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ghost-proofbaby · 2 months

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IT WILL COME BACK (E.M.)

"honey, don't feed me - i will come back."

summary: when eddie came back from the upside down, he was different. and you finally come to realize just how different the man you saved truly is one night, when push comes to shove.

pairings: kas!eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of BLOOD (in sexual manner), mentions of BITING (in sexual manner), allusions to possible coercion (consent is still explicitly stated - trust me), mentions of death and trauma, mentions of eddie's canon death, taking a lot of creative liberty with expansive vampire lore across all media, mentions of murderous dreams? (eddie dreamt about killing reader idk), oral (f receiving), smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY.

wc: 7.7k+

a/n: i told y'all i'd write a serious biting/blood kink fic one day - today is the day. very lazily edited so beware.

When Eddie came back from the Upside Down, he was different.

There were subtle changes at first. Small, minute details that were easy to ignore. Everyone could turn a blind eye to them — everyone figured they would fade once the boy healed. His healing was first priority, and whatever lingered after could be dealt with.

Get Eddie better. Then question all that lingers.

A simple plan. A genius plan. A torturous plan.

The two of you had been friends, if you could even call it that, prior to it all. Teasing in the hallways, working on school projects here and there when in shared classes, he was your favorite (and only) dealer when you craved something to make sleep come just a little bit easier. He had been familiar — an old ghost you'd grown comfortable with, long before you’d seen those large and wet eyes looking back up at you in the boathouse.

Long before he’d pieced together the puzzle pieces as to why you’d needed the weed to cancel out the nightmares. Long before he’d processed exactly what those nightmares entailed.

But then, you’d fought for him. You’d fought with him. And most importantly, you’d bled with him.

God, you had bled for him.

Something admirable had blossomed in that short time. Eddie’s entire life had fallen apart, thread by frayed thread, and that new planted emotion had been the only solid thing to emerge for him to absolutely cling to. You were more than a fellow classmate to pass by in the hallways. You were more than his favorite customer, always weaponizing fluttering lashes and puckered lips for a discount he’d have given you regardless.

You were a force to be reckoned with, and had ignited a hunger in him like no other.

That’s all he had thought it was when he’d awoken in his living room — not the distorted version but the real one — to you screaming for the others to help you as you’d sealed his wounds. That’s all he had thought it was when you’d come to visit him as wounds turned to scars, and stabbing pains turned to hungering pangs. So he had tried to bury it, listen to Harrington and Wheeler and Buckley when they told him to take time to readjust. He’d locked away that hunger and focused on his healing, just as everyone else had, and told himself it was just residual feelings.

Residual feelings had been bound to happen after seeing someone bloody their hands, with your own blood, for your survival.

And in his burial, he’d never considered a similar hunger igniting somewhere deep within you.

You visited far more often than you should have. Returning time and time again to change his bandages, taking on one too many shifts at the hospital during his unconscious spells and baring your teeth for anyone who got too close. The sweet blood on your hands hadn’t washed away in that first shower; you swore, if you looked closer, you could still see the stain of nearly losing him across your knuckles.

Physical wounds were easier to heal than the internal ones. It was easier to lather on antibiotic lotion than it was to sleep soundly at night. Both of you came to realize that quickly in the weeks that followed Eddie’s return from the dead.

His nights were plagued with bad dreams, with thirst and cravings he couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up, burning up from the inside out with a fever that never existed. Tearing skin. Puncture wounds. Blood spilling across floors and his lips alike. He could never tell if the shivers that traced his spine had been from the cruel visions that had become his nightly visitors or if it was due to his perpetual drop in temperature that had worried Nancy since the very first night home from the hospital, that had concerned the nurses who piled blankets atop him during his week long sleep of recovery.

Your nights were even less kind. Horrific memories were the demons that haunted you — remembering the way you had watched Eddie cut that sheet rope, remembering finding him bloodied on the ground, remembering the warmth of his blood seeping across your palms and how when your ear had turned just as heated with it as you pressed it to his chest. Only to hear nothing. Emptiness.

His heart had stopped for minutes. Plural.

It had been your steady rhythm, your desperate hands and your gasping breaths breathing into his lungs. You’d sunk your claws into him, caught them right between his ribs and had decided he couldn’t leave you.

Some nights, when you wake up screaming, you can still taste his blood on your lips. You sometimes still swore that when you’d checked for a pulse after that, you hadn’t heard anything. Still worried that Eddie Munson’s heart never really restarted and resumed beating.

The worst was when you’d stare through the faded grey of mornings plastering across your room’s walls, and could still remember that initial look in his blown out pupils, once honey brown swallowed in pure black as he’d taken his first breath on his own.

Hunger.

You’d felt it, too. Shame riddled you on the nights you’d come down from the nightmares and remember it; it was as though the Universe had snapped back into place the moment you’d watched his chest first rise. A need so ardent to remain at his side. A chain clicking into place, binding both yourself and Eddie to one another, unaware of just what price had been paid to keep the boy that had laid under you in this world. Unaware of the hunger you had struck the match too that would become both your downfalls.

And so it had been buried. Something alive, even with your doubts of Eddie’s liveliness, and choking on dirt while six feet under. You and Eddie, two sides of the same coin, had decided to not speak of it. He never told you how he had come to be able to pinpoint your heartbeat in every shared room he entered, throat burning as his gaze always settled on you, and you never told him of the matching aches that had shamefully sparked within your chest and between your hips for him.

A hunger to be near one another. A hunger to devour. Neither of you really understood the heaviness.

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?” Steve asks as he sits on the edge of the new bed in the new apartment in the new part of town the Munson men now occupy.

Government money could go a Hell of a long way. Especially after your home had been devastated by the aftermath of alternate dimensions and unheard of evil being defeated.

“Fine,” is the only response Eddie can muster.

In reality, every time anyone came near him now, he burned. His throat tightened till it was surely raw, he swore his teeth sharpened until a mere slip of his tongue against his canines could bring the taste of metallic blood to his mouth. His entire body would tense with every person that walked through his door.

Control. Whatever was happening to him, Eddie needed to exercise control.

“Just fine?” Steve continues on, not catching the drift as he puts down the bag of things he’d bought at Eddie’s request. Basic things — painkillers, packs of cigarettes, a 6-pack. Some habits die harder and can’t be controlled, “You look like shit, Munson.”

“Gee, thanks, Stevie.”

Everyone had assumed the dark shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes would fade. They assumed his cheeks would eventually fill back out. They assumed he could wash away the ashen shade his hair now flatly flowed in. It was as if the life had been drained from Eddie since that day, and they had all assumed it would eventually flow back into him.

It never did. Just as his new hunger lingered, so did the look of Death.

“Sorry, man,” Steve throws his hands up, shrugging a bit before he stands, “Just being honest. It’s the best policy.”

“Is it? Is it really?”

If honesty was the best policy, Eddie could have filled the room with it. He could admit about the nightmarish wants, needs, he’d been keeping at bay. He could admit the way his irritation had been growing this last week every time another body, another friend, walked through his doorway and it wasn’t you. You, who had begun to plague the night terrors. You, who Eddie was beginning to crave far more than he had before he’d stared the afterlife down the barrel of the gun.

Steve just looks at Hawkins’ newest zombie boy, sighing, “Look, I don’t know what’s got you pissed off-“

“The whole dying thing, for starters.”

“-or why you’ve insisted on being an asshole to all of us these last few weeks-“

“Again, I died.”

“-but you’ve got everyone but me scared to visit you. We’re all scared of you biting our heads off, dude,” Steve finally finishes with a scowl.

Everyone. It’s unspoken that you’re included in the generalization.

It occurs to Eddie that maybe, just maybe, he should be kinder if he ever wants the ache of yearning to see you again to fade. If that’s what he could call this ache.

By the time Steve has left, Eddie’s still thinking about his warning. About the way he had been unusually cruel since coming back to life, since waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed. It made sense initially. But he wasn’t handcuffed to a hospital bed anymore — he was home, or as close to home as he could get, and he was technically safe.

The issue was that he’d accepted his safety. Everyone who had wanted Eddie Munson dead was now six feet under themselves. No, the bigger issue at hand was everyone else’s safety.

Your safety.

Once he’d realized you were the staring lead in his violent fantasies, he had stopped calling. Half of your absence last week had been his fault.

No one really bothered to look deeper into it. Steve didn’t press as to why Eddie’s fridge had remained empty, Nancy didn’t take second glances at the odd books on vampire tales that were now littering all the free real estate of Eddie’s room, and you hadn’t questioned the coldness of his tone whenever he spoke to you. The chill of his words had grown icier than his own palms, desperate to keep you at arm’s length until he figured out what had changed in him that day he came back to life.

He wanted you near. He wanted to rip your throat out. He wanted your blood to stain his mouth and neck just as his had stained your hands. That was an issue. That wasn’t normal.

Something had changed in Eddie Munson, and it had terrified him to his twisted core, and no one had cared enough to notice. Not yet.

–

It took you two weeks to be fed up with the radio silence.

Eddie stopped calling even Jonathan (the only one of the group he found he didn’t want to devour whole, as it turns out). When everyone had mentioned it in passing, it had only reminded you of the sleepless nights you’d be enduring. That small voice in the back of your head that had called out to you in the dead of night, the whisper of come to me that echoed all the way across a broken town.

Come to me.

Sometimes you swore it was Eddie’s voice calling to you. Sometimes, you nearly left your own new apartment in the dead of night, and let your legs guide you to the undead boy you had single-handedly revived.

Tonight was one of those nights. Your stomach was twisting, your head was pounding, your bones were aching. Every single inch of you hurt as it listened to that soft calling, and at some point, you gave in.

Hunger. You were insatiable with the need and drive to be at Eddie’s side. Warnings from the others be damned.

One thing leads to another. You find your coat, you find your car keys. You find yourself driving the deserted streets of Hawkins in the middle of the night. You find yourself on the Munson doorstep, knuckles shaking and aching with the knowledge that just beyond the wood of the door, he was there. You don’t have to see him to feel him; his thrumming presence, his anchoring existence.

Come to me.

The door swings open before you get the chance to knock. This string tying your two souls together is not a one-way channel, it seems.

“Why are you here?”

You watch him wince as the harsh words leave him. Immediately, you know that the abrasiveness is on instinct. Just as something claws inside of you to be near him, there is something within him howling to keep you far from him.

The polarity of two magnets. Some nights, surely, his twists in a way that would draw him to you, just as yours will twirl with the sensibility that whatever has changed within him should give you cause to run as far away from him as possible.

But tonight, your magnetism only yanks you closer to him. He doesn’t even invite you in, and yet, you find yourself stepping over the threshold of the new apartment.

“You’ve gone quiet,” you whisper as an answer. It’s not what he wants to hear, grimace deepening, nearly a scowl now, “I just… It’s been weeks. I…”

I missed you. I needed you. I heard you in my dreams and I’ve never had much self-control when it comes to you.

Magnets are a useless metaphor for whatever is happening here between you. A better comparison would be the cliche image of a moth to a flame; he’s dangerous, threatening to burn you alive, and you still find your heart fluttering after him hopelessly. You’re going to get scorned, and you’ll still never learn. You’ve fallen victim to a tired narrative that you’d rolled your eyes at in a plethora of books. How many times had you sworn that wouldn’t be you? Just how many eye rolls had you exhausted at the mere idea?

And now, here you were, on his doorstep. Grasping for something you’re not sure either of you can give.

“I’ve been dealing with a few things,” he mutters as he shuts the door behind you, shielding you both from the chill of the night. The room is still cold, especially in his radius, “Didn’t think it would make much of a difference.”

“You didn’t think I’d care if you just stopped calling?” you turn slowly, taking in the state of the living room. Wayne was clearly gone for the night, work most probably, and several books littered the coffee table. Eddie had been the one reading them, lounging on the couch.

The last time you had seen him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed on his own.

He’s keeping an unusual distance, nearly leaning back out of your vicinity, “Figured you were busy.”

He’s never been this short with you. His words are choked up, his body tense with pain. You assume it’s just his injuries bothering him.

You couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re completely unaware.

“I brought you back from the dead, and you think I’d still be too busy for you,” you laugh humorlessly, fully in disbelief at his pitiful excuse, “Eddie, we could find out Vecna didn’t really die, those damn cracks in the Earth could open right back up, and the first person I’d care about finding is you.”

The animal inside that had been yearning for his presence is satiated for now, but you can still feel it lurking in the darkest depths of your mind, ready to call out a new request at any moment. It’s the distraction that has you spilling pathetic truths.

The only response he offers you is a dead stare. With eyes wide, pupils nearly swallowed up by darkness.

“You could have called,” your voice cracks, body shaking with the effort not to take a step closer to him, “You could have just let me know you were still alive.”

“I-”

He cuts himself off when he’s the one taking a step closer. His entire face twists with pain, and you give up keeping your distance. In an instant, you’re at his side as your hand reaches out for his bicep.

