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#this is self indulgent as shit
oobbbear · 2 months
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Dialogue assignment, audio from help wanted 2
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nouverx · 7 months
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Little moments between Koby and Hermeppo in the live action that I liked a lot
Can we talk about how cute Koby was at Hermeppo calling him a friend?? I am unwell
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Also I think Hermeppo accidentally created a demon that day
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cosmicwhoreo · 2 months
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lil sailor
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peanutseagle · 3 months
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imagine being obsessed with drawing your crush haha couldn't be me 💕
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moongreenlight · 5 months
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I love your work about the 141 gossiping about Ghost, love the concept of him having a “secret wife”.
Please please please write more with “secret wife y/n”, I beg of you. 🙏🏻
ANYTHING FOR YOU, ANON. <3 Ghost and secretwife!reader are my sweet babies I love them so much.
Tw: blond Simon & smiling Simon. Read at your own risk.
If there’s one thing Gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up. And if there was ever a time to employ that skill, it was now. Now after he’d been frozen watching the two of you reunite after a close call. After he’d discovered your dirty little secret. Suddenly feeling like Icarus after flying too close to the sun. Hurtling back down to earth. He was certain that when he moved there would be a crater under his feet where his stomach dropped.
He’d gone so green that another nurse came up and gently tugged on his arm to see if he was alright. He snapped his jaw shut, nodding and mumbling something that didn’t sound anywhere near reassuring. But he forced himself to leave the medbay. Left the two of you behind the curtain, where in his final glance back he saw that your feet were still neatly on top of Ghost’s big boots. Pushed up on your toes to be able to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
He made some excuse not to meet with you that evening. Could barely look you in the eye when you caught him in the hall, looking significantly more cheery than you had been that morning. You pried, asking if he was alright, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand, but he claimed the stress of their mission had just hit him and he really needed to sleep.
It took him weeks to get over the initial shock. Couldn’t stand next to Ghost during conditioning. Made a point of sitting catty-corner to him during meetings and in transit so he had the least chances of accidentally catching his eye. Feeling like he’d deeply bastardized the idea of ‘Ghost.’ Blurred the lines between the man Gaz knew and the man he was in private.
He tried to reason with himself. Keep it fresh in his mind that he’d seen the signs, just hadn’t been able to fully connect the dots by himself. And it was an accident. He’d never intentionally pry into either of your personal lives like that. It wasn’t in his character. There was nothing innately wrong with the two of you hiding a marriage. Probably would have been an HR nightmare. Gotten both of you re-stationed. He was certain you both had a good reason to hide it. And there was no better person to find out than him. He’d actually be able to keep it a secret. Soap would immediately run his mouth. Get on the intercoms and scream the news as loud as he could. Price would pull the both of you aside and try to have some heart-to-heart. Not that it wouldn’t have been nice, it just would have felt too forced. Wouldn’t have served any real purpose.
So eventually he gets over it. Never pressed you about your marriage again, and you never seemed too keen on following up his request from months ago. The dust settles in his mind. He shelves the information like an old book. Life goes on.
And then the weather turns. Starts getting colder. The first few weeks of cold after summer where the wind stings a little more. Finds it’s way through jackets and uniforms a little more artfully. Soldiers are catching ill and passing it around like it’s a competition of who can infect the entire base. The medbay is busy, but a different kind of busy than summer when it’s an optimal time to see missions through.
The medics are tasked with rounding up all the soldiers on base and issuing flu vaccines to hopefully prevent further spread. You trudge to Price’s office in the early morning. He notices you look a little pale. The rims of your eyes and tip of your nose are blotchy. A gentle shade of pink that he assumes is from the weather or the cold you were bound to catch. You chat for a bit, catch up because you haven’t had the opportunity for a few weeks. Let him know that he and the boys need to make their way to the bay for their shots at some point.
You feel a little woozy. Pressing into his doorframe for support, white-knuckling it to keep yourself from swaying in your spot. He looks a little concerned. Asks if you need to take a few days away to recoup. You wave him off, tell him it’s nothing you can’t handle, but he insists on walking you back to medbay. And he’s glad he did because on the short walk back you find yourself having to duck into a dark meeting room so you can vomit into a trash can.
He keeps a steadying arm wrapped around your waist when you stumble back out into the hall. Shaking his head when you profusely apologize. Slowing his normally long strides so you were comfortable. Gently lets you down on your own cot and instructs you to stay where you are while he goes to find a few other doctors that can delegate your work for the day between them so you can have the day off.
He sends you home despite your protest. You’d already gotten your color back. Claimed you must’ve had something off to eat. He wasn’t having it. Said he wouldn’t have his best doctor spreading sick because she’s too stubborn to get off her feet for a few hours. He’s a bit more stern than usual because he knows you won’t listen otherwise, but he brings you a ginger ale and sits next to your bed until you’ve finished it.
Later that day, when he and the boys finally get around to the bay for vaccines, he notices the way Ghost’s eyes dart around like he was looking for something. His shoulders tensing when he sees your station empty, and moments after he’s taken his shot, Price sees that he’s slunk off to a corner to make a phone call.
He doesn’t think much of it. He’s been trying to give Ghost some space. So he just shrugs it off. Let’s him finish up whatever he’s doing before they get back to work.
The boys have gotten in the habit of taking a week off as the snow melts. Just before Spring brings rain and the soft buds of new leaves on the trees. Unofficial tradition proposed early on to have a few more days rest before things inevitably picked up again. Usually gave the boys time to kick off to visit family or get some well needed time away from base. Get in a well needed break because God knew they wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future.
