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angelsworks · 3 months

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Goldilocks and the Four Bears

I haven’t written for the cod fandom yet so all the 141 might be terribly out of character. In fact I haven’t written for a while. I appreciate all the people that still read my work and continue to support me. I hope you’re all doing well :)

Poly!141 x reader

Masterlist -> Here (will be made later :))

Warnings: 18+, mature themes, descriptions of torture, injuries and mistreatment, etc

Summary: After escaping from your last mission that had gone terribly wrong, your stumble through the woods leads you to a log cabin.

It was snowing. Fucking snowing.

Any belief in a deity had been long since crushed after the last few months. Well you thought it had been months. Your captors (a small but deadly terrorist group) had failed to provide you with your own calendar and clock. Much like how they had failed to provide you with new clothes to replace your own, that had been ripped and torn and become tattered to the eye.

It was stolen clothes you now wore as you made your escape. Trudging slowly through the already six inch snow, your thoughts trailed to the fresh snow adding to the existing six inches. The size 12 pair of boots were rubbing at your heels with increasing vigour. Leading you to contemplate if bruised skin could blister or not. The guard you’d killed as part of your escape had been good for one thing. Or three things actually. The ill-fitting boots, a loose pair of combat trousers and long sleeved compression shirt.

As you made your way through the terrain you felt a cold chill steadily working it’s way up your trouser leg. Slowly, spreading across the flesh, affecting any skin that wasn’t in direct contact with the trouser material. It made you wish you’d waited for a guard more similar to your stature. While the compression shirt was better than nothing, it was still thin. The flimsy seeming material now doing little to ward off the cold.

Maybe the sudden awareness of the less than ideal weather conditions wasn’t down to your stolen clothes, but the sudden loss of adrenaline. How long had you been running now? Well trudging desperately through the snow, making your way further and further into the thick forrest and fauna.

It was hard to try and map where you’d been, what direction you’d walked in and where you’d come from. It was all white. Every tree looked the same. Every incline became and decline and you’d become disoriented.

Months of abuse, of torture, ofpain. All ignored for a few short hours as you willed your aching body forward. Through trees and snow and stone. Through anything that would put you at a greater distance from them, from Miasma.

They hadn’t transported you. At least you were mostly sure. When you blacked out, you woke in the same dingy cell, on the same dingy floor. Only covered in more bruises or cuts. So you hoped you were where this all started. In Slovenia.

You’d done solo missions before. It was easier that way. One man in, one man out. No one to turn on you or leak information. With Gunner in your ear, nothing ever went wrong. Until it did.

Your objective was to gather intel. To stay under the radar before formulating the next attack. While sneaking around you’d learned just how large their operation was. In turn you’d also learned just how large their base was.

The small outpost hid underground levels. That became clear after your covert operation was blown and you were dragged down to the very heart of the multi-storey building.

Each day (if that’s what you could call them) gave you no indication of the time of day or how much time had passed. They made sure of that. In fact it was the first time in months you’d seen the light of day.

The light that you noticed was now fading apparently, as you looked desperately up into the sky. Grey clouds had rolled in, covering the majority of the sky. The sun was still peaking out from the dense overcast that was rolling further forward. Soon the sky would be covered and the snow fall would quicken.

A few miles back you were struck that no one from Miasma had followed you. You’d expected armed guards to be shooting at you and angry dogs to be tearing at your ankles. Yet you’d had no chase.

Maybe they knew you would get nowhere in the climate. That you’d be weakened by the terrain and from the violence you’d endured. They were right of course. But you didn’t let it stop you.

Even now as you’d gone further, you still felt the burning desire to survive. Granted it dwindled under the ache of your body and the never ending valley of white before you. But you wanted to live. You wanted your revenge.

The final rays of the sun had been clouded and the snow started to pick up. At least your footprints would be covered under the fresh snow. Not that it mattered if all your footprints lead to was a frozen corpse.

Flexing your fingers, you found yourself wishing for gloves. Your toes were long past numb and every injury you’d endured felt like it was waking up. Old cuts that had turned to scars felt fresh, bruises that had yellowed felt like they’d returned to their starting purple colour. Your felt heavy. You felt dense. You felt tired.

Your desire to drive on had dwindled now. The once raging fire was now only a candle. A candle that was down to its wick. The wax around it long since melted and now it was to its edge. Trying to burn the glue that chained it in place. The image made you crave warmth even more.

Was this it?

All the work you’d put in over the years. From a child you had trained for a mission you didn’t fully understand. A mission that belonged to someone else, to Gunner. He’d turned you into a soldier, his perfect soldier.

Is this how his perfect soldier died?

No it wasn’t.

So despite your blue fingers, numb toes and foggy mind, you push on. Just a little further, you tell yourself. Past these trees, past this stream, past more trees.

Your doubts evaporate when you come upon a clearing. You find a decent space boarded by snow dusted trees from all sides. They stand tall, seemingly acting as natural walls to protect those inside. The grass is covered in undisturbed snow. It’s thick and white and makes you smile.

None of it matter though because sitting in the middle of it all if your salvation.

A log cabin.

You consider the sight to be a mirage. Created from and low blood sugar, dehydration and desperation. But you trudge on, almost to a stumble speed, as you reach for the door handle.

It’s unlocked.

Despite any moral compass telling you that breaking and entering or trespassing is wrong, you ignore it. You’re hurt, aching and this is a last resort.

You close the thick wooden door behind you. Taking note of the copious locks it has. When you move inside the cabin you find that no one’s home. As quietly as you can on stiff legs, you sneak around the house. Trying to wake up the instincts you’d been trained on.

Enter a room, check your surroundings, check again. Don’t assume anywhere is empty. Threats could be hiding around any corner.

So for each room of the ground floor you do just that. Open door, check the rooms, move on. From your searching you’ve found a large living room, a kitchen, a dining room, a toilet some sort of office/drawing room. The decor gives you no clue as to who’s house you’ve invaded. There are no pictures of people, no personal possessions. It feels surreal. And wrong.

To start with you go back to the living room. Using the large fireplace, stockpile of logs and matches, you start a fire.

Again, better sense would tell you to avoid such an action. To avoid alerting anyone of your presence here. But you decide to put sense aside in a bid for survival. If you didn’t get warm soon you were sure you’d be frozen soon.

Next you go to the kitchen. You rifle through the cupboard in an attempt to find something edible. To your surprise you find the place to be well stocked. Even going as far as having fresh milk in the fridge. The sight confuses you. Send alarm bells ringing in your ears.

There are products in the fridge that are in date. Fresh products. Yet no one is home. It doesn’t make sense.

As you empty a can of soup into a pan you realise, it doesn’t need to. You’re happy to play stupid and see this as all some sort of blessing, some miracle.

While the soup cooks you fill a glass with clean, cold water. Relishing in the taste of something fresh. When you’ve downed the first glass you refill it again. This time with an intention to make it last longer.

After the first spoonful you find that you like vegetable soup very much. Almost burning your mouth as you devour it in a few minutes. Immediately it feels as though you’ve been recharged. The warmth from the fire has spread throughout the ground floor, your fingers have warmed around the bowl of soup and your body no longer feels related to a glacier.

The sky only darkens as you sit by the fire. Basking in the warmth and taking a moment to rest for the first time in months. You don’t imagine ever leaving your spot on the floor. But the promise of a bed upstairs has you moving your legs in that direction.

Before your ascent to the second floor, you strip your clothes and hang them on a drying rack you found to the side of the fire. Now left in the nude.

Upstairs you find multiple bedrooms. All almost identical, except for one at the end of the hall. You assume this is the Cabin’s master bedroom as it’s slightly larger than the others. Inside there’s a wardrobe full of clothes, a full length mirror, a TV, some sort of game station, and of course the larger than most bed.

In the mirror you catch sight of yourself. The cuts of course stand out first. From the slight turn you can muster in your neck, you can see large welts and thin cuts, bruises and scrapes, all littering the previously plain skin. From the front and behind, your legs look like a Jackson Pollock original piece.

Capturing various purple and blues surrounded by smaller splodges of green and brown. With the occasional black blob or two to really contrast the overall tone of the piece.

As a child you had a strange infatuation with your bruises. Likening them to a sticker or badge of achievement. They were easy to come by during training. A strange part of you liked the way they looked on your skin. They acted as a log book of the hits you’d taken, the falls you’d taken, any sort of impacts you’d had. They made you feel strong, maybe even proud too.

Staring into the mirror at your body again, it all seems worthless. You knew you were strong before. You didn’t need months as a prisoner to prove it.

You take a few steps forward to properly look at your face. Who stares back must be a stranger. You haven’t let your eyebrows be this out of shape since you were thirteen. You didn’t have that scar above under your chin before. Your eyes were always so bright and vivid. Not lifeless or hollow or so lost.

With newfound energy you take yourself to the nearest bathroom. That just so happens to be the en-suite in the bedroom. It doesn’t surprise you. Nothing about this abandoned, well stocked cabin does anymore.

Instead you shower in one of the nicest bathrooms you’ve been to in a long time.

At first the water has you freezing. Not due to the temperature but because of the fire it lights on your back. Every scrape, every cut, every burn now being cleaned. The cleanse sets your body alight. In a way you feel the heat is helping you to heal. Granted, all you have to show for it is a mixture of blood and grime, floating slowly down the drain. But it’s more than that.

It’s the last few months being scrubbed off your skin. Your wounds and ailments being shown that this is the end. They can heal in peace. You can heal in peace.

So you take your time. Using any products you can find; shampoos, conditioners, body wash, face wash. You’ve acquired a new razor, fresh from the packet. It’s amazing what a difference shaving your legs and various other places can do to your mood. You’ve always preferred removing the body hair. Afterwards the feeling of smooth legs under a thick duvet made all the work worth it.

The final step, bar drying yourself, was brushing tour yellowing and plaque ridden teeth. The minty taste in your mouth feels unfamiliar but it welcomed nonetheless. Wiping your tongue across the now almost pearly-whites you’re happy with how smooth they feel.

Now showered, shaved and dried, you make you way into the bedroom. Finding the wardrobe and drawers to be filled wit strictly masculine clothes. You pick out a pair of boxers and one of the large white t-shirts to sleep in. The shirt dwarfs you in size, looking more like a dress. Not one that you would wear outside though. Not with the black boxers showering through the material, or your hardened nipples making an appearance.

With your towel back in the bathroom and the lights off, you crawl into bed. Letting out the loudest sigh your sore throat could muster. Then quickly falling asleep on the linen.

It was snowing. In fact it was a fucking blizzard.

A barrage of white, dagger-like snowflakes pelted against the four men. The lack of light and the dense haze of the storm made it impossible to see where they were going. They were all thankful for the less than modern compass. Hidden away at the bottom of Jonny’s bag. When he acquired it was unknown. But the four were grateful nonetheless that the Scott had the dated equipment in is kit.

After their week long training they were ready to fall asleep on the nearest surface. The blizzard they now faced was an unexpected one. Nothing on Price’s radar Gad alerted them to such a storm.

They’d just finished their survival training in the mountains when the first snowflake formed. During the rest of their descent it had only worsened.

As the snow around them thickened they trudged on. Becoming more aware of the weight of their kit, ache of their muscles and chill in their bones. These men were tired, hungry and cold.

After more miles and more words of encouragement from Price, Gaz was sure they were close to the safe house now.

Laswell had been kind enough to let them use the safe house after a particularly gruelling training exercise. It would be the closest thing to a holiday the 141 would get this year. Before the worst of the storm it had the Scotsman joking that he would build a snowman outside. An idea quickly shot down by Ghost in the interest of remaining vigilant to an enemies surrounding the house.

While snowmen were out of the question, snowballs were not. Something Ghost found out, twice, in the back of the head. Turning to see an innocent looking Gaz and Soap.

“You’ll regret that when we’re back on base and you two are on shit duty” the balaclava wearing Brit grumbles.

Soap sighs dramatically, “Oh come on Lt. Dinnae be like that, it was only a joke”.

The threat prompts Kyle to add, “It was all Soaps idea, think he should get shit duties on his own.”

Soap gasps feigning offence, “You bleeding clipe, don’t come knocking on my door when you want someone to warm your bed tonight.”

The comment causes the younger man’s face to heat up and laughs to come from the others.

“That if we get there in this blizzard” the captain quips. Trying to keep morale, but refusing to ignore the sinking feeling that they’ve missed the safe house completely.

“How far now?” Gaz asks, determined not to start pestering like an insolent child. Yet equally determined to have a proper meal and get out of his cold clothes.

“Two klicks north, then we should be there.” Soap tells him, loud enough for the others to hear in the now whipping winds.

“It was two klicks north last time someone asked Soap, are you sure you’re reading that right lad?” Price finds himself asking. Despite his rank, his military expertise and all his training agains the elements, it doesn’t make him immune to the cold. Immune to looking forward to sitting by a fire with a cup of tea in his hands.

Laswell wasn’t one to be stingy with safe house stock. From previous safe houses he’d been to that she had set up, they’d been a home away from home. Proper bedrooms, running water, stocked shelves. Price found himself ready to welcome anything that had four walls, a roof and could shelter him and his men from the storm.

“Two klicks north Captain, I’m sure”. Jonny confirms.

Sure enough, through the dense curtain of blizzard, light emerges. A gentle glow against the black nights sky. The closer they get, the clearer the house becomes.

A log cabin.

A big one at that. The sight is inviting enough to bring a smile to the men’s faces.

“Laswell’s outdone herself this time, fuckin yaldy” soap practically exclaims. Pushing forward to the front of the pack, in an effort to get in first.

“Hold it Jonny,” Simons voice is quiet through the mask, but harsh enough that the others can hear.

Ghost points to the chimney, “someone’s here”.

Sure enough as the others look up, they too see the plumes of smoke, gently rising from the brick chimney.

“Another team captain?” Gaz finds himself asking, while reaching for the know hidden in his thigh holster.

Price finds himself doing the same, “No, we’re the only ones in the country.”

The tension in the air is thick, rivals the thick snow pelting down on them. The four of them stand motionless, a short distance from the front door. Covered head to toe in winter gear, a layer of the snowstorm attached to anything it can stick to.

“Right, there’s only one door. I’ll lead. We’ll secure the ground floor first. Stay silent, we do this quietly.” Price commands. The men nod, moving to grasp their various knives. Following their captain as he moves to the front of the cabin.

With an almost inaudible creek, Price turns the handle of the door. Pushing the oak forward, grateful that it seems to glide over the wooden floors. Allowing him and his men to breach the property without alerting its inhabitants.

Price enters the living room first, signalling for the others to spread out and search the rest of the floor. He does indeed find a crackling fire, yet no one man’s it. The warmth is welcomed, but for the time being he ignores any desire to sit near it and warm himself.

His attention moves to the drying rack set up beside the fire. Upon further inspection of the items he finds combat trousers, a compression t shirt and a pair of large boots, size 12 he gathers from the label on the tongue. The clothes are still damp to the touch, leading him to infer that the intruder arrived a short time ago.

The badge on the arm of the shirt catches his eye. He rips it off the Velcro and examines it up close. An unknown insignia, contractor perhaps? Some new found terrorist group? Price doesn’t know. It’s not one he’s come across before.

Simon searches the kitchen. The space is a decent size, dark too. He blends into the shadows as he checks the space for any sign of life. He finds a empty soup can on one of the worktops. Turning to the sink he notices a single glass and pan siting there.

Once finished in his search he creeps back to the living room. Finding his captain there, along with a stoic looking soap and serious looking Gaz.

Price raises his hand to Simon, showcasing the fabric insignia to him. With cold eyes Ghost runs over the stitchwork. Mind running through the possible groups it could be associated with.

“Any ideas?” Price asks in a hushed voice.

Ghosts silence is a loud enough answer for the group. No

“Whoever they are haven’t been here long. Their clothes are still damp. Large boots, size 12.” Price goes through the details he’s uncovered.

“Men’s?” Gaz asks.

“Most likely”.

“There’s a pan in the kitchen. They’ve had soup. Only one glass.” Ghost reels off.

“We don’t know who we’re dealing with, could be anyone. Stay vigilant. Be prepared for a fight. I’ll take the lead upstairs. Shout if you find anything.” Price commands.

The team follow him single file up the stairs. Weapons at the ready as the sneak up the steps. Footsteps light on the wooden floor.

Price takes the first door, Gaz the second, Ghost the third and Soap the last door at the end of the hallway.

While three of the 141 find their rooms to be empty, Soap stops in the doorway. After almost silently twisting the door handle and letting it slide open, he stands in silence. What he didn’t expect to find was a girl sleep in the master bed, a pretty girl to be exact.

The Scotsman finds himself lost for words. He expected to have to fight someone of his stature. Maybe larger. He expected to walk away with a bruise or two. He feels lost on what to do. Should he wake her? Should he leave her?

Meanwhile the others have gathered in the hallway. Sharing a concerned glance at their teammate.

“What is it soap?” Ghost asked quietly.

“It’s a lass. A bonnie lass at that.” He tells them. Wonder in his tone as he stares at the sleeping girl. Watching as her chest rises and falls at a steady rate. Completely unaware of the four men that have entered the house.

The men collectively frown, walking further to investigate themselves. Sure enough, after they pass the threshold of the master bedroom, they too stand frozen. A girl. Not a man, or group of men. A girl, sleeping in their bed, in their log cabin.

Completely unaware.

#angelsworks post #dark #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod men #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod mw3 #soap cod #cod gaz #cod price #cod kyle gaz garrick #cod simon riley #cod john mactavish #cod john price #poly!141 x reader #poly!141 #dark!141

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bucketsofmonsters · 2 years

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In the Name of Science

cw: voyeurism, mutual masturbation, vaginal penetration, non human genitalia, knotting, size difference, fainting, chronic illness, implied animal death, medical abuse of the monsters

male werewolf x afab reader

word count: 9k

“Have you lost it? Absolutely not!” You snapped at the three scientists in front of you, the anger evident in your voice.

“You will have complete privacy and it’s not like we’re asking you to sleep with him…”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Yeah, I certainly hope not! This is so absurd, I cannot believe you’re asking me this.”

You went to storm out of the room when one of the scientists who had sat you down to very gently talk to you grabbed your arm. “Listen, you are the only one he responds to. We wouldn’t ask you this if there was any other way to do it, if we want to study his reproductive system...”

“No! It’s invasive and weird and I’m not doing it! You put him through enough as it is.”

That seemed to spark their interest. “Hold on, are you saying no for his comfort or yours?”

That was a question you weren’t prepared to get into, at least not with three scientists. “It doesn’t matter. Anyways, I have shit to do, can I go now?”

They didn’t want to drop the matter but you were clearly not changing your mind so they let you storm out and go about your day.

You weren’t a scientist. Your job leaned closer to zoo keeper. Someone had to take care of all the monsters that were being studied here and the scientists certainly weren’t doing it.

They weren’t entirely wrong. Most of the creatures here responded better to you than anyone else but in all fairness, you were the one who was feeding them and talking to them, everyone else they saw on a regular basis spent most of their time poking at them and doing tests on them, of course they liked you the most.

With many of your monsters you were friends. You had developed truces of varying strengths with most of them and at the very least, you attempted to understand them. That’s more than most of the people who worked here could say.

They were all sentient, most to human levels, they deserved more respect than just being experiments and you seemed the only one inclined to give them that level of dignity.

Sometimes subjects would mysteriously drop off of your roster, nowhere to be seen. A few weeks later their room would be filled once more. You always prayed they couldn't sense that they weren't the first to live there, that creatures here didn't tend to have particularly long shelf lives. They were going through enough without that fear in them. The most you could do was give them all the dignity and companionship you could. You tried not to think about it too much but it haunted you all the same.

You had a favorite. Everyone knew it, him included. All he had was a number, subject 251. You would never call him that, call any of the subjects by their numbers. You opted instead for pet names and terms of endearment, which none of them seemed to mind.

This one in particular, subject 251, had taken a clear interest in you. That was how they saw it, a sudden and unexplainable attachment to you. You could have told them otherwise if they ever bothered to ask. But that was most of the problem you supposed, they never did.

He’d been an issue when you’d first arrived, the one monster you were warned about over and over again. ‘Be careful with 251.’ The idea of letting anyone get near him was so far from anyone’s minds. You were the newbie so you were given him on your roster.

You understood it. You too would be difficult if you were imprisoned and studied.

You’d given him what you could in terms of privacy and respect. You never tried to push, gave him as much autonomy as you were able to, despite him being a prisoner here. You spoke to him like a person, not an inconvenience or a rabid animal.

Most importantly, when he got angry or lashed out, none of that changed. Human decency was never something he had to earn, no matter how many times he threatened to slash your throat open.

Eventually, he started to talk back. At first you just thought it was because he was lonely, of course he would be when he was stuck in a room by himself, day in and day out. But after a while, it became clear that it wasn’t conversation just for the sake of it.

When more newbies came you refused to give him up, making as much space for him in your day as you could. You knew that he noticed the way you were staying longer and longer but he never called you on it. In fact, one day he asked you to stay.

After that you were inseparable. His attitude hadn’t shifted with anyone else but with you he was perfect. That became a bargaining chip, both of you swearing he’d behave better if you were allowed to give him his food in person, if you were allowed to stay longer, if he could have some little things to make his life easier.

The two of you had formed an alliance and more importantly, a friendship.

A few months ago you’d taken a vacation for a week and had been immediately called back because he’d become unmanageable. From what you’d heard, he almost ripped his temporary handler in half and managed to get halfway out of the facility before they were able to neutralize him.

When you came back you tried to explain to him that he couldn’t be doing this, that sometimes you might leave for a while and he needed to not massacre the staff. He was virulently against it, telling you he needed to keep his eye on you, to make sure you were okay.

No amount of reassurance stopped this instinct and just like that, you became vital personel. In his frenzy to get you back he gave you something else, job security.

That was why you could tell those scientist in no unclear terms to go fuck themseleves. But then again, your relationship with him was the reason they asked you about it at all.

You shook your head, trying to forget your discussion with them. You were glad you were there to shut them down, to be able to provide even a modicum of privacy to at least one of your creatures.

As you pushed the interaction out of your mind in favor of starting your day, you noticed someone you’d never seen before. She was a new keeper, one like yourself. You’d asked to be able to vet new employees but you’d been denied. Despite becoming vital personel, they still didn’t take you seriously.

She seemed nervous but in all fairness to her, it was probably her first day. Most people were a little on edge on the first day on any job, let alone one where you were caring for restless, angry creatures that could kill you in a heartbeat.

You gave her a wave before you picked up the big, metal box off the table, shifting it towards the metal door it was destined for.

“Hiya, what’s your name?” you called as you heaved the box over. Surely there was a less heavy mechanism you could use to deliver dinner, you’d have to pester the scientists about that when you got the chance. Everything in solid metal seemed like a great idea when you were planning but they didn’t have the carry the things.

“Sam,” she said, hurrying over to help you carry the box the last couple of feet before you both dropped it on the floor.

The second it touched the ground, something from inside rammed into the door, sending a crash echoing through the hall. As soon as Sam heard the noise she screamed and went running.

She wouldn’t last a week. The easily spooked ones never did.

This was why you wanted to help with finding new keepers. They never prepared them right, never asked the right questions. People got in with promises that they loved animals and that they were ever so caring as if that was in any way relevant.

What you really needed was to be good with people, really weird nonhuman people, and be very good at conflict resolution. You weren’t caring for lions and zebras, these were intelligent, terrifying creatures. It was hard to know exactly what kind of person would thrive here but it was easy to tell who wouldn’t be able to last.

You banged back on the door as you turned from the hallway Sam had gone running down. “Behave or you're not getting lunch,” you called through the wall and you hoped they’d understand.

You slid the metal box right up to the hatch at the bottom of the door, hooking them together so the room was still airtight, and slid the door of the trap upwards.

The faint sound of a bunny hopping across metal floors hit your ears and you shut both panels, unhooking the box and carrying it away as the creature was left to hunt.

That was mainly what you did, feed them with no contact allowed. They wouldn’t let you inside most of their rooms, you had to fight for the few that you did get to see. For most, you were lucky if you got to see them through a window.

Your favorite part of the day came last. It didn't previously but you’d had to push it to the end of the day lately because you were never sure when you’d be able to leave. He always tried to convince you to stay just a little longer and you rarely had the heart to shut him down, at least not the first time he asked.

Eventually you did always have to leave. You couldn’t stay in the sterile, white room lined with metal forever.

Before the decontamination chamber, there was a big observation room you had to pass through with a window facing into his cell and you could never quite help the massive smile that plastered itself across your face every day when you first laid eyes on him through the glass.

All of the blankets and pillows they’d given him were scrunched up in the corner, a little pile he was often laying on when you came in. Not today though. Today he was waiting by the door and as soon as he spotted you through that window his tail began to wag furiously.

You couldn’t help but giggle, eagerly running through the decontamination room so you could see him.

When you first laid eyes on him on your very first shift, you’d thought he was a werewolf. Most of the creatures here were hard to understand but a few were familiar concepts, things you’d seen the likes of before in movies.

The scientists had scoffed at you, told you he was nothing like a werewolf, he didn’t even have a human form. You still thought the comparison was apt.

He was undeniably wolf-like, covered in silver fur, with pointy ears and a muzzle and a big fluffy tail. There was something undeniably human about him too. He stood on two legs and spoke like a person and there was something in his eyes that felt so familiar.

“Hey buddy, how’re you doing?” you asked as you entered the room and were finally able to properly set eyes on that familiar face.

He couldn’t get too close. You both knew he couldn't or, despite the massive fit he would inevitably throw, they wouldn’t let you come back. You could see him holding himself back every time you came near him, clearly wanting to smother you in affection.

He responded quickly, eager to check in with you. “I’m fine. How are you feeling? Are you alright?”

No matter how many times you told him that you were fine he was always worried.

You brushed him off with a gentle, “I’m alright, like I always am,” while carrying his dinner in.

He mostly ate meat, although he was alright with not eating live animals, unlike many of the other creatures here. That was why you’d been allowed in here at all. No matter how well they got along with you, you were never allowed in the room with any of the active hunters.

It was probably for the best. At least that way they wouldn’t bond with you the way this one had.

You dropped the tray of raw steaks near his pile of blankets, his eyes tracking you as you moved. His head lifted and he sniffed the air.

“Still gotta take care of the others, bud,” you said, preempting the inevitable comment you knew he was going to make about your scent.

He grumbled. You knew he didn’t like it, them getting near you, the way he could smell the others on you, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. No matter how many times you decontaminated yourself, he always seemed to be able to smell it.

He dropped the issue, though you could tell he didn’t want to. Instead, his head fell to the side and he asked, “Are you upset about something?”

You were never sure how he managed to read you so well. He kept telling you it was because you were bonded but you weren’t certain what that meant. He didn’t seem capable of explaining it to you. The concept was just second nature to him and you couldn’t ask any of the scientists about it. Perhaps more accurately, you wouldn’t ask the scientists about it. You weren’t sure if they knew themselves and you’d die before giving them any more information than they already had.

“Did my scent tell you that?” you asked with a smile, trying to brush past it.

He was undeterred. “Did they do something to you?”

You waved off his concerns. “No, don’t worry about it, they just wanted me to do something weird and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What?”

You had no clue how to explain it to him.

You attempted to put it as tactfully as you possibly could. “They wanted me to… stimulate you. Just visually, I think, from the observation room. They want to study your reproductive system and they think that’s the best way to go about it for whatever reason. It’s super weird, I obviously said no so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Stimulate me?”

“Like, touch myself or something. I don’t know, I didn’t give them the time of day so I’m a little foggy on the details. Not that it matters, it’s creepy either way.”

“They made you uncomfortable?” You could see him getting angrier.

“No! I meant creepy towards you! It’s invasive. I wouldn’t mind but I’m not the one being observed and documented.” That came out wrong. “Not that I wouldn’t mind!” you quickly added defensively. “That’s not what I meant! Just that I’m not the one who should be made uncomfortable by all this, you know?”

He seemed confused by your words, trying to parse their meaning. You couldn’t blame him, you’d turned into a bit of a mess for a while there. After a long deliberation he finally responded, “I don’t mind either.”

“What?”

“I’m observed either way, this way I get to see you.”

He’d always been direct but this was a bit much, even for him. “Are you saying you want me to do it?”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“Not really.” Feeling a little shy right now, maybe, but you certainly weren’t uncomfortable.

“Then I want you to do it.”

You weren’t sure what to make of that. You had his permission now, so it was all on you. If you did do it, you certainly wouldn’t be doing it to help out the scientists. So why would you be doing it? Because he wanted you to? Or maybe you felt a tug towards saying yes for more selfish reasons.

“Your face is getting hot,” he noted, ever so helpful.

“Yup, that it is. Well, this has been a fun meeting, I will see you tomorrow bud.”

Now he was upset. “You just got here.”

“I’ll stay extra long tomorrow,” you promised. “I just got a headache and I need to go lie down for a while, I’ll see you later.”

You hadn’t completely been lying. You did have a headache, although that was more the norm these days.

You’d started to feel sick more and more frequently. You were convinced it was this place, with all the creatures and substances here that you knew little to nothing about. Being here so often couldn’t be good for you. You had no other explanation for why you felt so woozy all the time, why you couldn’t quite shake these headaches, why your legs sometimes just gave out on you.

Before you headed home and took a well earned painkiller, you stopped by one of the control rooms that always had a scientist or two milling around inside.

You poked your head in the door and just said, “I’ll do it,” not staying to witness the aftermath.

The next day you were a bundle of nerves. You probably looked like Sam had the day before. You felt like you were floating through your duties, thinking about the end of the day. That morning you’d been pulled aside by the same three scientists and told that today you’d have to slide subject 251’s meal under the door and then you were to stimulate him as best you could from behind the glass.

They’d reassured you dozens of times that there would be no record of your activities. Subject 251 got no such reassurances.

He lit up as he usually did the second he saw you but instead of decontaminating yourself and stepping inside, you slid the plate under the door.

“I can’t come in today,” you said as you walked up to the window, cursing the upset written all over his face.

“Why?” He searched your face, trying to understand. It didn’t take long before it clicked. “Oh. I won’t get near you, I know I’m not allowed to. Or hurt you, if that’s what they’re worried about.”

“I know you won’t, they just don’t trust you when your hormone levels are high. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“So you decided to do it?”

“As long as you're alright with it, I couldn’t see why not.”

You probably should have. Somewhere in you you were aware that most people would see why not, that this would be an insane decision. But the only barrier in your way had been his comfort and he seemed more than comfortable with the idea.

As much as you knew he was the one being investigated, you could help but feel like you were being studied under his unblinking gaze. His eyes refused to move anywhere else, content to just stare at you through the glass as you tried to figure out how to proceed.

You were the one to break the silence. “I’m not really sure how to do this, there isn’t exactly a manual for this sort of thing.”

“What do they want your goal to be?” he prompted you.

“To arouse you.” Those three words were the gist of it, despite the lengthy, boring mission statements you’d been given that morning.

“And what is your goal?”

That one was harder to answer. Maybe you should start writing mission statements for yourself as well. “I’m not sure.”

“But you’re here.”

And so you were.

“What do you want me to do?” Your chest felt tight as you asked, like you couldn’t quite manage to get enough oxygen. You’d meant the question genuinely but it felt like it came out sounding suggestive.

“Can I see you?”

You understood what he meant but you paused anyways. You didn’t know what you were waiting for, you’d made your decision the second you said you’d be here and yet, you still hesitated.

You checked the room for cameras again, making sure there were none. You knew there weren’t any and it honestly felt like you were stalling, trying to give yourself more time to think. Not that you could think properly right now.

He didn’t have the same luxury of knowing that he wasn’t being watched. The cameras pointed away from the window, positioned tactically so they didn’t look through but he was being fully captured, no matter where he stood.

Once you’d taken your moment and given yourself time to think that you hadn’t used, there was nothing left to do. As you started to get undressed, you rushed to take your clothes off. Anything slower felt like teasing and that was the last thing you wanted. You looked back to him when you’d finished pulling them off, not sure what for. You know exactly what he wanted to see next but you wanted to hear him say it.

His eyes roamed over you, they couldn’t seem to get enough, darting across your body.

You felt incredibly warm, despite your lack of clothes and the cold environment.

He was much closer to the glass now, practically pressed against it. You could tell exactly how slow and belabored his breathing was as it fogged the glass in front of you. You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at the sight, him peering through the newly frosted glass.

His head cocked to the side at the sound. “Are you having fun torturing me?” he asked, his tone playful.

