub behind your ears, and your eyes close at the feeling

the beginnings of a purr start to form in your chest, and you know that's when your fate is sealed

the permanence of that thought unsettles you

pulling away, you head towards the radiator, settling close to it, glad that your cat form means that you don't have to talk to him

he grins brightly at you, picking up the plate you left on the counter and putting it in the microwave for warming up

'thanks for the dinner, but you know you don't owe me anything, right?'

you blink up at him from your spot on the floor

he's literally the kindest human you've ever met

then again, you haven't met very many kind humans

that night you sleep curled up on the sofa - it's much more comfortable than wedged underneath a bed, and his cushions smell nice

in the morning, you hear dk get up, but he tip toes around quietly

cracking an eye open, you yawn, eyes blinking into focus as you watch him quickly scribble on the whiteboard, his brow furrowed in concentration

he glances your way, and for some reason, it shoots a bolt of panic through you, and you duck your head back down, closing your eyes

it's not that he's threatening - quite the opposite

it's just that you're not used to this; not used to being in such close proximity with another being for prolonged periods of time, not used to interaction with humans after avoiding them for your own sake for so long

you hear some shuffling, the sound of the fridge door, and then his footsteps approach

as he walks past, he brushes a hand lightly down the soft fur of your back, as if in greeting

you almost twitch at the feeling

you wonder how long it's been since you've let anyone come that close

not daring to move a hair, you wait until you hear him ease the front door shut

the second he's gone, you jump up, eager to see what he wrote on the whiteboard

it's on the counter, so you shift into your human form and put on some clothes - you're not sure what his rules about paws on tables are

there's a fresh t-shirt on the guest room bed, but you opt to wear the one you wore yesterday

a smile plays on your lips as you read what he wrote

it's a short but sweet message extolling the virtues of your cooking and telling you to help yourself to the fridge again, followed by a question asking if what food you would like and whether you prefer cat food

still grinning, you write your reply, explaining how you can eat both human and cat food and how you love tuna in either form, adding a short shopping list of ingredients and asking how his day was

once you're done, you decide to explore his flat properly

it consists of two bathrooms, two bedrooms, a tiny room with a washing machine and various bits and bobs crammed inside, and the kitchen which sort of melds with the living room (if you could call the couch and TV in one corner a living room)

you spend most of your time snooping around his bedroom, just to sate your curiosity

it's not neat, but it's not messy either, and the smell of him is strongest in there

you're sure his desk should be buckling under the combined weight of his pc and the impressive amount of paraphanalia that's collected upon it

it's not that it's dirty - it's actually pretty orderly, there's just... a lot of stuff

there's a mug full of pens which says 'dude kisser' on it (you're not going to question that one), a haphazard stack of books - the top one of which has a fuzzy bookmark sticking out, a pile of mismatching keycaps, a group photo of dk and twelve other guys with moustaches and other flattering things lovingly drawn on, and tons more stuff you couldn't explain even if you tried

the chair has a lot of clothes draped over it: nice, comfy clothes, like the ones he's lended you

you're tempted to explore further into his room, but you feel kind of rude so you scuttle back to the kitchen/living room to make the happy discovery that he owns a nintendo switch

that means he probably has some more complicated games lurking around but you're happy to settle with mario kart for now

it's not something you've played before, although you've heard some of your human ex-colleagues talking about it

by the time dk returns, though, you're a pro

well, maybe not a pro, but not inept, either

by then you've made dinner and left it out for him like yesterday - you feel kind of weird doing nothing but playing video games while he goes to work, and at least cooking for him makes you feel a little useful and not like some awful parasite taking advantage of him

he tells you about his day as he eats at the dinner table while you sit in cat form on the chair next to him

he smiles the whole time, and you find yourself relaxed and content, infected by his happy virus

once he's done with his debrief, he unthinkingly asks how your day was

you look at him and give him your best deadpan meow

he laughs and you find it a bit dazzling - he hands away smiles as if they're free, and honestly it kind of restores your faith in humanity

'what if you blink twice for yes and once for no? how about that?'

you blink twice at him

dk grins, his eyes lighting up; he's so excited you can almost imagine him clapping his hands and kicking his legs like an enthusiastic little kid

'do you like pineapple on pizza? is it wrong to wear socks and sandals? how about socks in bed? are tomatoes a fruit? is it right to have toilet paper over? or do you like it under?'

