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ellecdc · 4 months ago

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'Doctor' Sirius?

chef!Sirius Black x mixologist!reader who injures herself at work

The familiar ache in the middle of Sirius’ shoulder blades alerted him to the fact that he was officially half way through his shift.

He took a moment to straighten up, letting his arms fall lax beside his body as he pointed his face to the ceiling.

He could already hear Regulus berating him for his abysmal posture and Lily lecturing him about how he clearly hasn’t been doing the yoga routine that she sent him whilst James and Remus snickered at his expense.

He hated (loved) them all.

Almost as much as he hated how Jeffery kept showing up in his sodding kitchen.

“If you’re coming to try to pilfer one of my staff, you’re barking mad.” He spat angrily as he carried on in his sautéing.

“Uhm, I’m sorry chef, but I really need to borrow Caleb.” Sirius heard you reply as his cheeks immediately heated up in embarrassment.

“Dammit; sorry Y/N.” He apologized quickly, lowering the heat on his burner and turning to give you what he hoped was his most sincere (yet dashing) apologetic smirk.

The salacious comment he had prepared died on his lips when he noticed you looking a tad alarmed as you instructed Caleb to take over the bar for you.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked quickly, barely remembering to turn the burner off completely before he was making for you.

“I’m okay...” You offered, not sounding like you completely believed yourself.

“That’s not what I asked.” Sirius grumbled as he took in your form, noticing you holding a black bar towel in your fist; knuckles turning white from how hard you were holding it.

The black of the fabric may have hidden evidence of what had taken place prior to you entering his kitchen, but he could make a deduction from the blood collecting between your fingers as it began to drip down your knuckles.

“You’re hurt.” He surmised, pulling your hand toward him.

“I’m okay.” You offered again, this time in a whisper.

“Let me see it.” He instructed just as softly, encouraging the towel from your hands to expose a deep slice across the palm of your hand.

Sirius made an embarrassingly sympathetic cooing sound as he replaced the towel on your hand and applied pressure to the wound. “What happened?”

“Was slicing lemons.” You offered quietly, refusing to look at Sirius as you kept your gaze down towards where your hand was sitting in his.

Sirius tsked as he pulled your hand further into his chest as if proximity alone could heal it. “You have a kitchen full of well-trained staff and you thought to slice lemons on your own?”

You chuckled self-deprecatingly at that, but Sirius could tell your usual enthusiasm was dimmed. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“If anyone in my kitchen ever accuses you of being a bother, you tell me; got it?”

“Yes chef.” You answered quickly, and though you still wouldn’t look at Sirius, he could see a small smile grace the corner of your lips.

He would take it.

He realized then that his kitchen was far too quiet and looked up to notice that everyone’s attention was directed at the two of you.

“You lot can stare at people in your own time; get back to work.” He barked, causing everyone to quickly avert their gazes and carry on in their tasks.

“Bunch of sods.” Sirius mumbled as he turned back to you, fighting the urge to push some of your hair that had fallen from its elastic behind your ear.

“Come, we’ll get you fixed up.” He said quietly instead, ushering you out of his kitchen towards the office and – more importantly – the first aid kit.

Sirius shoved everything that looked like it might be of some importance to Jeffrey to the far edge of the desk and directed you to sit; fighting the urge to smile when he heard a few of Jeffrey’s things go tumbling to the floor.

“I’m rather miffed with you, you know?” Sirius murmured as he stood between your legs and began to unwrap the towel-turned-tourniquet from your arm.

“With me?” You asked with a chuckle, though it was perhaps more strained than usual.

“I have made quite the name for myself thanks to my fine slicing and chopping skills, and not only do you not give me the honour of showing those off to you, but you also go and hurt yourself whilst you’re at it.” He continued in his scolding as he poured some surgical spirit onto a square of gauze.

“S’gonna sting, doll.” He murmured quietly, waiting for your nod of approval before wiping at the wound.

Sirius could feel every muscle in your body tense as you let out a pained breath, and Sirius doesn’t think he can be held responsible for the sympathetic whispers and apologies that fell out of his mouth as he finished up when he had you – his formidable mixologist – sat so vulnerable and injured below him.

“I know, I’m sorry; you’re all done.” He assured you as he binned the now bloody gauze and moved to grab the antiseptic cream.

“So? What’s the verdict doc?” You tried to joke. “Think I can go back to serving drinks?”

Sirius furrowed his brow as he delicately placed a new square of gauze onto the palm of your hand that was quickly saturated with red-tinged ointment. “You are absolutely not cleared for work.”

You chuckled self-deprecatingly as your shoulders slumped. “Keep it elevated and rest, then?”

Sirius hummed noncommittally. “We’ll have to see what an actual doctor thinks.”

You whimpered at that, and Sirius paused in his wrapping of your hand to consider you.

Your brows were furrowed as you chewed aggressively on your lower lip and stared at Sirius’ work, mind seemingly miles away.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked as he taped off the gauze, though he never relinquished his hold of your hand.

“I think you did a good enough job, yeah? If I leave it be, it’ll be better in no time?” You asked him.

Sirius could tell that his responding grimace was answer enough to your question when your eyes quickly filled with tears. “Fuck.” You whispered as you hastily used your good hand to wipe at your eyes.

“I’m sorry doll.” Sirius murmured as he considered momentarily rushing to medical school so that he could fix this for you.

He wanted to fix this for you.

Alas, he was but a chef.

And soon, he was going to be a convicted felon charged with aggravated assault.

“Sirius, why is Caleb– what happened to my stuff?” Jeffery sputtered as he nearly hit Sirius in the back with the door.

“There’s been an incident, Jeffrey, your stuff is a little inconsequential at the moment.” Sirius sneered.

Jeffrey pursed his lips as he considered Sirius before his eyes moved to you. “What happened?”

“Cut myself whilst slicing lemons.”

“Have you filled out an incident report?” Jeffrey asked then.

“Christ, Jeffrey; the woman’s hand is still bleeding. Unless the form requires her signature in blood, maybe you can relax about your paperwork for a minute?”

“Are you going to need to leave?” Jeffrey asked you as he pretended Sirius wasn’t even there.

“I-”

“She needs stitches.” Sirius interjected plainly.

“Fuck.” Jeffrey muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. “So, Caleb’s going to need to man the bar for the rest of the evening?”

“Yes, and Charlie will have to man the kitchen.” Sirius responded as he all but shouldered past Jeffrey in order to grab his jacket.

“What?” You and Jeffrey chorused; Jeffrey in panic and you in bemusement.

“Charlie...” Sirius drawled slowly as he stared down Jeffrey and offering you his arm as he encouraged you from the edge of the desk. “You know? Weasley? Ginger hair? Has been working for me since he left school?”

“I know who Charlie is, Sirius.” Jeffrey spat.

“Oh, good. I was getting worried about you, mate.” Sirius said as he pat Jeffrey aggressively on the shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Jeffrey continued as he followed the two of you out of the office; Sirius’ hand at the small of your back as he ushered you through the halls.

“Taking her to the hospital.”

“Sirius, the-”

“Chef.” Sirius corrected harshly from the doorway of the kitchen; the room falling quiet as everyone turned to watch Sirius and Jeffrey stare each other down.

“Chef,” Jeffrey corrected, “the kitchen needs you here.”

“My kitchen and its staff are more than capable of surviving without me for a few hours. I have highly skilled and well-trained individuals here, do not insult them by insinuating they ought to be babysat.”

One could have heard a pin drop in the kitchen at the end of Sirius’ sentence.

When it became clear Jeffrey had no response, Sirius turned to the kitchen staff.

“Weasley.”

“Yes, chef?”

“Take over for me for the rest of the evening, yeah? Caleb will remain on bar so shuffle everyone around as you see fit; text me if you need anything. But don’t need anything.”

“Yes, chef.” Charlie answered quickly; a muted yet proud smile gracing his face as he nodded at his boss.

“Have a goodnight, guys.”

“Night, chef!” The rest of the staff called as Sirius guided you towards the back door to the parking lot.

The streetlights flickered as the two of you stepped out into the evening; Sirius relishing in the cool evening air against his kitchen-warmed skin.

“You don’t have to come with me, you know?” You said quietly.

Sirius turned to see you standing near the door of the restaurant; arms wrapped around yourself as you chewed your lip nervously.

“Would you cut that out?” Sirius sniped at you with no heat.

“What out?”

“Chewing on your lip; if you’re hungry I’ll make you food, if you want to bite lips, bite mine; but leave yours alone.” He scolded as he marched over and gently pried your lip from between your teeth.

“Wha- your lips? Are you offering me your lips, chef?” You asked slowly; eyes flitting from between both his before travelling down to his lips and back up again.

“I hardly think that’s surprising; I’m a very selfless person.” Sirius explained, emboldened by your reciprocal flirting to leave his hand cradling your jaw.

You hummed. “So that’s why you shoved all of Jeffrey’s stuff off the desk; you just didn’t want me bleeding all over it.”

“Quite right. God forbid we ruin Jeffrey’s things.”

You barked a surprised laugh at Sirius’ inability to utter Jeffrey’s name without sneering it like a curse word, causing him to laugh as well as he took a step backwards towards his car.

“Sorry doll; I can’t fix this for you,” he said as he gestured towards your injury with one hand as he opened the passenger door with the other, “but I can find you someone who can.”

You pretended to be tetchy with Sirius the entire way to the hospital, but he could see your ill-hidden smile through the reflection of the passenger window at his quips and shameless begging for your forgiveness.

You apparently had a thing about needles, and generally needing to be sewn up like some “moth eaten patchwork quilt”, which Sirius guessed wasn’t completely unreasonable. But by the third hour of waiting in uncomfortable plastic chairs in A&E, you were actually starting to get antsy.

“It’s like they don’t even want to use me as a pin cushion.” You muttered as you watched a coughing child get escorted down the hall.

“Do you think we ought to be worried?” Sirius murmured as he craned his neck to watch the child disappear down the corridor. “Not one person they brought back there has returned.”

You snorted rather inelegantly and sank further back into your chair. “I hope it’s nice, wherever they’re ending up...nicer than this.” You said as the light above you started to flicker ominously. “I bet they even have food.”

“Are you hungry?” Sirius asked quickly.

“Sort of; figure they’ve got a canteen here?”

This time, it was Sirius who snorted inelegantly. “We are not eating canteen food.”

“Sirius, you should go.” You tried again, ignoring Sirius’ warning glare seeing as the two of you had discussed (read: argued about) this four times already since arriving. “You’ve been working all evening, and you’re probably starved too.”

“I am starved too, and that’s something I can fix.”

“How exactly can you fix that if you’re not willing to order canteen food?” You deadpanned.

“Doll, we work at a restaurant.” Sirius explained earnestly.

You rolled your eyes as you let your head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Jeffrey might actually have an aneurism if you call in an order right now.”

Sirius was quiet for a few moments, and by the time you peeled your eyes open, he was standing on the opposite side of the hall with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Sirius!”

“Shush, Y/N; we’re in a hospital.” He scolded. “Jeffrey! Hi! It’s Sirius! Can you put Weasley on the line. Good chap, thanks.”

You watched as Sirius began pacing, counting a tile between each step as Charlie picked up the phone.

“Hey, I need you to make some food for pick-up; actually...make it delivery, please?” He corrected with a devilish smirk, watching as you brought your hand to your lips in a silent gasp.

And though this isn’t exactly how Sirius saw his first real meal with you (save the hastily shared plates during shifts), he couldn’t deny that this potluck style picnic in A&E felt like the beginning of something really special.

And If Jeffrey’s blood pressure skyrocketed from having to cover the bar so that Caleb could deliver it for him, well, that was just a bonus.

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zara-renata · 2 months ago

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Sylus gets a headache | ao3 | other fics in this 'series'

Summary: Sylus has secured the promise from you that he can use your place as a safe house if he's in the area and needs it. Sylus's definition of "need", it turns out, might be different than your own, as illustrated by the first time he shows up unannounced at your door.

Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, no use of y/n. This story contains: fluff, banter, Sylus has a hard time keeping his hands to himself, legal arguments, bad puns, self-indulgent writing, repetitive finger caressing, insomnia that Sylus is determined to vanquish by any means, Xavier is an innocent victim in all this and has no idea, except has Xavier ever been innocent in his entire life? CWs: insomnia, consumption of alcohol, profanity SFW, mostly. With some filthy innuendos at the end. It's Sylus, after all.

It has been a few days since you had the best night’s rest you can remember on the back of a certain miscreant crime lord’s motorcycle, and you’re once again preparing for a long, torturous night of staring at the ceiling and trying to catalogue all the classes of wanderers in an attempt to lull yourself to sleep—Nero’s suggestion. You have your doubts about whether it will work, but he gave the advice so earnestly after overhearing you talking to Tara about your insomnia that you feel obligated to give it a go. Sylus would probably scoff and say something about ‘people pleasing,’—you shake your head. That man does not get to live rent free in your brain, no matter how suspiciously kind he was the last time you saw him.

The kettle squeals, and you pour the boiling water into your chipped “World’s Greatest Hunter” mug that Caleb had gifted you once you were admitted into the Association’s ranks. The hot liquid steams soothingly into your face as it drowns a chamomile teabag, and you try not to think about the last time you saw him, when he was smiling. Patting your head. Whole, and so, so vibrantly alive. You take a deep, shaky breath.

After a suggestion from Tara, you add some honey and then slice a lime and squeeze the juice into the tea, absently stirring the spoon and gazing out your balcony window. You’re home early for once, and the sun is only just setting. You can’t see it through the high rises around you, but dusk filters down into the streets below your flat. The gentle sounds of the city moving into late evening drift up, the traffic like waves crashing on the shore, laughter and shop bells tinkling, a dog barking somewhere.

Suddenly, your doorbell chimes through your apartment and startles you out of your reverie. Did you forget that you had ordered something to be delivered today?

Without thinking too hard about it, you take your still piping-hot tea and pad to the foyer to answer the door.

Only to have your sense of calm shattered as you fling the mug out of sheer, instinctual self-preservation that Zayne accuses you of not having, when you see who is standing on the other side.

Quicker than your brain can actually process Sylus’s presence outside your flat, scarlet-night tendrils have prevented the mug from shattering on the floor, but have failed to stop the liquid from continuing its projectile path right onto his red, standing collar shirt and black vest.

“The fuck, Sylus?”

“You really, and I mean really, need to work on your greetings, kitten,” he tells you calmly, evol delivering the mug into his waiting hand while he holds the suitcase he has in the other hand away from his body to avoid being dripped on by his now soaked torso.

“Sorry, you were the last person I was expecting.” You wince, heart still threatening to beat its way out of your rib cage.

“Oh, expecting someone, are we?” he lifts a dark silver eyebrow.

“No, but least of all… you.” You flap your hand in his general direction. “What are you even doing here?”

“How about,” he drawls, “you let me in, and I’ll tell you. You wouldn’t want your neighbors to get curious and come to inquire about the mess I’m making on your doorstep, would you?”

You stare at him for a moment longer, trying to think of a way out of having him in your space, again, but you’re tired at the end of another long day, another long week, another long month and this whole entire fucking year. Trying to get rid of him will take more energy than just letting him do what he wants so that he’ll go away again. You run a hand down your face and shuffle aside.

He enters, and the scent of him fills the small foyer, warm and mouth-watering. He sets the briefcase and mug on the floor, removes his dress shoes and places them neatly by your own hastily-kicked-off boots next to the step leading into the rest of your flat. He then picks the mug back up and reads what’s written on it.

“World’s best hunter, indeed.” He snorts softly, eyes flicking from your face to your thin tank top and sleep shorts covered in grinning little bounce, bounce planet blobbus, to your bare feet. “Is this how the world’s greatest hunter always answers the door to unknown visitors?”

“It was a gift,” you say defensively, snatching the mug from him and cradling it to your chest. “And the only people who would be at my door this late is Xavier borrowing a cup of sugar for some doomed baking experiment, or a delivery person. I’m sure they’ve seen much worse than this,” you sweep your hand down your body in a dismissive flourish.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ve seen much worse.” Sylus frowns slightly.

“Yeah, so if they don’t like it, they’re welcome to move on to their next delivery.”

“Or buy their own sugar,” Sylus murmurs, reaching out to run a finger along your knuckles as you clutch the mug. “And who gave you this highly accurate mug?”

You hesitate, knowing that his face is going to do something complicated, like it always does, when you mention your family. But fuck it, he asked. If he doesn’t like the answer, he can also move on to whatever his next nefarious errand is. “Someone who was like a brother to me.”

“Brother, huh,” he says softly, still gently stroking your skin. “Well, he wasn’t wrong in this.” His hand falls back to his side. “Invite me all the way in, kitten. With your words,” he commands.

“And why should I do that? The deal was to let you come in. You’re in now. You don’t need to come in any further. Now it’s your turn to honor the deal. Why are you here?” You glare up at him, your foyer feeling minuscule with his big body and presence filling it.

“You offered me your place if I ever needed it,” Sylus narrows his glittering eyes. “I needed it today before you flung steaming liquid all over my clothes. And now I need it even more.” He looks pointedly down at the still-dripping clothes in question.

“What did you originally need it for?” You stall, the guilt of throwing a mug full—half! Half full! of tea at him starting to creep in.

“How about you invite me all the way into your home, with your words, help me take care of this mess you caused,” he waves a lazy finger at his torso, “and I’ll tell you.”

“But you already promised to tell me why you’re here in exchange for the initial value of me letting you in, and I let you in. I already paid. You can’t make me pay twice for the same goods,” you protest.

“Remind me to take you with me the next time I have contract negotiations. You’re more useful than my own legal counsel.” He pauses, considering you. “Circumstances have changed. Force majeure prevents me from fulfilling my original promise without requiring additional time and means to fulfil that promise. You owe me the opportunity to successfully deliver what I owe you.”

“What, exactly, is preventing you from telling me why you originally came to my home right here in my entryway?”

“The consequences of an unforeseeable natural disaster,” he answers with a little helpless shrug. “Namely, the trauma of nearly getting drowned in tea following almost being taken out by a mug launched with your god-like strength. Kitten, your assault is the equivalent of an act of god, and I can’t be responsible for the fact that I now need a dry shirt and a safe place to recover from the shock of almost being murdered by your tableware.”

You can’t help it. It has been so long since you’ve actually laughed out loud, so the noise that comes out of you doesn’t even sound human. You’re laughing, and you can’t stop. The affronted look on Sylus’s face in response to your ugly-snorts, causes you to laugh even more, and you’re suddenly bending over, holding your knees, laughing like you might die if you stop.

