#so I’m dehydrated from whispering

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I think I’ve been horribly burned out for the past year ahaha

[deebris]

Save you from yourself

Silco (from Arcane) x Wife reader

Synopsis: The tender moment between you and your daughter, Jinx, is interrupted by your sudden fainting, and Silco takes control of the situation.

Warnings: Fainting, self-neglect, based on real symptoms of dehydration, the reader is a motherly figure for Jinx, and Silco is somewhat possessive in the end, angst with fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

Zaun tonight was surprisingly quiet. For the first time in a long time, you could hear the water flowing through the windows of your room, and a cool breeze carried the scent of your daughter’s freshly washed hair through the corners. It was an incredibly comforting moment to care for her blue locks; it always brought an inexplicable peace to your mind. You really needed it after the exhausting day you had.

The affection that surrounded those moments, with both of you sitting on your bed, gently running your fingers through her strands and laughing at how Jinx always ended up sleepy, warmed your heart. But tonight, that warmth felt strange and discomforting. You tried to ignore a sudden dizziness and the chills, keeping the window open as you brushed through her long hair to continue braiding it. Was tiring work, but you loved.

“Is it going to take much longer?” she asked impatiently, something you had already expected. Complaining about the time was part of Jinx, but you took it with indifference.

“I’m almost halfway,” you tried to reassure her with a gentle, maternal tone, something she liked. “Just this one left.”

“Ugh, I hate when it takes so long,” she grumbled irritably, throwing herself back into your lap. Her movement made your hands lose the strands, messing up part of what you had done.

“Jinx!” you called her name, annoyed, but softened when you felt her cling to you even tighter, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in your belly. Her body started warming yours even more, pushing the cold away, and you stayed silent, appreciating the closeness.

“Can we do it later?” she asked in a low voice, almost needy. Jinx had a thing with physical contact; it was something she appreciated when it came from the right people. That’s why she was now closing her eyes while you stroked her cheek and the side of her head.

“It’s going to be harder to fix,” you tried to argue, struggling with the duality of wanting to stay cuddled with her or return to the hard work of finishing her hair.

“You’re warm,” she murmured, and you couldn’t see, but she furrowed her brow, feeling your body temperature against her pressed cheek.

“I think so,” your whisper came without weight, not caring about the statement. Or maybe you just didn’t have the strength to think properly anymore.

You felt drained, and your daughter had noticed your lack of energy when she took your hand to play with your fingers, interlacing them in a sort of waltz but seeing how you barely reacted to her movements, letting her have fun on her own. And you always used to play along.

“Let me finish,” you asked with much effort, confused by the new sign of your condition that had just emerged: a sharp pain in your forehead. But it wasn’t common for you to get headaches.

Luckily, Jinx obeyed without further rebellion. She stood up to allow you to finish what you had started. She pulled her legs up to her chest on the bed, pouting with a dissatisfied expression while she felt you place the golden pins.

When you had just finished braiding, your fingers fell, sliding down the braid’s length, as if keeping your arms raised for just one more second was extremely difficult. And it was.

Your dizziness worsened, leaving your limbs weak, and now you couldn’t avoid feeling a hint of nervousness as your breathing became irregular, along with the dryness in your throat.

“My love, can you close the window?”

Your request alarmed Jinx, who turned toward your voice but not enough to look directly at you. Hesitant, she stood up, and when she returned, a look of confusion took over her face.

“What...?” The word got stuck as she quickly approached, placing one hand on your back and the other on your shoulder. “What’s going on?” Her desperate tone cut through you like a blade, filling your chest with guilt.

“I... I think I’m not feeling well.” You tried to hold back the tears, but your trembling voice betrayed the effort. Just a few tears fell, as if they had run out, and the pain in your muscles and joints, which had started as a discomfort in the morning, had become unbearable. The discomfort had been easy to ignore before, but now it seemed impossible to divert your attention from it.

You hadn’t paid much attention to the dizziness that had disrupted your day, but sitting for a moment seemed to amplify all the symptoms. Maybe they had always been there, silently growing, until they reached this point.

“Say something!” Jinx’s voice sounded choked, pulling you out of the haze. You tried to open your eyes, but it was hard. She was scared—you could feel it in the way her hands trembled as she held your face. She shook you gently, the urgency clear in every movement. “Don’t close your eyes!” she screamed, her voice breaking as darkness overtook your vision.

When consciousness started to return, you opened your eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the dimness of the room. A faint light illuminated the room enough for you to realize you were lying down, now wrapped in a blanket. Your hearing seemed muffled, as if you were submerged, but amid the confusing sounds, Silco’s voice emerged.

He was calling for Jinx, trying to calm her. “Jinx, listen,” he repeated, his voice deep and firm, but filled with concern. His tone seemed to seek her attention, trying to contain the emotional storm that was overwhelming the girl. “Jinx, I told you it is fine. It is nothing serious.”

Silco’s deep voice, usually so controlled, was now filled with a disturbance he could barely disguise. As he spoke, he repeated those words mentaly, as if trying to convince not only her but also himself that this was just a temporary illness.

“B-but...” Her voice broke, and the rest of the words got stuck in her throat. Jinx seemed unable to look directly at her father; her eyes nervously scanned the room, searching for an answer where there was none. “She... she just suddenly got like this.”

“Was not sudden, Jinx.” Silco took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “We just did not notice before.” He adjusted his tone, seeking a firmness he didn’t feel, hoping to convey some confidence. “It is common. People get sick all the time. She will be fine.”

He continued, repeating the words like a mantra, silently praying they were true.

“Do you promise?” Jinx’s question came loaded with urgency, almost like an ultimatum.

Silco hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard at the weight of that word. Promising meant more than just reassuring her; it meant banishing any possibility of loss or failure. He knew he couldn’t say “yes” lightly, but he also couldn’t imagine denying that reassurance to his daughter.

His gaze shifted behind him, seeking your figure lying down. When he noticed you trying to sit up, despite visible effort, Silco felt an unexpected relief. It was a sign, even if small, that gave him the strength to respond firmly.

“I promise.” His voice came low but firm, as he squeezed Jinx’s shoulders, trying to convey a security he could barely feel.

Jinx followed her father’s gaze, and upon seeing you move, her behavior shifted instantly. With the frantic energy characteristic of her, she ran to you.

“Calm down!” Silco tried to call to her, but she was already on top of you.

You, however, were lost in confusion. Your mind felt like a blur, and the unbearable weight on your eyelids made it impossible to react or understand what was happening. The last thing you felt was Jinx’s hesitant touch, quickly replaced by the touch of calloused hands, before everything went dark again.

Silco watched as your eyes opened and closed again, what seemed like the thousandth time that night. It was as if you were waging a battle against your own consciousness and body, trying to hold onto reality as it slipped through your fingers.

He hadn’t slept. He had spent the night by your side, patiently waiting for that moment when you would finally wake up for real. Making sure you didn’t hurt yourself with the needle stuck to your wrist, connecting you to the IV that kept your body hydrated, had been an exhausting task. Every time you briefly stirred, it seemed like you were compelled to move your arms, as if testing your own strength, and he found himself forced to intervene.

“I thought you were going to pass out again,” he murmured, his voice low and strangely gentle, something rare coming from him. He carefully placed his hand on your forehead, checking the fever that, to his relief, was starting to subside.

“What do I have?” you asked, the words coming out slowly as your mind pieced together recent memories and adjusted to your surroundings.

Silco let out a long sigh, somewhere between irritation and relief. The corner of his lips curved into a dry smile, as if he found the situation so absurd it was almost comical, yet no less serious.

“You spent the whole day without drinking water.” His voice carried a hint of exasperation and he carefully brushed away the hair that was sticking to your face. “Dehydration. How, for the love of everything, did you not feel thirsty?”

His question was genuine, a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, feeling small and stupid under his analytical gaze.

Silco didn’t say anything more right away. Instead, his eyes studied you for a moment longer than necessary before he leaned back in the chair next to the bed.  

“Whatever the reason, this will not happen again,” he declared firmly, his voice carrying a tone almost possessive as he crossed his arms, as if imposing his will on the universe itself.

“Sorry,” you said, the weakness still evident in your voice, but there was also a trace of embarrassment, making your words almost a whisper.

He watched you in silence, his gaze fixed as you stared at the pillow. Even pale and visibly fragile, you were still the most beautiful woman he had ever known. The soft moonlight illuminated your face, highlighting a few strands of your hair, and in that moment, something inside him softened. The hard expression he always carried melted away, replaced by a rare tranquility—a surrender to the simple relief of seeing you there, breathing.

You saw the IV, something Singed must have done, and noticing it was almost empty, Silco carefully leaned forward to remove the needle. His movements were almost methodical, but there was an uncommon tenderness. His fingers slid lightly over the skin of your wrist before touching the catheter, and that seemingly small gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if, in that touch, he wanted to send you a message: I’m here, and I will be gentle.

“Jinx will be on your case the whole week,” he stated casually, though his tone was firm, as if warning you about your foolishness that caused all this.

You laughed, the weakness in your voice softened by the playful tone. “I can handle it.”

Slowly, you pulled his fingers, as an invitation for him to come closer. Silco accepted without hesitation, climbing onto the bed beside you. He positioned himself behind you, wrapping his body around you in an embrace that, though silent, carried a desperate intensity.

His hands tightened around your waist, the fingers interlacing as if he feared that if let go, you might slip away. The warmth of Silco’s breath brushed against your neck, bringing with it the scent of the cigars he always smoked. On anyone else, or in any other situation, the smell would have been overpowering, almost repulsive, but from him, there was something strangely comforting about it. It was a subtle reminder that, despite everything, he was there—solid, present, and, above all, familiar.

Silco squeezed your waist tighter, his deep voice cutting through the silence, almost a controlled growl as he whispered against your ear:

“Do you really think you will achieve something important if you forget the basics? Forget to drink water, to take care of yourself… That is not just foolishness, it is pure recklessness.”

He held you close, his eyes wandering to a distant point in the room, as if searching for something to focus on, while trying to make you understand the weight of his words. Silco knew you had this habit of putting yourself second, neglecting your own needs for what you thought was more urgent or important.

“Stop putting yourself at risk like this,” he continued, his voice firmer, “or I woll not have any choice but to take care of everything.”

His voice, cold and incisive, sounded almost like an attempt at humor, but you knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t one for jokes. Silco didn’t care for casual remarks, and the lightness in his tone was just a mask for the frustration he felt. You worried so much about not overburdening him that you ended up ignoring your own well-being, making his biggest concern a reality: he would have to carry the weight for you.

“I take care of you… even if I have to save you from yourself,” he whispered, almost like a mantra. The words were both a promise and a necessity. He was speaking to himself, trying to reaffirm his own position, and you didn’t dare interrupt him. You just cuddled closer to his body, feeling the warmth and firmness of his words as a protection that, somehow, also felt like a prison.

[matt-murdockk]

Time

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

words: 2.8k

summary: On their wedding night, (Y/n) disappears in Matt’s arms-blipped without warning. For five years, he mourns her, tormented by grief and hallucinations. When she returns, unchanged, he’s convinced she’s not real. (angst mostly with fluff ending)

warnings: angst, cussing, lack of proofreading rip, set in infinity war - endgame timeline (reader getting blipped, etc)

a/n: Listen, my boy Matt is the PERFECT practice for writing angst. I just like to put him in situations and watch him like he's in a fish tank and I'm outside tapping on the glass. This man absolutely cannot catch a break and while I am partially to blame (cause I'm writing it this time), just how Matt is written in general is in a way that it just makes sense to put him through shit. He is a walking amalgam of Catholic Guilt, adrenaline, and poor decision making and I love him so much. This one is a boatload of angst but I threw in some fluff in the ending because well, we deserve good things.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The apartment door creaked open with the softest thud, and then her back hit it as Matt pressed her gently against the wood, lips grazing her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. He was smiling.

That rare, devastating smile he only wore when it was just them.

“You’re supposed to carry me across the threshold, remember?” she whispered, breathless with laughter.

“Oh, I didn’t forget,” Matt murmured. “Just wanted a moment alone with my wife first.”

Wife.

The word made her stomach flip in a good way- warm and giddy and ridiculous.

He scooped her up easily, one arm beneath her knees, the other at her back, and she looped her arms around his neck like she’d never let go. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“I’m legally required to now,” he said with a smirk. “It’s in the vows. Carry you everywhere. Worship the ground you walk on. Try not to lose my mind over how good you look in that dress.”

“Flawless delivery, Murdock,” she teased. “Truly. I can tell you definitely wrote your own vows.”

He chuckled against her shoulder as he carried her through the doorway into the quiet, dimly lit apartment. Candles flickered. Soft music still hummed faintly from the speaker they forgot to turn off before the ceremony.

And for a second- just one perfect second- it was all stillness. Just them. Just this.

He set her down gently, hands lingering at her waist. They kissed again, slower now. Softer. Everything feeling like it had finally settled into place. She pressed her forehead to his, heart beating a little too fast.

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“I’ll beat you to it,” he murmured, eyes closing, nose brushing hers. “You’re here. You’re mine. We made it.”

She smiled, eyes glassy. “We did.”

They stood there for a while. Just holding each other. Breathing the same air. Wedding bands warm against skin.

But then-

She shifted slightly in his arms. Her brows furrowed.

“Matt?”

He straightened a little, instantly alert. “Yeah?”

“I feel... weird.”

He tilted his head, concern filtering through his features. “Weird how?”

She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I don’t know. It’s like- I just got dizzy all of a sudden. Like the room’s moving.”

Matt gently guided her toward the couch, helping her sit down. “Okay. Just breathe. You might be dehydrated. Or just- adrenaline crash.”

She tried to smile. “Yeah. Big day. Lots of emotions. Too many speeches.”

She stood too fast. Her hand slipped from his.

“Careful,” Matt said, already reaching for her again. “Take it slow- ”

“I think I need to throw up,” she mumbled, voice shaky.

“Okay, yeah,” he nodded, already guiding her. “Bathroom’s just- ”

She staggered.

Her balance tipped.

Matt caught her by the waist before she could fall. “Hey. Hey, I got you. It’s okay- ”

She didn’t answer.

Her body felt... lighter. Unsteady. Like her weight was shifting in his arms.

He tilted his head, trying to focus on her. “(Y/n)? You with me?”

She looked up at him.

Confused.

Scared.

“M-Matt, I...”

And then her voice just- cut out.

His arms were suddenly empty.

He blinked.

No sound. No step. No breath.

Just... gone.

The faintest warmth lingered against his fingertips- and then something like dust scattered through them.

“What the- ?” he whispered, stepping back. “(Y/n)?”

His hand shook. Her scent was still in the room. Her heartbeat-

No. No, that wasn’t right.

He turned, listening harder, straining his senses.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

The silence grew louder. His throat closed up.

“(Y/n)?”

He moved down the hallway. Checked the bathroom. The bedroom. “(y/n), c’mon. Say something.”

No heartbeat. No motion. Not even the creak of a floorboard. Like she’d never been there. Matt’s chest started to cave in.

“Okay, this isn’t- this doesn’t make sense,” he muttered. “Maybe you passed out. Maybe you hit your head. Maybe- ”

His foot bumped something.

Her ring.

Her wedding ring.

Lying on the floor.

His knees hit the hardwood before he could stop them. “No.”

He crawled forward, hands blindly reaching, as if she might be hidden just out of reach.

“(Y/n)!” His voice cracked. “Where are you?!”

Still nothing.

Just the flicker of the candles.

Just the soft sound of ash settling.

“No, no- God, no!” He stood again. Stumbled. Slipped.

“(Y/n)!” He shouted so hard it tore something in his throat. “Talk to me!”

He made it to the front door. Opened it. Nothing. No one. No footsteps. No sounds of retreat. Matt’s breathing picked up. His fingers trembled as he unlocked his phone, nearly dropping it before hitting Call.

Foggy.

It rang once. Twice-

Pick up.