Soap finds himself a little North of Manchester in his time off. Went out to see his godparents in Bolton for a couple days before getting back up to Iverness to see his parents. Meandering through a supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine for his godmother and a bottle of bourbon for himself. Could have sworn he saw Simon turning a corner at the end of the aisle. Chalked it up to a trick of the light. Seeing things after months of close quarters with his L.T.
But then he saw the man again. Stood in line at the butcher’s counter. No mask, but the same crooked nose and cropped blond hair. Same scar hooking his jaw. Swapped out his uniform and gear for a thick leather jacket, white shirt, and a pair of jeans. Would have been unrecognizable if Johnny didn’t know him so well.
He was about to head over to say hello. Make some wise crack about Ghost missing him too much, but he was stilled for a moment when a woman approached Simon. Pushed her cart up next to him and nudged his side with her hip. Prompted him to give her a small smile- the only smile Soap had ever seen Simon grace anyone with. No teeth, just a curve of his lips, but it changed his face completely.
Ghost said something to the woman. She reached up to fuss with the collar of his jacket. Johnny saw her shoulders shake slightly and heard the quiet tinkling sound of her laughter. Completely shell shocked. So imagine his surprise when the woman turned away from Ghost and it was you. Only you looked wildly different. He knew your face well enough, but after almost six months not going to the medbay on a weekly basis, something had changed.
Even wearing an oversized sweatshirt he could see the way it pulled taught against your swollen belly. Saw the way your arm was cradling it like second nature. He didn’t even realize that the bottle of wine had slipped from his fingers until he watched Simon’s head snap toward the sound. Ears perked. Tense like he’d suddenly flashed onto the battlefield. His eyes went wild for a moment as he scanned the busy aisle, calmed only a degree when he found you.
It’s like that Spider-Man meme where the three of them meet and point at each other. Johnny’s smiling sheepishly (for once), your jaw is dropped in surprise, and Simon is glaring daggers at Johnny like somehow it was his fault that you were all in the same place at once. You’re the first one to move. Rushing up to him as quickly as you could- now moving a bit awkwardly with the disproportionate weight of your pregnancy on your front. Asking if he was alright. Grabbing his hands to make sure the glass hadn’t cut him.
Simon tailed you like a hulking shadow. Glowering down at Soap something fucking ferocious. Didn’t even give him time to tell you he was fine. Pulling you back behind his arm by the wrists with a kind of gentleness Johnny had never known the L.T. to possess. You twisted your face in displeasure, batting his hands away and stepping back out from behind the wall that was your husband. Ignoring the wine and the soft crunch of glass under your shoes.
And to Soap’s absolute bafflement, Simon stood down. Didn’t try to yank you back, didn’t voice his protest, just drew his mouth into a hard line and let you push past him. He was speechless. For what well may have been the first time in his life, John MacTavish had no words. Couldn’t apologize for the mess. Couldn’t crack a joke. Couldn’t even say hello. He was pure dead at a loss.
Somehow, he allowed you to guide him away from the mess he’d made- staining the waxed tile a muted crimson even after the disgruntled looking employee came over to mop it up. Found his voice in your tugging him along after you and Simon to the checkout where you insisted you’d pay for the bottle of bourbon he’d managed not to send careening to the ground. Tried to tell you no, but you’d already sent it down the belt. And by the time you’d rooted through your purse in search of your card, Simon had already finished paying and was tucking his wallet into his back pocket.
Shuffled out with the two of you into the car park. Making a point of putting distance between himself and Simon who was pushing the cart with one hand and had the other planted firmly on the small of your back. Always walking on the side of oncoming traffic.
Johnny tried to keep up with your conversation. Asking him about his break. Where he was staying and for how long. How had he been. But it was tense. He could feel Ghost’s eyes on the back of his head. Burning through him. Making him feel like he had a target tacked to his skull.
He said a quick goodbye when Ghost helped you into the passenger seat of your car. You said you’d see him soon enough, said if he had any extra time before they went back he’d have to come by for dinner. Simon closed the door before you could say anything else. Looking monumentally irked.
The two men stood in suffocating silence while Simon unloaded the groceries into the trunk. Johnny tried to ignore the glinting of the silver band on the L.T’s finger. Caught the light every time he set a new bag in the back. A little unsure if he was being dismissed or if Ghost was just waiting until he was certain you wouldn’t hear the lashing he was bound to receive.
But it all stayed relatively calm. Maybe the eye of the hurricane. Simon pushed the bottle of bourbon into his chest before swinging the trunk shut.
“Appreciate if you’d keep this between us.”
Ghost spoke first, the words sounding a bit sticky in his throat- like they didn’t want to come out.
“‘Course.”
Johnny’s voice wasn’t much better. Both of them shifted on their feet. Not use to this kind of conversation. Uncomfortable being pushed from their usual dynamic.
Simon just nodded, moving to push the cart back to the corral. Johnny followed.
“How long you been keepin’ this in?”
“Which bit.”
His response was flat.
“Dinnae, L.T. Seems yer a man o’ mystery these days.”
Soap prodded, unable to help himself. A smile crept into his voice.
“Don’t push it.”
Simon bit back.
“Bonnie thing for a brute like you.”
“Johnny.”
“Looks ready’ta pop.”
A harsh sigh from Ghost. He reached into his jacket pocket like he was going for a cigarette. Tightening his jaw when his hand showed back up empty. He hummed his agreement.
“Few months.”
They’d reached Johnny’s car by this point. Just a few rows over in the car park. Stood by his driver’s side door shuffling their feet once more.
“Ken it’ll turn out like you?”
He couldn’t help but ask. Never pictured Ghost the fatherly type, but the idea was growing on him now that it’d been planted in his mind.
“Hope not.”