“I’m not torturing you,” you insisted. “You’re the one who wanted me to do this.”

“I said I want to see you.”

You hopped up on a chair, spreading your legs for him as you did. You knew he could see exactly how wet you were.

It was almost embarrassing, all you'd done was strip for him and you were already soaking.

Your onlooker didn’t seem to agree with that assessment, instead pressing up even closer to the glass, pawing at it.

You’d believed him when he said that if you were in there with him he wouldn’t touch you but you didn’t appreciate until now just how hard that probably would have been for him. Maybe the window separating you was a small mercy, although it certainly didn’t feel like that as you dipped your hand slowly down, becoming more comfortable with putting on a show for him, until you reached your center and pressed your fingers inside yourself.

You could see his nostrils flaring, wanting to be able to smell you but unable to.

The tip of his cock poked through his fur. That’s what they’d wanted to see, you supposed the scientists would be pleased.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of it, couldn’t stop imagining it inside you, how strong he was, how effortlessly he could pick you up and thrust inside you, how he’d fill you up so completely. You couldn’t even see the whole thing, much of it hidden within his thick fur, but you could tell it was big.

He wasn’t even touching himself, just staring at you, watching how your lips fell open and your forehead creased when you rubbed over your clit, listening to the little noises you let out despite your attempts to be quiet. You wanted nothing more than to go to him.

“I need to touch you,” he whined, sharing your sentiment.

“We can't, this is all we get.”

He huffed as he fell back, bucking forwards into the air against nothing, his desperation clear. You should be in there, helping him, but instead you were getting off watching him rutt into nothing

“This was a bad idea,” you said, your motions slowing as guilt washed over you.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded. “Need you, just stay.”

His hand wrapped around his dick and you sped up your motions, set on at least putting on a good show for him.

He was rutting desperately into his hand, his eyes never leaving you. You thrust three fingers inside of yourself and still it didn’t feel like enough.

You were sure he felt much the same way and yet you could see him getting closer to his release.

You watched, entranced, as he came. Thick ropes of cum shot out of him all over the wall and the glass in front of him, his hand still tight around his cock.

As soon as he came you stopped, your fingers pulling out, refusing to come, like some sort of self inflicted punishment. He pushed up against the glass once more as you stopped but there was nothing he could do.

With no better options, you wiped your fingers as best you could on your clothes as you pulled them back on, promising yourself you’d wash them as soon as you left.

You rushed out before you had the chance to talk and regretted the decision the whole night. It had seemed like the easier option at the time, to not have to talk about it when all your conflicting feelings were swirling but now you just wished you’d gotten the chance to confirm that you hadn’t messed anything up.

The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough. You did your best to not rush through your duties, knowing exactly how costly a mistake could be in this place.

Finally, the time arrived and you were back in that observation room again. This time you mercifully were able to enter, no longer stuck behind that damn window.

He seemed as composed as ever and you got the feeling that he hadn’t been worrying the way you had. The thumping of his tail behind him gave away his excitement, as it always did, but you detected no signs of nervousness.

He studied you as you came in. “Something’s wrong,” he noted.

He always understood how you were feeling, he had some sort of sixth sense about it, but this time you were fairly certain that you weren’t difficult to read. You were sure you looked as worried as you felt. “Was it weird?” you asked, needing an answer as quickly as possible. “Please tell me I didn’t mess anything up between us.”

His head fell to the side. “Why would it be weird?”

“I don’t know, I think I feel like I helped them observe you.”

“They’re already observing me, why would it ruin our bond? Did you not want to?”

“No, just wanted to make sure I didn’t break anything.”

“You’re fine, we’re still intact.” He said it so plainly, like he was stating a fact.

It all seemed to come so easily to him, his biggest problem was being locked up in this place. Much of what he did seemed like it was based on instinct. There was less thinking required that way, it seemed nice.

He did, however, seem concerned about something. “You didn’t finish.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden change in topic. “That wasn’t really the point.”

“That’s always the point, making each other feel good. That’s what mates do.”

You mulled the word over in your head. Mates. Is that what he meant when he talked about your bond? Is that what you were? It didn’t feel right, like it couldn’t be a title that belonged to you. Surely you hadn’t earned that as you kept him here, trapped against his will.

“What does that mean to you? Being mates?” you asked.

You were afraid of giving intel to the scientists running this place but you wanted so badly to understand what that word meant to him, what you meant to him.

As he spoke you started to feel woozy and your ever-present headache worsened. You leaned on the wall beside you as you tried to focus on his words. He reached out his arm to help you before quickly withdrawing it, remembering that he wasn't allowed to touch you or he could lose you.

The dizziness got worse, despite your attempt to take some of the strain on your legs and you went to sit on the floor. You went down faster than you’d intended, your legs giving way underneath you as the headache overtook you and you hit the floor hard.

When you woke up, your back was pressed to the wall and you were sitting on top of some blankets. The pile of blankets in the corner of the room, to be more specific. You were fairly sure you’d passed out across the room and you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d gotten over here.

As you cracked your eyes open, you saw subject 251 standing over you defensively. The food you’d brought him was still sitting at the end of the makeshift bed, completely untouched. That was odd, he normally ate it right after you left. Although, you supposed, you hadn’t quite managed to leave yet. Nonetheless, it did feel like a significant chunk of time had passed.

“Hey,” you said, your voice low and wavering from your bout of unconsciousness. “You keeping me safe, big guy?”

A rumble came from deep in his throat as he continued to stand over you protectively.

“What time is it,” you asked, trying to gather your bearings.

“You’ve been out for a few hours,” he informed you. “They’ve been trying to get to you.”

Shit. Of course they had. You’d passed out next to what they considered to be one of their most dangerous creatures, of course they’d been trying to get to you, to get you out of there.

As you tried to get up with a groan, he settled down next to you, pulling you back towards the blankets. You didn't try to fight him, knowing you didn’t have the strength to get up right now. You needed rest more than anything.

You quickly realized as you felt his warm fur next to you that this was the first time the two of you had ever touched one another.

He’d always been good at following your rules, even if he wasn’t particularly fond of the scientists, and thus he’s always kept his distance, just as you’d informed him he had to.

But now, after you’d collapsed, vulnerable, in front of him, you appeared to have found his limit in regards to following the rules.

The beep of the intercom sounded and you heard a monotone voice fill the room. “We understand this is a delicate situation and we trust your instincts on the matter, if you need any kind of aid we have teams ready to go. Our first priority is your safety, do you have a way out of the enclosure?”

Your safety? After a moment it hit you what they were implying.

“Don’t worry about me,” you called out. “I’m fine. If anything's going to kill me it’s whatever this damn lab has done to me, not this guy.”

The intercom beeped off but you knew they were still listening.

His gaze immediately turned to you, his face questioning. “What did you say? Is being here killing you?” he asked, his voice soft and measured.

You’d avoided mentioning it for so long, not wanting to worry him, but now you didn’t really have a choice. “I don’t think this place is good for me bud. To be honest if it weren’t for you I probably would have left ages ago but I just can’t stomach the idea of leaving you here alone.”

His head cocked to the side. “It’s… hurting you?”

A wry chuckle escaped you. “Well, something certainly is. People don’t typically faint for no reason.”

“Why are you here if it hurts you?”

“I can’t leave you behind, it’d break my heart.”

“You’re hurt because of me.”

“No!” you immediately replied, refusing to let him blame himself. “That’s not it, I want to stay.”

“But it hurts?”

“But it hurts,” you conceded.

You couldn’t stand to look at those sad eyes, opting instead to shut yours and snuggle into his warm side. “Listen, we can talk about this some other time, okay? Right now I’m just going to enjoy this.”

He nuzzled right back into you, immediately giving in to your actions. “Little mate.” he purred, curling around you protectively.

You didn’t have the heart to correct him. And maybe it wasn’t just for his sake. Maybe now, curled up, feeling safe and warm, you wanted to pretend you really were his little mate too.

You woke up to the sound of the intercom going off once again.

“He called you his mate,” it stated. “This isn’t an ideal scenario but we don’t know much about mates and you’re already in there and anything you might do would be extremely advantageous to our research.”

You groaned in annoyance as you leaned back into your warm, living blanket. His ears perked up as he tried to understand what they were saying. He looked to you for clarification. You were often the translator between them, the scientists always speaking in stilted language and hidden meanings that many of your creatures had a hard time parsing.

“They want me to have sex with you,” you clarified and immediately he hunched further over you.

“I won't let them see my little mate like that, no. Absolutely not, no no no.” The mere idea immediately worked him into a little frenzy, leaving him muttering to himself as he tried to shield you from the cameras.

Your hand rose to caress his face and he leaned into your touch, calming down again. It didn’t take long before he fell back into place, curling around you once more.

Being able to touch you seemed to bring out a whole other side to him. You’d never seen him this affectionate or possessive, something seemed to have been set off in him that hadn’t been before.

Something had changed within you as well. The idea of having to return to the way things were before made you feel sick, you wanted to be able to hold him and comfort him like this all the time. Now you knew what you were missing as you stood away from each other, unable to get close.

Even breaking the rules as you were, it couldn’t last forever. Eventually you could no longer ignore your growling stomach and you convinced him that you needed to leave, that you’d be back tomorrow.

He told you not to come.

Your heartbreak barely had the chance to set in before he was quickly elaborating, telling you again and again that he didn’t want you to stay if it was hurting you.

You brushed him off, at least that time.

A few weeks later, it was your last day of work you’d ever attend. Ever since that day when you’d fainted and subject 251 had stood guard over you, he’d been insistent upon you leaving. It was quite a change from the norm, he went from being the reason you were guaranteed a job here, why you didn’t want to leave and go home in the evenings, to being the thing pushing you out. You could tell it was eating him alive, the thought that you staying was hurting you. He was obsessively insistent that you leave and get yourself to safety.

You’d never been good at saying no to that face.

So, after agonizing over the decision, awash with guilt, you turned in your two weeks notice.

You were selfish about it. You didn’t tell him for a while, wanting to pretend that everything was fine for just a bit longer.

You let it go on longer than you should have.

It was your last day here, the last time you’d ever see him, and he had no idea.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry, for his sake more than yours, but you kept finding yourself tearing up no matter how hard you tried.

As you opened the door to the observation room and headed through decontamination, your stomach dropped.

He wasn’t excited this time.

He didn’t say anything. He just looked down at you, not asking if something was wrong as you’d become so accustomed to him doing. He didn’t have to

You didn’t speak for fear of immediately bursting into tears and eventually he spoke for the both of you.

“You aren’t coming back.”

You buried your face in your hands, trying to make sure he didn’t see you like this. You wanted his last memory of you to be better than this, to give him something more solid to hold onto.

The best you could manage was poorly stifled tears.

All you wanted was to hug him. To lurch forwards and wrap your arms around him and never let go.

But you couldn’t. If you did, you weren’t the one who would be punished. You couldn’t do that to him.

You spent the rest of the day just sitting there, existing in one another’s presence. Trying to soak one another in before it was too late.

You didn’t speak. There was little to say that wasn’t understood between you. You finally got it, that last day. You felt the pull of his grief on the other end of your bond, something connecting you.

You weren’t sure if it was something undefinable and otherworldly or just complete understanding of one another but either way, it was real.

As you stood up to leave you searched for something, anything you could say to make all of this right.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” you asked. It was the most important thing in the world to you right now, you just needed to make sure.

“Of course I do.”

And then you left your mate behind.

Nothing felt real after that. You knew you couldn't stay there but the idea of there being an after hadn’t really occurred to you.

What were you supposed to do now? Just live knowing he was out there, alone? You couldn’t make sense of anything, the whole world seemed muted and suffocating.

An alarm blared suddenly overhead, making you jump. It wasn’t an uncommon experience. Most of the creatures here were difficult to hold, whether it was because of inhuman strength or an unusual viscosity or any other number of oddities they held. It wasn’t your problem anymore, you thought as you gathered your things, trying to get near an exit so as soon as the lockdown cut out you’d be able to leave.

You wanted to get home and wallow, to mourn the loss of this place, of your friend.

You were more careless than you should have been. Normally you were tactful and moved with intention but not this time, this time you just wanted to get out. That was your mistake.

Something massive and vaguely reptilian came smashing around the corner, immediately setting its sights on you. You could tell it was in a frenzy, that it was out for blood after breaking out of its hellscape of a prison.

You couldn’t blame it, even as it came barreling towards you to rip it in two. It wasn’t the creature's fault, you wouldn’t blame it.

It never made it all the way down the hallway. Instead its scaly feet came to a screeching halt as a wall of fur blocked its path, growling at the creature. It clearly didn’t want to test its luck and went barrelling down the hallway in the other direction, looking for easier prey to take out its wrath on.

Subject 251 turned and made eye contact with you, looking uncertain. He used to break out frequently, he’d taken out plenty of humans when he had, but since you’d formed your little truce he’d stayed put for you.

You wondered if his breakout this time had been because he could somehow sense you were in danger or because you were leaving and he no longer had anything to keep him where he was.

It didn’t matter. At the end of the day there he was, in front of you. You had a decision to make. One look at that big, eager face and you instantly knew it wouldn’t be a hard one.

You reached out towards him and he instantly came to you.

As many times as there were breakouts, the creatures rarely made it outside the facility but then again, they also rarely had the facility’s star employee at their side with nothing to lose.

“I think I can get you out, do you want to go?” Your words were frantic. You needed to move quickly if you wanted to have any chance to get out of there.

He didn’t even have to think about his response, nodding eagerly and trailing behind you the second you took off.

The alarms were still blaring overhead, screeching and causing your ears to ring. You knew exactly which doors would have the least guarding, especially in the middle of a breakout.

You knew all the override codes and quickly ushered him through doors that otherwise would have been deadlocked.

As you headed out the last doorway you ran straight into a scientist, one you’d seen in passing before.

He was clearly already panicked from the breakout, the sight of a massive werewolf standing behind you was probably not helping matters.

“You’re going to want to let us through,” you informed him.

Behind you, the monster that they’d kept imprisoned for so many years snarled and the man looked like he might drop dead from fear, quickly sidling up to the wall and getting as far out of your way as possible.

You’d never been so grateful that you lived a short walk from the lab. You had no idea how you would have gotten the two of you home if you’d needed to drive. Eventually it would prove to be a problem, when they inevitably came for him, but that was an issue for another day.

He ducked his head to get inside, taking in your home before quickly moving towards your bed and stripping it of all its blankets, instead opting to make a little nest out of them on your floor.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You could give up your bed for a little while, he’d more than earned some comfort after everything he’d been put through.

Before you even realized what was happening, you were being pulled into the small pile of pillows and blankets beside him.

The warm comfort of him by your side was more than welcome. You’d been dreading the idea of coming home to a cold, lonely house all day, knowing you’d lost your best friend. Your mate.

Having him here was all you could ever ask for.

“They’re going to come after you, you know,” you informed him, the thought endlessly circling your mind, refusing to die down.

He seemed to misunderstand your concern for him as worry for your own safety as he pulled you into his side protectively. “I won’t let them get you.”

You quickly succumbed to the closeness, cuddling into him in the little nest. “As long as you don’t let them get you either.”

You felt a rumble run through his chest and you couldn’t tell if it was in acknowledgement of your words or if he was amused that you thought you even had to ask.

He started rearranging the blankets around you, making sure you were comfortable before fully setting in, manhandling you around as he sorted things out. Finally, as he settled, you ended up basically in his lap.

Then you felt his tongue lap over your shoulder, him readjusting you to best be able to lick you.

“What’re you doing?” you asked with a giggle, partly at the situation and partly because he was tickling you.

“Grooming you,” he said before getting back to work, his tongue slowly lapping over your arm.

You let him carry on with his work, trying your best not to focus on it. He was just trying to clean you, it wasn’t a big deal.

Still, the endless sensation of his tongue roving your body sent sparks of arousal through you.

You heard him sniff the air and your face immediately warmed, knowing you’d been caught.

“Couldn’t smell it through the glass,” he said, nose burying itself in your hair, as if he couldn’t get close enough to you and your scent.

“Couldn’t feel you through the glass either,” you murmured, pushing back into him.

He started slowly pulling your clothes off but the grooming didn’t cease. He needed more skin to skin contact, removing the inconvenient barriers in his way. He worked slowly, drawing this out as long as possible. You could only guess he was attempting to torture you. His tongue was pressed against your bare skin, roving leisurely across your newly exposed chest and stomach. You could feel his hardening dick start to poke into you but he just kept licking.

Eventually you grew impatient, your hand wandering down to grab his cock. It was hot and bigger than you thought it would be, its size disguised by his thick fur. He thrusted into your hand, a whine escaping him.

Your impatience proved to be a success as he wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you. His hands almost completely encircled your midsection as he moved you effortlessly over his dick.

His claws were digging into your sides as he positioned you, looking to you for permission.

You nodded and you felt the tip of his dick press against you as he pushed you down onto it. He moved slowly, giving you time to adjust as he pressed into you, stretching you open.

Finally, you felt your thighs meet his fur, straddling his waist with his hands still wrapped around you.

He was everything your fingers could never be. You’d never felt so full and beautifully stretched in your life.

You attempted to ride him, lifting up as best you could, but he was too big, it was too difficult to do. It didn’t take long for him to pull you back down anyways, his hands never straying from your sides.

“It's my turn this time. And I promise you, this time you will come.”

He lifted you once more, thrusting you swiftly back down. You could see the bump it caused in your lower stomach when he thrusted all the way in. You barely had time to look at it before you were being lifted once more.

“Touch yourself,” he said, his movements never faltering.

You shifted to rub your clit as best you could as he pumped you up and down his shaft, using you like a toy. You had no control over the pace, being moved at his whim.

The loss of control was exhilarating. The sharp movements inside you touched places you hadn’t even known existed, places you’d never be able to reach on your own.

He was dead focused on you, intent on keeping his promise. Every time he did anything that drew a pleasured cry from you he’d chase after it, finding everything that made you tick.

“Let go for me, please,” he said, thrusting incessantly into you at the perfect angle, everything rapidly becoming overwhelming. Part of you wanted to stop touching yourself to lessen some of the all consuming stimulus but more of you wanted to be good for him, to do everything he asked.

You were too far gone to respond to his plea, your head thrown back as all the pent up energy that you’d been ignoring for so long was released. He pumped you up and down his shaft as you touched yourself, guiding you through your orgasm.

As you came down from your high, your eyes opened to meet his watching your face intently.

“Can you keep going?” he asked, holding you up so only the tip of his throbbing dick was inside you.

“Please, I need you, want you to come,” you begged.

He mercilessly thrusted you down again, now only concerned with his own pleasure. He chased his orgasm and you completely surrendered control, letting him move you as he pleased, do whatever he needed to in order to come.

“You’re so soft, so tight, so perfect.” He started rambling, sounding like he barely knew he was speaking. “Wanted this for so long, to touch you. Dreamed about this.”

“Me too,” you gasped out, his pace still relentless. “I wanted you so badly.”

His breaths were coming faster and faster and he quickly asked, “Where should I…”

You didn’t even let him finish. “Inside”

He buried himself fully inside and you could feel the base of it swelling just inside your entrance, holding you two together as he filled you. He whined and grunted and held you as close as he could as the sticky fluid flooded your insides

“You’re going to be stuck like this for a while,” he said as he came down, still cradling you close to him and almost sounding sheepish.

“Good, I like how you fill me up.”

The words pulled a soft, instinctual thrust from him and you both whined at how sensitive you were.

“Stop flirting,” he hissed into your hair, hands resting on your hips, keeping the both of you from moving.

“For now,” you conceded.

“Thank you,” he said, his hands roving over your form, claws lightly being drawn over your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake.

“For what?”

“For everything. For saving me.”

“The breakout was mostly you bud, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

His grip on you tightened, like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers despite the fact that you were tied together and you couldn’t go anywhere even if you wanted to.

But of course you didn’t want to. If you had anything to say about it, you wouldn’t be leaving him for a long long time.

You didn’t know how you were going to move forwards, where you’d take him, how any of this would play out. Maybe they wouldn’t want to chase him down, it being a hazard to try and catch a creature that had been such an issue even when they were holding him in their specialized facility. Maybe it’d take years for them to give up. Maybe they’d never stop chasing him and you’d have to keep running and fighting for the rest of your lives. Maybe they’d catch you and all this work would have been for nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing, you thought, wrapped up in his arms in the little nest of blankets he’d built for you on your floor, no looming goodbyes or rules against touching, no more being alone. Whatever happened, it was already worth it.

#terato #terato writing #monster x reader #werewolf x reader #monster bf #monster boyfriend #monster x human #werewolf x human #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf bf #I almost made this angsty but I didn't have the heart for it #my writing is guaranteed happy endings bc I'm a big sap #I keep writing werewolves that are just like perma werewolves with no human form #and I always feel weird calling them werewolves but idk what else to call them lol #werewolf-adjacent monster

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finelinefae · 1 month

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birdy [Pilot!harry x teacher!y/n]

synopsis: it’s the 1950s. harry's had a hard life and y/n just wants the truth

word count: 12.3k

contains: fluff, angst, childhood trauma, nightmares, abusive father, neglectful parents, grovelling, smut (size kink, tiny praise kink, breeding kink, oral m receiving)

this is part 3 of the aviator read part 2 here

this could have gone one of two ways...

. . .

Y/N was convinced that returning to the airbase took only half as much time as the journey to reach the campsite. She hated hiking, even more so after this trip, but she had places to be so she charged down the trail all the way back to the airbase. The clouds overhead seemed to mirror her anger, morphing into shades of grey, empathising with her mood.

“Y/N, Harry went back earlier this morning. We came back from the bonfire and he was hyperventilating and shit. Thought he was gonna pass out so me and Pat went to get him some water but when we got back he was gone.” Sonny had told her when she had asked why Harry was missing.

Y/N’s mind instantly went to the night she had woken up to one of Harry’s nightmares. She wondered whether or not that had something to do with his sudden disappearance. However, it didn't seem to cool the anger she felt that seemingly continued to grow with every fueled step she took back towards Offutt.

As she made it out of the clearing, she noticed a figure sitting under a tree in the distance. She paused, squinting her eyes and immediately recognising those broad shoulders and that head full of brunette curls. Now that she could finally see him, she wondered if it would be better to just let him sit and wallow in whatever guilt he may or may not be feeling but she considered confronting things like this as self-care and she wouldn’t allow herself to return home without knowing why she had woken up alone this morning.

She ignored the droplets of rain that began to fall slowly from the sky. Instead, she trudged through the slightly muddy grass. Y/N caught his head turn as though he sensed her incoming. He shot up, standing tall and began to walk towards her.

Harry couldn’t even react when he saw the anger radiating from her face. He knew what he had done and there was no good reason for it, “Y/N-”

When she was finally in front of him, Y/N took a deep breath to steady herself. “Don’t ever disrespect me like that again,” she said firmly, her voice carrying her emotions. Then, turning away, she began to walk away from him.

She felt a hand wrap around her wrist but she tugged it, breaking free from his grip, “No,” She turned around to face him, “You walk away from me, I walk away from you.” It’s what she planned to do all along, make him realise how much it hurt to have someone turn their back on you.

Harry’s heart seemed to crack as her voice trembled, “Y/N,”

“Why?” Her bottom lip wobbled but she held her breath, trying to be stronger than him, “Why would you do that? Y’know, I’ve put a lot of faith in you Harry, I trusted you. People labelled you so many things and I always backed you up but that was just…Mean. You are being mean.”

“I know, I know,” Harry said, which only fuelled her anger even more. He had no idea what it felt like to wake up alone, especially after admitting something so honest.

“You have no idea,” Her voice raised, “You have no idea what that felt like because you will always be the person who leaves.”

Harry couldn’t seem to find the words. She was right and finally seeing him how he saw himself. There was nothing good about him and he had been told that his entire life by all the people he cared about. Everything he loved as a child was taken away from him with claw marks all over them. He had been forced to grow up, leave home and raise three kids. He knew one day that they too would be taken away from him- they’d find better people, a happier life - and he would be left with nothing because it was all that he had known and all that he had deserved.

Y/N couldn’t seem to fathom how he stood there in complete silence. The silence seemed to birth a new feeling inside her, another seed planted in her slow-burning heartbreak.

Until His voice murmured something, barely audible to her ear, "It was you."

She stilled, “What?”

His head lifted and she finally got to see him through the fog of anger. His cheeks were tear stained, his eyes red-rimmed and tired like he had barely slept. His hair looked as though he had run his fingers through them one too many times. “In my nightmare, it was you.” He confessed.

Y/N was struggling to breathe, “What are you talking about?” She whispered, her eyes glassy.

“I haven’t experienced it that way in so long, I-I thought I was okay now.” Harry's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“What did they do to you?” Y/N took a step forward.

“I thought I was at home. I-I was in my room in my own body and my pops was there sitting in his armchair. He wouldn’t stop laughing at me and then I looked down and saw y’ on the floor,” Harry inhaled sharply like he was picturing the moment as he was re-calling it, “I tried to wake y’ up but you wouldn’t reply, y’ wouldn’t wake up and he was just sat there laughing and laughing. I was calling for help but no one could hear me and t-then he started saying I did it.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back her tears anymore as Harry began to cry. She wanted to reach out for him, to remove every bad thing that had ever happened to him and replace them with good.

“He said it was me who hurt you,” He cried, “I tried to save you Y/N but I couldn’t and he was just laughing.”

“Harry,” Y/N whispered, grabbing his hand and feeling him grip her fingers so tightly she thought it would cut off the circulation.

“I woke up outside,” He murmured, sniffling, “I was sitting out somewhere in the morning and Sonny and Patsy found me. I could hardly catch m’breath and they went off to get something that’d help but I was too ashamed. I couldn’t face them and I couldn’t face you either.”

"Why?" Y/N couldn't help but ask, despite all the times she had promised him she would be there for him.

Harry's gaze fell to the ground as he struggled to find the words. “Because,” He huffed, trying to smile but he just looked broken, “What’s a girl like you doing with someone like me? God, I love you so much Y/N. I’ve never loved anybody in m’ whole life and the only thing I know about it is that y’ give the people y’ love what they are most deserving of and you deserve so much more than what I can give.”

Y/N’s lips parted but he continued, “I have nothing. I am nobody. Outside of this place, I have nothing. I come from a family of nobodies and you…you are everything.”

Y/N’s heart ached with every word he spoke and the vulnerability and pain on his face. She felt as though he was cutting himself open and he had nothing more he could hide away from her, “Harry, you are changing that.” She whispered, her voice filled with conviction.

He frowned, puzzled by her words, uncertain of their meaning. “The way you are with your brothers and Elise, what you’ve given them, it is the biggest example of love I have ever seen. This life you’ve shown them here comes from your love Harry.” She said, a smile breaking through her tears as his expression softened. She reaches up to cup his cheek in her hand, “I don’t want you to give me something better, I want you to give me you and the love I have seen you give to the people you care about. And I want to give you love too because I love you more than words can even comprehend and you are so deserving of it.”

Harry’s eyes close softly as if he can’t quite believe the words he’s hearing and he’s trying to absorb it all. Y/N pulls his head down so their foreheads are pressed against each other, “Maybe you thought you had nothing but you always had love and if this is your nothing then I want all of it. That is what I want you to give to me.” She whispers.

There's a pause, a moment of silent understanding between them, as Harry processes her words. His eyes slowly flutter open, revealing a depth of emotion that takes her breath away. She sees in his gaze a mixture of disbelief and gratitude as if her words have unlocked something within him that he never thought possible.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Harry's hands find their way to her face, his touch gentle yet firm. It's as if he's trying to memorise every contour, every line, every curve as if he's afraid that this moment might slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

"There is nothing in this world that means more to me than you," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "Thank you," he adds, his words filled with sincerity and love.

Y/N smiles softly, her eyes reflecting warmth and understanding. "That's okay," she says gently.

The rain pours around them as they stand underneath the shelter of the tree. Harry doesn’t even ask for permission, too eager to, as he presses his lips to hers. Y/N squeaks in surprise but melts into him when she allows herself to feel all the things he can’t communicate, put into every motion of his lips.

Harry feels new like the burden of his childhood is eased from his shoulders as the light from her kiss injects itself into his body. He wonders how he could ever allow himself to walk away from this, “I’m so sorry Y/N.” He says against her lips, “I love you, I’m sorry.”

Y/N sighs, “We’ll learn,” She says, “We’ll get better and we’ll both learn.”

It’s more than just words of forgiveness, it’s a promise and the start of something new.

When they finish kissing, they both look up at the sky and see how hard the rain is pouring, “I think I’m over this trip now.” Y/N sighs, “I don’t think I ever want to go camping again.”

“Oh c’mon it was fun,” Harry teases with a sniffle but then sees her deadpan expression, “Okay it could have been better but at least we’re together now.”

Y/N takes her hand away from him and crosses her arms, “Who decided that?”

Harry’s face drops, “I-I thought-.”

She quirks a brow, “I haven’t forgiven you for leaving me yet. That was just cruel and you should know better!”

Harry looked at her apologetically “I know baby-“ He reached for her hand but she swiftly moved away, stepping out into the rain and walking back towards the trail.

“I won’t be letting you off so easily.” Harry’s shoulders slumped as he stayed glued to the floor, watching her walk away from him.

He tried not to smile as she stumbled over the uneven ground, her clothes getting wet from the rain. He cupped his mouth and yelled, “But y’ still love me right?”

“Of course I do you idiot!” She yelled over her shoulder.

Harry smiled, “I love you too, bigger than the whole sky Y/N.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N yelled, “Prove it!”

Harry chuckled, running over to join her in the rain.

. . .

To grovel actually meant to get down on your knees and beg for not only days but weeks in Y/N’s books which Harry had gradually come to realise.

They returned from the airbase before everybody else and arrived at Y/N’s house to shower. Harry had tried to persuade Y/N to shower with him, using the classic excuse of ‘it’ll save water’ but she was too smart for that and he knew better.

Soon, life resumed its usual rhythm after the camping trip, but there was a noticeable change in Y/N and Harry. Others noticed the absence of tension between them, seeing the love reflected in their gazes whenever they looked at each other. However, they couldn't understand why Y/N refused to acknowledge their relationship, or why Harry seemed so smitten and eager- all of a sudden walking around like he was a lovesick puppy in need of attention.

Every day Harry would be doing something for Y/N, whether it was buying her flowers at the start of every week or walking her home during his work breaks. He’d rarely ever be seen with another woman, let alone make eye contact with them, all because he was desperate to make it up to the only woman he’d ever want for the rest of his life.

“Y/N,” Francine, one of the nursery workers, called her name as she was washing up paint pots in the sink, “He’s here for you.”

Y/N tried to hide her smile, “Could you tell him to wait please Fran?”

Soon Fran returned and in her arms was a giant bouquet, “He couldn’t stay very long,” She handed Y/N the roses, “But he told me to give you these.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her hands still dripping wet as she held the red roses in her arms. She placed them on the countertop and took out the card attached to the bouquet. ‘I love you bigger than the whole sky, your Harry.’

Y/N bit down on her lip as she folded the small piece of paper and slid it into the front pocket of her apron. “When’s that boy gonna put a ring on y’ finger?” Loretta, one of the older nursery workers asked.

Y/N scoffed, “Only if he can get near my hand first, Loretta.”

Although marriage would definitely not be happening anytime soon, the picture of it in her mind made her smile.

In the evening, Y/N had been enjoying some much-needed girl time with Molly and Patsy. Y/N hadn’t seen Nancy since the night of the bonfire. She was rarely ever home to the point where the girls wondered why she even bothered renting her room out for much longer.

They sat around the living room in pink robes, watching a movie and reading magazines. It had been a while since Y/N had had some downtime with her housemates. So much of her time had been either working or being trapped in the whirlwind that was her relationship with Harry.

“Can I have some of that?” Patsy asked, unable to keep her eyes off the television as she held her hand out for the bottle of wine.

Molly passed it over but her eyes narrowed on Patsy, “Is that Sonny’s sweatshirt you’re wearing under that?”

Patsy finally looked away, her mouth opening and closing, “N-no?” She lied, terribly.

“Did you sleep with him?” Molly questioned.

Patsy swallowed, “No…maybe…yes.”

Patsy's feeble attempt at denial only made Y/N and Molly laugh harder. Y/N struggled to stifle her giggles, while Molly's laughter rang out loud and clear.

"And? How was it?” Molly urged, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Patsy’s face flushed bright red, “It was good.”