The sound of the city outside had changed. He could hear it.

Screaming. Tires screeching. Glass shattering six blocks over. Someone crying for help. Sirens multiplying like wildfire. It all surged into his head at once- too much, too fast.

He pressed his palm against his ear, gritting his teeth. “Too loud. I can’t- ”

Click.

“Matt?” Foggy answered, out of breath. “Hey, shouldn’t you be- ?”

“She’s gone,” Matt said immediately, voice fraying. “Foggy- she was right here, and then she just... disappeared.”

“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?”

“I mean she turned to ash in my hands,” Matt snapped, breath catching. “I was holding her. She said she felt sick and then- then she just... she was gone.”

There was a pause.

“Matt, hang on- wait- ” Foggy’s voice shifted, panic creeping in. “I think... Matt, something’s happening. It’s not just her.”

Matt stilled. “What do you mean?”

“I’m outside and people are vanishing. Right in front of me. There was a guy walking beside me- just turned to dust. A woman screaming for her kid, and the kid vanished. A guy in a cab just disappeared behind the wheel, Matt. It crashed into a light post.”

Matt pressed a hand to the center of his chest like he could anchor himself to the sound of Foggy’s voice. But even that was drowned out by the chaos around him.

“I can’t hear her,” he whispered. “Her heartbeat- her breathing- it’s just gone. Like she was never here, foggy.”

Foggy’s voice came through again, strained and tense. “It’s happening everywhere. I can’t keep up. There’s shouting, people running- I think half the crowd outside just vanished. I’m not exaggerating.”

Matt stumbled toward the couch, hand landing on the coffee table. “She was right here.”

“I’m coming to you,” Foggy said quickly. “Stay there, Matt. Don’t go outside- Jesus Christ, someone else just- ”

The line crackled. Cut out. Came back.

Matt’s hands were shaking as he reached for the remote.

The TV flicked on.

"...mass disappearances reported in New York, Chicago, London- this is now confirmed to be a global event..."

Footage played- Times Square chaos. Pedestrians turning to dust mid-step. News anchors looking off-camera in horror. Phones on the ground. Car alarms going off in every direction.

“We are receiving reports that approximately half the world’s population has- vanished.”

The camera panned to a child’s stuffed toy, untouched, lying in a pile of ash. Everything was still. Except the noise. And the empty space beside him on the floor.

“She was right here,” he said again, softly. Like it might undo it.

“She was right here.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

five years later

She came back mid-step.

One foot lifted toward the bathroom- and when it landed, everything was wrong.

The apartment was darker. Colder. Rearranged.

The soft glow from the corner lamp was unfamiliar. The kitchen counter had a different crack. The rug was new. The air carried a different scent- like dust and time and a city that had moved on without her.

“Matt?” she called, voice hoarse.

Silence.

She stepped further in. The living room looked lived-in, but not by her. Not anymore. Not for a long time. The coffee table was cluttered with open case files. There was a cane by the door she didn’t recognize. Her heart pounded faster.

“Matt-?”

And then he was there. He stood in the doorway like he’d been carved from stone, unreadable and unmoved. Then, quietly- too calmly- he said, “So. You’re back.”

She stopped cold.

“Matt-”

He tilted his head slightly, almost as if studying her. “Took longer this time.”

“What…?” she breathed.

“Usually you show up around hour thirty-six,” he said, like it was a fact. “Right after the exhaustion hits but before the whiskey does anything useful.”

Her stomach twisted. “Matt, I’m not-”

“Don’t,” he cut in, sharp. “Don’t do that.”

She swallowed hard. “This isn’t what you think.”

“No?” His voice was soft, even, lethal. “Because it looks a hell of a lot like every other time I’ve lost my mind and imagined you standing in this room.”

(Y/n) blinked, her chest rising and falling too fast. “Matt, I- I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, no trace of humor. “You wouldn’t.”

“I was just- I felt sick and then it was cold, and everything looked wrong and-" Her words tangled, tripping over each other. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t answer.

“Matt?”

Nothing.

She took a tentative step forward. “Please. Say something. What happened? What- what’s going on?”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His voice, when it came, was low and sharp, like a scalpel slicing through skin without even trying.

“Don’t do this to me again.”

Her breath caught. “What- what do you mean, again?”

“I know your routine now,” he said, voice tightening with each word. “You show up, confused. You ask questions. You cry. And then just when I start to believe you might be real- when I almost let myself feel something again- you vanish.”

“Matt, I don’t- ”

“No,” he snapped. “Stop. Just stop.”

She froze. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his jaw locked, eyes unreadable.

“You know what it’s like to bury someone without a body, (Y/n)?” he asked. “To sit in this apartment with your ring in my hand, trying to convince myself that ash on the floor was all that was left of you?”

She shook her head, tears spilling freely now. “I don’t remember anything-”

“Exactly,” he said, bitter. “You never do. That’s the trick, isn’t it? You pretend like you’re all confused. Like you don’t know what’s happening. And I- I fall for it. Every time. Like an idiot.”

“Matt- please, just listen to my heartbeat-”

“I did,” he cut in. “I’ve heard it before. Right before it disappears.”

Her lips trembled. “I swear I’m not-”

“You don’t get to do this,” he said, his voice suddenly shaking, but no less cruel. “You don’t get to come back here like nothing happened. Like you didn’t leave me bleeding on the floor that night. Like I didn’t spend years trying to claw my way out of what you left behind.”

“I didn’t leave you,” she whispered.

“But you’re dead,” Matt hissed, stepping close enough for her to feel the heat off his skin. “You died. And whatever this is- this illusion, this dream- it doesn’t change that. You don’t get to hurt me again.”

He said it like a closing statement. Like a sentence passed down after a trial that never had a chance. But he didn’t stop there.

“You think this is easy for me?” he went on, voice low, cracking at the edges now. “You think I want to keep seeing you in doorways? Hearing your voice when I close my eyes? You think I haven’t begged for it to stop?”

(Y/n) stood frozen, lips parted, tears streaking silently down her face.

“I have spent five years trying to forget the exact way you said my name before you disappeared. Five years trying not to hear it in someone else’s mouth. Five years waking up thinking you might be there- just once- and then realizing that all I’ve got left is a bed that’s too big and silence that’s too loud.”

He was pacing now, hands in his hair, breathing hard, unable to stop himself.

“You were my wife. You were supposed to be the rest of my life. And I had you for minutes. You were ripped out of my arms before I even got to love you properly. Do you understand that? Do you even get what you left behind?”

“Matt-”

“I grieved you like a man who’d never believe in God again,” he growled. “I went back to that night a thousand times in my head-wondering if I missed something, if I could’ve saved you, if I’d just done one thing different-”

“Matt-”

“I begged,” he snapped. “I begged God to bring you back. I lost everything trying to survive you. And now you show up here, looking exactly the same, like time hasn’t touched you, like you’re just picking up where you left off- like you didn’t burn me to the fucking ground-”

“Matt.”

She said it once.

Quietly.

And then she reached for him.

He flinched on instinct, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, gently, deliberately, she took his hand in hers- still trembling from the weight of his words- and guided it up between them.

To her chest. To her heartbeat. Right there. Steady. Real. Alive. His breath hitched. She kept his hand pressed there, fingers wrapped around his wrist like she could anchor him to this one undeniable truth.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m not in your head. I don’t know how or why or what the hell happened, but I’m here.”

Matt didn’t move at first. Just stood there, hand pressed to her chest, like he didn’t trust what he was feeling. Like it might stop if he acknowledged it out loud. Then- suddenly- he let out a shaky breath and pulled her into him, hard.

His voice was muffled against her shoulder. “What the fuck.”

Her hands gripped his shirt like she was afraid he’d drop her again. “Yeah, what the fuck. I don’t know what’s happening.”

He laughed once, breathless and half-broken. “Yeah. Me neither.”

They just stood there for a second. Breathing each other in. Trying to recalibrate. Then, against his chest, she mumbled, “You look like shit, by the way.”

It slipped out before she could stop it. Matt let out an actual laugh- short, incredulous, almost like it startled him.

“That’s not funny,” he said, wiping at his eyes, still half-laughing.

She smiled weakly. “Little bit funny.”

He shook his head, still not quite believing any of it. “God, I missed you.”

And then he kissed her.

Desperate and real and messy- too much force, too much urgency, like he didn’t trust it to last. His hands found her face, holding her like he needed proof she was solid. She kissed him back just as hard, fingers in his hair, anchoring him to now. To her.

It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real. And that was enough.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a little bonus content because well it was funny in my head

A few days later

She was curled up next to him on the couch, legs tangled, one of his old hoodies hanging off her shoulder. The TV was on, volume low, neither of them really watching.

She was still catching up- on everything. The blip. The aftermath. The years she missed. Sometimes it hit her like a freight train. Other times, like now, it just snuck up and poked her in the ribs.

She turned to look at him, brow furrowed. “Wait a second.”

Matt tilted his head toward her. “Uh-oh.”

She sat up a little. “So… technically, you’re five years older than me now?”

He blinked. “That’s what you’re choosing to focus on right now?”

“It’s a valid question,” she insisted, grinning. “I married a man my age, not some grizzled thirty-something.”

He scoffed. “Grizzled?”

“I mean, I don’t see any grey hairs, but-”

“I’m blind, not deaf. I heard that smirk.”

She tried to hold back a laugh. Failed. “So you’re like… what, thirty-eight?”

“Thirty-seven,” he corrected flatly.

“Oh no. I married an older man.”

Matt deadpanned, “And I married a time traveler. Guess we’re even.”

She bumped her shoulder into his. “You gonna start calling me ‘kid’ now?”

He turned toward her, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth. “Only if you want to see how fast a five-year age gap doesn’t matter.”

Her face flushed. “Okay, grandpa.”

Matt groaned. “Regret. Immediate regret.”

She laughed, leaning back into him again, warm and solid and finally, finally real.

“Still married me,” she said, smug.

“Still would,” he replied, without hesitation.

And that shut her up for a minute.

[starkeysbunny]

fashion killa

cause she a fashion killa, and i’m a trendy ….

pairing - drew x model!baddie!gf!reader

summary - when drew heads to coachella for the first time with his girl, who’d been many times due to her job. the it couple known for their fashion sense, dancing in tune to songs at the festival rials up both them, and the crowd.

warnings - sexual tension :p

⠀.ᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ೃ❀࿔˙ ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ೃ❀ᮬ࿔˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ೃ❀࿔˙ ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ೃ❀ᮬ࿔˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ

the sun was beating down harshly, gusts of wind blowing dust all around. i felt drew’s arm pull me closer under his grasp. his strong bicep, wrapped around my shoulders.

“baby, ‘should pull the bandana up.” he says gently, his fingers reaching around by my neck to fiddle with the bandana wrapped around it.

“it’s too hot. i’ll get sweaty.” i mumble.

he sighs, his hand coming up to run through his hair. “but dust is gonna get all in your-“

“not happening.” i smile softly, turning my head to look up at him.

he chuckles, his hands lifting in mock surrender, his arm stays wrapped around my shoulder though. “alright, alright. i’ll stop.”

drew and i were at coachella. he’d never been before, and i go nearly every year. after the first two times, it wasn’t because i wanted to go anymore. it was because brands would hire me to go just so they could design my outfits for the three day festival in the palm springs dessert heat.

so naturally, drew and i being together for the past eight months, it was his turn to be dragged along to this event.

“i don’t get the hype. i mean, yeah, it’s fun, whatever. but like, why pay all this money to be severely dehydrated and covered in dust for three days?” he had told me earlier while we were ironically enough, in the encapsulated and air conditioned vip tent.

we were currently watching doja cat’s set. we stood in the vip section near the front, which was to the left side of the stage by the regular ga pit.

i was wearing a low rise denim skirt that barely held in my ass, a vintage chanel crop, paired with givenchy boots and my layers of gold jewelry. bangles on my wrists, a necklace, hoops, and many, many rings.

while drew, of course, wore his carhart brown work pants, and a loewe white tee, with a blue bandana wrapped around his head.

doja cat was currently playing, starting her song agora hills. i turn slightly to reach into my shoulder bag—which was on drew’s shoulder because why would i carry it when i had him? i grab a piece of gum, sticking it between my glossed lips.

i look up at drew to see him already grinning down at me. the slight scruff growing around his jaw and the mullet peeking out behind his neck making my stomach flutter. “want a piece?” i ask sweetly.

he shakes his head. “nah, thank you though, baby.”

i close up my purse and pat it gently as it rests comfortably, secure in drew’s bicep.

i turn back to face the stage, drew’s arm now fully wrapped around my chest, his hand grasping onto the opposite shoulder as he holds me close against his chest. i sway against him, my hips moving as i watch the performance. i chuckle when i hear a certain part of the song that i knew.

i look up at drew from my spot against his chest, a smug smile on my lips.

“rub it in their face,” i begin reciting the lyrics, my hand lightly tapping against his chest at each accent in the lyrics. “put a rock on her hand.” i raise my eyebrows, wiggling my left hand in his face teasingly.

he smirks, a small snicker escaping his lips. i turn back to the stage and i feel him lean down slightly, his lips snaking against my ear. “don’t worry, baby.” he whispers. “one day you’ll be walking down the runway with a rock on your hand. my little wifey.” he teases, gently biting down on my ear playfully.

i smile, feeling his arm pull me tighter into his chest. my manicured nails come up to hold onto his forearm against me. my eyes drift over to the ga side of the crowd, and see a huge majority of the audience’s phones no longer on doja—but pointed and zoomed in on drew and i’s interaction.

ever since drew and i started dating, the speculations and whispers were circling like wildfire. the it girl model with the new up and coming actor. who wouldn’t talk about it? but we had hoped to keep it private the first couple months—just us, no outside thoughts.

and we did, not officially confirming anything until about our fourth month in. even then, we didn’t actually confirm. our relationship is private, but not a secret. we don’t really post each other, maybe once or twice. but, drew and i couldn’t give two shits about any of it. we knew we were real, and that’s all that mattered.

“oh, they’re gonna eat that shit up, babe.” drew chuckles lowly, catching the same thing i saw.

i shrug. “let them. if all those girls that obsess over you think we’re married, maybe they’ll back off.” i joke with a smirk.

he scoffs. “you think those are your biggest problems? what about all the guys that have a subscription to vogue and cosmopolitan just to see you? i swear walkin’ in to this damn festival, why’d you think my hand was on your ass tryna hold down this little skirt, huh?”

i shake my head with a chuckle, smacking his chest playfully. “you love this skirt.” i turn slightly in his arms, my glossy lips pouting up at him.

he snuggly grins, his hands reaching around and squeezing my ass in the skirt, lifting me slightly with it to bring me closer to his lips. “hell yeah, i do, baby.”

-

it was now ten at night, the air simmering down to a much cooler temperature. drew and i were making our way back to the main stage for the headliner, asap rocky.

we were walking in tune, in the space between the barricade and the stage, security guiding us and trailing us. drew’s arm was lazily draped around my shoulders, my left hand holding his by neck. my bracelet jangle as we walk, my hips swaying in my skirt that had somehow gotten lower as the day went on. i think it was because drew kept pulling is down every chance he got…

my bandana was now wrapped around my head. as we were many drinks in at this point, earlier we were in the vip tent and i was slurring, all over drew as i rambled about how i wanted to match with him, so he helped me and tied my bandana around my head like his.

the crowd scrambled loudly when they noticed us walking by the barricade, screaming, clamoring, flashes from cameras. i grin, when i feel drew instinctively pull me closer into his side, my scantily clad body pulled tight into his warm frame.

“y/n! drew! oh my god!”

“y/n, give me a chance!”

“drew! drew! i love you!”

“you’re so hot, y/n!”

