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trancylovecraft · 3 months

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Hello Girlie! I saw that your requests are open (even with the hiatus, take care of yourself:3) so, I wanted to know if it's okay if I make my own? From Yandere Lucifer Morningstar's general headcanons(from Hazbin Hotel), perhaps the reader could take Eve's place, being the "first sinner" or/and converted demon like Lilith.

If you're already maxed out with Requests, that's fine! I will order in another time, take all the time you need❤️You can ignore this if that's the case

(HAZBIN) YANDERE! LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR x EVE! READER: Headcannons

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: HEYYYY GIRLIE!!! THANKS SO MUCH!! i love that u requested him cause he's one of my favourites (i had a lot of fun with this req, LOVE THE CONCEPT) and would be if it wasn't for Carmilla :]. FANDOM: Hazbin Hotel

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

Lucifer Morningstar! King of Hell, King of Pride and one goofy motherfucker!

Also a dangerous yandere to have.

I headcannon Lucifer as a Desperate, Possessive, Protective and Worshiping yandere.

Desperate in the way that Lucifer is just so lonely. Even when he did have something with Lilith in the beginning (They never got married in this scenario), It never felt connected. Even as the ugly duckling amongst the angels, He loves you because maybe.. Just maybe, You think like him, Maybe you love him. And he NEEDS you to love him too.

Possessive in the way that this ties into his Desperation, So enamoured and focused on getting you to love him that he's bitter towards anyone who you even glance at. You're his, Lucifer gets antsy if you even look another persons way (God forbid, Adams.). You should look at him, Listen to him and his ideas.

Protective in the way that he's terrified of losing you. You're still only mortal, And if you die then you'll fall into hell (If not, Heaven) and even Lucifer knows that's no place for you to be! You're too good for a place like that, He needs to make sure you'll be fine with him down there.. Especially with all the sinners running about.

And finally, Worshiping in the way that he just adores you. I mean, Come on. You're gorgeous, Intelligent, Curious, Brave and everything else he could ever want! How could he not worship you so?

So to establish you as an Eve! Reader, We're gonna go off my interpretation of Eve since we haven't seen her in the show yet.

You are you, Created from Adams left rib while the actual Eve was created from Adam's right.

God made both you and Eve to give Adam a choice of wife, Whichever one he chose would stand at his side for all of eternity. However the one that he didn't choose..

Well, You weren't quite sure what would happen to them, But you knew that you didn't want it to be you.

Eve was made beautiful, She was made pure and orderly. In other words, Eve was subserviant. Though you loved her like a sister, She was very much unlike you..

You on the other hand was made intelligent, Curious of the natural world and adventurous to the last letter. You craved knowledge, You craved to experiment.

In other words you were messy, Subserviant not to man but to your carnal desire to learn. But both you and your sister knew very well of what happened to Adam's first wife, So you knew that you had to go along with it all.

Lucifer came across you one day when he gazed upon the garden of Eden. He was startstruck when he saw you bathe within one of Eden's many springs, Washing your body on your lonesome while humming some original symphonic tune.

Lucifer was lured to you by your song, Him being an avid musician was not immune to your call. But he was even more entranced once he saw you in person, Your body only a silhouette in the fireflies that danced around you.

Of course by now he had been banished, So he watched you in the form of a snake in a tree.

Lucifer thought you were stunning at first sight, Watching as you bathed yourself in springwater and sing your siren's song. And he felt awkward, Nervous to approach you especially after his banishment.

So that's all he did, He just watched.

But that changed once you turned you caught eye of him too, Pausing your bath once you saw the pretty white snake hanging from the tree just a bit away from your spring.

Sure, Eden has a lot of animals, Snakes included but you've never seen one with such gorgeous white scales like this one. So you're curious, Beginning to churn your way through the waist-deep waters towards him.

Lucifer instantly starts panicking, You're actually approaching him?! As much as he does want to talk to you, He certainly hasn't gained the courage yet!

You make your way over and finally reach him with a small smile on your face, Reaching your arms out you bring the snake into your hands with suprising ease. You look at it closely, Smiling.

"Hello there.. How'd you get all the way out here?"

Lucifer near melts in your hands once he hears your spoken voice, Just as angelic as your singing. He can barely do anything in your hold, A warm, Passionate feeling starting to burst inside of him

"..I- Erm-"

You squeak, Dropping the snake onto the ground like you had touched hot coals. You weave back in the water, Staring dead at the coiling snake. It had spoken, Human language.

You ask who he was, Shocked once Lucifer speaks up and stammers while telling you that he was an Angel. He apologises profusely, Saying sorry for intruding on your bath.

You calm down once you find out he's an Angel, One of the good guys, Right? You hadn't met many angels, And its not like you had any experience of deception anyways.

Besides, His mannerisms were rather charming despite how awkward they sounded. You giggled as you apologised for dropping him, Reaching down to pick him up once more.

Lucifer and you talked for the entire night, Too enraptured in conversation for either of you to sleep.

He talked about the stars, The seas and the sands. How he himself had saw their creation and marveled at their beauty. You listened intently, Soaking it all in while your eyes gleamed at him like the stars under the night sky. Lucifer took pride, His stammers getting less frequent as he went on.

He also spoke of his ideas, His plans for the future and his vision for humanity. And you actually listened, You agreed, You suggested and spoke of your own ideas and he agreed in full. Wide eyed, Almost as if you read his mind.

And in that moment, You were just.. Perfect.

He had to leave once your sister came looking for you, Not wanting to be seen by her. Unfortunately he hadn't told you his name, But he supposed it was better like that so it wouldn't be known that he, Lucifer had been meddling in human affairs once more.

But he came back, He had to, You gave him such a good feeling. It was like you knew him, Like you agreed with him and accepted him as he was.

He couldn't give that up, No, He needed to come back.

And he did, For the next few weeks he returned to you at night when you were alone. In the form of a snake, One easily able to hide his presence. He spoke to you, Always excitedly hurrying once he had a new idea or invention he wanted to show you.

And you listened, You always did. He listened too, Once you told him of your situation with Adam. You lamented how much you just wanted to explore, To not be tied down by the weight of a husband.

Lucifer sympathised with you once you told him you had no choice, That Adam needed to marry you or you'd be tossed away like leftovers.

Lucifer started to bring you artefacts, Things you asked for and ones you wanted to study. Lucifer always stammered once you kissed the top of his head, If he was in his humanoid form he would be red from head to toe, Something he was glad you could not see.

He took you around the garden, Showing you the highs and the lows of this place. He showed you the rivers and the fields, The mountains and the valleys. Everywhere you could possibly go, Including the border of the gardens.

You thought he was funny, His jokes always brought a hearty laugh out of you. Lucifer always made an effort to tell more in your presence.

Lucifer wishes he was in his humanoid form so he could play his violin for you. Your voice is so beautiful and you sing to him every night, He wishes he could do the same for you.

You affectionately refer to him as simply just "My Angel" since you have a personal belief that he was sent to guide you. Lucifer doesn't correct you despite your beliefs, It gets him more praise that he desperately craves anyways.

Whenever you were away however, He still kept a close eye on you. Especially when you were around that sleaze of a man, Adam. Lucifer didn't like Adam, Especially after he had met you.

He watched as Adam was free to put an arm around your shoulders, Eve having the other. The way Adam boasted about himself, How he kept loudly asking which one of you should be his wife.

You didn't like Adam, But you needed to be wed so you weren't thrown away. So you kept tossing your hair like Eve always did, Laughed at his stupid jokes and leaned just a bit closer into him.

And it made Lucifer furious.

It boiled up in him like a stewing pot. Couldn't he see that he was making you uncomfortable? Couldn't he see that he wasn't good enough for you? Lucifer doesn't blame you, But hell, Does he wish you looked his way.

He wanted to save you from this, Get you away from Adam so that he can have you all to himself you can be happy! That glint in your eyes is gone, He needs you to get it back.

But Lucifer can't do anything. With the close eyes of the angels above watching them, There's no way he could do anything too drastic. As much as he wants to help, As much as he wants to snap Adams neck with his own bare hands. There's not much he can do..

But Lucifer is sure that once Adam chooses Eve, He'll be there to pick you up and sweep you down into hell where he can finally show his true form to you entirely.

He's sure of it.

But one day he had gotten distracted, You were with Adam so he hadn't been present at the time. But when he went to look back, Watch over you like he usually does.. He stops.

Eve is sobbing on her knees, Full on wails as Adam tenderly holds your hands. Lucifer realises what had happened by the look of uncertainty on your face, The way you looked at Eve with sympathy and fear.

Adam had chosen you.

Lucifer is shocked, He's pulling out clumps pf hair and slinging curses. Its unlike him, He sounded like a wild animal. He was so sure that Adam, As shallow as he was, Would choose the blonde beauty of Eve.

But he had chosen you, Not being as shallow as he had thought. Adam tells all the angels that he has officially chosen you, That you would be his wife. His chosen to be wed.

Lucifer can barely hold back anymore as he starts breaking down in an anguished rage. How could this happen? Aren't you gonna object to this? What about him, Did your time with him mean nothing?

But you just nodded slowly, Agreeing to be his wife.

It takes Lilith to calm him down, Rushing to his side as he starts hyperventilating, Trying not to break anything more. She speaks to him, Tells him of another way he can get you back.

And its a good idea.

You're wandering in the garden once more, Searching for your sister after she ran off sobbing. She'd be tossed out of the garden, You don't want that, You love her so you need to find her to see if there's a solution for everybody.

But you find your way to a deeper part of the garden, Where you were forbidden to go. You didn't even realise until you reached a clearing, Finally spotting the massive tree in the middle, Higher than all the rest with beautifully ripe fruit hanging from them.

You realise your mistake, You go to turn around but before you do you hear the voice of your friend, The angel.

You spot Lucifer coming down from the branches, Beckoning you over with that same excited voice, The one that you trusted with your life. And despite all of your instincts yelling no, You go towards him.

He greets you as cheery as ever, Slithering down from the branches yet he still kept a good distance. You tell him that you didn't mean to wander this far into forbidden land, Thinking that he was The Angel sent to bring you back.

Lucifer just shrugs it off though, Telling you that it's no big deal. You raise a brow before he beckons you forward, Congratulating you on your marriage to Adam that went by quicker than it should have.

You thank him nervously but tell him you have to go, But before you can leave he calls you back, Informing you that he came here to give you an engagement present. Something of his own making, Something he had worked really hard on..

You still trust him but the twisting feeling in your stomach gets worse once he presents to you a ruby red apple from behind the tree. Your eyes light up at it however, It was the most gorgeous apple you had ever seen. No blemishes or freckle out of place.

It was mesmerizing like a hypnotists watch, Your eyes kept on the carmine shine. You didn't even notice the gleeful giggling coming from Lucifer, Like a little girl on her birthday about to open her first present.

You took the apple into your hands once offered and despite all your better judgement, You placed it upon your lips before taking a bite into its skin. You chew, It's sweet, So sweet. It was the most sugary taste your tongue had held, Yet the pungency of the sour aftertaste came like a storm surge.

You snap out of it, Watching as the ruby red apple in your hand starts to rot away in record time. Mould and maggots already starting to fester, You scream and drop it to the ground, But by the time it hits it had already withered to the core.

You feel weird, You feel horrid. Suddenly you become aware of your naked form, Instantly rushing to cover your parts you start to yell at Lucifer, Begging him to tell you what you had done, What that apple really was. What spell had he put you under to take a bite of that thing? How stupid you were-!

But you snap your head up and the snake was no more, Instead a man with ivory skin and rosy cheeks. Platinum blonde hair slicked back with the most giddy grin you had ever seen on anyone before. Your eyes widen, And suddenly the knowledge of who you've been talking to hits you like a freight train.

He tries to talk to you but he can't get a word in. You scream, You cry, You wail. Accusing him with his own name, Lucifer. You start to hyperventilate, Backing away with him with a horrid stomach ache while storms brew in the sky above.

Lucifer tells you that its okay! He's found a way for you to get out of your marriage, He just tells you to listen to him and that it will be okay!

But you don't, A sudden chill runs through Eden and you know in your core that its not just you who has felt the consequences of your actions. Storms brew, Critters around you start to get violent. You yell and scream once he comes close, Trying to bring you into embrace.

Lucifer is taken aback, This isn't how he imagined it. You were suppose to listen to him, Like you always did. But instead you just kept wailing and wailing calling him a monster, The devil that he was.

You're suppose to listen to him, Him. To his ideas, To his words, To anything that he says. So why aren't you lending him an ear now?! He just doesn't get it.

Wings sprout from his back, An arm lunges around your waist and constricts around you like the snake that he was. You can't struggle in his hold, His power too strong as he raises you both into the air with the flap of his wings.

The storms are high, Dark clouds above and winds so whipping it could cause lacerations. Lucifer tells you that you're coming down with him now, That you will be siphoned away to hell with him forever.