After a long moment, when you are finally able to breathe again, you straighten and find Sylus looking at you with a soft expression, one corner of his wide mouth slightly lifted… which is alarming. But you’re too filled with gratitude for the relief of laughing that his absurd exaggeration just gave you, so you refuse to think about anything at all too hard right now. You give in.

“Sylus, would you do me the honor of coming into my home? You can tell me what the hell you’re doing here after I find you a dry shirt.” You sarcastically bow as low as you can, your arms uplifted to gesture him forward.

“I suppose I can’t refuse such a graciously extended offer,” he says, as if resigned to a terrible fate, but his smile is smug and he wastes no time striding into your living room while unbuttoning his vest. He gently lays it over the back of your couch, and begins unbuttoning his shirt. You force yourself to stop staring as the pale skin slowly being revealed with each flick of his long fingers and head to your bedroom.

You paw through your chest of drawers, trying to find a shirt that will fit his broad shoulders and chest, but all you manage to do is make even more of a mess in your barely organized drawers. You stand, remembering the hoodie Xavier leant you after a recent, particularly messy battle on a chilly night. You move to your closet where you had hung it carefully to remind yourself to give it back to him after having washed it. You pull it from the hanger, turn around, and squeal loud enough to shatter glass.

Sylus is standing right behind you, chest bare, black slacks hung low around his narrow hips, and you did not heard him come in.

“I thought we were past the terror stage of our friendship, sweetheart,” he says, cocking his head, the same ruby stud earrings he was wearing at the club flashing in the light. “But that’s twice today that I’ve frightened you to the point of violence. Am I really that scary?”

“You keep… appearing, out of nowhere. A little warning would be appreciated,” you huff, heart pounding. You don’t know why you’re so nervous around him. Really. It has nothing to do with the broad expanse of creamy skin and pillowy man-tits shoved in your face at the moment. “And honestly, considering the fact that our friendship started with you choking me out and keeping me captive for days, it’s a wonder that I’m not more scared of you,” you flare, because yeah, how dare he act like you should be over the absolute shit-show of your first encounter, when you’ve hardly had any time to get to know him. That’s why you’re nervous. There is no other possible explanation. A couple friendly interactions do not make up for how much of an evil bastard he was when you first met him.

“Would you like me to wear a bell when I’m here, then?” he asks, conveniently ignoring the reminder regarding how he treated you not so long ago.

“How about you just stay out of my bedroom and stay where I can see you at other times,” you snap, feeling violent again at the intrusive thought of Sylus wearing a collar around his thick neck, cute little bell dinging every time he moved.

“I’ll do my best,” he says absently, clearly distracted by his thorough inventory of your bedroom as he takes in the tumbling plants in mismatched pots on floating shelves hanging over the unmade bed, the army of plushies scattered over the bunched up mountain of duvet and pillows. Your bed used to be your sanctuary. The place where you could find rest and relaxation after exhausting battles and long days squinting at the computer filing incident reports. Now it just gives you anxiety. You try to pull his attention away from the chaos of your former safe space by holding Xavier’s hoodie out for Sylus to take.

“Here, this might fit you.”

Sylus looks down at your offering, crosses his arms, and takes a step back, as if the hoodie is so offensive that it warrants recoiling physically from it. “That’s quite a big hoodie for you, even for days when you want to be comfortable,” he says evenly.

“It’s not mine, but it’s clean, and I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing I have right now that will fit you,” you say, shaking it a little in the universal, impatient gesture of just take it already for fuck’s sake.

“And who is its actual owner?”

“Xavier.”

“In the habit of wearing your partner’s clothing, are we?” he asks, still staring at it, the disdain now plain in his assessment of the sweatshirt.

“Uh, sometimes? We were on a mission recently and my jacket got torn to the point of uselessness, and it was cold. He let me wear his hoodie so I wouldn't be cold. It's been washed since then, so it's clean. I’ll just wash it again when you’re done using it before I return it. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

After what seems like a ridiculous amount of time for him to apparently make some mental calculations that only he will ever understand, he finally takes the soft hoodie from you, fingertips brushing yours as he grasps the fabric. You can’t figure out why he he suddenly looks more smugly evil than you’ve ever seen, with his lips curved up in a sardonic smirk. “Oh, of course, I’m sure he will not mind at all.” He pulls the hoodie over his head and shimmies a little as he drags it down is body; it’s a little tight around the shoulders, but you don’t think it’s tight enough to permanently stretch the fabric.

After it’s on, he tugs the collar up to his nose and inhales deeply.

“What are you doing?” you ask, as if you can’t see perfectly well what he is doing.

“It smells like you,” he answers, shameless, as if that is a perfectly reasonable answer to your question.

“Well, I did wear it, and wash it with my normal detergent and it has been hanging in my closet for a while, so…” your voice trails off.

“And soon it will smell like me too,” he continues, letting the collar fall with a satisfied flick of his fingers.

What even is this conversation? “Can you just be normal? For once?" A look of boredom is all the response you get, so you continue. "Now get out of my bedroom. Come tell me why you’re here in the first place.” You stride past him, making your way into the living room.

He follows you obediently and plops down on the couch, and just like last time, spreads his legs wide. This time, he is able to rest his arms on either side along the back of the couch, effectively occupying the whole damn thing. He sits quietly, looking at you expectantly.

You stand, arms folded, a safe distance away from the couch near the kitchen island.

“Well?” You prompt.

“It’s customary to offer your guest a refreshing beverage upon receiving them in your home. I believe I offered you wine the first time I hosted you in my own home.”

“Hosted?” He can’t be serious. “What a generous euphemism for ‘unlawfully imprisoned,’” you bite out.

“Po-tae-to,” he says serenely, “Po-tah-to.”

“Sylus,” you warn—about what, you’re not sure. He wants a beverage? Okay, perhaps you’ll fling more hot tea at him if he doesn’t start talking.

“Kitten.” He continues gazing at you, clearly in no hurry to move things along.

“If you don’t tell me, right now, why the hell you showed up at my place unannounced, I will report you as a burglar and have you removed by the authorities.”

“But then how will you explain to Xavier why I’ve been arrested wearing his sweater?” he asks, eyes wide, all concern for what your partner’s thoughts on the matter would be, and what they would mean for you.

“Burglars have been known to be creeps and go rooting through their victims’ closets and wearing their clothes! I’ll just say you were wearing it when I got here. Maybe he’ll be worried that it’s him you’re actually interested in harassing,” you snicker, trying to picture Xavier’s reaction.

As you’re speaking, Sylus pulls out his phone and fiddles with it with a bored expression on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I boring you? Perhaps you should go find something more interesting to do and leave me in peace,” you grind out after you’ve finished and notice his complete lack of attention.

Your irritation is interrupted by a notification on your phone. Since Sylus is so busy messing with his, you grab yours from where it has been lying on the counter since before Sylus interrupted your peaceful evening staring out into the city. You see that you have a new message from… the man currently oozing across the entirety of your couch, head lolled to the side and watching you with a hint of amusement curving his mouth.

You open the chat, and your eyes widen at the conversation that never fucking happened currently loading into your chat history, with time stamps corresponding to when Sylus showed up at your door.

You: Oh Sylus, my big, handsome partner in crime, I think there’s an intruder in my flat and I’m so scared!

The Sytuation: What makes you think theres an intruder in your home, kitten? Im on my way.

You: There is sugar missing from my pantry! I just bought a new bag yesterday, and it’s gone! Oh please, my dark knight, come protect me from the sugar thief who should buy his own sugar and stop coming to my place to pilfer mine!

The Sytuation: Of course, sweetie. Go wait by the door, Ill be there in 5.

“What. Is. This. Fuckery,” you demand, thrusting your phone in his face.

He shrugs. “You threatened to lie about why I’m here in a bid to get rid of me. Did you not expect me to counter your move to ensure that no one will believe you?” he pauses, and then narrows his eyes. "Did you really save me in your phone as 'The Situation,' with a Y?"

"Punny, right? My phone doubles as my work phone. You really think I'm going to save your real name in my contacts? I might as well just save you as 'Sylus Qin, leader of Onychinus, most wanted criminal in the N109 zone," you grumble. "And trust me, that's the nicest name I could come up with."

"Punny," he repeats derisively, unimpressed.

“And don't derail. What is this nonsense about a sugar thief?” You wave the phone again.

“Your colleague should learn to stock his own pantry if he wants to engage in… what did you call them? Doomed baking experiments?”

“How did you even… why does it look so real?” You gaze down at the texts that look so authentic that if they hadn’t been filled with such bullshit, you’d be doubting your own sanity about whether the conversation had really happened.

“You’re really surprised that faking evidence, alibis and dirt on my opponents is a part of my vast skill set? I’m hurt that you underestimate me so.” He looks at you like he’s disappointed, a little pout pulling down his stupid beautiful mouth.

“For fuck’s sake.” You’re done. The longer you resist, the longer Sylus will be in your flat, driving you up the wall. “Fine. Fine!” You set your phone down again and throw up your hands. “What do you want to drink, Sylus?”

“Two fingers of gin, if you have it. Or brandy. Or vodka.” He thinks for a moment. “I’m not feeling too picky tonight.”

“I don’t keep hard liquor in my house, you alcoholic. I have a half-open bottle of rosé in the fridge. Will that satisfy his lordship?” You turn resignedly to trod your way to your fridge.

“What vineyard and vintage?” he asks, perking up.

You open the fridge and pull out the bottle. You squint at the label. “I dunno. It has a cute fish on the label, so I bought it.”

He looks at you like you just murdered Mephisto, and you begin pouring the pink liquid into another mug. This one says UNT on the side in big block letters, matching the size of the handle so that when you hold it, the handle looks like a matching C. You walk back to where he’s sitting, and you think that maybe your smile looks as smug as Sylus’s usually does when you hand him his drink.

He takes the mug from you, snorts when he reads the side, and then look at its contents dubiously for a moment.

“You taste it first,” he finally says, looking back up at you.

“Worried I poisoned it?” You’re still grinning.

“As you say,” he says, tilting his head.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t demand beverages from people you don’t trust then.”

“I trust you, just not your taste in wine after learning you choose bottles based on the cuteness of the label. Indulge me,” he murmurs. “Prove to me that you’re willing to drink it, and that it’s not just swill you’re trying to get rid of by offering it to me.”

You take the mug from him and lift it to your lips, taking a sip, watching him over the rim as you swallow. His nostrils flair, and he lifts his hand in a gesture for you to return it to him. Instead of giving it back, you take one more big gulp, and his brow furrows. Only after you've slowly swallowed again do you comply, relishing the warmth spreading through your body as you lower the mug for him to take. He brushes your fingers again as he takes it back. He turns the mug, so that his mouth hovers where yours just was. He then closes his eyes and inhales, gently swirling the liquid inside. Eyes still closed, he takes a sip.

After a moment, he sighs. “Thank you. This is actually not bad, for a rosé.”

“You’re such a snob,” you smile down at him, irrationally pleased that he seems so pleased.

“Life is too difficult, and too short, to waste on inferior experiences. I only like tasting the best,” he says, bright red eyes opening and fixing on you.

He looks up at you like you should be able to draw some deeper meaning from his words, but you’re tired, warm from the wine, and despite how much he winds you up you were just moments ago, right now you’re strangely relaxed for the first time in days.

“Tell me why you’re here, Sylus,” you say quietly.

“You told me I could use your place when I needed it,” he says, just as softly. He takes another drink, rolls it around in his mouth. Swallows, his adam’s apple dipping.

“And why did you need it this evening?”

“I had some negotiations regarding a business acquisition that I’m considering in this part of Linkon City, and they were abhorrently boring. By the time they were over, I had a splitting headache, and the sunlight didn’t help. It would have been unsafe to operate a motor vehicle under those conditions, so I thought I’d come and wait for it to pass in my newest ‘safe house,’ he answers gravely, as if getting a headache was a perfectly logical reason to crash your evening and take over your couch. “Wouldn’t want to endanger the innocent citizens of Linkon City with reckless driving, now would we?”

“Aren’t all of your shady business deals done under the cover of darkness? Why were you here at a meeting during the day?”

He’s holding the mug in one hand by his fingertips now, along the rim, slowly swirling it. He crosses one long leg over the other and answers languidly. “You’re assuming that today’s business was ‘shady.’”

“So your business today was legitimate?” You’ve been standing for awhile now, and begin to shift from bare foot to bare foot.

He hums in acknowledgement. “My business interests are as varied as they are successful. You insult me by looking so surprised.”

“Well I would never want to insult you,” you drawl. “So that’s it? You got a headache and decided you’d crash my evening?”

He nods, touching his temple and grimacing. “It’s still pretty bad, to be honest.”

“The daylight bothers you that much?” you ask, genuinely curious. You have always assumed that it was the nature of his occupation and perhaps just a proclivity for being a night owl that explained his nocturnal existence, but now you’re wondering if it’s not something deeper that has him avoiding it as much as possible.

You finally decide to give your tired feet a break and perch on the little corner of couch cushion that has been freed for use by Sylus crossing his legs. “If sunlight bothers you that much, what could possibly be so important to come out in it today?”

“Are you really asking about the details of my business ventures, sweetheart?” he asks in what you suspect is feigned astonishment.

“And if I am?”

“Then I’ll tell you,” he responds easily.

“Then I am.”

“I’m in discussions for acquiring a chain of entertainment venues in Linkon City.” He leans his head on the couch’s backrest and lets it roll to the side to keep looking at you. He catches the look of disgust that is no doubt obvious on your face.

“Entertainment venues,” you say flatly.

“Yes. Is there something wrong with that?”

“What kind of … entertainment venues?” you ask, hating yourself for wanting to know. It’s his business if he wants to buy porn shops, or strip clubs, or brothels—your stomach twists, and you refuse to consider why.

“What kind of ideas are racing through that fascinating brain of yours?” he asks, reaching up and running two of his fingers along your temple, brushing your hair away from your eyes.

“Nothing,” you bite out, turning your face away from his touch. You normally dislike how you have a hard time concealing how you’re feeling, but you particularly hate it right now.

“Mmhmm,” he murmurs. “Then, to answer your question, it’s a chain of arcades.”

Your brain grinds to a halt. Did he just say—

“Arcades?”

He nods, and winces, closing his eyes. You’re starting to believe that his head is actually hurting him, and you feel bad for throwing dishware and hot tea at him and refusing to offer him more than the one drink he asked for.

“Why would you be interested in acquiring an arcade chain?”

“Even for odious crime lords, it’s always wise to have a diversified business portfolio.”

You have called him a lot of things both out loud and in your head, but you’d never call him odious. Odorous, perhaps, when he’s sweating heavily after being riddled with bullets. But you have to suppress the urge to chastise him about talking about himself that way.

“Which chain is it?”

“You probably don’t know it,” he says, as if bored with the question. “It’s not a very large chain, but large enough for my interests.”

“Try me! I love going to the arcade when I have some free time. I mean, you’ve seen my plushie collection now that you invited yourself into my house,” you bounce a little on the couch.

“You invited me, kitten. You’ve had a choice, each and every time.”

“Don’t deflect! Answer the question!” You’re quite excited about this. Maybe if it’s a place you know, that has a location nearby, he’ll give you a discount if he ends up buying them? Like an employee discount or something. Is that ethical? You should check the Association’s employee handbook for conflicts of interest.

He squints, as if preparing to evaluate your reaction, and names your favorite place to play the claw machine.

“For real? You’re really going to buy them?”

“I still have to review the contract that was proposed during today’s discussions with my legal counsel, but if negotiations are successful, then yes,” he says, casually examining his nails.

Your excitement is hard to contain, but you suddenly have a troubling thought. “You’re not going to change anything, right? Like, that place is perfect as it is, and the employees are all really friendly and helpful and clearly work hard to keep it really nice,” you rush out, worried that he’s planning to reduce the staff or try to jack up the prices for a larger profit margin.

He turns to look at you again, and doesn’t answer for long enough that you’re really starting to worry. But then he says softly, “No, I’m not going to change a thing.”

“Oh? So they’re doing well? It’s a solid financial investment?” You’re so relieved, safe in the knowledge that your plushies will continue to be accessible, insofar as claw machines by design allow them to be.

Sylus laughs softly. “Yes, the financials all look good. Considering your interest in the nature of binding agreements, would you like to look over the purchase agreement with me? I have it with me.”

“I’d actually really like to, but I’m starting to get really tired,” you yawn, the relief you were just feeling—the relief of knowing that Sylus wasn’t up to anything that would leave a blood trail today, relief that he didn’t come tonight to try to force you to resonate or finally kill you for refusing to do so, and most importantly, relief that he wasn’t going to acquire and ruin one of the little pleasures in your life—all of it is now drowned out by a heavy feeling of pleasant drowsiness.

“Then I’ll read it to you, until you fall asleep.”

“Huh? You want to stay?”

“Yes,” he says, hauling himself to his feet and offering you his hand. You take it in confusion, and he lifts you to your feet as well. He sets the now empty mug on your coffee table, and then places his hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you from behind to your bedroom.

“Why?” you ask, not even thinking to object.

“Headache, remember?” He pushes you gently by your shoulders so that you’re sitting on your bed.

“How can you review legalese when you’re suffering from a headache?” You sink into the softness of the mattress.

“Why don’t you let me worry about that?” he says, nudging you until you’ve scooted to the middle of the bed. “Don’t move. I’m going to get my tablet out of my briefcase.” He disappears through the doorway, and you’re left sitting on your bed, surrounded by all of your plushies, and you have no idea what’s happening. You’re just too tired to argue with him. You really did miscalculate by spending all of your energy trying to get rid of him when he first arrived.

But just because you’re bone-tired, doesn’t mean you’re going to let him boss you around. You get off the bed and pad into the kitchen, passing him as he snaps his briefcase shut, tablet in hand.

“I distinctly recall telling you not to move,” he gripes, pushing up an elegant set of gold framed glasses perched on the uneven bridge of his nose with a middle finger. Huh, you didn’t know he needed glasses to read. He looks almost … cute wearing them, a little less feral. Like a leopard wearing a monocle.

Suppressing the thought of Sylus and cute in the same sentence, you ignore him, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. Then you rummage through your most chaotic kitchen drawer for a few moments, before triumphantly pulling out what you were looking for.

You pad back over to where he’s still watching you, and offer him the glass and the half-used blister pack of over-the-counter painkillers you fished out of your chaos drawer. “Here.”

He looks down at your hands, offering him what you hope is some relief from his headache. His face is impassive, and you’re worried he assumes you’re trying to poison him again. But then he tucks the tablet under one arm, and reaches out with both hands to grasp the glass and the pill pack—except he doesn’t take them from your hands. He envelops yours with his, and pulls you gently closer to him. He somehow manages to pop two tablets out of the pack with his thumb, and they drop into your curved palm. Still holding your hand, he leans down to sweep them from your skin with his tongue. In a complete daze, you watch him lift the glass that you’re still holding to his lips, and he takes a long pull of water, washing the pills down, all the while holding your gaze with his. When he’s done, he slowly lowers your hands again.