he bombards you with random yes or no questions, each one getting weirder than the last, but you find his delight in your answers is more than enough to let him continue

after about half an hour, he either runs out of questions or decides to spare you, asking instead whether you want to watch a movie

that's how you end up curled up on the sofa beside him

he'd insisted on a horror movie, even though you'd said no, very clearly blinking only once

you would leave but you think it's kind of entertaining how bad the makeup and plot are and how violent his reactions are (they consist of a lot of flailing and terrified squeaks)

despite your reluctance to watch a horror movie, he's actually more scared than you are

the poor thing is tense as anything, his mouth hanging half open as he stares wide eyed at the tv, transfixed

you're actually too busy watching him that when the jump scare pops up on screen, you jump about a foot high, landing hissing on his lap with your tail all fluffed up

your claws accidentally come out and prick him through his jeans and he yelps

'ouch - shit - ow - '

you hop off his lap and watch him dramatically curse and pretend to be wounded, both of you distracted from the movie now

eventually he calms down and goes back to watching, but not before he picks you up and plops you back on his lap, one hand anxiously smoothing down your back as you both wait for the next jump scare

after a while he goes so far as to pick you up and hold you to his chest, hiding his face in your fur every time the music warningly crescendos, whispering to you how utterly terrified he is

even still, his grip stays loose enough for you to move away at any time if you want

you'd think that after your previous experiences with humans, you'd hate him anywhere near you, but you don't

you don't mind it at all

it's kind of ridiculous actually, the way you feel safer than you have in months when he clutches you to him while watching a literal horror movie

you don't think much of it though

he's just a guy who's letting you stay for a bit

you don't plan to stick around

a week later, you find yourself writing an apology on the whiteboard that you'd been putting off since watching the movie

dk is welcoming and warm and friendly but you're sure he must be wondering why you haven't shifted into your human form yet

sometimes, you wonder that yourself - there's something in his eyes that instantly puts you at ease

the day before yesterday, you'd planned it, changing into your clothes - his clothes, and sitting on the sofa, ready to greet him, but the moment you heard his footsteps up to the front door, you just couldn't

your cat form still feels so much safer, even though you have nothing to fear

well, apart from all the explaining you'd have to do once you shift into a form with a tongue that can talk

you don't want to see the pity that would spring into his eyes, or worse, disgust

you're scared of the change it will bring

you're scared to let your walls down

you're scared to bare the soft, vulnerable part of your heart

clenching your teeth, you force yourself to relax, the marker in your hand shaking from how hard your fingers had been clenching around it

you lean against the counter for a while, writing messages then rubbing them out, needing to tell him why but also terrified of what he'll say

solitude has been your only companion for so long, you find that you don't have the words to express what you feel

you don't know how to tell him how you hadn't realised how lonely you were until he let you in

you don't know how to articulate the warm feeling inside you when he smiles at you, as if he doesn't care whether you're a human or a hybrid - because he doesn't

you don't know how to say how eternally grateful you are to him for finding something soft and gentle and innocent within you that you thought you lost years ago

in the end, you decide to keep it short, an apology that feels more like an excuse, but it's the best you can give him

sure, you don't plan to stay here with him forever, but you owe it to him anyway

your restless for the remainder of the day, pacing around the flat and the garden for a little too, tail lashing agitatedly

you've almost convinced yourself to go and rub out your message completely when you hear the front door open and dk comes in, calling out that he's home

peeking around the corner, you see him down the hallway but he doesn't spot you

he's got a strange look on his face, one you can't decipher yet, and there's a flowery scent on him that you've smelled only one time before

you wait just out of sight, not wanting to see his face as he reads

slowly, you venture out, feeling far more nervous than you should be

he sits down on the floor opposite you as soon as he spots you, signalling for you to do the same by patting the spot in front of him

you sink down on your haunches and curl your tail over your feet, nerves a tight ball in your chest

'you don't have to shift if you don't want to.'

the words immediately give you space to breathe, and you feel kind of silly for being so worked up about it all day

'i know hybrids aren't treated well at all, and i'm okay with whatever form you feel most comfortable in, you know? you can shift when you're ready, and whether that's tomorrow or in a decade or never, that's fine. you don't owe me anything.'

your chest feels tight at the earnesty of his words, and you know that if you were in your human form right now, tears would be welling up in your eyes

getting up, you close the gap between the two of you and rest your shoulder against his knee, needing to show your gratitude, needing to be closer to him

he rests his wide palm on your back, a silent assurance

'it's nice to have you here. i used to share with a bunch of my friends - the ones coming over tonight that i told you about this morning, actually - and sometimes it gets lonely in a flat all by myself. i like talking with you.'

you meow, nuzzling against his other hand as he lifts it to stroke the silky spot between your ears

it's amazing, how simple his words are but how he can use them so well, articulating how he feels so boldly

he smiles down at you and you look back up at him, leaning against his hand before he gets up, groaning and cracking his back

his friends will be here soon

he'd warned you this morning, informing you they were noisy but harmless and that if you didn't want to see them, you could hole up in the guest room

they're the first people he's had over since your first night in his flat, and you feel kind of nervous about so many humans, but dk will be there, and you're determined to at least attempt to meet them

anyways, if they're all anywhere close to him, you'll have no problems

still, you stay in the guest room, ears twitching with each arrival

they laugh and chat, their voices carrying through the flat as they jokingly rib each other