Simon gruffed back. Johnny snorted.
“Boy o’ girl?”
This earned him a nasty look, but he figured he was in deep enough as it was. No harm in asking.
“Girls.”
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dyke-in-crisis · 18 days
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I have noticed a pattern & I’m guilty of all of these
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moinstar · 9 months
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Diavolo’s charm(?)
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plankos · 1 year
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wake up guys plankos is cringe posting again
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emochay13 · 1 month
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Passion’s Dance
Husk x Reader
I couldn’t help myself with this one 🫣 3.2k words, holy shit.
This is a Husk x Reader 18+ imagine. Please, please don’t interact if you’re a minor. I don’t want you to get in trouble with parents.
This is very, very self indulgent and is the first smut I’ve written seriously since I was like…15? So please forgive me if it’s all over the place. Kind constructive criticism is very much welcome, just don’t be a dick about it.
Warning: Sexual Themes (obviously), and vague descriptions of feline anatomy.
The story is under the cut.
“If anythin’ hurts too much, tap out. Don’t try an’ be tough.”
Bedding Husk was no easy feat. It took long enough for him to even allow you to put a label on what you two were. He’d been through enough ‘relationships’ that the terms ‘dating’ and ‘partners’ had become so unappealing to him.
He’d been hurt enough and had hurt others enough, he didn’t want to bring in false hope for himself. Not to mention his lover.
However, you’d pushed past those walls (respectfully, of course) and wormed your way into his old, tired soul. As much as he tried to hide it, he was glad to have you. Husk knew that being with him, exclusively, wasn’t for the faint of heart. He self-destructed, drank himself to blackouts, and gambled his money when he got the chance.
He was patient, sure, but you had to be when dealing with Alastor. Husk was forced to be complacent. He’d described himself as ‘broken’ on more than one occasion.
But, you never let that push you away. You knew why he did it, why he beat himself down, why he stayed silent when obviously something was wrong. You were patient, truly patient. You didn’t push too hard, but you didn’t let Husk push you, either. He respected that.
Now, if Husk letting you label your relationship wasn’t hard enough, getting him to be truly intimate was a damn miracle.
He’s not innocent, by any means. He’s had a fling here and there. One-night stands almost every night when he was alive. Business ‘transactions’ as an Overlord. He’s been through it all. But, he’s never had a true night of passion with someone he’s truly loved. Husk never had a reason to. Especially as an Overlord, he was rough, cruel, uncaring.
He doesn’t want to test that beast showing its fangs to you.
You two had been going steady for a good number of months. Getting Husk to warm up to you took time. Gentle kisses and touches in privacy were hard enough. He’d shy away from the affection for the first couple months, tense and unsure of it. The barkeep had never been shown affection that didn’t have some kind of motive behind it.
Slowly, he’d started to grow into it. Leaning, ashamedly, into soft pecks and gentle scratching between his wings or ears. However, he usually didn’t reciprocate. And when he did, he always made sure to ask first. He would never act without your permission, even when you insisted it was alright.
It was for his ‘peace of mind,’ he’d tell you each time.
You built on that over the months, gently warming him to your affections and presence. Wing touches here and there, gentle ear rubs, hands through the hair on top of his head. He began to lean into all of it more and more, becoming more confident in his touches and affection towards you. Behind closed doors, of course. Gods forbid Angel ever found out. Husk wouldn’t hear the end of it.
After months and months of soft, careful affection and touching, he finally came to you. He was ready, now.
It was a romantic little date proposal, by your standards.
He had walked up to you, a set of plastic playing cards folded up into roses. Those definitely had the handiwork of someone like Charlie, but you weren’t going to mention that. You could almost hear her squeals at the idea of him, begrudgingly, asking for that kind of help.
He asked you on a date, and how could you possibly say no?
Well, one date later and here you both were.
Sitting on his lap, fingers curled in the fur on the back of his head as he littered your neck in soft kisses. His claws roaming gently over your clothed figure, catching the seams in the slightest of actions.
Soft jazz played from a record set on his dresser. You had bought that for him a while ago after learning he liked the style of music, but had no way to play it himself. And like hell he was going to put a radio in his room. Alastor owning his soul was more than enough.
His ears twitched at the sound of your soft breaths, his paws settling over your hips and squeezing. A low groan soon followed from you, drawing a chuckle from the bartender.
“Feelin’ good?” His tongue poked out to swipe across your neck, sending a shiver through your body at the rough texture. He knew what he was doing, damn him.
As much as you’d love to kiss that grin off his face… “Y..You’re being quite the tease, you know?” You shot back. He gave you a smirk and another squeeze.
His kisses gently trailed back up your neck, a soft path leading to the corner of your open mouth. “Mm, that wasn’t what I asked.” He mumbled against your lips before leaning in completely, closing the gap.
A rough tongue lapped across your bottom lip, coaxing a soft whine from your throat. He took the chance to dip it into your mouth, grazing your own in the process. Husk’s paws wrapped securely around your hips as he maneuvered you both to the bed. Your back was laid against the soft covers as he hovered above you, kiss unbroken.
Fighting you for dominance, one of his paws left its spot on your hip. Claws softly dipped into the opening of the shirt and guided upwards, running against your quickly warming skin. You couldn’t help but arch slightly into the touch. Husk chuckled against your lips, noticing. His wings twitched in excitement.
All too soon, he pulled back. Your head instinctively tried to follow him. Much to your disappointment, he hummed and nuzzled his cheek to yours. You giggled at the ticklish feeling, but he firmly continued.
He wanted nothing more than to be able to smell his own scent on you long after this was over. To know he had taken good care of you, with the invisible mark to prove it.