“Thank you,” he murmurs “For the benevolence of your heart.” He says it gravely, as if you’ve just saved his life instead of giving him some headache medicine.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper, feeling like you’ve been struck by a truck after… whatever that was, feeling the warmth of his tongue in the palm of your hand like he was still licking it. Sylus then turns and heads back to your bedroom.

You set the glass and the now-empty pill pack on the kitchen island, thinking you’ll clean up tomorrow if you manage to sleep tonight, and follow him.

In the bedroom, Sylus sits, leaning back against your headboard, having needed to gently scoop some plushies out of the way to make room. He stretches his legs out in front of him with a sigh. He looks so soft, wrapped in the white hoodie, silver hair rumpled, surrounded by pillows and cute little plushies.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to remember that the man currently sinking into your duvet and wiggling his sock-covered toes in contentment is the same man who straight up exploded the man who dared kidnap you, and then proceeded to kidnap you himself after choking you to the point of passing out. You try to hold both of these truths about him in your mind at the same time, but the image of Sylus dancing you gently through a press of bodies, of the way he caresses your fingers at every opportunity, the soft slide of his tongue along your palm—these images are conquering every other version of him that you know to be true in your mind. You wonder briefly if this is part of some larger scheme of his, and what his endgame could possibly be. But right now, you’re too fucking tired to care.

“What is even happening,” you ask. You’re exhausted, but you still have enough mental reserves to question how you got here, in this situation, with this man migrating from vanquishing your couch to a large part of your bed. “Is the coffee table, or kitchen table insufficient for your needs? Why are you going to review the paperwork here, on my bed?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how quickly you fell asleep on my back on the motorcycle the other night, sweetheart. I’m just reading you a bedtime story featuring limitations of liability and allocation of risk so that you can finally get some sleep again.” He pats his thigh. “Here.”

You just stare at him. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he warns, tapping his thigh again with one long finger. Just for that, you glare mutinously at him and fold your arms over your chest.

He sighs again, this time in exasperation, and leans over, firmly lifting you and setting you down so that your head is pillowed against his meaty thigh. He begins to run his fingertips gently up and down the middle of your back. He returns his attention to his tablet. “Now listen carefully,” he commands, before flicking the screen with his thumb and beginning to read in his softly in his deep, rich voice.

But of course you don't. You fall asleep as the skyscrapers light up like a dragon's hoard of jewels in the night sky outside your window, to the sounds of Sylus’s quiet recitation of indeed, a terribly boring contract, and the whisper of his fingers along your skin.

When you wake up, there is another black feather on your pillow, and you are alone. You yawn, once again feeling unbelievably rested despite the chaos Sylus always brings to your door and into your life. You stretch leisurely, spreading your arms wide and turning your head on the pillow, when something catches in your earlobe. You reach up and run your fingers along a stud earring that was not there when you fell asleep. You feel your other earlobe, but it's empty. You grab your phone from the nightstand, knocking over a semiautomatic hand pistol with scarlet flames engraved along the grip that you also don't remember owning onto the floor. You stare at it briefly, ready to commit murder if you check it and find that the safety isn't on. But first things first: you put the phone camera in selfie mode and lift it to your face, but quickly lower it again after confirming that it is indeed a ruby stud in your ear, sparkling cheekily in the morning sunlight.

Later, you're relieved to find that Sylus did actually leave the safety on on your new little ... toy, and you'll find that the mugs have been washed and set neatly away, the empty pack of painkillers placed in the recycling bin. You also see that various takeout containers and other debris that had piled up on a lot of surfaces in your place are also gone, and the countertops are clean, the coffee and kitchen table gleam in the early morning sunlight. You don't notice that the white hoodie is nowhere to be found, until you meet up with Xavier later in the day. He's wearing one that looks exactly like it.

"Thanks for returning the hoodie," he yawns. "But you really didn't have to."

You pause, feeling a thread of panic start to wind its way through your stomach. You decide to just... go with it. "Oh? You found it okay?"

"Yeah, but why did you just leave it hanging from my door handle? You could have rung and come in. I had a new limited edition bag of those cookies you were looking at in the corner store last week. I would have shared some with you... but now I've eaten them all," he admits sheepishly, big blue eyes shimmering with guilt.

You try to think fast. Did Sylus give back the hoodie without washing it? What the fuck was he thinking? He could have been seen! Does this flat have surveillance footage? Does Xavier suspect anything? You realize that you still haven't answered Xavier's question as your panic spirals. "Oh, you know, didn't want to wake you up," you flap your hands, as if you can flap this entire situation right out of your messy life.

"Well, I don't know what you did to it, but it feels brand new. As if it's never even been washed. And you somehow got out the bbq sauce stain that no matter how much I sprayed it with that stain remover stuff would never come out. So you're going to have to teach me some of that laundry magic," he says contentedly, snuggling further into the entirely new hoodie that you now realize Sylus must have somehow, over the course of the night, had hand-delivered to Xavier's place. "Uh huh," you say absently, pulling out your phone to furiously text Mr. Asshat when you see that he has also changed his name in your contact list.

You: What the hell did you do with Xavier's hoodie?"

My Sy: It doesnt matter who it belonged to before me. All that matters is that its mine now.

You: It doesn't even fit you properly! You're too big for it!

My Sy: Nothing a little size training cant fix.

Your jaw drops. He cannot be implying what you think he's implying. This is your filthy mind at work. You decide that you will simply pretend this conversation never happened. Absolutely nothing good can come from trying to figure out what the fuck is going through Sylus's head at any given moment.

You: And 'My Sy?' Really?

My Sy: Its not punny, but it rhymes. And its accurate. Gotta put the phone down for a bit, kitten. Business requires my attention. Ill be seeing you soon.

You stare at his last message for long enough that Xavier asks if you're okay. You're not. You're not okay. You couldn't even bring yourself to ask him about the other earring, or the gun. You just slowly slip your phone back into your cargo pants pocket and try very hard to stop thinking, for the rest of the day.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #love and deepspace fanfiction #my fanfic #did i spend time in glint just to make a photo of sylus touching his temple for this post #to go with today's theme #yes your honor #i hope someone finds this enjoyable #i'm having fun writing and fixating on this king

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snowballseal · 20 days ago

Text

Them as supernatural creatures (LaDS)

Summary: This is my take on what supernatural creature each guy would be. They're pretty long, and either a fic where reader discovers what they are or a domestic moment they share together.

Rafayel - kitsune

Zayne - vampire

Xavier - guardian angel

Sylus - demon

Word Count: all roughly 1500 words

Note: These honestly came out soooo much longer than I expected. I might add a fic for Caleb, cause honestly, I'm really warming up to him. What supernatural creature should he be?

I'll probably come back and edit later, so let me know if you catch any mistakes!

---

Rafayel / Kitsune

“Rafayel…” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?! They deserved it,” Rafayel defends himself as he flops down onto the couch.

“That doesn’t mean you can screw with people whenever you want,” you chastise softly and sit next to him, “You’re supposed to keep your identity a secret.”

Rafayel gives you a pout. Letting out a dramatic huff, he falls over into your lap, stretching out lazily instead of giving you any kind of response. You bite back a laugh, his weight pressing you into the couch, effectively trapping you as he makes himself comfortable. It takes everything in you to not give in to his usual cute tactics, the concern gripping your chest not quite letting go.

“Seriously, Raffie, it could be dangerous,” you continue, worry seeping into your voice.

“It’s fiiine,” he sighs, ocean eyes glinting up at you with amusement, “You worry too much, cutie. You wouldn’t even know if I hadn’t told you.”

“Still-”

“Nope, no more worrying,” he cuts you off quickly, reaching up to pinch both your cheek with a teasing, cheshire grin, “Miss Bodyguard is off duty now. This spirit wants his girlfriend to cuddle with him.”

Swatting at his hands, you can feel a blush creeping up your neck. Sometimes it still surprises you how care-free he is, like nothing could ever touch him. Which maybe he’s right. And you know he’s never going to stop his antics. Still, you worry. It’s a part of your nature, wanting to protect people, especially the ones you love, especially him.

But Rafayel is persistent, coaxing you to relax with playful touches and banter. He knows exactly how to unwind you, and how to rile you up, every button, every nerve. You feel almost powerless to resist, to hold onto your lingering doubts. And it’s not even his powers, it’s just Rafayel, your Rafayel.

And of course you give in. With a weak sigh, you settle into the couch, your fingers finding their way into his curls to calm what’s left of your frazzled nerves. Rafayel hums, low and content, his eyes flickering shut as he arches up into your touch like a cat.

“Do you want to stop hiding your ears?” You ask quietly, something warm and tender winding through your ribs.

Rafayel lets out another low rumble, eyes opening a fraction to look up at you suspiciously, “You know, sometimes I wonder if you like my ears more than you like me. That wouldn’t be true, now would it, cutie?”

“Of course not,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Mhm, sure.” A small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, because of course he knows that you do truly love him for him, but the fox does love his games.

It’s almost unnoticeable, the way he dismisses his transformation magic. Every time you can’t help but watch, fully enraptured by the change. A pair of soft ears flicker up from his hair, as if they were simply hiding in his curls the whole time. And his tails. You blink, and suddenly they appear, fluffy and plush, the same color as his hair. They curl around you, as if seeking out your warmth, the same way Rafayel turns to nuzzle into your stomach. The spirit gives a happy rumble when you rub his ears, pressing impossibly closer.

“You have no idea how irritating it is to hide them all the time.” His voice comes out muffled by your sweater, his ears flicking back before pressing to your fingers again. “I imagine it’s how you humans feel when you wear itchy clothes.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” you agree, “I’m glad you don’t have to hide them around me anymore.”

“You’re the first human I’ve allowed to see my true form in a long time, ya know.”

Your heart flutters a little at that. It’s a fact you’re well aware of, and one you try to never take for granted. It had taken a long time for Rafayel to share this with you.

Ever since you met in the park, you knew something was different about him. He was beautiful, after all. More beautiful than you thought a person could be. And there was always something about his smile, something that set you on edge but also drew you in. The mischievous glint in his eyes never wavering, the almost unnatural grace he moves with, even the way he talks, as if he remembers times long gone by.

It all clicked when he finally told you. When he showed you his true form. A fox spirit. Everything made complete sense, but also no sense at all in that moment. First, you couldn’t comprehend it. Wanderers, yes, those you could wrap your head around. Mystical fox spirits? No. No, that took a few days to really settle in.

Still, it was Rafayel. It was always Rafayel. And the moment he came to you after those few days of distance, tentative and quiet in a way you had never witnessed from the artist, you made your decision.

A life without him wasn’t possible. Not for you. Not with how you had fallen in love with him.

“So, tell me again why you tricked those guys into thinking a bear was chasing them?” You ask, tone fond as you continue to rub the soft fur on his ears.

Rafayel huffs, rolling on his back to meet your gaze more easily. The swirling colors of his eyes gleam with that familiar mischief, his canines flashing sharply in a dangerous grin, “They were hunting for sport, so I showed them what it’s like to be hunted.”

He really is scary sometimes, you think to yourself, biting back a smile.

“I’m sure they’ll think twice about hunting in your woods again.”

“They better,” he snips, “If I catch them again I’ll send a real bear after them.”

“I’m sure the forest thinks you’re quite a good guardian, mister fox spirit,” you tease, ruffling his hair fondly.

Rafayel suddenly shifts, and in the blink of an eye he’s leaning over you, his arms braced against the couch on either side of your head. You freeze, eyes going wide as you look up at him, pulse racing in your ears. The fox spirit leans down, nose brushing yours, that same dangerous smile pulling at his lips.

“And what do you think, miss hunter?” He asks, breath warm against your lips.

A lump forms in your throat, making it hard to speak, to even breathe with him this close. And Rafayel can tell, his eyes narrowing with amusement. He lifts one hand, fingers tracing delicately along your cheek so you feel the faint edge of his claws.

“What? Fox got your tongue?” He all but taunts, leaning closer. His eyes slowly trail down to your lips, his grin widening. “I could show you what that really feels like if you want.”

…

Heat flares across your cheeks. You gape at him, shock mixing with embarrassment mixing with something you don’t want to admit to. Did he just say what you think he did?

Rafayel keeps his cool facade for only a few more seconds before he cracks, bursting into a fit of laughter. You stare at him, blinking wildly, brain slowly catching up with it all. And then you’re shoving him.

“Rafayel!” You squeak, and he only laughs harder, which in turn, makes you more flustered. “You’re such a- I can’t believe you! God, you’re insufferable.”

The artist catches your hands when you go to hit him again, his ocean eyes crinkling along the edges. Snickering softly, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your angry pout.

“Sorry, my bride,” he hums unapologetically against your lips, pressing a scattering of chaste kisses along your pink cheeks. “It felt like the best way to change the subject.”

“My lover is such a sadist,” you grumble, trying to turn away from him. It’s difficult to keep pouting when he showers you in such soft affection. “My poor heart can’t take this, you know.”

Rafayel cups your face, drawing you back to face him so he can press another kiss to your lips, this one tender and gentle and slow. And just like before, you’re powerless to resist him. Your fingers brush against his neck as you return the kiss, letting the warmth of his touch wash over you. Everything about him is so addicting, so enthralling, like you could get lost and never find your way out. It almost scares you, how much you’re willing to lose for this man.

Eventually Rafayel draws away, if only to let you catch your breath, still teasing you, “Now do you forgive me, cutie?”

“Hmm, I guess so,” you sigh, pretending to be appeased. Your fingers trail innocently up into his hair, until you’re close enough to give his fluffy ear a playful pinch. Rafayel squawks and pulls away, giving you the most dramatic look of betrayal. Grinning, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Okay, now I definitely do.”

Rafayel whines, reaching up to rub his ear, “Who’s the sadist now?”

“Watch it, or I might just pull your tail.”

“Okay, okay, we’re even…Now can we cuddle?”

---

Zayne / Vampire

You’ve known Zayne practically your whole life. Well, all of your life that you can remember, at least. He’s always been something constant, if not distant at times. And while you never assumed you knew everything about the doctor, you thought you knew more than most.

That is, until you wander into his office one day to find him passed out on the floor.

“Zayne?” You freeze in the doorway to his office, eyes blowing wide.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t show a single sign of life. Fear sinks deep into your bones, wraps around your lungs like a noose. And then your legs are moving. Your shoes desperately try to grip the tile as you dash across the room, panic dulling the throb in your knees as you drop to the ground beside him.

Pulse. You need to check his pulse. And his breathing.

Hands shaking, you press your fingers below his jaw, only to inhale sharply at the shock of how cold his skin is. Like ice. Too cold. No one should be this cold. And you can’t find a pulse. You skim your fingers down his neck, looking, looking, but still nothing.

Leaning over the still doctor, you press your ear to his chest and wait. Your lungs start to ache from how you desperately hold your breath, but it’s nothing compared to the terror gripping your heart. Because you hear nothing. Nothing at all.

You draw back, lips parting, ready to call out for someone, anyone.

Until a hand clamps firmly over your mouth.

A surprised scream escapes you, muffled by cold fingers, as you find yourself flipped, a hand holding the back of your head to prevent it from hitting the ground. Chest heaving, you draw a fist back, ready to fight back against your attacker, only to freeze when your eyes meet a pair of hazel ones.

Zayne.

Relief washes over you. Quickly followed by confusion. You quickly push his hand away, brow knitting together.

“What the hell, Zayne?” You bark, pushing yourself onto your elbows.

The doctor quickly backs away, resting back on his haunches. You take a moment to look him over, worry still clinging to your bones. He’s pale, somehow more pale than usual at least. Dark shadows rest under his eyes, which appear almost bleary as he gazes back at you. He looks exhausted.

Dead, even.

“You weren’t breathing,” you whisper, getting to your knees so you can check his temperature again. “Your heart wasn’t beating. I checked. What happened? How are you awake right now?”

Zayne grimaces, flinching away from your touch, and you freeze.

A deafening silence fills the office. It’s an odd stand-off, you staring him down, confusion burning behind your gaze, while he does everything he can to avoid it. For a split second, though, you see something you’ve never seen in the doctor. Uncertainty.

“Zayne?” You call again, voice going soft, “Talk to me. Please.”

Zayne hesitates, seemingly debating in his head before he speaks, his voice a low rasp, “I apologize for scaring you. That must have been startling to walk in on.”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, slowly making your way closer to him, “I’m more concerned about you right now. You were dead. At least, I thought you were. So what happened?”

Another beat of silence.

“I must have lost consciousness from exhaustion. I haven’t slept much the past few days,” he tries, but even to your ears, it sounds like a weak excuse.

“Zayne, your heart wasn’t beating. You-” You press a hand to his chest, perhaps to prove a point, perhaps to knock some sense into him. To do something.

Except his heart still isn’t beating.

You're paralyzed. Eyes locked on his chest. Confusion creeps over you, like tendrils of ice spreading through your chest. Sharp. Suffocating. This isn’t right. This can’t be real. It can’t.

Zayne lets out another sigh, this one resigned and tired. Like he’s finally given up. His cold fingers gently cover yours. He draws your hand away from his chest, though he never lets go of it.

“I suppose there’s no hiding it anymore,” he murmurs, voice stiff, like how he speaks when he’s working. “Come, let’s sit on the couch. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable there.”

You don’t say a word as he helps you to your feet. You can’t. Your tongue feels like a dead weight in your mouth. And even if you could talk, you don’t know what you would say. A million questions rush through your head, so blurred that you can’t pick out a single one, except-

“What are you?”

It echoes in your head raucously as you take a tentative seat on the couch. Zayne’s lips press into a tight line, and he clears his throat.

“That depends. There are many names for my condition.” His leg bounces ever so slightly as he continues, eyes still not meeting yours. “Though I suppose the most common term is vampirism.”

Vampirism.

You blink.

And blink and blink.

Vampire. He’s a vampire.

A vampire?

“Those aren’t real,” you immediately breathe out, mind racing.

A humorless smile pulls at the doctor’s lips, “I assure you, it is. I’ve suffered from the symptoms for as long as I can remember.”

A vampire. He’s a vampire. Your childhood best friend is a vampire.

“How did I not notice?” You all but squeak, examining him with this new information.

Sure, he’s pale, but Zayne’s always been pale. And it’s not like he avoids the sun. Aren’t vampires supposed to be weak to the sun or something? Plus, he’s aging, isn’t he? A million new questions race through your mind.

“Wait, do you have fangs?!”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re touching his face, basically making him open his mouth. Zayne startles, brow raising at your brazenness, but he does nothing to stop you. At first, his teeth look normal, the only thing worth noting being the excellent care he’s given them. But then you notice it. His canines seem to sharpen, just a touch longer than they should be.