“That’s it?” Molly frowned.

“Fine,” Patsy’s shoulders slumped, “It was wonderful, Mol. The best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re lying,”

“It’s true!” Patsy exclaimed, “There’s just something about ‘em, right Y/N? You slept with Harry already didn’t you?”

Y/N’s smile fell from her face, “Huh?”

Molly smirked, “Now you definitely cannot lie about that. Everyone knows it.”

Y/N's smile faltered, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean, everyone knows?"

Molly's smirk widened. "Come on, Y/N. It's written all over your face. You've got that look all the girls have, you know the one where they lie about being with someone when it’s clearly not the truth."

Y/N's cheeks flushed as realisation dawned on her. "Oh," she murmured, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"So, spill it," Molly urged, leaning in with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Have you?"

“I don’t know…Maybe,” She could feel the corner of her lips tugging upwards and her hands quickly shot up to cover her face.

Her two housemates squealed, jumping up from the couch with excitement, “You have?” Molly grinned.

“Yes!” Y/N laughed.

“Tell us all about it!” Patsy fell to the floor and leaned in towards her.

“O-Oh, I-” But as luck would have it, Y/N was interrupted by the doorbell ringing and then the door swinging open.

“Patsy?” Sonny’s voice rang down the hallway as he invited himself in again.

Molly rolled her eyes, annoyed, “What is it?”

Footsteps sounded against the hardwood floors as Sonny entered the living room. His eyes landed on the girls as they sat on the floor, “What are you doing?”

"What does it look like we're doing?" Molly retorted, crossing her arms defensively.

"Can I join in?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Patsy groaned, "Just tell us what you want, already."

“Oh,” Sonny shook his head as if reminding himself why he was here, “Elise is sick,”

Y/N stood up, “What? How sick?”

“George has had to bath her four times already and Harry can’t seem to get her to sleep. It’s manic in that house, y’ gotta help us out.” Sonny begged.

"But it's girl's night," Molly said firmly, gesturing toward the girls in their gowns. "And we're not your nurses or your babysitters."

"Please?" Sonny's eyes pleaded, darting towards Y/N.

Y/N sighed, relenting. "Fine. Let me get dressed." She manoeuvred past the girls seated on the floor and headed upstairs to her room to change.

“What? Patsy, y’ can’t be serious?” Molly whined.

“It’s Elise and Sonny’s sister.” Patsy shrugged as though it was reason enough.

Molly huffed, knowing no matter what she said it wouldn’t be enough to persuade them to help a sick child. The girl’s night they had planned would just have to be put on hold, “Alright,” She conceded.

Sonny led the girls across the estate to the Styles’ household. Along the way, Y/N and Molly teased Patsy and Sonny when they noticed them holding hands inside the pocket of Sonny’s aviator coat. The closer they got to the house, the more they could hear Elise wailing from inside.

He swung the door open, the girls following behind, “I’m back!” Sonny called as they entered the kitchen, “I bought reinforcements.”

Harry turned around when they all stepped into the room. He was shirtless, holding onto a crying Elise, her little face all scrunched up and red. His eyes immediately gravitated towards Y/N, “You’re here,” He sighed as if the sight of her had alleviated some of the stress he was feeling.

Y/N walked straight up to him and took Elise out of his grip, “M here,” She sighed, “Oh sweet girl, it’s okay,” Y/N kissed the side of the two-year-olds head, swaying her side to side in her arms.

“She’s been sick all afternoon, must have got it off some kid at the nursery.” Harry exclaimed, his eyes tired from taking care of his sister and being at work all day, “I’ve tried everything. Normally singing her to sleep helps but she won’t seem to settle and I’m all out of ideas.”

“Hey,” Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling his warm skin, “It’s okay, we’re here to help you.”

He relaxed beneath her touch, the sentiment making him smile, “Y’ don’t have to,” Harry murmured.

“Harry,” Y/N gave him a stern glare, “I want to.”

His lips curved into a grateful smile as he nodded. "Thank you."

Y/N was so ensnared by his captivating eyes she had to force herself to look away, “Go shower. We’ll clean up down here.”

Harry saluted playfully, brushing past her but not before pressing a hasty kiss to her cheek. Y/N gasped, spinning around and seeing a hint of a smirk on his face as he ran up the stairs.

“Ha Ha,” Elise croaked, pointing at her brother.

Y/N’s expression softened at the little girl’s tired voice, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

As Sonny and Patsy helped clean the kitchen, Molly made a start on dinner and George and Y/N bathed Elise in the kitchen sink. Although Elise was exhausted from being sick all afternoon, everyone went about their chores whilst trying to bring a smile to her face. Whenever she giggled at George and Sonny's antics or Patsy's playful arguing with Sonny whenever he attempted to flirt with her, the group would cheer from their achievement at making her laugh.

Once they’d put all the dishes on the table, Harry had come down from his shower. Y/N drew in a breath when he walked through the door with damp curls and a towel around his waist, “Jus’ need to grab something,” He smirked as he walked past Y/N who caught the smell of his coconut shampoo.

As Y/N stood at the kitchen sink to get rid of Elise’s bath water, she felt his solid form come up behind her. Her lips parted, a breath of air escaping her, as he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. With his other arm, he reached out, his hand still resting on her shoulder, to open the cupboard above her and pulled out a clean hand towel.

The warmth spreading through her body dissolved once he pulled away. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when she heard his feet against the floor fade as he left the room.

To her side, Molly and Patsy were trying not to laugh as they covered their mouths and tried to resume what they had previously been talking about before they were briefly interrupted. Y/N rolled her eyes and walked to the table to begin plating up dinner for everybody.

Harry had returned from his shower and now sat at the end of the table with Y/N to his right and Elise beside her sitting in a high chair. She was nibbling at the food George had prepped for her, taking small bites when she felt like it.

Everyone tucked into their meal as a smooth jazz record lulled in the background. Suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence, George piped up, “So is everyone dating at this table?”

Sonny groaned, “Why’d you bring that up?”

“Because!” George paused, cutting into his meat, “I can’t handle the tension in this room, it’s like you all want to have sex with each other.”

“George don’t be so vulgar,” Molly snapped, her tone sharp, “But he does have a point.”

“Well Patsy and I are together,” Sonny put an arm around Patsy’s shoulders only to receive an angry glare in return, “What?” He took his arm back, “They already figured it out!”

“Well, what about Y/N and Harry,” Patsy crossed her arms, wanting to divert the attention to something else, all heads turning to face the couple at the end of the table.

“Well, I-I-“ Y/N was all flustered, not knowing how to approach the subject until Harry stepped in.

“It’s up to Y/N,” Harry shrugged, taking a bite from his fork. Y/N’s head whipped in his direction, “I’ll do whatever she wants me to do.”

As he spoke the words, she felt his hand land on her thigh. Y/N stilled as he squeezed her knee but instead of freezing like she always seemed to do with him, she placed her hand on top of his and flipped his hand over to intertwine their fingers wanting to show him at least some grace for his ability to speak when she couldn’t find the words.

“Well good for Y/N. You see not all girls are easily swayed by you boys, you know.” Molly remarked.

“Ahh are you sure about that Mol? Maybe it’s just because you’re the only girl here who hasn’t tried to sleep with any of us.” George quipped with a teasing grin.

Molly scowled, “Don’t you have to follow Nancy around or something?”

Sonny burst out laughing as George’s face fell, “Yeah yeah, you can all laugh but the other day I swear I almost got a smile outta her.”

“Oh nice, an almost smile yeah that’s really great George.” Everyone laughed around the table.

By the time dinner was over and everyone had been ridiculed at least once, Elise was already half asleep. Harry volunteered to tuck her in, lifting her gently and carrying her upstairs to her bedroom. As the others stepped outside for a smoke break, Y/N took it upon herself to clear the empty plates and tidy up.

Before tidying, Y/N went upstairs to use the bathroom. As she climbed the steps, she noticed a partially open door. Intrigued by the humming coming from the room, she quietly peeked inside.

It was dark other than a small candle lit up in the corner of the room. Harry stood by the window with Elise in his arms. Her cheek was resting on his shoulder as her small hands fisted the sleeve of his shirt. His big hand rubbed up and down her tiny back as her eyes fluttered open and closed. She almost resembled a cherub resting on a fluffy cloud as Harry hummed her to sleep, his head turning an inch to press a soft kiss to the side of her head.

Y/N's eyes glistened with an emotion she couldn't quite place. Her heart felt like it was trying to leap out of her chest and walk into the room to join them. The longer she stayed fixed on the two siblings, alone in one space, it seemed as if they were the only two people existing, if only for a brief moment in time.

Not wanting to disturb their peace and quiet, Y/N carefully tiptoed away from them to give them the space they needed.

She stood at the kitchen sink and began filling it with water and soap. Her mind drifted to the image of Harry holding Elise almost as if he were her own father. Y/N’s heart had been hurting for Harry and his siblings ever since he had broken down to her on the hill. A part of her wondered if she was doing all this because she felt she had to fulfil some kind of duty to them but it never felt like work helping the Styles’ siblings, she just had a spot for them in her heart that was growing exponentially by the day.

Y/N felt that presence that had become so familiar to her, come up behind her as she cleaned the dishes. His arms snaked around her waist, swaying them slowly to the gentle bossa nova that played over the record player, “Dance with me,” He murmured, pulling her away from the sink.

Y/N laughed, spinning around in his arms and pressing her wet and soapy hands to his face. Harry’s face scrunches, “Have I told y’ I love y’ today?” He asked, nuzzling his cheek in her palm.

“Hmm,” Y/N pretended to think, “I don’t think so.”

“Well I do,” He says, “I love you bigger than the whole sky, Birdy.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replies because she always will no matter how angry she is or was with him.

“Enough to forgive me?” He tries but his face already says he knows the answer.

Y/N inches forward, her lips brushing his, “Almost,”

Harry grins, pulling her in closer, “This could be our life y’know.”

“What could?”

“All this,” He motions to the house, “We have our own house and make our own food. Everyone is safe and we’re happy. Maybe have a couple of kids-”

Y/N scoffs, “A couple?”

“Alright,” Harry chuckles, his head falling back, “One, five, eight or even zero, I don’t care I jus’ wanna be with you.”

“That sounds nice,” Y/N sighed, falling in love with the image she had painted in her mind, “And we’d live here?”

Harry kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek on it as they swayed, “We can live wherever y’ want Birdy, I go where you go.”

Y/N can’t help but pull his neck down to kiss her. Even though they weren’t exactly together, Y/N couldn’t help but kiss him when she wanted to, which was more often than it wasn’t. She’d never tire of the way his lips felt against hers, how she’d melt in his embrace and feel his heart beating against his chest.

“Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t mean we’re together,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

“I know Birdy, I know.” He smiles, kissing her even harder.

Harry ends up helping Y/N clean the kitchen, drying the dishes while she washes them. It's a new experience for him, doing something domestic with the person he loves. It feels small and simple yet meant more to him than he could seem to understand.

“Since I’m tryin’ to be better, I gotta tell y’ something,” Harry pinches her sleeve, needing to touch her in some way at all times.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, immediately beginning to worry.

“Oh no it’s nothing so bad, it’s just my Mama sent us a letter a few weeks ago and I think ‘m gonna go visit her without the boys.” He shrugs, “Jus’ to check in on her y’ know?”

Y/N knew Harry didn’t want to admit the truth about his visit. Despite the fact he never had a close relationship with his mother, he had always been her protector. Harry couldn’t stay away from his home no matter how hard he tried, too afraid that if he did, something detrimental would happen and he’d feel nothing but guilt for the rest of his life.

“On your own?” Y/N frowned, “Y’ don’t even want George to come with you?”

“If George goes he’ll jus’ get upset. I probably won’t even tell ‘em I’m going, I jus’ wanna make sure everything is okay. Maybe if I show m’ face she’ll stop sending so many letters every weekend.” His voice carried a mix of concern and weariness.

“Well okay,” Y/N paused for a brief second, “I mean I could come with you, maybe, i-if that’s something you’d want.”

Fear flashed in Harry’s eyes, “No,” He stated firmly, “I’m not letting you anywhere near that old bastard.”

Y/N knew he was referring to his father, “I won’t let you go alone, Harry. It’s either me or one of your brother’s but I will not let you go into that house by yourself.” She wasn’t going to lie and say that she wasn’t afraid for him. She’d never met his Father or truly knew the depths to which he had gone into causing such trauma for Harry but she wasn’t going to allow it to continue. “Please, let me come with you.”

Harry opened his mouth to immediately reject her offer but paused, considering her words carefully. He saw the determination in her eyes, the fierce loyalty she held for him, and it touched something deep within him. He also knew she was stubborn and wouldn’t let up over something like this no matter how much he refused.

After a moment of silence, he sighed, relenting. "Alright," he finally murmured, his voice laced with apprehension. "But promise me, Y/N, you'll stay close and keep your guard up. My old man... he's not an easy man to deal with. We’ll be in and out of tha’ house all in the same day.”

Y/N nodded solemnly, her resolve unwavering, “Thank you,” She said.

. . .

With the days that passed before Harry would return to his childhood town, his fear and anxiety seemed to grow. His nightmares had continued to worsen, each one of them had turned into one about Y/N. On the nights when Y/N slept in her own bed, he found himself walking through the dimmed streets in the middle of the night to sneak into her house and crawl under the covers with her. She’d whisper soft things into his ear, promising that everything he dreamt of was simply just that, but he struggled to believe her as he held her tightly in his arms until the morning arrived.

They took the two-hour train from the station to his home town in Wyoming on the day of the visit. Harry barely spoke a word as he held Y/N’s hand in his lap all the way there. They had decided on wearing somewhat fancy attire. Harry wore tailored trousers with a belt and a white shirt tucked into it, whilst Y/N settled on a new blouse she had yet to wear and a long skirt with kitten heels. They hadn’t spoken it aloud but part of them wanted to show without telling his parents just how well they were doing for themselves.

“Baby,” Harry whispered, nudging Y/N awake after she dozed off on his shoulder, “We’re here now,”

Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering open to the window. Outside was the train station which was really just a raised platform by the train tracks with a small ticket booth nearby. The place was almost deserted, with only a few people stepping off as the train pulled in. Harry grabbed her purse and held Y/N’s hand as they exited the train and stepped onto the platform. It wasn’t long before the train was off again, leaving a bellow of smoke behind.

Glancing around, Y/N noticed how grey Harry’s hometown was. The buildings seemed weathered, and besides the train station, there wasn't much else to see—just a row of buildings housing a grocery store, a clothing shop, and a bank. Everything became increasingly sparse and lifeless the further out of town you ventured, and Harry’s house just so happened to be situated on the outskirts.

When they left the train station, Harry walked to a cab that was already parked outside with no other customers. He opened the door for Y/N to enter first, “Are you okay?” Y/N asked, sensing Harry’s discomfort.

“Y’ know there’s nothing more I wanna do than take y’ back to Offutt right?” His eyes were hard as he stared between the two front seats out of the windshield of the beaten-up vehicle.

"I know," Y/N's voice was quiet, a hint of uncertainty creeping in as she wondered if she had pushed too far by insisting on accompanying him. However, before she could dwell on her thoughts further, he picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to it, reassuring her without words.

Y/N tried not to react too shocked when the vehicle stopped far outside of the town they had entered. In front of them was a house that looked as though it was made out of planks of wood hammered together. There was a front porch with a rocking chair that was rotting away and a clothesline with white sheets blowing in the breeze.

“This is your home?” Y/N wondered, looping her arm with Harry’s when he came up beside her.

“It’s never been m’home,” He replied, lowly.

As they approached the front door, it creaked open before they could even knock. Standing behind it was a woman with the same green eyes Y/N had noticed in each of her children. Her hair was wispy and greying, with streaks of brunette that were a darker shade than Harry’s. She had heavy bags under her eyes and wrinkles all over her face. Her thin lips turned into a smile, her eyes watering as she opened her arms to the man beside Y/N, “My boy,” She croaked.

Harry stiffened when he felt her arms wrap around him, “Mom,” He grumbled.

The woman pulled away and then her eyes turned to Y/N, her smile drooping, “Who’s this?”

Harry opened his mouth to introduce herself but Y/N quickly stepped in, “I’m a friend of your son, we met on the Airbase.” She held her hand out.

Harry’s mother looked down at her hand and then back to Harry, “You’re bringing girls home now? Where are your brothers?”

Harry’s jaw tightened, “They’re not here.”

“And Elise?” She went on.

“She’s back home,”

“This is her home,” His mother argued, “And I’m her mother,”

“We won’t be staying here for long,” Harry said, moving past his mother and stepping into the house. Y/N tried to offer his mother a smile but she just frowned.

The inside of Harry’s childhood home was cold and empty, lacking any hint of life or sign of a whole family living here for well over ten years. Bits of furniture littered the house here and there, each individual piece looked battered and beaten.

“Are you staying for dinner at least Harry? I’ve been cooking all afternoon,” His mother walked to the small kitchen and started stirring a pot that was already cooking on the stove.

Harry looked down at Y/N, “We can stay,” She told him even though she knew he didn’t like the idea, she didn’t want to let his mother’s cooking go to waste.

“M taking Y/N to m’ room,” Harry grumbled, unwilling to wait for his mother to say anything.

Y/N followed him to a small room near the living room. It was no bigger than an average old pantry, containing only a small, single bed and a little chair and table tucked into the corner. Above the bed hung a mobile adorned with wooden planes painted blue, dangling gently. Y/N reached out and held one of the jagged wooden planes in her palm.

The corners of her lips turned upwards as she examined it, wondering if Harry’s love for planes stemmed from a young age. Turning round to face him, she fell back onto his bed and sighed, “Come lay with me,” Her hand dangled from the bed, her fingers reaching out to brush his.

Harry shook his head but fell onto the bed beside her, his feet dangling off the end. It was so small that Y/N had to practically lay on top of him, her chin resting on his chest as she looked up at him. She brushed some of his hair out of his face, “How are you feeling?” She checked in.

“Strange,” He murmurs, “Seeing you in this house made me realise how foreign this place is to me now. You’re home and this is just… Something I don’t want in my life anymore.”

Y/N’s gaze softens, “Your mom never told me her name, I don’t think she likes me very much.”

Harry’s hand slides up her back to play with the ends of her hair, “She doesn’t like anyone really but her name’s Debbie if y’ must know.”

“Debbie,” Y/N replies, her voice soft, “Hey, if things get uncomfortable we can go, just say the word.”

Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude at her calming, understanding nature, “Thank you for being here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Y/N teased and Harry laughed, the sound echoing in the darkened room of his childhood.

Despite Debbie’s cold attitude towards her, Y/N still tried to make an effort by helping set the table for dinner. In the corner of her eye, she caught Harry fussing over his mother when he saw her hands were all scathed from being outside every day as she poured stew into each bowl. The image made her eyes glisten with tears that threatened to fall until she blinked them away.

As they placed each bowl of stew on the table, a thud sounded from outside and then the squeak of the hinges on the front door as it swung open. Y/N’s heart stopped as Harry paced towards her, moving her behind him as an old man stumbled in. She grabbed Harry’s sleeve, peeking past him to see a man with hazel eyes and balding, grey hair. His face was wrinkled and scruffy, his nose red but his face gaunt. His footsteps were heavy against the wooden floorboards, with every inhale of his breath he seemed to suck out the warmth from the house.

His eyes fell on Harry and then to Y/N, “Hello boy,” His voice sounded like gravel as he spoke.

“Old man,” Harry’s voice was something Y/N had never heard from him before. It felt like he was trying to control all of his anger whilst also trying not to show his fear. She squeezed his arm a little, hoping it would give him some reassurance.

“Nice to know you’ve remembered your family,” He sniffled, closing the door behind him.

“Y’ make it hard to forget,” Harry replied.

Debbie walked in between them like it was something she had done many times before whenever there was tension, “Jack, you’re just in time for dinner.” She was much too cheery but it felt hollow and insincere, “Harry’s friend is joining us from that camp they’re staying at.”

Jack glanced at Debbie with a flicker of annoyance before turning his attention back to Harry and Y/N. "Well, aren't we all just one big happy fuckin’ family," he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Y/N felt the tension in the room thicken, a silent battle unfolding between the family members. She exchanged a knowing glance with Harry, silently urging him to stay composed.

Ignoring Jack's jab, Debbie gestured towards the dining table. "Come on, let's sit down and eat. I've made your favourite, Jack," she said.

Sitting at the table, Jack's presence felt heavy in the room. Y/N looked at Harry, silently showing her support. She knew dinner would be tricky, but she was committed to being there for Harry. She held his hand under the table and squeezed. Harry rubbed his thumb over the pulse point on her wrist in order to relax himself.

It was just dinner and they’d be going home straight afterwards. Home to his real family, where it was safe and he was most loved.

Debbie came out of the kitchen with two cans of beer and placed them in front of Jack before sitting beside him. He cleared his throat as he opened both cans, “Where are y’ brothers?”

“Not here,” Harry spoke, lowly.

“Don’t get funny with me boy, where are they?”

“I already told you.” Y/N jumped when Jack’s hand smacked down on the table, Harry’s hand squeezing her in assurance like this was a normal reaction to have.

“You’ve left y’ brothers at that camp and bought this random whore here?” He spat.

“Don’t call her that,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t even know her fuckin’ name and y’ bought her into my house?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but Y/N interrupted him, “My name is Y/N,” She said, her eyes hard, “And if that’s how you speak to someone you don’t know Mr Styles, I hate to see how you speak to those you do.”

Y/N could feel all eyes on her at the dinner table but she ignored them, acting as though what she said didn’t matter, as she tucked into the stew that was in front of her. “Next time you come back here,” Jack gruffed, “Y’ bring your brother’s. Much prefer them here anyway.”

This time it was Y/N’s turn to feel a bubble of anger rising within her, “Don’t want no more whores in my house, except y’ mother,” He chuckled, darkly, “She’s the only one allowed here.”

Harry shot up, his chair scraping against the floor, “How fuckin’ dare you,” He spat.

“Sit down,” His Father ordered, refusing to look up at him.

“Harry,” Debbie whispered, tugging on his hand to try and pull him down.

Reluctantly, Harry lowered himself to his seat. His jaw clenched as he stole a glance at Y/N, silently grateful for her unwavering support in the face of his family's hostility. He’d refuse to open his mouth for the rest of the dinner, in hopes it would speed things up and they could leave. He was filled with regret that he had allowed Y/N to come to this Hellscape, even more so for even considering it in the first place.

It fell silent- nothing but the scraping of cutlery against plates- until Y/N decided to speak, her anger too much to withhold any longer, “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop calling me that Mr Styles,” Harry must have gotten whiplash from how quickly his head whipped around to look at Y/N as she spoke.

“Say that again,” Jack replied, lowly.

“I said I would appreciate it if you’d stop calling me a whore, it’s rather distasteful.” Y/N dared to look up at him, meeting his lifeless eyes when she did. She felt Harry’s fingers squeeze hers but she refused to break eye contact with the only man who she had ever hated before even meeting him.

“Distasteful? What are y’ a slut from Preston?”

“No,” Y/N continued, “I’m not a whore or a slut from Preston and if you knew me or your own son, you’d know he wouldn’t dare bring someone with the likes of you home with him.”

Rage flashed in Jack’s eye, “Why you little-”

Harry rose to his feet as Jack raised his hand in the air, bracing himself for the impending blow. But before Jack could strike, Y/N intervened. "The fact that you assume so little about me, Mr. Styles, is your first mistake," Y/N declared, her voice unwavering. "Truthfully, I know people. Put a hand on me, and I'll go straight to my father. He's a doctor, you see—a very important one who knows a lot of important people. One of his patients just so happens to be the Governor. Do you know the Governor, Mrs. Styles?" Y/N directed a smile at the timid lady sitting opposite her, who blinked in response and quickly nodded her head.

"As much as I hate throwing around big names, sometimes it pays to know people more powerful than those who assume they have it all," Y/N continued, her gaze steady on Jack. "Wouldn't you say, Mr. Styles?"

Y/N stood up from the table as Jack’s jaw clenched, biting his tongue to stop from speaking. She grabbed Harry’s hand and intertwined their fingers, “To answer your question, your sons are at Offutt Air Base not camp. It’s their home where their older brother raised them along with that little girl you both abandoned. You can assume I’m a whore or a slut or whatever you think I am however much you like Mr Styles but I will not let you sit there and strip all of the love your son has shown to your children when you weren’t willing to give them anything.”

“Thank you for the dinner Mrs Styles but we’re leaving,” Y/N looked up at Harry who was already looking at her with nothing but pride all over his face, “I’m sorry Harry but I can’t stay here anymore.”

He nodded, following her out of the house but stopping when his father stood in front of him. Y/N gasped when Harry raised his arm and punched his father straight across the face. Jack groaned, cupping his nose as blood began to drip from it. Harry gripped his shirt in a fist, “Call my wife a whore again and I’ll fucking end you.” He spat, pushing him away.

Y/N and Harry ignored his mother as she fretted about his now injured Father, walking out of the house.

As soon as they stepped off the porch, Harry pulled Y/N to the side of the house where they were shielded from view and pressed her against the wall. His lips met hers eagerly, his hands cradling her face as her eyes fluttered shut. "You called me your wife," she breathed between kisses.

"Easy mistake," he replied quickly before his lips seeked hers once more.

Once they pulled away, their chests heaving and Harry’s lips tinged pink from Y/N’s lipstick, the biggest grin stretched across his face, his eyes sparkling more than she had ever seen before, “I didn’t think I could love you any more than I did.”

Y/N’s eyes watered, a mixture of love and the come down from the adrenaline that had fueled her in the last few moments all began to hit her at once, “You are everything to me,” He murmured, “Everything.”

"I love you too, Harry.” Y/N leapt into his arms, wrapping herself around him and refusing to let go.

After leaving the house, it felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted, as though a burdensome weed had been plucked from their lives. The air seemed lighter, and even the moon appeared to shine a bit brighter overhead. As they walked, Y/N couldn't help but notice the peace reflected in Harry's eyes whenever he glanced up at the sky.

Though it wasn't the end, it felt like the first step towards releasing the things that brought no good into Harry's life. With Harry's arm lazily draped over her shoulder and hers around his waist, they stumbled down the street, unable to find a taxi or any passing vehicles to take them back to the train station. To outsiders, they might have seemed like a drunken couple, but in reality, they were simply two people deeply in love and, for that moment, they felt truly free—and that feeling was even better.

They boarded the last train back to Offutt that night, and Harry was adamant about keeping Y/N close. Despite the empty carriage, he insisted she sit with him, to the point where she was practically sitting on his lap.

As Y/N grew tired, Harry allowed her to rest her head in his lap while she stretched out across the seats. He gently played with her hair and traced the contours of her face. "Can I show you something when we get back?" he whispered. Although exhausted, and longing to simply fall asleep with him in her bed, she nodded in agreement.

Y/N giggled as Harry skipped ahead, the smile on his face had yet to be replaced as he led her to the warehouses at the airbase. “C’mon slowpoke,” Harry called much too loudly for this time of night.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Y/N shook her head, her cheeks aching from smiling so much.

Keys jangled in his back pocket as he pulled out a chain that had too many keys for Y/N to count dangling from it. He plucked one out and put it into the padlock that was keeping a lock on the large, metal doors to one of the hangars where the planes were kept.

The doors clanked open as Harry pulled them apart enough for them to walk through. The light from the moon slipped through the gap, creating a dim light within the hangar. Harry switched on the lights in the panel on the side and the whole room lit up. Y/N followed Harry as he took her to the back of the warehouse where some of the planes which needed fixing up were kept.

He stopped in front of a single-engine propellor aeroplane, painted blue with white stripes. It had a cockpit with a glass canopy and seated two people inside. Y/N frowned, “Is this what you wanted to show me?” Living on an airbase, she’d obviously seen plenty of planes that were different variations of the one in front of her so she was unsure what she was meant to be looking at that had got Harry so excited.

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. He came up behind her and placed both his hands over her eyes to cover them. She stumbled as he nudged her forwards towards the side of the plane, “We’ve been working on this for a while and me and the boys have been struggling to give it a name. It was only until I met you that I realised what the perfect name for it was.” Harry removed his hands from her eyes, Y/N’s eyes squinting to adjust to the light until they focused on a word written in yellow on the side of the plane.

Birdy.

Y/N’s lips parted, walking up to touch the yellow font to see if it was real. She turned on her heel, eyes watering, “You named a plane after me?”

Harry bit back a grin, eyes twinkling, “Of course I did,” He whispered, “Need you with me all the time, now I can have you in the air too.”

“Oh Harry,” She sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck, “It’s wonderful,”

“Yeah? Y’ like it darling?” He kissed the top of her head.

“I love it,” She sighed, her eyes darting to the cockpit, “Can we sit in it?”

“Course,” Harry helped her up the little ladder and into the cockpit, before sitting in the spot next to her. “The electrics aren’t on so if y’ touch anything it won’t move.” Y/N’s hands pressed some of the buttons, still unable to believe she had a plane named after her.

Harry smiled watching her and then leaned in to kiss her. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and Harry deepened it, his tongue sliding into her mouth and his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. “Harry,” Y/N breathed, her eyes fluttering shut as he began to kiss down her neck.

“This is for you baby. There ain’t nobody else for me,” He whispered, “and I don’t want anybody else.”

His fingers brushed down the skin of her arms as her head rolled to the side. He kissed the base of the column of her neck, “You love me?” He asks, voice raspy.

“I do,” Y/N hums, her hands all over his clothed torso gripping the fabric in tight fists.

“How much,” Y/N gasped as his fingers played with the buttons of her blouse before he slowly undid the first one. He pressed his lips to her collarbones as he continued on the next button.

Y/N’s hands fell to the buckle of his belt, tugging on the metal to pull him closer. With every inch of skin that was revealed, Harry would place a small kiss there like he was worshipping every inch. Y/N could feel his breath fan over the top of her breasts as he got to the middle button, “C’mon baby, how much?” He taunted.

His hand slid up her back under her shirt to the clasp of her bra, “Tell me how much y’ love me and I’ll make y’ feel good hmm? Is that what y’ want birdy?”

Y/N nodded, “So much Harry, so much.”

“What?” Harry grinned, “Y’ love me so much or y’ want me so much?”

“Both,” Y/N gasped, “Please,”

Harry’s lips mould with hers as he uses both hands to remove her blouse, the buttons flying everywhere. Y/N’s hands fumble to remove his belt as Harry tugs his own shirt off hurriedly. His hands are hot against her body as he unclips the clasp of her bra, “So beautiful,” He says, in awe.

Y/N’s cheeks heat at the compliment. His hand splays across her bag, his pinky finger digging into the hem of her skirt as he continues to kiss her deeply. “Harry, I-” Her face feels hot as she stops herself, feeling too embarrassed to ask the question.

“What is it darling?” He cups her cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.

She looks up at him, her eyes round and full of lust, she cups the bulge of his dick through his trousers in her hand, “Please?” She whines.

“Y’ wanna suck on m’ cock sweet girl?” He smirks, seeing her get all flustered as she nods quickly. She’s already trying to unbuckle his belt before he has time to say anything else. Her eyes widened when his cock springs out of his boxers, she still couldn’t get over how big he was as she wrapped two hands around the thick girth and pumped up and down.

Harry groaned, feeling her hands wrapped around him. She pulled away to sit up on her knees in the seat, tucking her hair behind her ears and bending forward. Harry’s head falls back against the headrest as she puts one hand at the base of his cock and kisses the tip. “So big,” She murmurs.

“Gonna take it in y’ pretty mouth baby?” Harry taunts in a playful tone.

Y/N sucks on the tip, her eyes closing as she tastes him for the first time. Gradually she takes him deeper, inch by inch, her tongue sliding against the thick vein of his cock as she does. “Good girl,” Harry praises her, grabbing her hair and holding it in a fist.

She stops when the tip hits the back of her throat, using her hand to jerk off what she couldn’t take in her mouth. Harry groans when Y/N gags and pulls away to catch her breath, “Careful baby,” He squeezes her cheeks together and forces her to look at him. Seeing her red, glossy lips and hazy eyes, drool falling from the corner of her mouth from how big he was, almost made him cum right there. He wiped his thumb over her chin and kissed her, “Doing so good my girl,” He murmured against her lips.

As she goes back to mouthing at his cock, he can’t help but run a hand down her back and squeeze her ass beneath her skirt. Y/N makes a sound that sends vibrations down his cock and he knew she’d have to stop before he came down her throat, “Need to be inside y’ baby,' ' Harry spoke.