“marry me!”

i giggle under my breath and look up at drew, seeing him roll his eyes subtly at their comments. we finally make it over to the vip section. it was much more crowded now, and drew situated us so i was standing in front of him, pulled flush against his chest so i could watch the show and he could keep an eye on everything.

i hardly needed security when i had drew.

we waited patiently, quietly talking as we waited for the show to start

then, the lights went down, strobe lights flashing as the intro of fashion killa started.

i grin, turning in drew’s arms to face him. “it’s our song!”

he smiles. “it is,” he chuckles lowly.

my arms lace around his neck, his hands finding their home on my hips. i move to the music, a grin on my lips as i move my hips.

“cause she a fashion killa..” i giggle, my head plopping into drew’s chest.

“and i’m a trendy..” he trails off, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

the song continues and i look up at him, my gold jewelry blinging in the lights. he smirks with a chuckle, singing along to the lyrics.

“my bitch a fashion killa, she be..” his hand comes to my ass, tapping it at each beat. “busy,” .. tap. “poppin,” .. tap. “tags.” .. tap.

“she got a lotta prada,” he grabs my hands, extending his arms as he swings me out, then pulls me back in close to him. “that dolce and gabbana,” he chuckles as he bops his head.

i giggle, burying my head in the crook of his neck. he grabs my arms again, his hands sliding up from my forearms to my wrists as he lifts them above my head. “wearin’ all the cartier frames..” he chuckles as he sings with asap.

we continue to dance and i turn around for a part of the song, my back against drew’s chest. i reach into my purse on drew’s shoulder, pulling out my camcorder. i record part of asap singing the song before drew snatches the camera from my hands, making me turn around.

he starts to film me to the song and i chuckle, my hands sliding down my waist to my hips, rolling them, my jewelry dancing with my movements. he groans, throwing his head back. he stops the recording and stuffs the camera back in my bag, his hands quickly coming to my hips and pulling me back into him.

“fuck, baby…” he says under his breath. his hands come up to my cheeks, holding my face close to his. “baby, you and me…” he sings.

“me and you.” i finish with a grin, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug against his chest.

the song continued, drew and i playfully dancing around, singing, hands all over each other. the night went on, drew taking videos of me on the camcorder, me stealing it back taking videos of him. my ass against his front as he rolled my hips against him, drinks making us a bit bolder in public.

almost everyone in the regular ga, somewhere throughout the set, lost their attention off asap, us captivating their gaze instead.

there would be millions of videos online tomorrow of us—but we didn’t care anymore. it wasn’t a secret. it was just private. just us.

-

what i imagine the camcorder looks like at the end of the night… 😝

[beanlot]

simon riley, who’s trudging through the sand, leaving the chopper. his darkened eyes, usually surrounded by smudged ink, has been diluted by sweat; the scorching three-week effort of travelling through mexico, and long before that, the confines of the dingy underground bunker they’d used as a command post.

his eyes squint harshly in response to the sunlight, pupils dilating when he sees your figure in the distance.

his wife, holding his little girl in her arms.

sometimes he feels like a failure. absent, unable to provide - no matter how much you tell him you signed up for this, marrying a man who served; no matter how much you try to reassure him that it’s fine he’s missing his child’s first steps or words.

he hates himself for it.

“look, it’s daddy!” you whisper excitedly, gently bouncing the little human in your arms as he approaches. his eyes have softened, a contrast to their usual aggression.

“hey there, my little angel..” he murmurs, clearing his throat as his hands cautiously take her from you. her eyes are big, bulging with surprise, and quickly glassing up with fearful tears.

great. the cherry on top to let you know you’re a shit father, riley.

“oh, i don’t think she likes the mask..” you murmur, trying to calm her down as she starts bawling in his arms. but he’s quick and selfless, gloved fingers reaching for the hem of his balaclava and slowly peeling it off.

“it’s just me, angel. daddy’s not scary, hm?”

“simon-“ you quickly look around, noting the disorientated faces - because he’d never taken his mask off so carelessly, it wasn’t just habit or a way to hide the torture, but it was second skin.

“it’s fine, love.” he reassures you, because for the second time in his life, he needs to figure out his priorities. and ghost, was starting to go further and further down the list, especially when he looks at his daughter; her big eyes, ones she’d adopted from you, scanning his face with amusing confusion.

she looks like an alien this close up. she’s probably wondering who the frick is this guy?

“see, baby? it’s just me..” he whispers, his desire to protect her strengthening when he feels little hands start touching his eyes.

it makes you laugh. fuck, you’ve been staring with love-heart eyes for ages now.

with your help, he’s sliding off a glove, and tenderly tracing your jaw. he missed this, your skin under his fingertips, his thumb tracing the dark bags under your eyes.

“you’re alright? everything been going smooth whilst i’ve been gone?” he murmurs with concern and doting, “getting enough rest, love?”

“i’m okay. it’s part of the job.” you nod, because you knew what you were getting into when you had the conversation, how long it took just to muster up the courage to say i think i want a baby. you knew what motherhood meant, for you and your marriage.

he admires you for it. and he’ll get on his knees and worship the ground you stand on for providing him with a beautiful family, a warm home when he needs it.

and quite frankly, someone who puts him in his place so effortlessly.

“i missed you, c’mere.” he murmurs, burly arm wrapping around your shoulder and enticing you into his chest, careful not to squish the little one. you’d sway side to side, your heartbeat cudgelling against your chest with his scent; he doesn’t smell that good, but you’re grateful that he’s just here, grateful enough to be smelling his dehydrated sweat and grime.

i missed you too, handsome.

“she’s perfect, ain’t she?” he whispers, letting you step back. his eyes are fixated on his little girl, pupils dilated with adoration; the little eyes stare back, but go to curiously analyse the surroundings not long after.

he breathlessly laughs, watching as the little hands tug at his badge. “looks just like you. thank god..”

you playfully nudge his shoulder, sighing. he looks like he’s daydreaming as he scans her - chubby cheeks that have ate well, little strands of hair, thick lashes that blink in bewilderment as she looks around.

but she’s definitely got his bitch face. she looks like she’s judging all the grown men in here.

“had a talk with the lads, and there’s some discussion about me coming home.” he states, his fingers delicately stroking the back of his little girl’s head, feeling the soft fluff. “permanently.”

“what..? but you love.. but this is al-“

“i know, love. but i just can’t.. be out ‘ere whilst you raise ‘er alone.” he pauses. you know he’s right, it wasn’t devotion that had him stuck to you like glue during the end of your pregnancy, or the birth. it was pure luck.

he wished he could’ve been around to watch your bump grow, sit there each morning whilst you retched into the toilet. he needs to be the man you deserve, the father his daughter deserves.

“i wanna be there, for ‘er and for you.” he murmurs, hand reaching out to graze your cheek affectionately. you missed the scorching heat of his palm, the callousness of the jagged scars tainting it.

it was time for him to pack his shit, scrape away all the baggage and gruel from al-mazrah and las almas. and instead, bathe in the intermingling body warmth of his wife, under the sheets on a thursday evening. praise her for the fine woman she is, kiss at the stretch marks on her hips and stomach from the beautiful life she’d created. sit beside his child as she bashes shapes against the toy sorter angrily, pretend to eat the plastic food she gives him.

it was time for him to forget ghost, just for now, and be simon riley.

[ladsheadcanoncorner]

oooh a new headcanon blog Im excited to see what you do with it ill start with a spicy ask what are the boys like in bed?

starting the spice right off of the bat i love it! thanks for the first ask, dear <3

rating: nsfw, 18+, minors dni cw: smut ✉︎♡: ask box open, tumblr users + anons

✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦♡-✦

Xavier:

We already know from so many of his cards that this man changes the name of the game to love and freakspace

The best way to get what you want from this man is, ironically, denying him whatever he wants

Tease him about his jealousy. Make an offhand comment about Charlie or, god forbid, Lumiere

Xavier is on you in seconds

He likes to push you up against different surfaces and take you from behind to start

Makes the dirtiest comments whispered in the sweetest sounding voice. “I can’t wait to see how well you take me.” “You’re already so wet and we haven’t even started.” “I’m going to show you how much you’re mine.”

Will only move to the bed once you are begging for him to be inside of you

So grabby. Your hair, your chin, your cheeks, your hips, anywhere he can reach to get a better angle inside of you

Loudest moaner punctuated with broken gasps, and he is doing all of it in your ear or with his lips flush against your skin

He likes finishing on the small of your back, watching the way it pools and covers the entirety of your backside

Never beating the sleepy boy allegations, but he will trace comforting circles on your back before falling asleep with you wrapped in his arms

Zayne:

Another contender for renaming the game to love and freakspace

Loves taking you on different surfaces. His office desk, the couch, up against the ladder in his library, in the shower

Has the most desperate sounding moan in the back of his throat whenever you go down on him

He likes positions where your legs can be up on his shoulders so that he can kiss your calves and your thighs. Loves watching you get goosebumps and shiver with pleasure underneath him

Usually steady surgeon hands get shaky when he is close, god you’ll be his undoing every time

One distinct groan and this man is definitely finishing all over your stomach. As a doctor, he’s heard all of the horror stories about accidental pregnancies, but if you get him in the right mood and you're both using protection, he can also be convinced to finish inside of you

If you weren’t doing it in the shower already, Zayne will carry you into the shower to clean up together afterwards

Sometimes this leads to round two, sometimes it ends with him lathering your skin with a touch so gentle you could cry

He’ll kiss every spot he touched to make sure that, even if he was a little rough before, you only feel how much he loves you after

Rafayel:

This man works himself up just thinking about you

Sends you a frenzy of texts that make you think he must be in some sort of mortal danger

When you get to his place, he acts all innocent like you were the one overreacting, but you can see that familiar hunger in his eyes

It doesn’t take long before he is all over you. Hands in your hair and up your shirt, kissing you so deeply that you'd think you were his first drink after days of dehydration

Likes hickeys, giving and receiving

You will be leaving with multiple marks on your neck, your chest, and anywhere else he can reach

He likes positions where the two of you have equal power. He starts on top, then you, then back to him. He’s happy to let you do the work but has no problem taking charge either

Whines and moans when he is close to finishing, he is incredibly vocal

Facial king. Bonus points if it drips down your chin and onto your chest

Most likely to post about taking your girl out to eat after absolutely railing her, but you’re so hungry and happy that you don’t really care

Sylus:

There is a TikTok where a girl is advocating for bringing back dry humping, and the president of this initiative is Sylus 

Nothing drives him crazier than seeing the way you are absolutely losing yourself by just rolling your hips over his. He likes to buck up against you so that you can feel even more pressure too

Also president of the munch club

Does everything so slowly and deliberately because he loves hearing the broken, desperate way his name is coming out of your mouth

In terms of positions, I can see him being down to do whatever you want, but if he had his preference he’d prefer more of the classic ones where he can see your face - each nuance of your expression another clue to how he can pleasure you even better

Has insane stamina and can go all night if you want, but will also call it quits the second you say you want to stop

Breathy sounds and grunts are how you know he is close to finishing

His favorite place to finish is deep inside you (he likes seeing his massive dick twitching all the way up your abdomen), but he’s also a pearl necklace enjoyer

Has a towel warmer by the bed specifically so that he can clean you up with a warm washcloth afterwards

Will never admit it but he loves pillow talk afterwards. The two of you snuggled up in his bed, you laying on his chest while you talk about your day or your plan for tomorrow or the next outfit you want to buy for Mephie. He could listen to you talk for hours, and especially loves the way your kiss-swollen lips look after

Caleb:

He loves nothing more than just seeing you in his space when he comes home from work. The thought of you in his home, all alone, waiting for him makes him rock hard before he even walks through the door

Dominant af (as if his cards/story weren’t enough of a giveaway). Doesn’t waste any time and closes the gap between you with such speed and efficiency you almost don’t realize it until he is kissing you hungrily

You: “Not even a ‘hello?’” Caleb: “I thought I’d show you how much I missed you instead.”

He is a giver, and he prefers pleasuring you in his bed (he’s a big guy, he likes the space)

Will quite literally fuck you into the sheets if you let him. He is gripping the headboard, the bedframe groaning under the sheer strength of his thrusts, and you are helpless to do anything except beg him for more

Lots of “you like that, baby?” and “you’re doing so good for me”

When he gets close, he is the whimpering king. Biting his lip, ragged thrusts, your name and a string of profanities punctuating each whimper

Another guy who I think would absolutely love seeing his dick stretched all the way inside of you when he finishes. Nothing says you’re his more than his come leaking out of you after you’ve been thoroughly fucked

Will cook you your favorite dinner after you’re done, not letting you lift a finger because you were such a good girl for him. The rest of the night you’ll be pampered to your heart’s content

[aneertawrites]

LADS Guys and Their Love Languages ˎˊ˗

fluff!

spicy ver

a/n : this is a quick one to keep u guys fed while i write up some drafts on prideandprejudice!Xavier 😝 pls feel free to request some ideas you’d like me to do while i work on creating a master list 😭

oh, nothing

just thinking about how much i need these men🫠

Xavier - Quality Time

ׂ╰┈➤ Xavier is a man who keeps to himself, not letting many in, so when he chooses to be close, it’s his way of showing care. He’s not the type to declare his feelings in words, but when he’s in your space, unwinding, simply lying next to you—it’s his way of letting you know he feels safe with you, that you’re worth his quiet.

***

Xavier had been quiet all evening, but it wasn’t the usual tension in the air. He’d simply settled on the couch, his body relaxed, his eyes heavy with fatigue.

You glanced at him, noticing how still he was, how comfortable he looked just being in the same space.

Without a word, you sat beside him, and after a moment, he pulled you against him, one arm draping over your shoulders.

“Stay with me,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

You leaned into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. There was no grand gesture, no demands. Just him, content to be there with you, letting everything else fall away.

Zayne - Acts of Service

ׂ╰┈➤ Zayne is emotional, but he’s also practical in the ways that count. He notices things—your posture, your tone, the way you avoid eye contact when you’re burnt out. He responds by taking action: bringing you meds, making you food, forcing you to rest. He’s the “you good?” every two hours, the “drink water” texts, the “I noticed you haven’t eaten” guy—and he does it without making it about himself.

***

“You skipped lunch again,” Zayne said, appearing with a bowl of soup before you could refuse.

You sighed. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re stubborn,” he muttered, setting the food down and flicking on your med scanner.

It beeped once.

“You’re dehydrated. And your sleep cycle’s wrecked.”

You gave him a look. “Did you seriously run a check on me?”

He didn’t flinch. “If I didn’t, would you have told me?”

He sat beside you, pushing the bowl closer. “I’m not doing this because I have to. I’m doing it because I care whether you live long enough to yell at me tomorrow.”

Rafayel - Physical Touch

ׂ╰┈➤ Rafayel is smooth, yes—but underneath the elegance and bravado, there’s something far more intense. He thrives on contact—not for show, but for reassurance. Fingers on your jaw, hands ghosting over your back, a touch to your wrist in a crowd. He needs to feel that you’re real. And when he’s vulnerable, that touch turns reverent.

***

You were pacing again. Rafayel watched in silence from the couch, fingers steepled under his chin.

Then, quietly, “Come here.”

You paused.

“Rafayel, I—”

He was already moving, crossing the room to cup your face in both hands, forehead barely brushing yours. “You’re overthinking again,” he said, voice soft, almost bitter. “Always running from your own head.”

His thumbs stroked your cheeks—slow, grounding.

“I can’t fix what’s in there,” he murmured, “but I can remind you that you’re here. With me.”

You leaned in, and he held you like you were glass. Not fragile—precious.

Sylus - Words of Affirmation

ׂ╰┈➤ Sylus might act tough, but at his core, he’s a romantic. He’s always complimenting you, not just casually but with real meaning. His words are never empty; he speaks with intent, letting you know how much he values you—whether it’s your strength, intelligence, or the way you make him feel. He doesn’t shy away from telling you what he appreciates about you, and he makes sure you know that he sees you in a way no one else does.

***

You were sitting on the couch, mind running in circles, picking apart everything you’d done wrong that day. The noise in your head was getting louder, and you just couldn’t stop.

Sylus stood in the doorway, watching you for a moment before he approached, sitting beside you.