And that’s all the proof you need.

“You’re a vampire,” you breathe, fingers settling along his jaw.

Zayne watches you carefully, waiting for some kind of reaction. Horror. Fear. Anger. All of those would be appropriate. But you don’t show any of them. Instead, you look at him with a mixture of disbelief and…curiosity?

Brow knitting together, Zayne reaches up to touch your wrist, just to check your pulse to make sure you haven’t gone into some sort of shock. Your pulse is steady though, if not a little accelerated.

“You’re not…frightened? Of me?” He asks slowly, confusion gleaming in the depths of his eyes.

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break out across your features, “No, Zayne, I’m not scared of you. I probably should be, but hey, I fight wanderers for a living. Do I have a lot of questions? Yes. But if you’ve really been like this since we were young, that means you’re not going to suddenly do something to me now, right?”

Your lack of concern should be worrying, but Zayne finds the tension is his shoulders slowly dripping away. Of course you would surprise him like this. You’ve always been too trusting, in his opinion, though he’s not about to correct you now.

“So, do you drink blood? I’m guessing you don’t hurt people, considering how strictly you follow your oath.” Head tilting, you give him a questioning look, eyes wide and almost innocent in their curiosity. “So where do you get it from? Blood bags? I’ve read that in a few books. Or animals? I’ve read that, too. How accurate are all those stories?”

“I could answer your questions if you slow down,” Zayne murmurs, fighting an amused smile. “I assure you, we have plenty of time.”

You flush, biting off the rest of your questions. Right. You’re not really giving him an opportunity to answer, are you? So where do you start?

“What is your first question?” The doctor prompts, thumb brushing calmly over your pulse.

“Hmm. The blood question. Do you have to drink it?”

“Yes,” he answers, though his voice rings with distaste, “I have to consume some form of blood every few months to keep my senses about me. I’ve perhaps waited too long this time.”

“Do you need some right now?” You press, brow furrowing.

Zayne hesitates. His lips pinch together again, a sign you recognize.

“No.”

“Liar. That’s why you passed out,” you accuse, though you keep your voice somewhat gentle.

He says nothing for a long moment, a mixture of guilt and discomfort crossing his features. Sighing softly, you give his cheek a light pinch.

“Zaaayne.”

“I’ve tolerated longer periods than this between feedings,” he murmurs, trying to sound dismissive, though you can hear the exhaustion creeping back into his voice, “My body must simply be enduring higher levels of stress due to the season. As long as I rest more, I’ll be fine until my next supply arrives.”

“Oooor,” you hum, hesitating only a moment before you offer, “You can draw some of my blood. Just enough to get you through till then. We know it’s clean since you always run so many tests on it, so that shouldn’t be a concern right?”

Zayne blinks in surprise. Even if you were taking this all well, he certainly wasn’t expecting you to make such an offer. But you meet his gaze, unwavering, expectant, mind already made up.

If his heart were beating, he’s sure it would stutter.

While he hates his condition, hates what he has to do to appease it, he can’t deny that the smell of your blood has always been tempting to him. Cloyingly sweet, like the sweetest dessert.

He should say no. He should just endure, as he always has.

But the determination in your eyes makes him waver. And Zayne is a weak man when it comes to anything related to you.

“It’s not advisable…” He starts, jaw tightening.

You perk up, not actually expecting him to consider it. It was a crazy idea after all, but you want to help. You hate the idea of him suffering by choice when you can do something about it.

“But…?”

“But I am not completely opposed to the idea,” he concedes, almost looking ashamed.

“Good,” you chirp, a smile lighting up your face as you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Then let’s get to work, doctor.”

God, you would be the death of him.

Well, if he were fully alive, that is.

---

Xavier / Angel

“How is it that you seem to find danger wherever you go?” Xavier murmurs, voice as even as ever, yet cradling a hint of exasperation.

Biting back a smile, you keep your attention focused on his fingers. They work with a practiced precision to bandage the laceration on your arm, adept from the years of dressing your wounds. It has become a near weekly occurrence because of your work. Getting hurt is an unfortunate side effect of being a hunter.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so reckless if I didn’t have such a sweet angel to take care of me afterwards,” you hum, tone bordering on teasing.

Xavier’s ears flush a soft pink, his wings ruffling in some kind of indignation, which only makes your smile stretch wider. He’s always so easy to fluster, and his wings give him away every time. It makes you want to tease him even more, but when you go to do exactly that, all that escapes you is a low hiss when he swipes a pad of alcohol across another of your cuts.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his thumb brushing tenderly along your knuckles.

“S’okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath, “Just stings. I hate the shallow ones more than the actual cuts, you know?”

Xavier gives a low hum, neither agreeing or disagreeing. You’re sure he would prefer you avoid all physical injury, but that is an argument the angel lost a long time ago, not long after you first met. And what a day that was.

Xavier came into your life in a flash of light. Literally.

You remember the day with quite a bit fondness despite how horrible it was. Everything had gone wrong that day. Exams were kicking your butt, as was training for the Association. To say you were down in the dumps was an understatement, which is why you had been out in the woods, trying to enjoy a bit of silence.

That is, of course, when a wanderer decided to appear.

You did your best to handle it, but you were still just in training at the time, and it was clear you were outmatched. Things would have taken a turn for the worse if Xavier hadn’t shown up.

All you really remember is seeing a blinding light, almost like a flashbang, and then there he was. Ethereal, face set with stone-cold focus, hair silvery white like a star, but most striking were the large wings stretching from his shoulders, impossibly white, the edge of each feather glinting like a knife. With a flourish of his sword, he clashed with the wanderer, killing it in seconds.

In that moment, you were convinced you were dead. That made a lot more sense than what you were seeing, after all - an angel. Sure, he didn’t have the halo, but what else could he be? And how could you be seeing an angel if you weren’t dead?

It took him kneeling down in front of you, eyes sharp with concern as he scanned your entire body for injuries, for you to realize you were, in fact, not dead. And that’s when the questions started.

“Who are you?”

“What are you?

“Where did you come from?”

Xavier being Xavier, he danced around each answer. And you being you, you didn’t relent until you got the answers you wanted.

Not only is he an angel, he’s a guardian angel, and you’ve become his charge. And since he revealed himself to you, he can’t go back to his realm without getting in serious trouble.

That’s how you ended up here, with an angel as your roommate. What else were you supposed to do with him? The man was like a lost puppy with wings. Sure, he can take down a wanderer like it’s nothing, but ask him to work a toaster and he’ll sit there for about an hour just staring at the thing. You couldn’t leave him to fend for himself.

And it was the best decision of your life, really. Not only has he become your best friend, but maybe something more.

“I do wish you would stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger,” Xavier rumbles suddenly, pouting a little bit as he examines your now bandaged hand.

“It’s not unnecessary,” you chime softly, slipping your hand from his to poke his cheek playfully. Satisfaction curls in your chest at the blush that spreads across his beautiful features, his pout only growing cuter. “If I don’t put myself in danger, then other people will, and then innocent people can get hurt.”

“Being so selfless could get you killed,” he sighs, rising to his feet, wings flaring behind him.

Your eyes follow him, steady and warm, head craning up to hold his gaze, “I’m perfectly capable of staying alive, Xavier. And if I’m ever in trouble, I know you’ll be there to help me.”

The angel huffs. You’re not wrong, as much as he’d like to argue. What was once just a job to him, a responsibility, is now something more, something carved deep into his soul. Every fiber of his being longs to keep you safe, even if it means breaking every rule he once followed. Even if it means he must fall some day.

Ignoring that thought, Xavier settles onto the bed next to you, letting out a heavy sigh as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His hair brushes your neck, soft and ticklish, drawing a light giggle from you as you curl your arms around his shoulders.

“You really shouldn’t worry so much, starlight.”

“You make it incredibly difficult not to,” he grumbles, voice low and muffled, “I just want to keep you safe…”

“Hmm, such a sweet angel,” you hum and card your fingers through the feathers at the base of his wings.

Xavier holds back a shiver, his body arching into your delicate touch. His wings have always been sensitive, especially when you’re the one touching them. You don’t miss the way his blush spreads down his neck, or the way his wings instinctively curl around you, as if they can block out the rest of the world, as if to make a space just for the two of you. The smile that pulls at your lips is overwhelmingly fond, just like your touch.

You love the feeling of his feathers under your fingers. At first glance, they look almost sharp, but they’re surprisingly soft, downy and warm to the touch. Without thinking, you trail your fingers along the curve of his wing and fix any out of place feathers with the utmost of care. Xavier lets out another, shaky sigh, his eyes flickering shut.

It’s a soft moment. Everything else is muted, the only sound being that of your steady breath and his lazy, content hums. Xavier nuzzles even closer to you, his body impossibly warm, his weight too much for you to support. A giggle escapes you as you lean back onto the bed, the angel settling on top of you without an ounce of shame in his expression.

“I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re actually a cat disguised as an angel, “ you tease, reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips. He leans into your palm without hesitation.

“Being a cat wouldn’t be so bad,” he murmurs, as if he’s given the idea some thought before. “I’d get to sleep all day and eat whenever I want instead of chasing a certain, reckless hunter around.”

He nips at your finger lightly, but your smile doesn’t waver.

“I think you’d get bored eventually.”

“Is that so?”

“Yah. I think you enjoy chasing me around, you just don’t want to admit it,” you chirp, tilting your head innocently, “And you’d miss me horribly, don’t you think?”

Xavier hums, turning his face to nuzzle into your palm. His lips brush your skin, a whisper of some kind of promise, making your heart flutter unevenly.

“I suppose I would…and would you miss me?” His eyes flicker back to you, narrowed, an undeniable spark of affection kindled in their blue depths.

You both know the answer.

“I’d miss you more than anything, angel.” Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t imagine life without you.”

A hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “Then, I guess I’ll have to stay by your side.”

“You better.”

“Of course, my lady.”

---

Sylus / Demon

“What does your real form look like?”

You perch on the edge of his bed, feet kicking in the air as you watch Sylus get ready for whatever meeting he’s about to go to. Something to do with one of the other head crime bosses in the N109 Zone, you’re sure. One certainly down on their luck and looking to make a deal.

Sylus glances at you through the mirror, long fingers slowing as he fixes his cufflinks. His eyes bore into you, glinting with something violent, something vicious and bloody that should unsettle you to your core, but you don’t flinch, you don’t even blink.

Such a brave kitten, the demon thinks, amusement curling his lips.

“Curious, sweetie?”

The smile he gives you is sharp, too sharp, and your skin prickles with an instinctive kind of unease. It’s something you’ve grown used to, the way your body reacts to him. Like a lamb cornered by a wolf, everything screaming at you to run, yet you chose to stay cornered. Choose to trust the teeth pressing so gently to your throat, violence and desire so perfectly restrained to keep you safe.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you chime, head tilting ever so slightly. “I just…want to understand you better, you know?”

Sylus hums and turns his focus back to straightening his cuffs, “Is that so? Aren’t you scared of what I might look like?”

“No.” Your answer is quick, unwavering, and Sylus perks a brow.

A brave kitten indeed. He’s almost impressed. The rumors about him are none too kind, and yet here you are, seeking the truth. Without knowing what the truth means.

Giving himself one last look in the mirror, the demon turns to you. He studies you for a long moment, gaze dark, pensive, intense in a way that makes your breath hitch. His eyes darken, something predatory glinting in their cardinal depths. You look at him so innocently, as if you’re not staring down the devil himself, as if you know he’d never hurt you. It makes him want to ruin you, to see that pretty blush stain your skin all over, just to curb the morbid desire burning in his chest.

But you are right, he’d never hurt you. You’re too pure, too good. So he lets himself be soft, to the best of his ability at least.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors,” he murmurs eventually.

His shoes barely make a noise as he slowly approaches you. Each step is measured, confident, like he always is, and each step makes your heart flutter a little more. You’re all but holding your breath as Sylus comes to stand in front of you. His fingers, calloused and rough from a life of violence, graze your jaw so tenderly, drawing your face up to his.

“Are you sure you can handle it, sweetie?” He asks, voice almost taunting, though his features remain soft, unassuming.

Still unwavering in your decision, you nod, “I want to know you, Sylus. All of you.”

He holds your gaze for another long moment, as if he’s trying to read your soul. Which he very well could be, you realize. But when you look into his eyes, what you see isn’t his usual smug composure. Instead, you see a flicker in hesitation. Uncertainty. And it makes your heart ache.

Lifting a hand, you carefully cover the one Sylus holds against your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his touch, a gentle smile pulling at your lips, “You won’t scare me away, Sylus. I promise.”

So perceptive. Sylus gives a low chuckle, shaking his head, “You really aren’t like most humans, sweetheart. Most wouldn’t want to know me even in this form.”

“Well that’s their loss,” you hum, eyes crinkling up at him, “But that means I get you all to myself, so I can’t feel too bad for them.”

“My, what a selfish little kitten I have.” His thumb brushes lovingly over your cheek as his expression turns more serious. “If you want to see my true form, all you have to do is ask. Your desires are mine to fulfill, and I will do so with pleasure.”

“I want to see it, Sylus,” you repeat, “I want to see you.”

“Alright.” He draws back, that wicked smile returning, “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, kitten.”

You watch, enraptured, as he rolls his shoulders, tendrils of dark smoke curling around his body. It envelopes him completely and the air in the room grows tense, fizzling with a static that has the hair on your arms standing on end. The lights flicker, plunging the room in darkness for a split second.

And when they come back on, you have to swallow down a gasp.

Because there he is. You’re not sure exactly what you were expecting. You had heard the rumors, the whispers about the monster that haunts the N109 Zone, but this somehow seems different from everything you’ve heard.

Smoldering eyes, sharp and cat-like now, stare you down with an apprehensive gleam. A pair of dark horns curl from his silvery hair. Veins of the same color curl around his neck and down his forearms like webs, the skin of his hands bleeding pitch black. His fingers look more like claws, glinting dangerously in the dim light of the room. Your eyes catch on the tail waving behind him, the spade-tip just as sharp. And the wings. They unfurl slightly, ink-like feathers brushing the floor.

What’s most shocking though, is his size. He stands almost a foot taller, his already imposing stature now threatening. The air shivers around his form, and you can feel that familiar, foreboding sensation creeping up your spine.

But the only thought running through your head is that he’s beautiful. Beautiful like a storm. Devastating and destructive, yet you can’t tear your eyes away. And you just want to be closer.

“Are you scared, kitten?” His voice rumbles with an almost imperceptible dissonance, a hint of concern beneath his tone.

You blink, gaze snapping back up to his, “No, of course not, Sy.”

The tension seems to fall away from his shoulders at that, but he still doesn’t dare move, like he’s still worried you might run away. So you, in a bout of confidence, push off the bed and walk right up to him. Sylus watches you carefully, expression reserved.

“Can I?” You ask, keeping your tone soft as you brush your fingers against the back of his hand. You look up at him questioningly, and Sylus relents, allowing you to take his hand in yours. Your touch is unbearably soft and curious, trailing along the dark tendrils marking his skin. “Does any of it hurt? To change, I mean. Are you comfortable in this form?”

“I used to spend more time in this form,” he hums, tail flicking back and forth, “but to do business in the N109 Zone, one must be able to live in the shadows without being noticed. This form did not benefit me, so I took the form of a human to…blend in, one might say. Humans are more willing to make a deal when they believe they’re on equal ground.”

“That makes sense, but it didn’t answer my question.” You pout, tapping his hand. “Does it hurt to switch between the two?”

A small grin pulls at Sylus’ lips, revealing a sharp set of fangs, his eyes narrowing in amusement, “No, sweetie, it doesn’t.”

“Good.” You nod and brush your thumb over his knuckles. “Then I want you to take whatever form you’re more comfortable in when it’s just the two of you.”

Surprise flickers across his face, barely noticeable, but you catch it. Sylus covers it up quickly, his smile turning mischievous, “I didn’t expect you to be so comfortable with this. Does my kitten have a soft spot for monsters?”

“Maybe,” you hum, stretching up to curl your hands around his neck despite how much taller he is than you now.

Sylus relents once more, leaning down so you don’t have to balance on the tips of your toes, even though he finds it quite cute. His hands rest tentatively against your waist, his fingers nearly interlinking at the small of your back. The size difference makes you bite the inside of your cheek, heat creeping up your neck.

Pushing the thought away, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, humming happily, “You’re not a monster, though. I think you actually look quite…charming like this.”

The demon huffs out a laugh, his forehead coming to rest against yours, “Whatever you say, sweetheart. I’ll be whatever you want, as long as it makes you happy.”

“You make me happy, Sylus.”

“Well then, I suppose this arrangement will benefit us both greatly.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips, “I suppose it will.”

---

I felt most of my choices were pretty expected, but let me know if you guys think they'd be other supernatural creatures! And Happy almost Halloween!

456 notes · View notes

kykyonthemoon · 8 months ago

Text

Red Stains

You've got a new lipstick and can't wait to test out the color,

on his face.

✧ — Character x F!Reader ✧ — 16+, MDNI, suggestive themes, established relationships, soft fluff, touchy, marking ✧ — Requested by Wytchie Pie.

✿ Masterlist

✿ Request a fic

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

While Caleb was in the living room playing his video game, you walked in with a new lipstick. It was hard not to tease him more when you saw how committed he was to the game. Reaching him from behind the couch, you put your arms around his neck and raised his chin to meet your gaze. You leaned down to give his left cheek a kiss. Then you hurried out of the room.

Though a little taken aback, Caleb simply grinned to himself and carried on playing the game. Not even your scarlet lipstick on his cheek did he notice.

After a while, you returned to the room. You interrupted his match again like the first time and gave him another kiss, this time on the right cheek. With a scowl, Caleb warned you: "Don't be naughty."

But you did not listen. You went into the bathroom again to apply another layer of lipstick. When would he find out that his face was covered with your lip stains? He had such a cute and goofy expression. Should you not tell him, would people laugh at him when he got out at last?

Being laughed at was his punishment. For playing games all afternoon and paying no attention to you. You went back to the living room, sneakily behind the sofa again and encircled him with your arms...

All of a sudden, he grabbed your wrist, bending you over. He leaned his head back to touch your lips and locked it with a kiss. Surprised, you leaped back and attempted to flee. After hurling the console onto the chair, Caleb got up, circled the couch, and seized you.

His hands clamped around your waist, making you turn to face him. “I told you not to be naughty.”

As you looked at the screen with the large word DEFEATED displayed, you laughed. In response, you said:

“You lost because you're terrible at this game. It's not my fault.”

“You're still in the mood to tease me?”