occasionally, they have a little karaoke break where they all stop talking to sing along to the song playing on dk's speaker

then there'll be peals of laughter that follow, usually after an exaggerated falsetto note or a scuffling noise which you assume is dancing

it's after their laughter dies down a little when you finally whip up the courage to approach

poking your head into the kitchen, you peer in

there's twelve of them, not including dk, all sitting around the dining table, an array of soju bottles and mainly empty takeaway boxes arranged around them

you're pretty sure they're the same group that you saw the first time you found yourself in dk's garden

one of them spots you in the doorway, and he grins, leaning with his elbows on his knees and opening his palms to you

cautiously, you trot over to him, and he scoops you up, tickling your chin

one of dk's friends across the table gapes at you - he's a bit more drunk than the others (or he holds his liquor less well), and the guy you're sitting on chuckles at his expression

'dk, you got a cat?'

that's the drunk one speaking, his speech a little slurred as his eyes well up with tears

he's a sad drunk, it seems

'dk, you're a dad - '

dk scratches the back of his neck, watching his friend sniffle

'well, hoshi, not a dad, but - '

the guy still holding you adjusts you in his grasp, letting you catch the thoughtful frown on his face

'why didn't you tell us? i thought you were al - '

he's cut off by a sassy looking guy

'jun, just because you want to have a baby shower for a cat doesn't mean all the rest of us do.'

this causes absolute chaos, and the one holding you - jun - lets you down on the floor so he can stand up in order to argue with the sassy guy about the benefits of cat baby shower

navigating your way through the mess of legs under the table, you make your way over to dk

he grins and rubs the spot behind your ears, and you lick his palm before someone grabs you around the middle and cuddles you

you hear dk telling the boys to be careful and it warms your heart a little that he's still looking out for you

he doesn't need to be worried, though

dk's friends are as sweet as he is

you sit with the boys for the rest of the evening

they all leave eventually, trickling out in ones and twos

the last one left is the one they call cheol - he seems to be the protector of the group, and he makes sure dk is alright and helps him clear up a little before he leaves too

once he's out of the door, dk crouches down in front of you

'you okay?'

you blink twice and he grins

'they can be pretty overwhelming and noisy at first, but they're my best friends.'

there's pride shining in his eyes, and you can't help but agree with him - despite their banter, you could tell that they care so much for each other, and for him

'i didn't know whether you wanted them to know you were a hybrid or not, i hope you don't mind that,'

you blink twice again, meowing and padding forward to rub against his shins

you're not quite sure what makes you do that, what primal part of you tells you to put your scent on him, but he chuckles, smile as bright as the sun as always

he scratches at the spot behind your ear and you purr, leaning your head into his touch

'oh - '

you look up, the wonder on his face making it seem like he just made you sprout wings and flash neon

it's cute that he's so proud that he's made you purr

it's been a few months since you first started staying with dk, long enough for the two of you to have a little routine

you cook and clean and generally try to make yourself as helpful as you can around his house while he's at work

he'll write a message for you on the whiteboard every morning, and you'll write your reply during the day

you always come out to greet him at the front door, no matter what

then he'll eat the dinner you made and answer your whiteboard message

from then on, you'll watch a movie with him or just chat

your communication has become easier - sometimes, he'll get his laptop out and you'll type what you're saying, but recently he's gotten scarily good at reading your body language

and no, you still have not worked up the courage to shift into human form yet

you're studiously ignoring the fact that the longer you leave it, the harder it gets

you're also ignoring your previously stated intentions of not staying

you know that this can't go on forever, and even if dk can understand you to an extent, that's not enough and you cost him extra water bills and food

you know he's too kind to bring it up but it eats away at you inside

you're happy to remain blind to the fact that you can't have a proper conversation with him until you shift into human form for now

you tell yourself that you'll deal with it later, whenever later is

another thing that you refuse to acknowledge is your feelings

your fear that you won't be good enough if or when you show him your human form, your fear that you're a dead weight, and worst of all, the growing realisation that he's stupidly fucking handsome

you'd realised but you hadn't realised until one day, after he got back from the gym

his skin had been covered in a light sheen of sweat, and he told you he was going to shower before eating

you'd kind of just blinked at him, too entranced by the amount of skin his tank top was showing

like, what does this guy not have?