Lucifer thinks your just overreacting, And hey! He's been there too and its not like he's actually angry at you, No, Just at the people around you. He knows you'll understand why he's doing this, That's why he tells you what he had done to your sister.

You go deathly silent once he tells you he's got Eve as collateral, When he explains with that same awkward yet now manic demeanour that you were so use to before. He says that he won't hesitate to take her out if that's what it'll take for you to listen, All while smiling like this is an everyday affair.

You and your sister had always had a rocky relationship, Especially since you were put in competition with each other from day one. But you loved her and she loved you, You cared for each other when you could despite your frequent quarrels.

So you had no choice but to agree, A smile lights up on Lucifer's face as he places a chaste yet stomach churning kiss upon your lips. It's nasty, Disgusting. You're still sobbing profusely as your altitude drops, Your climate becoming much hotter and humid.

You feel your body contorting, Mutilating itself. Breaking down and building back up into a wretched caricature of your former self. Horns, Talons, Features of creatures you hadn't even seen before coming upon you.

You scream through the pain, But Lucifer keeps a hand firmly placed on the back of your head. Cold comfort in your new inferno as he tells you how excited he is to finally have you with him full time.

You barely listen, Your body was not yours anymore, It didn't look as such. So how could you listen to his giddy ramblings? The ones you so loved to listen to before..

You shut the eyes your new body had melded, Falling into the darkness of your mind.

Desperately hoping that this was all a dream while the devil caressed your cheek.

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darkcircles4lyfe · 1 month

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it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

#lin speaks #bnha meta #bnha manga #bnha 419 #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bkdk #dekubaku #dkbk

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finelinevogue · 10 months

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when in rome

summary - just a few random clips from a holiday to rome

word count - +3k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

a/n - can’t lie… this could literally be set anywhere and there’s no real plot, but i hope yous enjoy it all the same <33

at the airport

“Hey, give me that.”

Harry holds out his hand for you to pass over the suitcase to him, claiming that he should be the one to pull it not you.

You were originally going to have two suitcases, but it turns out that neither of you were packing heavy and so one suitcase it was.

“I’m not incapable.” You sigh.

“I’m not saying that. I would just feel better if y’let me pull it.” Harry plucks your fingers off the handle one by one, distracting you with a kiss as he does so to make it easier for himself, before claiming the suitcase for himself.

“I’m not gonna argue with you at this time in the morning.” You give him another sigh.

You walk behind Harry as he directs you from the Uber to the terminal door.

It is holiday time and you and Harry have decided on a getaway to Italy, Rome. One of the most romantic cities in Europe and famous for its history and pizza.

Harry decided that you would fly Economy, rather than taking the jet, because it was more practical for a bunch of different reasons that you didn’t really understand.

Hence why you are grumpy now.

You had to get up at 2AM, to get and Uber and be through security before your flight leaves at 7:30AM.

Clad in one of Harry’s oversized hoodies and gym shorts, your legs are cold, your eyes are heavy from tiredness and your body aches from the run Harry made you go on yesterday.

You rub your eye free of sleep and accidentally bump into Harry as he’s stopped.

Harry is wearing a similar hoodie to you, because he couldn’t wear his favourite one due to lending it to you, running shorts and of course a pair of sunglasses and a hat.

“Sorry. After you.” Harry politely lets an old couple pass, which is why you were stopped short.

He turns around to you to make sure you’re okay and smiles when he sees you unattractively yawn. You look like a small kitten who has just been awoken.

“There better be a coffee shop somewhere in here.” You say as you walk through the doors.

The airport is already busy with hundreds of people buzzing to get out of this dreary country and into hotter destinations.

“Also, I love your fans, but I swear to God if one of them approaches us this morning…” You say.

Harry chuckles, “Yeah? What will you do, love hmm?”

“Turn into the Hulk.”

“I feel sorry for them already.” Harry smiles and you hit him in his arm as a joking reply.

You stand together in a snaking queue to check in and then to get through security, until you’ve made it to the other side successfully. Also, without anyone publicly exclaiming that Harry is here.

You hold Harry’s hand as you walk next to each other out of security.

“Y’wanna get coffee first? Or find somewhere to sit?” Harry asks you, hoping you’re listening but he can’t tell because your hood is up.

“Dunno.” You say indecisively, beyond tired.

“Let’s go find somewhere and then I’ll go get us coffees, yeah? You can just sit and look pretty.” He squeezes your hand.

“No. I wanna stay with you.” You wrap your other hand around his forearm and hold him close, pressing your face against his arm also.

“Okay, okay. Well let’s go this way then.”

Harry directs you to the coffee bar and you both stand in another queue as you wait to order.

“Y’want your usual?” Harry asks and you nod.

When Harry’s called over, he makes sure to bring you with him and scans the bakery section one more time.

“Hi honey! What can I get for you?” The woman behind the counter asks.

“Morning. Hi. Um, can we have one croissant, one pain au chocolat, one black coffee and one latte with a shot of caramel please. Thank you.”

As Harry pays on your shared bank card, you thank him with a small voice.

“Thank you.” You hug into his arm more.

“It’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head. He wants to kiss your lips, but he also wants to remain as PG as possible in such a public space just in case someone is secretly filming.

After you’ve collected your order, you go and find a table to sit at. You find a small booth that overlooks the runway, so you can watch the planes take off. Harry knows it’s one of your favourite things to do in an airport, so he chose this spot on purpose.

You make small talk as you eat, both of you sat on the same side of the booth so that you can lean on Harry to rest once you’ve finished.

You talk about the planes taking off and your potential itinerary for the next couple of days. Harry just listens to your rambles as he finishes your pastry too, because you couldn’t finish it.

“Can I sleep on you on the plane?” You ask.

“‘Course y’can, baby. Think we have a window seat and a middle seat.”

“Can I sit by the window?”

“Yeah. You can lean on my shoulder if y’want.”

“Please. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, love, you know that.” He kisses your forehead again.

checking in

You get out of the Uber first.

It is already so humid here in Rome and it’s just gone midday.

Your hotel is right in the centre of Rome, just a few streets over from the Trevi Fountain and then a few more streets over from the Gucci store too.

Harry made sure to book somewhere that would be accessible to the majority of everything. Money wasn’t an issue. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise you it Harry even booked the most expensive hotel in Rome.

The porter greets you and takes your suitcase for you. Harry tops the driver and thanks him with the Italian he’s been learning.

Harry takes your hand as you walk inside, thankful for the air conditioning in the building.

“Buonjiorno.” The man behind the desk greets you.

“Buonjiorno.” Harry replies. “We’re here to check in?”

You were a little early but decided you would try to check in anyways.

“Of course. Name, please?”

“Styles.”

“Both of you?”

“Yes.” Harry can’t help but smirk as he speaks. You nudge him, because you feel the same way.

“I have… Uh, Y/N Styles and Harry Styles?”

“Sí.” Harry nods.

“For 4 nights?”

“Sí.”

“Okay.” The man shuffles around some papers and types some things on the computer. “So your room number is 406. This is the fourth floor. You can take the lift up, which is just over there. Breakfast is included, which will be on the terrace between 7 and 10.”

“Amazing.” You smile for what feels like the first time since landing.

You’ve been so tired that you have found it hard to keep your eyes open and pretend like you’re alive.

“The pool is on the roof and will be open 7AM until midnight. The gym facilities are open all the time. Room service is three euros per call. These are your key cards and we hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Grazie.”

“Grazie.” You and Harry both thank the man and make your way over to the lift.

A few minutes later and Harry is opening your hotel room door.

You step inside and immediately fall in love. It’s decorated with marble floors and high ceilings with gorgeous artwork - probably that inspired of the Sistine Chapel.

The bed is a large queen size bed with lots of pillows and comforters. There’s a long chair at the foot of the bed and a sofa just across from that.

The most captivating thing about the room is the three sets of french doors, which all open onto a small balcony. There’s sheer curtains draped over the ceiling length doors, softly blowing in the wind.

Beyond that is the view that money did actually buy.

A view of the majority of Rome. You could see St Peters perfectly and Harry mentioned that the sun set will be visible from this room too. All the small buildings below and the little people on their way to work or tourists wandering.

“And?” Harry prompts.

“And what?” You twirl around to see him wandering over, after having shut the door and abandoned the suitcase.

“Is this okay?”

“Is that a serious question?” You raise your eyebrows.

You open your arms as Harry walks into you, wrapping his arms over your shoulders. He breathes you in and squeezes you tight and you follow suit.

“Mm. Want you to have the best time.”

“Harry, babe, this is perfect. More than perfect. Thank you for everything.” Your voice is muffled by speaking into Harry’s jumper.

Harry kisses you on the head a couple of times.

“Do y’want to go for a nap and then go have a wander?”

“Yes please.”

“M’kay.”

It doesn’t take you both long to get comfortable in the bed. Harry opens a door to let in a better breeze and the air con is on full to make sure you don’t overheat.

Harry lays behind you, where you’re laying on your side. Your hood is off now, because Harry likes to lean his face into your neck when you sleep. He likes to breathe in your homely scent and warmth.

His hand lays on your stomach, underneath his jumper, and rubs little circles with his fingers.

You start giggling and Harry asks what’s up with you.

“Tickles.” You hum softly, quite relaxed by the funny feeling.

“Does it now? Y’skins so soft, so I can’t help myself.”

“Won’t be soft forever. Especially if you keep on trying to get me pregnant.”

Harry kisses your neck and leaves a little mark with his teeth. His hand spreads over the span of your stomach and holds it there.

“Won’t care. When you’re pregnant, I am only going to love you and your body twice as much.”

“You say that now…”

“And I’ll say it again when the time comes.” Harry cute you off from any more deprecating thoughts. “Now shush. I’m trying to make sure you get your beauty sleep.”

exploring back alleys

You and Harry walk hand in hand down a busy street in Rome.

It is so hot and humid that your bodies are so sticky from the heat, but you hold onto each others hands nonetheless because you are simply that attached to one another.

Harry leads the way, walking around the crowds of tourists and past random shops selling art and Rome tat.

He turns around and catches you admiring all the colourful buildings and wonderful Roman architecture, and he can’t help but smile at your wonderous face.

You feel a tug on your hand Harry’s holding and giggle a little when you feel him pulling you towards a back alley.

He runs a little quicker and you have to keep up with him. You check behind you to see if he is running away from something, but no one is following and you think he’s mad for running now.

“Harry!” You laugh as he makes a harsh right and pulls you down another side street.

This one bends slightly in the middle so you can’t see the street entrance either which way.

You don’t have the time to ask any questions before Harry is pushing you against a brick wall painted apricot. He holds his hands on your face and presses his lips hungrily onto yours.

You’re not only hot from the weather, now, but also from how attracted your husband is in this moment.

You groan as he steps forward so he’s leaning infinitely close into your body. You sigh when he moves his head to the side to kiss your better, cupping your hands over his to get a guide on which way he will move next.

When he pulls away you sadly pout.

He laughs at your expression and decides to kiss you again, even longer this time. He kisses and kisses you until you make the move to pull away, before you pass out from lack of breathing.

You laugh first and then Harry follows.

Both of you have never felt happiness like this. Just happy being simply together.

“You’re so…”

“I’m so what, baby?” Harry laughs breathlessly.

“I don’t even know.” You laugh, cupping his cheek and flitting your eyes between both of his as you try to decided which one is prettier. “I do know that I love you, like a lot.”

“Only a lot?”

“Well, like as much as the universe is big.” You give him a warm summers smile.

“Oh well that’s alright then.”

He leans forwards and seals his lips with yours again. You kiss him with all the love you have pocketed for him and don’t let him go until you hear footsteps approaching.

It’s a man and his daughter on their way somewhere.

As they walk past, Harry and you loosen your hold on one another as you don’t want to display too much PDA.

Once they’ve gone Harry giggles.

“What?” You ask.

“Just thinking how that’ll be me someday. Lost in a city with our daughter ‘cause I’m too stubborn to use a map and she’ll probably be distracting me with her gorgeous face she got from her mum…” He trails off.

“That was an intense thought, babe.”

“Mm. It’s been on my mind a lot lately. Having a baby with you, I mean.”

“It’s been on my mind too.”

That’s all that’s said, but you both smile at each other knowingly that as of today you’re starting your future together.

dining out

Harry looks divine.

Dressed in an unbuttoned white linen shirt that sits on top of a white vest, with a pair of dark navy blue cotton shorts and his rusty old white vans, he has never looked so gorgeous.

It’s the subtle burn and tan of his skin that has you melting for him.

You are currently clipping his hair back with one of your small hair grips for him. He can do it himself, but he prefers it when it comes from you.

You’re both freshly showered and very hungry.