Caleb made an angry face, but all you saw was a cute guy with two lipstick marks on his face. He still held you tightly in his arms to prevent you from escaping. He gently lifted you up so that your bare feet rested on his.

“You tried the lipstick marking thing on my face again, didn't you”

"How do you know that?"

“I can smell it.” Caleb smirked. He could position you against the couch with style in only one spin.

“Caleb?” You were a bit surprised. He still refused to let you go but pressed closer to you.

“Make amends.” Caleb said, his voice a bit coy, making you blush. Normally, it's you who wheedle.

"What kind of compensation do you want?..." You hesitated, but you had good reason to be concerned. Because as soon as you finished speaking, you felt a bit regretful when Caleb suddenly attacked you with a passionate kiss.

When he finally let go to let you catch your breath, he rubbed your head, causing your hair to go untidy. Your fingers still lingered on his shoulder, and your red lips seemed to be inviting for another kiss. Caleb could not let you win that quickly. He stepped back and said:

“Everything always goes your way. That's how it's been all along since childhood. I can't keep spoiling you forever.”

Feeling a little let down, you gazed into his eyes. Caleb's face had brilliant lipstick traces that your fingertips touched.

"Are you sure?" You inquired, and then you hurried to put both of your arms around his neck without waiting for him to respond. You raised your torso and enveloped his waist with your legs. All he could do was hold you, and then you would attack him with powerful, determined kisses.

Caleb laughed while you pulled your lips away long enough to take a breath. He was defeated, again and again. After all, he would always let you win.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You finished your makeup that day with a little red lipstick on the lips. Satisfied with the new lipstick and cosmetics Tara had just recommended, you glanced in the mirror. But when you turned to Xavier,you saw him dozing off on the edge of the bed. He was still seated, but his back was resting on a stack of pillows and his hand was gripping the plush bunny named Bunbun.

You intended to wake him up, but as you approached, his innocent face and soft snoring made you want to give him a little playful nudge. You placed yourself on the edge of the bed, as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up. Then you pressed your lips to his cheek, leaving a red lip stain.

Leaning back slightly, you waited for Xavier to stir, but he remained deep sleeping. You impatiently placed a kiss on his other cheek. Then one on the forehead, another on the chin... Just like that, soon light and dark lipstick smears were all over his face.

You gulped back a laugh. He was certain to become uneasy upon awakening. Unexpectedly, you were taken by surprise as well. His eyes were barely open when his fingers snatched your wrists and pushed you against the bed.

"Xavier?" You let out a startled exclamation. You felt his body pressing on yours, immobilizing you. He could easily lock both of your wrists together, forcing them above your head and holding them there with only one hand.

You raised your gaze to Xavier's face which was covered by lipsticks. Gradually, he opened his eyes. He was still drowsy, but he was fully aware of the damage you had just caused to his heavenly face.

“I can't believe you sneaked up on me while I was sleeping.”

You giggled, looking apologetic: “I'm sorry. Because… you look so cute when you sleep!”

Xavier pretended not to hear your apology. He tightened his hold on the area that was holding your wrist, and you let out a quiet cry. His other hand freely explored your face and his fingers paused at your lips.

"Your lip color has changed."

Xavier was always sensitive to even the tiniest changes in you. It gave you the impression that he was concerned about you and valued you. You gave a nod.

“And you brought my face out to test your new lipstick?” Xavier questioned. You became aware that his body was gradually dropping and encroaching onto yours.

"I've already... apologized," Your cheeks heated with his breath.

"That doesn't count." Xavier gave a sulky reply. "There will be an equal cost for you to pay."

"H-Huh?

Xavier leaned down and pressed his cool lips to your cheek, leaving a scorching, tingling trail.

“One here.” Xavier said, then he proceeded to kiss the other cheek. “Another here.”

“X-Xavier…” You made an effort to resist and came very close to escaping him. But your wrists were held even tighter. The other hand Xavier was holding around your neck tensed as well.

"Be good!" Although his voice was still very gentle, you caught his impatience, almost like a command.

And you lied still, submitting to his authority as he inked your face with his own lip marks. On the forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. He planted a kiss on your face in precisely the same spot and sequence as you had just given him. You started to get a sense that Xavier wasn't actually asleep, and you were naive to fall right into the trap that was set up by his innocent expression.

At the same time, you relished the sensation of being beneath Xavier, his body heat enveloping you, and the sound of his breathing in your ear blended with every kiss.

The last kiss just ended. As you struggled to catch your breath, you said:

“A-Are you done? Can you…Can you let me go now?…”

The truth was, you never want him to let go. Xavier simply glanced at you and felt your emotions. He lifted your chin again so you could look into his eyes, while he gently parted your lips with this thumb.

“Did I say I would let you go?”

Your eyes seemed to be blurred by the heat between you both. You arched your head back a little, longing for his lips to meet yours once more. Xavier smiled triumphantly as his finger lightly slid across your lips, smearing a small amount of your lipstick out.

“You should have known there is a price for waking me up like that.”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

That evening, while you were getting ready for the date, Rafayel showed up. He took a seat next to you and began fiddling with the makeup items on the table. His long fingers stroke the blush in the box, he waved it in the air, enjoying the color in his hand.

"Look at this. My hands are now the same color as your cheeks.”

You turned to look at Rafayel. He gave you a mischievous smile. With his other hand, he gently lifted your chin.

“Let me help you,” said Rafayel. You obediently sat still so he could apply the pink blush that was already on his hand to your cheeks, although you were certain that they were already pink even before applying makeup.

"Very lovely. The peach hue draws attention to your smile.” Rafayel exclaimed. "Even though you don't need makeup to look beautiful."

You smiled heartily. His lips were always so sweet, giving you more confidence. I had never seen yourself more beautiful than when you were next to him. Even without saying it out loud, the way he looked at you always made you feel like you were the most exquisite painting his eyes had ever laid upon.

“I'm almost done. All that's left is lipstick." You said while taking out a brand new lipstick from your purse. “Tara said this color would go very well with me.”

Rafayel took the lipstick from your hand and looked at its color through the transparent glass cover. Then he gave it back to you. “Go ahead and try it on.” He spoke excitedly, as if he was the one using this lipstick.

You twisted the cap open, applied a layer and pressed your lips together to spread the lipstick evenly. “Mmmh.” Before you could look closely, Rafayel anxiously put his palm on your cheek and drew you in.

“Let me see it...” Rafayel's fingertips playfully caressed across your face and ears while you held your breath. "Red. It truly does fit you perfectly.”

His thumb traced a line down the border of your lower lip, giving you a ticklish feeling. You could not focus because of how near his face was. You gently closed your eyes, then when he was too preoccupied staring at your lips, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You?!” Rafayel was startled. He withdrew his hand and touched the place you just kissed. A scarlet set of lips like a blossoming flower revealed itself on Rafayel's porcelain face.

"If you don't let me see my lipstick color in the mirror, I'll borrow your face to try it on." You laughed in response.

“What do you mean by that?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Rafayel was left with another lip mark on his cheek, just below the previous one. His eyebrows frowned slightly. His cheeks and ears were scarlet, he couldn't hide his embarrassment anymore.

“That is excessive.” Rafayel mumbled, yet behind that salty expression was a wry smirk. You applied another layer of lipstick on your lips to replace the first layer that had mostly faded. You commented:

“This lipstick tastes somewhat as sweet as candy.”

Hearing that, Rafayel immediately raised his face. He held your chin tightly in his hand and brought it very close.

“Really? I'd like to give it a shot as well.”

After saying so, he put his lips to yours. Before you could protest, you felt a slight pain in your bottom lip as you opened your eyes wide.

“R-Rafayel!” You gasped when he left your lips. Your lipstick was lightly on his lips as he licked it lightly.

“It does taste like candy!”

His mysterious expression confused you. You covered your mouth with both hands and reprimanded: "You just bit me!"

With a sly smile, Rafayel tipped his head and said, "I was only curious to taste your lipstick. Then, I realized something…”

Suddenly he came close to you again. His hand pulled yours down to reveal your red face and slightly swollen, color-smeared lips. He spoke again:

“You taste sweeter than any candy!”

Unsure of how to react, you observed Rafayel get back up. You followed him because you assumed he was going to head to the restaurant that you two had reserved. Just as you were getting up from the chair, Rafayel abruptly pulled you back and seated you entirely on the dressing table.

"Where are you going?" He asked while burying his face in your shoulder and hair.

“To our date?… We're already late…”

Rafayel's dissatisfaction was evident from his facial expression. He glanced back at you, his finger tracing across your lips as if he was painting a picture himself.

"The plan has changed."

He kissed you once more, and this time, the long kisses were broken up by little, painless bites that made you weak in the knees and found it hard to breathe. You pushed Rafayel back a little so he could slow down while leaning your back against the frigid mirror. However, the more you did so, the more he devoured your red lips.

“We can save that restaurant for another time… For now, let's stay here, okay?”

He said between rapid breaths. You nodded slightly. How could you refuse, when all your luscious lips wanted was him?

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

During Zayne's lunch break, you stayed in his office to make sure he ate enough and on time. It could also be said otherwise; it's him who made sure you're full and rest well before returning to the headquarters.

After lunch, Zayne sat reading a book on the sofa. You thought you would get out your new lipstick and give it a little play since you had nothing better to do. You barely learned the fundamental techniques and were too busy fighting Wanderers to wear makeup frequently. But the other day, Tara had just given you a new lipstick and said that this color would look good on you.

You put on a light layer. Since Zayne's workplace lacked a mirror, you turned to him and inquired, "How do I look?"

Zayne merely gave you a quick glance before turning back to the book.

"Alright."

"Alright?!" You said it again. By that, what did he mean? It was "okay" rather than beautiful? Yet, he couldn't even look at you for more than a second. You were a little hurt. You twisted the lipstick cap again and applied another layer.

"What about this?" You inquired with him once more. However, Zayne quickly responded with a "Mmhhh" to end the conversation. You turned your gaze from him to the book he was holding. It took away all of his attention, which he should be giving to you.

Refusing to give in to such an inanimate object, you turned completely to Zayne, pulled him back and pressed your lips to his cheek.

You released your grip, revealing your trophy — a vivid red lipstick mark — on his icy face. However, he continued to glare at you without saying anything. His hand turned the book to a new page and as if nothing had happened, he ignored you once again.

“You…” You let out a sigh. You knew he had his own concerns, but were angry at the thought that you were not important, not attractive enough for him, unlike a medical book. You gave it another go, kissing him very close to the lips this time.

Zayne breathed heavily. Although the expression on his face remained unchanged, you caught his hands holding the book trembling slightly.

“There is a medical appointment that I must attend in an hour. This kind of abuse on my face is unacceptable."

You felt like you had won when he closed the book and put it back on the table.

“Okay, let me tidy it up for you.” Grinning, you got up to grab the tissue box. But you were drawn back by a strong force that very moment. Suddenly you found yourself sitting completely on Zayne's lap. His sinewy arms encircled your waist securely.

“If you want to leave marks on me…” You heard Zayne whispering so softly from behind. “You need to be a little more considerate.”

You sat still and let Zayne turn you around, facing him. Your heart was beating very fast. At this rate, before another patient came to see him, he would have to treat you first. You tried to stay calm in front of him and questioned:

“More considerate? Do you recommend any other spot then?” Your hand briefly touched Zayne's cheek before descending gently. You stared intently, lifting his chin. As you cuddled on his lap, little against the toned shoulders he covered beneath his shirt, Zayne shifted both of your legs so they were more comfortably positioned on the sofa.

Your fingertips paused at his neck, verging on his Adam's apple. You caught it moving slightly. “Or this spot?”

Zayne was clearly making every effort to maintain the residual calm on his face. His eyes were staring at you intensely from behind his glasses, as though he was granting you permission to do that.

And you leaned up to place a kiss there.

You heard a cough come from Zayne. He looked at you, extremely miserable. But you put your hand on the lipstick mark on his neck as if admiring another of your trophies. It did not stop there. You still wanted more, wanted to know what he would do if you went a little further...

Your index finger slid from his neck to his chest and stopped just above his heart.

“Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing.”

Your laughter was as crisp as sunshine in the room, increasing the temperature. Zayne took your hand, neatly holding it in his scarred one. He spoke, but you caught his trembling even though he was very discreet:

“Can you... cure me then?”

Your finger gently tapped on his chest. "Of course." You would always like it when Zayne let me be in charge, asking you to take care of him little by little. His hand loosened slightly, allowing you to freely find the buttons of his shirt and undo them.

Then, you put another crimson mark on his bare chest.

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lost-and-ephemeral · 9 months ago

Note

Could you please do LDS boys +

Caleb reacting to reader being injured/severely injured?<3

HCs: You're Injured (ft. main trio + Caleb)

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader, Caleb x reader (seperate)

Tags: hurt/comfort, reader is injured but won't die

A/N: Thanks for your request! First time writing for Caleb, yay. Sorry if it isn't good enough, I'm not feeling so good since morning.

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-

Caleb

"Hold on, pip-squeak, I'm right here."

Your exhausted body, covered in wounds from the battle with Wanderer, was ready to collapse to the ground if Caleb hadn't caught you in time.

He knew how dangerous your job was, but that didn't make him any less worried.

You protected him but got hurt in the process.

He's frustrated and angry because there's no way he could've protected you in that situation.

And Caleb just hates this feeling, but trying to stay calm for your sake. His emotions could only make everything worse.

"Sometimes even big girls need someone else's help. Right? And I'm here for you."

Concern was written all over his face, he couldn't hide it even if he really tried. The last thing he wanted was to see you hurt, especially like this.

He was supposed to be your main protector back then. But now things have changed.

You had really grown a lot, not just physically, but mentally too.

It was just hard to accept you're no longer a little girl.

Yes, you are strong and mature. But Caleb kept holding you like you were the most fragile being in the world.

He will give you first aid as quickly as he can, while calling an ambulance. Caleb is not the kind of person who would risk your life trying to handle this situation on his own.

Definitely going to the hospital with you while holding your hand and talking to you. He'll be around as long as it takes.

Probably will fall asleep on the chair near your hospital bed.

No doubt he'll continue to look after you like he did when you both were younger.

Rafayel

"No, no, no. Don't even think about leaving me like this!"

Maybe sometimes Rafayel was overly dramatic, but he's actually afraid of losing you again.

When he saw that you were injured after not-so-pleasant encounter with Wanderers, his facade of self-confidence instantly cracked.

Rafayel started panicking and it was clear from the look on his face as he crouched beside you, seeing how you trying to cover the wound by your bloody hands.

Not again. No.

All these years he had to watch you die over and over again, losing all memories of him.

Rafayel instantly began to examine your wounds, holding you close. He didn't care if his perfectly white shirt will be covered in blood as well.

He needed to be sure you won't die this time.

And his playful attitude is gone completely.

"Don't you dare to die on me, you hear? I won't forgive you. Ever. Promise me. Promise me you won't die."

He tried to remain calm and ignore the suffocating feeling of anxiety that has been slowly rising in his chest. But he couldn't.

Will do everything to stop the bleeding while help is on it's way. You can feel his hands trembling.

He'd better die for you himself, not vice versa.

I swear, this man is gonna get the whole hospital on alert. Nurses and doctors can be mad at him as much as they want. It doesn't matter to him.

Rafayel won't rest and eat properly until you get better. He just physically can't.

"Don't scare me like this ever again, please."

Xavier

"I failed you."

You accidentaly got injured during your mission. And poor Xavier decided it was totally his fault.

You both found yourself surrounded by enemies and before he could even react, one of them attacked you, leaving a deep wound on your side.

Needless to say, in the next couple of seconds all Wanderers were completely destroyed, and Xavier was fully focused on you.

This isn't the first time you've been injured during a mission. But each time Xavier is as worried as always.

Especially when your injuries are so severe.

Will administer first aid on the spot, even the bare minimum, before carrying you to safety.

With Wanderers around, it's not going to be easy to get you out of this dangerous zone. So Xavier needs to stabilize you a little at first.

"I won't let you get hurt again. I promise."

He is already experienced in these situations, so he's able to keep his emotions under control. But that doesn't mean that deep inside he isn't worried sick about you.

Will be looking for anything to treat your wound and avoid infection.

Guilt will slowly eat him up from the inside no matter what. He had to protect you, but he failed to do so.

Even if you assure him it's just an accident, Xavier just shakes his head in response.

As soon as you can get out, he'll take you to the hospital. It is unlikely that his skills will be enough to make your wound heal properly.

Better safe than sorry.

He still has a lot of work to do, but he'll come to you whenever he has a spare minute.

Will probably act like a guilty puppy for a long time.

Zayne

"You're constantly putting yourself in danger."

Zayne has a hard time showing his feelings openly, especially when it comes to you, so it's no surprise that his display of concern felt like he was scolding you.

But in reality he's really, really worried about you every time.

He knew right away that you were in the hospital after another accident.

And as soon as Zayne had some time off between surgeries, he came to you.

Looking at you in the hospital bed, he felt his heart ache.

While he was desperately searching for a cure for your heart, you kept getting hurt again and again.

Even when you smiled, like if trying to reassure him everything's fine, Zayne only sighed and shook his head. You have no idea how hard it was to see you hurt and vulnerable like this.

He's already been informed of the severity of your wounds and how much blood you've lost.

And he could've lost you.

But Zayne can't let his emotions take over. There are still a few more difficult surgeries ahead where he cannot afford to make a mistake.

And if he starts panicking right in front of you, it's not going to speed up the healing process.

"I'd be happy if you took a more responsible approach to your health. Then I wouldn't have to be so worried."

He moved his chair closer to your bed and sat in silence for a while, squeezing your hand.

Zayne will stay around as long as his job lets him.

Don't be surprised to find candies or plushies you wanted on your nightstand.

You can ask him about these little gifts.

And watch carefully as a faint smile appears on his lips.

"Usually only children get so excited about toys. So it turns out you're not that far from being a child?"

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader

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justmeinadaze · 2 months ago

Text

A Love That Will Survive (Eddie Munson X You)

A/N: I seriously have no idea where this came from but I worked really hard on it and I think it's the longest story I've ever written.

Please enjoy <3

Warnings: Husband Eddie & Fem Wife Y/N, The timeframes shift from young to older with 20 years of Marriage between them, SMUT, lose of virginity, dirty talk, lots of needy energy but all of it is with the love these two have. FLUFF, dad Eddie loves his kiddo and wife and vice versa.

ANGST, reader has an unexpected pregnancy her senior year of high school, she's from the richer side of Hawkins so her parents hate Eddie causing problems multiple times, Eddie and Y/N are in therapy, reader feels Eddie pulling away, Flashbacks with fights between the two of them (verbally), Eddie gets into a fight defending Y/N when some asshole grabs her arm. Y/N defends her husband against her parents. Eddie talking about fears of becoming his dad.