he took a little longer than normal in the shower - you heard him absolutely belting out the lyrics to some ballad you'd never heard before, so you trotted down the hallway to listen more closely

and then the door to the bathroom popped open, along with a billow of steam and a delicious lee dokyeom

there was a towel around his hips, low enough to make your stomach twist, and the water rolled down the planes of his chest in a way that made you want to shift into your human form right then and there, just to wrestle that towel off him and kiss him until you ran out of breath

instead, you yowled and jumped about a foot in the air

he just laughed, running a hand through his wet hair to push it out of his eyes before crouching down, telling you he didn't mean to scare you

you meowed and kept your eyes on his face, not on the gap that had opened in the towel due to his bent knees, and definitely not on the wonderful sliver of tanned thigh that showed

the image of dk, damp and glorious under the tinny light of his bathroom, cloaked in steam, often circles around your mind to this day

and it's not just that either - he's also funny and kind and sweet and you feel yourself drowning in his eyes when you look at him too long

just as a reminder: cats do not like water

let alone drowning

the sound of footsteps on the pavement outside dk's front door shake you from your thoughts

there's clearly two people, and you hear dk's voice as the key scrapes in the lock

he's speaking in a tone you've never heard before, low and emotionally charged, like he's angry

you peek into the hallway as the front door opens

dk steps in, followed by a girl you've never seen before, but her scent matches that flowery scent you've smelt on dk a few times before

something sinks inside you

you didn't think he had a girlfriend, which now, in hindsight, seems like a really, really stupid assumption

he's handsome and kind and considerate with a smile brighter than the sun

but then you notice something else - the obvious frown on dk's face

there's a sort of tension in the air, crackling and heavy, like a storm's brewing and there are dark clouds swarming above

she ignores it, instead spotting you and immediately crouching and patting her thighs to try and entice you over as dk shucks off his shoes, face like thunder

she says something to him in an airy voice about him not telling her he had a cat

he shrugs, not mentioning that you're a hybrid and staying silent, which kind of alarms you, because the dk you know is friendly, warm - even when he's angry, it's always firey, nothing like the frigid detachedness in his eyes right now

cautiously, you approach, not really sure what to expect - you're sure she's his girlfriend; now you think about it, you did hear dk's friends discuss it briefly, you just didn't understand at the time

she reaches out to stroke your back, but it brings the cuff of her oversized leather coat near your face

you get a smothering whiff of heavy, masculine cologne that you know is not hers and is definitely not dk's

there's no hint of aftershave, no smell of fresh laundry, and not even a trace of that scent on him that makes you feel warm and comfy

and if this isn't her coat, and it's not dk's, then who's is it?

cheater

hissing, you recoil, your hackles up as you swipe at her hand with your claws out before she can lay a finger on you

you're kind of taken aback by the violence of your own reaction - the tension in the air must be getting to you, too

'oh. it doesn't like me much, you're sure it's not one of those hybrids, right?'

dk's frown deepens into a scowl you've never even seen a hint of on his face, his eyes flashing, filled with something absolutely livid

'let's talk in the kitchen.'

he doesn't even look at her when he says it, and as he turns to go, you can see how hard he's clenching his jaw

you head to the guest room to give them privacy while dk's girlfriend slinks after him

even across the apartment, you can hear too well

it's partly your enhanced cat hearing and partly that new timbre in dk's voice - he's not yelling, nowhere close, but his words carry through the walls

it's the angriest you've ever heard him

you've seen him angry before; frustrated, annoyed, down right incensed, but it always passes quickly, the sun breaking through the clouds with ease - dk doesn't hold grudges

you catch 'cheating' from his sentence, and then suddenly, his girlfriend raises her voice, like she's the one who should be angry, screaming that she doesn't get why he's so worked up over this

that's the exact moment where you want to march into the kitchen and fucking injure her, somehow

punching her in human form would be preferable but you'd be down to claw her eyes out in cat form too

who is she, to cheat on dk, the kindest man alive, then tell him it's nothing? tell him she doesn't know why he's worried?

she doesn't know what she's taking for granted, and she's a fool for that

plus, from what you can hear, he's being half as angry as he really deserves to be, anyway

you sit there in a tense, seething ball of rage, protective and furious on dk's behalf until he puts his foot down

his voice is quieter, more subdued, but he's moved to the kitchen door and you hear him clearly

'get out.'

mentally, you pump your fist in triumph - he should have kicked her out the moment she had the audacity to tell him he shouldn't be getting so worked up about her cheating

in fact, he should have never have let her in in the first place

you hear her screech something over her shoulder about breaking up, as if that wasn't already obvious

honestly, you're kind of embarrassed on her behalf

she should be winning awards for how far her head is up her own ass

dk shuts the door behind her

he doesn't even slam it, just eases it closed like he always does and plods to his room

you hear the rustle of the blankets as he slumps down on the bed, hear the shaky sigh he lets out, and then the heavy silence

you get up and go to his room - the door is ajar, so you peek in

you don't go in; he has every reason to want to be alone, so you hover in the doorway

he lifts his head up and gives you a valiant smile

he looks exhausted

you hop up onto the bed and wait, not wanting to crowd him if he doesn't want contact, but he picks you up and sets you on his chest

you can tell he's fighting with his words as he formulates something to say to you

he stares up at the ceiling, avoiding your eyes until he covers his own with his arm, hiding the upper half of his face in the crook of his elbow

'i found out she was cheating this morning, but i'd suspected it for a while before. i wanted to talk it through with her, give her a chance, you know?'