The paw in your shirt drifted up further, slipping under all your layers. He pressed it gently against your nipple, his tail and ears perking at the sound of your soft gasp.
You blushed, looking up at him. He looked back, almost asking for permission. Gods, he could be so sweet..
Nodding, you reached to help remove your top. His other paw was quick to stop you. “Let me take care of ya. You’ve been doin’ it for me long enough, baby.” Husk’s paws made quick work of your upper layers, laying your chest and stomach bare for him to see.
Him, and him alone.
Shaking his head of the thought, he leaned down. His lips pressed back against yours in another kiss, tongue pushing in with little resistance. The demon’s paws moved up, down, and across the expanse of your newly exposed skin. Soft fur rubbing against your warm skin. You arched up into the feeling.
A hand reached up and settled in the fur between his wings, pushing him closer against you. Husk’s wings puffed at the intruder between them. He shuddered against you, tongue pressing roughly to yours and drawing a soft squeak from you. Then, he pulled back.
You whined at the loss.
Shifting his hips carefully against yours, you bit your lip. You could feel his excitement pressed against the warmth between your legs. His whipping tail told you he could feel yours just the same.
But that could wait.
Instead, he shifted his attention back to your chest. Your nipples had grown stiff with the introduction of the cold air. Leaning down, he settled his mouth around one of them. Swirling his tongue around the peak. He knows the right pressure to use.
His teeth graze across the bud, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. His tongue soothes gently across the area, turning the gasp to a soft squeal. Husk hasn’t forgotten about your other one, though. A paw reaches up and gently rubs over the other nipple, pressing down in slow circles. Your hips gently buck up against him.
He laps gently at your peak, purring softly before he can even think. His claws tweak your other one. A soft mewl leaves your mouth before you can think. Quickly, he switches spots. Your other nipple is enveloped into the warmth of his mouth as the former is given the same tweaking treatment.
Soft moans and purring fill the room. The hybrid demon’s tail flicks absentmindedly in the air. His ears are facing you, enjoying every sound his movements draw from you.
“Husk…” You moan, gently tugging at the hair on the top of his head. He looks up at you through lidded eyes. A flick of his ear is the only way you can tell he’s heard you. “Husk, please…”
Pulling back with a wet pop, he looks down at you.
“I know, Doll. But ya need to be ready.” His kisses trail down your torso gently, tongue lapping against the warm skin. You shudder and watch him, your own gaze hazy from his actions.
He hums low against your belly, sending a soft vibration against it. That only added to your growing arousal. A twitch of his nose told you he noticed.
Sitting back, he stripped himself of his suit and slacks. His fur puffed up at its release and he chucked the garments off to the side. Concealed within the soft fur was a ribbed length. It was average in length, but was definitely a good sized girth that would need adjusting to.
You shuddered at the sight.
Husk made quick work of your lower layers, tossing them to join your upper layers and his suit in a pile on the floor. He’d worry about cleaning that later.
Looking down at you, he couldn’t help the trill that left his throat.
“Fuckin’ beautiful.” His wings puffed up gently as he leaned back down, pulling you into yet another kiss. Tongues dancing as his paws moved down to shift your hips up against his.
Once you were adjusted against him to his liking, he reached into his bedside table. Pulling back, he opened a small bottle.
You looked at him, brow raised.
“And you have a bottle of lube…why?”
His ears went flat as he gave you a look. “Maybe another time.”
Before you could protest, a cold feeling hit your hole. You squealed at the temperature shock. Husk only smirked. Bastard.
Opening your mouth to curse him, a soft moan quickly replaced your words. The bartender’s paw rubbed the gel in gently, the soft pad smoothing over your hole in soft but pressured circles. Gripping his arm, you bucked at the feeling.
He simply chuckled as he drew his paw back, taking the time to coat his own dick in lube. He didn’t even flinch.
You definitely had questions for later.
Shifting to line his hips up with yours, he looks at you. A serious look is on his face.
“If anythin’ hurts too much, tap out. Don’t try an’ be tough.” He threaded a hand into your hair, scratching your scalp gently.
You leaned into the touch, nodding. “If it hurts too much, I’ll tap out. I promise.” He leaned down and bumped his nose to yours.
“Good.” He lines himself up to your lubed entrance. “Can I?”
In a world full of boys, he truly can be a gentleman. Always asking for permission before doing anything with you, it was sweet.
You gave him a nod, reaching up to gently cup his fluffy cheeks. “You can.”
He leaned into the touch as he slowly pushed himself in. You were right. The girth, combined with noticeable bumps and ridges, would take a bit of adjusting to. Clawing at his back pulled a low hiss from him, making him stop.
“Fuckin’- ‘Stop’ would work just fine too, ya know.” He grumbled. Leaning down, he peppered your face in soft kisses. His claws wrapped around your hips, waiting to shift you into a better angle.
You nuzzled into the kisses. “You still listened.” He lets out a snort at that.
“Course I did. ‘M not a fuckin’ asshole.”
Testing the waters, you shifted your hips against him slightly. Husk let out a low growl and his wings puffed considerably. Hooking your legs around his hips, you nodded. “You can move..”
He nuzzled against your neck, using his paws to tilt your hips up against him. You could feel his cockhead reach deeper, a moan escaping you. He smirked against your skin. Slowly, his hips pulled back. The hybrid drew back until only the tip was left inside, before slowly pushing himself back in.
There was still a twinge of discomfort with it, but the lube was working well. He gave a few more thrusts like that. Deep, slow, loving. Husk was going great lengths to make sure you got used to his texture before anything else.