More than anything this is about a couple who's struggled with trials and tribulations of life and marriage but still love each other immensely.

Word Count: 12,541

Eddie Masterlist/ Donate to Me

1986

“Dooooo you love me more thaaan Henderson?”

“Yes. That was the easiest question you’ve ever asked me.”, Eddie chuckles as he blows the smoke from his cigarette towards the window.

“Do you love me moooore than D&D?”

“Uh oh. They’re getting harder now. Of course, baby.”, he smirks as he kisses your forehead.

“More than your guitar?”, you giggle as he heavily sighs and tosses the stick between his fingers out the window before flipping you onto your back as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

“How dare you bring my guitar into this!”, he lightly scolds as he nibbles at your skin making you laugh harder as you wrap your arms around him. “Y/N, I fell in love you the moment I met you. I was waitin’ for a girl like you…” Your eyes roll as he laughs through his teeth before singing, “…to come into my life.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“I love you to.”

***

2006

“So…how have things been this past week?”, the therapist asks as her gaze shifts between the two of you.

Neither you nor Eddie says a word as his eyes penetrate into the floor as if hoping it would open and swallow him up. You two had been married for almost 20 years and to some that would be an incredible milestone of love but little did the people around you know how mind-numbing marriage had become.

When you two met there was a fire within him that you absolutely adored. He was always so animated about things he enjoyed like playing guitar or D & D. Even when he spoke about you, his hands would flail as he desperately tried to get the words to leave his brain to accurately describe how perfect you were to him.

You weren’t sure when it happened but at some point that light and the romance just…disappeared. When Eddie came home from work smelling like motor oil and beer, he barely said two words to you before showering and crashing in bed. If he didn’t promptly fall asleep, he would pound his feet against the mobile home floors in his sweats and slight beer gut with his bare, tattooed heavy chest on display as he headed out front again to smoke a cigarette. You still thought he was incredibly attractive with scruff along his chin and the way his lose strands of hair hung around his face when he pulled it back for work. Unfortunately, the two of you hadn’t been intimate in quite some time, barely even holding hands anymore when you went out somewhere.

The few times you did have sex, you both only took off the clothing required and he thrust into you with barely if any foreplay until you both came. Afterwards, there was no cuddles or soft kiss. You two would roll over and just go to sleep.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“How’s this week been?”, the therapist asked again but softer as if treading water.

“Oh, uh, it’s been alright. Caleb went back to school on Sunday so that was hard. I miss him when he’s away.”

“I can imagine. Having any child away from home is hard but when its your only child…oof.”, she chuckles. “How about you, Eddie? How did you feel when your son left?”

“Um, I mean…it’s fine. I miss him to but I’m proud of him for going to school so…”

“Neither of us got to.”

His eyes close slightly before focusing on the woman in front of him.

“Why did you say that just then, Y/N?”, she asks in her inquiring high pitch voice that tells you, you just stepped into a “lesson”.

“I just meant that I’m proud of him to.”

“Because he got into college or because you two didn’t?”

“What’s the difference?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”, you growl. “I’m proud that my son doesn’t have to struggle like we did. He can go out, live his life, and do whatever he wants. That’s all I ever wanted for him.”

“Because of me you weren’t able to.”, Eddie grumbles.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Not in so many words but—”

“Do you blame him?”

Everything became silent as your husband leaned back on the couch and heavily sighed.

“No, I don’t.”, you responded sternly as you folded your arms. “Me getting pregnant wasn’t his fault.”

“But you resent him a bit?”

Without waiting to hear your answer, Eddie got up and stomped out of the office.

##############

1986

The metalhead paces back and forth with his hands on his hips as you sit silently on his bed with your head hung.

“I don’t understand. We were so careful and we used protection. How could this have happened?”

“The nurse suggested that the condom may have broken.”

“It didn’t look that way.”

“Oh, because you checked it thoroughly before throwing it in the garbage?”, you respond sassily as he angrily glares your way. “What are we going to do, Eddie?”

Hearing the pain in your voice breaks his heart and he promptly places himself beside you to pull you to his side.

“Everything’s going to be alright, sweetheart. We can do this. We graduate in a couple of months and then I can get a job at the shop over here. I know cars so it shouldn’t be a problem. You, of course, can stay here till we find a house and then we can—”

Your lips cut him off as you cup his face in your hands to hold him to you. When you pull away, his palm laces around the back of your neck to keep your forehead on his.

“Will you marry me?” When you giggle through your tears, he can’t help but laugh as well. “I’m serious. I can take care of you, babe. Plus, you know I’ve wanted to marry you since I first met you. We’re just kind of…skipping a few steps here…”

Your eyes watch him as he yanks off one of his rings and kneels down on one knee in front of you with your hand in his.

“I’m gonna get you a better ring, princess, I promise but like you this is special to me and I mean it when I say I want you to be my wife forever.”

Smiling, you kiss him again as you slide his ring on your finger.

“Of course, I’ll marry you, Eddie Munson.

***

The entire ride back home he didn’t say a word; chain smoking his cigarettes along the way.

“Eddie, wait. Can we talk?”, you plead as soon as you enter the front door.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I don’t resent you or the life we have!”, you scream as he tried to disappear down the hallway.

“Oh, great. Thanks, sweetheart. Now that I know that I can fucking sleep tonight.”, he responded with a tone that had you huffing as you ran after him into your bedroom.

"What I resent is this!" His intense, brown eyes follow your hands as you gesture absently between the two of you. “When did you stop fucking caring?!”

“I do care.”

“Do you?! You barely talk to me anymore, we don’t spend time together, and when you are here physically you seem gone mentally. You always have a cigarette or a fucking beer in your hand… I mean we don’t even really fight anymore. It’s always me shouting at you while you stare at me like you are now!”

“What do you want from me, Y/N?”

“I just want you to show some kind of emotion! You used to be so animated, Eddie, and now you just…I don’t know. You’re not as passionate as you used to be.”

“I’m not in my 20s anymore, babe. I’m sorry I’m not as spry as before.”

“Like you would know. You don’t even try or anything. We aren’t old, Eddie, and now’s our time to do everything we wanted.”

“Because I ruined our youth by knocking you up?”

Your eyebrows furrow together as you blink back tears that try to push forth.

“No, you asshole. Because you said, you wanted to spend forever with me.”

With that, you turn around and stomp out the back door.

##############

1988

“Every rose has its thorn Just like every night has its dawn Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song Every rose has its thorn Yeah it does, Caleb.”

Eddie softly smiles as his son’s tiny palm taps the guitar his fingers were strumming on. Your own grin paints your lips as you watch him pet his unruly curls before continuing to play. His voice was a bit more rugid than normal but you assumed that was because he had been at work all day and had yet to rest. Even now his jumpsuit hung around his waist and he had patches of dirt clinging to his skin but he missed Caleb a lot when he was away.

Eddie as a father made you fall even more in love with him as you watched them play or do anything together. He had been working back-to-back shifts to help pay for certain things your son needed and you missed him every day.

“Hey, baby?”

“Hey, princess?”, he cooed back making you giggle.

“How was your day?”

“It was alright. Angry customers and stupid people so ya know…Hawkins.”, he beams your way as you come over to sit beside him and pick up the baby to sit on your lap.

“You know you don’t have to work so hard, right?”

“I know, sweetheart. I just want to make sure you both have everything you need and to get us out of this fucking trailer.”

“It’s technically a mobile home…a bit bigger.”, you smirk as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“But you both deserve a house and I still haven’t gotten you a proper engagement ring.”, he sighs.

“Eddie, I love this ring. It was a part of you and it feels like you’re holding my hand throughout the day.”

“I don’t deserve you.”, he murmurs with a smile as he kisses your lips before Caleb swats at his cheek. “Hey, hey, dude. She was mine first. Don’t get jealous.”

***

2006

His boots bang along the wood of the back porch as Eddie steps outside to find you laying on the trampoline you had gotten Caleb for his 8th birthday. His son was so ecstatic when he opened the box, begging his father to put it together right that moment. They both spent the evening working as a team to put it together and they laughed the entire time.

The metal clanked against his belt buckle as he awkwardly climbed up to lay beside you, your eyes closing as you listened to the lighter shut as he lit a cigarette and breathed out the smoke. You would always associate that smell with him. The smell of smoke mixed with his breath that smelled the way he used to taste, intoxicating. The scent of gasoline and his leather jacket when he came home from work.

Eddie.

“Do you remember when Caleb broke his arm jumping on this thing and he didn’t even cry?”

The trampoline underneath him shook slightly at your laughter.

“Yeah, he came in holding his wrist and said ‘Mom, I think we need to go to the doctor.’ Scared the crap out of me.”

“When I showed up at the hospital, he showed me his cast like it was an award or something. He said he was going to be the coolest kid in class.”, he chuckled as you both continued to look up at the sky. “He didn’t need an injury to be cool. Kid was always badass.”

“Do you still love me?”

Taken aback by your question, his head snaps in your direction.

“Of course, Y/N.”

“It doesn’t feel like it sometimes. For a while I thought maybe this was normal, that we would grow distant as the years passed but…” Your eyes turn to meet his. “…this doesn’t feel normal.”

“What are you trying to say to me right now?”

“Caleb’s an adult now and like you said… you knocked me up. You…you don’t have a reason to stay.”

Eddie blinked as his jaw tightened and you watched his anger flow through his facial features. Rolling off the trampoline, he tosses his cigarette and stomps back into the house, slamming the door for emphasis.

################

1992

You gnaw on your thumb as you glance towards the kitchen wall clock. Your husband was supposed to be home at 8pm and it was now 11. You had an absolute shit day and wanted to crash early after a long bath but you needed to talk to him about something important. The longer you waited the angrier you became.

At 11:30pm, the door slowly squeaked open as Eddie tried to quietly sneak in.

“Where have you been?”, you ask sternly eliciting a heavy sigh from him as he shuts the door loudly. “You were supposed to be home four hours ago.”

“I worked late and then Steve invited me out for a beer.”

“It smells like it was more than a beer.”, you sneer as you roll your eyes. “I needed to talk to you about something important but fuck me, right?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. What do you want? What’s so goddamn important you can’t wait till tomorrow.” Without saying a word, you try to head towards your bedroom but he quickly reaches forward to grab your arm. “No, hey, I want to hear it because obviously it’s a big fucking deal.”

Furiously, you smack the paper in your hand into his chest.

“Your son needs school supplies and other things for next week. I get a discount at my store but I still don’t have enough for that and our mortgage payment.”

“Ok.”, Eddie sighs as he scratches the scruff on his face and looks at the list. “Ok, this isn’t too bad. We can—”

“It’s not just this. He’s going to need money for lunches and his teacher said they are going on a field trip in October and he needs to pay for the ticket. How are we going to afford that?!”

“Y/N, calm down. It’s August. We can cross that bridge when we get there.” Again, you try to leave but he tugs you once more. “What? What is it now?!”

“Eddie, it’s like you don’t care! We need to think of these things!”

“Just because I’m not flipping out like you are doesn’t mean I don’t care!”

“You always do this! You always make me the bad guy!”

“That’s not what I said, Y/N!”

“You don’t think I want to go out and have fun with my friends to?! I wish I could have a beer with Nancy and Robin after work but I can’t because I have to do EVERYTHING around here! And that includes figuring out how our son is going to be able to eat, have the things he needs, and also be allowed to have fun with his friends by going on that field trip!”

“When did you get so fucking uptight?”, he grumbled.

“When I married you, apparently!”

“Yeah. Well—”

“Daddy?” Caleb’s tiny, sleepy voice cut through your argument as you both turned to face him as he rubbed his little eyes. “Mommy? Why so loud?”

“I’m sorry, baby. Were we being too loud?”

“Uh huh.”

As you step towards him, your son automatically extends his arms so you can lift him and he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Hey, kid.”, Eddie smiled his way as he lightly tickled the boy’s neck with his finger making him giggle as he keened into you more. “Come on. Let’s get you back in bed.”

The metalhead followed close behind as you head for Caleb’s room and place him under his covers.

“Mommy? Were you guys fighting because of me?”

Tilting your head to the side, you sat by his legs as you turned to face him.

“No, baby. Daddy and I weren’t fighting. We were…”, you pause looking at your husband for help.

“We were…talking incredibly excitedly. LIKE THIS!”, Eddie shouts causing his son to laugh. “Sometimes adults forget to use there inside voice.”

“Like—like Jackie’s parents?”, he asks, you and your husband exchanging a knowing look.

Jackie was the little girl in the mobile home across the street and who Caleb played with on the weekends. At night, occasionally, you three would hear her parent’s fighting and sometimes she would come over for dinner just to get away.

“Um, yeah, buddy.”

“Except not as mean. No mean names.”

“Pfft yeah. No mean names. Mommy would kill me if I called her something mean.”, Eddie jokes as he makes a slicing motion with his finger and pretends to fall to the floor dead.

“I would.”, you widen your eyes playfully as he beams your way and you bend down to kiss his forehead. “Alright, go to sleep. I love you.”

“I love you to, mommy. Love you, daddy!”

“Love you to, freak. Ow!”, he chuckles when you lightly slap his chest before winking Caleb’s way.

After closing his door and heading to your own bedroom, Eddie tugs you into his arms and hugs you to his chest.

“I’m sorry I was late and made you feel that way. I do care. We’ll get him everything he needs and I’d be more than happy to watch him while you hang out with the girls. He’s a cool kid and I know Wayne has been dying to see him.”

Pushing up on your toes, you tenderly kiss his lips.

####################

2006

“So, tonight is the night, right?”, your therapist asked during your next session.

It had been a week since your conversation with Eddie on the trampoline and he had barely been home that entire time. You knew where he was because you passed the mechanic shop to get to work and his head was always stuck under the hood of a car he was repairing.

“Yeah, my parents are doing their annual charity thing and we’re forced to be there.”, you sigh as your whole body deflates.

“No one is really forcing you, Y/N. You’re a grown woman who can tell her parents no.” The therapists head ticked to the side as your own hung. “Why are you still afraid to stand up to them?”

“I…I don’t know how.”, you whisper causing your husband’s eyes to scan over you before glancing towards the therapist.

“She did it once and it didn’t end well.”, Eddie explained as he straightened his jacket and sat up a bit. “When she told her mom she was pregnant and marrying me, they told her she wasn’t allowed and how ‘unbecoming’ it was for young ladies or some shit. She told her mom to fuck off and her dad got so pissed.”

You can’t help but smile when he chuckles.

“I didn’t actually say ‘fuck off’ but I did stand up for you. I just hated the things they were saying about how you were beneath us. Oh my God and then he came towards you like he was going to hit you.”

“You jumped in front of me. I was so pissed off when we got home because you put yourself in harms way.”, he shakes his head before his eyes lock with yours.

“I’d do it again.”

When his toothy grin softened to a smirk, for a moment, you felt that spark again that ignited within you when you two first met. Did he feel it to?

“What happened after that? Why do you go to this event every year then?”, the therapist asks and the moment passes.

“Huh? Oh, appearances mostly. Since we got married, I wasn’t viewed as much of a slut as some other single mothers in town. It was fucking stupid but…I wanted Caleb to have his grandparents and at least they were good at that”

“Mhmm. But Caleb is 19 and in college…so why do you keep going?”

You blinked as you took in her words as if she just told you the weirdest thing you had ever heard. You genuinely hadn’t thought about it, pretty much going on impulse at this point.

“I go for her.”, Eddie answers as he exhales and leans back on the couch. “I wasn’t going to allow her to face that chaos by herself.”

“You’ve always been very protective over Y/N. It’s definitely something I admire about your relationship.”

Your husband shrugs as his gaze shifts to the window behind her.

“She’s my wife and the love of my life. I’d do anything for her…even leave…if that’s what she wants.”

To your therapist that seemed random but you understood. It was Eddie’s way of telling you that he didn’t want a divorce but if you did, he’d understand.

“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to fight.”

***

1997

“Hey Grandma!”, Caleb shouts after you take off his jacket and hand it to the man your parents hired to work for the evening.

“Shhhhhh. Now Caleb, how do we speak when at a social function?”

“We use our inside voice and manners.”, he recited, your son smiling as your mother beams at him and leans down to kiss his cheek.

“Good boy! Oh my goodness look at you in your little suit. You look so handsome.”

“Thank you ma’am. My dad and I went to the store together.”

“Oh? You never would have been able to guess with the ensemble he’s currently wearing.”

“Mom.”, you scold as Eddie’s fingers twitch slightly around your waist.

“Always good to see you, Angela. Would you look at that? Steve is by the bar. Excuse me.”

“Mom, they both spent over an hour getting ready for this. Can you please be kind?”

“Hm, I can’t make any promises. Oh, Y/N, it’s Michael and his mother. Didn’t you go to school with him?”

Pointing at something in the distance, you grab your son’s hand and hastily make a getaway to where Steve, Nancy, and Eddie were gathering in a corner.

“Hey, dude.”

“Hi, Uncle Steve and Aunt Nancy.”, he grins as he leans in to give her a hug around her waist.

“Are your parents here to, Steve?”, you ask.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss a chance to show off their wealth for the world.”, the man sasses as he points to where they were mingling with other guests.

As the night wore on, you saw how it affected your husband as he continually either adjusted his uncomfortable clothes or did whatever he could to maintain a conversation with someone even though anyone that passed by usually only wanted to speak to Steve.

“Y/N, you need to go talk to Michael before he leaves.”, your mom commands as she tries to pull on your arm.

“Mom, no. Michael and I aren’t friends nor will we ever be or anything else you try to push on me.”

Narrowing her eyes, she succeeds in pulling you away but instead of towards the other man, she guides you into your old bedroom.

“Y/N, I’m trying to help you here.”

“How can Michael Wescott help me? I don’t need anything from him.”

“You need a better husband and father for that child.”

Your mouth falls open as her insult pierces your heart.

“Mom, Eddie is a good husband and a wonderful father. He works hard for us both and I love him. I’m sorry you can’t see what an amazing man he is.”

“No but I can see my only child living in a trailer with barely enough means to get by. Honey, he still hasn’t even gotten you a proper engagement ring and it’s been 10 years!”

“I’m taking them both out of here right now! You never took the time to get to know him like I did. If you had you would see why I love him with all my heart!”

As you open the door, you were met with your husband chugging back the last of the liquid in his glass before tossing it onto the floor where it shattered.

“Eddie…”

Without saying a word, he grabbed your hand and collected his son so the three of you could leave.

######################

2006

“What do you think?”, you ask as you step into the living room and display your blue, spaghetti strap evening dress with your hair pulled up and away from your face.