he squirms and you realise your claws are coming out and poking his chest so you withdraw them and attempt to relax

'she told me i was overreacting, and... yeah. i guess i should have listened to my mum. she's always right.'

he laughs, but it's a loose, raw sound that echoes weakly around the room, and he still won't look at you or uncover his eyes

there's a moment of silence, thick and suffocating with heartache

a sob wrenches from his chest

it's a sharp, painful sound, like he's been holding it in for hours

the floodgates open

dk covers his face with trembling hands, tears leaking out from under his palms

you never thought seeing someone else cry would hurt this much

nudging his hand with your nose, you let him hold you close, rubbing your cheek against his and gently lapping the tears off his face, even as they soak your fur

you feel helpless, like the pieces of his heart are in your hands and you don't know how to fit them back together

he just clings to you, eyes tight shut as his sobs begin to subside

you stay there with him, wishing you could do more as he hides his face in your fur and hugs you close to him

you don't know what that girl was thinking when she decided to cheat on dk

actually, she probably wasn't thinking at all

you kind of want to tell him he's too kind and trusting for his own good, but you know that even if dk was capable of not being like that, he would choose to be the way he is

his hand strokes down your back, and you watch him from where you rest your head on his collarbone

he's staring at the ceiling, and although his eyes are red and a bit puffy and he's sniffling, his crying has subsided a little

dk props himself up on his elbows and gives you a sad smile

'sorry about that. and thanks, too, i - i needed that.'

you huff, tail flicking and smacking against his abdomen - as if he needs to be sorry

nuzzling into the hand he brings up to rub your head, you lick his palm, nudging it with your nose

then you hop off the bed and wait for him to follow you into the kitchen so he eats his dinner

you don't take your eyes off him, not even when he goes to sleep

you curl up in the corner, happy to sleep on the carpet, but he pats the mattress next to him and you can't refuse

it's nice, to sleep beside dk, his body warm and near as he reaches across the bed to run his hand down the fur of your spine and beckon you closer

over the next months, you watch dk heal

you help him heal, too

at least, you hope you do

you make sure to stick close to him

you've slept curled up at the foot of his bed every night since the day of the break up

he calls his mum the day after, and a few of his friends too

he stays strong and determinedly brave in front of the boys, not shedding a tear, but he cries on the phone to his mum

he also cries over a few emotionally fraught kdramas during the first week before you sit on the remote and refuse to move until he chooses another genre

truth be told, you were getting kind of sick of the same plot with different characters, and the pile of tissues on the coffee table in front of the sofa was growing frighteningly large

exactly a month has passed since the break up when, over his dinner, dk announces to you that he's finally installing cat flaps for you

he also mentions that he wants to introduce you to his friends properly, as who you are

the latter comment kind of makes you nervous

his friends are some of the most welcoming, commendable men you've ever interacted with, but a niggling part of your brain wonders if they'll be more sceptical than dk

what if they tell him you're taking advantage of him?

or that you're just a hybrid and don't deserve the kindness he's giving you?

because after all these months with dk, you realised you're not just staying for the roof over your head or the warm meals

you're staying because of dk

you care about him

a lot

not just because you're sort of a little bit hopelessly in love with him, but also because he's kind of... your best friend

he's so sweet and silly and and considerate and funny it makes you want to punch a wall sometimes

you'd protect him with your life

you don't really know how to say it to him, though

there's nothing more you can do in the house, and the words don't seem right on the whiteboard

you wait out the hours until he gets back from work, doing chores around the house or out exploring the neighbourhood through the newly installed cat flap in the back door

or singing in the shower, like you are now

dk's bathroom has very good acoustics

it means you can belt your heart out, happily knowing that dk won't be home for another few hours

you're singing one of the songs dk's friends had been singing the other night

it's kind of sad but also kind of a hoe anthem and the chorus has something about not understanding something - you don't remember the rest of the lyrics

it has a good tune, though, and your own singing combined with the splashing of the shower seals you off from the outside world

which means that when dk gets home early, you don't hear

originally, the only explanation for a female voice coming from his bathroom that he can think of is his ex, but that's dumb because she never had a key in the first place

also, her voice can't even compare to yours

because it is you, he realises

it's you in the shower right now, oblivious to the fact he's home early and is hearing your voice for the first time ever

a little bolt of nervous energy shoots through him, and he panics

what's he supposed to do? should he shout that he's home?

he decides he doesn't want to scare you just in case you panic, so he approaches slowly, hoping to knock on the door and let you know

he soaks up the sound of your voice, a smile playing on his lips, because of course you sound amazing

he's about to knock on the door when the handle turns

wait is all he gets out before suddenly, there you are, right in front of him, wrapped in a towel, cat ears peaking out from your hair that's dripping onto the tiled floor

his brain freezes

shit, you're pretty

you gape at dk

you didn't even hear him come in, let alone him walking down the hallway

this is probably karma from that one time you saw him fresh out of the shower

you'd known that it was inevitable for him to see you in human form at some point, whether it was intentional or not

you just didn't expect it to be so soon, and definitely not like this

oh no

he didn't hear your singing, did he?