He flinches away. Something inside of you burns.

Your hand is hovering in the air between the two of you, and in this lighting, you swear the skin is still stained with the blood that won’t wash away.

“Please don’t,” he begs, “I’m fine, but… please.”

You don’t know what he’s begging for. Distance, for you to pull your hand away, time – you don’t know what he needs.

“We should sit down,” you insist, finally pulling your hand as far from him as possible but making no move to put the space back between you two, “Has anyone helped you with your bandages? If your wounds got infected-”

“They didn’t.”

“If you didn’t change the bandages, they definitely could have-”

“They’re not infected,” he grits out, but he’s still walking over to the couch regardless, “They’re healed.”

Healed.

Mere weeks ago, those wounds were still deep enough to keep you from ever achieving a full night's rest. Deep enough to worry you to the core that you would wake up to them finally having consumed him. Deep enough that you all assumed it would take him months, not weeks, to recover.

“What do you mean they healed, Eddie?” you whisper, almost reaching out for him as he sits down.

Your hand twitches, but the echoes of his begging and his flinching keep it at bay as you stand before him.

“I mean, they healed,” he huffs, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. He’s looking anywhere in the room but at you, his gaze subverting you with purpose. As though the mere sight of you, the mere proximity, is painful to him, “Don’t know how, don’t know why – they just did.”

“So why are you still in pain?”

A sharper intake of breath. A hush of silence falling over the apartment. Even the buzz of the building’s AC unit has faded from all your senses. It’s just you and him, and a heavy quietude like no other.

Until he finally breaks the surface tension, breathing out, “You.”

Your heart drops. That tug inside your chest, the one taut as you look at him right within your reach yet still so far away, almost snaps.

“Me?”

He nods with a harsh swallow, “I- Look, I can’t explain it, but when I came back, I came back…”

“Different?”

He doesn’t have to explain it. You’d felt it.

The moment his eyes had opened, just moments after what should have been blissful victory. The taste of his blood heavy on your tongue, a terrible sweetness that had choked you rather than its initial metallic twang. The whispers of his voice in your mind.

He wasn’t the only one changed from whatever had occurred that night.

“Different is a good way of putting it,” he nods, looking up with apologetic eyes, “It’s not you. It’s cliche as fuck, but it really isn’t – it’s me. I died, and you brought me back, but I don’t think either of us knew the cost.”

The yearning. The nightmares. The unmanageable needs. The hunger.

“What was the cost?”

He almost doesn’t hear you. Your voice is a whisper, tone weighed down with the curse of knowing.

You might not have known the cost when you were pressing your palms into his chest through your wretched sobs, functioning as his heart and lungs for nearly a minute, but you think you might have a clue now.

All that had been tethering you to him since he’d come back to you, all those webs and strings that had formed their knots around both of your necks. He’d changed, and you had plummeted right into the chasm of the unknown with him.

His blood on your tongue, sweet as honey.

Blood shouldn’t be sweet.

He grabs one of the books off the coffee table, motioning for you to join him on the couch. Under the weight of your realization, you’re nearly under a trance. All he has to do is wave a hand, and you follow.

You’re at his beck and call. Just like you had been when he’d been calling out for you, yearning for you.

“Don’t make me say it,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the book into your lap the moment you’ve sat down. This time, you’re mindful to keep your distance.

This time, you’re painfully aware of the compromising situation the two of you have found yourselves in.

The book is older, leather-bound and worn from years of readers’ careless hands breaking the spine. The corners of every page are weather, close to disintegration. The entire thing could easily pass for a Halloween decoration.

It’s not. You flip open to the title page, and if Eddie didn’t appear so deathly serious at your side, you would have scoffed.

“Dracula?” you question carefully, running a finger over the delicate script of the title, “Eddie, I don’t-”

“I’m not insane,” he interrupts you, “I’m not fucking- I swear to you. I’ve gathered up every goddamn book about it that I can. Fictional, nonfictional. Just- there’s obviously a Hell of a lot more fictional material to work with, okay?”

A vampire. He’s convinced he’s a vampire.

And even worse – you’re convinced right along with him.

You turn your head to look at him, trying to find the right words, but all you find is Eddie burying his face in his hands, head nearly hung between his knees.

“I can’t eat normal food anymore,” his voice is muffled, “That was the first sign. Couldn’t stomach it, made me throw up for hours when I tried. And then all those nurses kept talking about how I was healing faster than they expected. Most of my smaller cuts – those healed in under a day,” he finally lifts his face just enough to turn and peer at you through all the stray curls that fall into his vision, “My vision and hearing were the next things I noticed. Remember how I had a nonstop migraine those first few days?”

He doesn’t need to convince you, but the argument is compelling, “It… wasn’t a migraine.”

He shakes his head. “Not even close. Just turns out that it’s a killer to get used to fucking superhuman night vision and impeccable hearing. I still can’t handle being out in the sun very long. I don’t… burn up or any of that shit, but… it just…” he trails off, shoulders falling in defeat before he throws himself back against the couch. When he continues, his tone is flat, devoid of all emotion, “I keep having these dreams about you, too. Bad dreams. Terrible dreams.”

You shut the book, toss it back onto the coffee table, and decide to Hell with keeping your distance.

You need it. Even if he’ll only allow you to get an inch closer to him, you need it.

“What do you mean by terrible dreams?” you ask, breath catching at the end of your question as you scoot yourself closer on the couch. Even with such a small movement, Eddie is quick to notice, eyes flicking to you quickly with a sense of urgency flashing behind them.

“Don’t,” he lowly warns.

“What’s happening in your dreams, Eddie?”

Another inch closer. His jaw clenches.

“Sweetheart, do not-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Your knee bumps into his thigh, and you watch him go rigid. Hands turning to fists, eyes pinching shut and face twisting with the same pain he’d worn the ghost of when you first arrived at the apartment.

The moment you touch him, you see it. The flashes of his nightmares, all those terrible actions haunting him every time he closed his eyes. You. Your blood. That hunger.

Like a blackhole in the center of your stomach, it burns viciously as it sucks the air out of your lungs. It threatens to cave your entire being into itself until there’s nothing left. Not even a crumb of who you once were.

But it's not yours. It’s Eddie’s.

That pain on his face is only exhibiting a fraction of what he was feeling. That dizzying craving that he’d miraculously been keeping at bay since you’d simply entered the building, not even yet knocking on his door. You hadn’t even been in the same room as him yet, and he had still known. Had smelt you, had felt you.

He could almost taste you.

“You…” you have to shift your knee away from him, break the touch, break the connection, “You haven’t fed since you woke up.”

“I haven’t fed, period.”

With the connection severed, he somehow finds it in himself to open his eyes once more. You don’t know how – if he’s feeling what you’d just been privy to, you’d be an incoherent mess on the floor. Something feral and unrecognizable.

Although, maybe he was nearly there. You couldn’t see his pupils. That same look when he’d first woken up – a man swallowed whole by hunger.

“You’ve been dreaming about ripping my throat out,” you say it as a matter of fact, not a lick of judgment in your tone.

It wasn’t you scrutinizing him. It was what you had seen, with one simple touch.

His voice is hoarse as he echoes in confirmation, “I’ve been dreaming about ripping your throat out.”

You should probably be afraid. All your survival instincts should be kicking in, your feet should be carrying you towards the door, you shouldn’t be leaning in closer.

“You know what really sealed the whole vampire ordeal though, sweetheart?” he breathes out, your eyes fluttering shut at the lull in his hushed tone.

Just as you’ve been leaning in, he’s been slowly turning his body to face yours, hands twitching at his sides. He’s no longer retreating from your presence, sucking down breaths in harsh gulps the closer you grow to him.

He’s losing control. You’re losing control.

That thread, vibrant red as it draws you near him, is clear as day now. A noose around your neck. A road to your damnation.

A road to your hunger.

You hardly hum in response, completely entranced now. Had he ever been capable of this before? Of holding you beneath such an inescapable spell with such ease?

Probably.

He doesn’t use his words to answer. Instead, he finally takes the plunge.

His head ducks down towards your neck just as his hands lose the war, grabbing onto your hips, dragging you dangerously close to him until his lips hovered just over your pulse point. And by some strength that you certainly don’t possess, he stops there. Letting his lips barely brush against your soft skin, breath coming out in pants for you to feel, to relish, to get lost in. And just as soon as those pants, those waves, become a comfortable pattern to succumb to, you feel them.

His fangs.

Grazing over your sensitive skin. Sharp tips nipping at a surface they could so easily break, pierce with one wrong move. Your pulse is thrumming beneath the surface, heart racing painfully as Eddie’s grip turns bruising.

Come to me.

“Please.”

You’re the one begging now. It goes against every rule you’ve ever seen applied in fiction. If a vampire is baring their fangs against your neck, you should be reaching for a stake. The only noise escaping you should be a scream for help, not the pathetic whimpers beginning to slip out.

“I can’t,” you feel his gasp more than you can hear it. Your blood is too loud, roaring in your ears as you feel the fangs slip with his words, “I can’t.”

That hunger you felt, the one that had called out to you through the night and led you right to his doorstep, is unavoidable now. You need him closer, you need him to do this. For the first time since you had saved his life and tasted his blood after the Upside Down, everything seems to click into place. All he needs to do is let them sink into you, take that final leap of faith and reprieve that ache you’ve battled for weeks now.

You’re so close. So close.

“Eddie, please,” you’re nearly sobbing, hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer.

But you’re no match for his strength. You don’t know if it’s a new addition with his vampire business or if there was always more to him than met the eye, but he easily stays stoic against your attempts, not moving a centimeter. Still hovering, still just barely making contact with your heartbeat.

“I-” his head drops slightly, tip of his nose beginning to trail down the side of your neck, mouth no longer dangerously close, “You saw my dreams-”

“I trust you.”

You do. You trust him even more now than you had when you first stumbled upon him in the boathouse. More than when he had pleaded his case, promised he hadn’t been the one to kill Chrissy Cunningham. The trust comes easier than breathing as his nose nuzzles into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“You shouldn’t,” he mutters, fangs now brushing your collar bone, “You really, really shouldn’t.”

He doesn’t stop you when you move to straddle his hips. Your weight settles onto his lap, and he only fights to keep his face burrowed there in your shoulder, arms now moving around your waist to hold you tightly to him.

His self-control is impeccable. You’d admire him and all this impressiveness another time, when something inside of you wasn’t lamenting his resistance.

All at once, it occurs to you how to give him the final push.

“Did I ever tell you how sweet your blood was on my tongue after I brought you back?” you start, sighing, rolling your shoulders to expose more of your neck, grip on his shoulders tightening, “All that blood, all those tears, and I still can’t forget how welcome that warmth of you was in my mouth. How I needed more. How I pictured it every night, after every nightmare-”

He breaks.

One moment, his nose is buried in your skin. And the next, his fangs are.

You weren’t sure what to expect, but relief would have been low on your list. You gasp out in initial shock, but as you feel his teeth dig in, it’s as though something has snapped. The ache has been satiated, preening as you feel the warmth of your blood contrast the chill of his chin pressing into you.

If there’s any pain, you don’t feel it through the haze of pleasure.

Ice shards spread through your bloodstream, but the point in which Eddie’s mouth is connected to you radiates heat. He’s pulling you into him, letting go completely and relinquishing all that control as he nearly purrs against your skin in satisfaction. That connection is back, two minds linking with a heavy click, and you can feel all his pleasure mingling with your own. Satiation, desperation, adoration – the plethora of emotions all swarm your head and block out any better judgment.

You’d let him drain you dry, if that’s what he needed. If nothing more than to hear those soft moans as his fangs sink even deeper.

He pulls back too soon, though, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as quickly as he had given in to both your desires, he’s putting an end to them. He hadn’t taken much blood, but your head is swimming from the loss all the same. Your grip has gone slack on him, hands slipping down to just barely cradle his biceps while his own touch stays unyielding around you.

You can hear his thoughts. Or rather, maybe more aptly put, you can feel them.

He wants to devour you. Wholly, ruthlessly.

He looks up at you with pupils still blown wide, chest heaving and a small scarlet drip trailing from the corner of his mouth. For the first time since he’d come back to you, he looks alive. Hair fluffed in a halo around his head, skin tinted with a healthy glow and unmistakable blush, bags beneath his eyes faded for the time being.

You were never quite sure if Eddie Munson’s heart had ever restarted, knew for certain that it hadn’t now, but you swear you can feel its pulse finally thrumming for you.

I need more.

It’s his voice in your head, echoing in the empty space as you look down with wild eyes to match his.

But it’s your voice in his head when you respond instantaneously.

Then take it.

Something unspoken lies there in the need. He doesn’t move back to your neck, doesn’t bite down and drink his fill of your blood. He only stares for a few seconds, watching the welt of blood that pools from each puncture wound of his making. His eyes follow when it runs down your skin, as though he might lose it should he so much as blink. Down, down, down. Following the trail that his nose had followed minutes before, across your collarbone until it stains the neck of your loose shirt.