“You’re beating yourself up again,” he said quietly, his gaze steady.

You didn’t answer right away, but he didn’t press. Instead, he simply placed a hand on your knee.

“You’re doing better than you think,” he continued, his voice calm. “You always push yourself to the edge, but you never break.”

He let his words linger, watching you carefully. “You don’t have to be perfect. You’re strong enough without having to prove it every time.”

Caleb - Gift Giving

ׂ╰┈➤ Caleb is curious, excitable, sentimental—and oh so adorable. He expresses affection in the tangible: handmade gadgets, creating you things you need (like a vanity), topping up on your makeup when he sees it’s running out, etc. He gives not out of obligation, but because every item is a moment he wanted to remember with you in it.

***

You returned to your and Caleb’s apartment to find a small, clunky device humming softly on your side table.

You frowned. “What… is this?”

Caleb’s voice piped up from the hall. “Touch the button on the side!”

You did.

A tiny holo sprung up: you and him, side by side, laughing over some half-broken drone.

“It loops our first run back from the toy store together,” he said, peeking in, sheepish. “I know it’s cheesy, but… I liked that day.”

You looked at him.

He shrugged. “So I bottled it. Figured… maybe you liked it too.”

masterlist

Taglist : @etsuniiru @kyokoyya @i-messed-up-big-time @firefly1103 @gracekerzzz @mcdepressed290 @sylusgirlie7 @plzdonutpercieveme

[little-jana]

"Comfort"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mentions of period and vomiting, reader being in pain, use of Y/N

Words: 600

Summary: Crippling period cramps leave you weak and nauseous, and Spencer steps in to take care of you.

a/n: This was requested by anon! Thank you, enjoy!

The pain comes in waves, sharp and unrelenting, twisting your stomach into knots. It’s bad this time—worse than usual. You had barely managed to drag yourself from bed before the nausea hit, and now you’re curled up on the bathroom floor, weak and shivering.

The sound of your phone buzzing on the counter is distant, but you know who it is before even looking. Spencer.

You reach for it with trembling fingers, barely managing to press accept before whispering, “Hey.”

There’s a pause. “(Y/N)?” His voice is already concerned, picking up on the strain in yours. “Are you okay?”

You swallow hard, closing your eyes. “Cramps,” you murmur. “Bad ones.”

Spencer is silent for half a second—calculating, probably. “Have you taken anything? Are you drinking enough water? How’s your—”

You cut him off with a weak laugh. “Spence, I can’t even move.”

That does it. “I’m coming over.”

You try to protest, but the call has already ended.

Fifteen minutes later, your apartment door swings open—thank god you gave him a key—and the sound of hurried footsteps reaches your ears. “(Y/N)?”

“In here,” you croak.

Spencer appears in the doorway, eyes scanning you with full-blown concern. He doesn’t hesitate before kneeling beside you. “You look pale,” he murmurs, brushing damp hair from your face. “Have you thrown up?”

You nod weakly.

He exhales softly and, without another word, hooks his arms beneath you, lifting you as if you weigh nothing. “Let’s get you back in bed,” he says, voice gentle.

You don’t argue. You barely have the strength to keep your eyes open as he carries you, setting you down with the utmost care. The warmth of your blankets feels heavenly as he tucks them around you.

“I brought some things,” Spencer says, reaching into his bag. “A heating pad—it helps with uterine contractions. Ginger tea for nausea. And I picked up some electrolyte water in case you’re dehydrated.”

You blink up at him. “You’re amazing.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks, but he only smiles as he plugs in the heating pad, carefully placing it over your stomach. The warmth soothes the pain almost instantly, and you sigh in relief.

Spencer sits beside you, his hand resting lightly on your arm. “Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head, reaching out weakly. “Just stay?”

His expression softens. “Of course.”

He adjusts so that he’s sitting up against the headboard, letting you rest your head against his chest. His fingers stroke soothing circles against your back, and slowly, the tension in your body eases.

Spencer keeps talking—soft facts about serotonin levels and how warmth helps pain management—but his voice is low and lulling, and eventually, you drift into sleep, safe in the warmth of his arms.

[duvetchico]

you're weird. i like it.

summary y/n and jimin cuddle and ask dumbass questions at 2am. jimin’s tired, y/n’s insane, but they’re soft for each other anyway.

genre fluff / crack / slow domestic love

pairing yu jimin x fem!reader

note i can't stop imagining late night cuddles with her send help...

masterlist.

jimin’s already half-asleep, face buried into your shoulder, arms lazily wrapped around your waist like she’s trying to glue herself to you forever. she smells like vanilla body lotion and the lingering scent of strawberry shampoo from earlier, and you’re just. sitting there. processing. thinking. being a dumbass, as always.

you’re cuddling under like six blankets, the tv’s long been muted, and the room’s dark except for the glow from the hallway light—and for some reason your brain goes.

“do you think celebrities poop.”

and jimin doesn’t move. but you feel her blink slowly against your neck.

“…what.”

“like you. you’re a kpop idol. do you poop.”

she groans and tightens her grip like she’s trying to squeeze the weird out of you. “why the fuck would you ask that.”

“i’m just saying. i’ve never seen you do it. are you even human?”

she peeks up at you with the most tired eyes, voice still heavy with sleep. “are you genuinely asking if i’m a supernatural being because you’ve never watched me take a shit.”

“…yes.”

“you need a therapist.”

“and you need to drink more water. your pee is like… the color of dehydrated sunshine.”

she throws her leg over you like a seatbelt and sighs dramatically. “i can’t believe i’m dating someone who evaluates my hydration based on pee color.”

“i can’t believe i’m dating someone who looks this good in the morning.”

that gets her. she hides her face, ears turning red, and you grin like a little shit even though you know she’s about to roast you.

“shut uuuuup,” she whines, but she’s smiling against your neck.

silence. soft for a second. she’s warm, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

“do you think birds get sad,” you whisper suddenly.

“no,” she says immediately.

“why not?”

“because they can fly. if i could fly i’d never cry again.”

“…so you’re saying you cry now.”

she groans. “i’m saying i’m going to cry if you keep asking these philosophical bird-ass questions.”

you’re giggling now, and she’s trying to be annoyed but she’s literally kissing your shoulder in between dramatic sighs.

“okay, okay, last one,” you say, turning a bit to look at her. “would you still love me if i had spaghetti for hair.”

jimin squints at you. “like… cooked?”

“yeah. cooked. wet spaghetti. no sauce tho.”

“…i’m breaking up with you.”

you gasp. “JIMIN.”

“it’s for the greater good. you’ve lost it.”

you pout and poke her cheek. she pokes your forehead back. “dumbass.”

“yeah, but i’m your dumbass.”

she shuts up at that. blinks at you slowly. then sighs and pulls you even closer, her face now smushed against yours.

“…you are. unfortunately.”

and just when you’re about to hit her with another insane question—

she says, really quietly, “i think i’m already missing you.”

you blink.

“what?”

“you’re literally right here with me,” she mumbles, eyes shut, voice all raspy and sleepy and too fucking adorable for your heart.

“…but i’m already missing you. ‘cause if i fall asleep, you’re gonna be in dreamland and not here. and i hate that.”

your dumbass heart does a triple flip. you stare at her, blushing, mouth open like an idiot.

she cracks an eye open.

“…why are you looking at me like i just proposed.”

“because what the fuck was that. why would you say that. you can’t just drop that on me while i’m in a hoodie and smelling like hot cheetos.”

she grins. smug. victorious. and somehow still shy.

you nuzzle into her like a coward. “fuck you.”

“you’d miss me.”

“…unfortunately.”

you both laugh. and then you whisper something even dumber like “do fish get waterlogged when they cry” but she doesn’t reply—

‘cause she’s already asleep. forehead against yours. still smiling.

and this time, you don’t say anything. you just hold her tighter and let sleep win.

[rosierin]

double trouble | atsumu, osamu, suna

synopsis; the twins are doing some manual labour under the hot sun and (y/n) can't help but catch a sneaky glance or two or three when they eventually take off their shirts.

a/n; what can i say guys? im in france and the sun's got me feeling all silly

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

In her defence, (y/n) hadn’t meant to stare.

It just… sort of happened. Like blinking. Or breathing. One moment she was sitting in the kitchen sipping iced tea, gloriously unbothered. The next—

Well.

The twins had taken their shirts off.

And really, there should’ve been a warning. A government-issued alert. Maybe a health advisory. Something to prepare the public. Because this? This was just cruel.

They were scattered across their tiny backyard, moving a bunch of supplies from the car to the shed—lumber, bags of soil, some mystery item Osamu had bought for his garden project that weighed roughly the same as a baby elephant.

And okay, yeah, she could have offered to help.

But someone had to supervise. For... For safety reasons.

And hydration. Since she was already sipping tea.

It was boiling out—sun glaring, air thick, the kind of summer heat that made everything sticky and slightly unbearable. It made sense that they’d stripped their shirts off. Necessary, if you asked her.

Now, here’s the thing about the Miya twins: sure, they were genetically identical. But when it came to thirst?

Very different flavours.

Atsumu was golden and obnoxiously pretty, all tan skin and arrogant smirks. Every time he flexed his biceps lifting something heavy—grunting like an Olympic athlete, on purpose, she was sure—she could've sworn she'd seen God. His hair clung to his forehead with sweat, and every time he reached for something overhead, his whole torso flexed—showcasing toned abs and the kind of sinful V-line that made her question her faith.

Meanwhile, Osamu looked like he’d walked out of a home renovation fantasy. Dust on his forearms, jaw tense with focus, sweat beading down his neck. Those forearms. Those shoulders. The way his back flexed when he lifted a bag of gravel? Criminal.

The kind of guy who could build you a deck and then build you a reputation, if you caught her drift.

He grunted once. (Y/n) almost passed out.

She bit her lip so hard she nearly bruised it.

"I’m not better than a man," she whispered to herself, staring through the window like a Victorian widow at sea.

Double the muscles.

Double the sweat.

Double the hotness.

She was dizzy. Delirious. Probably dehydrated from the sheer amount of drool she was swallowing.

“You’re disgusting,” came a voice to her left.

She jumped.

Suna.

Of course it was Suna.

He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, staring at her like a disappointed parent.

“Do I even wanna know what’s going through your filthy little mind right now?”

“No,” she said quickly. “And also, yes. But mostly no.”

He snorted. “Why don’t you just go up to them and tell them they’re hot?”

“No way,” she said, aghast. “That’s like walking up to a fire and saying, ‘hi, I’m flammable.’”

He raised a brow. “So you’re gonna keep ogling from the shadows like a little perv?”

“Correct.”

Suna poured himself a drink. Took a sip. Didn't argue. “Respect.”

She thought the worst of it was over.

She thought, I’ll survive this. I’ll just finish my tea, cool off, pretend I didn’t spend the last ten minutes mentally objectifying my friends.

She thought wrong.

Because a few minutes later, the screen door slid open with a bang, and in walked Atsumu—shirtless, sweaty, pressing a water bottle to the side of his neck.

Condensation trickled down his shoulder. His collarbone. His chest...

(Y/n) choked on her peach tea.

Suna snickered into his glass. “Karma’s so efficient these days.”

Atsumu didn’t seem to notice her state of physical and spiritual collapse—at first. He crossed the kitchen with casual swagger, cracked open the fridge, and stood there like he didn’t just set the room on fire.

That’s when it happened.

He looked over his shoulder—right at her. His eyes flicked across her face, clocking the flushed cheeks, the guilty stillness.

Then he grinned.

“Ya been watchin’ me, angel?”

(Y/n) froze, mid-sip, brain absolutely blank.

No thoughts. Just panic. And lust. And more panic.

“I—what—no,” she said, like someone who had absolutely been watching him. “No, I was looking at… the shed.”

Atsumu turned fully, eyebrow raised, lips twitching like he just knew. “Oh yeah? …The shed," he deadpanned.

“Yeah,” she said, defensive. “Very… shed-y. Strong architectural presence.”

He tilted his head, slow and smug. “Right.”

Suna, from behind his drink, drawled, “She almost passed out when Osamu grunted.”

“RIN.”

Atsumu burst into laughter, clutching his glorious sixpack stomach. “Shit, you were watchin’ us!”

(Y/n) dragged her hands down her burning face. “I hate this house.”

“Aw, don’t be shy,” Atsumu cooed, leaning against the counter with full, blinding confidence. “If ya wanted a private show, all ya had to do was ask.”

She groaned into her palms. “I’m gonna combust."

“‘Cause of the heat?” Atsumu asked innocently.

“Because of you,” she snapped, glaring like this was all his fault. "And your stupid brother."

"You guys talkin' shit about me?"

(Y/n) nearly fainted on the spot.

Osamu had just walked in from the yard—towel around his neck, water bottle in hand, faintly furrowed brow and a voice that somehow always sounded like it was five minutes from dragging someone by the collar.

“She’s been oglin’ us,” Atsumu said gleefully.

(Y/n) bristled. “I HAVE NOT—”

Suna twirled his glass between his fingers like a fine wine. “She has. She's a closeted pervert."

Osamu raised a brow, turning to glance at her—really glance. His eyes flicked from the way she was half-curled on the chair, to her burning cheeks, to her wildly defensive expression. His mouth quirked.

“Ah,” he said mildly. “So that’s why I felt eyes burnin’ into my back. Or was it my chest? Abs?”

“I hate all of you,” she muttered.

That was when it happened. The unholy alliance.

Atsumu and Osamu exchanged a glance—brief, wordless, deadly.

Twin telepathy.

And just like that, they moved in. One on each side. Like predators scenting blood.

(Y/n) blinked. “What—?"

Atsumu leaned down on her left, arm braced behind her chair, golden skin still glistening from the sun.

Osamu mirrored him on the right, towel draped lazily around his shoulders, bottle of water dangling from his fingers.

“Ya like this, sweetheart?” Atsumu murmured.

“Yer lookin’ a little flushed,” Osamu added smoothly.

(Y/n) was actively dying. Palms sweaty. Heart racing. Brain spiralling. She could barely breathe—and she was no longer even outside.

This was a coordinated attack. A planned execution.

It was rare for the twins to agree on anything. They thrived on bickering, on chaos, on contradicting each other at every turn.

But when they did team up?

It was borderline lethal.

“Don’t you two have something heavy to go lift?” she managed to croak.

Atsumu smirked. “Thought you liked watchin’.”

“I’ll throw this tea at you,” she warned.

Osamu tilted his head. “Seems like a waste of good tea.”

(Y/n) groaned and dropped her face into her hands again. “I prefer it when you guys are arguing.”

Suna snickered under his breath, but everyone caught his next words:

"Bet you'd prefer it if they did something else."

Atsumu barked a laugh at the insinuation.

Osamu groaned and swatted at him with the towel. “Don’t make it weird."

(Y/n) didn’t dare look at any of them. She folded her arms on the table and buried her face like a horny ostrich.

Did that stop her from feeling Atsumu’s hot breath at the back of her neck?

No. No it did not.

“Maybe if ya ask nicely…” he murmured.

Her mind went rampant.

Curse Suna for throwing her under the bus.

Curse the twins and their stupid muscles and their criminally good genes.

Curse this house for being the most cursed and blessed thing to have ever happened to her.

And curse her, most of all—for loving every second of it.

[cbuumbbles]

[Decode Pt. 2] Self-Aware! Caleb x fem!reader

CW: Smut, this shits gonna get freakyyy, 18+ MDNI. (Contains: egregious squirting, vaginal fisting, cunnilingus, unrealistic belly bulge, HES GOT A HUGE PENIS GUYS, so many orgasms, water breaks to stay hydrated, size kink ??, def hand kink, dacryphilia, misuse of evol, drooling, choking, tummy appreciation in missionary, breeding kink too possibly?? not really, but maybe if you squint, idk if I’m missing anything else w/ out spoiling). SORRY FOR THIS LAUNDRY LIST. I got carried away :p

Summary: You and Caleb had been dating for a while now and your needs couldn't be more met than they are with him.