His tail thumped loudly against the bed, low trills and huffs leaving his throat and vibrating against your body. His claws digging into your skin told you it was taking everything in his power just to hold himself back. You reached up and scratched between his ears. The cat instantly leaned into it.
You felt yourself being shifted to rest back on the pillows. The feeling of soft fur left your hips and his paws rested on either side of your head. The rhythm of his hips against yours, sped up slightly. You moaned at the feeling, finally accustomed to the rough cock.
“You’re…so fuckin’ tight..” The growl reverberated through your ear. Kisses and nipping littered your neck, fueling your sounds. His wings spread slightly as he ground against you.
Even though he wanted nothing more than to fuck you numb into the bed, he treated you like fragile glass. Like one wrong move could absolutely break you. His thrusts slowly began to hit deeper and deeper.
When he grazed against your sweet spot, you swore you saw stars. A pitched moan was all he needed to hit that spot over and over again, his ears twitching. You clawed at his back again, but he only sped up this time. And fuck, if it didn’t feel good.
The louder your moans grew, the faster he seemed to go. Pushing you down, albeit gently, into the bed. His fur pressed against your sweat covered skin. He was desperate to chase your release, growling incoherently against your neck. Panting against the skin.
“Husk..” You mewled, gripping onto the fur of his neck slightly. He let out a loud trill and looked at you. His pupils were enlarged, threatening to cover the orange of his irises. The hazed look in his eyes was enough to make you clench. His hips stuttered against you as he felt it. “Fuck- Husk..!”
He began to litter your neck in soft bites, his thrusts steadily growing sloppy. It was obvious Husk was close. You weren’t too far behind, he could tell. And while he’d love nothing more to fill you up right then, he was still clear minded enough to know he needed to make you cum first.
So he shakily lifted himself on his front paws and pressed his hips to yours, folding them slightly. With this new angle, he slammed straight into your recently discovered sweet spot. You choked slightly at the feeling and tugged at the base of his wings. Husk‘s tail whipped loudly against the bed.
“Baby…ya can’t-“ He growled, arms buckling. “‘M close enough..fuck..! I won’t last long…if ya tug there..!”
You shakily reached up, curling your fingers in the fur on the back of his head. Bringing him into a sloppy kiss, you locked your legs around his hips. He chuckled hoarsely against your lips.
Grinding into you, he kissed down your neck. Lapping gently at the sweat covered skin with his rough tongue. Shivers wracked your body as the knot built in your gut. Pooling warm and heavy. You moaned out as Husk settled on one of your nipples, prodding it into his mouth.
He circled the bud gently, drawing loud mewls and groans from your throat. The feeling of it added to the warming coil, and you arched up against him. You were close. So close.
Pulling back from the nipple, he looked up at you. His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was holding himself back. You needed one more push.
Moving up, he nuzzled against a spot on your neck. Licking it and nipping it, he slowed his thrusts in favor of going deeper and harder. “Come on, baby..cum for me.”
As he gave a particularly hard slam, his teeth dug into your skin and marked the skin with deep grooves.
That was more than enough for you and you came hard. A loud moan of his name filled the room. Husk shook himself and gave a few more hard thrusts, ears flat. He slammed himself deep and came, thick ropes filling you up. You watched, dazed, as his wings flared out across the room.
The hybrid gave a couple more thrusts, fucking his cum into you. Then, he let himself collapse on top of you. Husk panted gently against your skin, ears flicking.
You both laid there, panting, enjoying the afterglow as your hearts calmed down. Reaching down to where Husk’s head rested against your chest, you combed your fingers through his mussed hair. He leaned into the touch with a purr, opening his eyes to look at you. You watched as he blinked away the hazy look.
You giggled. “That was amazing…I’m shocked.” He instantly bristled.
“The fuck’s that supposed t’ mean?” The cat nipped, playfully, at your chest. You know he didn’t mean anything behind it.
“I’m just kidding.” A hum built in your throat, “Thank you, though. For trusting me enough to do this.”
His ears folded back and he grumbled, distracting himself by cleaning up your bleeding mark. “Yeah yeah, whatever…thanks for..being patient.” He mumbled softly against your skin.
You cupped his face and brought it close to yours. Then, you rubbed your cheek against his. Instantly, he leaned into it, tail curling. “Don’t have to thank me for anything.”
He chuckled and lapped at your skin gently, cleaning you in his own way. When he’d grown soft, he pulled himself out and grabbed a rag. Wetting it in his bathroom, he came back and carefully cleaned you. You nuzzled against him as he finished up. His wings puffed.
“You know what you’re doing, ya little shit.” He nipped your cheek.
“No idea what you’re talking about.” You smirked, taking the rag from him and tossing it to the floor. It could make friends with your clothes down there. Then, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into the bed.
He curled his tail around your waist, and covered you with his wings. Softly nuzzling into your neck, his purring started up lowly. The feeling of it against you was enough to make you yawn. He closed his eyes at the sound.
“I love you, Husk.” You mumbled out as you drifted to sleep. He simply curled his wings and tail tighter around you. You didn’t expect him to answer.
“..I love you, too..”
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steddiehyperfixation · 3 months
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don't you forget about me (part seven)
(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)
Eddie takes back everything he’d thought before; sex dreams are so much worse actually, especially when you wake up to the subject of them holding your hand. His face turns bright red the second his eyes open and land on Steve. He sits upright immediately, bunching up the blankets over his lap. 
The pounding of his heart - aka the rapid beeping of the heart monitor - alerts Steve who snaps awake instantly and tightens his grip on Eddie’s hand as he asks with urgent concern, “Are you alright? Did you have another nightmare?”