My pleasure.

His hold proves helpful when he quickly changes positions, roughly throwing you down onto the couch before he’s settled between your thighs, crawling his way up your body. He pays close attention to the maroon trail on your throat, his tongue cleaning up after his mess, savoring the taste of you on his tongue.

Sweet as honey.

His tongue only pauses for a moment over the bite wound, pressing into it, making your back arch as you press yourself fully into him. Your head digs painfully into the cushion behind you as you expose your neck, wanting and begging and pleading all without words.

“I think we should take this off,” he plucks at the hem of your shirt, tugging hard before he begins to carefully lift. His freezing knuckles brush against your burning skin, eliciting a whimper from you, “Before we make an ever bigger mess. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”

A sultry tone you’ve never heard from him before. Honeyed words, familiar to how he once spoke, but entirely new in the way they curl around you. There’s a confidence there, a baiting that he’s luring you with.

“Yes, please.”

He could ask anything of you in this moment, and you’d be eager to comply. Fueled by your desire for him before the events of spring break, worsened by his new condition. A bright, red, vibrating thread. You couldn’t severe the tie if you wanted to.

And you most certainly did not want to.

Your shirt is removed, his hands careful despite the way they shake. His words may be smooth, but each move is jagged, the only sign you had that he’s still exercising control.

“And these?” he whispers, lowering his lips to your sternum as he toys with the band of your pants. His fangs scratch down the center of your stomach as it quivers with each breath, careful to not break skin as they make their presence known. You nearly lose all capability to speak until he says, “Use your words, baby. Tell me I can take them off.”

Yes.

His eyes flare, looking up to you, “Use your words. Not your mind. I want to hear how badly you need me – I want everyone to hear you beg.”

The words strike straight to your core. Lashing out in your lower stomach, burning deliciously.

It’s more than putting on a show. He needs to know you want this.

“Take them off,” you gasp out, hands wandering to tangle in his hair, “Take- Take it all off. I’m yours, Eddie.”

Shaking hands perform a dance you had long since fantasized about. In easier days, when Eddie had been uninvolved in the episode down, heart still beating along as he would bounce his knees in front of you and his fingers would idly fiddle with his pencils and pens. A yearning, a wanting, you’d always held for the boy.

He used to be an escape from it all. A pretty thing to daydream about when you weren’t worried about monsters. And now – he was one of the monsters.

Your monster. Tied to you inexplicably, brought back by your hands and your stubborn efforts.

His lips and fangs are one in the same, trailing along your body as he finds a home at the apex between your thighs. Even in undeath, he’s the most beautiful thing your mind could conjure.

You’d forgotten how he was privy to your every thought until he reacts.

“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, smirking salaciously as he mouths innocently at that sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick a cool stride before he breathes out against it. It has you writhing beneath his hold, “You’ve wanted this all this time, sweetheart? Wanted to see me, between these pretty thighs, making you scream my name?” His mouth falls open a bit wider, the sharp canines pressing but not sinking against where he had just licked. He holds there, eyes locking with yours, until he pulls back to cockily say, “Could’ve just said something, y’know. Didn’t have to bring me back from the dead to have me devoted to you.”

Finally, finally, he lets his fangs sink back into you. The soft meat of your thigh is more pliant in his mouth, and he doesn’t linger as long as he had on your neck. One nick, just enough to start the blood flow, before he’s pulling back and licking hungrily at the scarlet liquid. Less for feeding, more for marking.

Marking you as his, just as you have with him. His methods just appeared a bit more physical.

He’s quick to avert his focus on your cunt, no warning before the tongue still covered in your blood is taking long strides over your entrance and clit. Devotion. That was the only word to describe the way he was unraveling you, alternating between indulging in your sweet cunt and returning back to that bite, going as far to even sink his teeth in a second time to take a proper drink of you. His chin and lips grow slick with it all – with the blood, with your wetness, with his own saliva. A starved man with a feast before him.

The way he’s rutting his hips into the couch as he slings your legs over his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed.

It’s a mess. A wonderful, satisfying, enchanting mess.

Beautiful. So beautiful, all mine.

His voice has you teetering on an edge of new carnal pleasure. Completely consumed by him, your hands tugging viciously at his curls. His face is round once more, eyes and cheeks no longer sunken in, vitality being breathed into him with each taste of your blood.

Let me touch you. Please.

You beg over that connection, trying your best to not buck your hips mercilessly against his tongue. You feel his wicked grin.

“You’re already touching me, sweetheart,” he reaches up, untangling your fingers from his hair for emphasis before he’s pinning them to your sides, “And what did I say about using our words? Hm?”

“Need more,” your voice is wrecked as you tilt your head back, wrists straining against his hold, “I need more.”

You’re fully light-headed now, the blood loss finally catching up. Maybe you were about to let him drain you dry.

And what a beautiful way to die. At the hand, at the fangs, of the one you had fought so urgently to bring back to you.

One last timid lick to the wound on your thigh, and he’s crawling his way back up to you. The mess doesn't phase you as he kisses you hungrily – the blood remains sweet rather than metallic, the remnants of your juices still on his tongue – and you meet him with an unbridled fervent. Nipping at his lips with your own dull canines as if you were the one looking for a bite of vivacity.

You don’t know when he lets go of your wrists, or when your hands find their way up beneath his shirt. The specifics don’t matter once he’s naked before you, clothes discarded messily to the ground with your own. The only thing that matters is the weight of him, the reminder that he was still here as his hips roll into yours and the head of him catches on your entrance.

He had been dead. For minutes. And you had brought him back to you.

The process had taken longer than the mere CPR administered, had taken weeks of whatever waiting game you two had tortured yourselves with, but you had him now. He was yours. You were his. There wasn’t a deity, a monster, an omniscient being in this world that could take that away from you. Not even Death herself.

“Last chance, baby,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up so that not a single inch of his skin pressed to yours. You nearly cried out, missing that connection, missing him. Your hunger, the hunger for him entirely, rattles your bones once more, “Say the word, and I’ll-”

“No,” your hands pause their exploration of skin jagged with scars. Reminders of those few dreadful moments in which the world existed without Eddie Munson in it, that would fade in time but never fully disappear. Always there, just like the stain of his blood on your palms. Always there, just like your desperation to have him at your side. “I meant it when I said I’m yours. I’m not changing my mind. I want this.”

His skin is back on yours, body laid fully along your own road map, and it all comes flooding back. The pain of seeing his lifeless body, the nights spent in an eerie hospital room, baring your own teeth at any one who came too close to the man you had pulled back from the ledge of Death. The anxiety, the fear, the relief, the yearning – it all accumulates as he’s pressing into you, brimming you so full that there’s no room for memories of nightmares.

He’s here. He’s yours. You’re his.

His heart didn’t need to beat for you to accept that truth.

You can’t decipher which chants of your name fall from his lips for others to hear, and which ones whisper in the depths of your mind for only you to bear witness to. Each curse, each grunt, each moan – there for you and only you anyways. You’re entirely unsure if your lips even separate once as he thrusts, cock brushing somewhere deep in you that has you clenching around him.

And if his fangs wander, it only adds to the pleasure.

Blood, sweat, and tears all mingle between your bodies. He’s holding you tighter than water, as though you’re at risk of disappearing from him at any given moment. But that link between your two minds, your two souls, is unwavering. It’s the only thing grounding you to the moment as your half curls around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back. Urging him, pressing him, taking him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says it out loud, this time. You feel his lips brushing against your ear as he does, “Gripping me so tightly. This pussy was fucking made for me.”

Every movement only unlocks something more feral inside the two of you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines to trace over once it’s all said and done. There’s enough shallow bite marks across your neck that you’ll be wearing scarves for weeks, months. The others might question it, strangers might stare, but the pride you feel as he marks you is unmatched for any anxiety about it.

That black hole of hunger is no longer swallowing either of you whole. That debilitating pain, that animal inside, has been tamed.

When his hips begin to stutter, mouth no longer capable of the strength to properly bite you as his lips only smear the soft spattering of blood pooling at the base of your throat, you’re already there. Squeezing him tightly, sucking him in, voice raw as you let everyone know who’s ravishing you.

Eddie.

Hawkins’ newest zombie boy – Hawkins’ newest vampire.

The climax is just as pleasurable as the lead up. The haze lingers long after his spent has dripped out of you, long after he’s collapsed into your body with exhaustion and contentment. The blood dries, the wounds clot – but that haze doesn’t falter.

As long as his skin presses to yours, you feel that caress of his mind against yours.

“Did…” you’re breathless as his face nuzzles into your nude chest, a few mindless hums of gratification still slipping from him as you bring a hand to toy with the curls at the crown of his head, “Did any of your vampire books say anything about… that?”

The connection. The bloodlust. The spell you swear he still has you under, even as it’s all said and done.

He snorts against your skin, “Not that I, uh, recall.”

“What? You mean to tell me in all your research, you never dived into any vampire smut?” you tsk jokingly, a calm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He lifts his head, and you swear, those honey-brown irises have threads of a deep maroon now, “You’re slacking, Munson.”

“Why read about it when I can just experience it?” he coos, letting his nose and lips drag across your still hot skin before he rests his chin on your sternum, “Besides, I mean – we’ll need to do this again, won’t we, baby? For research.”

Your head still spins. Your body aches in a welcome manner. There will be a need for explanations to others, for actually researching his condition, later on. But for now, it’s enough.

The pounding behind your ribcage, the one you know Eddie feels for the both of you when his ear presses to your chest, is enough.

Of course, lover.

That thought stays between the two of you. The world doesn’t need to know what can’t hurt them.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #kas!eddie munson #kas!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #reader essentially became soul bound to him womp womp #don't drink a vampire's blood kids #i really didn't edit that intensely i spent two hours fucking with photoshop #if it's bad it's bad #finally dipping my toes into kas!eddie tho wahoo #vampire!eddie munson #someone requested eddie with this song forever ago but i lost the ask #eddie reading dracula to figure out if he's become a vampire is actually so fucking funny to me

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tau1tvec · 5 months

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S/O to a few of my favorite TS3CC Creators

I know this community is small, and therefore doesn't get as much love and attention as it deserves, but know that it is alive and well, much like my love for it, and it's many thanks to these ppl for keeping it fresh and fun even today.

@simtanico literally what would my sims be without you and your amazing sliders, slider fixes, and conversions.

@rollo-rolls you always work so hard to keep our sims looking stylish, I know a lotta people in this community appreciate you as much as I do!

@johziii you put so much love into your CC as you do your sims, homes and gameplay, you're truly the whole package!

@sim-songs an absolute legend for helping revive the Maxis Match ts3 community!

@nectar-cellar an absolute legend, period.

@imamiii idk how you do it, but you make this game look how it probably would had it been released today. Whether it's your gameplay posts, or your CC, I know when I see your post on my dash, I'm bound to be blown away.

@sourlemonsimblr still can't tell whether we're playing the same game, bc everything you post looks like The Sims 10, but I am so glad you're willing to share your CC with us, so maybe one day we will be playing the same game, lol.

@pleaseputnamehere just thought I'd let you know that I kiss your nosemasks goodnight as I tuck them into bed.

@xiasimla an amazing talented and devoted creator all around, every download post is a WIN.

@martassimsbook you keep my love for ts3's buy/build mode alive!

@billsims-cc ty for never giving up on us. 😭😭😭

@bioniczombie for sharing your amazing conversions, and helping run one of my favorite ts3cc finds blogs!

@satellite-sims although you aren't too active right now, I miss you, and I love your conversions sm. The extra work you put into making them the absolute best quality, just like all your posts is so loved and appreciated.

@simbouquet your mods and fixes are such a MUST, you always know exactly what this game needs, and execute it like a pro.

@phoebejaysims another amazing modder keeping this game truly interesting, ty so much for your dedication.

@criisolatex you're like some ethereal being sent to Earth on a mission to make ts3 the best it can be, and you're kind enough to share it with us.

@nemiga-sims-archive you pop out every once and a while like an all year round Santa giving us presents to throw into our games. TY!

@olomaya you work so hard to expand and improve and also make the gameplay in ts3 a lot more interesting.

@twinsimming you know you carry ts3 simblr, right? 💕

@thesweetsimmer111 besides being just the most talented animator I've ever seen in any modding community, your dedication to the youngest and ignored age groups is most admirable, ty.

@flotheory yet another talented and devoted modder giving ts3 the love and attention it deserves. I just know the devs would be so proud.

@greenplumbboblover you've always got something big up your sleeve, your ambition knows no bounds, and the ts3 community is so lucky to have you.

I'm likely forgetting some folks, so I'll probably add some more when I remember, and ty again everyone on this list for working so hard to keep this game alive, and fun, and freeeeeee!