Y/N’s pops him out of her mouth, “Are y’ gonna fuck me now?” Her big doe eyes look up at him. She almost looked innocent if it weren’t for his cock in her fist.

“Yeah darling girl, M gonna love on y’ now.” He tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

Y/N's hands tangled in his curls as she adjusted herself to lay back on the seats. Harry’s lips parted as he looked down at her, her chest heaving and her nipples pebbling under his gaze. He ran a hand through his hair, the glass canopy around them fogging up with their breaths.

Harry swallowed, moving on top of her and holding himself up with his hands pressed into the plush seat beneath. Y/N’s legs parted for him to rest between them, her hands going to his back, fingers digging into the hard muscle.

“Are y’ okay?” Harry murmured, brushing some of the hair from her face.

Y/N smiled, “I’m fine,”

Y/N could feel his hardened length on the inside of her thigh as he pulled her skirt up and revealed her white panties. Harry tutted, “Did sucking me off make y’ this wet baby?” He asked, his fingers moving her panties to the side to reveal her dripping cunt.

Harry’s fingers dipped between her folds, brushing over her clit to collect some of her wetness before smearing it all over her pussy. His hand travelled down, smearing her juices over the tip of his cock before he lined himself up with her.

“Y’know, I don’t think I ever apologised properly for what I did that day,” He pressed open mouthed kisses a long her jawline as the tip of his cock teased her entrance, “What do y’ say darling girl? Y’gonna let me be good and fuck my apology into you?”

Y/N’s hips bucked into him, “Mhmm,”

Looping her arms around his neck, Y/N’s lips parted as Harry eased himself into her. She was suddenly reminded of just how big he was as he moved further and further inside of her until he bottomed out and she could feel every inch of him as she clamped around him, “S’ good,” She hummed, her eyes fluttering open and closed.

“Yeah?” Harry chuckled, kissing her quickly, “M nice and snug? Can y’ feel me in y’ baby?”

Y/N nodded, grabbing his hand and spreading out his fingers to press them against her tummy, “Feel you here,” She sighed.

Harry kissed her forehead, “Y’ like that?”

“The best,” She smiled, lazily.

“Made just f’ me that’s why,” Harry smirked.

Slowly, Harry began to slide in and out of her, taking his time knowing this moment was different to their first time. It was softer- gentle even. Y/N whines, feeling all of him against the walls of her pussy. Harry groans when he sees her stomach bulge when he moves back in her - a sight he could never overcome no matter how hard he tried.

“Y’ fucking perfect Y/N. Feels so good.” Harry’s voice wavered as he felt himself get lost in the feeling of her.

As his hips moved faster, the closer he was to his release. He held her hips, glancing down to see his cock moving in and out of her. He feels her pussy clenching tightly around him, signifying she was close to her release too.

“Am I making my girl feel good? Hmmm?” He presses his nose against her cheek as her head falls to the side. “M’ best girl, lovin’ me the way you do, how’d I get so lucky?” Y/N couldn’t seem to find the words to reply, her body writhing beneath him.

Harry pressed his hand down on her tummy, the added pressure making her groan, “Y’ gonna have my babies in there one day?”

“Yes,” Y/N gasps as he fucks her harder.

“Yeah? Gonna have all my kids and be a pretty little housewife?” Y/N whimpers, her hands scratching down his back. “I love y’ so much.” He whispers.

“Love you,” Y/N slurred.

Harry’s hand begins to rub at her clit, the added sense of pleasure filling her entire body with heat that only continued to build the more he pumped his heavy dick inside of her. Y/N feverishly craned her neck to kiss him, needing that extra physical touch.

“Y’ gonna let me cum in you, darling girl?” Harry murmured, his voice shaking.

“Please cum in me Harry,” Y/N’s eyes blurred as the bubble of heat burst in her belly.

With a final thrust, Harry released a heavy groan as his cock filled her insides with his cum. Y/N’s back arched into him as her breath caught in her throat, her eyes rolling back when she came around him at the same time.

Harry fell on top of Y/N, his sweaty forehead against her chest. She lazily moved her hand to his hair, running her fingers through his soft curls. Harry puckered his lips to press a kiss right where her heart was beating erratically.

A silence fell around them as they tried to catch their breaths, “Have y’ forgiven me yet?” Harry murmured, his hands tracing patterns on her hip.

"I think I forgave you ages ago; I just wanted to punish you a little," Y/N admitted, a truth she had realised for a while now.

"I deserved it," Harry agreed.

"You did," Y/N acknowledged.

“But I’ll be better. For you, I’ll be anything but I’ll always try to be better,” He looked up.

Y/N cupped his face, “I don’t need you to be anything but you.”

Harry kissed her palm, “Thank you… For it all.”

. . .

“Are you nervous?” Patsy asked as the girls sat on top of the hill on a picnic blanket.

“A little,” Y/N lied, she had hardly been able to sit still since this morning.

“Hey,” Molly smoked a cigarette, “These boys have done this plenty of times, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“I just hope it all goes well, they’ve been working months on this.” Y/N’s eyes darted around to see if she could spot him.

Elise sat on the picnic blanket in a diaper, chewing on her fingers and making noises. Molly swooped her up in her arms as she stood, “What do you think Elise? Will your brothers actually do something smart?” Molly cooed.

Patsy hit her shoulder lightly, “Don’t be so mean,”

Y/N’s ears pricked as she heard the sound of an engine in the distance. She removed her sunglasses, trying to see where the source of the sound was coming from. “Look!” Patsy pointed towards the thing moving in the blue sky.

Y/N’s caught sight of the blue plane flying in the air, if she squinted enough she could see the yellow spelling of her nickname on the side, “He’s there!” Y/N laughed in disbelief, “He’s there!”

The plane flew closer and Y/N could make out Harry sitting in the cockpit with George beside him. All the girls waved, Elise giggling as they jumped up and down. Y/N took her hat off and started waving it around to try and catch Harry’s attention.

His head turned and a huge grin spread across his face as he saw her wearing a red dress just like she had told him she would after he told her they’d be flight testing the plane again and he wanted her to be there to watch.

“Will you be able to see me on the ground?” Y/N asked as she sat atop his worktop whilst he worked on the plane, her legs swinging backwards and forwards.

“It depends on how close y’ are. I can’t really see that well when ‘m flying high up.” He tells her.

“Hmm,” Y/N thinks, “What if I wear something colourful? Will y’ be able to see me then?”

Harry bites back a smile, “Maybe,” He shrugs, coming up to stand between her legs. He leans forward to kiss her, “Why? Y’ planning on wearing something special for me Birdy?”

Y/N bites her lip, her eyes sparkling, “Possibly.”

“C’mon,” Patsy snatched the blanket off the grass, “They’re going to land soon,”

The girls headed back to the runway where the plane would land. They could already see Sonny looking through his bicolours. Patsy waved, running towards him and falling into his arms. “Did y’ see?” He looked down at her, happiness all over his face.

“It’s great baby,” Patsy kissed him.

Y/N watched as the plane descended, growing bigger against the sky. With a rumble, the wheels made contact with the ground, the plane gradually slowing down as it ran down the runway. Everyone ran towards the plane as Harry lifted the glass chamber and hopped out with George coming round the other side.

Cheers sounded through the air from everybody. Harry’s eyes immediately met Y/N’s, his hands reaching out to catch her in his arms. She leapt into his embrace, moulding her lips against his, “That was incredible!” She squealed when they pulled away.

“Yeah?” Harry was trying to remain calm but she could tell he was proud of what he and his brothers had achieved today, “Y’ proud of me?”

“So unbelievably proud,” Y/N spoke, her eyes radiating the truth in her words.

“Ha, Ha!” Elise squealed for her brother.

Harry’s smile widened into a grin as Molly placed Elise into his arms, “Did you see that Elise?” He kissed her chubby cheek, “Did y’ see your brother flying?”

Elise just babbled in response.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Harry and Elise, joining in the embrace. At that moment, surrounded by the people he cared about most, Harry knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be. With a contented smile, he squeezed Y/N's hand, silently thanking her for always believing in him.

“Hey have any of you seen-” George glanced around before his eyes landed on someone in the distance, “There she is,” He murmured to himself.

Everyone watched as he ran towards a woman standing by the entrance of the warehouse, “Is that Nancy?” Molly held a hand over her eyes to block the sun so she could get a better look at them.

“Hey, I think it is,” Patsy agreed, her eyebrows furrowing.

Y/N looked up at Harry who just shrugged.

. . .

The same evening, the Styles’ house was filled to the brim with people who had come over for their house party, celebrating the success of today. Elise was staying at a family’s house since the party would most definitely be going on well into the night.

Y/N observed Harry from across the room as he engaged in conversation with his pilot friends as she sipped on a cocktail Patsy had given her. She had no idea what was in it but she drank it anyway, knowing it was probably better not to ask. Every so often, their eyes would meet, and a smile would pass between them as they communicated in a language only they knew.

She noticed his lips were still tinged red from the lipstick she had kissed him with as they got ready for the house party. Y/N had offered to wipe it away for him but he liked the idea of people knowing he had been kissing you just by looking at the colour of his lips and yours.

Y/N’s heart felt so at peace as she glanced around the room and spotted each member of her found family. Her life had been so grey and mundane until she came to Offutt where everything changed and love had given her a whole new palette of colours.

It had been hard and full of ups and downs but it was worth it, every second of time was worth it.

She felt a presence come up beside her and turned expecting to see Molly or Patsy but was surprised to see Nancy standing there, leaning against the wall next to her. “It’s funny, I’ve been here longer than you and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone look at somebody the way Harry looks at you.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, “Thank you? I’m not-”

“Listen,” Nancy turned to face her, “I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “W-what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” Nancy turned away again, “I was a bitch and I liked Harry but not for the same reasons you do. I should have stood up for you and him the night of the bonfire when that asshole came and spoke to you but once again I was a bitch and quite honestly I probably still am a bitch but I’ve met someone who I really like and I’m trying to be better.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Nancy-”

“I totally get it if you hate me and I don’t expect to be friends with you but George is Harry’s brother so we’re probably going to be seeing more of each other and-”

“Nancy,” Y/N interrupted her rambling, “It’s okay,”

Nancy’s shoulders dropped, “Really? You don’t hate me?”

“I’ve never hated you, I just haven’t particularly liked you but I think that could change if we truly got to know each other.” Y/N shrugged.

Nancy's eyes widened with surprise, hope flickering in them. "You mean that?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Y/N nodded, offering a small smile. “If you're George’s sister then one day we might be sister-in-laws and that would make things awfully strange if we didn’t get on, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Nancy huffed, “Those boys sure do need a break from family drama. I mean there’s some serious daddy issues in that family.”

Y/N laughed, it was the first thing they both had ever agreed on, “You can say that again.”

Nancy's face lit up with relief and gratitude. "Thank you," she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion, “I-I’ve never been good at having friends and I truly am sorry for being so horrible. If it helps, I guess you managed to prove me wrong, I think I even proved myself wrong with the way things are now.”

Y/N reached out and squeezed Nancy's hand reassuringly, “It’s all okay.”

Nancy and Y/N spoke for a little longer. Giggling as they compared their boyfriend’s habits with one another until George came over and whisked Nancy away.

A hand snaked around Y/N’s waist, her gaze falling on those ring-clad fingers. She turned to look up at those beautiful, green eyes, “Hi Harry,”

“Hi Birdy,” He whispered, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips and then back up again. “Y making friends?”

“I’m trying,” She grinned.

“Good to know,” He smirked and then held out his hand, sliding his fingers to thread with hers, “Y wanna dance with me?”

“M not very good you know,” She had told him plenty of times before.

“S just swaying,” He repeated the words he said to her the first time they danced together.

Y/N laughed softly as Harry pulled her closer, their bodies swaying gently to the smooth jazz music filling the room. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, Y/N relaxed into his embrace, letting the music wash over them. In that moment, as they moved together, there was nowhere else she'd rather be than in the arms of the pilot she pictured spending the rest of her life with.

"What are you thinking in there?" Harry tapped the side of her head with the pad of his finger.

Y/N hummed, "I'm just happy,"

"Yeah? You are?"

"Yeah," Y/N sighed, resting her head against his heart, “I love you, Harry, so much,” Y/N murmured.

“I love you too Birdy,” Harry leaned down to brush his lips with hers, “Bigger than the whole sky.”

taglist:

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princessofmarvel · 9 months

Text

saving goes both ways

summary | thomas had seen the girl around. she worked at the garrison, showed up one random day, no one knew where she was from. most people didn’t bat an eye, most people aren’t thomas shelby.

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 1.2k

genre | fluff! with just a tad of angst!

warnings! | mentions of an abusive family and ex! (it’s just mentioned, nothing is really described), not completely proofread! author’s note! | i’m back! my requests are open for these characters! please send in your requests for blurbs, headcanons, or imagines! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Thomas had seen the girl around. She worked at the garrison, showed up one random day, no one knew where she was from. Most people didn’t bat an eye, most people aren’t Thomas Shelby.

“We’re closed” she said as he walked through the door. He ignored her for the most part and set down.

“Get me a drink.” he practically mumbled, to anyone else that would mean to just do as he says, and not ask questions. Not her though.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Shelby?” She asked in the kind of voice one would use to come off as caring.

“Just need to not think for a moment.” He said as she finished pouring his drink. “Where did you come from?”

“What do you mean?” She asked him with a slight head tilt as she handed his drink to him.

“You showed up out of nowhere one day, no one knows anything about you.”

“Are you asking about me, Mr. Shelby?”

“Yes, I am, I need to know the people in this town, who my threats may be.” He said while taking a sip of the drink she poured for him, and keeping eye contact, something he did to be intimidating.

“Do I look like a threat to you?” She asked with a small laugh. She looked like the most terrifying threat that Thomas could think of. She looked like an angel, one that was sent just for him, Thomas could swear that when she smiled she glowed.

“I have learned that the most non threatening looking people can become the most deadly.” He said while not phasing one bit. “Now, where are you from?”

The girl sighed, Thomas could tell that wherever it was that she came from that she didn’t really want to relive it. “I’m from london”

A few weeks went by, and that seemed to be all the information that he could get out of her. That she was from London. He didn’t want to push her, everytime he asked her, she got a look in her eyes that he hated to see, as if it tore his heart into a thousand little pieces. He knew that no matter what it was, someone, or something had hurt her, and how anyone could hurt such a person was beyond Thomas.

One afternoon while everyone other than Thomas was out of the Shelby home, there was a sudden banging on the door.

“Who is- (Y/n)?” Thomas asked while pulling the girl into the home. Once he had her inside with the door shut he took in her appearance. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying for days. She looked almost sick, as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Her hair was messy, and she was shaking from head to toe. “What’s wrong?”

“I- Oh Mr. Shelby, if you were about to head out, I can leave. I shouldn't have barged in.” She said as she noticed him taking his jacket back off. She went to leave, but Thomas grabbed her wrist.

“I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what happened.” He said while looking at her sternly. He led her to sit on the couch while he stood over her, waiting to hear what happened.

“I haven’t told you much about my family, but I come from a wealthy family in London, and they wanted me to marry this cruel, cruel man, so the night before the wedding I ran, and that's how I ended up here, but I think they’ve found me.” She said while handing him a flier with a drawing of her face, and a man's contact information on it, and a reward of $5,000 on it for anyone that had any information.

“This is the name of the cruel man that you were talking about?” Thomas asked her while he pointed to the name on the flier as she nodded. “Where are you staying?”

“A small inn not too far from here.” She said while trying to wipe her eyes but failing at it since she was still crying.

“Get your things, you’re staying here, and I’ll take care of it.” He said, while putting his jacket back on.

“Mr. Shelby, I can‘t do that, I have no money to pay you for this, or the rent.” She said while standing up , but Thomas cut her off.

“You don’t have to pay me for any of it, just come on, and we’ll go get your things.” He said while guiding her out of the house, and walking with her to her inn.

A week went by and the girl was now living with the Shelbys, and it was safe to say that they loved having her around. Ada loved having a girl other than Polly to talk to. John and Arthur had a great time teaching her how to play cards the correct way (and showing her how to shoot a gun, but Thomas didn’t need to know about that). Polly loved how she helped keep the boys in their places when they got too rowdy. And, Thomas loved, well everything.

She was in the kitchen, kicking Arthur and Johns’ asses at cards, when Thomas walked in.

“Tommy, she's cheating!” John yelled while pointing at her.

“I am not!” She yells back at John in a tone that makes her sound offended.

“She isn’t, you’re just awful at cards.” Thomas said to John, while he looked at the girls cards. “Lucky for you though, I need to steal her for a moment.”

Thomas takes the girl into the betting room since no one was currently there. “I just wanted to tell you that it’s been taken care of.” He says while leaning back on the table.

“Really?! Oh Mr. Shelby, thank you so much!” The girl said while practically bouncing up and down, making Thomas crack a small smile, but it quickly disappeared as she made her next comment.

“I will just get my things, and be out of your hair, thank you so much for letting me stay here, Mr. Shelby.” She said while looking at him, with a small smile.

“You don’t have to move out.”

“Oh, but I can’t do that to your family.”

“(Y/n)” Thomas said, making her stop. He made his way across the room to her. “The whole family loves having you here, besides, it’s not like the entire city doesn’t already see you as a Shelby.”

“The city sees me as a Shelby?” The girl questioned with a slight smile on her face.

“They might as well, I mean it’s not like one of us Shelby brothers are not going to officially make you one at some point.” He said to her, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just depends on which one of us is your preference.”

“Well, I think I have a preference.” She said to him, while leaning slightly closer to him,

“Which one?” he said, looking straight at her.

“The one standing in front of me. The man that saved me” She said to him, looking up at him with a smile.

Thomas stared at her for just a moment, before taking her face in his hands and catching his lips with hers. She kissed him back, with her hands on the back of his neck.

“I think you’re saving us too, I’ve never seen the family so happy.” He mumbled into her lips as he pulled away

“Well, I guess it can go both ways.” She said to him while smiling at him, and for the first time, she felt completely safe.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #cillian murphy #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fic #tommy shleby fic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby angst #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby peaky blinders #tommy shelby peaky blinders #peaky blinders

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assassinsblade · 2 months

Text

In the Blood

Eris has been subjected to Beron's physical punishments his entire life. But now a new form of punishment forces him to live through his nightmares, and the heir to the Autumn Court finds himself fearing more than just a punch to the jaw: you.

WC: 4k

Warnings: Oof, we've got a lot. Blood, violence, injuries, death, gore, angst, suicidal thoughts, and domestic abuse.

Eris stared at you from across the table, his amber eyes alight with fire. It was not a look that held contempt or hate but instead one of observation, as if you were an animal he was enjoying learning about. You tried to tamper down the nerves such a look ignited in your chest, instead averting your guys to your high lord.

Rhys spoke with a calming voice. "We wished to meet with the Autumn Court to discuss the threat of Koschei."

Rhysand was no fool. He knew of Beron's misdeeds—of the way the man schemed in his own court, swearing loyalty to those wreaking havoc on Prythian. And the high lord eyed the ruler of Autumn, ready to track each and every one of his lies.

"This is not a threat the Night Court takes lightly. We do not wish to have another war like Hybern, so we want to be proactive. Have you seen what could be coming to our lands, what destruction is threatened?"

Beron leaned back in his chair arrogantly. "I've seen some."

"Then you know that we should have allies to ensure Koschei does not infiltrate our courts. I assume you would like to keep the Autumn Court safe, no?"

Beron grunted. Eris tensed at the sound, as if he were holding himself back from reacting, from responding to Rhysand's question himself.

"The Autumn Court is strong enough to defend itself," Beron finally responded.

A slow smile grew on Rhys' face, and you couldn't help the thrill that went through you as you watched your friend in his element. Power drifted off of him in waves, daring Beron to deny him. Violet eyes gleamed with confidence. "I think we know by now that is not always true."

Sneering, Beron pounced forward, slamming his palms onto the table. You flinched at the sudden movement, and you caught Eris' body slanting toward you out of the corner of your eye. You willed your rapid heartbeat to slow, reminding yourself of the reassuring presence of both Cassian and Azriel behind you.

"The Autumn Court does not need help from bastards like the lot of you."

You sensed Eris swallow at his father's words. A hesitant clearing of his throat followed, but his voice was surprisingly confident when he spoke. "Father, perhaps we should consider their offer. The Autumn Court can only serve you as long as there is an Autumn Court and High Lord to serve."

"You will not speak out of turn, boy."

The booming voice had you tensing once again, and the Illyrians behind you stepped closer on instinct, hands resting on their weapons. Eris stayed unnaturally still in his own chair. The previous fire in his eyes smoldering as if he did not regret speaking up but knew it was a poor decision nonetheless. You tried to remain expressionless despite the tension in the room.

It was difficult when you couldn't stop wondering how Eris fared in his own court. When he had tried to help and been immediately scolded.

You thought of that moment hours later as you sat at the dinner table in the House of Wind. How Eris had tensed as if preparing for a blow of some sort. How his eyes burned out, looking toward the future. How he had not spoken again for the rest of the meeting, only lifting his eyes to your own in small moments of quiet.

As you picked up your fork and pushed your food around your plate, you fought the thoughts of the auburn haired male away, wondering why he seemed to keep seeping his way in.

Eris knew when his father had come in with a witch that his punishment would be worse than normal. He had already taken ten lashings for "siding with the enemy" during the meeting with the Night Court, and as he prepared to be released to go tend to his wounds in the privacy of his chambers, his father had escorted an Autumn Court witch into the room.

Beron had claimed he would learn faster with a mental punishment to pair. He had claimed Eris would bite his tongue the next time he thought about questioning his High Lord. That the next time a word went to leave his mouth, he would remember his time in this room, of the nightmares that plagued him.

Eris hadn't understood what his father had meant. Not until the witch was chanting and his head was throbbing in pain.

Then his vision was gone and he was standing on a beautiful rooftop, stars shining above his head, and the moon bright above the mountains. Velaris, he reminded himself. This was the home of the true Night Court. Your home.

And you were there. Your beautiful eyes twinkling from the night sky and from the joy of being among your friends and family. Your olive colored dress flowed whimsically with each of your movements, and his eyes floated between the fabric and the open skin revealing itself in the slits near your ribs and leg.

The dress was Autumn Court colors. He swallowed hard at the observation.

When he reached your eyes again, they were no longer twinkling with happiness. Instead, they were hardened, angry, and they were looking into his own. Your smile was gone, and you were quick to dismiss yourself from your friends to march over to where he was standing, placing your glass of champagne on a nearby table on the way.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

As disheartening as it was to hear your voice so terse when directed toward him, his heart still skipped a beat. He had never spoken to you directly before. Instead, finding it safer to keep his distance and interact with the other members of the inner circle. That way, he could still keep up the cold front.

"I'm . . . " He tried to think of an excuse as to what he was doing in the Night Court. During Starfall of all times. "Rhysand invited me as a way to show trust in our alliance."

Your brows furrowed with irritation. "I highly doubt that. He knows. He knows what you are to me and how I feel about it."

Eris' stomach dropped, his mouth suddenly going dry. Since when did you know?

Heels clicked on the ground as you took a step closer, looking up at him with your chin up. "We both know the Mother was cruel to pair me with you as a mate. Did you honestly think you could make us forget about everything you have done? Did you think you deserved a mate after everything you have done?"

His heart beat hard in his chest, and he gritted his teeth as he attempted to breathe through the pain in his chest. Each of your words struck harder than the last, stabbing deep into his flesh and twisting at the space his soul was tied to yours.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse and shaky, so unlike the heir to the Autumn Court. "I never thought—"

"—That you would have to face the consequences of your actions? That a female might not feel safe being mated to the male who left her naked friend for dead with a sign nailed to her womb?"

Eris tried to take a step back, tried to distance himself from each of your cruel but truthful words. He couldn't bare it, he had kept his distance all this time so that he wouldn't have to. But he deserved this, he knew. All of your hatred, disgust, anger. At both the Mother and at him.

When you followed his step backward, he braced himself on the railing pressing against his lower spine. You leaned in and your sweet scent of vanilla and the cold air of night hit him like a wall.

"I will never want to be with a male like you."

He nodded. He nodded despite the tears starting to flood his eyes, despite the feeling of his throat closing, despite the nausea threatening to upend his last meal.

But you ignored his acceptance, his willingness to accept your choice, and made sure he knew exactly what you were saying. "I reject this bond in every form. I will reject it in front of your court, in front of my own, and in front of the Mother herself. I will call her a sadist for bonding me to you, and then I will spit on the Cauldron for making such a mistake."

Then you were strutting away, your dress flowing all around as you disappeared down the stairs to the streets below.

It took every ounce of self control and rationality left in Eris' body to stop himself from tipping over the railing, from ridding himself of the agony festering in his chest and ridding you of the burden of him.

Instead, he turned his body to face the railing and gripped it tightly between his hands, hanging his head and trying to breathe.

He knew this day would come eventually, but nothing could have prepared him for the pain of living through it.

You hated him. Thought he was a monster. Rejected him.

And he deserved it, didn't he? Had he not done awful things in his past?

He swallowed harshly. He had only ever tried to do his best given the circumstances he was born into, but his best would never be good enough for you.

When his shaking minimized and he felt as if he was getting air in his lungs, he raised his head once again.

The sight might have given him whiplash.

What was previously a starry night with twinkling lights and flutes of champagne was now the Autumn Court throne room with towering statues and the evil High Lord himself waiting to be worshipped.

Eris barely had time to question how he got there before he was spotting the red pool of liquid to the right of the throne, a body laying in it.

A female body. One with faint bruises and bright auburn hair. One that had given him a smile when it had nothing left to give. One that sang him songs when he wanted to give up.

His mother.

Beron sat on his throne with a smug grin, and Eris felt rage burning in his veins.

He moved forward, palms tingling with the need to erupt, but Beron held up a hand nonchalantly, his face morphing into one of boredom.

"I didn't think my eldest son to be so impulsive."

Confusion rushed through him, but then he heard a strangled cry coming from the door to the right. A familiar cry. And the rage and sorrow that had been flowing through him from seeing his dear mother dead was then compounded with panic and fear.

How?

How had Beron found out? How had he gotten you away from Velaris?

Two Autumn Court guards dragged you into the throne room, kicking the backs of your knees until you were kneeling in front of them. Bruises lined your beautiful face, and your lip was split with a deep gash. Eris nearly growled at the sight.

"Ah, she does seem familiar, son. One of the Night Court whores, yes?"

Eris didn't respond. He didn't even move. Not with your life on the line.

"I caught your mother trying to help her escape. Despite what your mother insisted so foolishly, I cannot have my son having stronger ties with another court."

Beron grinned a slimy evil grin and then he was flipping his hand in a small wave, gesturing at someone unseen to Eris. That someone--another guard—brought forth a beautiful handcrafted sword. It gleamed under the lights of the throne room, and Eris' hands twitched with inaction as he studied the sharpened blade.

His father's footsteps echoed as he descended the throne and made his way over to you. His sweet mate, always brave, lifted her chin in defiance as the High Lord studied the sword in front of her.

"I apologize for the Mother leaving you with such a fate, my dear. But of course, you must understand."

Eris was frozen. Frozen as he watched the light leave your eyes as you realized this was it. Frozen as his father tilted his head, savoring your acceptance of defeat. Frozen as the sword was raised high, sparking with light. Frozen as you lifted your head to the ceiling as if sending your soul to the Mother herself. And frozen as the sword came swinging down in a heavy motion, cleaving through your neck with barely any resistance.

Eris was choking. He couldn't breathe. He might have been screaming.

He fell to his knees, barely catching himself before he fell fully over. And then he was heaving, emptying his stomach on the pristine marble floor beneath him, and trying to breathe through his sobs.

No, no, no, no, no.

Not you. Not his mate.

His eyes squeezed shut as he willed a different outcome. Willed the last twenty seconds to go back in time so he could have done something.

The thought of your blood spilling from your neck, of your beautiful beautiful face now rendered in permanent fear, of your body split in two had him nearly self-combusting.

This couldn't be real. This wasn't real. This wasn't real . . .

He didn’t know what he thought, why he lifted his head in some last hope that you had somehow been able to get away, to dodge that death blow. He had seen the sword slide through your skin as if it was nothing, but maybe it was a trick? Some ploy to torture the Autumn Court heir?

But the bond in his chest was dark. It was dark and hollow and empty, and when he lifted his eyes to where you were kneeling, he saw only your torso laying in a large pool of blood, nearly identical to the one surrounding the body of his mother.

He cried. He sobbed and he yelled and he heaved. He reached for your body, wanting to be closer to you, wanting to apologize for being your doom. His fingers reached out, desperate to feel the warmth of your body before it was drained.

But then Beron was stepping in his path. The High Lord towered over where Eris kneeled in pain, and the way the male was standing put your severed head directly in Eris’ sight. It hung from his father’s fingers like it were something as trivial as a lantern.

Eris was going to kill him. He was going to burn this entire court to the ground and was going to savor doing it.

As the blood dripped from your cut neck to land directly in front if his knees, though, Eris realized it would all be for nothing.

He had no one.

His mother was dead.

His mate was dead.

He stared at the dripping blood, waiting for his father to kill him too. Begging the Mother to bring the sword onto his own neck as well.

When the motion didn’t come, Eris found himself looking up once again, ready to face his father and death itself.

But the throne room was gone. His mother’s pale body, your decapitated body . . . both gone.

You now stood in front of his kneeling form, your back to him as you surveyed your naked body in the mirror. Your alive body, completely in tact and breathing.

“I thought you said you would be a kinder ruler than your father. That you wished to right his wrongs.”

Your voice was small, jarring to his ears after what he had just witnessed. He had to shake the image of you dead on the ground from his mind in order to respond. “I will be. I do.”

“Then why is your court still afraid of its ruler? Why am I still afraid of my ruler?”

He could barely process what was happening, what you were saying.

A breath and then you were turning to face him. Your body on full display. Eris nearly gasped. Burns—some in the shape of fingerprints, others in the shape of hands—marred your skin. The tender skin of your throat burned a bright red, matching that of your wrists, forearms, and inner thighs.

“Why are you so insistent to be just like him?”

He met your eyes, his head already shaking in denial. He would never—

“I would never hurt you.”

“Then why do you?”

Eris only continued to shake his head desperately. This couldn’t be real. He would never lay a hand on you, would never even think of marking your delicate skin or causing you a lick of pain.

A small thud resounded through the room as you fell to your knees in front of him, matching his position and taking his face into your delicate hands. Your eyes were soft, shining with sympathy. “Everything you touch burns, Eris. You are meant to destroy, not love.”

The harsh words contrasted so greatly with your gentle touch, with your tender voice and sad eyes. His jaw clenched as he tried to push back the tears already leaking from the corners of his eyes.

He knew your words were true. Despite the hope that often spread in his chest at the possibility of escaping his family, of doing better, he knew that he had done too much bad to ever think of himself worthy of anything other than pain and destruction.

He would reap what he sowed.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.

“I know,” you whispered. You leaned forward, lightly pressing your lips to his damp cheek. “But you have to let me go. If you really cared, you wouldn’t want me around you.”

He felt like he was dying, like he was losing a crucial part of himself. But keeping you, your mating bond, would mean doing wrong by you, subjecting you to a monstrous male, a monstrous ruler who can’t help but be the villain his blood tells him he is.

“Let me go back to the Night Court. Back to my friends and family.”

Family. Friends. The words struck Eris like a blow. Your soft voice uttering them only reminded him of how alone he truly was. No family. No friends. And you were leaving now too.

No one ever chose him; he ruined things too quickly for that.

He looked into your warm eyes, hand reaching out to gently stroke at your cheek. His fingertips barely grazed the skin before you were flinching back from his touch. He immediately withdrew his hand, his heart thumping in despair at the fear that flashed in your eyes.

You were beautiful. So beautiful. Sometimes he questioned if you were an angelic form sent by the Mother to tempt him, to see the lengths to which he’d go in his selfishness.

But he couldn’t be selfish when it came to you. Especially not when it came to your safety and happiness.

And he never wanted to see that look of fear in your eyes again. So he nodded. He steeled himself, met your gaze, and nodded.

"Go."

It hurt. It hurt so fucking badly. But Eris would do anything for you. He would give up his crown, his happiness, his life, if it meant you were safe and cared for. Here in the Autumn Court, with his handprints marking your skin, you would never be safe and cared for.