“No, no, definitely not a nightmare.” Eddie’s cheeks burn, feels the flush reach his ears and down his neck too. He clears his throat. “Just, uh- just a weird dream, that’s all. Not bad, just…weird, yeah. I’m fine.”
Steve relaxes. “Okay.” He hesitates, then adds hopefully, “Was it, uh- Do you think it was a memory?” 
Eddie shakes his head. “Definitely not.” 
“What makes you so sure?” Steve asks. 
“It was fantasy.” Eddie’s eyes rake over Steve, and he tries not to wonder just how accurate his dream was. 
Steve raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Fantasy?” 
“Yeah, fantasy. So unless you have some truly awesome news to give me about the existence of dragons,” Eddie lies (better to have Steve think he’d dreamt of riding on a dragon rather than that he’d dreamt of Steve riding him), “I’m pretty sure it was just a regular old dream.”
“Oh.” Steve's face falls; and Eddie almost wants to take it all back and tell a different lie, that it had been a memory, but he doesn't. “Yeah, no, I've yet to run into any dragons yet, I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Eddie says, running his thumb over Steve's hand. “I wish it was a memory. I mean- I wish I had more memories, and I'm sorry that I don't. I'm sorry that makes you so sad.” 
The apology only makes Steve look sadder. “Oh, Eddie, no, it's okay.” He shakes his head, squeezes Eddie's hand. “Don't apologize for that. It's not like you chose to forget.”
“I know. I’m still sorry though,” Eddie responds quietly. His dream-sparked lust has since curbed into something softer, inevitably. He looks into those downturned and devastating brown puppy dog eyes. “I didn't choose to forget, but I’m still the reason you're sad - I know that, so I'm sorry.” 
It's Steve this time who mutters “You don't have to worry about me so much, Eds, I'm alright,” and it's Steve this time who clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his and brushes a kiss over his knuckles. 
It sends a rush through Eddie's whole body to feel Steve's lips against his skin - in real life, that is. Heat rises in his cheeks again, heart rate kicking up for the millionth time. “Uh- yeah, uh, o-okay,” he stutters, can’t seem to form a coherent thought or sentence right now. He pulls his hand away and runs his fingers through his hair instead, changing the subject, “Um. Are you, uh- are you sticking around today?” 
“Yeah.” Though there’s still a trace of sadness behind his eyes, there’s something like flirtation there too as Steve smirks and says, “I’m all yours today.” 
God. Eddie really is done for, isn’t he.
It’s no wonder, then, that after spending another full day with Steve, another full day of being subjected to Steve’s bittersweet smiles and friendly banter and (that is, if Eddie’s not just being delusional, which is a very real and probable possibility) the occasional flirty comment, Eddie’s dreams soon turn sappy again:
They were sitting in some restaurant, in a corner booth, holding hands behind a propped up menu. Steve was looking gorgeous in a tastefully tight polo and perfectly styled hair streaked with gold, and he looked at Eddie with that warm little smile that always made his heart glow. It overflowed; Eddie almost couldn't take it. 
He said, “I know you said you wanted to do things right, so after how many dates can I ask you to be my boyfriend?” 
Steve's smile grew, eyes wide with a sort of wonder and disbelief and anticipation that was vaguely reminiscent of a child on christmas morning. “I, uh- I think the third date is just fine.” 
“Okay, good.” Eddie grinned. He caught Steve's other hand and held it right there out in the open without a care who saw or heard. “Because I like you so so much; you’re the best person I know, Stevie, and I wanna lock this down before someone else comes along and snatches you up. I want to be your boyfriend more than anything, and I want you to be mine, if you want that too. So, what do you say?” 
Steve must not’ve cared who saw or heard either because he immediately lunged across the table to kiss him, holding Eddie's hands tight as he pressed their lips together fervently. 
Eddie certainly wasn't about to complain. He indulged the kiss for a good long few moments before he pulled back to double check, “So that was a yes, right?” 
“Yeah, dumbass,” Steve laughed, fond and bright and beautiful. “That was absolutely a yes.” 
That ache is back when Eddie wakes up, the wanting, the wishing. 
He thinks this dream falls somewhere in between the events of the last two, like his brain is turning this fantasy into a whole connected narrative now, building and fleshing out this wishful story of him and Steve. Unless… No. Eddie can't let himself think like that. If these dreams have been memories, if that had really been the type of relationship they'd had, surely Steve would've said something. It's not unusual for Eddie's daydreams to become so involved and become entire worlds. This is, as he tells himself for the third time now, just another case of his overactive imagination. 
Steve doesn't ask about his dreams again, and he soon leaves for work and isn't around much that day, but that still doesn't stop Eddie's mind from continuing the fiction when he falls asleep holding Steve's hand, as always now, that night: 
Eddie sat on Steve's couch, his arm slung casually around Steve's shoulders as Steve leaned against him and idly played with the rings on Eddie's other hand while a movie played on the TV in front of them. It was Steve's turn to pick the movie, and there was a time when Eddie would've rolled his eyes and scoffed at the suggestion of watching The Breakfast Club, but it had just come out on VHS and Steve was so excited about it and Eddie was more than happy now to sit just there and watch Steve watch it. Because Steve was smiling and humming along to the songs on the soundtrack, and Eddie felt, suddenly, with such simple certainty that this is where he was meant to be, that this is who he was going to spend the rest of his life with. 
Something must've changed in his expression, in his stare, because Steve soon rolled his head to the side to look at Eddie and asked with an amused (and vaguely confused) smile, “What?” 
“Nothing, I just-” Eddie shook his head, pressed a kiss to Steve's temple and then said like it was the easiest thing in the world, “I think I've fallen in love with you.” 
Steve laughed as if this great big relief just bubbled free from his chest. “Oh thank god,” he said. “I’m in love with you too.” 