#the sims 3 #ts3 #smallsimblrsaturday

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blehrbie-blog · 1 year

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Neteyam x Reader story

Sooo, I haven't written anything in genuine years. But after watching Avatar:TWOW I've become hyperfixated and have been scrolling and refreshing the Neteyam x Reader tag basically since the movie came out. As a consequence I've had this idea in the back of my mind that I thought was very sweet and cute (something we all need after that movie) so I decided to sit down and give it a go and see what comes out of my brain. So here it is. I haven't properly edited it and it's pretty much a 1000 words of word vomit and a bunch of time skips but it made me happy to write so I'm sharing it.

Oh, BTW SPOILERS!! but also I don't stick to the event's of the movie so idk I'm just putting it out there in case someone hasn't watched the trailer.

So the idea is our girl meets Neteyam informally for the first time when they're 9. She gets cornered in the jungle by a Palulukan and Neteyam helps her run away from it. She had always known who he is being the firstborn son of the Toruk Makto. She remembers her mom telling her about the big ceremony the Tribe had when he was first born. Everyone knew him.

- You shouldn't go into Palulukan territory without being careful - he says, looking a bit unsure about her now that there's no imminent danger.

- I didn't know I was in its territory

- Don't wander off too far on your own then.

___________________________

After this meeting, you get closer and become friends, which means as a consequence you occasionally hang out with the rest of Neteyam's family. However, as he gets older and his Dad starts preparing him to be a warrior and later on Lo'ak as well you don't have as much time to spend as you once did laughing and roaming around in the jungle exploring thick forests and shallow pools of water. It's not like you have nothing to do with your life, you do! You've been thinking of taking up lessons from the Tsahik, to see how you can use the spirit of Eywa and nature to help people who are hurting. It just so happens that the Tsahik is Neteyam's grandmother so you sometimes end up seeing him come back from a mission with his father and you share sweet smiles from across the camp.

When the tribe moves to the floating rocks, you are required by the Tsahik to help those injured from the journey and the ones getting used to the new terrain. So you're even more often in the same circles. As you're working one day about to go over to help Ninat with her sprained ankle, someone taps you on the shoulder

-You seem busy with work. - says Neteyam smiling sweetly at you

-Oh! Yes, I was just about to start. How's your training going?

You hadn't spoken in a while, just a quick wave or nod when crossing paths throughout the day. You hadn't noticed but he towers over you by a couple inches now. He nods towards his dad who's speaking with Neytiri at the edge of their tent.

-You know, just the usual responsibilities of carrying on the legacy. - His eyes gaze into you softly, like he's memorizing your face after not seeing it for long. He shakes it off and looks down - Have you got many tasks today?

-Not too much actually, just need to check up on Ninat and prepare some medicinal salves.

- I want to see you later – He looks back up into your eyes and smiles – Maybe we can go on one of our expeditions like before.

You chuckle – Sure, I'd love that.

With a final nod of approval, he stalks away to his parent's side.

When you meet later towards sunset he's waiting patiently with his Ikran by the vines connecting the Hallelujah Mountains to the Jungle below.

-We won't go too far out into the jungle so we have time to come back before sunrise. - He says as he connects his Queue with the Ikran and gazes at you expectantly – Hop on.

Can I trust that I'll come back alive from this flight? - you raise a skeptical eyebrow. He only went through his Iknimaya ritual not too long ago.

He reaches out a hand to help you up onto the animal – I don't think Eywa would forgive me if I wasted you on a simple flight.

You smile warmly into his shoulder as you hold tight onto him feeling the powerful animal shift under you as you fly out.

Roughly 10 years later

____________________________

When he comes back from the Mitkayina islands. He's taller and broader and his hair is much longer pulled into a loose braid around his Queue. You have a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you first see him. He's magnificent and commanding in his presence. The tribe has gathered all around to accept him and Jake back with a warm welcome. And even though you're hidden by your fellow Na'vi, his eyes immediately find you in the crowd and issue an eager and warm smile on his face.

As soon as he has settled the greetings with the current Olo'eyktan and the Tsahik, he finds you – walking to your sleeping pod. You would have gone to say hello and see him up close but, honestly, you were a bit intimidated. What you now knew was a childhood infatuation with him all those years ago still couldn't handle seeing him all of a sudden in all his... perfect glory. You were a little intimidated. But that doesn't stop him from reaching out for you. You see him jog over with a grin. He grabs you by the shoulders about to pull you into a hug but stops himself at the last moment. His eyes roam you over from head to toe and he looks up with glistening eyes -You've grown! - His tone sounds almost unbelieving

-That tends to happen as time passes, yes – you chuckle, hands coming up to hold onto his arms. His strong arms.

-I'm not too sure what I expected you to look like but you're... way beyond any expectation – He sounds so awe-struck as he's still taking you in, that you start to feel a little embarrassed.

-I can say the exact same thing – You say as you meet his gaze again. As you do his face softens and he brings you into his arms finally.

-I missed you, my friend.

Your hand caresses his hair gently – I missed you too.

You break apart and you decide to go for some late food with him abandoning your plans of sleep.

_______________________

Months later, when they have their first kiss. It's a slow thing. He will say something dry-humoured in his soft voice and she'll forget to laugh too busy staring at him, realizing how in love she is. And has been all these years. And when he notices that she hasn't replied he'll look at her and know immediately. That she's realized, at last. And he'll come to hold her like she's the most precious thing in his world. He'll thread his fingers through her hair bringing her face close to his. Forehead pressed to hers, patiently waiting for her to join him in the reality he has been living. Where they have loved each other for a while, longed and missed unbelievably because of it, and are finally able to bask in it. The warm smiles and looks, the casual closeness that not being apart allows. The things he has been dreaming of. He looks at her lips and back at her eyes, pulling back slightly to give her some space. Maybe she's not entirely understanding his feelings, maybe she's too caught up in her own to recognize his signs, he thinks, ready to give her all the time- When she grabs his neck and drags him back to her. - Neteyam... – her eyes are glossy like she's about to cry. So he caresses her cheeks gently and finally presses their lips sweetly together. And he can not compare it to any other feeling he has ever experienced. It's not like loving her, that's easy and at the same time overwhelming. It has brought him to the point that he is ready to lay down his life and all of his family's expectations to travel back to the tribe just to see her. To be reunited. But this feeling, this kiss is like knowing, that he won't be alone in his love and he can give her his all, his soul. They stay there, lost in the sweetness of being together like never before until the sun has long set and the moon has long risen.

_______________________

That is it! I do realise I keep skipping between tenses, I apologise if anyone finds it annoying and hope you enjoyed!

Edit: I thought it might be useful to put a link to part 2 down here so: Next

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #avatar 2 #reader insert #x reader #female reader #neteyam #jake sully #neteyam x omaticaya!reader

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mythunderstorm · 8 months

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Let you go | MV1

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

summary: despite breaking up with you years ago, it seems like Max‘ still can’t forget about the time you shared.

warnings: short mention of J*s Verstappen, not really an happy ending but still sweet? idk

Normally I don’t write in first person but idk, just wanted to try something so enjoy some (short) heartbreak from Max‘ pov while I mentally prepare myself for the singapore gp lol

masterlist

It had been years since we broke up. Maybe five or even six, I think. Highschool sweethearts. Unbelievably in love but sadly not meant to last. I haven’t seen you since graduation, you going to university, I fulfilled my dream.

That‘s why this is the last place I ever expected to see you again - at one of my races. I remember that smile, that silky hair, those bright eyes, still the same from those years ago.

Just.. you.

You look a little lost, like you’re not exactly sure where to go or what to do. I was the one ending things. My career got more serious, I told you my attention should be a 100% on racing now. I told you what my father told me. I‘m sure you know my dad had something to do with the break up but you never dared to actually ask. I wouldn’t have told you the truth, anyway.

My eyes are entirely focused on you and then your eyes met mine. You realize you‘ve been caught. I notice you're with a friend, maybe even a new relationship. Regardless, seeing you brought back many bitter memories and feelings. I look forward, determined to ignore you, ignoring the part of my soul still in love with you.

I wonder if you sometimes wonder what would have happened if I never ended things with you. Because I certainly do. Would we still be together now? Or would it have ended one way or another?

I wonder if you still miss me, or if there's still any room for love in your heart. Because despite all the time that has passed, I love you. More than you know.

I can see you look up at the podium, proud but sad at the same time. I actually archived my dreams. The ones I told you about all the time while we were teenagers. The whole reason why I broke up with you in the first place. I did it. But sadly, not with you by my side.

It was heartbreaking. I still loved you deeply and after today, I wonder what might have been, if I made a mistake all those years ago.

Bullshit. I know I made a mistake that night. Ever since, your eyes kept me up at night.

I had to try and forget you, but that was much easier said than done. I missed the warmth of your eyes, your warm comforting touch. I missed your sweet voice and laugh. I missed everything about you.

Would you ever talk to me again, if you had the chance? I would want to talk to you. I‘m sure you miss me, even if it’s just a little bit. I was always good at reading your expressions.

But I am not the same guy you used to date in highschool. I’m not sure if I’m still the kind, caring Max you met and fell in love with. Because I don’t think I am that person anymore.

But I wonder the same about you. If you’re still the same caring, kind and friendly person you used to be. But I’m sure you are. You are perfect.

Even in the depths of our break up, no one else could replace you, and I think I'd known that back when we were together. It was impossible to not love you. Your presence alone made me feel like I had wings.

I look back at the late nights you sneaked me into your bedroom. Trying to keep your giggles at bay, getting lost in my eyes.

I miss those late nights we spent together and all the times we snuck around for that quick kiss or touch.

I miss holding your hand secretly underneath the table in the geography class we had together.

I miss holding you closely and feeling the heat of your body.

But most of all, I miss the warm touch of those lips. I wonder if they still taste and feel the same.

Oh what I’d give to kiss you again. Only once. If only you knew the feelings I felt for you. How the mere thought of your fingers on my skin or your voice whispering in my ear made my world stop.

I miss those long and tight hugs, I miss holding you in my arms as if I never wanted to let you go as I kissed your neck.

Oh god, I wish I was down there right now, next to you.

You smile at me and I ask myself if you’re bathing in memories and sorrow just like me. You throw one last glance at me, full of love but full of despair. Like you’re face is trying to say that you’ll always love me endlessly but it just wasn’t meant to be.

I look up and our eyes meet once again, though I know it is for one final goodbye. My heart beats faster as I look down at you from the podium and see this smile on your face. That smile I fell in love with so many years ago. I can't believe you've always lived in my heart, this entire time.

And now I let you go.

Or at least, I try.

#mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader

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taboo-delusion · 1 month

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So, I just discovered something interesting.

This is a bit of a long one, so bear with me. It's important. Seriously.

I just woke up a few hours ago. My meds are starting to kick in. I was having a very serious and genuine, deep conversation (in-head) and it was... beautiful. It wasn't happy, but it was beautiful. Not the point.

Point is:

I had not had a single fucking intrusive thought today until someone made a noise in the other room.

I am so fucking PISSED OFF

Why my brain refuses to realize that intrusive thoughts CAUSED the good feeling to go away, I have no fucking idea. I've known that for almost a year now, yet my stupid fucking subconscious refuses to change anything it's doing

Before I snap my fucking android phone in half and yeet somebody's face into neptune, I thought I'd share the discovery!!!!

Basically:

MY INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS DID NOT START UNTIL SOMETHING STARTLED ME OUT OF FOCUS

AS I TYPE THIS, I REALIZE THAT INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS -AT LEAST FOR ADHDERS- ARE A SURVIVAL TACTIC.

Elaborating:

When you fall asleep and your heart slows too much, your body does the falling thing to make sure you're still alive.

It's not that intrusive thoughts are *Just* because your brain gets too quiet, It's because your life has never been completely quite before, or -like me- the few times it is quiet, something interrupts. And even if it doesn't piss you off, even if you don't jump like I do, your brain still registers it as not safe.

Falling asleep, heart slows a lot-

Body: *Sends adrenaline just to make sure it still actually works.*

Drowning, even mostly unconscious-

Body and brain: *Hold onto that last half-breath even if it feels like you're head is going to explode.*

Going grocery shopping or talking to someone you think is cool-

Brain: *Remembers what it felt like the first time your guardian was indifferent or mean about something that made you happy or calm.*

Things around you actually get quiet-

Brain *Sends a thought you hate just to make sure you're prepared for a sudden problem.*

TDLR 1: Your brain isn't mean on purpose, It's just paranoid and still has a will to live.

Listen. I know I'm just some random dude from a weird blog. But I'm trying to translate, to assist. Maybe somebody else needs this realization as much as I do. I apologize for the yelling earlier. I'm still just as upset, but only at my dumbass subconscious. Now some time has passed, and I have regained self-control.

(I also apologize for the above paragraph, my brain nags for me to do this, but I can't remember why. So:)

I am no psychologist. Here are my qualifications (why you should listen to me):

As my friends call it- "Disturbingly self-aware at all times."

Paranoid Schizophrenic with actual (unrelated) OCD, with years of experience dealing with it- more healthily in recent years.