You stood slowly, backing away from him as if he were a wild animal that could unleash himself at any moment. You were quiet and careful in your movements, and when you finally reached the door and shut it with a click, he heard your hesitancy turn into something just as painful: panic. Footsteps skidded down the hall, rushing to leave this place. Rushing to leave him.

Eris did not remove himself from the floor.

He stayed in that kneeling position, remembering your rejection, your execution, and your battered body.

His worst nightmares come to life.

They would stick with him forever—these moments. When he saw you again, he would see what he did here. Your disgust, your blood, your fear. It left him speechless. Broken.

He stared vacantly at the wooden floor beneath his knees. At his hands resting there. His hands that have caused so much harm. That would love nothing more than to hold you and protect you but are meant to burn and destroy instead.

You were right. Being around him was a death sentence.

He only wished it was one for him as well.

As if the thought triggered something deep within him, he was thrown back into reality. His wet eyes flew open, tear-soaked eyelashes fluttering, and mouth gasping for air in the cold atmosphere of the cell.

His entire body was shaking, from the cold or trauma, he wasn't sure. And that pain in his chest where his mating bond should be—it only grew stronger.

He tried to suck in air, to breathe through that pain, but it was difficult. His back still burned from his earlier whipping, and his mind was whirling with everything he had seen and experienced. His beautiful, beautiful mate . . .

But that wasn't real. You were alive and safe. This was real now, and he was exactly where his father had left him earlier in the day. Which meant you had gone home to the Night Court after the meeting. You were safe.

"The spell shows you your worst nightmares." A voice cut through the stillness of the room, causing Eris' trembling body to turn toward it. "Some you might not even be aware you have."

Eris wondered if his father somehow knew of the nightmares that went through his mind. If this witch saw and would report them for his father to use against his son at a later time. The thought increased his anxiety and panic further, his shaking and breathing still uncontrollable. He couldn't know. If his father knew—

"I would recommend coming up with others for me to report to the High Lord. I would hate to see an innocent girl punished for your emotions."

Her voice was cold, unimpressed. But what she was offering him . . .

Eris immediately grasped the favor. "Tell him I saw my brothers assassinate me. Tell him I saw a world in which humans ruled. Tell him I experienced him beating me in this cell for months. That I both fear him and fear his vision not coming to fruition. Anything."

When the witch merely stared at him, unmoving, he pleaded. "Please."

She only tilted her head, observing him. He could only imagine how he looked: tear-filled eyes, a bloody and bare back, his entire body reacting with panic, his voice begging. A pure antithesis to how he normally presented himself in public.

But she just turned on her heel and made her way up the stone stairway, leaving him on the cold and dirty floor.

He screwed his eyes shut, praying to whatever god was out there that she would lie. That she would tell him things that would only result in himself getting hurt. That you would be safe and he would be completely unaware of his son having a mate.

But Eris knew he was never lucky. He did not win in games of life. He was never granted a family that loved him, people who cared and looked out for him. So, when the door at the top of the stairway clanged shut, he couldn't help the broken sob that left his throat.

He might have just brought his nightmares to life.

You had said it to him then, and the words echoed in his head now: Everything you touch burns.

#eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris fic #eris vanserra fic #acotar fic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for venting to my friend about my fiancée?

I (24M) have been with my fiancée (26NB) for about 3 years now. I try to avoid venting to my friends about it when I’m having little relationship annoyances because I used to do that for a while and it ended up with them just getting a horrible image of her because when good things happen that make me happy I would be responding IRL with my fiancée or gushing about it publicly e.g. on Twitter which most of my friends don’t use, vs when bad things happened I’d go to them to vent directly so they were only seeing the shitty moments. They would just always tell me she sucked or to break up with her which just wore on me because I don’t want to do that, they know I don’t want to do that, they know I don’t think I need to. Our relationship is super affectionate, has helped me massively in improving mentally and socially and in my confidence, makes me genuinely happy, and is for the most part, with certain problems we’ve been working on aside, healthy.

It’s not a communication issue or anything, I’ll address any issues with my fiancée directly as well and we’ll resolve it between us, just sometimes I’d feel the need to vent out my upset first while calming down or talking through what to say to her before I brought it up etc.

However this changed recently. my fiancée has always been a very physical person, she’s cuddly and loves kisses and just general touching, and that also translates into her playfully hitting me a lot, which I’ll do as well. Smacking each other on the ass when we pass each other, jokingly hitting each other’s arms (gently) when we’re making fun of each other, stuff like that. Very occasionally this will bother me (the other day she pinched my face hard enough that it hurt for like 20mins afterwards) but for the most part I genuinely could not care less and I take it as all in good fun.

She has never hit me in anger before, until today. She was playing a video game and died, and I laughed while sitting next to her when I saw it, and she just turned around and hit me full force. Like, harder than she’s ever hit before, and causing genuine pain. Usually I would just brush it off because like I said she hits me in a joking way a lot, but when I kind of gave a startled “ow” she just looked at me and hissed “Don’t laugh” through her teeth and she looked genuinely pissed off, and the force behind the hit just caught me completely off guard. It was also very very sudden because we’d been talking normally and light-heartedly, had even been cuddling a few minutes before, and although she was pretty clearly exasperated at the game (sighing, saying “oh my god” when the fight was going downhill) I didn’t think it was serious anger, so her abruptly whipping around and hitting me like that was so sudden and whiplashy I didn’t even have time to register it.

I have PTSD (C-PTSD? don’t remember what the specific diagnosis was) from my last relationship which was abusive in pretty much every way you can think of, and one of my biggest triggers that has been relevant in this relationship as a result of it is raised voices/anger around me (not necessarily At me, just like when my fiancée is getting frustrated or stressed and she’ll start hitting her keyboard or shouting and it’ll make me start panicking), but this is the first time I’ve had to confront being triggered by a physical violence thing. I started dissociating like hell so I left the room when she was distracted by the game and ended up slipping out of the house to call one of my best friends via Discord and lowkey cry about it

I genuinely don’t really remember what I said, the gist was just that I’d been triggered by my fiancée hitting me in anger and that I needed to calm down before I went back. This may have been a dick move because this friend is a mutual friend of me and my fiancée - I knew her first and am closer to her, but she recently met my fiancée in person for the first time and they seemed to get along well, and we’re in several servers and stuff together.

After I was done I went back in and my fiancée apologised for hitting me so hard. I said thank you and we moved on

But afterwards she confronted me because my friend had sent me a message after that basically just checking in on me and my fiancée had seen the message on my laptop that she was using to game. I usually have my Discord on Do Not Disturb when she’s using my computer just so she’s not bothered by notifications beeping at her constantly so I’m not sure if it wasn’t on for some reason and it popped up on-screen or if she minimised the game and saw it somehow, but she was incredibly upset with me because she said I’d made her out to sound physically abusive. I did explain that I’d made clear to the friend she’d never seriously hit before this, but she said that didn’t matter because it was still giving off that impression and that it was unfair because her hitting me was done in a moment of frustration/anger and I shouldn’t have laughed at the game.

I apologised and we dropped it but I do notice that since then she’s been on my computer/phone more often and she’s slid into a few of my friends’ (and I mean My friends, not ones she talks to or knows and not ones I’d said anything about this to) asking if I’ve ever spoken about her and if she can give her side of the story. My friends came straight to me about it because they felt uncomfortable with what they saw as being prompted to talk about me behind my back.

Reasons I don’t think I’m TA: She hit me, and I know she vents about me to her friends too, and although it does bother me that her friends don’t like me because of it (for I assume much the same reason some of mine don’t like her for, AKA only hearing about negative stuff) I’ve always maintained she has the right to do it. I think everyone should be able to vent to friends about partners or family and vice versa in private because venting is normal and as long as it’s not dishonest or just pure shit-talking them I think it can be helpful and even healthy.

Reasons I think I might be TA: I went to a mutual friend so she also has something to lose if this friend forms a negative opinion of her, I laughed at her dying in the game even though I know she gets incredibly frustrated and competitive in games, and I’ve never had an issue with her hitting me more playfully before so she may have just misjudged how hard it was.

So AITA for telling my friend my fiancée hit me / getting so upset about it or is it just PTSD acting up and making me overdramatise something that is basically on the same level as the joke hitting?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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anemptypuddingcup · 9 months

Text

contains brat taming and rough sex.

“Aw cmon~ Don’ act like that baby~”

Luffy chuckles before pressing his lips against the shell of your ear, his hands groping and massaging your breasts while you sat there with furrowed brows. You cross your arms and turn away from him, a heavy huff leaving your lips as while he just sits there and laughs.

Luffy wasn’t laughing because he found it funny oh no, Luffy was laughing to hide his anger from you.

As much as this man loved you, he absolutely couldn’t stand it when you got bratty. Telling you to stop acting such a way wasn’t doing anything for him so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Oi! chill out with that! We tryna have a good time and ya ruining it.”

Saying in the most stern voice didn’t even stop you and that’s what told him that he had to straighten you up.

“Ya really gonna act like that? What about all th’other times hm? I thought ya liked me, ya lil’ rubber man right?” Luffy asked, his warm chapped pressing kisses along your neck. You trembled above him as his bare cock grinds against your clothed cunt. He grips the fabric of your panties and tears them off if you, making you gasp out in anger.

“Luffy! Those were my favoriteeee!” You whined out, turning to him. “Ion wanna hear that. A slutty brat like ya don’t deserve to wear em.” He says firmly, his glare turning darker as he stared up at you. You shudder as you hear his words and tone and you purse your lips out of fear of what he might do.

“Ya wanna act like a slutty brat, I’ll treat ya like one.”

“MMGH!~” You moan out loudly as he thrusts hard into your cunt, his tip practice pushing past your cervix. He starts to laugh as he watched you immediately fall apart in his cock. “Aww look at ya~ Already goin’ dumb on m’cock ain’t ya?~” He teases, his hands keeping your thighs spread apart while he rutted into you so aggressively.

“F-Fuck you!” You grit through your teeth, your toes curling as he pulls you far into his cock. You moan out loudly as you curse to him, throwing your head back against his shoulder while you bit into your bottom lip. Luffy’s eyes widens in surprise before his brows furrows, a frown falling onto his face.

“Ooh, mouthy gal ain’t ya? Ya wanna play ‘round with me? Let’s fuckin’ play ‘round then.” Luffy grips your wrists and pulls them behind your back before sitting you up and shoving you into the mattress. Your face was deep in the blankets and your ass was high up in the air.

A sudden slam of Luffy’s hips makes you moan out loudly before his hand clenches tightly around your wrists. His hips went a quick pace and his thrusts were deep and shallow, abusing your cervix in the process. “Ya gonna keep actin’ like this? We can keep this up all night if ya want! I’ll make sure ya won’t fuckin’ walk at all tomorrow.” He says sternly, his hand pulling your hips far against his and making you cry out.

“M-Mhh!~ Mmgh!~ L-Luffy!~” You moan and whine out Luffy’s name, his thrusts only making it harder for you speak when he was churning up your insides. Luffy ignores your and presses his hand against your back, making your tummy lay flat against the mattress below. His hand moves from your hip and up to you hair and he pulls on it making you moan out.

His hips pounds deep into your cunt and the bed rocks with ferocity due to his hard thrusts. “A-Ahh!~ L-Luffy!~ M-M’sorry! M’sorryyyy~” You moan out, your face scrunching up as you feel tears brew at your eyes. Luffy groans deep into your ear as his thrusts grow harder and faster, making your face become a disheveled mess as your tears and drool soaked the quilt below you both.

“Hush! If ya were sorry then ya wouldn’t have done it! Y’ain’t sorry! And if ya were ya would’ve been stopped actin’ like a brat, won’t ya?” He asked sternly, not taking your apology. You cry out and squirm around under, your cunt tightening around him him while you felt yourself ready to cum on his cock.

Hearing your moans grow louder and feeling your cunt squeeze him causes him to go even faster, practically going at godly pace as he tried his hardest to make you feel him deep inside. All you could do was sit there and moan out as he fucks all of his frustration out into you.

“L-Lu! L-Luuuffyyy~” You moan out lengthily, his name rolling off of your tongue as your eyes behind to roll back.

Luffy smirks against your ear his grip on your hair finally loosening up before he whisper into your ear. “Gonna cum? Gonna squirt like th’slutty lil’ brat ya are?” He teases, a heavy huff leaving his lips. He bites the shell of your ear and you whimper out in slight pain and pleasure.

“If ya really sorry, then you’ll take m’dick like the good little gal ya are, ‘kay?”

This would be the last time you’d act like a little brat around Luffy.

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece fluff #op smut #op fluff #one piece x female reader #one piece luffy #op luffy #luffy smut #luffy fluff #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #puddingcupimagines

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mncxbe · 5 months

Text

Twinkle, twinkle, where's the star?☆

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/ backseat activities

Dazai couldn't help but chuckle at the sight before him, hands coming to rest on your hips as he pushed himself deeper inside your warm cunt. "What's that bella? Tired already?"

You whined in response, cheeks flushing lightly. Hissing a half-hearted "Shut up you", you readjusted your position; you were slightly hinged forward, legs wide open, draped over his thighs, triceps pressing into the leather cover of the two front seats to support you. Using the weight of your body as leverage you slowly rolled your hips against his.

It's been around half an hour since you and Dazai went on your little escapade to the parking lot, since you found yourselves in the backseat of your car and he's ready made you cum twice. Your poor cunt was aching, clit swollen from the overstimulation but Dazai just wouldn't let you be. After all, he wanted to have his fun too.

"Greedy girl..." he hummed, letting out a disapproving tut "You've got your fill for today and do nothing to please me. How cruel 'donna."

You wanted to protest but before you got the chance he hooked his arms under your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest and started thrusting into you at a relentless speed.

" 'samu fuck s-slow down" you whined, earning another grin from him.

"Hm? That's what you tell me after I was good enough to do all the work myself? You've really got to learn your place bella" he purred against the shell of your ear, hot breath sending tingles through your heated body. Your gooey walls clamped down around him as the tip of his cock kept abusing your sweet spots and your back instinctively arched off his chest.

The brunette had no objection to this; the new angle allowed him to perfectly stimulate your cervix, coaxing the sweet mewls and moans he so adored to hear from you. He took a peek at your face in the rear view mirror, his cock twitching at the delicious sight: your swollen lips were slightly parted, pretty teary eyes rolling back into your skull as the perfectly done framing layers of your hair flopped in the rhythm of his thrusts. There really was nothing he loved more than seeing his pretty darling dumb on his cock.

Dazai's slender fingers ghosted over your thigh, sliding between your legs to draw lazy circles on your clit. The sudden wave of pleasure caused you to squeeze your thighs together but he quickly opened them back up using his knees.

"Be good f'me now I'm tryna make us both feel good." he cooed, fingers picking up the speed on your swollen clit and you felt yourself being pushed closer to your next orgasm.

"'samu please I'm gonna ~ fuuck" you were leaking down his cock and onto the leather seats of your car, moaning his name like a prayer as your vision clouded with tears. His thrusts ceased for a brief moment as he rested his hands on your hips, fingers gently tapping your thigh.

"Did ya just come again bella? My, oh my you greedy girl. Think you can take another one?" You desperately shook your head just as he started moving again.

"N-no Osamu please 's too much" you whined but he only hummed sweetly in reponse, pressing his lips against your neck.

"You can take it babydoll. I wanna cum too ya know?" His thrusts were slow and deep, totally opposite to his previous brutal pace; Dazai's touch was lighter, more gentle too, fingertips tracing idly up and down your torso, hands cupping your tits under your bra and lightly pinching your perked nipples. He left left wet, open mouth kisses along the expanse of your neck as praises spilled from his lips. It felt borderline delirious, the burning, stinging sensation in your core was soon replaced by liquid warmth and you closed your eyes, indulging in the pleasure he granted you.

After a few heavenly minutes Dazai felt your body completely relax into his embrace and he released your pretty tits, returning his fingers to your neglected clit. His cock twitched desperately inside you; your cunt was sopping wet so he could easily slide in and out of your warmth, walls clamping down around him like a vice.

"There you go baby so good f'me. Pussy's to die for bella" he hummed as he thrusted up a few more times before spilling his load inside you. You groaned at the sudden feeling, eyes rolling back into your skull as you gushed around him once again.

Dazai lazily fucked his cum deep inside you before slowly raising your hips and pulling out. A little amount of your mixed juices trickled down onto the seats, pooling between his thighs.

With a lazy smile and ragged breath, Dazai brushed a few damp strands of his chocolate hair from his face and pressed his lips against your shoulder in a tender kiss.

"Well bella, guess the cleaning expenses are gonna cost us a fortune"

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai bsd #dazai smut #dazai x reader

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xeeroo08 · 1 year

Text

Astro Observations 《1》

Disclaimer : I am not a professional astrologer. This post is only for fun and it is solely based on my observations and experiences. So, please take it with a grain of salt.

♠️ Taurus Mars 🤝 Anger issues. It's either a disaster or unhealthy suppression. No in between.

♠️ Mars-Neptune placements have some wide imagination when it comes to steamy stuff. It be going on in their heads 24/7! Also they might get frequent wet dreams. Infact on a side note they are quite looking forward to it when they go to sleep.

♣️ Mars in 4th house went through a lot of family trauma in childhood. It could be anything like daily arguments, abusive household, domestic violence etc.

♠️ Sagittarius venus and their frequent crushes. If influenced by Scorpio could be secretive as hell.

♠️ Jupiter–Saturn negatively aspected could indicate a hard academic life in the beginning but once you work on it, you will succeed with flying colors. My friend has her jupiter squaring saturn and she was always at the bottom in her class. But once she decided to put her mind into it, she became one of the toppers in our school.

♣️ Venus at 0° has no idea where to began with love. They want it but are clueless about what they actually want.

♠️ Sagittarius people love freedom. Speaking from personal experience, you don't want to tie them down by any means. Like Sagittarius moon hates being emotionally tied down by some melodrama. Don't even think about manipulating them they will run away know right away. Sagittarius venus hates being controlled in a relationship.

♣️ Virgo sun might tease their partner now and then after their night together just to see their reaction. You better blush🔪

♣️ Someone mentioned in their post that having jupiter in 2nd house in solar return chart could indicate buying a lot of books. It's true! I had it last year in my chart and omg I bought so many books in one year! Also I never faced any shortage of money that year so later when I calculated the expense, I was surprised. It's also funny because whenever I felt like, okay I want this book, in the next few days I would have it in my hands by some means. I was obsessed with books. Let it be study material or novels. I still have many novels that I bought last year but haven't read yet. Lol no regrets tho, I love books 📚

♠️ Moon conjuct pluto 🤝 love-hate relationship with their mothers. It's like— I can't live without you. The next moment—but if I die it will be only because of you. And it goes both the ways. I have this and trust me it hurts on a subconscious level.

♣️ Asteroid Actor conjuct moon could mean that when you act, you act flawlessly. No one could tell if you are acting or not. Emotions are always on point. It comes very natural to these people. If underdeveloped, could make sly manipulators, like a wolf under sheep's skin.

♠️ Scorpio MC people always have a strict control over their public image. They are not said to be mysterious just like that. You might think you have them figured out but there is always something going on in their lives which is unknown to the public. And if they don't want you to know about it, you will never know either.

♣️ Pluto in 11th house/Sagittarius/Aquarius could mean that you might have a wide variety of friends all over the world, through online or even through mutuals. But for some of you these people just come along and go. Or maybe you are the one who gets distant for some reason. They still remain good friends though, it's just that the sudden closure is gone. Plus they don't reveal every single secret to their friends. They know later it won't matter.

♣️ Venus conjuct/ Sextile/trine Mercury gives a very pleasant voice. These people should try applying in music industry.

♠️ Asteroid Skip in natal chart could indicate what all things you missed or neglected in your life. For example, in 6th house you could have neglected your health a lot to the point later it backfired. Or in Capricorn it could indicate that you skipped working.

♣️ Jupiter–AC people are very sharp minded. Especially if it's conjuction. They know how to turn the situation in their favour. They are also very versatile in nature, which makes them very well liked by people. Basically the All rounder placement.

♠️ Asteroid Scientia positively aspecting Jupiter/Sun/moon could mean you work good in science fields. Whereas if it's negatively aspected you might face a little difficulty in dealing with science majors and need more effors to put in. I have jupiter square scientia and I know exactly what I am talking about.

♣️ Asteroid Academia in 11th house/Aquarius could indicate changing many schools, colleges throughout your life or living in a hostel.

♠️ Aries risings are the most restless beings alive. They can't sit still for two minutes to save their lives! These people are very competitive when it comes to athletics, as for academics, they are okay with being average. Two of the people that I know who have this rising sign won gold medals during their school lives in sports competitions.

♣️ Mars conjuct MC or Mars in 10th house people are very dedicated and driven when it comes to their profession. They pursue their career with full potential.

#astrology #asteroid scientia #jupiter squar saturn #astro observations #zodiac signs #moon-pluto #moon conjuct pluto #aries rising #scorpio mc #asteroid skip #asteroid academia #Mars-Neptune #sagittarius venus #taurus mars #solar return #Asteroid actor

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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

oh my god,,,, gurl!!!! THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT fic is sooo good 😫 my heart literally breaks every time I read this story. Thank you for blessing us with this masterpiece <3

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | square one

summary: eddie makes a confession that's been weighing heavy on his heart. you realize that your future with him is haunted by ghosts from your past. pairing: virgin!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 16.3k warnings: hopper, steve, and robin being the reader defense squad, hints at reader's previously poor mental health, mentions of abusive and toxic relationships, a banshees of inisherin quote, b*lly h*rgrove because he needs a warning. (pretend any typos don't exist pls and thank u!) a/n: guess who's back, back again? ✨✨ i'd apologize for disappearing for a month, but then there'd be apologies in all my notes, so just know that i'm sorry every time i disappear unexpectedly, okay? 🥲 thanks for being so patient! please enjoy this long-awaited installment of tcar ily <3

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

Eddie’s got a 1986 Van Halen tape in his boombox and a baby pink heart stitched into the fabric of his shirt. He’s the least metal he’s ever been, but he couldn’t be happier.

You keep your promise to him to patch up his torn Hellfire tee. If anything, you use the absentminded assurance as your excuse to see him again. The night you shared before, all but baring your scarred souls underneath glittering stars and streams of pale moonlight, hadn’t satiated your hunger for him. Eddie left you craving in a way you weren’t used to before — a yearning to be close to him that went beyond the boundaries of physical intimacy.

It was a simple sort of longing. It was a homesickness. A sense of nostalgia for a love you’d never felt before.

You wish you could wear Eddie’s adoration for you like a blanket, wrap yourself in the hand-stitched quilt of many colors and bundle it tighter around your shoulders when the cold comes. You want his softness to hold you in a way you’ve never been able to hold yourself.

You feel swaddled in it, succumbed and cloaked and at peace in all his tenderness. You’ve never been so at ease, so blissfully comforted by the presence of another human being. And Eddie feels all of that, every ounce of warmth you feel, because it pours out of you like rays of sunshine and bathes him in shades of gold.

He didn’t think you could get any softer than you had been that night at Skull Rock, until you were nestled in his unmade bed the next morning. You curled your legs underneath you as you weaved the needle and thread through the tear in his t-shirt, eyes squinted and tongue poking out the side of your mouth in an astute concentration.

All of the sudden, you were marshmallow fluff and honey on toast — made of all things sickly sweet that made his stomach feel suddenly full.

You finish mending the rip in record time and beam when he wears the heart-shaped stitching with pride. The rest of the day thereafter was spent in the tiny confines of his one hundred square-inch bedroom. From there, the both of you came to the silent understanding that you didn't want to spend another day apart.

The weekend had given you a limited sort of freedom, allowed you to pretend that you lived in a world with no responsibilities or anything other than Eddie Eddie Eddie, but adulthood made you no such promises. He had a side job to do to keep himself afloat, and you had a cat that thought it was the end of the world anytime you were gone for longer than a night. Both of those things together meant that the eve of parting was ultimately inevitable.

Every second you spent away from Eddie felt like you were grieving.

You mourned for him in the darkness of your apartment and tried to pretend you weren’t half a person in the cat food aisle at Melvald’s.

You tried to lessen the unbearable distance with phone calls, though it didn’t come nearly as close as feeling his fingers thrumming imaginary beats on your thigh or his heartbeat thudding against your ear.

But his voice filled the emptiness of your one-bedroom apartment and the Eddie Munson shaped hole he’d left just behind your ribcage, and that was good enough for you.

When you weren’t with him, you were roaming around your apartment like some kind of ghost, with the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder and the rotary clutched in your free hand.

You cook yourself dinner with him ranting about his day in your ear. You hold the receiver closer to Bowie and force him to hear her purr when she’s being exceptionally cute. He falls asleep some hours later to the sound of your soft snores, and you wake up the next morning to the sounds of his.

It was pathetic, truly.

You’d be gagging at how sweet it was if it wasn’t happening to you.

But it was.

Every ounce of this sticky sweet goodness was yours, and it tasted just like honey on your tongue.

It was the honeymoon stage times a thousand, all rose-colored and reflecting light — your own personal utopia. It brought with it a heavenly sort of refuge, a bubble of peace you never wanted to pierce.

Eddie basks in the serenity of it all when he finally has you with him again. You’re in his lap, on his lips, and all over him, but it still isn’t quite close enough. He doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied until you’ve successfully melted with him and your limbs have entwined with his like tree roots, destined to remain that way for the next couple of centuries or so.

And it’s weird because he could hardly handle living in such a tiny trailer with Wayne, let alone stomach more than a couple hours with the guys from Hellfire all in one place. But you? You entered his life all at once and now he can’t remember what it was like without you.

He doesn’t particularly want to, if he’s being real honest.

It’s why he’s always less enthused about letting you leave when you’ve both got responsibilities dragging you apart. He begs you to stay with him a few hours more, pleads for you to stick around while he makes a quick deal or an emergency pick-up when Dustin Henderson calls and says he needs a ride.

And you promise you’ll wait on him there, because he makes it virtually impossible to say no to his rosy pouted lips and chocolate syrup puppy dog eyes.

That’s when you run into Wayne for the first time, when Eddie’s out and you’re making breakfast for when he comes back.

French toast and scrambled eggs sizzle on the stove and warm the kitchen with all its cinnamon confections. It makes the man’s face screw up in confusion when he steps inside the trailer because he’s never known Eddie to cook a day in his life. And then his eyes find you — a young, pretty girl all alone in his kitchen with his nephew’s van gone from the drive.

“…Who the hell are you?” he wonders gruffly and pops a cigarette between his lips, totally unbothered.

He’s got no reason to be intimidated by the stranger in his trailer. He’s more confused than anything else, and he’s got this contorted look on his face like he’s blaming the exhaustion from the graveyard shift for his vision of you.

“Oh— my god,” you mumble through the mouthful of whipped cream you’d squeezed into your mouth moments prior. You fight to swallow it all down. “Uh. Hi. I’m, um… I’m Eddie’s... girlfriend?”

It sounds like you’re lying.

In some ways, it feels like you are.

You’ve been spending more time in his trailer than in your own home, but it’s not like either of you has motioned to make anything official just yet.

He eyes you with a tired and heavy gaze, eyes as dark and as infinite as Eddie’s. The man gives you a once-over and then chuckles lowly to himself as he tosses his corduroy jacket onto the back of the recliner and his tin lunchbox to the coffee table.

You shift awkwardly on the other side of the room. “…What is it?”

“When Eddie said he was talkin’ to a pretty girl on the phone every night, I thought he was lyin’,” he admits through hearty chuckles.

It makes you laugh too.

There’s little talking after the fact, besides you offering him some of the breakfast on the stove and him joking that you should come around more often.

You recount the story to Eddie when he returns, utterly mortified about the whole thing. You’re even more embarrassed when the boy finds amusement in your horror and starts to chuckle to himself — not exactly at you, but not with you either.

He laughs louder when you swat at him for it. You clamber on top of him, mattress squeaking mattress under your weight, as you demand him to stop through giggles of your own.

Somewhere down the line, both of you stop caring.

Neither of you is quite sure where the conversation stopped and ended, only that when you started kissing, you couldn’t stop.

They weren’t innocent little pecks, but they weren’t sloppy and full of tongue either. You press your lips together with the intent of being as close as you can to the other, like you haven’t spent every second you could together.

Neither of you will be satisfied until you’ve swallowed each other whole.

And you, you’ve got this ache for him. A swirling of want that’s constantly rippling in your belly for this boy. He’s just not usually under you when it’s happening — and now that he is, the crackling embers have burst into white and blue flames behind your sternum.

Your lips click each time you part, a lewd noise you never want to stop hearing. The sound of it gives you goosebumps, like a good song you’ve just heard on the radio. You wonder if Eddie can feel them as his hands start to creep up beneath your shirt and find purchase along your waist.

You open his mouth with your own and sneak your tongue inside just as you roll your hips over his lap.

It’s the most forthcoming either of you had been in your three-day stint of nonstop talking. Even when you were over at the trailer, totally alone and pressed underneath him, it was otherwise completely innocent. You just make out like a couple of teenagers until one of you wants to make a food run or offers to roll a joint.

And you like that. You like that he doesn’t expect anything from you, but it does get a little agonizing when you’ve tried every attempt to give yourself to him and he just won’t take it.

Like usual, Eddie tenses when he feels you grinding on top of him — partly because he feels a tingle at the base of his spine when he gets instantly half-hard, but mostly because he knows there’s nothing he can do about it.

He keeps preaching to himself it’s not the right time, it’s not the right time, it’s not the right time — but he’s got no idea when it’ll ever be the right time, if it’ll ever be the right time, or if he’ll know it when it comes.

Because he’s had you to himself for days now — no Wayne, no responsibilities, no pressure — with his tongue rutting against yours and your hands fidgeting with the metal buttons of his jeans, and it still doesn’t feel good enough. Eddie doesn’t feel good enough.

He’s not sure if he ever will.

And it’s not you. God, it’s the farthest thing from you. As far as Eddie’s concerned, he’s never had more fun with anyone else. He’s never laughed harder with anyone else. He’s never felt as comfortable with anyone as he’s starting to feel around you. So he’s not entirely sure why he finds the rest of it so hard.

Eddie wants you so bad that the ache of all his yearning is palpable. It’s like the weight of it is what’s keeping him from you — unstoppable force, immovable object, blah, blah, blah.

Either way, it leaves him entirely unable to take things further with you, however much he wants to. There’s something in his way and it’s him.

Your heartache is his own when he has to pull away from you.

“You okay?” you ask him with wide eyes and swollen lips, always so concerned for him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he’s quick to assure you. He’s still breathless when he fidgets beneath you, trying to prop himself up on his headboard without rubbing his half-hard cock against your thigh.

When he succeeds, he musters a smile that shakes at the edges. “It’s just… you know, not everything… It doesn’t have to be about sex, you know?”

He makes himself as soft as possible for you when he says this. He gets rid of all the usual teasing lilts that tend to lurk on his tongue as the words spill from his mouth. The last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings or, in some roundabout way, make you think you’re the problem.

He just wants you to know that that isn’t why he’s been wanting to spend so much time with you. There was never an ulterior motive with him other than all the adoration he holds in his hands and his mouth for you.

The strike of hurt that flashes across your face is obvious to only Eddie, who’s spent enough time mapping out your features to know what twitches are ones of discontent. The slight frown that dips between your brows when they scrunch together for half a second comes like a stroke of lightning. It’s a brief flash of purple in the sky that leaves so quickly that it makes you wonder if it was ever there at all.

You fidget on his lap, not resting as comfortably upon him as you had been just moments before. “Oh…” you murmur through soft, jutted-out lips. “Sorry. I, I didn’t—”

“No, it’s not— that’s not what I—” he tries to assure over your insecure stammers, but succeeds only in tripping over himself in return. He cuts himself off with a breathy laugh, shaking his head while his fingers fidget on your hips. “That’s just not what this is about for me, you know? I just… I wanna spend time with you.”

It’s easily the softest thing he’s ever said to you — to anybody, for the matter — and the marshmallow sweetness of it all wraps around you like wisps of pink cotton candy.

Your apprehensiveness twists into something lighter, a pair of twinkling eyes and a bashful smile.

“Oh,” you hum again, obviously more pleased than before. “That’s nice…”

“No one’s ever said that to you before, have they?” Eddie asks you.