Sweet Disposition by the Temper Trap is playing in the background as you both get ready for dinner in your hotel room. After walking through Rome for the day, you spent some time in the swimming pool together and then showered together before getting ready.

“Y’look beautiful, m’love.” Harry says, watching you through the mirror.

“Thank you.” You speak softly, cheeks flushing over his compliment.

“This red dress on you is just… it’s perfect. You look perfect.”

Your red mini dress shows of your legs that Harry admires so much, and paired with a pair of platform sandals you look like a model straight from Vogue.

“Feel pretty, actually.”

“Good. Y’look prettier than anyone has ever looked in that dress.” Harry knows how to charm you best.

“Baby, you need to stop complimenting me otherwise we’ll miss our reservation.” You laugh, finishing clipping his hair.

“Can’t help myself. So lucky you chose me.” Harry picks your ring finger up and kisses over the ring that symbolises eternity between you.

“I’ll always choose you. You are too handsome not to.”

An hour later and you’re sitting at the restaurant.

Harry pulled your chair out for you and made sure you were comfortable before sitting in his own chair.

The restaurant is on a lovely little side street, decorated with fairy lights across the terracotta wall. There are ivy vines growing there too and the atmosphere is just peaceful.

There are a few families and other couples here too. It’s not a very fancy restaurant as Harry admitted that the best restaurants in Italy are the most homely and authentic ones.

The waiter was already fetching some water for you whilst you looked the menu.

“What are you thinking, baby?” You ask Harry, from where he is sat across from you.

“Maybe just a Margarita pizza.”

“Really?” You question his taste in food.

“Need something simple but good tasting tonight.”

“Okay, well at least get the bruschetta with me for starters?” You ask, wanting to share something with him.

“Sounds good, yeah.”

When the food comes, you feed Harry some of your pasta whilst Harry gifts you a slice of pizza. Both dishes are beautiful and cooked perfectly.

You both laugh and have the most amazing evening.

The best moment of the evening is when an old couple walk past you, holding each others hands.

“You two are so beautiful together.” The old man says.

“Thank you so much.” Harry smiles and holds your hand in his from across the table.

“Your love reminds me of ours. Precious. Forever.” He goes on to say and you have to swallow back the tears from how sweet his words are.

Harry smiles at you.

“Definitely forever.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles italy #harry styles rome #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles husband #harry styles blurbs #finelinevogue fic

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leahsgirl · 4 months

Text

valentines sucks

— in which y/n’s original valentine’s day plans fall through and leah decides to take her out herself.

pairings - leah williamson x female reader

warnings - minor swearing but that’s about it really

a/n - an early valentine’s day post because i have the patience of a three year old, here’s some fluff for the lovely day 💐💒

—

“Babe wake up.” shaking the body next to you in bed, you was answered with grumbles before you could hear faint snores again. “Baby, come on get up, it’s valentine’s day!” With a reluctant sigh, the man next to you shifted so his upper body was pressed against the headboard, rubbing his eyes for a brief second.

“here.” an excited grin covered your face as you handed him a red envelope and a neatly wrapped present. “well go on; open it.”

the brown haired boy peeled open the envelope, revealing a handmade card covered in red lipstick kisses and cut-out hearts made from card. “To Tobias, happy valentine’s day, i love you, thanks for another year together, love y/n.” He placed down the card and reached for the present, tearing the wrapping paper open to reveal a homemade scrapbook. “Look inside, theres a surprise.” At this point you was itching with anticipation, personally you thought you’d outdone yourself with the valentine’s day gifts this year and couldn’t wait to get your boyfriend’s reaction.

Tobias pulled out a folded piece of paper, opening it up you watched as he read the words on the page. “We’re going Canada?” He looked confused. “Well I know it’s always been one of the places you’ve wanted to go, plus you said you had some family down there so I thought this is the perfect opportunity to go visit them.”

“y/n I don’t know what to say.” The olive skinned boy replied as he looked over the piece of paper again. “Hm most people normally say thank you.” You laughed as you moved closer to him. “Do you like it?”

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he gave a weak smile and nodded. Oblivious to his change in demeanour, you pressed your lips to his pulling him in for a short but sweet kiss.

“Okay my turn!” now crossing your legs and holding your hands out, you shut your eyes.

“Oh..uhm..shit yeah.” Tobias got up off the bed, walking back and forth as he tried to find something to give you. A fun fact you should know about Tobias; he’s a pretty shitty person - you just failed to acknowledge it at this point. “Listen y/n-“ He sunk back onto the mattress. Opening your eyes you notice he’s looking anywhere but you. “You forgot didn’t you?” The lack of response told you everything you needed to know, your mood instantly deflating.

Scoffing, you got up out of bed and made your way into the bathroom. “y/n wait I can make it up to you.” Tobias rang out but you were choosing to ignore him.

Whipping out your phone, you decide to text your fellow teammates/friends:

y/n - he’s only gone and forgot again, i’m at a loss for words, valentines sucks

meado - you deserve better y/n i’m sorry

geo stanway - break up with him! break up with him!

y/n - you say it like it’s easy

elton - do you want me to come and twat him?

lee lee - be ready in 15 mins, wear something warm.

Despite the curiosity, you follow the defenders instructions, throwing on some light wash jeans and a beige jumper, finishing off the look with a matching beanie. Unlocking the door, you find yourself face to face with Tobias. “Where are you going?”

“Out. Also i’d appreciate if you weren’t here when I get back, I think it’s best we both have some space.” With that you leave the room, grab your bag and leave the apartment.

You didn’t have to wait for Leah for long, you was only stood outside your apartment complex for a couple of minutes before you caught a glimpse that famous blonde hair. “My car’s around the corner, come on let’s go.”

“Hello y/n, hello Leah, it’s nice to see you, it’s nice to see you too. And they say chivalry is dead.” You said sarcastically as the older girl was already turning around to head back to her Audi. She pauses, waiting for you to catch up “Sorry, it’s just we’re on a bit of a time limit.”

You raised your eyebrows quizzically, “care to tell me where we’re going? and why I had to dress warm,”

She glances you up and down before smiling like a mischievous kid “Nope and Nope, you look beautiful though.” You could feel the blush creeping up on your cheeks at the compliment. “Leah Williamson: The charmer.”

“Always.” The blonde winked at you before opening the car door and sliding into the drivers seat. “Mind if I connect my phone to play music?” Leah shook her head and you started pressing all sorts of buttons on the touchscreen device. Eventually you got up CarPlay with it displaying Leah’s last played song “‘I see the light’, Seriously? How old are you?”

It was the blue-eyed girls turn to blush now, witnessing a sense of embarrassment come over her. “Hey it’s a good song from a great film, i’m going to ignore your judging.”

You raise your hands up in defence “No judging - I actually think it’s quite cute. In fact it gives me even more evidence for my ‘leah williamson is actually a massive softie’ list i’m compiling.” She gives you a stern look but you know she’s only playing and you continue to shuffle songs until you come across one you like.

The car journey was pleasant and entertaining, talking about pretty much anything and everything along with a quick game of would you rather. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, it’s probably why you liked being around the taller girl so much. Leah parked up and the two of you got out the vehicle. “Hold my hand?” You accepted the extended arm and laced your fingers with hers, choosing not to acknowledge how right it felt.

Syncing up steps, Leah guided you towards an area that got noisier the closer you got, nonetheless brighter. “Welcome to London’s biggest funfair.” The blonde announced.

“How on earth did you know I always wanted to come here?!” Looking around, you could see a multitude of various rides and mini-game stalls, not to mention your ultimate favourite; the ferris wheel. “I listen y/n, that’s how.” Just that sentence alone sent your stomach flipping. “What do you propose we do first?”

Scanning around, you take notice of the bumper cars and smirk to yourself “How about a good olé head-to-head at bumper cars?”

The mention of competition was enough to get Leah to agree, trailing along behind you to get in the queue. She was so going to win.

Now as it turned out, she in fact did not win, and instead is complaining of whiplash. “Stupid pissing game.” She grumbled causing you to snicker “it’s alright Lee, i’m sure after another one..or one hundred goes you’ll be able to have a chance at beating me.”

Lots of games later, you sat yourselves on a bench, holding one of the greatest inventions known to man. “I can’t believe you’ve never had warm donuts, you’ve been missing out.” You weren’t being dramatic when you felt a piece of yourself shatter when Leah told you she’s never tried the popular carnival dessert. “They’ve just never really appealed to me.”

“And that ladies and gentlemen is what is wrong with society today.” Opening the box and letting the smell hit you, you broke a donut in half, holding it out for Leah to take a bite out of. You watched as the blonde ate the sugary treat and widened her eyes “Okay they’re gorgeous.” She revealed as she went for the other half.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Hey do you mind waiting here for a few minutes, I’ve got to go do something real quick.” The defender got up off the table and waited for your approval before actually leaving. Once you nodded, she was off in the opposite direction, leaving you with just the now empty donut box and both of your belongings.

However, after around ten minutes she returned, holding something behind her back. “Okay close your eyes and put your hands out.” Following her orders you do exactly that, feeling a soft weight now in your possession. Taking a look, in your hands was a small brown bear with a heart attached to its claws. “Happy Valentine’s day y/n.” Leah spoke softly and your heart was beating faster than it does when playing a match. “Lee you didn’t have to do that you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Also, I had to win something to make up for the bumper cars.”

You shook your head smiling “Oh so it wasn’t a cute little gift, it was to restore your overinflated ego.” quirking a brow, it was Leah’s turn to smile like a little kid “Guess you could say we got the best of both worlds.”

You both decided you should probably start to head back. But not before riding the ferris wheel that is, heading over to the massive thing hand in hand.

Once secured in by a metal bar, you wait for the ride to commence. “Can I ask a question?” You turn to look at the girl next to you, she nodded. “Why did bring me here? why did you even take me out at all?” It was Valentine’s day after all, you guys weren’t dating, you was sure she had people higher up on her list she wanted to see today of all days.

“You need to leave him y/n.” The sentence was stated so effortlessly but you couldn’t help but feel a punch to the gut sensation. “you deserve better.”

“He never used to be like this.” You mumbled under your breath but the blonde still caught it, deciding just to drop the matter.

“What’s with the love of funfairs anyways?” Leah asked, gripping onto the bar harder now you were at the very top of the contraption.

“My dad used to bring me to them all the time as a little kid. My mum was always travelling the country with work so I guess it was his way of getting me to cheer up. Not to mention he would always win me a stuffed animal and then we’d end the day with the warm donuts. You smiled at the memory. “Then he got sick and we stopped coming.” It still stung a little when you reminisce over your father’s diagnosis and how you watched him deteriorate with each and every hospital visit.

“I’m sorry y/n, i didn’t mean to bring him u-“ You cut in, “No it’s okay don’t worry, you remind me of him a lot actually.”

The skipper looked at you confused “Do I?”

“Well he was very kind, funny, determined and not to forget sometimes arrogant - all characteristics you share.” Leah swatted your arm, “I’m not that arrogant.”

“Oh yes you definitely are.” Chuckling as you intertwined your arms. “But I wouldn’t change you for the world if that makes you feel better.”

“It does make me feel better actually.”

Now you were sat in the car on the way home, scrolling through socials on your phone. Leah was concentrating on the road, cursing out the odd ‘dickhead’ or ‘twat’ here and there. “Do you reckon if I post a picture of us at the funfair on my instagram we’ll get floods of dating accusations?” Ever since being in the public eye you’ve been very careful about what you chose to share on your social media; people are like vultures and you’re the bait. According to articles and fan pages, you’ve dated everyone on your squad and more, some have even suggested your relationship with Tobias is a pr stunt, but your personal favourite is that you’re apparently pregnant because you had a break from social media for a few months.

“All the fans already assume we have a thing going on. Post it if you like.” The older girl was right, back when you transferred to arsenal three years ago up until this day fans have always had their conspiracy theories around the pair, you never played into it however, just letting them think what they think, sending them into frenzies if a post was ever made with the two of you together.

Humming in agreement, you start crafting out your post, thinking of an appropriate caption before pressing share. “Done.”

Another twenty minutes or so had passed and you could tell you were getting closer to home, recognising certain buildings. It was around this time when Leah had started very quietly singing along to the song playing through the speakers. The blue-eyed girl had a very pretty voice in your opinion and you often didn’t understand why she felt embarrassed singing in front of people.

You continued to watch the girl, a genuine smile making its way to your lips.

put your lips close to mine

as long as they don’t touch

out of focus, eye to eye

‘til the gravity’s too much

i’ll do anything you say

if you say it with your hands

Now you don’t know if it was the way she was singing the lyrics, or the way the sunlight was bouncing off her face to give her a gorgeous sun-kissed look, or how every so often she’d make eye contact with you and smile. But somehow, all you wanted to do was-

“Okay pretty, we’re here.” Pulling you out of your little daydream, you looked out the window to see you was in fact outside your apartment.