Eddie tore his eyes from the mirror where he had been straightening his tie and when they landed on you, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“I think…wow, you look fucking amazing, princess.”

It had been so long since you heard him call you that and a heavy sigh left your lips at the sound.

“Th-Thank you, baby.”

Smiling softly, he extended his arm for you to take and guided you to your car. The entire drive to your parent’s house, you took an opportunity you hadn’t in a long time and rested your head on his shoulder. His chest heaved but he leaned his head on your own as his palm rested on your thigh.

“I think you look handsome to by the way.”, you grin as he pulls into the driveway, flashing you a nervous smile with a little chuckle.

“Thanks. Let’s see what sarcastic comment your parents have to say. I’m guessing something about me not trying or maybe I’ve gotten too fat to wear a suit.”

“Eddie…you’re not…don’t say it like that.”

“Like what? It’s true, I mean I’m not as scrawny as I was 20 years ago.”

“I like the way you look.”, you sigh before turning to open the car door but his hand on your bicep stops you and your eyes meet his. “We can go back home if you want. Steve and Nancy can’t make it and Caleb isn’t here so—”

“So it’s ok for me to leave you to handle your parents alone while they talk shit about me?”

“Ugh, nevermind.”, you huff as you step out and saunter towards the front door.

“Y/N, wait. I didn’t mean it like—”

“Y/N! There’s my little girl.”, your father grins wide as he wraps his arms around you. “Where is my grandson?”

“He went back to school a couple of weeks ok, dad.”

“Aw that’s too bad.” Ignoring Eddie’s extended hand, your dad drags you further into the house to find your mother who also ignores your husband as she gives you a hug.

“Oh, baby, you look so beautiful.”

“Thank you. Eddie looks really good as well tonight don’t you think?”

“Edward, oh my. Didn’t even see you there, honey, which is shocking given how much weight you’ve gained since we last saw you.”

“MOM!”

“What!? I’m just saying—”

“No, no, sweetheart. It’s alright. I have put on a couple of pounds but in all the right places. I mean, I’m not just slouching forward because I’m lazy. You know what I mean, Norman.”, Eddie winks as he pats your dad on the arm while you try to contain your smile and for added effect he reaches down to adjust the bulge in his slacks. “Excuse me while I go mingle.”

####################

1984

“I think this is the best Halloween I’ve ever had.”, you beam as Eddie chuckles beside you, continuing to slowly turn the merry go round you two were sitting on with his foot. “I think this is the first year I haven’t dressed up like a princess.”

“Well, Sarah Conner, you’re still a princess to me.”, he grins as he hands you another piece of candy. “Are you cold? You can wear my jacket if you want to.”

“No, Kyle Reese. I think I’m alright.”

His smile widens as you lay back and he does the same, placing his bag of treats and fake rifle that rounded out his ensemble above your heads.

“My parent’s always do that masquerade thing for Halloween and I always hated it.”

“I can imagine. Being stuck inside with stuffy adults in those Victorian costumes would drive me crazy to. Then again being stuck inside with Wayne in a trailer watching reruns of Stephen King movies isn’t exactly thrilling either.”

Eddie grins when you laugh before it tapers off and you both just lay there in each other’s presence. You had been dating this metalhead for about a month and you appreciated him taking things slow with you but as your eyes scanned him over you suddenly wanted more.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight and showing me a good time.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I like spending time with you.”

“I was wondering…could you…show me something else?”

Eddie’s foot drags along the ground forcing the merry go round to jerk to a stop as he pushes up onto his elbow to look down at you.

“W-What, um, what would you like me to, uh, show you?”, he stuttered nervously making you giggle a bit.

“Could you…show me how to…kiss a boy?”

“I mean, I’ve never kissed a boy myself but…”, he laughs through his teeth and your smile grows. “Yeah, I can show you.”

Your eyes remained locked on his as his palm comes down to cup one of your cheeks and he gradually lowers himself till his lips are hovering just above your own. His breath smells like chocolate and nicotine but there’s also a hint of something else you desperately wanted to identify. As his thumb tenderly caressed your skin, his mouth finally connected to yours and as soon as they did you felt your entire body come to life.

It was a soft kiss at first but soon grew bolder when you figured out what that additional something else was, Eddie. That was the best way to describe it and it tasted so good that your hand snuck just below his ear to hold him closer.

Your hips twisted to be closer to him and he didn’t miss a beat as his palm slid down you back to press your lower half harder against him.

“Eddie.”, you whimper involuntarily as his mouth released yours long enough to catch his breath before diving back in just as eagerly. “Eddie, Eddie, wait.”

At your firm command, his hand came back up to cup your cheek.

“Are you alright? Did I…Did I go too far?”

“No, no. I just…this is all new to me. I want to go slow.”

“I…I understand. I understand.”, he panted as he wiped your spit from his lips and winced slightly as he rolled over back onto his back.

It took you a moment but when your eyes glanced along his body, you noticed the large bulge pressing uncomfortably against his jeans.

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper with a slight crack in your tone that has his head shooting up to look your way before following your eyeline.

“Hey, sweetheart, no. No reason to be sorry. I’ll be ok. Trust me, I’m a guy with all the hormones. I’ve gotten boners in pretty uncomfortable scenarios believe me.”, he laughs hoping to make you laugh as well. “Don’t ever be sorry about this kind of stuff. I can go as slow as you need me to and I’ll be here, babe. I, um, I really like you…a lot.”

Taking ahold of you, he maneuvers you by his side with your head on his chest.

“I like you a lot to.”

##############################

2006

You watch with a small smile on your face as your husband talks with some of the other guests at the party and you couldn’t help but think of your therapist’s question as you sipped your drink.

Why did you keep coming here?

Habit maybe? Until you met Eddie you really did do everything they wanted completely unsure of what else you should be doing. You went to all their events, smiled, and spoke to anyone they told you to, even wearing clothes they suggested because you had yet to really find your sense of self. When you met the metalhead, he showed you a completely different world that you absolutely enjoyed and loved experiencing with him.

Even when you both got married and had Caleb, you couldn’t picture anyone else you wanted that life with other than him. Sometimes you wondered what life would be like if you hadn’t met Eddie. You pictured an unhappy girl married to an equally unhappy man who was incredibly vain and never home to see his children.

Your husband was a wonderful father and a good man to you both. Even now with your marital problems, he still came to therapy with you and never once cheated or hurt you.

“Y/N!”, you mother called interrupting your thoughts. “Baby, look who I found.”

You didn’t even try to hide your sigh when she pushed Michael forward to shake your hand.

“Michael. How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been good. I just closed a big case and made partner at my firm.”

Your eyes widened sarcastically as you nodded while your mom got a bit too excited, clapping her hands and congratulating him.

“That’s so amazing! Isn’t it amazing, Y/N?”

“Super. I’m, um, I’m just going to…” As you point towards the balcony, your mother grabs your wrist.

“Y/N, be polite and take him with you.”, she whispers.

“I don’t want to be polite.”, you growl as you pull your arm out of her grasp. “I’m married mom. I have been for 20 years to the man I love and have a son with. Stop pushing Michael on me which by the way is super weird that he’s still single after all this time. Didn’t that thought ever occur to you?”

“No because all I thought about was how my daughter deserves better than a man she was forced to marry because he got her pregnant.”

Rolling your eyes, you hurry outside onto the balcony by the pool and inhale the night air as you try to calm down.

“Hey Y/N.” Sighing, you turn to face Michael who was slowly walking towards you with his hands in the air. “I just wanted to come and apologize for all that back there. I’ve never been the one to ask your mom to introduce me. She does that on her own.”

“Yeah, she does that.” Your eyes scan him over before giving him a polite smile. “Thank you for coming over to apologize. I really appreciate that.”

“It’s no problem. My own mom is a bit pushy to so I get it then again I haven’t gotten married yet so that could be the problem.”, he chuckles and you can’t help but laugh with him.

***

2002

Eddie storms into the house after work and slams his keys loudly down on the table before heading to the fridge to pop open a bottle of beer. Slowly getting up from the couch you meet him halfway as his fury filled eyes meet yours.

“So are you going to tell me why you’re upset or…”

“Doesn’t matter.”, he grumps as he stalks towards the sofa and hurls his body onto it.

“Obviously it does so why don’t you quit with the foreplay and just tell me.”

When he doesn’t answer, you shrug and head for your bedroom, smirking to yourself slightly when you hear his boots bang against the floor as he follows.

“I came to visit you at work today. Thought maybe we could have lunch or something.”

“Ok…and you didn’t because…?”

“Because when I got there you were flirting with some asshole.”

“I’m sorry what?”, you ask genuinely confused with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh, you don’t know who I’m talking about? Tall, black hair, young, looks like Johnny Depp in Nightmare on Elm Street.” When you giggle, his eyes darken. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to but I just can’t believe you’re actually fucking jealous of a twenty-year-old who has a girlfriend by the way. What the fuck is wrong with you? After all this time why would you think I would cheat on you now with some kid from work?”, you reply sarcastically.

“Well, Y/N, you’re not fucking me! So…”

Your eyes widen in shock and you wonder if he can see your heart break. Controlling any tears from escaping, your jaw tightens as you tilt your head.

“You’re right I’m not. Maybe I should fuck him. Wouldn’t be the first time I slept with someone who was beneath me.”

It was an automatic reaction that had Eddie moving before he could stop himself. His hands were around your biceps and suddenly you were against the wall with his nose just inches from your own. His chest rose and fell as angry breaths escaped his nose.

As quickly as it came, it left with a blink as you saw the darkness recede and the man you fell in love with take over again. His mouth fell open as his eyes continued to run up and down your body as if he was trying to figure out what just happened.

“Mom?”

Both your heads turned to see your teenage son leaning in the doorway with a concerned look painted on his features.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m fine. I just had the worst day and your dad was trying to make me feel better. Are you hungry, Caleb? Do you want something to eat?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie fold himself as he took a few steps away from you.

“Um, yeah, but I can make myself something—”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Just give me one moment, ok?”

Nodding, he turned to head towards the kitchen but when you swiveled around to face your husband, he had already disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door.

***

2006

Eddie loved watching you interact with people. He knew who you were before he even introduced himself having seen you skip happily around the school with your books close to your chest like Molly Ringwald in any John Hughes movie. You spoke with your hands and smiled as you nodded your head as you seemingly absorbed what people were saying to take a piece of it with you.

You had always made him feel heard.

The metalhead thought he didn’t have a chance with a girl like you but when your beautiful eyes landed on him after bumping into him in the library, he knew he had to try.

Over the past twenty years, he felt like he slowly watched that light leave you and he knew it was his fault. Just like his dad did with his mother, it was unavoidable.

Going outside to get away from the people in your parent’s house, he leaned over the rail wishing he could smoke but knew if your mom smelled it on him she would have something to say and he didn’t want to deal with all that right now.

Suddenly, Eddie heard a sigh in the air and as he peaked around the corner, he saw you exhaling into the night sky.

The way the wind moved your hair had him smitten all over again as he remembered cold nights of you two sitting on his bed with the window open after making love and you in one of his shirts as you leaned your head outside to feel the breeze while he smoked.

You would smile and he would randomly reach out to touch your face wondering what the fuck you were doing with him.

Eddie couldn’t help but huff when another man came out to talk to you.

Michael; the asshole your mom kept pushing your way.

You seemed annoyed at first but then you laughed. God, he adored that sound more than anything in the world. The first time Caleb laughed he silently thanked the heavens it sounded exactly like yours.

“I said no.”, you shouted sternly with eyes filled with anger.

Pushing at his chest, you tried to walk away but Michael grabbed your forearm to turn you around and Eddie saw red.

#########################

1986

As Eddie starts to take off his suit jacket, he notices you staring at yourself in the mirror above his dresser as you carefully untangle your hair from the veil you had clipped into it.

An idea crosses his mind and he digs through his records before popping in a cassette and waiting for it to play.

Meeting his eyes in your reflection, you giggle as the synth fills the room and he reaches for your palm that you eagerly take. Wrapping his arms around your waist, you do the same around his neck as you both begin to sway to the music.

“When you love someone It feels so right, so warm and true I need to know if you feel it too Maybe I'm wrong Won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong?”

As he sings along, your smile grows and at the chorus he scrunches his face as he obnoxious belts out the lyrics.

“I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life I've been waiting for a girl like you, you're a love that will survive I've been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive Yeah, waiting for a girl like you to come into my life”

“You’re such a dork, Eddie Munson.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork, Y/N Munson.” At the use of your new name, you tilt up on your toes to kiss his lips and lean your head against his chest. “What’s wrong, princess? Thinking about your parents?”

You nod as you continue to sway to the music.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m sure this isn’t exactly how you pictured your wedding day but—”

“Shhhhh.”, you shush as you tilt back and place a finger over his mouth. “I had a great day, baby. Yeah, I wish my mom and dad could accept us but I love you so much. I can’t wait to see what our future holds.”

He sighs as he kisses you again and holds you to him once more.

“I love you to, sweetheart. You’re safe with me and I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to give you a happy life.”

“As long as I have you, I’m happy.”

***

2006

“Excuse me?”, you ask the man beside you hoping you didn’t hear him correctly.

“Come on. You heard me. You deserve better than the life you have and you we both know people like us aren’t trailer trash.”

“Define ‘people like me’.”

Gesturing towards your parent’s house, he raises an eyebrow as if to signal it should be obvious.

“Wow, no wonder my mother chose you. You’re a fucking asshole.”

“That may be but why don’t you let me take you out to dinner and show you what you’re missing out on.”

“Um, no thanks. I’ll pass.”

As you stand, Michael suddenly blocks you with his body.

“Come on, baby.”

“I said no.”

While trying to walk away, the man grabs your forearm and turns you around, pulling you to his chest.

“I’m not a man you say no to, Y/N.”

“And I’m not a woman you grab. Now let me go.”

When he doesn’t release you, you raise your hand and hit him hard in the face causing him to let you go. You expected and braced to fall onto the concrete so when strong palms catch you, you’re surprised.

After making sure you’re on both feet and ok, Eddie turns to shove the man hard backward.

“Don’t ever put your hands on my wife.”

“Or what?”, the man challenges and your husband accepts as he steps forward before you grip his arm to stop him.

Placing a protective arm around you, Eddie guides you towards the house to head towards the front door.

“She could have had a good life, Munson! A big house, fancy jewelry, and anything she could want and more. She wouldn’t even have to ask. With my last name things would be handed to her willingly.”

You saw his jaw tighten as Michael spoke but he continued to ignore him as he grabbed your coat and held it open for you to put your arms through.

“What’s going on?”, your father asked as he came up from the side.

“I’m a respected member of Hawkins whose parents helped mold this town. You were just a trailer trash, burn out whose own parents were scum.”

Right as his palm touched the door, he froze and you both listened as the other man stepped closer behind you.

“Guys like you, Munson, are meant to be the ‘good time’ before women like her marry respectable men like me. Jesus… Your dad was a failure, you’re a failure, and if the accidental pregnancy is any indication so will Caleb. His whole fucking conception was a mistake.”

It was abrupt to everyone in the room except you when Eddie’s fist flew hitting Michael square in the jaw. You didn’t even try to stop him as he headed towards him to hit him more before your parents intervened.

“That is enough! I will not have this behavior in front of my quests in my own house.”, your mother scolded as she pointed her boney finger at your husband.

“I put up with a lot of bullshit. For over twenty years, I’ve let you ridicule and insult me, put down me and my family, and listen to you whisper in my wife’s ear that she can do better. I have put myself through the ringer including getting on my hands and knees to beg you people to come to our wedding…”

Your eyes scanned him over as tears began to fall from your eyes and your mouth fell open.

“…yet I’m still just fucking trailer trash that ruined her life? Fuck. You. Yeah, you heard me. We may have had a son and gotten married a bit faster than ‘normal people’ but I always loved your daughter. You think she doesn’t deserve a man like me but over 22 years I’ve learned that she never deserved you as parents. We may have our problems but thank GOD we are nothing like you.”

“Get out NOW before I call the police! You are no longer welcome here.” Your father shouts as Eddie searches for you, thankful when your hand intertwines with his. “Y/N Y/L/N. If you leave with this man, you will not be welcome back into this house or this family. Any inheritance will be spread elsewhere.”

Chuckling under your breath, you turn to face them still holding the man you love.

“Honestly, you can take my inheritance and shove it up your ass.” People around the room gasp at your comment as your parents take a step back. “I haven’t been a part of this family since I got pregnant and the only reason we’ve put up with you is because of Caleb.”

“Y/N—”

“No! Jesus, mom, think about it. Eddie may not come from money but at least he doesn’t call my son a mistake.”, you growl towards Michael. “He’s a good man but you can’t look past your own selfishness to see that. If you want to apologize to me and my husband you know where we are. Until then, fuck you.”

As you both turn to leave, you pause to face them one more time.

“Oh, and it’s Y/N Munson, not Y/L/N.”

##############

1985

“I have a confession to make.”, Eddie breathily laughs as he holds the condom between his fingers. “I’ve never done this before…sex…like actual sex. I’ve done stuff but not like…fuck I’m coming off like an ass.”

You smile as you sit up with his blanket wrapped around your naked body and lean your cheek on his shoulder.

“No, baby, you’re not. I’ve never…you’re going to be my first to.”

Swallowing, he tilts forward to kiss your forehead.

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”, he whispers.

“As long as I’m with you, I won’t be. I trust you, Eddie.”

Reaching over him, you take the condom from his hand and tear it open like they showed students in health class before sliding it onto his hard, leaking cock. The metalhead hisses slightly at your touch, holding his breath as your palm rubs along his shaft through the rubber barrier.

“How does that feel?”, you murmur as your eyes watch his face.

“Feels…good.” When he finally opens his own eyes and sees your smile, he realizes you were asking about the condom. “Oh, I mean, yeah. That feels good to. It’s on there correctly. I’m just going to stop talking.”

Shaking your head, you take hold of his biceps and pull him on top of you, adjusting the blanket over you both.

“Don’t you dare. I need to hear you.”

“O-Okay.”

Opening your legs wider for him, Eddie reaches between your bodies to take hold of himself and run the head of his length between your folds.

You jump slightly, licking your lips as he occasionally grazes your clit.

“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna lean back on my knees. Is that ok? I feel like I’ll have more control so I don’t…I don’t hurt you as much.”

After getting your ok, he pushes up onto his knees and continues to run himself between your pussy lips while his free hand massages your thigh.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I’m going to push in now, ok? If you want me to stop just let me know.”

Before this moment, Eddie had asked Steve a ton of questions about what he should do and how best to not hurt you. Nothing, however, prepared him for the immense pleasure he felt when he gradually began guiding his cock inside of you.

“Oh—Oh my God.”