A/N: Hi people! If you haven't read part 1, go read it! Part 1 is not freaky btw. This is my second time writing for this godforsaken website. So I still don't know how to make it look fancy. Bare with me. Anywho! I hope you enjoy, this is my first time in a long time writing smut, so if it's bad, just tell me nicely so I can fix it. Also sorry this took so long to get out after part 1, I have had 0 time to write.

Part 1

Caleb had finally convinced you to quit your job so he could take care of you full time. You loved the time off, he made sure to pamper you too. Your nails were always done, hair trimmed, and your back massaged. When he wasn't home, you started having to get creative with ways to entertain yourself. He had bought you a vibrator a while back which helped entertain you until he got home. You'd think it'd wear you out by the time he got home, but something inside of you was like an insatiable beast that needed to jump on Caleb as soon as he got home from work. Caleb loved every second of it, he loved giving you as much pleasure as you wanted. If you thought you were spoiled before you got together, you haven't seen anything yet. Caleb would do anything you asked him to, and you've asked him to do a lot. He's always happy to oblige and eager to please you. Being able to code anything about your reality was a life saver. Since he knew what you liked, he coded himself to be able to give you the maximum amount of pleasure you'd ever want. He was also surprised about how you weren't completely dehydrated all of the time, but he made sure you drank plenty of water, even having water breaks in the middle of sex to keep you from passing out.

Right now, you were using your vibrator on your shared bed, waiting for Caleb to come home. All you could think about was how good it's gonna feel once you start feeling his fingers filling you up. You started to imagine his fingers teasing your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it around. His thick fingers were something you drooled over every time you saw them, they were perfect and all you could picture in your mind when you saw them was how nice they feel pumping inside of you. The vivid fantasies started to feel real when you swear you can feel his fingers start to slip inside of your dripping pussy. They felt so real that you opened your eyes to find Caleb, home from work. "Hi princess, I'm home." He whispers, smiling at you while his fingers were pulling squelching sounds from you. It was embarrassing how wet he could get you. But he knew all of the places he needed to get to in order for you to get undone on his fingers. He bent down, using his tongue to lap up some of the mess you were making. "Always taste amazin', pretty." He praised you. You were moaning in response, unable to form proper words. But that's how he always had you, it was like magic. He could melt your mind in an instant with just his fingers, something he was extremely proud of. All you could say was 'more' and 'Caleb,' it was like a mantra. He sticks another finger in, making it a total of three, but he knew you could handle the whole fist tonight, you were sopping. The spot under you was drenched in your squirt. He loved how messy you were and that he was the only one who could get you to that point.

"I- close, Caleb 'm close." You hurried out, he kept his same pace as you felt the white hot pleasure building in your stomach. The journey to the orgasm was almost as pleasurable as letting go, maybe it was because you knew what was about to happen.

"Come on, angel, come on my fingers." He coaxed, his words being the final push that sends you over the edge. You moan and whine out his name as you feel your pussy pulse around his fingers, squeezing them in. As you ride out your high on his fingers, the feeling fades and you start working yourself up again. He adds another finger, making it four and you feel amazing, on cloud nine. The water works were going everywhere and you couldn't shut your mouth, as hard as you tried. You were making a mess of Caleb, thankfully he undressed himself before starting in on you, you could see drops of your squirt on his chest which made you incredibly more horny somehow. "You're doing so good, takin' me so well, pretty. You think you can handle the whole fist now?" He asked. All you could do was nod your head fervently. "I wanna hear your words baby, think you can do that for me, or are you too fucked out to speak?" He knew the answer, anything past three and you were completely melted. "My dumb little angel forgot how to speak. You're lucky I know you so well, I know exactly what you need." He coos, adding the last finger. You could feel him reaching every possible spot he needed to, his fingers stretching you out and getting you ready for his cock. You felt that familiar feeling start building up again as you suck in his fingers subconsciously. He could tell you were getting close by the way your walls were spasming around his hand. "You're so greedy with my fingers baby, it's makin' me jealous. You're taking me so well, pretty. Getting all stretched out for what's coming later. Gettin' so wet for me, you're drenching the bed. You're doing such a good job, princess. Come all over my fingers." He spoke, all of his praises going straight to your core as you felt that burning hot feeling again.

"Caleb, Caleb, Caleb." You repeated in quick succession, you could feel your release rapidly approaching.

"That's it, come on, angel. Let yourself go, beautiful." He says. His encouraging words help you focus on getting to your release and when you finally snap, it's just as intense as last time. You pulse around his fist and your legs start shaking. You know that tomorrow will have to be a recovery day for, the night is still long from over. "Let me get a taste, baby. Can you sit up for me?" He asks, you try your hardest, able to get to your knees. Your brain was fried and all you cared about was getting more. He handed you your water as you took slow sips, learning not to chug it all at once by now. "Sweet girl, that feel better?" He asks, taking the water back to set it down, as you nod your head. He lays down on the bed and you know exactly what he wants. You hover yourself above his head, staring down at him through tired lids. He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto his face, he moans in pleasure as a response. "So good, angel. Taste so good." He moans into your pussy, using his tongue to fuck your hole while his nose was rubbing into your clit. You couldn't help your hands traveling down to his head to push him up further into you, using your hips to grind on his face. You were so spoiled, using his face like this, but he loved every second of it. You tasted tart which reminded him of his favorite fruits. You could hear him sucking everywhere he could get his mouth on, it felt so good. You desuctioned yourself from Caleb's mouth, with a wet plop and a whine from him, to turn around to put your hands on his chest. Now he was nose deep in your pussy and his tongue was working on your clit. You fucked his nose, hearing the sound of labored breathing through his muffled mouth. You saw his hips buck up into the air as he was holding you down on his face like a vice.

You just tasted too good, the remnants of squirt still coating your sex. His moans were deep with a heavy vibration that you felt throughout your entire body. It was enough to have you heaving for air as you got closer to your third release, from him, that night. He began sucking on your clit, tonguing it while the pressure from the suction helped get you off. The suction started building your release as you started getting desperate for release. "Please Caleb. I need it so so so bad." You beg, it coming out labored from how little you could focus on anything other than releasing on his face. The sounds of his muffled moaning mixed with the wet sounds coming from both of you were what you focused on to finally snap and pulse your cunt onto his face. You could hear his muffled praises from underneath you as he worked you through your third orgasm of the night.

He lifted you off of his face and flipped your positions with ease. You think you're finally ready for his dick, but he has other plans. "I'm not done tasting you yet. I didn't get nearly enough time with that gorgeous pussy in my face." He said, your slick coating and dripping off his face. He dips his head between your legs again and starts his attack on your sensitive bud again. You jolt in response from how sensitive you were. You felt like you had nothing more to give, but every time Caleb would start up again, you'd be proven wrong. There was a battle in your mind. You wanted to go to bed for the night, but you also wanted every single orgasm he was about to give you. You buck up into his face, grabbing his head to push it down into you, but your hands are pulled from him and held by an invisible force. You whine, trying to fight his evol holding you down. "If you weren't so greedy, I wouldn't have to keep your hands above your head." He comments, looking at you while sticking two fingers in your hole. You gasped, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. His fingers were pushing against your gummy walls, hitting every spot with a precision that made you favor fingers over anything else. Caleb knew your preference and made sure to spoil you. You felt him go back to sucking on your clit, still pumping his fingers into you. It was like he was the conductor of the most beautiful sounding symphony and you didn't want it to end. Everything was so overwhelming that you couldn't help but beg, but you didn't know what you were begging for. Caleb loved hearing your pleading voice repeating his name. He loved breaking your mind with pleasure. There wasn't a time that the sex you had together didn't end up in you becoming a drooling mess. You tasted amazing, he couldn't get over it. If they made a drink inspired by you, he'd drink it every day. He couldn't get enough of you, because, just like him, he is just as insatiable as you are. He'd eat you out all night if he you'd last without passing out. You definitely last longer now, you're able to have more orgasms in one session. You used to get wiped out after two, but he's trained you to go to four. Tonight he wants to try for six, he knows you're ready, that you're so good for him. His tongue wouldn't relent, keeping a sickening, steady pace that made your mind swim with thoughts that were nothing but Caleb. The combination of everything with the steady pace he was keeping and his moans into your sex made the feeling start to build up again. Your moaning turned into whines and whimpers the closer you got to finishing. You could feel tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming amount of times you've came and you didn't know what number Caleb planned on stopping at. He loved making you orgasm, it was one of his favorite things to do. He also loved watching tears roll down your face from how overwhelming the pleasure was.

"Caleb!" You whined out as you were pushed over the edge again, for your forth orgasm. Your breaths were uneven as you tried to come back down. He kept going until you rode out your high, stopping to grab your water again, knowing you'd need it after how much fluid you lost. Again, you sip it, tears drying streaks onto your face, your hair a wild mess from all of the thrashing you were doing and Caleb didn't think there was a prettier sight in the world.

"So pretty baby, such a mess for me. Like a work of art." Caleb was no artist, but he thought that if he were, you'd be his best work. Your chest was heaving as you took in breaths through your nose as you kept sipping the water. Your eyes were closed and you felt ready to fall asleep, but you also craved more. You wanted his cock and thankfully that was the next part of the night. "You ready, angel?" He asked you. You just nodded, handing your water to him with your eyes still closed. "Are you too sleepy?" He asked causing you to groan in protest. He had fucked all of the words out of you. "Alright then, greedy." He narrowed his eyes at you, like a predator with their prey.

You feel his evol moving your legs, folding you in half. Then you felt him hovering over top of you. You open your eyes to see a slice of heaven. His face was glistening with sweat and your juices, same with his chest. You could smell your arousal on him now and it made you realize he had been too busy eating your cunt to even kiss you yet, so you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into one. You can taste yourself on his lips as your tongues meet together, fighting for dominance. Neither won, but the war was still raging. You bit his bottom lip to surprise him. He moaned in response, taking the hint and doing the same thing back. Your fingers were tangled in his hair to try and pull him closer to you because he never seemed close enough. You desperately wanted to wrap your legs around his torso to slam him down onto you, but he still had his evol holding your legs in that stretching position. You whined into the kiss, wanting friction from him so badly. “Please, Caleb. I need you.” You whimpered, looking at him with the most desperate look in your eyes. He couldn’t say no to you, especially not when you were looking at him like that.

You had taken him many times before, but you still needed a pretty big warm up before he could penetrate you. Saying his cock was big was an understatement. It caused a delicious belly bulge every time he’d go in. “Alright honey, I’m gonna start sliding it in.” He warned you. You felt his tip prod at your entrance making you impatiently eager. The first feeling of his cock entering you made you gasp. It was never not shocking to feel how girthy he was. You felt him keep going and you thought he must almost be done by now, until you heard him say. “Tip’s almost in, honey. You’re doing amazing.” And with that a final pop and his tip was officially in. Now the real challenge was being able to take all of him in. You hated leaving some of his dick out; you didn’t think it was fair for some of his dick to have a taste and the other part left in the dust. This is where the previous size training comes in handy. You can handle all of him, it just takes time to get it all in. After that, it’s smooth sailing.

“God, Caleb.” You choke out, eyes going wide at the sensation of how full you were feeling already.

“Don’t tell me you’re already quitting? We’re not even half way yet, angel.” He teases you.

“No, please keep going. Need more.” You muttered, gripping his biceps for dear life. As full as you felt, he was right, you were so greedy. He loved how you always craved so much of him. He was happy to oblige. He kept sliding further into you that you could feel him in unusual places, but you loved it. You craved it. You couldn’t wait to see him poking through your tummy.

“Almost there, love. Doing so well for me. Takin’ me like you were made for me, baby.” His praises made you throb around his dick, which earned a hiss from him. “Careful, princess.” He warns. You feel the last of him bottom out with his balls on your ass. “Did so good for me. Look at that.” He said, forcing your head, with his evol, to look at the bulge he made. The sight literally made you drool. You were shocked it took you this long to start drooling, but the sight before you was delicious. You detangle one of your hands from his hair to press down on it. You both moaned in response. He starts thrusting and you started seeing stars. He went slow at first, like always, to ease you into it. You knew his mercy wouldn’t last for much longer. Instead of begging for a faster pace, you relished in the calm before the storm. That surprised Caleb considering you were usually whining at him at this point. He figured it must’ve been because of how many orgasms you had that night. Still more to come! “Always so tight for me.” Caleb manages to grunt out. He loved missionary because he got to watch your tits bounce up and down. Your cute little tummy made the same bouncing movements too that he loved.

Then he sped up and you were gripping his biceps like a lifeline. Your face was dug into his neck, biting into his shoulder and accidentally drooling on it. Caleb loved witnessing you turn to mush beneath him. It was a feeling he would never get over, he'd do it forever if you'd let him. You looked perfect, your sweat was making your hair stick to your forehead and it gave your skin a beautiful glow. Your flushed cheeks were calling out to him to kiss them. He peppered your cheeks in kisses as you moaned out his name. You felt yourself building to climax again, this was past your limit. You knew you could do more, Caleb always brought it out in you. Your squirt was spraying up from being smacked into, it was a mess. You could tell how much Caleb loved it by the feral sounds he was making paired with the aggressive thrusting. He had you hovering off of the bed now, holding you up with his arms and keeping your thighs at torso level with his evol. He was grunting in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, and other sweet nothings. It helped push you over the edge to the point where you were gripping so hard on his biceps that your fingers turned white and half moons from your fingernails would linger for a couple of days. "Caleb." You whined out, your voice coming out in waves of volume that matched the thrusts he was pounding into you.

"That's it baby, you got it. You're almost done." He said. With every steady, rough thrust, you could feel the build getting faster and faster until eventually it all climaxed and you started pulsing around him, once again. His dick had finally had a taste of your orgasm pulsing around him. It was like you were trying to milk him. He could've came, but he knew he needed to last a little longer to pull that one last sweet orgasm from you. "'m not done yet, princess. Just hold on until I can fill you up." He instructs you, causing you to moan. His pace was relentless and it felt sweet going in and out of you. You were addicted to it at that point, wanting to feel him stuffing your pussy full forever. You'll have to ask if you can cockwarm him sometime soon. He'd obviously agree, but he wouldn't make it easy for you.

He flips you over, using his strength to arch your back and choke you from behind. He used his evol to keep your head back while he stuck two fingers in your mouth. The slight pressure his evol added to your neck was addictive. You sucked and bit down on his fingers, moaning his name. He felt so much bigger from behind that it was almost ridiculous. Your whimpers and whines faded into the distance only to be replaced by viceral moans as he pounded into you with a sickening pace. The noises coming from your sex was like music to your ears. His fingers in your mouth caused you to drool more. Thankfully, you were in the spare bedroom so that way you could change the sheets and clean the mattress and still have a bed to lie down in to get aftercare. Because with the way you were making a mess out of both ends, you'd need a dry place to sleep. "Mmm." You loudly whine, feeling it build up again.

"You almost there again, already?" He teased you. He loved looking at you from behind too. He loved looking at you from any position really. He thought you were the most beautiful angelic person to ever exist. "Come on baby, let's cum together. I'm gonna fill you up." He said as his hands dwared your hips as he began to hold them to slam you back into him. Your tears started up again as they began to stream down your face.

You felt it build up and up and up until it finally spilled over, you spasmed on his cock, feeling impaled. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." You said over and over again like a mantra.

"Fuck baby, I'm cumming." He groaned, pumping his cock into you. You could feel him paint your pulsing walls. It all felt so warming, it could put you to sleep. He pumped his last few times to finish inside of you, pulling out of you and immediately pulling you into him for a much needed hug. "So beautiful and perfect. I love you so much, honey." He said, using the nickname you used to have when you'd fake date. Those same butterflies from back then found their way to your stomach too.