He tries to muster a crooked smirk as the words leave his mouth, but he’s got a feeling he already knows the answer. Hearing you affirm his suspicions will do nothing more than make him angry at all the assholes that had you before him, at everyone who taught you that you were good for sex and hardly a thing else.

It makes him wish that he’d gotten to know you sooner. Maybe then you’d understand that he’d be happy just holding you like this and never doing anything more.

You don’t answer him verbally, just shake your head with your lips pursed softly to the side. You look more innocent than anything he’s ever seen before, even with your lipstick smeared on your chin.

He’s still not quite sure how someone could be so reckless with such a fragile thing — to watch you break and not spend the rest of time grieving to know that you’ll never be quite the same again.

There’s a primal instinct that swims in him then, an urge to keep you in his arms and locked in the confines of his trailer forever and ever. He wants to keep the wolves of Hawkins, Indiana from ever getting a whiff of you again. It’d be more than they deserved, anyway.

“God, you have got to get better boyfriends, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you with a playful lilt in his voice despite the anger simmering in his belly.

“Isn’t that what you are?” you giggle.

His world stops.

“Huh?”

You tense at his tenseness. Only when he’s gaping at you does the weight of your words dawn on you. “…Huh?”

The awkward moment goes as quickly as it arrives, chased out by the fit of laughter the two of you are quickly thrown into. Your entwining chuckles rise like smoke in his tiny bedroom and then settle back over you like a fuzzy blanket.

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, babe?” Eddie teases.

“Of course not,” you scoff. “Babe.”

“Oh, right, of course not. That would be way too crazy considering we’ve spent, like, every day together and have made each other come… what is it now? Twice?”

“Three times for me,” you correct with you a smile. “You need to catch up, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Another time?” he offers with a scrunched nose.

“Whenever you want.”

Eddie is grateful for your lack of urgency, even more so for the kiss you press to the tip of his nose.

You peck him on the lips after — once, twice, and then a thiiird, drawn out time — before moving on to his chin and jaw and neck. Whatever part of him you can reach (which is just about everywhere, considering the vantage point you’ve got sitting on his lap), you sprinkle a kiss to it.

It’s an innocent sort of affection, the kind that makes him wonder how it ever came to be in the first place. What evolutionary measures led to this, to you pressing your lips to his skin to show how much you care about him? Eddie doesn’t really want to know the answer, he’s just grateful that it happened in the first place.

You’re so good at it, loving on him. You’re always so kind and so gentle in your way and it makes him feel guilty. There’s a lingering feeling of undeservedness that settles something heavy at the base of his stomach. How could he ever expect you to be so open with him when he hasn’t done the same for you?

A heavy sigh rattles in his deflating chest.

“I gotta tell you something, sweetheart,” he cautions when your lips smack against the thrumming pulse below the left side of his jaw. “Something you’re not gonna like…”

A billion things run through your head all at once. When you part from him, he can see the rollercoaster of emotions each one of them puts you through.

Your first instinct is that he’s got some kind of partner he’s kept hidden from you until now. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gone steady with a guy who’s then told you about some other girlfriend he had — or, god forbid, a wife.

But then you realize that you surely would’ve had some sort of inkling if that were the case. There’s no way Eddie would’ve been able to spend every second of his day with you — and then another several hours on the phone when you had to leave — without someone else coming along to burst your bubble.

And so far, there haven’t been any angry wives, just the occasionally confused Uncle Wayne.

Then you start thinking he’s about to tell you he wants an open relationship. The you’re great, but I’m just not ready to settle down yet spiel that you’ve heard a thousand times before. Usually when people say that, they mean that they just don’t want to settle down with you.

You’ll become some douchebag’s fuck toy for a month or more until the girl next door comes around. He gets her knocked up in record time, his family forces him to marry her, and they begin their cushy lives together in the center of some cul-de-sac — really settle down, as it were.

You’re not sure if you could take that from Eddie. You could grin and bear if it you had to, take whatever attention he’s willing to give you because who cares if he’s giving it to someone else on the side? You’re just not sure how long you’d last like that.

And then you start to worry that he’s just going to break up with you entirely — it’s not you, it’s blah, I’ll always care about blah, please don’t tell anyone about how we blah-ed. That whole talk.

All the rest of your worries stop mattering so much because you’ve only just called him your boyfriend. And here he goes, about to end it all before it can really even start. That’d be just your luck, you figure.

“Did I do something wrong?” you caution after a few moments of heavy silence.

Eddie’s bleeding heart wrenches at your words, at how sad they sound spilling from your mouth, and how you immediately think that it’s got something to do with you.

He shakes his head feverishly in response. “No. No, it’s not you. You’re… you’re perfect.”

“Okay…” you concede quietly, voice trembling with a lingering disbelief.

“I just… I haven’t been totally honest with you, you know?” the boy admits before his glimmering chocolate eyes fly open and he corrects himself quickly. “And I haven’t lied to you or anything. Not— Not exactly. I just… I wanna be honest with you… As your boyfriend and all.”

You can tell by the sudden weight in his voice that he’s serious. But the fine coat of glowing rose that splotches Eddie’s cheeks after calling himself your boyfriend for the first time makes you melt.

You smile to yourself and start to trace the heart you’d stitched into his t-shirt with your finger.

“Yeah. I mean, we are about to spend our two minutes anniversary together and everything.”

“Exactly,” the boy huffs out a laugh. It lacks its usual jest, though, because of the ice-cold anxiety that drenches him from head to toe and makes his hands and feet go numb.

His fingers tremble where the rest on your waist, trying and failing to find a comfortable position there because, right about now, Eddie feels the most awkward he’s ever felt.

“I just want you to know that I… I’ve never done this before,” he confesses quietly and with his eyes squeezed shut. He prays that he doesn’t have to be any less vague than that.

Your face twists in confusion — your brows furrow and your nose twitches and your head tilts to the side like a puppy. And then you’re laughing, a soft little thing of a giggle that normally makes his heart sing, though now he can only feel it breaking.

“What…?” he tries to scoff out his own chuckle. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’ve already told me that, dummy. That you’ve never felt this way before…” you answer, reciting his own words back to him. You haven’t yet forgotten how he’d looked at you as you said them, pale skin made silk under the moonlight while he sparkled beneath the beams of it and his love for you.

“No, it’s… it’s more than that,” he corrects. “I’ve never even had a girlfriend before you. Or anything really.”

You still don’t seem to understand. You just look on at him with uncertainty.

A quiet “okay?” tumbles from your mouth entwined with a nervous giggle, because you don’t understand what’s got him so somber. He’s never dated anyone, you’ve fucked half of Hawkins — these are just facts that went unsaid before now.

And maybe it’s because you’ve never been with a virgin before, but the thought that Eddie might be one hasn’t seemed to cross your mind at all.

It’s that exact thought that scares him.

Because if it hasn’t already, maybe it’s because you’re avoiding it altogether. And why would he ever be the exception?

He opts to bite the bullet and hopes that his heart doesn’t get broken after.

“I’m a virgin. Okay? I’m a complete, total, proper adult virgin,” he blurts with a brazenness he’d previously lacked when it came to all this. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now, but I didn’t, because I liked you and I was scared. So if you wanna yell at me or if you wanna break up with me before our five-minute anniversary, I totally get it, but I should probably let you know that it’ll rip my little virgin heart to shreds, so…”

Eddie ends his nervous ramble with a trembling, lopsided smile that does little to ease the leaden tension he’s just manufactured in the four walls of his bedroom.

He can’t seem to gauge your reaction after the fact, which is strange because he always knows what you’re thinking.

He knows when you’re laughing with him and not at him. You scrunch your nose and giggle when he tells you a funny joke, then tilt your head back and cackle when he trips over the punchline.

He knows the exact moment when something’s started to bother you — when you get real quiet in your bubble of reserved stillness and your eyes start to glaze over. To anyone else, it might just look like a person who’s keeping to themselves. Eddie’s starting to learn that usually means trouble when it comes to you.

He knows the difference between your gentle sort of sadness and when you’re damn near inconsolable. When you cried at the end of Stand By Me, you smiled at him with a glassy tear-filled gaze, then rolled your eyes when he tried to comfort you. The tears only spilled over when you laughed because Eddie pretended you’d hurt him when you’d shoved him away.

But when you’re really upset about something, you don’t show him at all — you fight to keep it all to yourself until you’ve squished the problem into a tiny enough ball that you can forget about all of it.

This is something different.

There’s too much crossing your mind all at once for him to get a good read of you.

You just gape at him, like you’re trying to figure out if he’s joking or not, and then fighting to understand what it means when you realize he’s being serious.

And just when you’ve started to wrap your head around it all, when your brain remembers how to make words again and you realize you haven’t said anything in several agonizing seconds, a foreign voice sounds from down the hallway.

Not foreign in that it was unfamiliar exactly, just foreign in that you and Eddie had spent so much time alone that you were starting to forget that there was an entire world outside of yourselves. A great big world, filled with a great many people, some of whom were your friends who tended to get pretty worried about you.

“Edward Wayne— why the hell is the Chief in my driveway?” his uncle curses from the living room, sounding like he’s speaking through a cigarette in his mouth.

Eddie himself is immediately freaking the fuck out because he figures he must’ve gotten tipped off again. He tries to calculate the quickest way to get you off of him and to all of his cubby holes full of miscellaneous drugs so he can flush them down the toilet before Jim Hopper busts the door down.

And even though you’re not the drug dealer who’s had cops on their ass since they were fifteen in this equation, you look a whole lot more terrified than Eddie does.

Your eyes go wide and the whites of them swim with terror as you launch yourself off of his lap. You don’t spare another glance back at him, not even when you nearly trip over yourself when you shove your sneakers on your feet and shuffle out of the room. He’s forced to follow behind you like a confused puppy as you bound through the trailer at lightning speed.

The haste of your movements startles even Wayne, who halts mid-puff of his cig when you’re in and out of the living room before he can blink. The opening squeak of the screen door and metal slamming against metal is the only thing that punctuates your exit.

“Would it kill you to answer your damn phone every once in a while?” the powerful timbre of Jim Hopper’s angry voice, of which only the man himself could pull off, is muffled until Eddie cautiously slinks onto the porch behind you.

He finds the chief standing beside the Cruiser he’s parked sideways. The door of it is still flung open. A distant beeping sounds from the ignition.

He’s still got on the pressed khakis of his uniform — complete with the golden badge pinned to his chest, darkened sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, and flat-brimmed hat on his head. Even with the majority of his face covered, it does little to hide the anger that radiates off of him like a hot stove eye.

You remain on the porch, shifting your weight on your feet at the top of the steps. “Okay, Hopper, just listen to me for a second—”

“Three days!” he shouts over you, not deterred by your composed nature. “I have been calling you… for three days! Seventy-two hours. No answer!”

Eddie decides to speak up from behind you despite his better judgment. “Yeah, uh, that was kinda my fault,” he confesses with an awkward laugh. “Wouldn’t let her hang up the phone—”

“I’ll deal with you in a second,” Jim interjects firmly and without thinking. He goes back to berating you with an admirable finesse. “Buckley wanted my head on a pike when I wouldn’t file a missing person’s report in the first twenty-four hours, but seventy-two? She was gonna kill me!”

Rather than argue with him, like every fiber of your being so desperately wants to, you make the difficult choice to concede with a heavy sigh. Because you don’t doubt that Robin was on his ass the second she realized you weren’t answering your phone or at your apartment when she and Steve dropped by.

She did tend to be on the overprotective side, after all, which obviously paired well with her melodramatic disposition.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve just been… busy.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard the one before,” the man answers bitterly.

“It’s different, Hopper!”

“I’ve heard the one before, too!”

Eddie can only assume that the both of you are communicating telepathically, what with the way your synchronized glares seem to say a thousand words (probably every curse imaginable, if he had to guess) without your mouths ever moving once.

He stands on the outskirts of it all, feeling a bit stuck in the thorniness of such a tense silence, like any slight movement might cut him.

Jim moves slowly, akin to a creeping snake, as his hands raise to remove the glasses from his face. Their lack reveals the ice-cold glare that was previously hiding beneath them.

“Get in the car—”

“—No,” you reject just as the direction leaves his mouth because you knew it was coming.

Jim inhales sharply and smacks his lips against his teeth, like a father whose child is most ardently testing his patience. He plants his work boot in the gravel and his hand on his hips. His steel gaze goes far off for a moment before flitting back to you again.

“…Get in the car or I put you in handcuffs.”

Your breath hitches at the threat. You squint over at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Jim smiles at you, but it’s more threatening than anything else. “We both know that I would.”

Eddie’s eyes flit between the both of you. He can tell that Hopper’s serious and that you’re trying to decide whether or not to call his bluff, with your arms crossed defensively over your chest and lips pursed in a tight line.

You ultimately decide not to. Because Hopper has, in fact, done that before. And even though the circumstances are very, very different, you wouldn’t put it past him to do it again. So you all but stomp your foot like a protesting child and spin on your heel to storm back inside the trailer.

Eddie’s nervous gaze flits between your disappearing form and the storm cloud of a police chief standing in his driveway. When their eyes lock, he realizes he should probably say something. He cocks his thumb over his shoulder and stammers, “I should— I should probably…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He catches the front door before it shuts and slithers through the crack of it to follow in behind you.

“Wait, was he— was he being serious about that?” Eddie wonders once you’re back in his bedroom.

It feels a lot less cozy than it did minutes before, less like the bubble of refuge that you thought nobody could pierce and more like a lonely space that feels entirely too empty. You pluck your things scattered around his room, and it starts to feel less and less like home with parts of you gone from it.

“I don’t know,” you answer within a sigh as you collect your cardigan from the back of his desk chair and shrug the thing back over your shoulders again.

“But it’s happened before?”

“Yeah. Once. When I was…” you confess quietly, then trail off. You get your bag from his nightstand and haphazardly shove your scrunchie, sunglasses, and chapstick into the bottom of it. “…When I was in a bad way— it doesn’t matter now.”

Eddie so desperately wants to pry.

He’d wanted to make a joke before, about the handcuffs — something less than tasteful about them and you and Hopper and some good ol’ freaky deaky that you'd scold him for after. But he decides not to now because you sound so strangely solemn about the whole thing, as though it was a story you buried deep with the intent of never bringing it up again.

“You don’t have to go with him if you don’t want to, you know that, right?”

“Of course, I do,” you scoff at his worries, not nearly as threatened by Jim as the rest of Hawkins. You move to stand in front of him in the center of his room and meet his furrowed brows with a soft grin. “He’s not gonna do anything, he’s just pissed. He’ll berate me on the drive back to my apartment and then it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

That seems to please Eddie well enough, though he’s still a bit disheartened at your leaving.

“I guess we couldn’t keep spending time together like this, huh?” he teases lightly, like the realization of it doesn’t make his chest ache. “Sorta forgot about the rest of the world… whatever that is.”

“It was fun while it lasted,” you tell him with a shrug and a whimsical sigh.

“Wait for me, will ya?” he jokes, if only to make you laugh and to feel like he’s stuck in some sickly sweet ending of a romcom for a couple moments more.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics but let him wrap you in his arms anyway. His hands find purchase on your elbows, thumbs rubbing soothingly along the outsides of them. “How about a kiss, then?” he offers when the urge to feel you because too great to bear. “For our ten-minute anniversary and all?”

“You never have to ask me, Eds,” you assure with a laugh. You rise to the tips of your toes and he meets you halfway.

Home is in your mouth. It’s warm and cozy and safe there. It’s easily the most familiar place he’s ever known, with your bottom lip nestled between his own. He feels homesick when you part from him.

“You’re not mad at me?” he wonders quietly, feeling a bit like a cowering child from where he stands in front ahead of you — eased only when you shake your head almost immediately in response.

“No. I couldn’t be even if I wanted to, I think.”

“Okay. That’s… That’s good.”

“We can talk about it later, if you want. After I get lurch off my ass.”

He tries not to smile too wide, but it’s hard not to beam every time he looks at you. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll… I’ll see you around, I guess?” he stumbles over himself, having forgotten how to say goodbye to you.

It’s equally as hard for you too, it seems, because you nod at him and turn to leave and then realize once you’re halfway down the hallway that you might not survive if you don’t kiss him again.

So you turn and rush back, catching Eddie with his back turned and spinning him around so you can peck him again. You feel his cheeks heat beneath your palm and his sigh against your cupid’s bow and his lips melt against your own.

You etch each tingling sensation into the edges of your mind in the hope that you won’t drive yourself completely insane when you inevitably start to miss him like crazy.

You focus on that and on him when you find Hopper and his stupid proud dad smirk. It’s the only reason you don’t punch him in the jaw and tuck and roll out of the Cruiser when the silence becomes so slowly insufferable.

You’re starting to think Jim left the radio off on purpose. You’ve never known the guy not to drive around without the strumming of an old-school folk song to accompany him. You figure it must be some sort of intimidation tactic, to make you so uncomfortable that you break. You’re a lot closer to that than either of you realize.

You spare a glance over at the man next to you. He hasn’t looked at you once since you get in the car. He’s got one hand at three o’clock on the steering wheel and the other with its elbow propped up on the door as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw.

He’s too at ease not to be bothered. This is obviously some kind of front he’s putting on to conceal his inner irritation.

You give on the lecture you’d been trying to prepare yourself for and exhale sharply through your nose. Your fingers fidget on your thighs as you kick your restless feet up on the console.

“Get your feet off the dash,” Jim scolds without missing a beat.

You huff and obey. “Okay, this is crazy— can’t you just yell at me already?”

He barely wastes a second.

“I cannot believe you right now!” he seethes through gritted teeth, stewing in a dad-like sort of anger.

“It was three days, Hopper!”

“You know what happened the last time no one heard from you for three days?” he shouts back.

You tip your head back against the seat and groan. You should’ve known he was going to play that card.

He waves an accusatory finger between the both of you. “You and me— we had a deal, remember? You let me check in on you. You agreed to that. You visit your little high school friends, and I see you at work, so I can make sure you’re not off somewhere killing yourself.”

Hopper becomes a casualty to the tense silence he created then, when you don’t retort with some comeback of your own and force him to feel every ounce of pressure from the leaden quiet.

He sighs a great big, too loud sigh and shifts in his seat. His softening gaze flits between you and the road. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I just meant it, you know, figuratively. I wasn’t… trying to be mean.”

“When have you ever cared about being mean?” you monotone.

“I don’t,” he assures. “I’m just not trying to hurt your feelings, alright? Jeez…”

You try not to take too much pride in the man’s half-apology, though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little bit rewarding.

Jim Hopper’s practically an iceberg. He only melts for his kid, Joyce Boyers, and you, apparently.

It’s why he’s always so damn protective over you. He’s developed this sort of deep-rooted urge to keep you safe after watching you make every wrong decision a human being could possibly make. And when you mess up, because you do mess up, he feels like it’s partially his fault — that, if he’d done more, he could’ve kept you safer.

It makes you feel like a burden most of the time, but you know it’s above yourself and mostly out of your control.

You’d known of each other for a while before you really met, because a troublemaker and police chief in such a small town are bound to. But somewhere down the line, he found you in a valley of mourning for someone that was still alive and you found him in a black hole of grief for someone who wasn’t. The empty and infinite voids within you both were stitched slowly together all over again.

Jim Hopper was the dad you never had. You were the daughter he couldn’t.

And you thought something might change after he adopted El. You figured he might forget about you because it wasn’t like it was his job to watch after you or anything. Playing pretend always felt nice, but you knew it wasn’t real.

It was to Jim, though, who’d developed a similar adoration for you as the one he had for Sara. He hasn’t been able to forget about you in the same way he hasn’t been able to forget about her.

Every night, after he’s scrubbed the day off his body and washed it all down with a lukewarm beer, he lays on his pull-out bed in the small living room of his cabin and goes through a checklist in his head.

He makes sure that he’s checked on El and reminds himself to wake up early to make her breakfast the next morning before he brings Joyce coffee at Melvald’s — Joyce. She always comes next on his list, always right after El, and then you.

He forces himself to calm down when his blood pressure inevitably spikes at the thought of not having heard from you all day. He reminds himself that he saw you at work on his lunch break and that he’ll see you again tomorrow.

Jim hums to himself as he settles more comfortably into his springy cot, deciding that he’ll try a new wine he can’t pronounce when he sees you at Enzo’s the next day and that he’ll drink it while he rambles about Joyce or El’s new boyfriend.

He drifts to sleep with thoughts of Sara.

You’re as ingrained into his mind as every other person he’s grown to love.

He stopped worrying about never getting you out a long time ago. Like a tomato sauce stain on a dress shirt, he knows he’ll never get you out of his head. He knows even more so that he doesn’t want to — no matter how much you annoy him or how angry you make him when you don’t answer his calls.

“Sorry…” you murmur and swallow down whatever mundane argument you could’ve spewed then, at the result of his sudden warmth. You turn to gaze out the window and trace the edges of the puffy white clouds with your eyes. “I wasn’t thinking about that — the… deal, or whatever… Honestly, I was a little too busy being happier than I think I’ve ever been in my life, so…”

You don’t see the dramatic eye roll he gives you in response, but you can’t miss the hearty groan that spills from his mouth.

“What?” you laugh in response. “Have you never been a kid in love before?”

It’s almost jarring how he goes from huffy to concerned in a fraction of a second. His head snaps over to you, jaw clenched and eyes suddenly stern and swimming with a lingering fear.

“Love?” he repeats like he must’ve heard you wrong. “Love— That’s— That’s what this is?”

You shrug. “I don’t know… Maybe…”

His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Please don’t tell me you’ve said that to each other yet. This guy was just a crush four days ago.”

“No, Hopper. We haven’t. I mean, he literally just told me he was a virgin, so I don’t think we’re even close to—”

“A virgin?” Jim echoes, voice high-pitched and giddy. He beams at you from beneath his bushy mustache and slaps you a little too hard on your arm when he laughs. “Shit, teacup. Are you runnin’ out of options over there or somethin’?”

You twist your body to hit him back harder with your right hand. “It’s not funny, Hopper,” you scold. “He’s nice.”

“You said that about Hargrove once—”

“This is different,” you monotone before the words have the chance to leave his mouth.

“Yeah? How do you know?”

The question stumps you for a moment because you don’t know — you can’t.

You’d never admit it out loud, but Hopper was right; you’re still not quite sure how you ever could’ve thought that Billy Hargrove was a good guy, but you did. You felt a similar feeling of elation with him as you do now with Eddie, an otherworldly sort of happiness that makes you feel like you’re the only person it’s ever happened to.

And here you are now, sometime later and reveling in the aftermath, still gluing pieces of your shattered heart together.

You treat love like a drug. You use and use and use until it stops being a fun thing and becomes a crutch you can’t live without. That’s always when it starts to hurt you, but you’re in too deep to stop craving it.

And you know it’s bound to happen all over again, but you have to believe Eddie’s different or else you might as well fall into the deep pit of despair you’ve been trying this whole time to crawl out of.

He makes you happy, really really happy, and you’d rather gamble that he hurts you than give it all without even trying.

“I… don’t,” you conclude after a few moments.

Jim seems surprised by your admission, shooting you an incredulous look with his untamed brows raised to his hairline.

You meet his look with a wavering grin. “But he makes me really happy, Hop. Like… It feels like it should be illegal or something. He makes me feel so good my heart hurts. There’s like this—”

“Ugh,” the man grumbles in disgust, sullen all over again.

“I didn’t mean it like that, you weirdo,” you chide.

A grin twitches beneath his mustache in response. “I know you didn’t… ‘Cause Munson’s a virgin.”

“Oh my god!” you groan. “I didn’t even mean to tell you that, okay? Leave him alone— and a swear to god, Hopper, if you make fun of him—”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with it, alright? I mean, he’s got the expert around to show him the ropes— ow!” You cut off his stupid joke and accompanying sardonic grin with a fist to his shoulder.

Steve and Robin tend to be quite the formidable duo.

They’ve barely got a brain cell to rub together between them, but there’s still something strangely intimidating about them when they’re both angry. It feels a bit like they’re your I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed parents, and you’re the scolded child taking your lashings in the form of a lecture.

It’s what you feel like now, sitting across from them in your designated booth at Benny’s Burgers — the one by the window in the corner. It’s far enough away from the bustle of the entrance but close enough still to gossip about the assholes you used to know from high school when they walk through the door.

“You scare the shit out of us when you go AWOL like that, you know?” Steve confesses, still soft even though you know there’s a more upset part of himself he keeps hidden for now.

His chocolate gaze flits between you and the pile of fries in the middle of the table that the three of you share. He finds the one covered in the most salt and pops it into his mouth.

“AWOL?” you echo with a distant laugh when you realize how much he sounds like Hopper. “It was three days.”

“Yeah, and you fell off the face of the earth,” Robin retorts, half-muffled through the hearty gulp of strawberry milkshake starting to melt in her mouth.

“You guys are acting like I went halfway across the country,” you scoff. “I was with Eddie. At his trailer.”

“Exactly!”

Steve’s face contorts mid-bite. “Wait, you were with him? The freak?”

It makes you roll your eyes. He’d been too busy hopelessly flirting with the waitress at the counter to hear the entire recounting of your absence to Robin, though it was more of you gushing about it than anything else.

“Yep,” you answer.

“You skipped out on movie night to be with… Eddie Munson?” he reiterates for himself, as though there was any correlation between watching the same three movies while gorging on greasy junk food with your best friends and falling more in love with a guy you were already head over heels for as he tried to explain away the unopened box of condoms collecting dust underneath his bed.

Both are equally fun in their own ways, but totally totally different.

“How did you survive without me, Steven?” you joke back in response.

“He didn’t,” Robin quips.

“So… what? You guys just went on some kinda bender? I don’t get it. Did you just fuck the entire time or something?”

“Well, contrary to popular belief, I can actually spend time with someone and not fuck them—”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“And to answer your question — no, we didn’t fuck,” you confess, then elaborate more slowly, a tad bit awkwardly. “Because he told me today that… he is a… virgin.”

Your words seem to settle over each of them differently. Robin stills with her lips wrapped around the candy-cane striped straw then furrows her brows, as though their meaning hits her a few seconds after the fact.

Steve, meanwhile, goes entirely agape in an amazed sort of shock. His eyes go wide, his brows fly up and hide beneath the bangs that hang down over his forehead, and his jaw falls open. And then he starts to smile, a subtle hint of a grin on the corners of his pink lips, like he finds it funny.

“I knew it,” he murmurs to himself.

“…Why are you smiling like that?”

His smirk widens. “That freak said he screwed Vicki Carmichael senior year. I knew he was lying.”

“And why do you look so proud of yourself, exactly?” Robin asks him.

“Because now I feel less bad about never fucking her,” the boy explains like it’s obvious. He set his elbows on the table and gestures wildly with his hands. “I always thought the freak one-upped me because she, like, never gave me the time of day after Hargrove came along, you know? But… It’s good to know that I’m still king.”

His delighted grin is met with confused looks from both you and Robin, who look upon him with twisted eyebrows and squinted eyes.

“Are you not aware of how strange everything that comes out of your mouth is?” you ask him, only partly joking.

“At least that settles why he wouldn’t let you give him a blow job,” the brunette girl concludes with a shrug as she slouches against the booth. “Poor guy was probably shitting bricks about it.”

You realize then that it does make sense, why he’d always been so adamant about your pleasure and never his own. Why he always touched you like you were some fragile thing he might break, and like everything was new to him. Because it was new to him. All of it.

And even though it baffles you to no end how he went his entire life without someone wanting to jump his bones (because truth be told, you’re doing a terrible job at hiding your want to do just that), the fact still remains — Eddie Munson is a virgin.

He’s a virgin with an acute infatuation for the local slut, both of you freaks in your own right.

It just adds more intricacy to a puzzle that already feels so complicated.

“I’ve never been with a virgin before,” you admit quietly, mostly to yourself, as you train your gaze on the straw wrapper you curl around your finger. “It’s different… Scary.”

“Why?” Robin wonders aloud.

“I don’t know. I just— I don’t know what to do now.”

“Just do what you always do,” Steve tells you like it’s that simple. He folds his arms on the table and leans in closer to you. “Experience is good. Okay? Experience is key.”

“No, it’s not that. I think I’m just… I’m scared I’m gonna treat him the way, you know, that I was treated. And I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna do that to him.”

You’re not sure when the shift started, when you stopped being a person to people. You only know that you were something less than that. Somewhere between junior and senior year, you become a plaything that anyone could do anything they wanted to with, and you were too starved for physical affection to tell them otherwise.

You liked the attention. You liked feeling loved, even if it was only for a minute and a half, and all you had to show for it was a pool of cooling come on your belly.

Eddie’s the fragile thing now that you were then.

He was a delicate little thing that can break so easily, something you could split in half if you wanted to.

You don’t.

You want so desperately to be kind, but you’re scared you won’t know how to, because no one’s ever been kind to you.

Steve reaches across the table for you, taking a wild stab at an attempt for affection after several months of being scared to touch you — he did enough of that, he thought, and he’d hurt you. But he can see the lingering ache hiding in your glazed-over eyes and feels an overwhelming urge to quell your worry.

Five warm fingers wrap around your wrist, not too tight or too strong, just enough to stop you from cutting circulation off to the tip of your pointer finger and to remind you that he’s still there.

“Trust me,” he tells you with a sudden soft swimming in his caramel-colored eyes and a smile playing on his lips. “You couldn’t do that to anybody. Not even if you wanted to.”

Your heart nearly stops at his words, at the sheer kindness of them, and at the way he holds you in the soft way you’re used to only Eddie holding you. Your eyes go wide when they flit up to him and then start to sting with the weight of unshed tears.

You’re quick to blink them away though, while you playfully shrug him off and joke — “stop being so nice before I get the wrong idea, Harrington” — because it’s easier than accepting his tenderness.

Robin takes one look at his fond gaze, all gooey and dripping with honey, and then at your rolling eyes and accompanying shy grin, and groans at the softness of it all. She slides out from the confines of the booth and grumbles something about getting a refill on her milkshake.

“Some fries too, while you’re up?” Steve offers with a hopeful grin.

He’s met with the girl’s signature scowl.

“Please,” you finish for him.

Robin grins. “Anything for you,” she croons, if only to make the boy pout, before skipping off to the counter.

She leans her elbows upon the red wooden laminate top and smiles that same sickly sweet smile for Benny by the grill — no doubt trying to get her refills for free.

Even though the bearded man seems unimpressed with her presence, you know that he’ll give them to her free of charge. He’s always had a soft spot for her, one of the only people in town who could rival his wit.

The door dings open, a familiar and high-pitched chime that often becomes more frequent as the evening progresses. This time it lets in a foreign, bitter breeze when the door swings open and closed again.

You can feel the chill from a distance — it resembles the crispness of autumn despite being comfortably settled in the middle of March. It nearly takes your breath away, prickles your skin and makes you grimace back a shiver.

When your eyes leave Steve, a difficult feat considering he’s doing an alarmingly good impression of a walrus by sticking fries in his upper lip, you find that it wasn’t abnormally cold air at all. It was a Peter Parker spider sense form of anxiety that had felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over you.

Billy Hargrove used to turn heads when he walked into a room.

Now he just sucks all the air out of it.

And it’s not like you haven’t seen him since the break up; for a while, the asshole was painted on the backs of your eyelids — he all but haunted your consciousness. You’ll see him around town on occasion, in his sunglasses and jean jacket and too-tight denim pants, while he struts around Main Street with his new girlfriend (otherwise known as, his flavors of the month).

You think this is the first time you’ve been in the same room as him since your split, though. It feels like it must be with the way your throat starts to tighten and you forget how to breathe.

All at once, you’re scrambling for an exit. It’s like Billy’s a fire and his smoke is rapidly filling your lungs. Your legs start to tremble when your adrenaline spike. Your brain tells you to get out as quickly as you can before he burns you.

Steve notices the look of fear flood your features like a dark storm cloud. You were laughing just seconds before the door opened, equal parts with him and at him, but now you just looked terrified — like a child who’s just spotted a boogeyman in her closet.

He turns in the booth to find what haunted thing has just caught your eye and finds that it’s worse than any monster you could conjure up. It’s Billy fucking Hargrove, with his pretty hair and his pretty smile and his pretty girl under his arm.

His presence filled targeted, almost. Like he chose to come to this diner, on this day and at this time just to fuck with the group of you.

“Don’t even look at him,” Steve advises when he turns back to you. “Look at me, okay? He’s not even worth it. That asshole doesn’t deserve to ruin our day.”