“Okay well thank you for doing this for me today, it means a lot.” Leaning across the gearstick, you pulled her in for a side hug.

Your name has echoed through my mind

And I just think you should, think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive

And I would follow you, follow you home

I'll follow you, follow you home

You pulled back to look at the defender, examining her whole face. She watched as your eyes flicked down to her lips, and back up. It could have just been both of your imaginations, but the tension was thick. You could drop a pin and you’re convinced you would hear it.

You found yourself leaning in, faces only inches apart now. The thing that shocked you the most was that Leah made no attempt to move back, instead she kept her gaze firmly locked on yours.

“Sorry for what I’m about to do.” Were the final words you breathed out before pressing your lips on the defenders. It started out light, almost afraid if you applied anymore pressure, she’d back away. But those fears were squashed when you felt a pair of lips kiss you back, this time with more intent.

You could feel a warm hand travel to the back of your neck, pulling you closer if that was even possible. Running a hand through her blonde locks you felt a smile playing at the girls lips as she continued to kiss back.

Pulling apart your chest was heaving. Suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings you wave her goodbye and exit the car, taking one last look at Leah before practically running up the steps to your building.

Once inside, you reach for the phone in your pocket that has just buzzed. Unlocking it you see you have one new message.

from: lee lee

break up with him.

#leah williamson x reader #woso #leah williamson #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #lionesses #england lionesses #y/n #when is it my turn #i want a gf #i want a boyfriend #just cried #treacherous #taylor swift #taylor swift lyrics #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x y/n

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msgexymunson · 4 months

Text

One Slow Blink Part 1

Description: As a nurse, you want to help people, as many as you can. But, with the insane things that have been going on in Hawkins, and the crazed look in Dustin's eyes when he stumbles into the ER covered in blood with an impossible tale to tell, it makes you wonder; how much are you prepared to give?

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, *Here there be monsters! Honestly, there's straight up monster fucking in this so if you're not into that do not read*, AFAB sub nurse reader x dom monster Eddie, kinda Alpha/Omega without them knowing it, injury descriptions, S4 does happen and Eddie lives but he be a monster, hand job, fem oral receiving, male oral receiving, consensual predator/prey dynamic, fingering, very rough sex, biting/marking, unprotected p in v, knotting.

A/N: Part 1 of 2, only due to Tumblr restrictions. Adding the second part in a minute. This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)

22k words in total for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)

Masterlist Part 2

Tires screech off of the road and onto a dirt path as Nancy turns erratically in her station wagon, the whole car shuddering in protest. Her hands are shaking on the wheel; so much so that you place a placating hand on her knee to try to calm her down.

You didn't know Nancy, not really. Hell, you only knew Dustin because he came into the hospital for a nasty cut on his leg when he fell off his bike three months ago. Then all of a sudden he shows up in the emergency room covered in blood, grime matted into his curly locks and tear streaks cutting through the dirt on his face.

He swore until he was blue in the face that it wasn't his, that he needed a doctor, anyone that could help. You tried and failed to convince him to call an ambulance but he insisted that no one else in the hospital would understand.

There was something about the desperate look in his eyes. It was frightening; those innocent eyes were hard, harder than they had any right to be. Dustin had seen something no child should have had to witness. With Max being admitted blind and unconscious with both arms and legs broken, and all the talk about strange occurrences around town, not to mention the freak earthquakes, it wasn't difficult to believe. But there was something he was not telling you, you were sure of it. Who comes to the ER without a patient and begs a nurse to come with them?

A feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach. The same thing had happened when the mall caught on fire. A feeling that things weren't what they at first glance appeared. Something strange and unnatural was going in, you were sure of it.

Maybe that's why you stole a trauma kit out of an ambulance. Maybe that's why you got in the car, pushed into the front seat by Dustin and Nancy. Maybe that's why you're being bundled out of said car and running through the woods, bracken cutting your ankles through your scrubs and leaves whipping at your face.

A light in the distance cuts through the dark, glowing and growing as you quickly approach. A small cabin, you see, ramshackle and falling apart. Stepping towards it, you're about to go in when a bellowing roar echoes throughout the woods and into your chest, vibrating your very lungs and stealing your breath away. The kind of roar that makes your survival instincts run wild, telling you to flee. You would listen to it, if your gut wasn't telling you that you were right where you were supposed to be.

A minute later, Steve is slamming the front door open, looking dishevelled. There's crimson smeared on his cheek; two long cuts run from temple to jaw dripping blood.

“Is he why-”

“Henderson, what the hell dude! You can't just bring anyone here!”

“I know Steve! She can help, she's a doctor-”

“Nurse, actually,” you interrupt rather sheepishly.

Steve rubs his hand through his mussed up hair and takes a pace backwards.

“Great, that's just great. When I told you to get someone-”

Dustin's response is high pitched and hard, tuning through the clearing.

“I did. I got someone! It's not like I could freaking advertise!”

“Look, you said you need help. What can I do?”

Steve and Dustin exchange dark glances.

“Alright, you better come with me.”

He heads back inside and you follow quietly wondering what the hell you've gotten yourself into.

The cabin is quaint, and clearly used to be a well loved home a while ago. Now however, there's a gaping hole in the ceiling and dust trailed across the living area. Robin is sitting on an old sofa, you remember her being in band at school. She looks terrible, cracking her knuckles and mumbling to herself incoherently.

“He's through here.”

You trail Steve as he leads to a door that's slightly ajar. Pushing it open with one finger he leans on the doorframe and gestures with the other hand at the most impossible thing you've ever seen in your life.

“What… is that?”

“That is Eddie.”

There's a figure strapped to a double bed with strips of fabric bound to its wrists and ankles. Torn clothing is clinging to parts of it, and what skin you can see is a mass of blood and hair. No, not hair. Fur. Its spine seems wrong, curving more than a humans, and its fingers are thick and adorned with semicircular black claws. The face is not recognizable anymore. You see a huge maw, lips curled in anger with razor sharp teeth on display and spit gathering down its matted chin. That's been bound too; a leather belt wrapped tight around it, you assume to stop it biting. It writhes around on the bed, snarling and growling deep in its throat as various wounds bleed out in front of you. One of its arms, if you could call it that, is bent at an odd angle and seems to be limp compared to the rest of it.

Standing there open-mouthed, you gawp at the thing.

“You said this is- this is Eddie??”

“Listen, I know it's insane-”

You step into the room, pulled by an invisible thread. It turns its head and looks straight into your eyes. Wide, warm eyes, full of pain, pleading with you. They're a soft brown, burnt umber, with a whisper of honey and summer days. Familiar eyes. Human eyes.

“Its- his arm is broken I think, and these wounds… isn't he wanted for-”

“He didn't do it. He could never. Just- just do what you can. Please. He- he's a hero.”

Standing by the edge of the bed, you reach out with shaking fingers to touch him lightly on the shoulder. He whips his head around, jaw inches from your trembling hand. His chest is heaving, arm struggling against its bindings.

“Eddie.”

You kneel to his eye level and stroke softly at the tatters of his t-shirt. He looks panicked, wide eyes rolling like a cornered animal as he continues to struggle.

“Eddie, I'm here to help you.”

Nothing but low growls and broken whines come from his tightly bound maw. The thrashing intensifies; he nearly lifts the bed up with sheer force. Steve takes a step back, but not you.

You climb up on the bed and straddle his floundering form. Blood smears your scrubs as you grasp his head firmly and turn it to face you.

“Eddie Munson, you listen to me right now! Stop squirming and listen!”

The silence is deafening, ringing in your ears. He stops his incessant battle against his confines and looks at you, the look of a frightened boy.

Voice softening, you stroke at the newly grown fur on his cheek. It's soft and warm.

“Eddie, do you remember me? We used to have English class together two years ago, with Mrs O’Donnell? You sat next to me. Remember?”

A flash of recognition dawns behind those soft brown eyes.

“You were late nearly everyday. You used to draw amazing things in your notebook, all sorts of creatures and symbols and I thought it was incredible. You- any time you caught me looking at you, you winked. You know I nearly failed that class because I was too busy staring at you, seeing what you'd do next?”

His breathing starts to slow down, his heaving chest moving up and down almost rhythmically now.

“You are Eddie Munson. You're in there, I can tell. I know you're scared, I get it, but I need to try and treat you. OK?”

He breathes deep, and something akin to a nod happens which seems to hurt him judging by the way his face tightens.

“Right. Stay still. I need to try and set your arm. I've got some painkillers in the trauma bag, so I'll need to inject you. Can you- can you blink once for yes, twice for no?”

He closes his eyes slowly, tight shut, and then opens them again.

“That's it, that's good. I'll be back.”

Clambering off his huge form, you turn to Steve who is already clutching the bag in his hands.

“That was- how did you do that?”

Filtering through the bag to find what you need, you pull out a syringe and unpack it, and find the drugs you're looking for and start setting up the needle.

“Listen, if I think about this too much I'm gonna panic, so shut up. I've never done this before.”

A strange calmness has descended upon you. Taking the needle you move back to Eddie's side and find a vein in his muscular arm.

“Eddie, I'm gonna inject you with some painkillers to take the edge off, OK?”

One slow blink.

“Good. You'll feel a scratch, doing it now.”

Once the drugs hit his system you know they've helped as the tension seems to leave his body.

“I need to set his arm, can you try and hold him steady?”

Steve looks like he'd rather run for the hills, but to his credit he nods and approaches.

“Right, hold up by his shoulder there, keep him still.”

You untie his limp wrist and Eddie whimpers when his arm falls to the bed.

“Now, Eddie, this is gonna hurt like hell, but once it's done it'll feel alot better.”

Instead of counting down you just arrange his arm into what you think is the right place and twist in one smooth motion.

Eddie's body convulses; you can see Steve trying to push all his weight into him, knuckles white from the pressure. The howling growl that rips from Eddie is muffled by the leather strap around his muzzle, and then it cuts off.

Eddie is completely still. After a second, a snarling snore fills the room.

“I think he passed out.”

“That's probably for the best. Now I need two straight sticks or something, and the bandages from my bag. I suppose I need to splint this.”

“What do you mean you suppose?”

“Steve!”

“OK OK! Jeez, you sound just like Nancy.”

He jogs off to get what you asked for, and when you have your materials you tie his arm into a makeshift splint.

“Now, there's trauma shears in the bag. I need to cut his clothes off and treat these wounds.”

Steve fumbles through the bag as you get more bandages and gauze ready. He passes them to you and you methodically remove the scraps of grimy torn clothes, eventually leaving him in a pair of tatty looking boxer shorts.

“Are you gonna, erm, cut those-”

“I think we can leave those on,” you rush it out of your mouth, a little faster and more high pitched than you meant to.

“Now, I need warm water and a clean towel or something.”

As you work together, Steve following your directions, you clean and bandage each wound you see as best as you can. After what seems like forever, you're finally finished, collapsing onto the floor exhausted with your back flush against the wall to keep you upright.

“He's probably gonna need some antibiotics. Those bites looked pretty gnarly. Maybe a tetanus shot. Fuck, maybe a vet.”

You huff a laugh with zero amusement in it as Steve sinks to the floor next to you.

“That was awesome, how'd you know all that stuff?”

“I'm studying to be a doctor, and I read every chance I get. I'm a junior nurse. You get to see some shit in the ER. Nothing like this, but apparently I must have learned something.”

“Sure did. You wanna go and get some rest? There's a bed next door.”

“No, I'll stay here, keep an eye on him. He's gonna need food, and water though.”

“I got it.”

Steve gets up and leaves, returning with a chair and a blanket.

“Thanks Steve. Is Dustin alright?”

“He fell asleep on the couch, when he's awake we'll tell you everything.”

He goes then, and you hear the front door shut softly.

********************

You ache, your back bending, contorting in a way that makes it burn. A warm blanket is covering your shoulders though, and the pillow underneath you is firm and fuzzy. There's an odd pressure on top of your head; it's slightly comforting. Risking opening one eye, yesterday's memories begin to flow into your consciousness.

You're sitting in a chair, bent over Eddie's sick bed, and that's not a pillow. Your head is resting on a furry shoulder. Reaching a tentative hand upward you realise his huge paw of a hand is resting on your head. Fingers find coarse hair, rougher than the fuzz on his chest, and his thick fingers taper into a bone like claw, smooth and curved.

With the patience of a bomb defusal expert, you lift his hand ever so gently and place it on his stomach. There's much less fur there, you see in the daylight, mostly skin and rippling muscle. It flexes under your gaze as his paw settles on top of it, absentmindedly scratching his skin in his sleep.

Careful not to wake him, you sit up and stretch, hearing pops and clicks from your backbone. He looks peaceful, huge chest rising and falling gently. The hair on his head is still long, matted and dirty but soft looking. There's a fuzz on his cheeks, and that maw of his is no longer snarling in pain though his canines still jut out slightly. An ear peeks out from his curls, the flesh still soft and pinkish, but it curls into a rounded point with downy fur at the tip.