"Mm, love you too... S'much." You muttered out as best you could. You could tell you were fading fast. All you wanted was to fall asleep in his arms while he played with your hair. You also realized how thirsty you were too. "Water?" You asked. He was already one step ahead of you, holding the straw up to your lips. You took sips, making contented sighs as you leaned back into him. This was heaven, you were sure of it. Every day he'd treat your needs as the top priority. You couldn't express how much you truly loved him. It was impossible because there weren't grand enough words to describe it.

"Let's get to bed, baby. You look so tired." He cooed at you, lifting you up and carrying you into your shared bedroom. He laid you down in the bed, going to grab a towel to clean the mess in between your thighs. "You did so well. Six in one session. And that's not even counting the ones you had before I got home. You're so amazing baby. I knew you could do it." He spoke on his way back from the bathroom. He cleaned me and then him, tucking me into the covers and turning on the ceiling fan. He threw the towel in the dirty laundry and finally joined me in bed. By the time he climbed in beside me, I was already half asleep. He turned me around to cuddle me into his chest and I fell asleep with a content smile on my face with his fingers playing with my hair.

[pedrasacorn]

Jason takes care of you after getting your wisdom teeth out

A/n: by the time this is out my wisdom teeth will be gone but I heard it’s okay because they don’t actually hold wisdom :(

Warnings: short, minor injury? Sedation mention and it’s after affects, not proof read, rushed

Your body shakes as they turn on the IV drip. Your eyes search his for reassurance.

“I’m right here sweetheart.” His hand is big, and steady as it holds yours.

“Jay I’m in love with you so much.” You weep softly, words muffled by the gauze.

“Oh I know sweetheart.” His strong hands look so good working the wheel, driving you both home.

“Did you know you’re so beautiful?” Your voice quivers.

“Mhm. You’re beautiful too.” His voice is gruff, and soothing.

You gasp all too dramatically, “I am beautiful?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh wowwww…”

By the time you get home you’re half asleep. His big arms scoop you up with ease, you feel like you’re floating.

The massive bed cradles you. Jason makes sure your head stays elevated on the mountain of fluffy pillows.

You’re technically asleep but you feel him leave, and you’re weeping again.

Can’t control the waterworks.

“Oh…oh sweetness you okay? What happened?” He carefully thumbs the tears beneath your eyes away.

“W-where did you go?” Your voice feels as broken as it sounds.

“Just went to get you some things baby.” He holds up the special ice pack he bought you, gentle hands wrapping it in place around your swollen cheeks.

“S’the pink one? I love pink.”

“Yes I know.” He coos.

“I don’t deserve you.” You sob.

He rubs a hand on the back of your neck, “Oh yes you do,” he leans down to catch your gaze, “Sweetheart would you mind doing me a favor?”

You wouldn’t mind doing him all the favors, “Hm?”

“Let’s take a breath, get those waterworks to stop yeah? Being dehydrated doesn’t feel good.”

He’s right, it doesn’t. That doesn’t stop you though.

“Hey…sugar look at me please.” The anesthesia doesn’t change how willing you are to follow his gentle instructions. “There’s my sweet thing. No more tears okay? No more tears.” He whispers against your temple.

“If I can’t have tears what can I have?” You sniff.

“You can have some mashed potatoes yeah?” He seems to grab a steaming bowl of it out of nowhere.

“Oh…yeah that’s good.”

He chuckles. “I mixed ‘em with some broth.” He holds up the spoon to your lips, “Good?”

You carefully swallow. “Mhm…Jason my teeth feel big.”

“Yeah…” he’s careful not to comment on how swollen your cheeks look from the surgery.

“And they feel badly.”

“I know baby…I know. You were so brave today.” He runs his fingertips over your brow, keeping the urge to cup your cheeks at bay.

“It hurts…”

He nods thoughtfully, immediately pulled into action finding your aftercare instructions. He opens a couple pill bottles, offering each pill to your mouth in turn.

“Swallow f’me.”

And you do. And then you giggle.

“Oh I’d swallow for you alright.”

But he doesn’t laugh? He just…looks at you.

His green eyes hold the golden rays peaking through a heavy forest; his love is the first breeze of spring, and the last chill of winter.

“Your eyes are the green sunlight, and you’re fresh.” Gosh aren’t you a romantic. The last bit of an aesthetic lingers. That did not come across the way it sounded in your head.

He smiles. “You, my sweet love, are the bed that makes a home. Now hush…don’t want you hurting that pretty mouth.” He kisses your forehead.

But he wanted to say more than that. You are my reprieve.

He stays with you until you fall asleep.

[violetseaslug]

Haii!! your writing is amazing :> Can you please do a Se-mi × fem!reader au wherein se-mi survives the game and comes back 3 months later to find her gf in a hospital because she hasn't been eating nor sleeping well because se-mi went missing without letting anyone know about her whereabouts. Please make it angst with comfort in the end hwehe [im bouncing off the walls iluv se-mi sm ^°^]

thankuthanku :>

fem!reader x se-mi, post squid game

tw: brief mention of fainting, basic description of a hospital, angst (with comfort),

an: my reqs r open! thank you so much for the request u super duper cool person :P i hope you like it and this is what you wanted/it's up to ur standards 💐 and as always guys i miss mei <\3 shes not answering my messages so i MIGHT jump her but its ok i love her🌹 i also did NOT know what to name this so 💔💔

₊˚⊹⁠♡————— ⁠♡ —————♡⊹⁠˚₊

Se-mi had no idea what she was getting into when she called the number on the back of that stupid card. At the time, it felt like the only choice—like fate had handed her an opportunity she couldn’t refuse. But now, standing in the aftermath, battered and bruised, her body in agony, she regretted it more than anything because now she was here. Alone and Fighting for her life.

Her only motivation was you.

She clung to the thought of your embrace, the way your arms had always fit so perfectly around her, as if they were made to hold her together. She longed for the sound of your laughter, the way it could brighten everyday. But most of all, she just wanted to see you again.

Each day in the games had been an agonizing battle, stretching out endlessly.

She had survived, though. Barely. Every victory came at a price—a price paid in tears and blood. At night, when the lights dimmed, she curled up, willing herself not to cry. But the tears always came.

She had won. She had survived. But at what cost?

Now, stumbling down an unfamiliar street, she barely recognized herself. Deep cuts lined her arms, her clothes were torn, and exhaustion was written all over her face. She was only half-aware of the people passing by, their eyes flickering over her before quickly looking away, as if afraid to acknowledge her.

And then—someone touched her.

A steady arm wrapped around her shoulders, another gripping her waist, keeping her upright.

"Hey, be careful," a voice said gently.

Se-mi flinched, instinctively trying to push away, but her strength failed her.

"Let me go," she rasped, her throat raw from dehydration and crying.

"I work at the nearby hospital," the woman assured her. "You need snitches. It’ll take less than two hours, and then you can be on your way."

Se-mi wanted to refuse, to keep walking, to somehow will herself straight into your arms. But her vision was already fading at the edges, her body swaying uncontrollably. She barely felt it when she collapsed into the woman’s arms, her world stopping.

Bright lights, the stiff feel of a hospital bed beneath her, the smell of sanitizer and latex gloves.

Se-mi woke up with a sudden gasp, panic settling in. Her mind was chanting "no," as she realized she couldn’t be here. She needed to leave so she could continue trying to find you.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she realized how hopeless her situation was. No money. No transport. No way of knowing where you were, or if you had moved, or if you were even still waiting for her.

The truth was suffocating. Without you, she was nothing.

A quiet knock at the door pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. She barely noticed the nurses stepping inside, their eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place.

One of them lowered her face mask and spoke.

“We apologize for the intrusion, but we think we understand your predicament here.”

Se-mi let out a laugh, wiping at her tear-streaked face. “No,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I’m afraid you don’t.”

A smile crept onto the nurse’s face. For a split second, Se-mi felt anger rise in her chest. What kind of nurse smiled this way at someone who's so clearly vulnerable? But then she saw it.

The reason behind the smile.

Because behind the nurse, being wheeled into the room in a chair, was you.

Her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, the world stopped.

Se-mi ignored the wobble in her legs, the way her body screamed in protest, and stumbled toward you. She cupped your face with shaking hands, her tears falling harder now, hot and relentless, pouring down as her emotions ovetook her.

“baby, I’m so sorry. please—i won’t ever leave you again, i swear. i don’t know what i was thinking, i—please, baby, forgive me. i promise—”

Her desperate words were cut off as your lips pressed against hers.

The kiss was soft, reassuring. You tasted like home.

When you pulled away, your forehead rested against hers, your fingers gently brushing against her tear-stained skin.

“I’m just glad to have you back, my love,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I was so worried. I barely ate, barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined you knocking on the door, and I was terrified I wouldn’t be there to answer. I thought I lost you. These lovely nurses haven't left my side since I told them the reason I was here, they recognized you from all of the times i had described your pretty face. They said they would keep an eye out and here you are."

Se-mi let out a broken sob, her fingers curling around your shirt like you might disappear if she let go.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she whimpered. “I’m here now. i promise. Nothing will hurt you.”

Your hand held the back of her head as you whispered, “Your soul is my blessing.”

And as you kissed her again, slowly, deeply, Se-mi knew she was finally home.

[boytearscore]

i dare you to try. — chris sturniolo.

summary: you finally decided to join a car video with the triplets after years of them trying to convince you to, but when the topic “who’s more stubborn, you or chris?” is brought up, things take a peculiar turn in which chris is sure he can be the first guy you beg for, so you dare him to try.

warnings: fem!dom, chris!dom, smut, teasing, foreplay, swearing, choking, orgasm denial, size kink, bdsm.

author’s note: this one is for my chris girlies, initially i wanted to make it oneshot, but i love to tease you guys so it will be divided in two short parts, the second one will be released tonight so don’t worry and just enjoy!

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝟷/𝟸)

everything started after you filmed a video with the sturniolo triplets, you’ve been friends with them for a while and after much pleading, you finally agreed to be a guest.

it was the talk nonsense and just hope it’s funny type of shit, so you didn’t freak out too much about it.

all went smoothly, you were having fun and laughing hard every five minutes, but then they changed the topic to who’s more stubborn, chris or you.

suddenly you both were arguing about it, leaving a nick and a matt almost dying from laughing.

“bro, you’re basically a child!” you point at chris’ face and roll your eyes. “remember when we all told you to NOT drink too many energy drinks, so you inhaled fucking four and almost died from a heart attack?”

nick nods and matt is just out of breath, staring at both of you. chris crosses his arms, preparing his comeback and squinting his eyes at you.

“why is this relevant?” he asks, raising a brow. “you’re the one who refuses to drink water because ‘it tastes bad’, you’re just dehydrated, dude! drink water, it’s not that hard.”

as the back and forth argument continued, nick just looks at the camera and says:

“point proved.” he laughs and then grabs his phone. “i wonder if one of you would actually admit you’re wrong one day.”

you two look at nick, and matt agrees. “yeah, besides being stubborn, you two are also too proud.”

“none of those things are true.” you yell at matt, but your voice is shaken from laughing so they all laugh too. “i just like to stand my ground, and this little boy right here wouldn’t convince me to do shit even if his life depended on it.”

chris was dumbfounded with so many insults, but what got to him was “little boy” and the fact that you underestimated him. he was indeed too proud, but he was very confident as well, and never really had to work hard to get what he wants when it comes to his needs, so that made him hungry for proving you wrong.

unfourtunately for him, you were just exactly the same, but worse.

he looks at nick, and then at the camera, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips.

“make sure to edit this part out of the video.” he says, and the three of you just stare at him with big question mark faces, then his eyes turned to you, he had a determined expression and that just made your curiosity grow bigger within every second.

“you can say all you want…” he starts, the smirk turning into an evil smile. “but i’m sure i can make you beg.”

there was silence, an exchange of looks between you four and then the loud noises of laughter.

“beg you to do what, chris?” you ask him. “the only thing i’d beg you to do is shut the fuck up.” you leaned against the car sit, since you both were next to each other, all he did was incline his face closer to you.

“to be submissive for the first time with a guy.” he whisper into your ear, making sure nick and matt hear it too. they both are in shock, amused and extremely invested and you… well, that did not surprised you, to be honest. you always tell the triplets about your love life, how you deal with guys and so did they. there was definitely similarities between you and chris. such as, never dating, never being clingy and most importantly, always being on the dominant side.

you grin at him with arms crossed, faces still close because he didn’t back off after saying it.

“i dare you to try.” you reply with a firm tone and he chuckles while nick and matt are losing it in the back seat.

“holy shit…” nick murmured with his hand over his mouth, eyes paying attention to every detail of your mannerism to see any kind of resistance or fear on you, but he got nothing.

“so...” you finally break the silence, checking your lipgloss in the rear mirror and then turning to chris. “what do i get if you fail?”

he thinks for a while and bite his lips, trying to think of something that wouldn’t risk his social life or reputation. he knew you and your thoughts, nothing too good would come out of your mouth if you choose.

“if i fail, which i won’t…” he begins and you give him an eye roll. “i’ll listen to every command of yours, not complaining or being stubborn, and the hardest part…” he says, sighing. he can’t believe he’s about to say that. “i’ll admit i’m wrong.”

you think for a moment, plotting the most unspeakable things inside your head. there’s no reason to not agree since you know you won’t lose.

“you got yourself a deal, little boy.” you tell him, shaking his hand.

“what the fuck?” matt yells and all of you laugh, continuing the video until later that night.

[revelboo]

please can we have some Hound crumbs, especially once he hunts his human down?

Sure! Boss is out of office today and I’m bored so I’m trying to get some updates done

Heavy Boots Pt 5

Hound x Reader

• Palm skimming the side of the vent, he’s running to get to where he can sense Trailbreaker’s EM field. Hadn’t meant to drive you into trying to escape him, but he had and guilt twists through him. Because he can insist he did it to protect you, took you to keep you safe from the Decepticons, but the truth? He’d been lonely. Seen the bots with humans, how close some of them are and had wanted that. Someone to be there waiting for him, smiling when they see him and asking him about his day. Had wanted so bad to not be alone, he hadn’t thought it through. Hadn’t thought about your feelings. Needs you to be okay, for you to not pay for his mistakes.

• His hands are surprisingly gentle as he lifts you into his arms, but your whole body hurts and you whimper at being moved. Don’t think you broke anything in the fall, but you’re not sure and you taste blood where you must have bitten yourself during the fall, your hand is damp and sticky where you’d grabbed at the lip of the vent when you fell and cut yourself. Had just wanted to escape this nightmare. What had you done to deserve any of this? Breath catching when the bot holding you begins slowly climbing back up the vent, leaving your friend down there in the dark. Alone.

• Peds sliding as he sees light up ahead, his spark constricts as he approaches the drop off and looks down. Sees a shape climbing slowly up, but can’t see the bottom of the shaft. You’d fallen down there? Pacing anxiously, it seems to take forever before Trailbreaker’s head and shoulders appear and you’re being handed over. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers as you make a low, pained sound. Your eyes locking on the glow of his optics. ‘Gotta go back for mine. They can’t see anything,’ Trailbreaker says, words tired, guilty, and angry before he’s headed back down with his magnawheels. Lowering his head to yours just so he can feel your warm breath on his face, he tries to check you over without jostling you too much. You’re sluggishly bleeding, teeth red when you inhale sharply and you curl into him.

• Shivering in the cold vent, reality isn’t slipping in softly, it’s coming for you by the throat, fangs bared. If Trailbreaker hasn’t guessed where you two had gone, you still would have fallen down the shaft as blind as you are in the dark. Maybe one of you would have been far enough ahead of the other to hear them fall and stop. Maybe whoever fell would have grabbed for the other and dragged them down. You’re hurt, but it could have been much worse. But if they hadn’t realized where you were and come in here looking for you both? Would you have been able to find a way out before you starved or dehydration got you? Can feel him venting against you as he cradles you to him. Not waiting on Trailbreaker to rescue your friend, he’s already on the move. Carrying you to safety and you’re just waiting for the anger at your escape attempt. To be punished.