instinctively, your hand comes up to make sure the towel around your chest is secure

you're seconds away from shifting and running, but you're rooted to the spot, paralysed by his eyes on you

he blinks a little, as if he's coming to his senses

'...hey,'

that's all he says, his voice soft and wondrous, his eyes sparkling the way they always do, sweet and inviting as the smile pulling at his lips

'hi,'

unfortunately for you, it comes out half strangled and breathy, but a grin immediately appears on his face, his eyes scrunching with happiness

he hasn't looked away once, gaze roving over your face as if he's committing you to memory, and you feel a hot blush begin to creep over you

'i, uh, let me go change.'

you scurry back into the bathroom, almost tripping over the bathmat as you shuck on a shirt and trousers, small tremors going through your hands

you tell yourself it's fine

because it is fine - you're not scared of dk, you trust him, it' just... you should have shifted for him ages ago

placing your hand on the door handle, you take a deep breath

turning back to the mirror, you hastily fix your hair before biting the bullet and opening the door

dk waits outside, leaning against the wall, still smiling

when you peek out, half hiding behind the door, his grin widens, and he opens his arms

you barely need to think, your body just moves, and then he's got you tight in his embrace, your nose pressed into his chest: just like that, any semblance of unease or self consciousness you were feeling evaporates like the space between you

slowly, you breathe in, then out

he smells like he always does - laundry, aftershave, and the scent that you've begun to associate with home

you sigh, resting your forehead on his chest so you don't have to look at him when you speak

'well, that wasn't so hard for me, was it?'

he laughs, eyes dancing, and with that, everything is back to normal

it doesn't matter which form you're in, it's still dk, and it's still you

you talk to him for ages - first over dinner, and then the two of you move to the couch, losing track of time as you fill him in, answering every question he fires your way

his sincerity makes your heart flutter: he clings onto your every word as if it's precious

in the end, you wind up telling him how you got to the situation you were in before

you lay yourself bare, letting your walls down for him to see the scars on your soul

you're not sure when the tears pricking at your eyes spill over, but dk wipes them away gently, spreading his arms for the second time tonight, letting you soak the front of his hoodie with your tears

he tucks your head against his shoulder, his hand rubbing up and down your back the way he always does

his heartbeat is comforting under your ear

you fall asleep like that, held safely in dk's embrace

things continue as normal, even with your human form revealed

you realise how stupid you were for worrying so much about things changing when you shifted into your human form

you talked to dk about how you feel like a burden, how although he doesn't mind, you don't like relying on him to pay the bills, and how you want to get a job

he reassured you that it was fine but after seeing the look of determination on your face, he realised there was no point in opposing you

so he pulls some strings (more like cheol pulls some strings) to get you a part time job in the local library

it's just three days a week, but the important thing is that you get paid and treated the same as any human would

your boss is a little old lady with very thick reading glasses

she bakes you cakes sometimes, and once she's fed you a slice or two, she forces you to take the rest home

it's not anything like your old job, but neither would you want it to be

it doesn't pay your bills either, but it's a happy compromise

dk claims that coming home every day to a meal that you cooked is worth the money of those bills a hundred times over, anyway

you also officially meet his friends

they're sweet, a bit noisy and chaotic at first, but they make sure to keep you included in the conversation despite all the private jokes that they seem to have

they act a bit like a huge family unit (they bicker like brothers)

despite their closeness with each other, it doesn't push you away

they didn't even care that you were a hybrid

you caught a knowing look pass between the one called joshua and the one called jeonghan when dk introduced you, but you're not really sure what it could have been about

you were probably just imagining it, to be honest

anyways, aside from occasionally attending their boys nights (on demand, they always clamour for you to join them), the little routine you and dk made is still very much the same

you still cook for him, except now you wait and eat dinner with him

there's never a dull moment with dk, and he makes you laugh until you can't breathe

he's made it his personal goal over dinner to make you laugh so hard you snort food up your nose again

you talk about everything and anything to him

he'll tell you about a funny thing at work and you'll tell him about a customer at the library and somehow that will bring you to a debate on hogwarts houses

today he sits across from you, the food on his plate already all long gone and eaten while you're just finishing up with yours

'you know, i'm allergic to cats.'

you gape

because he's what now?

'you're what now?'