Your eyes rake down, over his chest with the tattoo near his heart. The fur is thinner here too, and starts growing thickly in a long rope at his belly button, towards the hem of his underwear. A small gasp escapes you when you see the tent in his boxers. His member is pressing hard against the fabric, trying to break free from its cotton prison. It's thick, and clearly enormously long, your thighs clenching at the thought of touching it.

Well that was unexpected. You tear your eyes away almost shamefully. Just look at him, he's almost monstrous. Stop thinking about his package.

The door behind you creaks open, and Dustin is standing there. His gaze sweeps over Eddie, then sees what you just saw. Eyes widening comically, he slaps a hand over his face to block his view.

You stand, shrugging off the blanket you had wrapped around you, and place it delicately over Eddie. Taking one last look at his peaceful features, you follow Dustin out.

He and Nancy tell you everything. The demogorgon, the Upside Down, Will, Eleven, Vecna. It takes a couple of hours but you're patient, only asking questions to clarify some points. It's not like you don't believe him. After last night, you think you could believe anything.

By the time he's done, Steve is back with food, dumping bags in the kitchen.

“I took Robin home, she's in shock but she'll be alright. So how's Eddie Dog?”

“Eddie Dog?” You question, brow furrowing. Dustin pipes up.

“Demogorgon, Demodogs, Eddie Dog. I did think DemoEddie but Dog seems more-”

“I get it. He seems alright, I think. I mean, he's sleeping. I'll have to check the arm, and see if he gets a fever or anything but that seems like the least of his problems.”

Nancy speaks then, looking at you gently.

“You're being really, calm, about all this. You OK?”

“Oh I'm fine. I don't know why, but I'm fine. I sort of knew, deep down, what's been happening wasn't normal. Something told me I needed to be here, and I was right.”

Steve nods, happy with your response. At least he doesn't need to worry about you freaking out right now. Nancy just purses her lips and doesn't say anything else.

“I'm gonna have to untie him, you know. He needs to drink, and eat.”

“I'll help.” Dustin stands up, but you wave him down.

“No, I'll do it. He calmed down for me yesterday. I can do it.”

You stand and walk back over to Eddie's room, pushing the door open carefully. He stirs, looking at you with one eye.

“Eddie, how you feeling?”

He snorts, trying to paw at the leather around his muzzle with his injured arm.

“I'm gonna take that off and untie you. Are you… are you gonna be nice?”

He settles in the bed, head low to his chest. You take that as the best sign you can get right now. Walking over to him slowly, he turns his head to you. His eyes are soft.

You reach your hand out and cup his face gently, working the belt off with the other as you make shushing noises at him. You're not sure if they are for his benefit or yours.

When it's off, Eddie stretches his mouth wide, giving you a flash of rows of sharp teeth, and a long, thick purplish tongue. He snaps it shut and licks his lips dryly.

“You want some water?”

He blinks slowly at you. His eyelashes are thick and long, and almost look weirdly feminine against his wolfish face.

“Oh you remember that?”

Another slow blink.

“Good. Let me get you some water.”

You stand up but Steve's already at your elbow with a glass.

“Hey Munson, still alive then?”

Eddie stares at Steve for a second, lifts his injured arm up gradually, and unfurls his middle finger. Steve laughs loudly; relief coating it.

“Seems like you're still you. Good, I can't handle Dustin on my own, he's exhausting.”

A weird huffing noise comes from Eddie, almost a laugh. You hold the water up and he sits up slightly. No idea of how to get him to drink it, you tip up his chin and trickle some water gently into his open maw. He splutters slightly but manages to swallow it.

“I'm gonna untie you now, OK?”

He blinks slowly at you again and an unexpected warmth floods you. You begin at his feet; unbinding them, rubbing his ankles where they are red and sore, and rotating his feet around to get his circulation back. When you move to his bound arm he stares at you intensely, so much so it makes you blush. You take the same amount of time inspecting it, rubbing the redness away and circling his wrist.

When you move your hand he grasps it awkwardly so you can't move away. An odd noise is coming out of his mouth, a drawn out rumble of sound. His eyes crease with the effort.

A word emerges.

“...Thank.”

It's low, animal like, almost a growl, but it's a word.

“Eddie, you can talk?”

Tears spring into the corners of your eyes, though you don't know why. His face scrunches again, another bubble of growling sound forcing its way out of his maw.

“...harrrd.”

He looks like he's about to cry. You hold his cheek, stroking at the soft fur.

“It's alright, I'm sure it'll get better. You're just not used to it. I'll talk enough for the both of us, OK?”

He blinks deliberately at you again. A moment passes where you just stare at each other. Shaking your head as if to clear it, you cross to the other side of the bed to look at his broken arm.

“This looks… this can't be right. Eddie, does it hurt?”

He blinks once.

“OK, does it hurt a lot?”

Two slow blinks.

Untying the bandage, it looks almost healed. You change it, and inspect his other wounds. They look like they're already scarring, a mass of dried blood sticks to each patch of matted fur and skin but you could swear the damage happened weeks ago. They're healed so much that you take the wrappings off and don't bother to recover them.

“They've healed. I don't know how, but look.”

Eddie looks down at the scars on his abdomen, pawing at them in disbelief, causing dried blood to crust off in crimson flakes.

“Do you think you can stand up? We need to get you clean.”

He nods softly and you move to hold his uninjured arm to help him up. Placing two elongated feet on the floor, he manages to bend his knees and rise from the mattress.

He's huge. Seeing him unfurl makes you realise just how huge. He's got to be at least seven feet tall, with a broad chest and thick, powerful legs. He turns to the door and whips you inadvertently.

“Ouch, be careful with your tail Eddie.”

He spins, turning to look over his shoulder and stares at you with wild eyes.

“Yes, tail. Look.”

His paw reaches and feels it, face twisted incredulously. He shuffles forward toward the door frame with it still in his grip approaching where Steve is standing.

“Don't play with that you'll go blind,” he jokes. Eddie pats him in the chest with what should have been a mock hit, but the force of it pushes Steve back into the wall.

“Woah, easy there, big guy.”

You angle Eddie toward the bathroom and he ducks low, shuffling sideways through the doorway.

“Hmm,” you say, thinking aloud, “no way you're standing under that shower. Tell you what, if you sit in the tub I should be able to clean you.”

He stares wide eyed, glancing down to his tattered underwear and back up to you.

“You need help, Eddie, your arms broken and you shouldn't get it wet. Don't worry, I've seen- no wait, I've not seen anything like this before, but I'm a nurse. I can help you.”

Eddie continues to stand there, a low growl beginning to vibrate out of his chest. You close and lock the bathroom door, then turn back to him with your arms folded.

“Enough of that, you don't scare me. Pants off and in the tub. Now.”

Snapping his teeth in annoyance, he hooks claws into his underwear and pulls them down. As he clambers awkwardly in you briefly see his member hanging between his legs before he cups himself and settles down, squished in the enamel bath.

“Right, stick your bad arm out to the side, that's it, let me get the water running.”

You unclip the tiny shower head and turn it on, directing the stream to the plug hole until it's warm enough. Then, you begin to clean him methodically, rinsing all the blood and grime away. His fur is soft, muscles flexing under each gentle touch of your fingertips. You rinse his head of hair under the shower head, massaging his scalp, and a noise bordering on a purr exudes from him.

You're not sure if you should use shampoo over his whole body, but since all you can find to scrub him with is some drug store 3 in 1 and your bare hands, you suppose that will have to do. You begin to lather his head, rinse it off, and start working down his torso. He squirms, getting more tense the further down you go, until he starts hissing at each brush of your fingers.

“Eddie, what's wrong?”

Voice tight and strained through his tense jaw, he manages a word.

“Hurrrt.”

“I'm sorry, I'm trying to be careful. Where does it hurt?”

Throwing his head back, it smacks into the wall so hard the room shakes.

“Eddie, I can't help if-”

He looks at you and nods downwards towards his crotch, the one place you've avoided entirely so far. You follow his gaze and he awkwardly uncups himself.

His cock is standing to attention, twitching and throbbing. The end is bulbous and as purple as his tongue, the shaft thick and long, snaking out from a base of matted fur.

Your face glows with heat, blood pumping viciously to your cheeks.

“Did- did it get, er, injured, yesterday?”

He shakes his head, wincing with the movement.

“Do you want me to leave you for a minute?”

It's practically a whisper. Eddie looks anywhere but your face. Moving his hand, he shows you that he can't hold around the shaft with his thick claws.

“OK I get you,” you say, nerves shaking your voice.

You said you'd help him. You can just help him, right?

“D-do you want me to help?”

His eyes snap to yours, wide and wet. He doesn't move or say anything further, just stares. You reach down with your hand, checking up with his face. There's no change in his beastial features. Hesitantly, you cup the swollen head with your palm. He flinches, water cascading out of the tub, but doesn't take his eyes off you.

Reaching down, you gather some lather from the grubby water and begin to move your hand up and down his bulky shaft. It feels hot to the touch, and solid as a rock underneath the soft feel of his delicate skin. The noise he makes is almost a sigh of relief, head leaning backward as his spine arches to your touch.

You're struggling to get your hand around his thickness, so you extend your other arm and wrap both hands around his impressive length, stroking firmly up and down. Eddie starts whining in his throat, a desperate noise. He's thrusting into your grip, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. You start to feel throbbing between your own legs, a pulse thumping deep inside that's difficult to ignore. Focusing on your strokes, you push the feeling to the back of your mind.

You watch him instead, his chest heaving, legs beginning to shake as his dick leaks pre cum down your hands. Adding a twist to the tip of his head with each upstroke, he whimpers and whines in his throat. Impossibly, he seems to be getting even larger. You feel a bulbous growth at the base of his cock at the same time he releases, splattering cum over your fists, his chest, the water, his legs. You've never seen so much cum in all your life. He tenses all over, stifling a broken grunt from his maw. You go to move off him but he places a paw over your hand, a silent plea to keep you in place. So, you keep holding him firmly as his breath starts to regulate again.

A few minutes later he lets you go, his cock still half hard and slightly submerged in the water. Not saying a word, you rinse him down, cleaning any remaining suds and sticky release off of him, not daring to look up at his face. Once that's done, you cough and stand up, grabbing a scratchy towel to dry him off with. As he gets out of the bath, water winding down the drain and gurgling in protest, you dry him off as best as you can, taking care to be gentle around the scabs and scars. The room smells like wet dog. Finally wrapping the towel around his waist, you step back, looking over his body to check if anything is bleeding.

A clawed hand reaches to your face, the rough furry knuckle tucking under your chin, lifting it up. For the first time since it happened, you look back into his eyes, shame tumbling in your gut.

“Thanks.”

“Don't mention it.”

He gestures widely at his torso, and you snap back to your senses.

“Clothes! I'll- I'll find you something to wear, just- just hold on. I'll be back.”

You stumble quickly out the bathroom, back slamming against the shut door and close your eyes.

What in the absolute fuck was that?

You have no answers. Surely you were just being a good friend? A really good friend. It didn't explain why you are turned on so much, your own thighs feeling wet and sticky, slick dampening your underwear.

Nancy approaches as you snap your eyes open.

“You OK? Can I help?”

“Yeah, er, we need some clothes for him. Big clothes. Real big. Is there… anything?”

“Hmm,” she says, “I think I saw some of Hopper's old things in the closet. I can go out? Grab some things?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

She nods, flashing a tight lipped smile, and grabs her keys from the side. You search the closet and find a white t-shirt and some sweats, returning to the bathroom to help him put them on. The top is a stretch; on anyone else it'd be baggy but on him it looks like a muscle shirt. After some minor adjustments to the pants, which included cutting a hole for his tail, they fit well enough.

“Listen, Eddie, I need to leave.”

He snaps his head towards you, whining.

“It's alright, I've just got a shift at the hospital. Nancy's getting some more clothes for you, and Steve's brought some food. Go. Go and eat, and I'll be back in a few hours.”

He huffs, but moves carefully to the living room anyway. You explain what's happening to Steve, making sure to tell him to change the bedsheets, and turn to the front door. As you're about to leave, you hear a low, growling word that shakes through you and makes your eyes brim with emotion. It's your name.

********************

You shower and change at the hospital, willing your shift to be over and done with. Managing to explain away your disappearance last night to your boss with a trite story of helping with Search and Rescue, you breathe in the relief that you won't lose your job. He even understands that you need a couple of days leave; after you hint heavily that you had lost your family in the earthquakes of course. It's a dirty lie, your family doesn't even live near here anymore, but he doesn't need to know that.