Philosophy and deep thinking is simply my default. I use metaphors, but everything in this post is entirely literal, ...except the angry threat. (*begrudgingly accepts disappointment*)

I am a fiction writer. I don't know about healing people/first aid, but I know a LOT about how anatomy works, with many deep-dives on the psychology/evolution side.

People irl generally consider me a genius? Idk how to gauge that, IQ tests are irrelevant with this type of... smart?. I've been compared to both Da Vinci and Einstein. So, ...actually that's pretty fuckin' cool- (I AM NOT TRYING TO BRAG! I APOLOGIZE IF IT COMES OFF THAT WAY! I've never put it all down like this, and I'm just surprised and questioning my reputation.)

(Also, I love playing detective, so naturally I call myself Batman XD.)

Autistic; I experience the world, and every situation, from a view without any context.

ADHD: My brain automatically -As a guardian I hate describes- "Can watch three different movies at the same time, all in fast forward, and can keep up with all of them." ... Well, yes, but technically no. Idk if other ADHD people do this, but my brain "connects the dots" so quickly, I end up laughing at jokes I've never heard before the 'punchline', because I've already figured out what you're going to say next.

Now combine all that. I am kicking depression's ass and now I want to help you do the same.

I have only mentioned the relevant things. Please keep in mind that ALL of these have both advantages and disasters. Thank you for your patience and understanding. I am running on four hours of sleep. For the love of whatever, I hope this actually helps someone other than me.

Qualifications are noted because: This is all stuff (and stuff like this) that I am just always casually aware of.

TLDR2: Even if I wasn't trying to help people feel better, Apparently I was born with a nat 20 perception/insight check, so please don't argue that I truly understand what I'm talking about here.

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ikeuverse · 9 months

Text

FIGHTER — l.heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: very little angst, a bit of fluff at the end WC: 9.2k+

WARNINGS: mention of fighting, cuts, mention of being drunk, some swearing. let me know if i forgot anything else, please!

NOTES: listening bouncy by ateez made me have this idea. i changed the writing a few times and even wanted to continue after the end, but i thought i'd leave it that way to have, who knows, a part two? idk, you can tell me if you wish that. hope you like it!

masterlist

You could call yourself an adventurous person. Perhaps a complete explorer of the little and big things in life. Parachuting in, changing course from medical school – done for five long semesters – and running off to study social communication and be a respected copywriter in your field.

But even with a good profession, you never stopped exploring, being encouraged, and even accompanied by your couple of best friends, Sunghoon and Kasey.

You met the girl at the university of communication. Sharing a dormitory with a stranger back then would not make you imagine that today she would be your best friend and also your best friend's girlfriend. Introducing her to Sunghoon at one of your first frat parties was easy. Kasey was super communicative, while Sunghoon was shy. The contrast made the two hit it off right away and, after years, they were still together even though university was over.

Those nostalgic thoughts left you with a smile adorning your lips as you stepped out of the shower, looking at your reflection in the mirror and grimacing when you saw yourself with wet hair.

Friday night, end of work and you left early. Almost as if she knew what was coming, Kasey texted you as soon as you entered the house and threw your bag next to the couch.

We are going out today. Light clothes and a super different place, I think you'll like it.

You always enjoyed her crazy antics, that's why you two hit it off from the first minute inside that university room. She was just as adventurous as you and this could only be a work of fate, bringing two people together as best friends to explore every crazy and interesting thing in this world.

That's why, without delay, you ripped off your clothes on the way to your bathroom and took a long shower. Washing your hair and taking a little longer with the liquid body soap just to feel a little more relaxed after work. Your night out with your friends was always a lively one, and since your chores had been heavy that Friday, only the hot water would be able to wash away – almost – everything bad before you put on a proper outfit and dried your hair.

As you rambled about your outfit after your hair was properly dried – your arms sore from trying so hard to give your strands a good attention – a sigh left your lips, before a thin scream echoed through your room. The sound of the phone startled you and quickly made you turn towards the bed.

The quick steps to grab the handset and answer it on the next ring.

"Hi, I'm listening" you smiled even though your best friend couldn't see.

"Did you dry your hair?" how Kasey could know you so well, you had no idea. Chuckling, you mumbled in agreement before she continued "Okay, fifteen minutes for an outfit. Sunghoon and I will pick you up."

She didn't even let you answer her, hanging up just as quickly as she called. Surprised at how little time you had, you ran to your closet to get something to wear. Smiling at your clothes thinking that at least you would have a ride home. Without spending on a car app and without worrying about some stranger bringing you home.

Taking one last look in the mirror after choosing your outfit, smiling satisfied at what you saw there, you left the room. Even more smiling after seeing that Kasey and Sunghoon were really punctual that day, texting you in fifteen minutes saying they were already waiting for you at the entrance of your building.

Locking your apartment and taking the elevator leisurely, you reached the first floor and waved to the old gentleman doorman who was always so smiley every day.

"Good evening, Miss y/n" he greeted you. You greeted him back, wishing the man a good night before heading out and locating your couple of friends' car.

Getting into the backseat, your hands touched Sunghoon and Kasey's shoulders respectively.

"So..." the guy who was driving gave you a sideways glance, smiling at you "Ready for tonight?"

"I don't know where you guys are taking me, but I think I'm ready" your answer made them both laugh, along with Kasey making sure you loved the place.

You couldn't deny a huge chill in your stomach, even though you knew neither of them would let you down with the surprise. Kasey was a great thinking mind, while Sunghoon executed the whole plan of the crazy outings you all had. That's how it worked. But this time, you being a mere guinea pig for the Friday night surprise made you even more excited. Because what were they up to, anyway? That they hadn't told you anything at all since you got a text a few hours ago?

Please let it be nice, you thought, clutching even tighter to the leather of your jacket and settling comfortably in the back seat of the car as Sunghoon began to drive away, guided by the lights of the night city.

The reddish lights of the poorly placed sign flashed right in front of you. You, clinging to Kasey's arm, stared at the place with a long sigh coming out of your lips. Sure, you'd watched boxing matches on television and even bought tickets to one on some vacation trip to the States. But it never, ever crossed your mind to be in a giant shed, people back and forth as the words slowly came out of Kasey's mouth.

"Can we call it an underground fight?" from the look Sunghoon gave her, that was the name of what was going on.

Maybe because of the lack of regulations and because none of the fighters were, in fact, professionals, they were just there for the money and the numerous bets that were going on. You recognized this by the stand that was set up right next to the small staircase where there was a makeshift grandstand. Men of all shapes and sizes bet on so many names that you could not identify anything that came out of their mouths. A few women who were there, with fewer clothes than you were wearing, waved and greeted you and Kasey even though they didn't know each other. Maybe a brief recognition that you were the only one there among so many men, besides the others in their bikini tops who were standing in the middle of the fighting ring just waiting for it all to start.

Sunghoon approached with a smile on his lips, both hands carrying glasses that surely contained some drink for you to savor while you were there.

"So, did you like it?" he asked after handing you a glass. It was so full that you decided to share it with Kasey, it was still too early to drink so much.

"It's different" you said, smiling as you drank some of the beer and handed it to your friend "Is that really not dangerous?"

"Look, y/n is scared?" Kasey joked before sipping on the same glass as you "But… I don't think so, do you, love?" she looked at Sunghoon.

For a few seconds, he decided to stay quiet, just looking around trying to find words that could comfort you or make you less tense. Because he knew that's exactly what was happening, just like it happened to Kasey when he told her.

"They're used to it, y/n. But inside there's everything they need in case they get hurt" Sunghoon pointed to the left corner, it looked like a dressing room of sorts and his smile widened when a tall man appeared in the doorway and waved at him, beckoning him in "Come, I want you to meet my friend."

"He's hot" Kasey whispered to you.

"I heard that!" Sunghoon shouted loud enough, making you both laugh as he intertwined his fingers with Kasey's, and she raised her other arm for you to hold fearing she'd lose you in the crowd.

Passing by the one you were referred to, it seemed to be a bit quieter there. The flow of people was much smaller compared to outside. The voices were loud and fast, but there was no danger of bumping into anyone and so you managed to get a little free from Kasey's arm to give her and Sunghoon more privacy as they walked a little further ahead.

Through the dark corridor you were now passing, your best friend stopped in front of the black door and gave a quick knock before entering, without waiting for a confirmation.

"I can't believe you came" the amused voice greeted him, and Sunghoon was soon laughing as he let go of Kasey's hand to enter first and hug the man.

Your friend looked at you and winked in your direction, maybe that boy was the handsome one she had told you about, but his face was still a mystery because the hug lasted so long. It looked like he and Sunghoon hadn't seen each other in years.

"Did you think I would lose your fight today?" shit, Sunghoon's friend is a fighter, you almost yelled at that. Sighing, soon Kasey's voice greeted him and she hugged him too. The man's laugh was as infectious as your best friend's who was laughing at some comment he had made before releasing Kasey from the hug.

And last but not least, you. Your gaze finally caught the really handsome guy in front of you. Was he hot? For God's sake, Kasey lied, he looked like a Greek God. Well-drawn lips, a pointed nose, and an extremely lined, pearly, beautiful smile. Those teeth could reflect all the light in the room if it wasn't for the lamp that illuminated all of you.

"Heeseung, this is y/n, my best friend" Sunghoon introduced you. You smiled at him the same way he smiled at you, nodding and walking the steps that separated the two of you to hold his hand "Y/n, this is Heeseung. My best friend and coworker."

Your brow furrowed briefly and it didn't go unnoticed by either of them, making Heeseung chuckle some more before letting go of your hand.

"This fighting thing is secondary" he explained afterward "Sunghoon is not part of it."

"Not directly" he held his friend by the shoulders before he pulled him away from you to sit him back down in his chair.

Surely Sunghoon would have to explain to you a bit more about that because it was quite confusing, and looking at Kasey, you realized that that information had also been told to her not too long ago. Judging by the way she was sitting on the small couch staring at the two men who were talking non-stop.

"So" Heeseung's voice cut off the moment you were about to start a conversation with Kasey, making you both look at him "Where's your boyfriend, y/n?"

Boyfriend? You frowned again, so confused by the sudden question coming from him. Your eyes searched for Sunghoon who let out a small sigh, nibbling his lip as if he already knew what was coming.

"I… I don't have a boyfriend" you smiled and this time your action didn't mirror Heeseung. There was a frown on his face and the countenance that was once so cheerful was now so closed and nervous.

You almost felt guilty for telling the truth, why was it so bad not having a boyfriend? Was it a sin for you to be single? Your mouth opened to say something, but he looked away from you before he even let you continue.

"What was our deal, bro?" Heeseung stared at Sunghoon, still frowning and even more serious, if that was possible.

"Relax, it's just a night of fun" he explained.

"No, it's not" Heeseung got up from his chair and walked towards you, stopping a considerable distance away from you from Kasey "You need to go home, y/n."

"What? Why?" as a reflex to his actions, you got up from the couch and stood in front of him, the same distance he was keeping from you.

"Hey Heeseung, it's okay. She'll be with me and Hoon…" Kasey smiled without showing her teeth, seeing that even that hadn't disarmed the boy.

Heeseung gave up trying to say anything and walked over to Sunghoon without saying a word. He looked at the door just as there was a knock and his name was called, indicating that the fight was about to begin.

"Don't do that anymore, that wasn't our deal" he touched Sunghoon's shoulder before grabbing the bandages and gloves he always wore. Taking one last look at you, Heeseung left the room and slammed the door as hard as he could.

"What the fuck was that?" Kasey sighed and you let out all the breath you didn't know you were holding until the moment.

Your eyes stung a little, but what was the reason you would cry anyway? Trying to take a deep breath and contain it, you looked at Sunghoon for some bigger explanation.

"Do you have anything to tell us?" his girlfriend insisted, knowing that you wouldn't say anything else for a good while while you were still recovering.

Sunghoon was quiet for a good few minutes, just the sound of people passing back and forth outside the room. Someone had come in to get something Heeseung had forgotten, and as soon as he left, something dawned on the boy who had stayed there with you two.

"Just… Give Heeseung a break, okay?" he tried to explain, giving a smile so loose that neither you nor Kasey seemed to believe it.

That wouldn't be much more than an answer, so you decided to accept it and get it over with. Hoping so hard to be able to go home because that place was already getting exhausting for you.

Unfortunately, or not, Heeseung was a very good fighter. If you told him that he would take it up as a real profession, it would not go unnoticed. Or if you hadn't heard it come out of his mouth that it was secondary, like a hobby, you would never believe it.

He had precise blows, a cheeky grin on his face every time he hit his opponent. When someone hit him, the most he would get from Heeseung was a bit of spitting on the ground and jeering, before he would practically finish off his opponent in minutes.

"Round three" the man shouted from the middle of the ring. Even though he didn't need to, Heeseung seemed to accept while the other fighter had also agreed.