'well, not to you, i guess. maybe you're hypoallergenic?'

now you think of it, you do remember one of his friends almost saying something about that the first time you ever saw them

it might have been jun, you can't quite remember

'you know, when you first sat next to me on the sofa, i was panicking because i didn't know what to do with cats.'

you snort

you address him as you get up, dumping your plate in the sink before proceeding to dive onto the sofa

'you didn't know what to do with cats? you just stroke us, dk.'

he follows suit, and you're propelled upwards due to the force that he lands on the sofa cushions with

'yeah, but it's different from how you stroke dogs. it doesn't matter, anyways, because i still got you to purr.'

he crosses his arms and smiles smugly

you throw back your head and laugh, realising why he looked so proud when he found the spot behind your ear

actually, you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and it's only egged on by the small indignant noise that leaves him at your reaction

eventually, you need to catch your breath, and as you wipe the tears from your eyes, you glance over at dk

your heart lurches

he's staring

there's this look on his face, in his eyes, that burns

his lips are slightly parted, and suddenly the air between the two of you is charged in a way that makes your heartbeat pound loud in your ears

his gaze flicks down from your eyes, down to your mouth, then back up, and all of a sudden, you can't breathe

you can't even think as he leans closer, his breath ghosting over your lips

your head spins, fear and elation fighting for control

is he... is he going to kiss you?

his hand comes up to cup your cheek, his slender fingers warm and so undoubtedly right

like it's meant to be

'can i kiss you?'

his words come out so softly that you could almost believe you imagined them, if not for that look in his eyes

it's deep and immense, full of want, full of longing

it sweeps you up in its arms, promising you the love you only dare to dream of

it's beautiful

it's everything

also, it's fucking terrifying

panic grips your swelling heart and crushes it

he can't want you, he shouldn't - you're a hybrid, he's a human, it will never work, you'll just get hurt when he realises you're not good enough, when he realises how much harder it is to be associated with your kind, you can't disappoint him -

leaping off the sofa, you shift into cat form and sprint for the back door

you shoot right through the cat flap and run, legging it to the end of the garden and launching yourself over the fence

despite your speed, you still spare dk a backward glance

he sits, frozen on the sofa, his head turned towards you, eyes wide and bewildered

they're brimming with regret and what you'd like to imagine is sorrow

you never thought the ache of yearning in your chest would be returned, so you let it carve out a space for him in your heart

you didn't think he'd try to fill it, you didn't think he'd be dumb enough to want a hybrid like you

that night, you try to leave

you try to walk down the road, away from dk's house, away from dk and his comforting scent and warm hands

you can't

your soul seems tethered to his, and you can't bring yourself to cut the strings

you spend the night sitting in the garden next to his, tail curled around your paws, bathed in the glow of his kitchen lights that don't turn off until around three am in the morning

you shiver in the dark, fighting with yourself until you decide to go back, to talk it out with him because that's what he deserves

you hate to slink back to him after being such a coward, but you need him to know that you do want him, that if you were a human, if you were good enough for him, you would have kissed him in a heartbeat

quietly, you slip through the cat flap make your way into the guest room

it's changed so much since the first night you spent in it - dk moved most of the boxes out of it, making it your room, even though you sleep in his most of the time

there's a selfie of you and dk, wrapped up in blankets for movie night, and a group photo of you and the boys halfway through the most chaotic game of cards you've ever participated in

you're determined not to lose this, lose them

you're determined not to fuck this up more than you already have

quickly, you shift and change into your clothes, just to stand in the middle of the room, not entirely sure what to do with yourself

you remain there, silently fretting, until there's a soft tap on the door

your breath catches in your throat but you manage to wheeze out a somewhat convincing 'come in'

dk peeks in and leaves the door open - you're aware that he's left it that way to give you a clear escape route

he chews on his lip, running a hand through his hair, and you notice that he looks tired, as if he hasn't slept all night

'i heard you come in, and i just wanted to say that i... i'm sorry. i didn't mean to overstep the boundaries. i just - you're... i'm sorry i messed up. asking to, um, you know, wasn't a good idea on my part, i don't - i didn't know what i was doing, i kind of just...'

he sighs, looking at you sheepishly once he realises he was rambling

'please don't go?'

that's the moment you give in

you let go of it, of everything, and let yourself fly into freefall

stepping forward, you hook an arm around his neck, sinking your other hand into his hair, bringing his face down to yours to fit your lips to his

he makes a soft, awed noise, his fingers curling around your waist to press you closer to him

he tastes divine, like heaven, like the best kind of destiny

the feel of his lips against yours becomes everything you'll ever need

hesitantly, you begin to pull away, words already forming on your tongue, but then he darts forward to steal another sweet, sweet kiss from you, and then you're drowning in him again

he tangles his hands in your hair, his fingertips brushing over your ears, tracing their shape as if to show you that he doesn't care what you are

when he eventually breaks the kiss off, he presses a finger to your lips before you can draw a breath

'don't tell me i don't know what i'm getting into. i thought i lost you, i thought you were leaving, and i couldn't... please, just let me love you.'

he immediately cringes at his own words, and you let your head fall forward until your forehead rests against his chest, huffing out a laugh

'i'm sorry i freaked out before, i - i got scared. then i didn't know what to do so i just kind of ran. i didn't mean to scare you.'