With all the medical emergencies, you're rushed off of your feet, which at least makes the time fly by. After the shift you race back to your apartment, flinging things in a bag. Changes of clothes, a bunch of leftover food from the freezer, and a tape player with a few tapes that you hope will cheer Eddie up. You change as well, putting on a summer dress and tennis shoes, trying to convince yourself you're not doing it for him.

It's inexplicable; you're aching to see him again. It's like a limb has been severed and the phantom pain is excruciating. Which is fucking mental to say the least. You barely know him, and he's… changed.

Driving like a woman possessed, you reach the dirt turning in record time, slamming the breaks when you reach Steve and Nancy's cars. At least he's not alone.

As you jog toward the cabin, you hear a roar, one so loud it dislodges birds from their nests, flapping anxiously to escape. The jog turns into a run as you fly toward the front door, unceremoniously slamming it open.

“Thank Christ it's you! I can't. I can't deal with him. Please.”

Steve looks drained, begging you with wide eyes. There's a fresh cut under his eye with a small bruise forming.

“What the hell happened?”

Nancy approaches, placing a thin hand on your forearm.

“Eddie, he's… we can't do anything, he just keeps calling your name.”

“Roaring it, actually,” Steve adds, looking at your hand with the bulky bag in it. “Are you staying?”

“Yeah, well I thought, I mean- I live alone. No one's gonna miss me for a few days. The hospital knows, so yeah. I suppose I'm staying.”

A crash next door makes you all jump.

“Are you gonna-”

“Yes, I'm going in there. I'll be fine.”

As you tiptoe to the door, you hear Steve mutter, ‘she must be one of us, she goes towards the scary noises.’

“Eddie.”

It's nearly a whisper, but he hears, whipping around to face you. Before you can do anything he's striding forward and wrapping his fierce arms around you. You tense, expecting him to break your ribs, but you relax when the hug is soft.

Your eyes scan the carnage in the room. The chair you'd sat on whilst nursing his injuries is in splinters on the floor. A cabinet looks like a bull ran into it, and there's glass under your shoes.

The bed seems fine at least. Coaxing him gently, you lead him to it and perch on the edge. He sits next to you, not letting you go.

“Eddie what the hell happened?”

Unclenching his grip, he looks at you with tear filled eyes, anguish etched into his very skin. He's trying to form words, you can see it in the way he's concentrating, but they just won't come. Face screwed up, he balls his fist and howls when a claw digs into his own flesh, which only serves to exacerbate the ball of emotion that's fighting his insides.

“It's OK, I'm here, just breathe.”

His maw continues to open and shut, paw gesticulating wildly. You grasp it, being careful of his sharp claws, and try something else.

“Alright, you can't use your words. That's fine, you can just let it out. Just like, awoooo!”

You let out your own mini howl as he stares at you in disbelief.

“Go on, it'll feel good. See? Awwooooo!”

He stares at you with wide eyes, an almost amused look dancing within them.

“See? I feel better. Awwooooo!”

Shaking his large head, he gives you a side glance and tilts his head back to the heavens.

“AARRROOOOOOO!”

It's long and loud, bursting in your ears as a wall of sound.

“Eddie that was awesome,” you gush, hand reaching to wind fingers into his curls.

“Are you OK, I heard- oh.”

Steve bursts in and sees you smiling, Eddie staring at you like a puppy.

“Right, now that's just- what in the- I'll just-”

He leaves looking stunned, never finishing a sentence. A giggle bubbles out of you, a silly little thing that dances in your chest. Eddie reaches to touch your hand in his hair but the claws hit first making you flinch at the sharpness. He looks at you, pained.

“It's alright, you didn't hurt me. At least I can do something about that. Come with me.”

You guide him up and out the room. Steve and Nancy leap off the couch, staring bug eyed, on the cusp of running.

“It's fine, he's just- frustrated. It's a lot to deal with. I'm sure he's very sorry for scaring you, aren't you Eddie?”

The last words are directed at him and he looks down at his feet.

“-Orry.”

“See? If you calm down a little you can speak. We're gonna cut his cla- his nails.”

Steve shakes his head, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but Nancy? Nancy just smiles, looking between the pair of you, like she just heard a secret.

“I think we should go Steve,” she says, holding him by the elbow to guide him towards the door.

“But we- what if he-”

“Steve!”

“Alright, alright! Keep your pants on. I hope you've got food in that big bag of yours, ‘cause he ate three whole rotisserie chickens. Three! Bones and everything.”

“We’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Nancy drags Steve out the door as he's shouting over his shoulder.

“We'll check on you tomorrow!”

“OK!”

The front door shuts and it's silent in the cabin. Coughing awkwardly, you look around the room searching, speaking as you do so.

“Right, so, let's sort out the bedroom first.”

A broom rests against a nearby wall, so you take it and sweep up the glass shards and bits of furniture and dump them outside. It's not perfect but at least you shouldn't cut your feet.

“OK, nail clippers are not going to work. We need something… is there a toolbox or…”

Mumbling away, you finally locate a dusty red snapbox by the back door and extricate a pair of tin snips and a metal file.

“These should do. Sit down Eddie, I'll put the TV on.”

He does as he's told, carefully tucking his tail under as he perches on the couch. It screams with the weight but holds steady.

You get to work, sorting out the claws on his feet before moving to his bearish hands. The TV mutters indistinctly in the background as you clip and file his claws to half their size; as close to his fingers as you dared. When you look up you see Eddie's gaze is transfixed on you. Ignoring the heat of his stare, you finish up, prodding the end of each nail with a finger pad.

“See? No more scratching. Should be able to practise using your hands more too.”

A heat rolls across your face at your own dirty thoughts. If Eddie notices, he doesn't say anything.

“I brought some beers, you want one?”

He can nod and shake his head now without pain, you've seen him moving with ease, but he chooses instead to blink slowly at you. Gasping a little, you get up and fetch the beers from the fridge and hand one over. It's tricky, but he manages to hold it, looking at you for validation.

“See? That's great! You just need practice.”

“Prrractice.”

“Yes! That's really good, Eddie.”

You beam a sunny smile at him but he looks down and away from you.

“What is it?”

Turning back with glassy eyes, he waves a hand at his new form.

“-rreak.”

“Sorry, what?”

“F-rreak.”

“No! No, Eddie, stop,” you respond, holding one huge hand in both of yours, “you're not a freak. You're scared and, and different, and God knows this is a strange situation, but you're not a freak. You were never a freak.”

He brings one burly arm around your shoulders and hugs you tight to his chest. You can feel the pads of his fingers now, stroking at your arm. For some reason, that's what makes you cry. Tears fall unbidden, streaking down your face alarmingly fast. Eddie pulls away to look at you, eyes brimming with concern.

“I'm fine, it's fine. Really. I just- I can feel your fingertips now.”

Eddie flashes the closest thing to a smile his new face can allow and laces his tough, furry fingers with yours. You sit like that for a while, drinking your beers and staring mindlessly at the TV. Eyes beginning to close of their own accord, you realise you need to go to sleep before you pass out.

“I need to sleep Eddie. Hang on, I'm gonna go change.”

You stand up, fishing a tank top and sleep shorts from your bag as well as a toothbrush, and go about getting ready for bed.

When you return, the TV is off, and Eddie's sitting in a pair of plain black boxer shorts that Nancy must have bought him.

“Eddie, do you think you can brush your teeth or do you need a hand?”

He gets up determined and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Trusting he knows what he's doing, you make your way to the spare room. The bed is tiny and there's no duvet or pillow, just a ratty blanket.

Eddie appears in the doorway.

“No.”

“Huh?”

You turn and he waves a hand at the bed almost in disgust. Taking you by the arm, he leads you to the main bedroom.

“You, herrre.”

He turns and the word is out of your mouth before your brain has a chance to wake up.

“Wait!”

As he looks at you expectantly, you blush and stammer over your sentence.

“I mean, that other bed- it's too small for you Eddie, and theres- there's no pillows and-”

Reaching out with a paw-like hand, he settles it on your forearm gently.

“Herrre?”

“Yeah? If you don't mind, of course.”

Without a further word he climbs onto the bed, covering himself with the duvet you'd found in the closet. You shut the light off and get in too, laying at the very edge of the bed, knees dangling over thin air.

Eddie's not having that though. His arm swipes over and pulls you close so fast air leaves your lungs in a gasp. You settle into him, hand laying on his chest, a furry leg underneath your knee.

“Goodnight Eddie.”

“-Night.”

********************

When morning rolls around you find yourself alone in the bed, a cold dip in the mattress next to you. There's noise coming from the kitchen area but it sounds contained; nothing like the sounds you heard when you arrived yesterday.

The bandage and sticks you hastily splinted his arm with are discarded in a pile on the floor. The material looks like it had been ripped apart by sharp teeth.

Padding out of the room on bare feet you see Eddie's back. The fur along his spine is longer and thicker than the rest, and his tail is swishing. It's sticking out of the hole you made in a pair of sweatpants as he wiggles a frying pan.

“Morning Eddie. Your arm healed already?”

He flicks a glance over his shoulder and flashes his canine teeth, waving the arm around to show you.

“-orrning. Bet-terr.”

“Are you making breakfast?”

He points to a plate next to him where a haphazard tower of pancakes sit.

“Prractice.”

You walk over, shivering a little. Someone's going to have to do something about the holes in the ceiling here. Making a mental note to speak with Steve, you cross the room and stand next to Eddie.

“You need any help?”

He shakes his head and gestures to the table.

“Sit. Eat.”

You pick a couple of pancakes up and put them on a small plate and unearth an ancient bottle of maple syrup from a cupboard. The pancakes are surprisingly good; you find a hair in one but don't mention it.

“Eddie, these are delicious! Thank you.”

“You'rre -elcome.”

“And you're speaking so well!”

“Prrractice.”

He sits opposite you with an enormous plate stacked high with pancakes, offering another to you. Taking one more, you place it neatly on your plate.

“Thanks but that's it. I know you need practice but we don't need so many-”

He picks up two and puts them in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing and picking up three more.

“-Oh. We're gonna need more food.”

Eddie nods, finishing the stack of pancakes in less than a minute. When he's done, his thick tongue lulls out to lick his fingers. It's so long, practically wrapping around each individual digit.

Mouth hanging open, you snap it shut and close your eyes for a moment trying to will the hedonistic thoughts you're having to stop swirling around your brain.

When you open them again he's staring at you intensely, a hint of amusement in those soulful eyes.

Looking down to avoid that stare, you ask something that you've been dying to find out.

“Eddie, can I ask- are you still, you, in there? Like completely? Or is it, different?”

He looks away, seemingly thinking. It's a while before he turns back, face contorting with the effort of words.

“Still -e, I think. Head… fog-gy. Hurrts. Prrractice.”

You nod and reach for his hand, proud of him for his longest sentence yet. He holds yours gently; the thumb rubbing back and forth over your knuckles showing much better dexterity than yesterday.

A loud knock at the door startles you both, until you hear Steve's voice ring out.

“It's me, it's Steve! You alive?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and you stifle a giggle.

“No Steve, I died! I was maimed! Blood and guts everywhere!”

You smile as you say it, winking at Eddie. Steve barges in, shaking his head.

“Ha ha, very funny. Excuse me for caring,” he turns to Eddie, voice softer than before, “how you feeling, buddy?”

Eddie flashes his teeth.

“Bet-terr.”

“Good, awesome. Hey, did I miss breakfast?”

“Sure did. Eddie made it.”

“Really?”

Steve looks stunned, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“Yup, he did. All on his own. Actually, while you're here, we need to fix those holes in the roof. At least board them up or something.”

“Yeah sure, I can do that, but I'll need a hand.”

“I… can hel-p.”

The boys get to work and you leave them to it. You busy yourself too; dusting and cleaning the cabin, hanging a sheet up in the bedroom as a makeshift curtain, and making a list of everything you need from the store foodwise. Then, you add even more to it, including four rotisserie chickens.

Whilst food is on your mind, you make a huge pile of sandwiches and call them both in for lunch. Steve looks shocked at the amount of food.

“Woah, don't think we need all-”

Eddie shakes his head and grabs two sandwiches, putting them both in his mouth at once.

“Ah. Right.”

“I think he needs a lot of food because of the injuries. He healed so quickly, I mean, he's got to get the energy from somewhere, right?”

Steve slowly nods, looking at Eddie as he stuffs another sandwich in his mouth.

“Yeah, I guess. Plus, look at the size of him.”

Eddie swallows thickly and stares at the pair of you.

“Can… hearrr you. Rrrude.”

“Sorry, you're right, that was rude of us Eddie.”

You reach a hand out and stroke his arm; his gaze immediately softens.

“Wow, you're like, the Eddie whisperer or some shit.”

Eddie growls in his throat.

“Hey, that wasn't about you it was about her!”