Eddie believed him, knew it with the same certainty as before. They shared gentle smiles and a sweet, chaste kiss. Steve slipped an arm around Eddie's waist and curled closer against his side. He went right back to watching the movie and Eddie went right back to watching Steve. And that was all there was to it. 
Clear, effortless, uncomplicated. Because how could they be anything else but in love with each other? 
Eddie sighs when he blinks awake. His eyes slowly shift to the side and he looks at Steve strangely for a few silent moments. 
Steve asks, “What?” 
Eddie's cheeks tinge pink, and Steve wonders, not for the first time, what Eddie had been dreaming about. He gets a devastating sense of deja vu when Eddie shakes his head and says, “Nothing.” But it stops there where Steve's memory doesn't. 
Although, Eddie is still considering him in that weird, just short of familiar way, and Steve wonders - again, not for the first time - if maybe Eddie just might remember too. But surely he'd say something if he did. 
Eddie taps his fingers against Steve's hand and asks after a long minute. “Are you gonna be around tomorrow?”
“I can be.” Steve is scheduled to work tomorrow, but he'd call out sick in an instant if Eddie asked him to.
“Okay, because, uh, that's when the doctor’s gonna have me try to walk and when they're gonna teach me and Wayne how to take care of my wounds at home for when I’m discharged, and I, um, I want you to be there for that too,” Eddie says. 
Steve finds himself a little surprised by this. “You really want me there?” 
“Yeah, I mean, If you don't mind,” Eddie starts, rambling like he's suddenly scared Steve might refuse, “I know it's not the most fun thing to be here for, but I just figured whatever the doctor tells us tomorrow you should know too, just in case, you know, like I might need you one day and Wayne can't be around all the time and-” 
“I’ll be there, Eddie,” Steve assures him, squeezing his hand. “Of course I’ll be there.”
And so he is. He calls out of work the next day, much to Keith’s annoyance, and stands there as the room fills with doctors and nurses and Eddie's uncle Wayne. 
Eddie's mobility is tested first. He makes a soft grunt of pain as he's instructed to swing his legs over the side of the bed, and then another when the doctor taps his knee and his injured leg kicks with the assessment of his reflexes. Satisfied with that response, the doctor moves on to pressing various pressure points on Eddie’s leg to measure how much he can feel (and Steve tries very hard not to feel so weirdly irrationally jealous at watching the doctor feel up Eddie's leg). After a few more soft painful hisses that let the doctor know Eddie's nerve endings are intact - or whatever it was she was testing - he's told to try and stand. He's understandably apprehensive, hesitant. The doctor and his uncle help coax him off the bed; the competent and the familiar. Steve hangs back still, sure he's not needed for this. 
But the second Eddie attempts to put pressure on his injured limb and he stumbles, his hand shoots out and it's Steve’s name he calls, as if on instinct. And, on instinct, Steve is there in a second to grab his hand and assist in steadying him. “I've got you,” he murmurs, guiding Eddie to the walker that's been set out for him. Eddie limps a few more feet with the help of the walker and the encouragement of Steve’s (hopefully) comforting hand on his shoulder until the doctor calls it and tells Eddie he can rest again. 
Once Eddie makes it back onto the bed, collapsing back into the pillows with a haggard sigh, the doctor and nurses immediately crowd him again, try to go straight into the next step of redressing his wounds. 
“Give him a second,” Steve snaps, protectively holding onto Eddie's hand and leaning over him. “Can't you see he's exhausted?” 
The doctor shoots the only other proper adult in the room a weary look. 
“They know what they're doing, kid.” Wayne's heavy hand lands on Steve's shoulder, both a reassurance and an alert for him to back off. 
“I’m okay, Stevie,” Eddie adds. He gives Steve a tired smile and squeezes his hand before prying it out of Steve's hold. “It's alright.” 
Steve reluctantly relents and steps back to give the medical professionals space to continue. 
Eddie's shirt is pushed up so the bandages on his chest and stomach are accessible as the nurses begin to explain and demonstrate the process of taking care of the injuries. Steve watches, listens intently, wants to absorb every ounce of information so he can best tend to Eddie if need be. Then his eyes flick up and he accidentally makes dead eye contact with Eddie who seems to realize then just how vulnerable and exposed he is right now because his cheeks burn red and his heart rate suddenly increases. 
The nurses don't seem to be too worried about this - if anything, they exchange knowing glances with everyone else in the room except Eddie and Steve before they continue their demonstration. Steve isn't worried either anymore - if anything, he finally resigns himself fully to the fact, the irrefutable proof, that Robin was right and Eddie really does have a schoolboy crush on him again. 
Steve does his best to keep paying attention, but in the background his mind is spinning and his heart aching. 
On the one hand it’s kind of sweet to know Eddie's feelings are not gone completely, that some level of attraction still swirls to the surface even through the empty space in his memory. And Steve has been indulging that crush the past couple days, little comments of flirtation just to feel like he still has Eddie in some way, just to see the reaction and have some evidence that Eddie still feels something at all for him. (Stupid, selfish.)
But on the other hand it is just a crush. Eddie used to love him, but now that's halved; and that's a very specific kind of agony. 
Steve’s not sure how much longer he can handle this. 
~
Something passed between them when they made eye contact; something sweet and sad flitted across Steve's expression, as it often does, but he looked away when Eddie blushed and has been avoiding his eyes again since. 
When the nurses are done showing them how to wrap him up, Steve retreats, saying kindly, though still not quite looking at him, “I'm gonna go get you some water, alright?” 
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Eddie smiles gratefully after him. 