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah, baby. Just—fuck—you feel so fucking good.”

“I do?”

When he aggressively nods his head, you both feel your pussy flutter around him making you both moan; him much louder than you. You were doing all right as he continued, the stretch of him burning but not enough to want to stop. It wasn’t until he had half his cock inside you that you sucked in a breath and his eyes shot up to see yours squeeze closed as your face scrunched in pain.

“Do you need me to stop?”

“N-No. No. Just hang on a minute.”

Nodding, he remembered something his friend told him and you listened as he licked his thumb and gently rubbed slow circles against your clit.

“Oh f-fuck, Eddie.”

“Yeah, honey? Does that feel good? Fuck me. I’m gonna thrust a bit but I won’t go deeper till you tell me.”

You allowed him to do that till you felt the pain subside and pleasure begin to take over again. Reaching for his arms, you brought him down till he was hovering over you once more and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“More.”

“You want more?”, Eddie whispered against your lips before placing a tender kiss against them as he pushed deeper inside of you. “Fuck, Y/N. You are so tight around my dick. I’m almost all the way in.”

“Give it to me, baby, please.”

“Oh my god.”, he mewled as his lips attached to your neck and your arms wrapped around his shoulders. With a rough roll of his hips, you felt the head of his cock nudge something only his fingers had ever touched and your nails dug into his skin as he grunted into yours.

“Jus—Just like that, Eddie.”

“Like that? Can I take over, baby? Is that ok?”

When you nod, his entire body falls flat against your own with his hand snaking behind your head to hold to him as your own hands slid to his lower back as if to guide his movements. His rhythm hastened and the grunts that were echoing in your ears were the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

He seemed to get almost lost in the experience as his hips were hitting you so hard his bed underneath you began to shake. That familiar feeling built up in your stomach but much intensely than you had ever felt before.

“Eddie…I think I’m…about to cum.”

As your cunt clung tightly to him, you shuttered against him as the coil snapped.

“Oh my God…Y/N…” His pace sputtered as he a bit aggressively slammed his hips against your own as a strangled moan fell from his lips and his full body weight collapsed on top of you.

You both panted as you tried to catch your breathes, him gently kissing your cheek before carefully pushing up onto his palms.

“Ow.”, you groaned as your hand abruptly flew to his back to stop him. “Go slow.”

Nodding, he kissed your forehead and allowed you to guide him as you pressed your palm to the lower half of his tummy while he gradually removed his now soft cock from your extremely sore entrance.

After removing and tying off the condom, he threw it in the trash and rose to his feet.

“Do you think you can walk to the shower?”

“I…don’t think so…it really hurts.”

Eddie blinks as he almost haphazardly picks you up and quickly scurries to the bathroom.

“Oh, Y/N. Fuck. I was too rough wasn’t I? Fuck!”

Following his eyeline, you see the light blood that was attached to your thigh and you can’t help but smile as you grab his wrist to bring him to you.

“Eddie, baby, that’s normal. Or at least that’s what the sex ed teacher says after girls lose their virginity.”

Relief paints his face before he guides you into the shower and stands with you under the hot water.

“Was I…to rough? I just…I tried to do everything so it didn’t hurt you but I think near the end there—”

“I love when you get all nervous and stutter.”, you giggle as you tilt up to kiss his lips. “You weren’t too rough. I have a feeling I’m going to feel you the next couple of days and…I don’t mind.” You smile when his breathing hiccups a bit at your admission. “Did you…was I…did you like being with me?”

Eddie chuckled a bit under his breath as if you had asked him the most ridiculous question he had ever heard.

“Y/N, I loved being with you. I love you…so much, pretty girl.”

Circling your arms around him, you held him tightly as he does the same.

“I love you to.”

#################

2006

Silently, you both entered your home and Eddie’s eyes followed you as you disappeared before reappearing with the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom. After taking off his jacket, he rolled up his sleeves and automatically held his hand out for you so you could clean the cuts on his knuckles.

When he hissed loudly, you jumped as panic flooded your face before you realized he was playing with you and you lightly hit his chest with the back of your hand as he laughed through his teeth.

“Dork.”

“I never stopped.”

“Being a dork? I know.”

“No, loving you.” When your gaze shifted to meet his, he continued. “You asked me that night on the trampoline if I still loved you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Swallowing your tears, you threw the cotton ball onto the table at your side and reached for the gauze to tape around his cuts.

“Why didn’t you say that at the time? You just left.”

“I hated that I made you think for one minute that I didn’t. That I made you…question it.”

Biting your cheek, you wonder if you should tell him what’s on your mind but since he’s being so open, you wanted to return the favor.

“I’ve been wondering for a while. I just feel like we aren’t the same, you know? I’ve spent so much time going over our marriage wondering what happened. Wondering…what I did wrong.”

When your voice cracked, Eddie scooted closer to you and took his hand out of your grasp to lift your face.

“You did nothing wrong, Y/N. Do you hear me?”, he replied sternly as his thumb tried to catch any lingering tears that fell. “If anything, I did. There were times I saw myself becoming my father and—”

“Eddie Munson, what the fuck are you talking about? You are nothing like your dad.”

Shaking his head, he released you from his hold as his eyes searched through the void, trying to find the words to express what he was feeling properly.

“Your parents and people in this town always said I was ruining your life especially after I got you pregnant. No, hey. Let me get this out.”, he scolded as your mouth opened to interrupt him. “Please. I told myself they were fucking stupid because no one knew and understood you like I did. I loved my life with you. The first time I heard my last name attached to your first, I felt like the luckiest guy in the world. The first time I held Caleb in my arms, all my fears of being dad just melted away.

It wasn’t until I tried to find us a house but all we could afford and get approved for was this mobile piece of shit.”, he sighs as he gestures around you two. “That was the first time I felt like I failed you but I pushed it down, you know? Then our 5-year anniversary rolled around and I still hadn’t gotten you a proper ring. 10 years and we still couldn’t get a house. When Caleb was nine and you wanted the three of us to go on vacation but that storm blew in and damaged the car so we couldn’t afford it. With every fight and every sad look on your face, I blamed myself but I pushed it away until…”

“Until what?”, you encouraged.

“There was that night I came home and accused you of cheating. I said those things… and then I pushed you… listened to you cover for me with Caleb. I just saw my own childhood and everything my mom went through before she died… I didn’t know how to…”

“Eddie why didn’t you say anything? We could have talked about it. You…”, you sigh as you close your eyes and try to think. “We both said some things that night and…you’re nothing like him, honey. You’ve always been such an amazing father and husband. God…I felt you pulling away and I didn’t know how to get you back. Eddie, if for one moment I thought you were like him I never would have married you.”

“I just didn’t want to hurt you again. I didn’t realize by doing that and keeping my distance so to speak I was anyway. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You wrap your arms around him, hugging him close to your chest.

“I’m sorry to.”, you whimper into his shoulder before pulling back to run your fingers through his hair. “I don’t care about the…house and the ring by the way. As long as I’m with you none of that matters.”

His chocolate eyes search your features before Eddie slightly nods and rises to his feet. You listen to him scrounge around your shared bedroom before he suddenly reappears and places himself beside you again.

“I was going to give this to you on our actual anniversary but I think now is the right time.”, he smiles and hands you a tiny box with purple bow on top.

Smirking his way, you remove the wrapping and time seems to stop as you open the box to see a beautiful ring inside. The red diamond stone was nestled into its nook making it look like a rose with vines circling around the silver band and skulls on either side. Your husband’s gaze continually scanned over your face trying to gage if you liked it or not.

“I, um, it took me a while to save for this but when Caleb got that scholarship for his college I felt more comfortable putting more and more money away for this. I-I-I wanted to make sure it had the skulls since you like my ring so much and then I got the—the red stone because you were always such a welcome contrast to my dark, nerdy lifestyle growing up.”, he chuckles as he watches you slide it slowly onto your finger. “Do you like it? If-If not, I can return it and maybe we can go together—”

Your lips cut him off as they crash to his own.

“It’s perfect, Eddie. I love it. I love you.”

#############

2005

“Oh, mom, don’t cry. I’m not going away forever.”, Caleb teases as he tries to calm you while you cling to him with your arms circled around his waist.

“I can’t help it. I’m just so proud of you.”

Your husband laughs behind you as he steps forward and delicately pries you away from your son.

“Come on, Y/N. Kid has a plane to catch.”

Nodding, you release him fully before tilting up to kiss his cheek.

“Now remember if you need anything—”

“I know, mom! I know. Just call.”, he giggles making you smile.

After taking a step back, Eddie takes a step forward and pulls his son into his embrace. It always amazed you how similar they both looked especially as Caleb got older. Even though your son kept his hair short, the brown waves had a mind of their own making styling a nightmare when he was smaller. As a teenager, he just decided to leave it be and let it run wild on his head. He seemed to have your laugh and nose but his smile and eyes were all Eddie.

“Let us know when you land and tell us how your first day goes. I’m still curious what one does in analytical ethics.”, your husband laughs as Caleb smiles. “I love you, son. I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you to, dad.”

Saying goodbye one last time, you lean into Eddie’s side as you both watch your only child head towards security.

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.”, you answer honestly. “You?”

“I don’t know either. I know I’m going to miss him but I think we did a good job raising him into an adult.”

Turning fully into his chest, he held you tightly to him and gently pet your head as he listened to you cry.

***

Your back hits the hallway wall hard as both your lips refuse to detach from the other. There was a needy, feverish energy between you and Eddie that had spent years building and was now exploding in a flurry of heated touches.

Your hand slid down his chest to the prominent bulge in his slacks and you both groaned as he rolled his hips against your palm.

“Fuck, Eddie, please. Let me…let me taste you. It’s been so long.”

His lips don’t leave yours but you hear the clanking of his belt as he unbuckles it and pushes down his pants. Leaving tender little kisses on his skin along your path down to your knees, your husband exhales heavily when your fingers wrap around him and your tongue licks the little droplets of precum that lingered on the tip.

“Shit, sweetheart. I’ve missed your mouth.”

Pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail, you feel his eyes on you as he mewls and watches you take him all the way to the back of your throat. You bob your head up and down, relishing the sounds of him falling apart as he gradually thrusts his hips against your movements.

Your eyes lock as you glance up, knowing what you’re about to do will drive him crazy. Clinging to his thighs, you descend lower onto his cock, and freeze allowing your throat to constrict around him as you slightly gag.

“FUCK, baby! That’s…That’s it.” When you pull back, you stroke your spit with your hand along his shaft before doing it again and feeling giddy when you see his eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Come…come here, pretty girl.”

Pulling you up by your bicep, you still continue to stroke him while he licks two of his fingers and reaches down to rub your clit as his forehead falls on yours.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet. Listen to how—mmph—how fucking wet she is.”, he whispers as he guides two of his fingers into your entrance. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Y/N. Your—fuck—your little pussy just tightened around my fingers. Do you like hearing me talk to you while my fingers are inside you?”

“Y-Yes. Fuck, yes Eddie. I missed it so much.”

Pressing his body against yours, his arm locked at the elbow as his rhythm hastened.

“Cum for me, princess. I want you to drench my hand so I can smell you. I love the way you smell, taste, and feel. I—oh my God—I love that you’re mine.”

Your arms circle around his shoulders as you cling to him tightly.

“S-Say it again.”

His sexy chuckle has your eyes rolling as he tilts down to kiss the shell of your ear.

“You’re mine, Y/N. You’ve always been mine. You’re my everything, sweetheart.”

Your body trembles as the coil snaps and you grind your hips against his digits to elongate your high.

“More.”

Eddie didn’t waste a second as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bedroom causing you to giggle when he light-heartedly tossed you onto the bed. After pulling off your dress and removing the rest of his own attire, he kissed up your back as you laid on your tummy waiting for him.

“I’m not too heavy right?”, he asks as he lays some of his weight against you.

Pressing your back up against his chest, you twist your head to reach his lips.

“No, baby. You feel good.” Smiling, he reaches between your bodies and guides his cock into your cunt. “F-Fuck, Eddie.”

“I know, sweetie, I know.”, he murmurs as his hand intertwines with yours by your head. “Still so fucking tight.”, he babbles as he does little thrusts to help you get reaccustomed to his size.

You never needed much time; you loved the stretch and the slight delicious burn that followed before pleasure fully took over.

“Please, baby. I need you.”

“You need me, Y/N?”

“Always.”

Trying to keep as much of his weight on his elbows, Eddie began pumping his hips and you both moaned at the feeling of each other again. Throughout the last few years of your marriage, there had been quickies with no real thought behind it, just the need for a release. The last year and a half you two hadn’t done anything at all and it killed you.

Feeling him this close to you as he moaned and whispered in your ear was everything to you and more.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”, Eddie cooed as he brushed some of your hair away from your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Why are you crying?”

“I just…I missed you so much. I know…you’ve been here but…you haven’t really been…here.”

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry. That’s never going to happen again because you know how… I was always waiting for a girl like you…” Your husband grins widely at the sound of your laugh as he lightly continues to sing. “…to come into my life. I love you, Y/N.”

After kissing the back of his hand, Eddie starts thrusting into you again, leaving little pecks below your ear as you moan his name encouragingly. Laying his full weight against your back, he rolls his hips pushing his length so deep inside you, your eyes practically roll out of your skull.

“Fuck, Ed-Eddie. Just like that. So—so deep.”

Tattooed arms wrap around you and your husband brings you with him as he falls onto his side, his palm digging into your thigh as he lifts your leg in the air.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Cum on my dick.” Licking your fingers, you bring them down to rub your clit in fast circles, matching his pace as he pounds into you. “Atta girl. You got it, sweetheart.”

When he felt your body begin to shake, he dropped your leg, hugging you flat against his chest and stomach as he slammed his cock roughly into that sensitive spot inside till you both felt the coil snap once more.

“Ah my God. Good girl. Good girl, baby. I’m gonna cum to.”

“Mmph—please, baby. Cum inside me. Please, Eddie.”

A strangled string of grunts left his lips as he rutted against you till his limbs squeezed you tightly and you felt him warm your insides.

###################

1984

“Oof, Jesus fucking shit!”, Eddie shouted as something hard bumped into his back.

“Edward Munson!”, the librarian whisper screeched his way as he held up his palm to silently apologize.

When he turned around to see what asshole hit him, his intense eyes landed on your worried ones.

“I am so sorry. I was trying to get that book up there but I tripped. I’m so sorry.”

Time seemed to freeze as the metalhead visually took you in. He had seen you around before talking with other members of the student body. You were in a school ran club like Student Council so you seemed to easily flow through each clique even going to the ones your ‘friends’ never seemed to want to talk to.

He remembered Gareth talking about you in passing saying that you were incredibly sweet for a ‘preppy, rich girl’. Looking at you now, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to you than what was on the surface.

“Um, again. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“Huh? Oh, no, excuse me. I’m being an asshole. I’m fine. No, physical damage.”

“But there’s emotional damage?”, you tease eliciting a soft smile from him.

“Of course. It’s not every day a beautiful girl pushes me. I’m going to be expecting that all the time and my hearts going to get broken when it doesn’t.”

“Hm, well, there are plenty of beautiful girls at this school so I promise it will happen again.”

“None of them are as beautiful as you.”

You blinked, taken aback by his confidence as you blushed and smirked his way. Eddie would later tell you he had no idea where that confidence came from but it was always the truth.

The older boy smiled as he reached above you effortlessly to grab the book you had been trying to get before holding it out for you to take.

“I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

After taking the book, you reach into your bag and grab a pen before taking a hold of his arm. When your fingers touched his skin, an electricity ignited through him that he had never felt before and he had to control the urge to hug you to his chest.

“That’s my phone number, Eddie Munson. You should call me some time. I’ll be home after school today… around 4.”

“O-Okay. I’ll, um, I mean I should be free around that time.”

Eddie flushed with embarrassment as he tried to come off as nonchalant as you giggle lightheartedly at him stuttering over his words. He learned in that moment he adored the sound of your laugh.

“I can’t wait. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

***

You stirred at the sound of your phone ringing, reaching over to grab the cordless from the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Shit. Hey, mom. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, baby. It’s alright. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to check in since I know last night was grandma and grandpa’s charity thing. Everything go alright or were they rude as usual?”

“Rude as usual.”, you sigh as you roll onto your back and grin at Eddie’s completely knocked out frame. “Your father punched somebody.”

“Oh, go dad.”, he laughed. “I’m sure that person deserved it knowing him. I’m really sorry. Grandma and Grandpa are old fashioned, you know? Maybe one day they’ll catch up with the times.”

“Yeah but if not that’s ok. I have you both.”

“Yeah…I love you, mom. I loved my childhood and I’m proud to be your son; you and dad. Fuck, Hawkins.”

“Caleb…you’re going to make me cry.”, you start to hiccup before he giggles again. “Did you want to talk to Eddie?”

“Naw, let him sleep and I’ll talk to him later. I’d text him but he hasn’t quite figured that part of technology out yet.”

“Oh yeah no. When it comes to technology, he turns into Wayne. ‘Why are the buttons so small? Why do I have to push it four times to get to one letter!’”, you mimic as you and your son laugh.

“You two are rude.”, Eddie responds groggily as he rubs his eyes with his hands.

“Uh oh, Caleb. We got caught.”, you tease. “Alright, baby. Have fun and we’ll talk to you later. I love you.”

“Love ya, kid.”, your husband mumbles as you try to tilt the phone closer to him.

“Love you guys to.”

After hanging up the phone, you roll onto your side and curl up into his chest as his fingers start to play with your hair.

“What did the butthead want?”

“He was calling to check in about the charity thing last night. I told him you fought for my honor.”

“Hm, yeah I did.”, he smiles. “And so did you. ‘It’s Y/N Munson.’”, Eddie mimes in a high-pitched voice with his grin growing as you laugh.

As he settles, your eyes trace over his tattoos on his chest and the man softly sighs when your fingers trace over yours and your son’s name.

“I love you, Edward Munson. I know we’ve had our bumps but I don’t resent my life with you. Every day with you and Caleb has been an adventure. I’m excited to see where we go from here.”

His eyes that had previously been closed fluttered open when you finished speaking and he carefully rolled onto his side to face you.

“I love you to, Y/N Y/L/N. I meant what I said last night. I promise to be more open with my feelings and talk to you. I don’t want us to go back to how things have been. We have the rest of our lives to be together and we’re going to make the most of it.”

You smile as you press your body to his chest and nuzzle your nose into his neck.

“From the moment I wake up 'til deep in the night. There's nowhere on earth that I'd rather be than holding you tenderly.”

Eddie chuckles in his throat as you sing, tilting your head back so he can kiss your lips again before whispering, “I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life. I've been waiting for a girl like you, you're a love that will survive.”

####################

@myherometalhead @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart

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