And you try to listen to him. You try really, really hard to let him change that subject to the cold fries or Robin taking too long or a combination of the two, but you can’t focus on him. You’re already so overwhelmed at the sight of Billy that you can’t focus on anything else but him.

You settle on the fact that you might just have to drag Steve and Robin out by their wrists because you can’t sit in this booth any longer, and you definitely aren’t hungry anymore.

And that’s when he spots you.

Your eyes lock and you freeze, immediately averting your gaze but catching the sudden sparkle in his own as he grins a sly, sadistic grin.

“No way,” you hear him say with a laugh under his breath. The sound of his voice makes you tense. You hadn’t realized how at peace you’d been all this time without having to hear it. Now it feels like so many little needles piercing your skin.

“Fancy seeing you guys here,” he greets after he’s made a b-line for your booth and dragged Vicki Carmichael along with him. He smiles with all of his pearly whites while he smacks pungent wintergreen gum between them.

When he slides into the booth beside you, he does so without invitation, and forces Vicki to slink in next to Steve.

And like it wasn’t already awkward enough, you know Vicki — like, know her, know her. There was a drunken makeout at a Halloween party in ’82. Then a one night stand with her brother before he left for college in ’83. And then her Tom Selleck clone of a father at a sleepover for her eighteenth birthday in ’85.

You’re not exactly proud of it, but you’ve gotten a rather hefty taste of her family tree, and the fact that both of you know it makes it that much more uncomfortable.

“We’re kinda busy here, Hargrove,” Steve tells him when he notices how comfortable he’s making himself in your booth.

“Ooh… Is this a little date?” Billy teases with a grin.

Steve’s face falls. “…No.”

“Oh, right,” he nods, though the sardonic lilt in his voice tells you that he already knew the answer. He crosses his arms on the tabletop and turns to look at you with eyes bluer than any ocean. They flicker up and down your form. Suddenly, you feel self-conscious in your baggy jean and tank top duo.

“You’ve been seeing that guy, haven’t you? What’s his name again? The, uh— the freak?”

“His name is Eddie,” Steve answers for you, defending him because you can’t find the words to.

“That’s it,” Billy snaps his fingers, then points. He nudges you with his shoulder. The familiar feel of his jean jacket against your skin makes you wince. “God, you must be runnin’ out of steam over there, huh? I mean… the freak? Seriously? You couldn’t do any better than that?”

The jokes were tolerable coming from Jim and Steve and Robin — they weren’t funny by any means, but you could stomach them because you knew they were jokes. But this? This was just to hurt you. And it works too easily because Billy knows exactly how to break you. He knows all the wires to cut and buttons to push because the puzzle of shattering your psyche is one he memorized long ago.

“He’s actually a really nice guy,” you manage through a tight throat, still staring at your fidgeting hands.

“Well, that’s good,” he hums like you need his approval. “It’s about time, right?”

You huff and choose to entertain him despite your better judgment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He only shrugs. “I don’t know... Just, you know, that found a guy willing to settle for you. That’s all.”

“Settle?” you repeat, trying to laugh despite how tiny your voice sounds.

“You know what I mean, c’mon,” the blonde boy chuckles. “Sluts are fun and all, but they’re not the kinda girls you wanna settle down with. Steve knows what I mean.”

“No, I don’t,” Steve monotones quickly and without thinking, gaze hardened and jaw clenched. “And you need to leave.”

“I”m hungry, Billy,” Vicki whines, feeling every ounce of the tension surrounding her — like syrup or quicksand. She slides her permed bangs from her eyes and tucks a rogue strawberry strand behind her ear in a nervous tick. “Can’t we just get something to eat?”

“Alright, alright. I know when I’m not wanted,” Billy chuckles.

You grumble bitterly under your breath. “Apparently not…”

“I’ll see you around, Harrington,” Billy singsongs with a grin that wreaks of insincerity while his girlfriend slides out from the booth. He turns to look at you and squints. “Don’t be a stranger, alright? Matter of fact, point Munson my way, and I’ll give him a few pointers.”

You’re uncowed by his offer and angered by his mention of Eddie. Your eyes are stern and unwavering as you meet his gaze for the first time since he sat down beside you.

“I think you could learn a thing or two from him, actually,” you retort, words sounding sweeter than the venom lingering behind them.

Billy’s grin only widens, impressed by your arguing. “Ooh… I forgot about the mouth you had on you, sweetheart.”

The use of the nickname makes you cringe. It doesn’t sound nearly as fulfilling as it does when it comes from Eddie. Now, it just sounds artificial — degrading.

He leans in close to you like he’s about to tell you a secret and splays his arm along the back of the booth behind you. The nicotine on his breath makes you grimace; it’s intoxicating when it comes from Eddie, disgusting from the boy sitting next to you.

His eyes are bluer so up close, darker than you remember them being, and you notice he’s trimmed his usual stubble to a patchy mustache. He looks like the grown-up version of the boy you used to know, visually more mature but still the same in his way.

“When he gets bored of you — because, let’s be serious, he will get bored of you — you know where to find me,” Billy murmurs to you, a cynical smirk on the edges of his lips. “I’ll make sure you stay nice and broken in for the next dozen guys that want a taste—”

Steve can’t hear a word from where he sits across the booth, but he’s fuming with fists clenched under the table anyway. He hates how close Billy is to you, more so how uncomfortable you look with the proximity and how his words make you flinch.

“Alright, you need to leave,” he blurts. “Now.”

Before the blonde could respond with a quip of his own, Robin all but teleports to the head of the table. She’s standing in front of the four of you suddenly, carrying a basket of fries and a strawberry milkshake and wearing a frown on her face.

“You’re in my seat, dickwad,” she monotones, even though she hadn’t been sitting next to you before. She’s not the least bit threatened by the Californian douchebag.

Billy smiles up at her anyway. “I was wondering where the third musketeer was! Still a carpet muncher, Buckley?”

“Happily.”

“What do ya say me and you head up to Lover’s Lake later?” the boy offers despite his date shifting awkwardly a few feet away. It’s a joke, for reasons that are more than obvious, and that’s what makes it so unbearably unfunny.

He slinks out from the booth. The lack of his warmth is strangely comforting and you’re able to breathe for the first time in five minutes. He stretches his back out when he stands to his full height in front of Robin, then shrugs with his hands splayed on his hips.

“Maybe you just need some good dick. I mean… we’re gonna die anyway, right?”

“I’d rather,” she quips with a rouge-tinted smile.

The way it makes him laugh is startling. He finds a strange humor in being rejected — in most things, really. You still haven’t forgotten the cackles that left his bloodied mouth when Steve delivered blow after blow to the boy’s face in the middle of his living room, like it was all a fun game to him.

That was, of course, before Billy got the upper hand and nearly killed Steve that night. He laughed about it that too, until Max knocked him out with a baseball bat.

He’s got the same grin on his face now as he did then when he turns to look at you. A pink and pretty smirk, just wide enough to reveal the dimple in his left cheek. It’s nothing short of taunting, like he’s mocking you without having to say anything at all.

“Don’t be a stranger, alright?” Billy repeats. He keeps smacking his gum between his teeth and winks at you before spinning on the heel of his boot. He guides Vicki with him to the counter with a hand on the back pocket of her jeans.

Even when Robin slides in next to you and effectively pierces the bubble of tension that had already started to shrink with Billy’s leaving, you still find it hard to breathe. You have to keep reminding yourself, forcing oxygen in and out with wobbling breaths through your nose, or else you just stop altogether.

The other two move on rather quickly, having no trouble finding their voices again after he’s gone. Their words are muffled, though, like they’re underwater.

“I forgot what an asshole he was,” Robin grumbles.

“Well, I didn’t,” Steve retorts, eyes scanning the basket of fries for the most strategic pick of the bunch. “I can still barely breathe through my nose.”

“That’s because you didn’t go to a doctor, dingus.”

“Because I didn’t need a doctor, Robin.”

“Yeah, because being concussed three times in two years is so healthy—”

Your eyes act like magnets as they stay locked on Billy’s form. He leans in closer to Vicki to tell her something, then pats her once on the ass before walking towards the exit again. The door dings when he swings it open. Through the window, you catch him pulling out a red and white pack of cigarettes — the same brand of Marlboro Reds he’s been smoking since he was in middle school.

“You okay?” you hear Steve say, but it sounds too far away for you to realize he’s talking to you.

Robin nudges you with her shoulder to jog you from your stupor. You blink hard once and then turn to her with wide eyes. “What?”

“You doing alright over there?” the girl wonders.

“Yeah,” your answer is too quick and too high-pitched to be true. “Fine.”

“Like, fine as in you’re actually fine, or fine as in, if I leave you alone for too long, I’m gonna find you living under a bridge like a troll?”

You roll your eyes at her. “Fine as in, if someone bums me a cigarette, I’ll be good as new.”

Steve huffs when you hold out the palm of your hand toward him. He’s the only one of you who smokes recreationally enough to carry a lighter and pack of cigs with him. You swear he only keeps it with him because the weight of them makes him feel cool. You’re grateful for them now, though, and for the escape they unexpectedly provide you.

His fingers are warm when they brush your hand. The metal zippo he drops in the center of it is far colder and carries a comforting sort of weight to it. He thumbs a cigarette from the pack for you, and you take it with a sardonic smile and a sickly sweet “thank you, Stevie.”

Robin gets out of the booth to let you slide out of it.

The door chimes again, this time over your head when you open it.

Fresh, spring air nearly knocks you on your ass when it hits you for the first time. You realize then, that you’d forgotten to tell yourself to breathe and now your vision’s all swimmy. The cool breeze tries its hardest to quell your swelling anger, but you’re still at a simmering boil. Fists clenched over the lighter and cig duo in your palm and your sneakers slapping angrily against the cracked pavement.

That’s what signals your arrival, the raging stomps that echo in the alleyway Billy takes his smoke break in.

The boy takes a puff of his cigarette and smirks on the exhale at the sight of you. All he needs is one glance to see how angry he’s made you. It’s an innocent, childlike sort of rage that’s got you all scrunched face and red — a heartbroken girl on a war path.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me, sweetheart,” he taunts with his signature sarcastic smile. He holds his arms at his sides, like he’s waiting for some kind of embrace from you. “You used to be like that all the time — all over me, you know? Clingy.”

“You know what you used to be?” you ask him once you’ve planted yourself a few feet away from him, fists shaking at your sides in a nearly overwhelming mixture of rage and apprehension.

“What’s that?”

“Nice! You used to be nice! Or do you not remember that?” you wonder rhetorically. Your anger fades slowly, an ebbing tide, as a reminiscent sadness eclipses your fury — a flood of blue in all your red.

The sharp frown between your brows crumbles and so does your clenched jaw as your harsh features crumple like a balled-up piece of paper. You look upon the man that broke your heart with all the shattered pieces of it.

“You used to let me sleep over at your place when I was too scared to sleep alone at mine, and you’d bring me food when I told you I hadn’t eaten all day, and you’d take me on drives when you knew I hadn’t left my apartment in days,” you ramble in a single breath, gesticulating wildly with your hands — waving them at him and at you and the still air between. They fall hopelessly to your sides.

“You used to be so sweet, Billy…” you conclude with a wavering breath. Your chest trembles on the inhale as you straighten out your shoulders and lift your chin, trying your best not to look as defeated as you feel. “And you know what you are now?”

Billy grins that stupid grin at you, the one that almost looks kind. Almost. It’s still soft in all its insincerity, like a parent entertaining their kid that’s gone on some meaningless tangent.

“No, sweetheart,” he answers after a beat. “What am I?”

“Not nice.”

He scoffs out a laugh.

“You used to tell me, all the time, how scared you were about ending up like you’re dad—” he tenses at the mention of the man, of his own monster in his own closet. “—He’d beat you black and blue every night, and I’d bandage all your cuts and put makeup on you when you begged, so you could go out and pretend like everything was normal. And you know what? You’re just like him!”

Billy doesn’t cower when you walk closer to him. He’s got no reason to be afraid of you, but your words hit him in a place far deeper than a thousand bloodied fists.

“What he did to you, is exactly what you do to me… Or do you know see that?” you don’t wait for a sarcastic reply, mostly because you wouldn’t see the indicators of it through the tears that blur your vision. “You’re not punching me, but it feels like you are. You break me over and over and over and I have to pretend like everything’s just normal and that we��”

“Real mature of you. To bring out the dad-card,” he interjects, if only to stop your ramblings so that he might not have to hear the truth that comes with them.

“You used to he nice,” you repeat, you agonize, you deflate. “Or… Or did you never use to be?”

The shell of your mind answers for you, paints itself with all the memories you’ve been trying like hell to forget for the past six months. It’s easier to pretend the bad things aren’t real than unravel all the reasons why they were bad to begin with, you find.

The negative memories come together like renaissance paintings — dark and gloomy and blotted with too realistic tears and spatters of blood. The oil stains the backs of your eyelids, destined to remain there forever like paintings in museum that’ll stand the test of time if you nurse them well enough.

You hadn’t yet been able to forget the screams and the cracks of fists colliding with bone. They tend to keep you up at night, even when you squeeze your eyes shut and beg for your memory to be wiped away completely.

Billy crouches over Steve’s chest and pummels wholehearted punches to the boy’s face, never tiring in their force, even well after the boy goes limp underneath him. You beg for him to stop while trying like hell to shield Max from the sight of it all.

For a while, you’d blamed yourself for it — for Max being there in the first place and for Steve’s cuts and bruises.

You’d taken the girl and sought refuge in the Harrington home after witnessing a rather heated fight between Billy and his father. There was a sudden urge within you to take her far away from it before it ended how it always did — in weeping cuts and salty tears and insincere apologies when the cops were called.

But you made it worse anyway.

For Max, for Steve.

And you apologized profusely for it after, cried to the boy in his bathroom while you nursed his cuts like you were the one who put them there.

When he told you it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t believe him. Not until now. Not until you realized that Billy had always been angry — always raging with an ocean of fear and grief and violence.

When he fought with his sister, you thought it was normal, that that’s just what siblings did. But the way she cried to you after couldn’t have been normal. Neither could the unearthly fury that washed over Billy like a riptide when he found out you and Max had sought safety in Steve The Hair Harrington — angered that it was Steve and that he couldn’t be that for the both of you.

And then there was the fights. The yelling and screaming and crying fights that felt like the end of the world every single time. The kind of fights you shouldn’t be having when you’re eighteen. You thought that maybe there was some normalcy in the cheating and the secrecy and Billy’s accompanying assholery because that was all you’d ever known.

Or maybe because you had to tell yourself that was normal in relationships because you didn’t want your’s to end. Billy was the first guy to give a damn about you in ways that went beyond just sex. How were you supposed to just give that up?

But then there’s Eddie — Eddie The Freak Munson, who was really just sunshine wrapped up in leather jackets and wild hair and chunky rings and metal music. He makes you happy. The sort of happy that makes you suspicious because something bad has to counteract all the goodness he makes you feel.

Maybe that’s what this was.

Seeing Billy after having wrapped yourself in a blanket of Eddie’s warmth made you see somehow more clearly. He loves on you so much that it’s made a mockery of everything else.

Whatever you had with Billy wasn’t normal, it was a goddamn shit show. He loved you when it was convenient and then had you believing it was the real thing, that you wouldn’t find it anywhere else, when you tried to leave him.

It was a lie, all of it.

The realization makes you falter.

“Oh, god…” you sigh, voice fragile like cracking glass. “Maybe you never used to be…”

For the first time ever, you see Billy’s grin shake. The edges of it flitter, like he’s fighting to keep the corners quirked up. And his eyes have gone a lighter shade of blue, the way they always did when he blinked back angry tears as he talked about his father.

It isn’t rage glassing his eyes now. It’s something sadder, but still as real — something you never got from him in the two years you were together.

He tries, still, to cover it all up. He smacks his lips against his teeth, sympathetically. “Sorry it took you this long to figure that out.”

The laugh you exhale then is heavy with sadness. Your smile is far away and so is your gaze as you stumble back from him. You turn your head to the edge of the alley where mom’s with strollers and people in fancy suits bustle on the sidewalk and keep your eyes on the strangers that whiz by you’ll probably never see again.

“This is… This is pointless,” you murmur. His lean form is blurry through the burning tears you blink away. “Every time I see you, it’s just more bullshit so let’s just— let’s just leave each other alone, okay?”

Billy takes a puff from his cigarette. When he sighs, white smoke billows from his plump, pink lips. “That’s a shame… I was just thinking that you were the most interesting you’d ever been.”

The ebbing tide that had just left you rushes back in a bubbling scarlet wave. His words don’t make you sad anymore, they just make you angry all over again because you know you don’t deserve them. And you’re not entirely sure why he’s chosen you to antagonize out of all the other girls who’d made the mistake of falling for him, but you’re too far past the point of not caring to ask.

“Bother me again and I tell Chief Hopper,” you threaten even though you don’t feel very threatening just now. “I know you’re not scared of me, but you’d be stupid to be scared of him.”

“Why’s that?” he wonders before sticking the half-gone stick between his lips again.

“Because he runs Hawkins. And he fucking hates you—” for what you did to me, you almost say. You swallow the words down like bile before they have the chance to spew out. “And… And be nice to Vicki. Okay? She’s too good for you. Don’t do to her what you did to me.”

Your plea for another is the last thing you say to Billy before you turn away from him. You wouldn’t be upset if it was the last thing you ever said to him. You’re grateful for the resounding silence that follows. It’s nothing but the sound of your receding footsteps and the soles of his shoes scrapping the concrete as he snuffs out his cigarette.

There is no snarky remark or insincere plea — just two people who used to love each other that have no idea to exist together anymore.

When you step outside the brick confines of the alleyway, you feel as though a fraying string that had always connected the both of you had been finally cut.

It allows you to take a deep breath in for the first time in months. A lungful of fresh air that cleanses you, body and mind.

And when you catch Steve and Robin idling at the corner and doing a terrible job of pretending like they hadn’t just been eavesdropping, you don’t get upset or angry with them — you don’t feel much of anything, really.

You just hand the boy his lighter and unused cigarette and let them comfort you on the drive back to your apartment.

A misery sandwich. That’s what Robin calls the three of you and the heaping pile you lay in.

Your queen-sized bed is in no way meant to accomodate three moderately sized adults, but you make it work anyway, like you always do.

Steve lays on his back, legs crossed and hands tucked under his head. Robin is on her stomach on the other end of the mattress, arms wrapped around the pillow she smushes the side of her face into. You lay between the both of them — on the both of them. Sprawled out sideways, you’ve got your head on propped up on Steve’s ribcage and your legs thrown over Robin’s thighs.

The awkward position is the most comfortable you’ve ever been.

“I can’t believe that asshole had the nerve to show up to the diner on our day,” the boy rants. “And then sit in our booth, I mean— who does he think he is?”

Robin’s response is mostly muffled by the pillow. “I thought he left, like, forever ago.”

“Maybe he just couldn’t stay away. It’s Hawkins, shit attracts shit, right?” Steve answers with a shrug that jostles your head slightly. It doesn’t little to knock you from your stupor, though, where you’ve been stuck for the better part of the day. You pick at the skin around your nails with little regard for how red and raging it's gone.

He notices this and thumps you on your temple — hard enough for you to feel it, gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt you.

You turn your chin to your shoulder to look over at him. He tilts his own head to stare down at you, honey-tinted gaze somehow stern and soft at the same time. “If he bothers you again, I’ll kill him.”

You’re instantly warmed by his protective disposition. You know that he cares about you, even though you like to joke that he doesn’t. Steve hurt you once, made a promise to himself to make it up to you, and then just never left you alone.

You’re grateful for it.

You’re not sure who’d be the butt of every joke if he wasn’t around.

“Good to know,” you answer, nodding against his side and trying to hide the smile he gives you. You fail. “You think if he breaks your nose again, it’ll pop back into place?”

His face falls. “You’re real sweet, you know that?”

You open your mouth to respond, something along the lines of “I’m always sweet. You of all people should know that, Stevie,” before a knock sounds at the front door. It comes in the several rhythmic raps that Eddie is known to give when he’s got a tune stuck in his head.

Apparently now, it’s the chorus to “Why Can’t This Be Love?” The Van Halen song he said he couldn’t stand before you.

Robin huffs at the sound of the muffled taps. She frowns like a child. “Who the hell…?”

“It’s just Eddie,” you affirm through a half-hearted grunt as you rise from your comfy position.

That brightens the two of them up almost immediately. Her and Steve share a look you can’t place as they grin at one another. Then they turn back to you with identical mischievous twinkles in their eyes. “Your boyfriend is here,” the former of the two singsongs.

You roll your eyes, but make no move to correct her.

When you stand from the bed and make the short journey towards the door, you hear the patter of their feet following close behind you.

“Gonna go all the way tonight?” Steve teases and jabs you on the shoulder. “Do you want us to leave?”

“No, nothing is happening. And yes, I think you should leave,” you monotone playfully.

Robin rushes past you suddenly and grabs the brass door handle before you’re able. She swings it open without thinking twice about it. Her sudden appearance, coupled with the fact that it isn’t you, startles the man on the other side of the door.

Eddie’s umber eyes go wide, brows raising and disappearing beneath his fluffy bangs, as his head jerks back.

“Eddie Munson,” the girl full-names the stranger she’s never spoken a word to before now. She leans against the doorway and effectively blocks the boy’s view of you. Steve, who squeezes himself in beside her, doesn’t make it any easier. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You too, Buckley…” he wavers, trying to peer past them for any sight of you.

“Perfect timing, Eds,” you call out from behind them. “They were just about to leave.”

He’s relieved at the sound of your voice — even more so at your appearance when the two in front of you step off to the side to toe on their sneakers.

You don’t look much different than when he saw you last. You’ve put on some makeup that’s started to smudge after the long day and changed your baggy sweatshirt for a more fitted tank top and boxers, but other than that you’re still the same. Still familiar and comforting in your way, a home away from home.

His smile is a tired one and it wobbles at the edges. “Oh, shit, am I— am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him. “You’re saving me, actually.”

“Oh, give me a break,” Steve scoffs. “You love us.”

The boy pulls you into a hug before he leaves, and it’s not the rarest thing in the world, but embraces like this do tend to be few and far between. He whispers “use protection” in your ear and then a sharp “ow!” when you jab him in the ribs.

He and Robin smile kindly at Eddie when they walk by him and out the door, but waste barely a second before turning back around and grinning wildly at you. Steve flashes you a thumbs up while she mouths a cartoonish ‘good luck’ — like it’s the first time you and Eddie had ever been alone together. Like they were just on your ass about having been with him this whole time.

You usher Eddie and shut the door behind them. A quiet sort of peace settles on the apartment like a weighted blanket. The boy revels in every bit of its warmth.

Exhaustion drips from him like syrup. He’s sticky with it. His eyes have lost their usual twinkle, weighed down now with the burden of his fatigue. His face has lost most of its color, leaving a pale sheath of monotoned skin, and his hair is wilder than normal, with an unintentional sort of ruggedness to his curls.

It’s what being without you has done to him.

“You okay?” you ask him softly. It almost makes him want to cry.

“Yeah,” he answers anyway and idles in the spot where your kitchen meets your living room. “Just had a pretty shitty day. Wanted to spend time with you.”

“Me too… About the wanting to spend time with you part— and the shitty day part, too, I guess.”

Eddie smiles at your rambling, but purses it to the side to conceal it from you. “And since it is just about our…” he trails off and bends his elbow to check the watch on his wrist. “…Twelve hour anniversary, I picked us up some takeout.”

He sets the plastic bag on the counter. The red logo of Oriental Jade on the side of it makes your stomach roll with a distant hunger. You hadn’t realized how starved you were feeling after you abandoned your early dinner at Benny’s. It makes you more grateful for Eddie, who always seems to be on the same wavelength as you without even trying.

“Keep this up and we’ll be married before we hit hour twenty-four,” you joke as you rifle through the cartons — chow mein, sweet and sour chicken, dumplings, the works.

Eddie settles in next to you, propping his elbows on the countertop. “Well, I’m pretty sure the courthouse opens at nine, so… What were you thinking for the honeymoon? Hawaii? Bora Bora?”

“How about a cabin in the woods where no one can find us?”

“Hmm… Spooky. Sexy. I’m into it.”

You settle in the living room and eat on the couch while She Ra re-runs play on the television. You try to teach Eddie how to use chopsticks, though he can only work them with his non-dominant hand and all the wrong finger placements. You think it’s cute to watch him fumble with them, and you giggle about it until you’re scolding him for trying to feed Bowie some noodles. He laughs as you swat at him.

When all the containers are fully scrapped clean and tossed in the recycling bin, you migrate to the bedroom — which is perhaps too raunchy a phrase to use when the two of you only bury yourselves under the covers to talk shit.

Eddie drags out the chunky box fan you use when the air conditioner goes out in the summer — because it always goes out in the summer — and props it on the chest at the foot of your bed so the covers will billow around the both of you. “And it’s perfect because we can stay in the fort forever and not get hot,” he tells you, all giddy about it like he's a kid again.

“What if I get cold?” you retort.

Without missing a beat, he answers, “Well, lucky enough for you, I know several ways I can warm you up, sweetheart.”

He ditches his leather jacket and strips down to his boxers and settles in beside you underneath the blankets. The two of you lay shoulder to shoulder while you trace absentminded patterns on the palm of his hand and tell him about your day.

You make sure to leave out all the re-traumatizing-Billy-Hargrove bits, though. You focus mainly on the tense drive with Hopper and the small fight you’d had with Steve on the drive to the diner later that afternoon about the lyrics to Love My Way (both of you had been wrong).

Eddie tries his hardest to focus on your story and your fleeting touches, but he’s too far in his own head. You tell him all these things but he can’t stop thinking about himself — about whether or not you might’ve brought him up somewhere in between.

He wouldn’t have blamed you, if you had. Steve and Robin are your closest friends and, for whatever reason, so is Chief Hopper, you’re bound to bring him up eventually. He was just hoping it would’ve been in a better capacity. Maybe about how kind he was or what a god he was in bed — not how he could only be one of those things because he’d never been anything in bed.

“It doesn’t make things weird between us, does it?” he wonders out of the blue.

You halt mid-sentence and turn to him with furrowed brows. “What?”

Eddie realizes then, that the first half of the conversation with you had only happened in his head. He prays that it’s too dark beneath the covers for you to see how red his cheeks get. “Just… What we talked about this morning. About me… you know…” He finds it hard to say the words. Or any of them at all.

“Why would it make things weird?”

“I don’t know. Because I wasn’t… totally honest with you, I guess? I feel a little bad about it, you know?”

“It’s okay,” you assure and turn on your side to be closer to him. Eddie stays on his back, more than happy to let you cuddle further into him. “I guess I do wish you’d said something before, though.”

His chest tightens. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know how to—”

“I’m not saying it to make you feel bad!” you interject quickly when you catch the spiral of regret he was about to twist himself into. You curl tighter into his side, tossing a leg over his thigh and wrapping your hand around his bicep in an effort to melt with him. When he turns to face you, your noses nearly brush.

“That’s not how I meant it. I just meant that, if I’d known before, I wouldn’t have… I would’ve taken things slower. I wouldn’t have been so, you know, so all over you.”

He hates how apologetic you sound. Like there was ever an ounce of him that would want to take back what happened that night at his trailer or a part of him that might hate how much you love on him.

“I liked it. I do like it.”

“Maybe we can just start over,” you offer. “Pretend like none of that ever happened.”

Eddie knows there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to forget about a single damn thing — not his cum stained jeans and how you looked so pretty washing them for him, not the feel of your tits in his mouth or you wrapped around his fingers, not how you made him blow his load all over his fist just by talking to him.

He goes along with it anyway, though, just for you.

“Okay...” he nods slowly, then squints over at you. “You’re still my girlfriend, though, right?”

“Of course I am,” you giggle.

He grins proudly to himself. “Well then… Hope it’s not too early to have our first kiss then?”

It makes you roll your eyes because it’s such an Eddie Munson way of asking to kiss you. You told him earlier the day that he never had to ask you — in fact, you’d prefer it if he’d just kiss you out of the blue and take your breath away without you ever knowing it was coming. But there was something foreign and sweet in his little reassurances.

“Kiss me silly, Eddie Spaghetti,” you beam. He twists on his side to press tiny pecks to your smile.

It’s rather strange, you find, to kiss someone this way without the intention of it ever becoming something more. You kiss him just to kiss him — just to map the outline of his cupid’s bow and memorize the pattern of his tongue. Just to feel him, as much of him as your mouth will allow you to.

With one arm curled under his head and the other cradling your jaw, when his watch alarms — high-pitched beepbeepbeeps in quick succession — it’s sudden and close to your ear.

Your lips click in protest when they part. His are pink and swollen and glossy with your spit. He smiles with them. “Happy twelve hour anniversary, sweetheart.”

“How long are you gonna make that stupid joke?” you laugh like your heart isn’t swelling so much you’re scared it might burst entirely.

“Uh, I was thinking… forever. Yeah. That sounds about right,” he concludes after a moment of feigned thought. He turns his watch off again and you swear you see him set for another twelve hours from now.

“Forever?” you echo.

“Uh-huh. Forever—” he presses his lips to yours once. “—And ever—” Twice. “—And ever.”

Eddie kisses you until you’re flat on your back and surrendering to each of his tiny little pecks. You twist your hands in his hair and let him love on you a little while more. You giggle when his mouth trails from your lips to your chin to your jaw to your neck. Please don’t get bored of me, you beg silently within your laughter.

I don’t think I could even if I wanted to, he answers with each kiss his sprinkles to your starved skin. How could I, when you’re the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me?

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fic #virgin!eddie munson x reader #virgin!eddie munson

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chilumi-shipper · 1 year

Text

Boobsession

Childe x Fem!Reader / Kaeya x Fem!Reader / Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Reader

I am so sorry for the title, I am ashamed

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Lots of mentions of boobs, Horny!Characters, Boob Sucking, Nipple Teasing, Consensual sexual activities while sleeping, Lactation, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting, Reader is pregnant in Ayato's part

Summary:

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Childe

It was late at night, he was tossing and turning next to you.

"Hmmmp..." He groans, somewhat irritated that his body isn't relaxing into the mattress. The ginger just wants some rest, but his body is literally preventing him from sleeping.

Opening his eyes, Childe let out a tired sigh before turning towards your beautiful sleeping figure.

He hates to bother you for the nth night in a row, but ever since you allowed him to do that to you, he couldn't ever possibly fall asleep without it.

"Awww, love. If you like it so much, you're free to do it even when I'm asleep!" He remembers you said cheerfully to him.

At that time, he was suckling on your left boob, his hand groping the other. At the same time, your fingers got tangled with his orange locks, petting and combing it gently as he enjoys his meal.

His mouth waters at the thought of doing it again.

Immediately, he went for the buttons of you (it's actually his) shirt, undoing them to reveal your braless chest and giving him clear access of your mounds.

Your nipples hardened when he uncovers them, your brows knitting at the sudden cold your body felt.

"Sorry, baby..." Childe apologized, despite you still being asleep. He makes sure you don't have to bear the chilling air for too long, as he makes a swift move to place one of your nipples between his lips.

He sucks on it graciously, making sure to lick along with sucking. Feeling a little silly, his hand went up to your neglected boob, before giving the nipple a little pinch.

You almost wanted to bite down on your breast in his mouth to stop himself from giggling when you let out a somewhat annoyed whimper.

Childe then decided that while he makes out with one boob, he abused the other, playing with it by twisting the nipple, groping it hard, he's just so fascinated because of how soft they are.

Blood was rushing to his groin, prompting him to stop what he's doing and cup his growing cock. "Shit..." He cursed in a whisper.

Looking at the boob he had in his mouth for a solid ten minutes, the tip was puffy and swollen. Meanwhile the other was dry and hard, giving the slightest twitch to demand attention.

That's something the ginger couldn't ignore, if your body asks for attention, he has to give it. He's basically making up an excuse to suck on your chest longer.

He adjusted his position, mouth moving onto your neglected breast, one arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as he can, while the other hand enters his pants to ease the growing need for stimulation.

He makes sure to give your chest the love that it needs.

...

"AJAX!!!"

You yelled for him as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Shirt open, boobs out, both absolutely swollen and even have hickeys and bite marks covering them.

You can still feel the slight aching from his mouth last night too.

Childe walked into the bathroom to see you in front of the mirror, his favorite part of your body completely out. "Ahh, they're just so lovely..." He said, absolutely lovestruck at even just the sight of them.

Crossing your arms, you covered yourself and looked at him unamused through the mirror. "You sucked them dry!"