“Your boyfriend seems sweet,” Nurse Katie comments, carefully, as she secures the last of the fresh bandages. 
“Excuse me?” Eddie coughs, chokes on his own spit, spluttering, “I’m- he's not- we’re- it’s- um. He’s not my boyfriend.” 
“Oh, sorry,” the nurse is quick to apologize. “I didn't mean to assume, I just thought since he's always in here holding your hand, even before you woke up-” 
“We're friends,” Eddie says shortly. He feels a little dizzy at what she's suggesting and would really rather her stop talking. 
“Alright, my mistake.” Katie backs off the subject. 
Steve returns then anyways, further killing that topic of conversation. He hands a cup of water to Eddie, who takes it with another muttered “thanks” and starts gulping it down while the doctor goes off on some spiel about the process of having him discharged and more tests they’ll have to do tomorrow. Eddie’s not paying attention. He’s too tired. 
Not long after that, the doctor and nurses file out of the room, and Wayne stands to leave too. “I’m glad the two of you are getting close again,” he mentions to Steve and Eddie on his way out. “You were good for each other.” 
Whatever that means. 
Eddie doesn’t have the brainpower left to contemplate that. Being poked and prodded and trying to walk took a lot out of him. He’s exhausted, achy all over. It’s barely even late enough to be dinner time yet, but he could honestly just pass out right now. He sets his finished water cup on the bedside table and his now free hand reaches, once again, for Steve. 
“Tired?” Steve asks as he catches Eddie’s hand. 
“Mhmm.” Eddie settles against his pillows, closing his eyes. He adds in a sleepy mumble, “’M glad you were here today.”
“Me too.”
He feels Steve’s lips slide gently across the back of his hand, and then Eddie slides gently into sleep. 
Immediately, though, his dreams are not gentle; for the first time since he’s been falling asleep with Steve’s hand in his, Eddie dreams of the bats: 
Eddie was in that hell dimension, the scene all black and red and dotted with bats. But he wasn’t alone. Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley were there too, the three of them fending off the creatures with boat oars, and Steve- Steve was on the ground; two bats gnawed on his sides, another had its tail wrapped around his neck. Eddie’s heart was in his throat, roaring in his ears and pumping pure fear and adrenaline through his veins. He couldn’t save him; all he could do was try his best to keep more bats from joining in on the feast. 
Steve, however, seemed perfectly capable of saving himself. He managed to sink his teeth into the bat tail around his neck, getting it to let go. Eddie couldn’t see everything, too busy whacking away more incoming bats, but when the last of this fleet of creatures was fought off, Eddie turned back around to find Steve on his feet now, holding a bat by the tail and slamming it against the ground far more times than necessary. He watched as Steve stomped down on the bat’s neck and tore its head from its body. Blood from the bat’s tail hung from Steve’s lips in a thick, dark drip before he spat it into the dirt.
Eddie stared, jaw dropped, pounding heart pumping an entirely different sensation through his veins now. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” 
Steve gave him a bloodstained grin and Eddie’s knees felt weak. He would’ve dropped to the ground in front of him right then and there if- 
“Keep it in your pants, Munson.” Robin shoulder-checked him as she walked past. “At least until we get the hell out of hell.” 
Eddie settled instead for sidling up to Steve and, after taking a second to make sure he was alright, whispering low and close to Steve’s ear, “If we were anywhere else and you weren’t injured right now…” The muttered end of that sentence was something so filthy it made Steve’s face burn red, and he laughed. 
“Freak,” Steve said affectionately as he smacked a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 
Eddie was quick to turn his head and catch Steve’s lips, locking them together in something searing and intense. 
“Boys!” Nancy snapped impatiently from a few feet ahead, which startled them apart. “Seriously? Time and place, come on.” 
Both Eddie and Steve laughed as they followed after the girls. 
Eddie wakes up a little bit disoriented from that dream. He doesn’t know what to call it: Was it a nightmare or not? Was it a memory or another fantasy? The lines are blurred and Eddie finds himself confused. 
Steve must’ve seen this on his face because he asks, “Everything alright?” 
“Yeah…” Eddie answers slowly. “I had a dream about the Upside Down…but it wasn’t quite a nightmare, I don’t think. I’m just- I’m not sure if it was a memory or not.” He hesitates, then decides screw it, he might as well try to get some sort of clarification on the reality of some details of his dream. “Did you…rip a bat in half with your bare hands?”
“I did, yeah,” Steve confirms. His expression shifts, sparking with something like hope. 
“And, uh, did I tell you that was the hottest thing I’d ever seen?”
“You did, yeah.” 
“Okay, cool,” Eddie says, reeling. “Just checking.”  
Steve is watching him almost expectantly, but when Eddie doesn’t say anything more on the subject, his face falls into something more like disappointment.
(final part is here!) taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies; please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. if you didn't make the taglist but still wanna follow along, you can follow the tag #dyfamsteddiefic to keep up with new updates!)
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arczism · 4 months
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me: phantom liberty can't hurt me phantom liberty:
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nuka-rockit · 4 months
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headcanons my beloved
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marmastry · 8 months
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Rain
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cosmicwhoreo · 21 days
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Idk I wanted to play around with the "robot spider" thingy he's got goin on-
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p-ogman · 6 months
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"Lisa, it's so dark. I can't see the light anymore."
[umm au where john becomes the new vessel after "the offering" ending in chapter 1 and lisa comes to save her bestie...]
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isjasz · 8 months
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Who did you leave behind?
(if boatem after joining scar's crew tattoo/paint or just cut an identical scar as Scar on their arms bc pirate crew amirite)(yes this is a one piece reference)(yes I will continue doing them)(yes I don't care)
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