After lunch, they get back to work, completing the patch job on the roof in a few hours. By the time they're done, the sun is starting to set. Steve leaves the pair of you, taking the shopping list and promising he and Nancy will be back tomorrow with fresh supplies. You offer him some money which he swears blind he doesn't need, but you give it to him anyway.

Once dinner is demolished, you and Eddie sit on the couch, watching some made for TV movie. Well, he seems to be watching it. You're uncomfortable, thighs clenching in an effort to put out the raging fire between them. Hyper aware of his arm over your shoulders, you try to block all the horny signals to your brain but it's not working. Huffing loudly, you bite your lip, shuddering at each touch of his gnarled finger pads on the smooth skin of your arm.

“You good?”

You glance up and see Eddie's eyes boring into you.

“Yeah, of course, I'm great.”

“Liarrr.”

Flashing his teeth, he lets out a rough chuckling sound. You press your lips together firmly, refusing to respond.

“You want me. You… want… this.”

He points to his mouth, tongue dipping out past his sharp teeth, far longer than a tongue had any right to be. He twirls it in a little circle and puts the purplish muscle back in his mouth.

“Oh really?” You reply hotly, “and what makes you think that, huh?”

“Can scent.”

“What?”

Wordlessly, he points between your legs. Clenching your thighs harder, you glow scarlet, face igniting with such heat that it almost hurts.

“Eddie, you can't just say that's it- it's impolite!!”

Letting out a little howl of amusement, he strokes up and down your back with his large hand sending shivers through your spine.

He's not wrong. Your panties are clinging to your wet heat uncomfortably, thighs sodden with false anticipation. Your blood is on fire, pumping fast and hard to your aching clit. It's bewildering; you've never felt so needy in all your life. He must be letting out some pheromones or something, brain grasping wildly at straws for an explanation.

“-Orry. Just… you help-ed mme. I can… help you.”

“I don't think- I'm not sure that's a good idea. I mean, your heads all foggy, you said, and, and-”

“Want to.”

He looks entirely serious, meeting your gaze with hardly a blink.

Are you really gonna do this?

Your body is protesting the lack of a decision, pulse thumping hard in your cunt as if to remind you of your predicament. It takes over, urging your hands under your dress to peel off your sticky underwear and put them to one side. Eddie doesn't move, waiting for you to speak, but you can see his pupils are blown, eyes nearly fully black. His snout is snuffling the air, tasting you through his nose.

“Could you… please?”

Tears are stinging your eyes at the discomfort. Eddie blinks once slowly at you, and immediately crouches to his hands and knees on the floor. As he crawls between your thighs, it strikes you that the movement seems more natural than him standing like a person. Gently, he slides your dress up your legs and pushes your legs apart with his giant hands.

You're waiting for the first touch of his tongue, but it doesn't come. First, he smells you, inhaling your cunt so deeply that embarrassment blooms in your chest. The growling, humming noise that emanates from him vibrates into your very bones; it's laced with such desire that your thighs begin to quiver.

Then, he tastes you; tongue lapping at your sex suddenly. You were expecting it, but you weren't expecting the sheer relief that flooded your senses at the first touch of his dripping maw. He slathers it all over you, cleaning your slick from the tops of your thighs, tongue slithering through your folds, around your clit, right down to your ass, as if he can't get enough of the taste of you.

Whining and bucking your hips up already, he growls, holding you open with one brutish hand as the other pushes into the softness of your belly pinning you in place. You can see where his thick blunted claws push at your flesh, leaving dimples on your stomach.

Then his tongue is writhing inside of you, twirling and dancing, hitting spots no other tongue could ever reach. Moans are ripped from your chest, the kind of sounds you would never dare to make before. Pathetic whines, hoarse shouts, screeching cries of pure pleasure. His snout is pressed firmly up against your clit; it's scrunched with the pressure, and each flick of his head makes him nussle it over and over.

Despite Eddie's firm hand holding you down, you still manage to thrash about, legs twitching and back bucking uncontrollably. Your walls are convulsing around his muscle, fluttering with each pulse. He tongue fucks you in earnest then, knowing you're reaching that crescendo as your noises get even louder.

You're beyond words. You couldn't tell him you were about to come if your life depended on it. The only word you can manage is a high pitched squeal of his name as your release floods out of you, slick gushing over his face.

He laps it up, tongue washing over you as you collapse back into the sofa cushions, throat hoarse from yelling. There's an odd, murmuring grunt sound coming from him, the same sound over and over. As your ears finally stop ringing you release he's mumbling a word into you, almost incomprehensible in between licks.

“Mine. Mine, mine… mmmmine.”

Over and over he says it; like a mantra, a prayer to your cunt. Eventually you have to tug him away by his hair to stop him compulsively lapping at you.

He looks up, dazed eyes starting to refocus as he pants like a dog. You pat the fur on his neck over and over, rubbing your fingers through it, your stare desperately trying to tell him what a good job he did.

As he sinks down and sits on the floor, you join him, sliding off the couch and crawling into his lap. He holds you close, nose nuzzling your neck.

“Wan’ kiss you.”

You know what he means. He wants to kiss you properly, like a man and a woman kiss. Not like a beast.

You cradle his head, making your hands appear tiny in comparison, and twist your fingers gently in his fur. Pulling his closed maw toward you, you press your lips against it softly, nudging his nose with yours like he did with your neck. It seems to placate his needs. He keeps his arms in a tight embrace around you as you move your heads as one, nudging your faces together, letting actions speak instead of words.

For the second time in as many days, you wonder what the hell you're getting yourself into.

********************

“Eddie, come try this!”

Calling from the kitchen, you mix batter in a huge bowl, trying to work out if you've used enough sugar. Technically speaking, you're not a chef. Far from it. The last cake you made sank in the middle so much it resembled a sad bundt cake.

“Eddie?”

All you hear is muffled music playing from the bedroom. You go and investigate, spatula in hand, and gently swing the door open.

Eddie's shirtless, his sweats hanging low on his hips, with his guitar slung around his neck. His muscles flex with every strum of his fingers, face screwed in concentration as he attempts to follow along with the tape.

“Eddie?”

Finally he glances up, eyebrows unknitting as he looks at you.

“Wherre you find… the aprrron?”

You'd forgotten about the apron. Glancing down, you see flour dusting it. You brush it off absentmindedly and look back at him.

“Oh, it was in a drawer.”

“Hot.”

You giggle, cheeks flushing.

“What you doing Eddie? Practising?”

He huffs, taking his guitar and laying it gently against the bed.

“Trrrying. Not good enough.”

“Yet.”

Exposing his teeth in a bestial smile, he walks over to you.

“Yet. What you calling forrr?”

He tilts his head, exposing the fuzzy tip of his ear through his hair, rough hand rubbing up your arm.

“Oh, I see. You could hear me, hmm?” You place your hand on your hip dramatically. He nods, crowding over you, making your breath hitch in your throat, as thick furry fingers stroke at your skin.

“Well, I was asking you to try this.”

You tap his nose with the end of the spatula, leaving behind a splat of uncooked cake batter. His maw opens in shock as you laugh.

“Don't… do…”

“What, don't do this?”

You get him again, this time on his cheek, smudging the mixture in the soft fur. He raises an eyebrow at you, face stoic as he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. He'd look intimidating, if it wasn't for the batter dripping off his snout.

“What you gonna do about it, huh?”

He takes a step backward, unfolding his arms, and cracks his neck from side to side. His knuckles are next, popping with the stretch. Then, he starts growling out a low countdown.

“One… two… thrrree…”

“Oh, it's like that is it?”

“...fourrr… five…”

You run out of the room, flinging the spatula onto the kitchen side, and look for somewhere to go, but there isn't anywhere. This place is tiny. Jogging around the couch, you hear Eddie roar like a lion and your pulse quickens. He shoulders nonchalantly out the bedroom, crouching low. Adrenaline hits you as you try to work out how to get past.

Attempting to fake him out, you run one way, then immediately double back, dashing around the back of the couch. Eddie's moves are a blur, husky arm scooping you up by the waist and dragging you over his shoulder in an instant. Kicking and giggling, you bash at his back trying to get him to let go, but you may as well pound on a concrete wall.

There's a sudden rush of air and your back meets the wooden floor, landing with a soft ‘ooft’ noise. He pins you down, powerful legs straddling you, holding both your arms over your head with one brutish hand almost lazily. It easily circles both of your wrists.

Taking his free hand, he scoops the mixture off of his nose and licks it with his tongue, twirling it around until every last bit is gone. You're breathing heavily. That display, teamed with him wrestling you to the ground so easily, has your heart thumping a tattoo inside your chest.

He makes a face, scrunching his snout.

“That bad?”

“I know… what rrrather eat.”

Flashing his pointed teeth, he runs his tongue over them, looking at you like you're his favourite meal. He leans in close, hot breath fanning your face.

“You like this.”

“No.” You say, even though you're trembling and hot all over.

“Liarrr.” He says it whilst tapping his nose.

He pushes his body against yours so you can feel his solid bulge pressing up against your core. Nothing can stop the whimper that gurgles out your throat, no matter how much you bite your lip.

A warm hand paws at your breast over the apron as his tongue dances across the shell of your ear. Pushing upward with your hips, you make a futile attempt at escaping. Not that you want to, but the game is just getting good. He growls in your ear and the sound shoots straight to your cunt…

Then the front door flies open.

“So we got- Jesus Eddie, no! Get the hell off her!”

Steve drops paper bags on the floor as you both turn your heads to face him. Nancy's running in beside him trying to drag him backwards by the elbow.

“Steve, I don't think-”

“It's not what it looks like!” You stammer it out as Steve gawps.

“What- what's going on!”

Nancy turns him so he has to look at her, talking to him like a child.

“Steve, when a man and a woman like each other very much-”

His face immediately starts glowing scarlet. Eddie clambers off you and holds one hand out to lift you off the floor, hunching awkwardly to try and hide his erection as he takes refuge behind the couch.

“Seriously? Him? He's- he's-”

He gestures widely at Eddie. You hear a snarling coming from behind you so you hold a hand out to calm him, fingers meeting soft fur. Your eyes harden as you stare sternly at Steve.

“He's Eddie. He's just Eddie. He might look different but he's still here, and you're being… rude.”

“You're right, I'm sorry,” he looks over to Eddie sheepishly, “sorry Munson, I didn't mean-”

“Don't worrry, I… underrrstan’. Harrrd to rremem-berrr… even forrr mme.”

Steve looks surprised at how much his speech has come on, but he doesn't mention it. Instead, he holds out a hand, taking Eddie's giant one in his own and shaking it.

“Listen, I got what you asked for, it should be all here. If you're both alright, we'll get out of your fur- shit- hair! Out of your hair!”

Eddie snickers low in his throat as Steve tries to hide his face from his own faux pas.

After packing the food away, and a couple of hugs and goodbyes, they leave you it. Nancy promises they'll be back in a couple of days to check in, and that they'll knock first.

Once you're both alone you breathe a sigh of relief, turning to Eddie.

“I'm sorry about him.”

Eddie looks down, clutching the back of the couch.

“I'm s-orry. Should have… ask-ed you out beforrre… this.”

You round the couch and grasp his bicep in your hands, staring at his side profile.

“Hey, hey, you didn't know this was gonna happen. How could you ask me out? It's not like you even noticed me really before, right?”

Eddie refuses to meet your gaze. His eyelashes are dipping down, nearly kissing his cheeks.

“Eddie?”

He rumbles a sound out, shaking his head, making his hair ripple about his shoulders.

“I… lik-ed you. Wan-ted you. Was… scarrred. You werrre.. arrre… too good forrr mme.”

An ache settles in your chest at his words, face creasing with anguish.

“Oh... Oh, Eddie, don't do that. I'm here now. And I'm not too good, that's just not true.”

Your fingers wind into his fur, trying to tug him around but it's no use. You can see the tension in his arm underneath.

So, if that isn't working, you'll try something else.

“Seems I won.”

His head turns quickly then, staring at you, muzzle wrinkled in confusion.

“Our little chase?”

You wipe the remnants of cake batter off of his cheek with two fingers. He watches you intently as you bring them to your mouth, pushing them deep inside and hollowing your cheeks. Eddie grunts, maw extending open slightly as he swallows thickly in his throat. You suck hard, and pull your fingers out, running the flat of your tongue up and around them, leaving a string of spit behind.

“I think you're right, that doesn't taste good.”

Eddie's staring at you, eyes nearly black as his tongue lulls from his mouth, panting.

“So, I won. I got free, didn't I?”

Eddie's ribs are rising and falling distinctly. He steps toward you, the back of his hand dragging its coarse knuckles over your cheek.

“Don't count… Caught you.”

“Yeah? And I got free! So I win, right? Unless you don't think that's fair?”

Snout nuzzling at your hairline, he breathes in your scent deeply and cups your face, pulling it towards his. You kiss his mouth gently, crushing soft lips against his hard jaw. He pushes his maw against you, opening his mouth and snaking his tongue between your lips.