• Wishes he knew more about humans. Knew how to tell how badly you’re hurt. Also wishes you’d say something to him. Anything. Even that you hate him, but he needs to hear your voice. “Talk to me, sweetspark,” he whispers and pain dazed eyes lift to him. “You’re going to be okay. Ratchet’s going to fix this.” And you’re just staring at him, like you’re confused. How hard had you hit your head? Hard enough to stun you? “Are you hurting?” Brow furrowing, you just close your eyes, turning your face away. Still hating him most likely and he’d give anything to go back and undo this. Maybe he could have used his holoform to approach you. Gotten to know you first. Talked to you, but he’s screwed it all up and he’s not sure he can fix it at this point.

Previous

[justmeinadaze]

You're Cute When You Scream (Steddie X Plus Size Y/N)

Part 2 of Bite To Break The Skin

A/N: This started one way and then flowed into another. I guess even with angst I can't not have plot lol I have an idea how I want this to go and am enjoying the toxic mixed with the potential for growth.

Warnings: Vampire Steddie & Human Fem Plus Size Y/N, SMUT, dirty talk, degrading, spanking, light choking, tied to bed, overstimulation, toys, biting (vamp style blood draining), aftercare.

ANGST! Jealous Toxic Steddie abound, threaten to make her "regret it" if another boy touches her, Steddie causes a car accident, reader gets hurt but they heal her, boys hurt someone (brief), mentions of some unsavory behavior against the boys in Hawkins Lab, mentions of dehydration (boys do take care of her), I think that's it. Oh! Cliffhanger ending (cause Im me :P).

Word Count: 6341

The next morning felt like you were waking up from a long coma. 

The world seemed brighter and more in tune as you took in your surroundings. Nothing seemed a miss except for the pink rose beside your bed…

And the soreness between your legs. 

You winced the moment your limbs swung to get off your mattress and you quickly waddled to your full-length mirror to take in your slightly bruised skin, fingers trailing along the darkening fingerprints around your wrists to your thighs. Your hips had the most markings and as you continued to stare at yourself…you couldn’t help but smile.

***

“Why are you being weird?”, your friend asked as you continued to ignore her while you two walked around downtown Hawkins. 

“Define weird.”

“I don’t know! It’s just your whole vibe seems different.”

“I don’t know what that means.”, you giggle as you pause when you no longer feel her at your side. “What?”

“What, what? I said I needed to return a movie and grab a new one. You really are in your own world today aren’t you?” As she confidently began to stride towards the front door of Family Video, your eyes widen as you hissed her name and ran after her.  “What?! Jesus Christ, Y/N, why are acting so insane—?”

“Welcome to Family Video. My name is Steve…”, the man interrupted as he leaned his elbow on top of the shelf beside him and smirked your way. “Please let me know if you need anything.”

Looking at him now, you would never be able to tell that this was the same man who was pale and agitated just a week ago. There was color in his face and his hair was styled the way you always remembered it growing up. He seemed stronger as he stood upright instead of hunched over in what appeared to be pain. Even his tone had less of a shake to it. 

Last night he and Eddie seemed to be headed in that direction again before they bit into you, draining your blood. When they entered your room they seemed almost needy but seeing Steve now, he appeared calm which was oddly more intimidating as his honey eyes continued to rake across your body. 

“Thank you.”, you whisper as you grab your friend’s arm and start to walk away. 

“My pleasure.”, he answers in that sultry husk that has you biting your bottom lip.

“Ok, so what movie a-are you looking for, Mandy?”

Your friend takes in your erratic demeaner before her eyes expand and she hits your arm with her fist. 

“Oh my God! You fucked someone didn’t you!” As you try to cover her mouth, she giggles almost uncontrollably. “You have to tell me everything.”

“It was fine ok? Exactly like in the movies.”, you answer sarcastically and she rolls her eyes. 

Unbeknown to her on the opposite side of the aisle, Steve came around with a stack full of VHSs in his hand and began putting them away. 

“Liar! So that’s why you’ve been walking a bit slower.”, she grins as you cover your face when you notice the boy behind her do the same. “Come on. I’m your best friend in the world and you know I won’t tell anyone—”

“Except the entire store apparently.”

“Oh my GOD!”, she grunts in frustration. “Fine. Just tell me this… was it Garrett?”

“No. Who?”, you ask genuinely confused. 

“Garrett. The boy in your math class that you’ve been swooning over for like a year.”

“That YOU say I’ve been swooning over. I’ve barely talked to him—”

“Well, he definitely has a crush on you.”

You heard it first. 

Maybe you were just more attune to it after everything that happened but when Steve growled you immediately stood at attention but your head strong friend turned around to glance around him. 

“Jesus Christ. Did someone let an animal in here?”

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

 For your morning classes you were surprised Eddie wasn’t there but what surprised you even more was how disappointed that made you. You dreamt about both of them and were desperate to at least see one of their faces. 

At lunch, you sat on the stage in the cafeteria, absently sketching before a grunt caught your attention and you turned your head just in time to see the metalhead sitting beside you. 

Just like Steve he seemed visually so much healthier but there was this air around him that would tell normal people to tread carefully. Silently, he popped open your water bottle he had flung across the hall that one day you thought he was dehydrated and took a long gulp as he tipped his head back. 

“I thought…you said it made you sick last time.”, you murmured his way as he burped obnoxiously and patted his chest with his palm. 

“The water did, yes. There’s something different in here this time. Would you like a taste?” As he tilted the open bottle towards you, you gagged at the strong metallic smell making him grin devilishly as he closed the lid. “Stole this particular brand from packets in the hospital. Not as fun as my preferred way but it keeps me from falling over or getting jumped again.”

“You…you stole blood from Hawkins General?”

“Would you rather I steal it from you?”, he snapped before sighing and shaking his head. “You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you? We need this bullshit to live and I refuse to go back to that sick…fucking weak…state I was in.”

“I didn’t think you were weak.”

At your mumbled words, his eyes take in your slightly folded in frame as you continue to look anywhere else that isn’t him. 

“That’s because you can’t tell the difference.” That grabs your attention as your irises lock with his beautiful chocolate ones. “I mean even right now you’re weak. Look at you sitting here alone while you draw life instead of living it.”

“Oh? What should I do then, hm? Fucking break into someone else’s house, scare the shit out of them and then fuck them? Will that put me on your level?”

“You say that like any of that is what actually fucking happened. Like you didn’t like being scared and used by us.”

You huff in frustration and the metalhead can’t help but grin cockily at getting a rise out of you. Honestly, seeing any reaction that wasn’t meek was making him want to take you right there on that stage in front of the entire lunchroom. 

“I’m not weak, Eddie. You and Steve have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“You’re right because we don’t care. That’s what men like Garrett Solis are for.”

You blink at the name silently thrown off guard but when it fully registers, your own smile paints your lips. 

“Oh, I see. Are you and Steve…jealous?”

“Jealous, no. Worried about his and your safety, yes.”

“Please! What would put him or me in any kind of fucking danger?”, you reply with defiance as you glare in the opposite direction.  

The humidity of Eddie’s breath warms your ear as he tilts towards you and murmurs softly, “You, Y/N.” A shaky exhale leaves your chest as your gaze shifts to the floor, watching out of the corner of your eye as he places his palm on your thigh. 

“We told you that you and your fucking pussy belong to us. That if you even dreamt of someone else we’d make you both regret it.”

“I-I-I thought you didn’t want to hurt anyone.”, you stutter as his grip tightens.

“Steve doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Or at least he didn’t. When he told me about what your friend said, he seemed much angrier than I’ve seen him before. Me on the other hand…”, he coos as his fingers drift higher up your jeans and his nose vaguely brushes your neck. “I don’t mind tearing anyone in this fucking town a part. They accused me of murder when I was innocent. Now I can give them what they want…Something theyshould be a-fucking-fraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

You said it with so much confidence, he knew you weren’t lying and that made the former boy he used to be extremely happy. Eddie didn’t show it in his face but you saw it in his eyes as they remained glued to yours. Could that boy be reached or would he soon be forever lost within the creature the metalhead had become? Maybe he could be both but that was a fine line you had yet to navigate with either of them. 

“Touch him in any way, Y/N, and you will be. This is your one warning.”

And with that, he jumped down from the stage and sauntered away. 

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

What Eddie said remained burned in your brain as you sat in the backseat of your best friend’s car while she giggled at the girl in her passenger seat. 

Not the whole threatening part but the being weak and not living life. You tended to only hang out with a couple of people on the weekend but usually spent a lot of time at home allowing your social battery to recharge after dealing with all the bullshit at school. Most of the meatheads were assholes and the bulk of the girls seemed solely focused on themselves. 

You seemed to get along better with teachers but especially your art teacher who constantly praised your work and offered insight into how you could grow as an artist. 

You remembered once seeing Steve Harrington go on dates with numerous women and wondered how he had all the energy. Nancy seemed to balance him out but for whatever reason chose to leave. After that you rarely saw him with anyone expect the younger kids that hung out with Eddie and Robin Buckley but they never seemed intimate in that way. 

The metalhead had gone on a couple of dates but, like you, unless he was with his friends, seemed to spend time alone playing his guitar or reading. 

“Hey, slut! What are you thinking about so hard back there?”, your friend laughs as she glances at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Don’t call me that, Mandy.”

“Oof, someone’s in a mood. I thought sex was supposed to like…relax you?”, another girl playfully teased making your eyes narrow at the driver.

“WHAT? You wouldn’t give me the details and I had to gush with someone about your victory.”

“Losing your virginity isn’t a victory.”

“Maybe if it sucks.”, a girl jokes causing all the girls to cackle. “Then again if you fuck a freak I’d imagine he’d be a little freaky in bed.”

“What are you talking about?”, Mandy asked.

“Oh, you don’t know?”

“Jessie, come on.”, you whine but of course she ignores you. 

“Our girl was seen talking to Eddie the freak murderer Munson on the assembly stage at lunch and he had his ringed fingers all OVER her.”

“Is that true, Y/N?”

“Was I talking to Eddie Munson, yes. Was he ‘all over me’, no.”

“Ok, then why did he have his hand on your thigh while whispering shit in your ear?”

Before you could answer, the car came to a stop and you hastily got out to head towards the house that a party was currently being raged in. Your best friend roughly grabbed your arm forcing you to stay as the other girls giggled and continued towards the front door. 

“Is that true? Were you talking to Eddie Munson?”

“Mandy—”

“Did you fuck him?”

“I…”

“Y/N, he murdered four people—”

“AMANDA!”, you shout causing a couple of people outside to turn their heads. “We were just talking about class, ok? We have a class together. I don’t know what Jessie thinks she fucking saw but all we did was talk.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. You need to stay away from him. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”

***

Grinning wide, you laughed at your friends as Amanda screeched when a boy she had been flirting with all night pushed her into the pool.

“Oh my God, Eric! You’re lucky I didn’t have my phone in my pocket!”

“You’re fine, you whiney baby.”, the boy jokes as he jumps in beside her. 

“May I sit with you?” At the sound of a soft voice, your gaze shifted to a smiling Garrett who was pointing at the empty seat beside the bench you were sitting on. “You can say no, of course.”

“Oh, um, no…I mean yeah…yes, you can have a seat.”, you stutter nervously making him laugh. 

“Thank you.”, he beams. “I’m not much of a swimmer I’m afraid. I wasn’t given the fish gene.”

“Wow…that was super cheesy.”, you tease. 

“It was. It really was.”, Garrett chuckles as he runs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t help it. When I’m talking to beautiful women I just lose all my cool points.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that danced across your lips before turning away to absently drink from your cup. 

“So…if you can’t swim why do you guys have a pool?”, you try to deflect and thankfully he accepts it. 

“Well, my parents and my brother can swim, obviously.”, he chuckles as he points towards the boy that was splashing around with your best friend. 

“And they didn’t teach you?”

“Pfft, my parents are barely ever home and my brother is always busy being himself.”, Garrett teases. “Did your parents teach you?”

“My mom did. My dad’s barely ever home to. He does consulting at Hawkins Lab sometimes—”

“Hey! No way! That’s where my parents work. My dad is a scientist and my mom is a corporate lady.”

Your eyes widen at the coincidence as you nod your head but a loud flapping noise above you startles you as you gasp and drop your cup. 

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”, the man asks as he glances up towards the sky where you were currently searching. 

“I…um…I should go home.”

“Wait but are you sure? The night it still young and—”

“I understand but, um, no I’m starting to feel nauseas and I should just…”

“Wait, wait, wait. At least let me drive you—”

“Garrett…I…no its ok. I can walk—”

“Please, I insist. After that whole serial killer thing and an earthquake it’s not safe for you to be out on the road at night.”

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

“Are you alright? You seem antsy.”

“I’m ok.”, you murmur as you continue to face the window. “I’m just tired, you know?”

“No I understand.”, Garrett replied a bit sullenly as the car came to a stop near a stop sign. “I hope I didn’t say anything to make you uncomfortable or—”

“No, Garrett, you didn’t. It’s just—”

“It’s just I really like you, Y/N. I’ve had a crush on you since like freshman year and after everything’s happened…seeing you tonight in that outfit…”

“My outfit?”, you giggle. “Honey, it’s a black skirt and t-shirt with Joan Jett on it.”

“I mean, to be fair, you look beautiful in everything.”, he compliments shyly as his palm reaches out to tenderly move some of your hair behind your ear. 

A car behind him honked loudly scaring you both as you jumped and placed your hand over your heart. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going!” He waves the guy off before making his turn. “Jesus, sweetie, and you were going to walk home? May as well be out in the middle of—”

It happens so fast. 

It was as if Garrett’s car hit an invisible wall.

Your seatbelts kept you secure as the vehicle rolled a couple of times before skidding to a stop. 

“Y/N…Y/N… fuck… are—are you alright?”

“I-I-I think so.”, you cried. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Shit, you’re bleeding. Let me see if I can—” You both hear it; slow footsteps crunching the glass underneath them with each step. “Is…is someone there?” White sneakers come into view and you recognize immediately who they belong to; you’ve drawn them multiple times. “H-H-Help her first. I think she—”

“Garrett!”, you hiss giving him pause. “Shut. Up. They aren’t here to help us.”

“They?”, he whispers before the loud creaking of the vehicle has you both screaming as it’s effortlessly flipped back over bringing you both face to face with Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson. 

“You have to be careful on dark roads in the middle of the night especially after you two have been drinking.”, Eddie says all too casually.

“We haven’t…I haven’t been—”

Steve’s angry eyes flashing his way silence the man beside you while the metalhead’s own irises remain locked with yours. 

“Those red cups at the party were full of water then?” The metalhead clicks his tongue as he tilts his head and begins to slowly stroll around the car. “Yeah, I don’t think so…I mean you’d have to have been drinking to allow him to touch you even after my warning.”

“What…I…what’s going on?”, Garrett asks as his voice shakes. 

You try to remain calm as Eddie continues to stalk closer to your side before finally coming to a stop just outside your window. His eyes are black like a predator in the water and your whole body shutters as they pan gradually down your face.

“Or did you just not believe me?”, he whispers as your breathing stutters. “Hm. I guess we need to be clearer.”

The driver’s side door screeches as its ripped off its handles and the driver himself follows as he’s forced out of his seat. 

“WAIT! PLEASE!”, you scream as you try to open your own door but collapse to the ground. 

Eddie effortlessly lifts you to your feet and drags you in front of the headlights where Steve was waiting. Your eyes fluttered at the pain in your head and you leaned against his chest for balance. 

“She…she needs a hospital…please! YOU CAN’T LET HER—” 

The pretty boy’s palm over his mouth silenced him as both men chuckled sinisterly. Cradling your head in his hands, Eddie tilted you away from him before his thick tongue collected the blood that had fallen down your cheek from your temple as your wound suddenly vanished. You couldn’t help the whimper of pleasure that escaped you as the pain immediately disappeared and you leaned your forehead against his jaw. 