Taking a seat on the bench in the corner of the ring, he listened intently to the instructions of an older, fat, sweaty man. The towel he carried on his shoulders was so dirty that you could hardly believe it when Heeseung accepted it to wipe his forehead. He needs to take a shower urgently, your mind screamed as soon as the boy returned the towel.

When they gave the signal for the fight to resume, a girl – typical of wrestling – walked by in extremely short clothes into the ring. Whistles and cheers were heard throughout the venue. You held back your laughter when you saw Kasey almost shoot Sunghoon with her eyes, him staring at her for the entire moment until the woman disappeared from his field of vision and left the venue to the fighters alone.

"Come on, Hee! You already won!" Sunghoon shouted to his friend, encouraging him as he always did.

When he stood up from his seat, Heeseung looked at Sunghoon and smiled broadly, or as much as his mouthguard let him do. But as soon as his eyes traveled down Sunghoon's side, stopping directly at you, his smile fell. It was as if there was something about Heeseung that he just couldn't look at you with a smile.

The boy decided to ignore that and turn his attention back to the fight, adjusting his gloves and focusing any and all attention on the man in front of him.

It wasn't that hard to know that, with a few more blows, Heeseung had been named the winner. Bettors celebrated the boy's victory, while others who had bet on the loser, lamented the money they would have to pay.

All for the sake of entertainment. All for the sake of the underground fight that Heeseung loved, because he knew that at the end of the night, the money he would win would be more than enough not to step foot in there for a few weeks.

"Let's go find him" Sunghoon whispered to Kasey, seeing that she stared in your direction with his words even if you weren't hearing very well because of the distance between the two "I promise Heeseung won't say anything to y/n now."

"If he does, he and y/n can discuss" Kasey whispered back, but she let her boyfriend lead the way as the three of you made your way back to the less crowded part of the shed.

Where you, strangely, felt it was best. Even if it meant being in the same room as Heeseung for a few minutes.

Like the first time you were there, Sunghoon entered first and as soon as you entered, the room was not silent. Three more people besides you, your friends, and Heeseung were there. All men excitedly handed several wadded-up notes of money to the newly crowned champion of the fight. Heeseung was sweaty and panting, but he had such a bright smile on his face that you held back the urge to make a vomiting noise when you remembered that he had smiled like that before he was a complete asshole to you.

"Tonight was awesome, man" the gray-haired boy ruffled Heeseung's hair, taking a few steps away and stuffing the money bills into a plastic bag "When are you coming back to fight?"

Heeseung sighed loudly, taking the bag and putting it inside a bag that was probably his.

"Maybe in two weeks, or three" he closed the bag "With this amount I can go almost a month without showing up here."

"Really, tonight was the highest of the month" another man celebrated "You deserve it, man. I think it's good to get some rest too, you've worked hard."

"Thank you" Heeseung thanked and greeted the men before they left.

When he heard Sunghoon's voice congratulating him, he was still smiling, even looking through the reflection of the small mirror in front of him and looking straight at you. Replying to Sunghoon that he could have a few weekends like a normal person, without fighting or having cuts all over his face, Heeseung's gaze had never left you at any point.

And the strangest thing was that you couldn't stop looking at him either. It was as if you tried to look away, but half a second later and your eyes would go back to his reflection.

"And you're still here?" he finally turned around, finishing what he was doing and looking at you properly now.

You noticed the movement of Sunghoon and Kasey as if they had foreseen what was coming.

"Should I have left?" your tone of voice was the same as his, only a little lower for the distance you were standing. Heeseung snorted.

"Should have" how audacious, you wanted to mentally curse him for that "This place isn't for you."

"Of course. You should know a good place for me since you don't even know me."

"I know enough to know it was a mistake for Sunghoon to bring you here."

That hurt. In such a ridiculous way because Heeseung was a stranger to you, so why had his words hit you hard? Why, again, had your eyes started to sting and you were seeing everything in a blur?

"You're shit, Heeseung," your words came out so desperately that he didn't even care to hear them. It was as if the boy was used to being called that, but his Adam's apple shook hard at the way he swallowed dry. Why had he swallowed dry with you calling him that?

"Y/n…" Sunghoon called out to you, but not in time to get you trapped inside the room, because you had already left.

You could have also heard wrong, but Heeseung also called your name. Or was it your crazy head because your steps were so fast that you didn't want to go back?

Your gaze blurs more and more as you passed people, hearing shouts of another fight breaking out. You just wanted to leave.

Without difficulty finding the exit, you were already outside that shed breathing the cold air of the streets that embraced your body. And for some time afterwards, you let the tears fall on your cheeks.

"Y/n… Hey, sweet" you sniffled loudly at Kasey's voice right behind you, wiping your face ever so quickly. But to no avail, it was impossible to hide anything from your best friend.

She turned you around and hugged you slowly, stroking your hair and kissing your cheek.

"Let's go home, please?" you asked in a whisper, holding yourself back from crying again.

"Come on" she said "By the way, can I sleep in your apartment?"

"Why?"

She lifted her head to look at you, eyes reddened just like yours. Shit… Had she cried too?

"Sunghoon and I had a fight because…"

"Because of me?" a pout formed on your lips, you wanted to cry again because that had never happened before. And it was something you dreaded, having your best friends fight over you.

"Also, but—" she sighed, squeezing your cheeks and placing a kiss on your forehead before pulling away from you to hug you from the side "He and Heeseung have some deal that Sunghoon didn't tell me about. And if they treat my best friend like that, I'll fight."

You looked at her beside you, laying your head on her shoulder as she laid her head on yours. Both of you in that position for so long that you had lost count of how many people had passed by or how many people had left disappointed at losing a fight.

"Let's go home. There's a lot of goodies we need to eat in my closet" you broke the silence, hearing her giggle right after.

You sighed wistfully as Kasey walked through your apartment door holding another bouquet in her hand.

"From Sunghoon again?" you held back a laugh as she agreed, kicking off her shoes to head to the kitchen.

Unhurriedly, your steps followed your best friend as you watched her search for a pot big enough to fit the new plants she received.

"With another regret card, this time I almost gave in" she pouted as she placed the flowers into the water, setting the makeshift pot on the kitchen counter.

Almost two weeks she decided to stay with you in your apartment until she forgave her boyfriend for feeling bad about the last fight. You asked her to stay as long as she needed, perhaps feeling less guilty for still thinking it was all because of you.

"Why don't you talk to him? I think Sunghoon already got what he deserved."

"I'm still upset about the last time we talked, he wouldn't tell me and even allowed Heeseung to talk to you like that" she pulled you into the living room without much difficulty, you wanted to go back there anyway and continue your cooking program before taking a long shower to make dinner.

Taking a seat on the couch, Kasey joined you in watching the show as she laid her head on your lap. You decided to end it there, after all, it was between the two of you and you had tried everything to get them talking again in that time. Even though you didn't respond so well to Sunghoon's messages, because you were upset with him too. But you wanted the good of your two best friends, so giving in was a good thing.

What if I text him now? You thought. After a few hours of watching television, Kasey had taken a short nap on your lap. Breathing quietly with his hand still petting her hair.

With your free hand, you reached out far enough to reach your cell phone and go to Sunghoon's chat. But before you could type anything, your best friend's number was calling you.

Was it a sign, perhaps? He wanted to talk too and that could be good. Or not. You didn't know it, but you answered quickly hearing the noise on the other end of the phone.

"Sunghoon?" you asked as soon as you got no answer, not even a hello from the other end.

"Oh, she answered… Y/n? It's Jake."

"Jake!" you smiled into the handset even though no one could see it, not even Kasey who was still sleeping on your lap "What's that noise?"

"We came to a bar after work" you heard him gasp as he walked to a less noisy place. Maybe he was heading outside the establishment "But some things… Well… Didn't work out so well."

You could swear he was smiling shyly now as if he had done something wrong. Your mind wandered to the first time you met him when Sunghoon introduced his coworkers. Jake was so energetic and funny, and he gave such a shy smile when he broke one of the cups at Jay's house. Maybe it was that smile he was giving now.

"Tell me what happened, please…" you stirred a little, praying that your friend wouldn't wake up. And it had worked. You managed to get up from the couch and walk to the kitchen.

"Jake? What are you doing, man? Give me my cell phone back!" it was Sunghoon, and judging by his slurred voice, the boy was drunk.

"Be quiet and go with Sunoo, he needs to clean that cut."

"Cut?" for a second your voice came out so loud that, with Kasey's words on the couch, now your best friend was awake and Jake was regretting having scared you that much.

"Okay, okay. Sorry y/n. Can you… Can you…"

"Y/n? Did you call her?" Sunghoon picked up the phone under Jake's protests, taking the lead to talk to you "I know you're mad at me and Heeseung and we don't blame you" why is he talking about Heeseung out of nowhere? You hadn't even mentioned his name "But please don't kill us today."

"Kill you? What happened?"

"I guess being away from Kasey made me mad" he huffed, you thought that probably at that moment Sunghoon was playing with his own feet for being embarrassed about what he was going to say next "They bumped into me, I got into a fight and… Well…"

He went quiet and so did Jake. For a moment you pulled your cell phone away from your face to see if the call was still going on.

"Sunghoon?"

"Come pick us up, please?" he asked in a whispery tone, almost afraid someone would hear him.

"Okay, give me the address, we'll be there in a few minutes" your gaze quickly traveled to Kasey's drowsy figure, which was slowly waking up at the sight of her face.

She knew something was up, and you took a deep breath as Sunghoon passed you the phone so Jake could give you the address.

You knew where it was, so it would be easier to locate as you hung up the phone.

"Did something happen?" Kasey yawned.

"We need to go out and get the boys, I need you to come with me" you were so quick to deflect her questions, after all, you didn't have much time and she could see for herself. You didn't know much either.

Other than enough said by Jake and the mumblings of a drunk Sunghoon. You just mentally prayed that nothing that serious had happened, even if your trembling hands on the steering wheel of the car told you otherwise.

The nightclub was full and you didn't feel intimidated by the stares, because all the women were very well dressed and you were… in a sweatshirt. There was no time to change and even Kasey couldn't get out of her work clothes, because as soon as you said Sunghoon and cut in the same sentence, she just put on her shoes and ran with you wherever you went.

Disengaging from some people, apologizing to others for rushing through and getting to the other side of the club, you and your best friend finally reached the bar. The meeting point where Jake had texted you, and luckily, he had just arrived too.

"Thank God!" his sigh of relief was mirrored by the two of you, quickly hugging you on either side "Sunoo and I were the only ones in favor of calling you two" he looked at you and then at Kasey, smiling sincerely at the presence of the two of you there.

While he kept up a casual conversation, trying to distract them until they got to the back of the club, they both answered everything without much excitement, not least because the focus was on finding the boys who – possibly – were hurt. Sunghoon had a cut somewhere, that was the only information they had.

"The security guard let us stay here until you two arrived" Jake stopped in front of the door, it looked like a private room.

"Was it that bad?" Kasey tried not to look so desperate when Jake didn't answer with words, he just shrugged and sighed before walking in, being followed by her and then you.

The room was well lit and the table had only bottles of water on it, which made you feel more relieved. No alcohol, they had taken a break to recover.

Your gaze wandered around the people, stopping on Sunoo who was trying, uselessly, to make Sunghoon sit still while he cleaned the famous cut. It was on his lower lip and that could only have been caused by someone.

"Who did you fight with, Park Sunghoon?" your friend's voice caught the attention of all of them inside that room. So far no one had noticed the presence of the newcomers.

Sunghoon almost fell when he got up from the sofa if it wasn't for Sunoo who held him as soon as it happened.

"Kasey? Baby" he pouted, almost crying with the pain it caused him that his lip was bruised. Sunoo let go of him as her best friend reached for him, feeling his arms wrap around her.

"What happened?" he smothered her in a tight hug, saying anything you could at least hear. Paying attention to the two of them was funny, because in years of relationship, maybe that had been the most serious fight you've witnessed from them.

And it was weird, you couldn't deny it.

Your eyes went to Sunoo, smiling in appreciation for taking care of Sunghoon so well. Or at least trying to. And quickly a gaze ran to the other side of the room, stopping immediately on Heeseung.

He also seemed to have a cut, but he was located on his eyebrow. He had never looked away from you since you had entered that room, and judging by the way Jake put his hands on your back, pushing you towards him, it was your turn to go talk to the boy.

"Not me."

There was no denying that Jake was stronger, and this battle for breaking free from his hands to Heeseung would be a defeat. So you just accepted it and stopped in front of the boy.

"I'll help Sunoo and tell the security guard we can go now" Jake whispered to you, looking at Heeseung and flashing a smile "Behave yourself and be civilized this time."

"Okay, daddy Jake."

"Ew, gross. Don't call me that!" Jake flicked his middle finger at Heeseung and left, walking with Sunoo out of the room and leaving just the four of you there.

You wanted some sign of Kasey and Sunghoon, but their conversation seemed far more interesting than looking in your direction and answering the thousands of questions forming in your mind. Like, for example, why were you here with Heeseung? Sunoo could have looked after him or the boys could have told you what to say to the security guard and you would have gone there. Not standing there to look after someone who had been ridiculous to you.