As if proud of himself, smiling brightly. "Awww, but let's hope they're ready for later :D"

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kaeya

"Good morning, darling..." His voice was husky as he hugged you from behind.

His eyes looked down to what you're doing on the kitchen counter, buttering some toast before biting onto the bread right of the bat.

As you were enjoying your breakfast, you felt a cold hand slither into your loose fitting shirt, immediately heading to warm itself on your boob.

You hissed, pouting at how cold his hands are as his other proceeded to do the same.

"Good morning to me? Or to my tits?"

"Hmm... Both." He gave your breasts a nice squeeze.

"Kaeya...!" His lips went on to plant some kissed on your neck. Man, if you did not love this man, you would smack the buttered toast onto his face. Well... perhaps you didn't totally hate what he's doing.

"Your hands are cold!" You complained when both his hands went on to cup your boobs.

The Cavalry Captain chuckled deeply, feeling your nipples harder under his palms. He moved his hands so that his index fingers were pressing onto the tip of your mounds.

"That's right, darling. That's why I'm using my hand warmers today." He clarified, placing a kiss on your cheeks.

You let out a moan as he played with your nipples, dropping your food on the counter. "Mhhmmm, love, can you let me eat first?"

"I'll make you pancakes..." Your eyes lit up when you heard that from him, no longer caring for his hands fiddling with your boobs.

"I want that now! Oh, chocolate chip pancakes, please!" You looked to your side, where is his head is resting on your shoulder.

Kaeya (unfortunately, for him) took his hands off you and walked to the pantry. "You got it, babe."

You then sat down on your seat in the dining table, looking at him expectantly. He's usually too lazy to make breakfast after a night of what you did last night, so you're quite excited.

"Ahh, yes, I almost forgot..." He pulled out a neatly folded garment from the top of the pantry, along with the ingredients he needs for the pancakes he promised. "Wear this." He instructed as he gave you the piece of clothing.

You sat confused, "How'd this get there?"

His blue eyes looked at you knowingly, "I hid it there as a surprise. I hope I see you wearing it around the house, since you can't wear it anywhere else."

Unfolding the garment, you see that it's a thin, black and white floral dress, the most prominent component being that it's completely open chest, no fabric getting in the way of him seeing your tits when you wear it.

You gave him a pointed look, which he can only chuckle at. "What? It's a mutually beneficial deal. You get your chocolate chip pancakes, I get to see your boobs with no covers." He smiled at you as you stood up from your chair.

"You better be ready with those pancakes when I come back, you one-eyed pervert." You bantered with him before running off to change.

Kaeya was amused to say the least, plus a little disappointed that you didn't just change in front of him.

...

Kaeya stared at the beautiful masterpiece eating chocolate chip pancakes in front of him, his chin resting on his hand as his expression showed contentment.

Your nipples were perky, perhaps due to literally being out and about. The dress itself was high quality, like your most comfortable night gown.

You catch him staring at you. "You're not gonna eat pancakes?" You asked him with your mouth half full.

He can only smile and shake his head no, "I'm just waiting for my own breakfast to be ready soon. You almost done?"

You see his eyes land on your exposed chest. "...Fine, wouldn't want you starving to death." You acted as if you weren't excited about what he's going to do to you in the debut of your new outfit.

You're both glad it's his day-off that day.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kamisato Ayato

The Yashiro Commissioner noticed something.

And it has been bugging him ever since he discovered that something to be true.

"Lord Kamisato, my lady's maternity clothes have arrived!" Thoma made it known to him about the delivery, as he then instructed the retainer to bring the deliveries to his office.

When has his mind became so... imaginative?

You entered his office excited and giddy, your eyes scanning until they land on the box of clothes placed on his desk.

"Are those my new clothes?" Your eyes sparkled as you skipped towards him. You are terribly cute, Ayato couldn't even help but smile.

Your husband stood from his chair, proceeding to your side to open the box for you.

"Yes, my dear. Would you like to try them now?" He gently slid him arm around you waist, caressing the side of your five month baby bump gingerly.

You nodded eagerly, making him chuckle. He knew just how much you wanted some actually loose clothes, because of the baby bump and all.

...And also... perhaps your... ahem.... chest have gotten much bigger....

He just happened to notice that.

You got to pick out the most comfortable type of fabric for you, as well as custom designs for your maternity kimonos.

Opening the box, you pulled out two hadajuban and koshimaki, along with four kimonos. One was a dark colored constellation theme, another was yellow with a print of Taroumaru scattered all around it, there was also one designed with pastel colored florals. The last one, Ayato assumes to be more formal, as it matches the colors of him and the Kamisato Estate.

You didn't even bother to go to a different room. Locking the door of his office, you rid yourself of all of your clothes, excited to try on your new ones.

'There's no problem in looking.' Ayato reminded himself, as he felt as if he was a total pervert for ogling his own wife. 'You're her husband!'

His hands clenched when you took off the final piece of clothing on your body. There it again... That thought.

'Of course, it's getting bigger! She's producing milk for our child! It's normal...'

It being normal doesn't stop it from being arousing to him though. He caught himself as he felt his mouth water.

"How do I look?" You had the Taroumaru kimono on, looking at him expectantly.

Ayato had to shake his head, feeling flustered as he looked at you. Naturally, you looked beautiful, no matter what you're wearing.

But if he's being honest... he would really like everything off again.

The Yashiro Commissioner was so deep in thought about your naked body that he didn't even notice you walk pass him to look at the box again.

"Ayato, look! There's a smaller box of clothes here!" His head snapped to your direction, in your hands were the box he tried to hide from you before you could walk into him office.

"Ahh... That's nothing!" He exclaimed in a panic, but you already had the box open at that point.

It was an impulsive decision to order something like that. Ayato wiped his face with his hand in frustration.

All because he can't stop thinking about you... and your bosoms. He's not even sure if you'll like wearing that kind of thing!

Oh, but the thought of you being in such a slutty like outfit, breasts visible and tummy swollen... he can feel his pants tightening.

You pulled out a lace lingerie from the box, matching black panties and an almost see through bra with almost like a curtain attached at the bottom for the pregnant belly.

You stared at the piece of clothing for a while, making Ayato nervous. "Love, I apologize if you don't—"

"I wanna try this one now!" You turned to him, giving him a big smile.

...

Fuck...

You're gorgeous...

You stood in front of him, fiddling with your fingers. Were you nervous?

You shouldn't be, the look on Ayato's face should already be enough to tell you how much he loved the piece on you.

So much so that he sat you on the couch of his office, immediately going to kiss your lips.

His hand went for your breast, sliding underneath the lace to caress your bare skin.

When he squeezed your boob, however, you both pulled away from each other, feeling something drip down from the peak of your bosom.

Milk.

Dripping down your bump ever so slowly.

And Ayato couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take another second without you in his mouth.

His lips wrapped themselves around your clothed nipple, sucking on it and hoping more of your sweet milk comes out.

The Yashiro Commissioner was not disappointed, as a sweet liquid filled his mouth, his ears feeling blessed when you moaned in delight.

"Love... Ohhh, please keep going..." You begged for him, placing your hand delicately on his head, encouraging him to keep on sucking.

Lucky for you, he doesn't intend to stop. But he does hesitate for a hit when he felt you grab his hand.

"Ayato~" A beautiful moan of his name from your mouth, before you guided his hand down to your covered pussy, in which he then realized how wet your new panties were.

He couldn't say anything to tease you, his mouth to busy drinking from your boob. But he does give your panties a little tug upwards, making the fabric rub your sensitive little clit.

Ayato is very good at multitasking, so he pulled the crotch of your panties aside, exposing your cunt to him.

Unfortunately, the tit he's been sucking dry is running out of the sweet milk, so he adjusted his position to move on to your other one.

Archons, the moans that came from your mouth as he pleasured your body was sinful, he hopes to hear more of it when he shoves some fingers into your pussy.

"Hmmmp—Ahhhh!" You felt two gloved fingers breach your hole, rubbing along your walls. This along with what he's doing with his mouth and the fact that you're a lot more sensitive due to pregnancy was doing a lot for you.

The slightest bit of stimulation and you're gonna cum. So when Ayato begins to finger you at a faster rate, hitting that certain spot he knows you really like, you couldn't last long.

"Aughhh... Haah..." Not even a minute of his fingers in you and you squirt all over the wooden floor of his office.

Your back rested on the sofa, tired from just reaching your climax. Ayato parted from your breast with a pop, humming in satisfaction.

Standing up, his eyes looked at the full image of you. Panting from cumming so hard, swollen breasts covered with wet lace due to his mouth, your tummy carrying his child, legs wide open with panties pushed aside to show off your cunt. Truly a sight to remember.

"...Thank you, Ayato..." You smiled, thanking him in an almost slurred and soft voice. "I really like this outfit..."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Boobs are nice :))

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #kaeya x reader #genshin impact kaeya #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin impact ayato #kaeya smut #ayato smut #kamisato ayato smut #childe x reader #childe smut #genshin impact childe

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guillotinebypierre · 6 months

Text

Sex,

A sexual activity typically involving the insertion and thrusting of the penis into the vagina for sexual pleasure or reproduction.

Historically, the reasons people have sex have been assumed to be few in number and simple to understand. In nature, to reproduce, to experience pleasure, or to relieve sexual tension. Several theoretical perspectives suggest that motives for engaging in sexual intercourse may be larger in number and psychologically complex in nature, meaning that sex helps people form bonds, no matter if they're purely off sexual attraction or emotional attachment.

In theory, one night stands are thus something positive as one can live through all the good parts of sex without the attachment.

Or so you thought.

Y/n L/n never liked one night stands. At least until a certain point.

Back in 2015, when he was still a young and innocent boy, only 18 years of age he had gotten the opportunity of a lifetime, getting to work overseas with incredible pay and getting to know a totally different culture than the one he was used to.

So he took it.

In January 2015 Y/n went to South Korea and studied and worked there for 8 months. 8 months in which he got to know and got to love the culture. He wanted to stay longer, but he knew he couldn't. He had a life back in his home country. He had family, he had school and he had a girlfriend.

But that mindset changed entirely when he came home and found said girlfriend cheating on him as those 6 months were apparently 'too long' for her to wait for him.

This put Y/n in a bad situation, literally, as he had declined the company's offer of moving to South Korea , and figuratively, as he was mentally fucked up from that emotional abuse.

Y/n ran towards the organizers, calling them frantically and asking if there was a way for the offer to be reinstated, and much to his surprise, they gladly took him back in and got his ass on a flight the next day.

He didn't realize it yet, or maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself, but he had already started missing South Korea. He boarded the plane, his phone constantly vibrating as his (now ex) girlfriend kept calling and texting him asking for forgiveness, but he didn't pay her no mind as he shut his phone off and smiled while watching the plane take off.

Y/n landed after what was a surprisingly calming 14 hour flight and got picked up by a chauffeur from the company, who took him back to the place he had called home up until a few days ago.

The first few nights were rough, as tears were shed and all the negative feelings Y/n had been suppressing started becoming too much to handle.

Y/n had never been one to drink alcohol, as he believed the negative aspects and especially the hangover were too much to be outweighed by a quick night of fun, yet something moved him to go to a bar that night. He dressed up, putting on a loose fitting white dress shirt, leaving the top three buttons upon as he was wearing a chain, some black trousers and finally, some black loafers.

It was a warm summer night in Seoul, adults and teenagers still outside even though it was getting late. The sun was just setting, the streets were lively and it seemed like every single light that could have been on at the time was on. Y/n drove through the city, music blasting in his car as he sighed. He still didn't understand how his life had turned out like this, he didn't get why reality had hit him like that all of a sudden, but his thoughts were soon swept away as his GPS announced his arrival at the destination.

The bar was full, about what one would expect of a bar in the middle of one of the most populated cities in the world during a summer night. The smell of alcohol and nicotine paired with sweat and sex stung in Y/n's nostrils as he walked through the bar, dodging drunk men hitting on women and waitresses bringing customers their drinks. Music blasted through the speakers, fueling the lust that was oozing out of every pore inside the building.

"That money is the only thing I'm chasin'

And some dope dimes on some coke lines

Gimme head all night, cum four times

Baby girl just wanna smoke a pound

Do an ounce, get some dick, tell her friends about it"

"One Lemon Vodka Cocktail please", Y/n told the bartender as he sat down.

"Go tell your friends about it

Go tell your friends about it

Go tell 'em what you know, what you seen

How I roll, how I get it on the low"

"I'll have the same thing he ordered please", a voice suddenly interrupted the music.

Y/n looked to his right and saw a woman who he could only describe as angel like. She had long, dark brown hair and wore a short black skirt which stopped a bit above her knees paired with a black vest blazer that exposed her toned stomach. She had very subtle make up on and her red lipstick accentuated her plump lips. She smiled at Y/n showing her bunny like teeth as she turned her body towards Y/n and held the side of her face with one arm, which was propped up on the table in front of them.

"You have good taste in drinks", she began.

"Thank you. I don't really like alcohol, though. I usually don't drink.", he answered.

"Oh really ? What's the special occasion then ?"

"Just need to lay my mind off some things.", he responded vaguely.

"Oh I get that. I normally don't drink either but I felt like I needed something to relieve my stress.", she replied while sipping her drink.

"What's gotten you all pent up ? Is it work related or something else ?", he asked her.

"Definitely work. I just feel so frustrated all the time and I'm still unsure about whether or not I'm gonna make it and it's just so draining, mentally and physically."

"Hey, relax. Take a deep breath. I'm here.", Y/n said while grabbing her shoulder. The woman had started tearing up and it was clear that whatever it is that was bothering her, it was taking a toll on her.

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking ? You look pretty young and I don't think it's normal for people our age to be this stressed.", he asked her after buying her another drink.

"Oh I'm 20. How old are you ? You look pretty young yourself.", she answered while wiping away the tears from before.

"I'm 18. That means you're my noona, right? Sorry I'm pretty new to the country and the honorifics sometimes mess me up.", he said.

The woman blushed at the honorific before nodding.

The two young adults talked for hours, not even realizing how late it was getting as their conversation blended out all outside noises. Not a single tone of the continuous onslaught of R&B music being blasted nor the loud laughter of girls gossiping with their friends.

"Oh shit it's already 11 o'clock I should be going home", the woman said while frantically taking her things and throwing some bills next to her drink.

Y/n got up and walked behind her, seeing her take out her phone and making a call.

"FUCK I don't have any data to call anyone.", She said while kicking an empty beer can on the floor.

"Do you want me to drive you ? My car is right there", Y/n said while walking up to her.

"Oh no I don't want to bother you, I live halfway across the city..", she answered while looking down.

"I-I could take you to my place then if you want? It's not that far away and I can sleep on the couch.", Y/n said while blushing

"And here I thought I was forward, at least take me on a date first", she jokingly said while hitting his shoulder

"No but in all seriousness, I don't want you going through Seoul all alone at night."

"Wow such a gentleman, how could I possibly refuse such an offer, then", she said while smiling and walking with him to his car.

The pair soon drove away as Y/n's new friend quickly took control of the aux and started playing a few pop songs by what Y/n got to know as Kpop group F(x).

The duo soon arrived at their destination as Y/n opened the lock and walked in with the woman walking behind him while looking around.

His house was designed in a minimalist aesthetic. A white kitchen , white living room with one big couch, a large television and a nice rug with a coffee table on if. He had plants distributed evenly across the different areas of the living space, giving it a nice and cozy atmosphere. Y/n walked further into the house as the woman soon heard an almost timid meow coming from what she assumed to be the master bedroom. The door opened and out came a small black kitten which walked between Y/n's legs and started nuzzling it's head against his head.

She picked the kitten up and started babying it, giving it lots of kisses before Y/n suddenly spoke up.

"This is the room you'll be sleeping in for the night. You can just pick out any of my clothes to sleep in. Theres a bathroom at the end of the corridor where you can shower and I'll be in the living room if you need anything.", he said before closing the door and walking away.

The woman picked out a comfortable looking sweatshirt and a pair of joggers before walking into his bathroom. She immediately noted how clean it was, she saw an assortment of different colognes and a towel which looked like it could fit two of her, before walking into the shower and letting the warm water fall on her, relaxing all the sore muscles. She let out a sigh of relief before continuing to wash herself.

After showering and doing a reduced version of her night routine, she laid herself down on the bed and tried to sleep. Keyword tried. She tossed and turned but something just wasn't right. She thought a bit about it, and she quickly realized it was Y/n. She wasn't blind, she thought he was handsome, cute even. He was a great conversation partner, he wasn't a drunk idiot unlike the other men in that bar, he wasn't hitting on her in a way that made her uncomfortable and he even was so kind to offer her a place to stay for the night. She didn't want to admit it to herself as she thought it was ridiculous that she could fall for someone she met only 5 hours ago but here she was, laying in his bed, wearing his clothes, in his house.

"Fuck it I'm sick of this shit", she thought to herself before walking out of the room and seeing Y/n peacefully sleeping on the couch

"He's pretty", she whispered out loud.

She slowly crept towards his laying figure before opening the blanket and sliding into his sleeping figure, an action that didn't go unnoticed by him as he began to wake up.

"What the- Oh did you need something?", he asked her while slowly sitting up.

"It was getting lonely there", she replied.

"Oh I'm sorry. I could've given you my kitten if you-"

"Just shut up and kiss me already", she interrupted him before closing the distance and finally doing what she felt she should've done at the bar already.

The kiss was a bit awkward at first as Y/n was still too stunned at the situation to realize what was happening but after a few seconds he started kissing back. He moved her to his lap, putting his hands on her ass as he slowly smiled into the kiss. The pair continued until they forcefully separated due to lack of oxygen.

"I should've done that at the bar already"

They looked at each other and smiled before leaning in and kissing each other once more. Y/n switched their positions, grabbing the woman by her waist and laying her down, with him on top of her. He continued kissing her as his mouth soon moved lower and he started sucking on her neck.

"Pl-please no hick-eys. I-I don't want to have to sp-spend time covering-ah covering them up", she said while closing her eyes as he attacked her sweet spot. He nodded before making quick work of her- of his sweatshirt and throwing it somewhere on the floor. His lips and hands continued traveling further down her body as he saw the lack of a bra. Y/n toyed with her sensitive nipples, he pinched one while sucking on the other before switching.

The moonlight illuminated the living room as he saw the trail of saliva tracing his path down her body. Her eyes were still shut down while her back arched and her mouth was open, continuously letting out small whimpers and moans as Y/n worked around her body. He went further down, slowly kissing down her flat stomach before stopping at the waistband of the joggers. He looked up at her as she nodded, understanding that he was waiting for her consent, before he slowly took them off, throwing them too into the pile if clothing that now housed his shirt too. Y/n looked at her panties, the lacy red pair having an obvious wet spot right in the center, before taking them off and immediately diving in.

She tasted sweet. It was addicting. He slurped her up like water, drinking every single drop like he had been stranded in a desert. The woman cried out in pleasure as she grabbed a fistful of Y/n's hair and pressed him further into her hot core. Her back arched even more as her thighs pressed against the sides of Y/n's head. Her legs shook, her toes curled and her mouth drooled as her body completely shut down and exploded back to live all within a few seconds as her first orgasm of the night hit her like a bullet and shook her to her core.

Her juices dripped down the sides of her thighs and down to her asshole as Y/n frantically licked every spot he could find clean as to not waste a single drop of his equivalent to the elixir of life.

Her breaths grew heavier as she tried to calm down from her high. She sat up, looking hungrily at her lover as she noticed the obvious, painful looking bulge in his pants. She kneeled between his legs, her pussy juices dripping down onto the floor, and started to take his pants off. He was soon left with only his boxers before she took them off too and got hit with his cock as it sprang onto her forehead.

"I definitely should have made a move on you earlier", she said before leaning forward and taking the tip into her mouth.

She licked around the base, having to adjust a bit as she had never worked with something that big before, before diving in and taking a couple of inches down her throat. Her throat was tight, her tongue and throat muscles working expertly together as she started milking him dry. She continued laying on the pleasure as she jerked the part, which didn't fit in her mouth, in a circular motion while also playing with his heavy balls. She continued her oral attack for a few minutes before taking his member out of her mouth with a satisfying pop and standing up.

She sat on his lap before standing up a bit and guiding his large penis into her tight and awaiting pussy. She slowly inserted the tip before slowly squatting and taking it inch by inch. Her hands locked around his neck, pressing his head into her chest as she bit her lip while trying to get used to his large size filling her to the brim. She took a few moments before slowly moving her hips, riding him expertly in a circular motion.

She moved her hips, mimicking a belly dancer as she now stopped trying to contain her moans. She let out heavy breathy noises, which coupled with Y/n's groans and moans as he put his hands onto her ass, squeezing it and using it to guide her around his dick. The room was filled with wet slapping noises as her soaked vagina slammed down on his hard cock. The pair continued their make out session as the kisses turned from passionate to lustful, tongues battling for dominance as it was now unsure whether their top or bottom connection was wetter.

Y/n pounded into her as their hips moved in sync, his lap drenched in her juices as she had came twice while on top of him. He attacked her breasts again, making her moan and scream for him to fuck her harder and faster. He slapped her ass, asscheeks recoiling and moving like a wave hitting a quiet mass of water as he felt himself getting closer and closer. Her walls tightened around him as her orgasm approached once more. She shut her eyes close as they rolled into the back of her head, her thighs quivering and squeezing against Y/n's torso. She clamped around him, gripping him tightly as her muscles contracted around his dick. He throbbed and throbbed while she moaned in his ear that he could bust inside, before he reached his limit and let everything go, shooting thick spurts into her stomach.

They stayed in that position, hugging each other, until both of them passed out from exhaustion.

Y/n woke up the following morning with a bit of a sore lower body, confused as he didn't feel someone on top of him. He stood up, checking the bedroom and the bathroom before walking back and noticing a small note on top of the coffee table.

"Dear Y/n,

yes, I did get your name from your ID inside your wallet but don't worry I didn't take anything ;)

I wanted to thank you, for both the best night of my life (I'm still feeling sore :( ) and for being such a kind person. I was pretty down yesterday, and the stress was really getting to me, but you truly helped with that, and for that I want to thank you.

Sadly, I had to leave you early due to work and as much as I would've loved to stay in your arms (you look pretty while sleeping) I decided to leave so my boss doesn't fire me.

I hope you understand and aren't mad at me.

Love xoxo"

He read the note over and over again, looking for one particular piece of information before giving up on the tenth read and realizing he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

He did not get her name. He did not get her phone number. He met the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and had no chance to see her again.

-- time skip --

Eight years.

It had been eight years since what was now known as Y/n's greatest experience ever. He had gone out every weekend. Every weekend going around Seoul in the hopes of finding her again. He had slept with a lot of people in the hopes of finding someone to replace her with but to no success.

The sex with her was amazing but with anyone else it was just alright. They had gone all night but no one else had been able to make him feel the same way she did.

While planning another one of his trips, Y/n suddenly got a call from one of his closest friends.

"Y/N STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING RIGHT NOW", his friend screamed at him through the phone.

"Why-"

"DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING PLANNED TOMORROW?", he continued

"I'm going to the gym in the morning but other than that-"

"CANCEL EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW"

"I don't have anything to cancel-"

"I SAID CANCEL EVERYTHING"

"Alright fine damn but whats the occasion? Are you getting married?"

"BETTER, I GOT US TWO FRONT ROW TICKETS FOR THE TWICE CONCERT-"

"I don't even like Kpop like that-"

"YOU ARE COMING WITH ME. BE READY AT 4 o'clock TOMORROW. BYE", and with that he hung up.

"What have I gotten myself into", Y/n thought to himself before going to the kitchen and getting something to eat.

The morning soon came once again as Y/n left to go to the gym. He had heard of TWICE, of course, everyone had. But he didn't get Kpop like many of his friends did. He had a few groups that he liked but to him the industry was a very weird and toxic place, a place in which idols are seen as objects to fuel parasocial relationships and get money off of them, but then again, he had been sleeping around Seoul in the hopes of finding a woman he had met eight years ago so maybe he wasn't in the greatest position to talk about healthy relationships.

Time flew by as he was now walking with his friend around the venue, his friend deciding now would be a good idea to give him a rundown of the last eight years of TWICE's career until (thankfully) someone interrupted him as they tapped Y/n's shoulder.

"Excuse me, I saw you from a bit away and I thought you were really handsome. I wanted to ask if I could maybe get your number?", a girl asked him.

She wore a black bucket hat and a mask, black tight fitting jeans which gave a great look on her plump ass and a black turtleneck under a big black leather coat. Y/n didn't know what it was but her voice reminded him of someone, he just didn't know who.

"Oh yeah sure. Here's my phone, just type it in and send me a message to see if its good", he said while smiling down to her.

She took his phone off of him and started typing before giving it back to him. His phone vibrated soon after that as he saw the notification.

Nay❤️

Hey handsome <3

"Seems like everything worked, I'll talk to you later then. Have fun on the concert, handsome", she said before quickly getting on her toes, lovering her mask and kissing him on his cheek.

"How the fuck do you do it ,Y/n? This shit ain't fair you didn't even have to do anything! Show me you moves please-", his friend started pestering him as they walked towards their seats.

The show wouldn't start for another hour and a half so Y/n decided to text Nay in the meantime. The two went back and forth, teasing and flirting until she asked him to meet up after the show.

Nay❤️

I'm actually staying here until Monday morning. Would you like to meet up tonight ? I can send you my hotel address and room number. I'd really like to get to know you a bit more without, you know, so many people around us

And with that he had a plan for after the show.

The wait soon stopped as lights went out and a loud tune could be heard from across the venue. Y/n quickly recognized it as the opening chords to TWICE's TT. The girls stepped out, all looking gorgeous as they waved around at the fans. Y/n looked at each of them until his eyes fell on one girl and a sudden realization hit him.

Eight years ago he had fucked Nayeon. As in Im Nayeon. As in he had spent almost a decade going after an idol whom he had fucked once before she had debuted. Then it all clicked. The reason why she was so stressed was because of training. The reason why she didn't want any hickeys was because she couldn't be seen with them without getting in trouble. The reason she had to leave sooner was because she needed to be at her dorm for practice.

His eyes widened as everything suddenly made sense. Y/n looked back at the stage flabbergasted before realizing Nayeon was looking at him with a sly smirk on her face, as if she had read his thoughts. She waved at him, blowing a kiss and winking as the person behind him thought they had their main character moment.

"DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT NAYEON TOTALLY WINKED AT ME?????"

The concert went over quickly as Y/n's friend screamed his voice out while chanting the girls' names. Y/n had fun too, even though he spent most of his time looking at Nayeon. The two friends soon parted ways as Y/n got into his car and drove to the location Nay had sent him.

Y/n arrived at the hotel, noticing how luxurious it was as he made his way through security and told the receptionist that someone was expecting him.

He rode the elevator up until the final floor as his hands started getting sweaty. The last eight years had led up to this, he had looked for her ever since he was 18, he was 25 now and he couldn't believe it. One thing was for sure, though. He had let her go once and he sure as fuck wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He got to the door, checking his messages five times over to make sure the numbers matched up but there was nothing wrong. Room 2010, this was it.

He knocked on the door three times and it was as if every movement was in slow motion. He waited. Nothing happened. He waited again. Nothing happened. Just as he was about to knock again the door opened and he was suddenly pulled inside, all he could hear was the sound of the door closing and locking in record speed.

He looked around before noticing a smaller person with a large head of brown hair crash into him and hug him. He looked down and just as he was about to say something the person crashed their lips against his. It was a familiar feeling, a familiar taste. Cherries and a slight hint of vanilla. He was sure it was her.

The kiss continued for what felt like an eternity until both of them were forcibly pulled apart due to lack of oxygen.

Y/n looked down, panting heavily before seeing the bunny teeth he had been so desperately searching for the past eight years of his life. He broke out into a huge grin as the person in fron of him broke out into tears and hugged him.

"Hey, relax. Take a deep breath. I'm here. And I'm not leaving anymore.", he said, having major deja vu feelings.

"I'm so sorry for leaving you without a name or number it's just that-"

"Dating bans and whatnot, I understand Nay. Don't stress it", Y/n interrupted her while hugging her.

"I have been searching for you for the past eight years Y/n. You can't imagine how happy I was once I recognized your handsome face in the crowd during our concert."

"I've been looking for you the past eight years too Nay. You wouldn't believe the lengths I've gone to to try and find you but all I found was disappointment.", he said while laughing lightly.

The two sat in silence on the bed, Nayeon laying her head on his shoulder as he rubbed circles along her back. She finally had him back in her arms and she knew one thing. She wasn't letting him go this time.

Nayeon looked up from his shoulder, seeing him smile while looking at her , before she did what she wanted to do every day for the past eight years and kissed him. The kiss was different than the one before. It was raw, it was full of emotions, it was full of sorrow, full of pain, full of regret. It was an accumulation of everything she had wanted to give him for damn near a decade.

The pair kissed. They took breaks to catch their breath and then kissed again. The kissing soon led to making out as Y/n fell back on his back and Nayeon attacked his neck, sucking on it hard as if she wanted to mark her territory. She played with his hair with one hand while the other palmed his growing bulge. Her hands found their way towards the bottom of his shirt, ripping it off his head as she trailed down his muscular body, licking across his abs and sending shivers down his spine. Nayeon then took off his belt, throwing it away and pulling down his pants and underwear in one swift motion

His erect penis sprung at her, hitting her in the face once more just like it had all those years ago. She immediately took him inside her throat, inch by inch, as she coated most of the length with a layer of saliva. She did the combo once more, stroking his shaft with her hands while fondling his balls before she was suddenly picked up and felt her tights and panties being ripped open. She then felt a wet tongue entering her pussy as her eyes rolled back and she backed up into Y/n's face, using him as a seat. She grinded on his tongue, riding it expertly as he ate her out like she was his last meal while she was ecstatic.

Nayeon's suite was filled with wet noises as Y/n ate her soaked pussy out, it was filled with moans as she screamed his name and creamed on his face, it was then filled with slurping noises as she bent down and sucked his dick again until it was finally filled with a high pitched scream as Nayeon's body shuddered, her thighs closing in against Y/n's head and her pussy released it's sweet juices on his face.

Nayeon fell to the side, wanting to catch her breath, but Y/n had other plans. He picked the idol by her waist, positioning her over his cock as he plunged his thick cock inside her slippery super soaker. She gripped his dick immediately, not letting him ago as the tip continuously hit her weak spot, her walls tightening around him as he felt every single fiber of her sex muscle. She bit his shoulder, leaving bite marks across his anterior and posterior deltoid as she came on his dick once more, forming a big puddle on her bed sheets. He grabbed her ass as support before using it to slam her down while thrusting into her, occasionally slapping her ass cheeks leaving them bright red in comparison to her pale skin. One hand went down as he started playing with her sensitive clit, while the other continued on her ass for support before he changed that, too, and used it to play with her nipples.

Nayeon soon started throwing it back on his cock, twerking on it as she showed him how her hips moved, before she felt a familiar feeling of her orgasm approaching, making her squirt her juices on Y/n's muscular body. He continued relentlessly fucking her as he felt his end nearing, dick throbbing as his thrusts got sloppier and he focussed on hitting as deep as possible. Nayeon moaned into his ear, once more telling him to come inside, as he stroked for one last time before burying himself deeply inside her tight snatch and unloading every last drop of cum he had stored in his balls, holding her tight to make sure she got every last drop inside her.

The pair soon collapsed, as a large pool of sperm started oozing out of Nayeon's pussy while she sighed in a satisfied way. Y/n turned to his side, looking Nayeon deep into the eyes as he started speaking.

"You know, I never realized you were an idol until a few hours ago."

"I know. It surprised me back then already. Our survival show was already being published and you didn't recognize me at all. It was one of the big reasons why I trusted you like I did."

"I feel like we have so much to talk about, Nayeon. You're so gorgeous, I'm not letting you go. Not again."

"Who knew you were a hopeless romantic, Y/n"

"And here I was trying to give compliments"

"Pabo I love you too. I'm not letting you go either. I don't trust the women in this city. Did you see how many of our fans were eye fucking you at the concert? I can't let that happen. This dick and the person it's attached to are property of Im Nayeon and Im Nayeon only."

She stood up while laughing, limping slowly towards the bathroom before tuning around and speaking again.

"You know, we could shower together, save water costs and what not?", Nayeon said while pointing behind her.

"I don't think we'll be saving any water but I'll gladly join you."

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