he pouts cutely, in a way that makes you want to poke his cheeks

'well, you did. i - '

you cut him off with a kiss, just to taste him again if not to shut him up

his hands find your hips, drawing you closer to him

'i think i love you.'

the confession slips out of you, mumbled onto his lips before you can stop it, but all he does is smile into the kiss

'i think i love you too.'

when the boys find out, they tease dk mercilessly while somehow also hyping him up

seungcheol, jeonghan and hoshi all claim to have known about it from the start, although everyone knows hoshi is just saying that

jeonghan purposefully sits next to you just to quietly tell you about how he managed to get dk drunk enough one time for him to confess that he was in love with a cat

dk gets pouty about it later, so you kiss his face all over until he smiles again

in fact, he pretends to sulk a lot to get kisses from you

sometimes, you'll catch him just staring at you with a huge grin on his face

he makes a point to hold your hand in public, telling you that he's proud of having you

his sweet words make it easy for you to brush off the stares of the people on the bus, easy for you to ignore the way they whisper

sometimes dk kisses you and loudly calls you disgustingly sappy pet names in front of them, just out of spite

you realise now that they don't really bother you, not when dk doesn't care about them and not when he loves you the way he does - unconditionally

he shows it in the way he hangs onto your every word, in the way he cooks your favourite dishes for you, in the way he holds you, in the way he kisses you as if you're the most precious thing in the universe

you take every opportunity to show him how much you love him, too

hence why you're up early, cooking breakfast for dk

it's a saturday, and the sun leaking through the curtains woke you, even though it didn't even affect dk - he remained snoring beside you, his legs tangled with yours and his arms locked around your waist

you'd eased your way out of his grip and replaced yourself with a pillow, pressing a light kiss onto his forehead before shifting into your human form and pulling one of his t-shirts over your head

most nights, you sleep in your human form, but he'd been hogging the blankets so you'd shifted into your cat form in a desperate effort to make it easier for you to squirm into his blanket burrito

'what're you smiling about, huh?'

you almost drop the pancake you were transferring to a plate already heaped high and steaming with others

his arms wrap around your waist, and you sigh as he kisses your neck

'actually, i was thinking about how rude it was of you to steal the blankets last night, you sneaky little bastard.'

'hmm, my bad.'

he nips at your neck before his tongue flicks out to brush over the same spot

his hands wrap around your hips, and you sigh noncommittally as he sneaks his fingers under the hem of your - his - t-shirt

'babe, the pancakes will get cold - '

'don't care.'

you don't even try to shake him off as he continues to kiss at your neck from behind, nudging the collar of your shirt to the side so he can suck a hickey onto your shoulder

the air of the kitchen is cold on your bare legs, but he's nice and warm and solid, and you lean back into him, eyes closing as he laves his tongue over your skin

a low purr emnates from deep in your chest, and you feel him pause at your back

'that's never happened before,'

'and?'

'it was kind of hot.'

you huff out a laugh, but it's cut off as he spins you around, gripping your chin so he can kiss you

dk kisses you passionately, like he woke up with the one desire to taste every inch of your mouth, his teeth grazing dizzyingly over your lower lip

he grins against you when you moan at the feel of his tongue against yours

hooking your arms over his shoulders, you draw him closer

picking you up, he deposits you on the island, not breaking the kiss

he slots himself between your legs, his fingers skimming over the tops of your thighs, pushing the hem of your shirt a little higher

hooking an ankle around his hip, you nestle your heel in the small of his back, nudging him closer

something in your stomach pulls wonderfully tight when you feel the grind of his hardening cock against your clothed cunt

he chuckles at the involuntary noise that leaves you, one of his hands coming up to cup your breasts as he leans down, palms dragging down the length of your thighs as he hooks them over his shoulders

he helps you shimmy out of your underwear, chucking them carelessly over his shoulder

and then, just like that, he's got his mouth between your legs, spreading your pussy with his fingers, his eyes disarmingly guileless

his tongue is divinely velvet as he sweeps it through your folds

he tastes you as if your essence is the nectar of the gods, teasing the pleasure out of your body, holding your trembling thighs up with his big hands

as you come, convulsing around his tongue, he looks up at you with stars in his eyes, as if you're a goddess

it's ridiculous, the way he can make your heart flutter while fucking eating you out like a man starved

he straightens, kisses you with honey drenched lips that bear a virtuous smile, and lifts you up in his arms so he can make love to you on the sofa

he makes your eyes roll, makes your toes curl, makes you cry his name, sets you alight with his touch

and when he sends you over the edge, coming with you, when he scoops you up in his arms, sets you on the bathroom sink to clean you up, when he kisses you in the shower, you know one thing

you are willingly trapped in his gravity; you orbit him as if he is the star at the centre of the universe, yet somehow he looks at you with a light in his eyes, like you are the sun, the warmth on his skin, the reason for life

you love this man, irrevocably so, and somehow, miraculously, he loves you back