"I think I can hear your neurons frying from here" Heeseung's voice invaded your ears and you sighed loudly, but not loud enough for him to hear since the music from the whole club was still invading every corner of the place. You turned towards him and tried not to express any reaction to that.

In vain. When he quickly grabbed your hands and forced his weight to stand up, getting only a few centimeters away from your body.

"Sorry, when I get drunk I can't… I…" his gaze was restless, paying attention to every little detail of your face. Whether it was your wide eyes and curiosity about his next move, or even your ajar, reddened lips that Heeseung swore he didn't want to see so closely or he might lose control.

"Heeseung, Sunghoon" Sunoo called out to his friends at the same moment Heeseung shook his hand. You let all the air out of your lungs when everyone inside that room paid attention to the newly arrived boy "Let's go out, I think y/n parked the car near ours. It won't be a problem for us to leave."

You all agreed and Sunoo guided Kasey, who had Sunghoon's arms around his body so he wouldn't stagger as he left. You wished you didn't have to think about it, but it was impossible at the same moment as Heeseung's hands gripped your shoulders.

"Can I hold on to you? I don't want to fall halfway," his voice whispered between your hair, close to your ear. And that damn shiver went through your whole body.

If he wasn't drunk, you could have sworn it was some kind of tease on his part. But without much thought one of your hands went to meet his on your shoulder, intertwining your fingers a little too tightly to hold him back.

"Be careful, Heeseung" you said, not knowing if he heard or not. You just wanted to get out of there and you did.

Walking out of the club with Sunoo in front to guide the way while Jake helped Kasey and Sunghoon.

Without much delay you reached the outside, you had indeed parked your car near the boys' car. Strategically or not, maybe out of sheer desperation to just get there and find them, but at least it had worked out.

"Okay, someone needs to take Heeseung's car. He won't drive like this" Sunoo held up the keys between his fingers.

"Hey, there's my keys" he grumbled, dropping your shoulders to stagger over to Sunoo. Unsuccessful in picking up his car keys, he was without a shred of reflex due to his drinking.

"And I came with him" Sunghoon whined softly, laying his head on Kasey's shoulder for a few seconds, but quickly getting up "I had an idea!"

"Oh shit, should we worry?" Jake asked amused, eliciting a small laugh from the group for the first time all night.

Sunghoon decided to ignore the joke made to him, looking at each of the people there until his eyes stopped on Heeseung.

"You knew that y/n did a few semesters of medicine, right?" you frowned at that question, after all, how relevant could it be since it had nothing to do with the subject.

"Yeah, we talked about it that day" Heeseung agreed.

"What? Did you talk about me?" you almost shouted, startling the two drunken chatters. Jake and Sunoo decided to turn their attention to their cell phones, talking to their girlfriends to give them the news that everything was okay later in the evening. Meanwhile, Sunghoon and Heeseung ignored – or tried to ignore – their questions and focused on the small talk they were having.

"She can take care of your cuts and take you home."

If your life were a cartoon, your eyes would pop out of their orbs the moment you rolled them. How could Sunghoon think such a thing? And how Jake was laughing at that situation so unpretentiously while you denied it with several nods.

"Sunghoon, what are you doing?" Kasey asked in a whisper.

"Helping my friend, I want to make amends with both of them" but his answer had been loud enough, and your eyes remained wide.

Jake, realizing that nothing would come out of his mouth and that Heeseung would not answer anything either, decided to intervene.

"Y/n, I think Sunghoon meant that you can take good care of Heeseung's cuts" he said low, just for you to hear since Sunoo, at that moment, was talking to Heeseung. Gave some guidance because he couldn't drive in that state "He cares the least about it and we're afraid it might get infected."

"I don't— Jake!" you whined.

"It's all right. Anything you can call me, you know" he touched your shoulder with him in a subtle motion "I live two streets away from Heeseung's apartment. If he's an asshole, you can yell."

It was just saying no. Just deny it and say that someone else could take such good care of his cuts other than you, not least because your medical school had been a long time coming. But of course, that first aid part hadn't been forgotten by you.

Shit, shit, shit. Why was no denial of any kind going on in your mind? Why were you walking towards Sunoo and reaching out to take the keys to Heeseung's car? Why were you handing your car keys to Kasey?

"Take care of my baby, please" you said to your best friend as the metal of the keys slipped out of your fingers and into hers.

"I will" she smiled, feeling Sunghoon's arms go away from her body so he could walk over to you and hug you.

"You're the best friend in the whole universe, I swear" Sunghoon whispered as he hugged you tightly. You, returning the hug, smiled as he kissed the top of your head before slowly pulling away "Take care of him for me because I know he'll take care of you."

"Okay, mister drunk" your smile made him smile too, and meanwhile, you clutched Heeseung's keys between your fingers and turned to him.

Without saying a single word, the boy pointed to the dark car in the row of a few cars a little further away. Then it was just a matter of saying goodbye to your friends and getting out. And so you did.

Greeting one by one until there was no one left, you let Heeseung lead the way, hoping he wouldn't trip or hurt himself on the way to the car. Safe and sound, he leaned against the passenger door and smiled without showing his teeth, indicating that it was that vehicle that would take you both away.

You unlocked it, got in, and were followed by him until you both closed the door for good.

"I need your address now" you said.

He just agreed, saying he would drive you to his apartment. As you started the car, your attention was always on the road, afraid to look away from him. But that didn't stop Heeseung from looking at you.

And he knows he did it all the way to his apartment. Without regretting it for a second.

Heeseung let you rummage through the bathroom cabinet when you said the first aid kit was in there. Complying with your requests, he walked to the kitchen and drank at least two full glasses of water in an attempt to relieve the drunkenness – which had been leaving his body since the moment he got into the car with you. This time, pulling up a chair to sit near the table, the young man waited patiently until you returned. Or he thought he was patient, faltering the second you walked through the kitchen door.

Under the bright light of the kitchen Heeseung could swear that your skin glowed something completely different than he had ever seen in his entire life. Your face was so focused on the small briefcase and some tape in your other hand, that he sighed when he saw a small pout forming on your lips.

"I already washed my hands, okay?" your voice was low due to your proximity to him, placing the case on the table behind Heeseung. He straightened up in the chair and, as if by automatic, his legs opened for you to fit your body in there.

Your gaze fell on Heeseung's legs, hesitating whether or not to stay there, but it was the only way. The only right way to be so close so you could clean that cut with the almost dried blood.

Tidying his hair so that no strands remained in front of his face, he slowly slid between his legs to stand there, a few centimeters from Heeseung's body that was sitting almost static in front of you. He closed his eyes as soon as he saw you pick up the cotton and pour something in, feeling the icy material against his skin.

"What…"

"I'm cleaning it" you kept talking quietly, sometimes making your breath hitch against his skin "You were sweaty and it was open for a long time, we don't know what's in there."

He murmured in agreement, continuing to keep his eyes closed and not catching any moment of your care. Only occasionally feeling your fingers against his hair to push it away from his face. Or when the absorbent cotton slipped out of your hands, or even when you wiped away some of the contents you had used to clean up and it was dripping, almost going onto his cheek.

"Heeseung?" you called him after a few minutes.

"Yeah…" he opened his eyes, meeting yours that was already looking at him in anticipation. A small smile formed on his lips and Heeseung didn't know why he smiled back at that.

"This might sting a bit" he rolled his eyes down his hands, seeing a small bottle there. Surely he had bought it at the insistence of his coworkers, after all, Heeseung had no idea how to heal a wound. In all of his – occasioned by fighting – Heeseung always had someone in the ring who did it for him, so worrying about taking care of it wasn't his area.

"You know y/n, you don't have to—"

"I do, you won't get it without some medicine" your scolding made him go quiet, realizing that had shut Heeseung up, so you continued "You can squeeze me or ask me to stop if it stings unbearably, okay?"

Without a single word, he just agreed, thinking it was a complete exaggeration. Especially since he fought practically all the time, he had already been beaten up a lot and had many cuts on his face, why would it burn so much that he would do those things?

"Fuck" Heeseung almost screamed when he felt his skin burn and the pressure of your fingers with the cotton from the cut.

In the same second, he grabbed your waist, his strong hands squeezing your shirt and consequently pulling your body closer to him. It made you completely hug Heeseung. And he didn't seem to notice, not even for a moment as he still held himself tightly against you.

Your breathing faltered for a few seconds, the closeness to him making you inhale the scent he had. The musk of his fragrance entered your nostrils as you closed your eyes momentarily and opened them, focusing on the care while Heeseung still kept his hands on your waist.

"It's okay, you can let me go now" you whispered as you took the cotton with the medicine, discarding it just like the other materials you used to clean his wound.

"Shit, I'm sorry" realizing what he had done as soon as he opened his eyes, Heeseung released his hands from your waist, remaining seated.

You didn't say anything else as you put away every single thing you used, throwing what you needed in the trash and going back to grab your kit bag. Your walk back to the bathroom was longer because your steps seemed slower and your thoughts traveled to Heeseung's fingers against your body. As he walked out of the kitchen in the same slow steps, processing what had just happened.

It wouldn't be a big deal that touches because he actually felt pain and your body was the only tangible thing in front of him. But why did Heeseung's fingers tingle? Why did he want more of that contact?

"Okay, your stuff is already put away" your voice snapped him out of his reveries, making the boy stare at you a little dazed by the whole situation.

"Thank you" he tried to smile knowing that it had looked more like a grimace because you laughed softly as you searched for the things that you had left on the couch "Hey, where are you going?"

"Home…?" your lips pressed together, preventing any expression from being used as you held up your cell phone and the cold sweater you had put there when you arrived.

"No, you can stay."

"Heeseung, I—"

"Seriously y/n, I insist" he interrupted you, swallowing dryly when he saw a glimpse of hesitation in you, almost dropping your phone in it's place "It's the least I can do after you took care of it" he pointed to the cut that no longer bled "And you can rest assured, I like sleeping on my couch."

"No… Not really" you tried to protest.

"I'll be right back" with an overwhelming stubbornness, Heeseung disappeared down the hallway of the apartment, making you snort and not giving you a chance to answer anything.

He didn't take long, but it felt like an eternity to you when he came back with some blankets and pillows in his arms, throwing everything on one of the armchairs.

"I'm not very tidy with things, but I promise my bed is a clean and safe place" he smiled, running one of his hands over the back of his neck quickly. Heeseung was at a loss and didn't know how to act from then on "You can sleep there tonight, I'll take you home as soon as we wake up."

You had nothing else to say but accept the offer. Leaving at that hour from Heeseung's apartment wasn't a smart thing to do, taking an app car wasn't very safe either. And Jake had probably already gone to sleep, you didn't want to bother him, even if the boy lived a few minutes away.

"Thanks, Heeseung" was the only thing you managed to say before approaching him and touching both of his hands. Slowly brushing your thumb across the back of his hand, an intimate and quick act, before letting go of his hand and smiling once more. You said your goodbyes and headed down the hallway to the bedrooms, running into his room as your cheeks began to heat up.

Meanwhile, slumped on the huge sofa, Heeseung felt a tingle in his hand again. But this time, a huge smile was on his lips, and now he could tell why this time.

You didn't know you would miss waking up to the smell of Heeseung. Even though it had only been a few days since you had slept over at his place, with him dropping you off at your apartment door, it was getting more and more confusing. Why couldn't you just stop thinking about him? After all, Heeseung had been a asshole, he'd only been nice out of courtesy and because you'd taken care of his cut, nothing could be fairer.

But no. He had a way of ruining all the thoughts and strategies you yourself had devised to ward off anything related to him.

Hearing the doorbell ring relentlessly, you huffed and walked lazily to the door, balancing your coffee mug as you let your hair down from the grueling day you had at work.

"I hope you haven't forgotten anything here at all, Kasey."

"Maybe Sunghoon can get it for her later" Heeseung's voice almost made you knock over all the coffee you were drinking. Your eyes widened at the sudden appearance and the words had simply vanished from your mind, as if you had unlearned how to speak.

"What… What are you doing here?" shit, you wanted to scream, why were you stuttering in front of him?

"Can I come in?"

No.

"Yes, come in" you said, completely betraying your brain from barring you while there was time.

After entering your apartment, Heeseung walked shyly to the center of your living room with you trailing behind, admiring every detail in it.

"Sorry to come unannounced, but…" he stopped looking at your wall decorations, turning around and facing you "Sunghoon said it was either this, or you wouldn't answer any of my messages."

"Why?" you asked.

"Because maybe he let it slip that you've already called me every possible name" he shrugged, not seeming the least bit affected by it. You could feel your cheeks burning, and from the embarrassed look on your face, Heeseung managed to smile.

"Well… I had reasons" your coffee mug rested on the coffee table as you approached him, crossing your arms in front of your chest as Heeseung held out his hands. A bag dangled from your fingers and you glanced at it quickly, letting out a laugh afterward.