“No, no, no, sweetheart. Hey, Steve and I need you to see this.”, he murmurs softly as he jostles you around till your eyes are facing the wide-eyed boy before you. “We would never let anything happen to her, Garrett, do you know why? She’s ours. Any man can talk to her till her heart is fucking content but this right here?”, Eddie says as his palms slide down your arms, over your breasts, along your plump tummy, and between your legs where his fingers pressed against your underwear. “This beautiful…delicious body…is ours.”

“And we don’t like people touching our things, Garrett.”, Steve growled as his palms gripped either side of the boy’s head.

“Wait! Wait! I can give you anything you want! My parents are rich! The make a lot of money and have a ton of pull not just in Hawkins but all over the globe!” His cries became louder as the former jock’s grip tightened. “I’m serious! Paul and Jackie Solis! They work at the lab on the hill!”

Steve’s eyes widen and you feel Eddie’s posture straighten. 

“Doing what?”, the metalhead asked. 

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me. What do your parents DO?!”, he snarled losing his patience. 

“My dad’s a scientist and my mother’s a corporate woman—”

“Have you ever heard them mention Project Sunlight? Has anyone ever come to your house mentioning that or anything about blood? ANSWER!!”, Steve screams causing the boy to jump.

“N-N-No. No…all I’ve ever heard them talk about is s-s-something involving black substances on the roof of some guy’s house…trailer… My m-mom helped relocate everyone in Forest Hills b-before the quake.” 

“You said your dad’s a scientist. What kind?”

“He’s a physicist.”

“Fuck. It’s all the same bullshit.”, Steve huffed. 

“I told you they gave up on us, Harrington. They didn’t care if we died. Hell, they were probably hoping for it.”

“M-M-Maybe Y/N can help. S-S-She said one of her parents consults at the lab—”

“GARRETT!”, you shout but even you know it’s too late. 

Both their heads slowly turn to look your way as their jaws clench. A few seconds pass before they exchange a glance and a wicked smile paints both their lips. 

“Thank you for that information, Garrett. Your services are no longer required.” And with that, Steve snaps the boy’s neck making you gasp. “You. Are your parents home?”

“My dad is a doctor to and I’ve never heard him talk about his work.”

Your answer causes both men to roll their eyes. 

“Punish her first and then look or look and then punish?”, Steve asks.

“Well, as much as I don’t care about getting caught, I want to be able to hear her scream without it drawing all of Hawkins assholes.”

“We can take her to my house. You know my parents aren’t fucking there and there isn’t a neighbor for miles.”

“Sounds like a plan, dude.”

You barely even have time to register their conversation before Eddie lifts you his arms and both men expand their wings to shoot off into the night sky. 

***

Your hands and body continue to shake even when the metalhead’s feet touch the ground. It took you a moment to realize you were at Steve Harrington’s home mostly because you had only ever seen it from the outside. 

When Eddie tossed you onto the man’s bed you took in the rather bland room around you except for some of the papers tacked on the wall near his desk. There were so many scribbled words you could barely make out but what surprised you was your painting that was leaning against the wall. 

Did he genuinely like your work? And why did that ignite a flutter of butterflies in your stomach?

“Since you, little girl, don’t know how to listen…”, the long-haired boy scolds before pushing you back against the bed and grabbing your wrists to bind them to the headboard. “…or since you don’t know what NO TOUCHING means… we’ll have to fucking make you understand.” 

Steve grabbed your ankles and tied each leg to the frame leaving you fully exposed for them to do whatever they wished. 

“He was at least right about one thing. You are beautiful in this outfit.” Your eyes widen in surprise at the fact that they even heard that conversation making the pretty boy chuckle. “I told you, honey, we are the shadows now.”

Abruptly, he rips off your shorts and panties in one go with his large palms eliciting a small whine from you at the action. 

“Alright, baby, don’t…move…”

You gasp as something cold is pressed to your thigh before the sound of duct tape echoes through the room and you feel it being wrapped around your thigh. Something clicks and you suddenly feel a vibration against your clit that has you kicking your legs to no avail. 

As soon as they get up, you realize that they had tapped a vibrating wand to your upper thigh and no matter how much movement you did, nothing would move it away from your bundle of nerves. 

“Alright, sweetheart, we’re going to give you about…what do you say, Steve?... An hour… for her to think about what she’s done.”

Your jaw drops at his words; an hour was so long.

“Wait, no, please. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll bet you are. Now we’ll be back in a bit and feel free to scream as loud as you want. I personally think it’s cute.”, Eddie teases before both men fly out the window.

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

You weren’t sure exactly how much time passed but with every orgasm you did scream so loud you were surprised no one had found you yet. You constantly apologized even though no one was in the room with you but you knew they could somehow hear you. 

You knew.

As another orgasm began to build you vaguely heard the window open as feet pounded loudly onto the floor. A nose pressed to your temple and inhaled deeply as the constant flow of tears continued to streak your cheeks as your legs trembled while you release crashed over you like a wave. 

The vibration stopped as he removed the device and when Eddie spoke it was like hearing an angel.

“Can you smell that?”

“Her arousal? Yeah. And of course, I can still smell that fucking prick clinging to her body.”, Steve growled. 

“No, I mean besides that.” Again, he inhaled as his nose trailed along your throat to your chest. “Harrington, go get water. Now.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, Munson—”

“NOW.” The bass behind his voice was frightening and you couldn’t help but close your eyes in fear. “No, Y/N, keep your eyes open.”, he commanded, softly thanking his friend when he appeared suddenly with a glass of water. After freeing only your hands, Eddie sat you up and held the back of your neck as he brought the glass to your lips and you began to chug it back like you hadn’t had anything to drink in days.

Steve blinked as their eyes met and even he sniffed the air before running downstairs to grab more for you to drink. 

Once you were satisfied, you handed him his cup and leaned against the metalhead’s shoulder. 

“Thank you.”, you whispered, feeling oddly safe in this moment at this man’s side. “What did you smell?”

Eddie shrugged as he shook his head. 

“Something inside you… between the adrenaline, the sweat, the tears, and you coming…”

“You were dehydrated.”, Steve finished for him. 

“Oh…”

“You tried to give me water…”, was the only reply Eddie could give but it made sense to you. 

They were both still angry with you, you could feel that, but your act of kindness before everything that had followed still remained burned in their brains especially the metalhead who was constantly abused by a town and people who could care less about him and his wellbeing. 

“Don’t get cocky, Y/N.”, Eddie grumbled as he pushed you back against the mattress and bound your hands once more. “You still disobeyed us. We warned you what would happen.”

Steve removed his clothes and climbed up the length of your body making you groan as he rubbed his cock between your dripping folds, grazing your oversensitive clit with his shaft. 

“And this time, little girl, I’m coming on these perfect tits.”, he growled as his large palms kneaded one of your breasts. Your eyes rolled as he effortlessly guided himself into your entrance, stretching you out with every inch. “Fuck, man…still so fucking tight.”

Rolling his hips, Steve was slow and methodical as he thrust himself deeper into you. 

“He’s lucky we didn’t kill him sooner, Y/N.”, he whispered as his head fell beside yours. “Seeing you—fuck—get all shy at the store…fuck, baby…I wanted to take you right there again in front of e-everyone…but then she mentioned HIS name.” Fingers curled around your throat and squeeze as the pretty boy slammed his length aggressively into your cunt, abusing that sensitive spot inside you that you didn’t know existed till a few nights ago. “You let him…touch you…”

“I’m—mmugh—so sorry, Steve.”

“Sorry you got fucking caught maybe, you little whore.”

Your pussy clenched around him and you felt his smirk against your cheek as he bared his fangs before piercing your skin. Once again you felt a weird rush as the blood drained and his pace became almost animalistic. You desperately wanted to cling to him but with your limbs bound you whined as you tugged them praying they’d break. 

You screamed, not a scream of terror but intense need, and he grunted at the sound. You came hard and as your pussy quivered around him, Steve’s rhythm faltered as you felt him start to cum inside you before pulling out to pump the rest onto your chest. 

“Fuck! Fuck me, Eddie this pussy’s too good.”, he panted as he reached back to spank your thigh before licking the wound along your neck.

“Yeah it is. My turn.” 

The former jock climbed off you as the metalhead removed the restraints around your ankles so he could lift your legs and balance them against his chest.

“Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

“E-Eddie and Steve.”

“Who gets to touch your body?

“No…no one except you… I belong to you. Eddie, please.”

“I like hearing you beg.”, he chuckled, gripping his shaft in his hand and breaching your entrance before pulling all the way back out as his free palm held your legs together by the ankle. “You want my dick, little girl?”

“Yes.”, you cry as your back arches and your roll your hips desperate to feel him. “Please.”

Repeating the process, he pushes himself inside you before pulling all way out but as you huff in frustration Eddie spanks your ass hard. 

“Maybe you’ll remember this next time you flirt with someone—”

“N-No, Eddie! I swear I wasn’t—”

“Shut. Up.”, he growled as he tiled forward bringing your legs with him practically folding you in half. “We see you everywhere, Y/N. With your teacher after school, with Mandy Coleman watching a movie…”

This time when he guided himself inside you again, the metalhead thrusted with his purpose as he continued. 

“Home alone—fuck—having dinner at your table…in your bed while you sleep…”

The notion had a soft whimper leave you and Eddie laughed through his teeth. 

“You really are a freak, aren’t you, sweetheart? You like this…us appearing wherever you are…taking you whenever we want… Tell me then, baby, why do you fight it?”

“I-I-I don’t…”

Your answer seemed to infuriate him as his eyes darked and a loud grumble emitted from his throat. 

“Then why did you let him sit beside you at the party?”, he hissed as his pace and intensity began to quicken. “Why—mmph—did you lie?”

“I didn’t lie—”

“YES YOU DID! DO YOU THINK WE’RE PLAYING AROUND, Y/N!?”

Your eyes roll as the bed shakes and as Eddie pushes up onto his knees, his teeth bite into your calf as you scream so loud even Steve shoots forward to cover your mouth. Your legs tremble as you cum and he came off you with a syrupy pop to heal your wound. After dropping both your limbs, he tilts over you as he pounds his hips hard. 

“What we did to that little fucker, Y/N, is nothing compared to what we will do if we have to have this conversation again. Do you understand me?” Weakly, you nod as Steve lifts his palm out of the way. 

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper. 

“No, you’re not. Not even close. When I’m done using you we’re—shit—we’re going to ask you some questions. If you lie to me even once, Y/N, I swear to God—”

“I won’t…I won’t, I swear. Please, Eddie, just cum. I need to feel it.”

At your request, his head hung as his pace stuttered as he hastily pulled out and his release warmed your tummy. 

After a couple of minutes of heavy panting, Steve freed you from your binds and gave you more water as the long-haired boy appeared with a rag to clean you before tugging a clean shirt over your head. 

“Scoops Ahoy.”, you say matter-of-factly as your fingers glide along the material of Steve’s old uniform. 

“It’s the only thing I have at the moment that will fit you.”, he mumbles as he takes a seat in his desk chair. “I don’t mean that in like a derogatory way. I just haven’t been able to get or set aside clothes I know you’d be comfortable in.”

You smile at the brief bit of kindness that flows from his lips before Eddie steps forward with his arms folded to remind you that they weren’t finished with you just yet. 

“Did you know your dad was a hematologist, Y/N? Did you know he studies blood?”

“I knew he was a doctor but I didn’t know of what. He doesn’t talk about that stuff at home…when he decides to come home…”

“He doesn’t tell you anything at all?”, he asks incredulously.

“I’m an artist and my mom is a counselor. What reason would he have to talk about that stuff.”

“Where was he during the earthquake?”

“What does that have to—?”

“Because I fucking asked!”, Steve shouted. “Don’t let this calm interaction fool you, honey. We are much stronger and more unhinged than we were a few months ago. You and your family are lucky we haven’t just ripped you apart!”

Your eyes widen at his outburst as you try to overcome the fear to answer their question.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie—”

“I swear, Eddie, I’m not. W-When the earthquake hit my mom and were asleep. He said he had to work late that night and didn’t come home till a few hours after. We-We tried to drive to the lab but soldiers wouldn’t let us out of the neighborhood.”

“Do you believe her?”, the pretty boy asks and you sigh in relief when Eddie finally nods. “Your father isn’t at your house right now. Where is he?”

“Is that where you went? To my house?”, you ask with a shake in your tone. “Did you hurt my mom?!”

“SIT. DOWN.”, the metalhead bellows and you immediately listen. “No, we didn’t but we did go through your father’s office. Have you ever been in there?”

“No…he-he keeps it locked.”

“Hm. Well now you can know why.”, Steve replied with distain as he reached behind him before tossing a manila folder your way. 

Along the tab written in black marker were the words “Project Sunlight” and as you opened it you covered your mouth to hide the shock when pictures of Eddie and Steve were front and center. As you skimmed the writing, tears began to fall as you recognized your dad’s handwriting on every page you flipped through. 

“Steven Harrington-bit in abdomen by bat like creatures referred to as ‘demobats’.

Edward Munson- bites along cheek, pectorals, abdomen

Both have laceration scars around their necks, Mr. Munson has some as well around his wrists and ankles. Bite wounds healed but scars remain. 

With permission of Mr. Harrington, any other wounds seem to heal quickly. 

Scalpel (X)

Knife(X)

Razor (X)

Tasers (X)

Bullet(X)

Sunlight (able to be in it but in short bursts; too long and it hurts them (see experiment 329).

Mr. Munson woke up today, tried giving him regular food, threw up. (See experiments 490-530)

IV of blood seems to keep them alive but they still crave… 

Mrs. Y/L/N has managed to continue to make them believe that they can survive without blood as long as they ‘fight’. Advised to me both men wish to retain their ‘humanity’ even thought that seems gone.  If we can continue to make them believe taking a human life is to their detriment may avoid another Henry Creel situation. At least until we can figure how to kill them if we need to.

Chief Hopper and Wayne Munson negotiated to have both boys return to ‘normal life’. 

Lab approved so we can watch their progress.”

“I…I don’t…”

“You d-d-don’t…?”, Eddie mocked as he smacked the papers from your hands and searched through them till he found what he was looking for. “Experiment 501, fruit, 502, water, 503 sugar… Your dad and the other doctors snuck food into my body anyway they could making me so sick I genuinely thought I was gonna die.”

“Experiment 314, stabbing me multiple times with sharp objects while I was tied to chair.”, Steve growled. “The Mr. Harrington permission crap? Yeah, not me. My dad gave them permission before taking my mom and running out of town.”

“You want to know the best part, Y/N?”, the metalhead hissed like a snake as he bent down to your level with his hands on his knees. “No one…tried to comfort us… After every experiment they tortured us with…NO ONE told us everything would be alright or that soon it would all be over. Your mother was the closest to a calm voice we got and she told us constantly that these experiments were not only to help us but the people we loved…so we wouldn’t kill or hurt them. They made us believe we were monsters who needed to be subdued. That we needed to suffer just a bit longer till they found a cure.

They weren’t looking for a cure. They were studying us... and guess what, baby girl? We aren’t alone.”

Eddie handed you another sheet of paper with notes your father had taken scribbled on a piece of paper with the hospital’s insignia at the top. 

“Y/N Y/L/N—puncture wounds in neck; assailant unknown

Symptoms—lightheaded, dizzy, fatigue, nausea, fainting, soreness at site of wound

I haven’t seen either Munson or Harrington nor has my daughter subject mentioned any interactions them. Will follow progress. 

48hrs later wound on neck and pain completely gone

How??

Watched her eat human food with no similar side effects as the others. 

Wife and I need to speak with the head of the lab outside of town to see what protocol we should follow or if we should be safe and bring subject in for additional testing.”

“I guess they decided you were fine…or maybe he’s still studying… So I ask again, Y/N, where is your father?”

Feeling overwhelmed, the tears fully begin to fall as you struggle to catch your breath.

Descending onto your knees, Eddie catches you right as you throw your head back and scream.

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

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