"Accept my apology, please" you took the package and then bluntly took it from there.

The bottle of wine looked expensive enough that you never thought of buying it. It was the kind of gift that only your best friends would give because it never seemed to cross your mind to spend something like that.

"Heeseung" his name came out of your lips like a little melody, and he loved it.

"I didn't know if you liked flowers or chocolates" he whispered "But Sunghoon always comments on how you and Kasey go out drinking, I just figured."

"Thank you" that had been so cute that the pout on your lips made him sigh, and he didn't care that you had heard.

"It was for fight day, actually."

"What?"

He was quiet for the briefest of seconds, waiting for you to put the bottle of wine away somewhere appropriate that you could use later or whenever you pleased. As soon as you approached him again, Heeseung nibbled on his bottom lip as he rambled on about how to tell you about it.

"Ever since I started this thing, me and the boys have had an agreement" the agreement that neither you nor Kasey knew about, so you just nodded because he had to keep talking. And because you were too curious to say anything "We don't take any kind of unaccompanied girl to the fight."

"Why?" Heeseung pondered whether or not to continue, but he had already gotten that far. If he turned back, you'd surely get even angrier and never see him in front of you again.

"I've been around this shit long enough to see what the guys are capable of over there, y/n" he had a serious tone, but he didn't sound angry at all. Just emphasizing that the subject wasn't any kind of joke "I've lost count of how many times I've heard absurdities from the guys there and what they did with any girl who stepped in that place" he made a disgusted face, recalling facts and even stories that the men told.

It was stomach-churning and Heeseung would spare you any details, telling you only what was necessary to get the matter over with.

"So I made a deal with them about it, that they could only take some girl if she was accompanied" finally, Heeseung didn't know he had gotten so close to you while telling that story. Looking into your eyes when he was finally a few centimeters away from you.

"That's why you asked if I had a boyfriend?" your voice almost faltered from lack of use, watching him slowly agree.

"I was so mad at Sunghoon for breaking our agreement that I ended up taking it out on you, so for that I'm sorry" Heeseung's hand touched your arm, causing you to undo their crisscross so he could hold your hand and intertwine your fingers in his.

"It's okay, you had a good reason. You could have just said it instead of being an asshole to me."

"I know that, that's why I want to make amends" Heeseung slowly squeezed your fingers in his, staring at their joined hands as he looked back up at your face.

"How?"

"By inviting you to my next fight this weekend" he smiled when he saw your face contort in confusion.

Why would Heeseung call you to the place where he said all sorts of things happened and, on top of that, have the first fight that made you hate him – not at the moment – but you didn't want to admit it.

"For you to fight me again for being alone there?" your question made him laugh, Heeseung knew he wouldn't get a different answer than that. And he expected it, so his next move had been almost calculated.

Closing the small distance between you two, he let you feel the small pressure of his body against yours. One of his hands ran down to your waist, the first place he touched you.

"No" Heeseung's voice was so low it was only audible because of proximity as he lowered his neck enough to let his face close to yours "Because you'll be with me."

"But you're going to fight" you said as the tip of his nose touched yours, a small sigh leaving your lips at the contact.

"Exactly" he whispered "I'll be watching you the whole time" Heeseung squeezed your waist, still whispering every word as he brushed his lips against yours "And it was nice to have your eyes on me while I was in the ring, you know?"

"Really?" you remembered the small exchange of glances between the two of you when it all went down, thankful that now you both had your eyes closed so he wouldn't notice the blush on your cheeks.

"Really, because it motivated me in a way."

"How?"

"On the one hand I was mad that you didn't have a boyfriend and were alone there" Heeseung touched his lips to yours, the softness almost making you cry out. He chuckled softly, the vibration going straight to his mouth because of how close the two of you were "On the other hand I felt relieved, so I have an excuse to call you to my fights."

"I guess I can accept that."

He wasn't sure if the answer was from your sentence or the way his lips were still lingering on yours. Heeseung was going to take that as an answer to both thoughts, getting carried away with the fact that now you would go with him to the fights and finally get to taste your lips on his.

#heeseung angst #enhanet #hyfenet #heeseung fluff #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung angst #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen masterlist #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen heeseung #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

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daredvssy · 1 year

Text

Stress

I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish this tonight, but by some unknown power, I managed to complete it. I hope you all enjoy this silly little bit of smut I wrote instead of travelling to campus today!

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here! :)

Ship: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 2050

Warnings: smut, male receiving oral sex, face-fucking, praise, thigh riding. Idk what to tell you it's all incredibly self-indulgent.

You found Copia in his office, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. You gently rapped on the doorframe to alert him to your presence. The soft noise drew his attention, and he sat up promptly in an attempt to regain the dignified demeanor he felt he should possess as Papa.

When he realized you had been the source of the knocking, he relaxed somewhat, a soft, weary smile gracing his features.

"Hello mi amore," he greeted you. "Please, come in." You made your way over to his desk, quietly closing the door to his office behind you. He leaned back in his plush office chair and opened his arms to you, a wordless invitation to sit in his lap that you accepted immediately. His arms enveloped you in a warm embrace, holding you in your place on his lap. You placed a quick kiss on his jaw. This earned another smile from Copia, although it was not enough to disguise his complete and utter exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you asked him, concerned. "You seem very tired."

He sighed deeply, his brow creasing as he gave up trying to conceal what was already so obvious to you: he was worn out.

"I am tired," he agreed. "My work seems to be neverending recently. My predecessors never made it seem like being Papa was so much work!"

"Maybe it wasn't," you mused aloud, reflecting on the habits of the first three Papa's. "They all put in the necessary work as Papa, and I know they were certainly all known to spend a lot of time partying, but the band has never been so popular as it is now. The Ghost Project has never been more successful than it is under you my love, it's only natural that the workload would increase."

He nodded in consideration; you raised a point that was pretty difficult to ignore.

"I suppose this is true," he agreed, "And I am very grateful. But it is getting to the point where I can hardly manage it on my own. Nearly all of my waking hours are consumed by my work. I haven't even been able to eat with you once this week! Cara mia I feel as though I have hardly seen you at all!" He complained, practically pouting.

You leaned up to place a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling softly.

"While admittedly, I miss you too, I fully understand. You worked so hard to become Papa, I know how important it is to you," you said.

“Cuore mia you are important to me too,” he argued. “My work is not more important to me than you are.”

“I know, Copia,” you acknowledged, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. “But I don’t resent that you’re busy. I know that people are depending on you."

“I still wish I could spend more time with you,” he grumbled.

“I know. But we’re spending time together now, right?” you reasoned. “And if you'd like, I can bring dinner here tonight, and eat with you while you work?"

Your offer drew another smile out of Copia, slightly bigger this time.

"I'd like that very much, amore," he said. "But still, I wish I could give you my full attention, like you deserve. I regret that you will have to settle for sharing my attention with my work."

"I'm sorry that you're so tired and stressed, Copia. I wish there was something I could do to help," you lamented, nodding pensively.

"Just you being here helps more than you know," he told you earnestly, his mismatched eyes meeting your own. "It's nice to be able to feel you like this. I feel like it has been so long since I've been able to touch you."

His voice betrayed a thinly veiled longing, a hunger even. Truthfully, it had been some time since the last time the two of you had been together in any way that could be considered sexual or intimate. He often spent his whole day working, with you only seeing him briefly each night as he returned to his quarters, crawling into bed beside you and passing out quickly. It was unusual for the two of you, to say the least. This planted the beginnings of an idea in your head. You may not be able to lighten his workload, but maybe there was something you could do to make him feel a little bit better, for now.

"You know… I have an idea that I think might just make you feel a little bit better, Papa," you told him. There was a playfulness to your tone, that when combined with the use of his title made him raise his eyebrows at you suspiciously.

"Oh yeah? And what's this idea?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes slightly. You could tell he had already an idea of the direction your thoughts were heading. Instead of answering him verbally, you decided to spring into action.

You quickly repositioned yourself in his lap, twisting in his loose hold until you were straddling him. Before he had the chance to even attempt to say anything, you captured his lips in a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair.

While your previous kiss had been soft and chaste, this one was nothing of the sort. This was a kiss full of heat, designed to stoke the fire that was always burning, just beneath the surface with him. Always quick to succumb to his own carnal desires, Copia melted into the kiss, a moan catching in the back of his throat as he accepted the desire you breathed into him where your mouths met.

When you eventually pulled away for some air, his chest was heaving, and his mismatched eyes bored into your own. The black paint on his lips had begun to smudge around the edges, only adding to his now disheveled appearance.

"Will you let me help you relax? Just for a little bit?" You asked him, sucking a mark onto his neck as you awaited his answer.

"I don't have much time," he began, and then interrupted himself with a moan as you laved your tongue over the mark you had just made, his hips bucking up into you. "But I suppose…” He trailed off. “I suppose I can make a little time for this. Yes," he decided.

A lascivious grin spread across your face.

"Good," you cooed, pressing a palm to his chest, wordlessly urging him to relax back into his seat. "You always work so hard, you're so good at what you do. You deserve to relax Papa, let me take care of you."

He watched you through heavily lidded eyes as you slid off his lap and onto the floor, gently urging his legs apart. His breath started to come in shallow puffs as you dragged your palm over his hardening bulge, pulling apart the laces of his pants with a practiced ease. You made to remove his pants, and he raised his hips a little to help you ease them down his hips enough to free his cock from its tight confinement. It was fully erect at this point, the tip a rosy shade of pink and beginning to leak a bit of precum.

You looked him directly in the eye as your tongue darted out quickly to lap it up. He let out a strangled noise at that, his gloved hand coming down to gently rest on the back of your head, gently threading his fingers through your hair.

You kissed and sucked a wet trail down his length, all the way to the base and then back up again, enjoying the needy little noises the action coaxed out of him. Then, after checking to make sure that his eyes were still on you, you slowly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Cazzo,” he gasped, taking in a shuddering breath. “Always so good to me,” he moaned as you took him even deeper into your mouth, moaning around him at the praise. You gradually worked your way up and down his cock, taking in more and more of his considerable length with each bob of your head.

You brought one hand up to gently caress his balls, and he bucked his hips up involuntarily at the extra stimulation. The shock of the motion gagged you a little, and he tried to pull you off of him, instantly apologetic.

Instead of letting him, you relaxed your throat and swallowed him down in his entirety. A high, desperate whine escaped him. You clenched your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the ache that was steadily growing between them.

You pulled off of him for a brief moment to take a deep breath. You spoke, your voice sounding ragged, desperate even.

“Use me, Papa,” you pleaded with him. Copia required no further invitation than this. With a deep groan, his grip on your hair tightened, and he began to thrust up into your mouth at a desperate pace. You moaned around him, letting him use you to chase the pleasure he so deserved.

As he continued to thrust into you, a litany of curses and praises flowed out of him.

“Such a good fucking girl, letting your Papa use you like this, so fucking perfect for me,” he moaned. You could tell Copia was getting close when the rhythm of his thrusts into your mouth started to become erratic. You hollowed your cheeks around him as he fucked your mouth, humming a little around his length. The vibrations from this alone were enough to throw him over the edge.

As the first spurt of his cum hit the back of your throat, he practically yelped. Resuming control of the situation, you took him in as deep as you could, moaning and swallowing around him as he rode out his very intense orgasm.

When he finally came down from his high, you pulled off of his length gingerly, bringing up a hand to wipe at your mouth. Your breath was coming in heavy pants as you stared up at him. His gloved hand came down to cup your jaw, and you leaned into the touch automatically.

"Come here, bella," he said, patting his thigh in invitation with his free hand. You didn't wait to be told twice, climbing back up into his lap as he guided you so you were straddling one of his thighs.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss, his hands coming down to your hips, sliding up under your skirt and encouraging you to grind down onto his thigh.

He broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to look at you. He continued to guide your hips in a steady rhythm, the worn fabric of his pants catching on your clit just right, sending lightning shocks of pleasure through your entire body. As worked up as you already were, it didn’t take much time at all before you could feel tension ramping up in your core. You buried your face in his neck, a high, pathetic noise escaping you as your legs began to shake.

"That's it, amore," he encouraged. "Cum for your Papa, just like that.” You were powerless to disobey his command. Your release washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and crying out as you twitched in his lap, your vision going blank with the intense pleasure. Copia held you through it, whispering praise into your ear as you came down from it, catching your breath.

When you met his eyes again, a warm and goofy smile was plastered on his face. He gazed back at you fondly.

“Thank you, cara mia. I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course you deserve me, Copia. I love you,” you stated plainly. “Anyways,” you asked, unable to help returning his smile. “Did it work? Are you feeling any better?”

“Oh, yes amore. I feel infinitely better than I did before,” he replied.

“Good,” you said, your smile growing even wider. “Now give me a minute to recover and I will go see about getting us that food. I don’t think my legs will work properly just yet.”

#ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa iv #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv smut #cardinal copia smut

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