It's messy, tongues licking each other as spit pools and drips down your chin. His burly hand rests on the back of your head, covering it completely, forcing you to stay in place, while the other reaches down to grasp at the flesh of your ass.

When you break away, you're both panting, breathing laboured and ragged.

“Woah. Fuck,” you huff out between hard exhales, “you can kiss.”

“Interrrrup-ted.”

“Huh?”

You're dizzy from the kiss, lips red and swollen, still slightly parted as his fingers trace down your back.

“We werre… interrrup-ted. Don't count.”

“Ah, I see. So what do you-”

“One. Two… thrrree…”

This time you fly from his grip and race out the room, considering the bathroom for a second before you dive wildly into the main bedroom. Eyes scanning as quickly as you can, you see a trap door at the foot of the bed.

It swings open when you pull the rusted metal ring and you stick your head inside. It's little more than a crawl space, full of cobwebs and mouldy boxes. You scrabble inside and snap the trap door shut just as you hear a bellowing roar from the other room.

He won't actually be expecting you to hide, and you're rather pleased with yourself at the spot you'd managed to find, laying on your back wedged in the stuffy space.

The door swings open and you will your heart to slow down. Surely he can hear it hammering from here? It's thumping loudly in your own ears, blood whooshing through your head.

The floorboards creak with each step he takes. When he falls to the ground suddenly, crawling on all fours, your thighs clench.

“Sweet-hearrrt…I know you’rrre herrre… can smell you…”

His sing-song tone, along with the growling purr of his voice had you biting your lip so hard you could taste tin.

You follow the shadow of his form through the slats, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. Suddenly his massive furred arm swipes under the bed, catching nothing but air. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle.

He goes entirely still, pressing his snout to the floor, and sniffs between the floorboards. You can see his nose twitching just above your head.

“Arrre you… in the crrrawlspace?”

He sounds impressed, finding the trap door only a second later. Light floods your hiding place as you try to wriggle your body away from him, but there's no room. In an instant he's got your ankles in his clutches as you shriek in protest, pulling you from the gap below.

In seconds he scoops you up and hurls you on the bed as if you weigh nothing at all, then jumps on top of you, pinning you down as the bed springs squeak dramatically.

“Cleverrr… but can't hide from mme…” He purrs, and leans closer to your ear, voice a deeper, threatening growl.

“I can smell yourrr cunt.”

You take a sharp inhale at his words. As if your pussy could understand him, you feel squelching wetness seep out, aching to be touched.

Eddie sits up, straddling you, and rips your apron and top in half as easily as tissue paper, exposing bare flesh. Greedily, he lathes his tongue from the nape of your neck down to your breasts, swirling it around each nipple leaving a trail of spit in its wake.

Your skin itches, flashing red hot, the throbbing between your legs becoming unbearable. You're whimpering, close to tears with the sheer need for him.

“Eddie, Eddie please.”

Wasting no time he climbs off the bed and yanks your jeans off in one go, not bothering to even unzip them, and does the same with his sweats. Standing fully to attention, his monstrous length looks painfully hard, throbbing purple.

You hook fingers into the waistband of your panties to take them off, but Eddie slaps your hand away, and leans down, hot breath dancing over the skin of your thighs. Sharp teeth graze your abdomen, not enough to cut your skin but enough to leave angry red marks in a pathway to your sex.

Then he's gripping your underwear in his teeth and ripping the flimsy lace off, leaving it in shreds. The feral gesture has you groaning out loud, thighs immediately opening to him. A thick tongue slivers through your folds, tasting you, until he presses a clawed finger to your opening, thrusting it inside with no warning.

“Fuck, that- that feels so good!”

Just like when he went down on you, that familiar rush of relief at his ministrations pours over you, nearly bringing you to tears. He moves up the bed, other arm holding him steady above your head so he can crowd your senses, intently watching your face as he fucks you with his finger.

He forces another finger in making you cry out, small hand gripping at his forearm to try and slow him down, but his movements are unrelenting.

“Eddie, too much, please-”

He growls, the sound making you clench even more around him as he curls his fingers, keeping them painfully deep inside.

“Have to. You need… to take me… prrrincess.”

You nod your understanding as you wince at the stretch, but the discomfort melts away as your release slinks up your spine, heat pooling in your belly making you moan and push back into his grip. His rough palm presses harshly into your clit, thick skin slipping against the silken nub.

“See… goood girrrrl.”

You clutch at his fur as your orgasm expels from your body, throwing your head back into the mattress as your cunt gushes around his grip violently. He purrs his satisfaction in your ear and pulls his fingers from you. Rubbing them over his pulsating shaft, he spreads your slick and holds his girth by the base.

“Eddie, I-I'm ready, I need you.”

Grunting at your words, he forces the swollen head into your soaked folds. Your eyes snap tightly shut as you cling desperately to muscle and fur. Seemingly unable to control himself, he thrusts his whole length straight into you, tilting his head back and roaring so loud that dust falls from the ceiling.

You're expecting blinding pain at the enormity of his length but it doesn't come. Instead, that first thrust pulls a second orgasm from you, one so profound that it fizzes through your every nerve and leaves spots in your vision. The blazing heat of your skin subsides as you throb around him, your prior discomfort melting away entirely. The same sureness that settled in your gut when you arrived is back. This is where you're supposed to be.

No words come from Eddie, just forceful thrusts and throaty noises as he fucks into you like an animal. He's on his hands and knees, one arm dipping into the small of your back, holding you firmly against him as he forcefully humps into you, using you. The slick sounds of your conjuncture echo through the cabin; all wet sucking noises, gravelly growls and high pitched moans.

Suddenly he snarls, teeth exposed, and grabs you by the hips, flinging you to the floor on your front. Your breath leaves you in shock, wooden boards rough against your naked skin. Yanking your ass in the air by the flesh of your hips he forces his throbbing member back inside, fucking into you so harshly that it's hard to stay upright. You're slipping forward with each piston of his hips, arms trembling with effort.

Eddie's panting, pools of drool gathering at the base of your neck, mixing and mingling with your sweat. A sharp pain cuts through all the pleasure, ripping into the meat of your shoulder, causing you to scream and tense up, pussy fluttering pathetically around him. It pushes you over that precipice once again, the hurt and the bliss intertwining into a mass of feeling, tangled and twisted, unable to exist without the other.

His member swells, growing impossibly, and a bulbous growth locks in you as he releases with a desperate broken howl. You feel the pumping of his cum deep inside, coating your trembling walls, claiming you.

A minute or so later he's collapsing to the side, pulling you close with his bearish arm, still firmly buried inside your cunt. Time seems to stop as you both pant, gasping for air, tangled in his furry embrace. As his breathing finally slows, he manages to purr one word in your ear.

“Mine.”

Part 2

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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year

Text

!this is a repost because something was wrong with the original!

Thank you so much! I had a lot of fun with this. Already looking forward to all the other imagines lined up 🥰

Secret Relationship (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Female!Avenger!Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: fluffy af, little angst

Your eyes stared over the coffee mug at him from across the room. He was stealing glances over to the kitchen in which you sat as Sam and Tony tried to convince him to meet the smoking hot yoga teacher bachelorette the two of them had found for him this week.

You felt a little bad for him, to be honest. Bucky seemed exhausted from their constant nagging. It was weird to see the two men together like this. Normally, Tony and Sam would just pass in the hallway with subtle nods. But when it came to finding a woman for Bucky, the two could be mistaken for best friends.

“Her name is Ronda and she is hot.”

“Mhm. Gives hot yoga a whole new meaning.”

“That’s right. And she’s willing to meet you!”

“Well, I’m not willing.”

“Why are you always like this, Bucky? We go out and we find you a nice girl and you decline every time.”

“Maybe he’s like this because Dr. No over here isn’t getting laid. Which is why you should go on this date.”

“I don’t need to get laid to be in a good mood, Tony.”

“We don’t know that. You’re always grumpy and you’re most certainly not getting laid. Doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.”

“Oh, that definitely isn’t a coincidence.”

“I’m a scientist I know that stuff.”

“Yeah, he’s a scientist. Listen to him.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

But Bucky was panicking, you could see it in his eyes. He wanted to say it, that he didn’t want to go on dates because was already dating you. But you had forbidden him from doing so. It was better this way, and he had not spoken up when you suggested keeping your relationship a secret for now.

With a small smirk, you got off your chair.

“Have you two geniuses ever thought about your annoying banter being the reason for his bad mood?” You sauntered past the men with your mug still in hand, the other slightly grazing Bucky’s back on your way to the door. You could feel his muscles relax just from the small touch.

“How are we being annoying? We are literally helping him get some.”

“I don’t need to get any!”

That was the last thing you heard Bucky shout frustratedly when you entered the hallway, a small chuckle leaving your lips before you went to your room to finish the report you had yet to hand in.

-❁-

It wasn’t long before Bucky entered your room with an exhausted sigh. He leaned against the closed door when you looked up and then proceeded to approach you at your desk, where he leaned over your shoulder, arms caging you to his chest and chin nuzzling in your neck.

“They’re the worst,” he mumbled into your sweater before placing small kisses along your neck.

“I know, baby.” You stroked his arms. “For the geniuses, they claim to be, they’re really hardheaded.”

“I feel like it’s just me they’re bothering with this. For all they know, you are single too.”

Another pang went through your chest. Bucky had not been part of the team for long. And you had spared him all of the details about most members that Steve hadn’t already told him about.

There was a reason why Tony and Sam didn’t suggest eligible partners to you, and that was because you had multiple suitors amongst the team and beyond already. If you wanted to have someone, they just assumed you would get them. Not to mention the total embarrassment they had witnessed when you had rejected Pietro in front of the team during movie night. You hadn’t meant to, but he had sprung it upon you without warning, and you hadn’t wanted to lead him on.

Then there was Peter, the intern, that harbored a silly schoolboy crush on you since he had gotten his first action figure of you, and letting him down gently was harder than you had thought. Tony and Sam, especially, had gotten amusement from the frequent serenades and suggestive fan mail you received. They even suggested an “open mail + wine night” for their personal entertainment one time. And, well, you didn’t say no to wine and gossip.

But despite all this, it wasn’t the reason why you wanted to keep your relationship a secret. Bucky had been closed up from the very first time Steve introduced him to the team. It had taken two months for him to reply to simple questions such as if he wanted coffee, too. But somehow, you had the honor of being the first person he trusted after Steve. And once you had gotten to know him better, he was the sweetest person ever. Caring, funny, charming - very touchy. But you were scared this would go away once everyone started teasing him about it. So yes, it might have been to protect Bucky, but it felt more and more like personal gain to you.

“I want you to know that I don’t need Yoga Brenda, or Coffeeshop Mandy, or anyone else. I just wanna tell them that I’m already dating the most gorgeous woman they could ever find.”

“You are wonderful, do you know that?” Your head leaned against his shoulder when you felt Bucky smile into the crook of your neck. “And I guess I could deal with a little more PDA - warm the team up to it slowly.”

“Sounds like a great plan.” And with that Bucky turned your chair and pulled you up and towards the bed. “Until then,” he patted his lap once he sat down, “I demand a kiss for every time I had to vouch for us.”

You smirked before straddling him. “Oh, I’ll gladly pay up, then.”

-❁-

You knew Bucky was touchy, but now that he had permission to do so outside your rooms, it lit a whole new fire within you. You couldn’t reach the cupboard? He would press up against you with a hand on your hip and get whatever item you needed. You walked through a door? You bet he would hold that thing open until you were all the way through.

But those were just the, in his way, subtle approaches for when everyone was around. When the two of you happened to catch a quiet moment, he wouldn’t hesitate to hug and kiss you in every common area of the compound.

You didn’t mind it too much - Bucky was a great lover all around. But you were still a little nervous as to what the team’s reaction would be. You had already gotten glimpses of it. A raised brow from Natasha, who really was just surprised it had gone past her for so long. A double take from Pietro when Bucky brushed an eyelash from your face. And a knowing smile from Wanda, who to be honest, had probably known all along - your thoughts weren’t exactly subtle... or PG.

Though you had yet to see Sam or Tony react to the increase in affection Bucky gave you. It wasn’t unusual that he asked you to train or make a joke - you were friends in everyone’s eyes. But it would become obvious if he kept up the thing he was doing right now.

Bucky had just swiped some chocolate from your face in the kitchen, and when Clint had left the room, Bucky’s hand just lingered on your face. You were staring at him. And every time those eyes gazed into yours, it was hard to remember that there was a world around you.

“I like this,” Bucky smirked when his thumb grazed over your cheek. His mouth followed shortly and soon he was stealing pecks from your soft lips.

“It is very nice,” you admitted flustered from the kisses, your hands now grabbing at his shirt.

“See, it’s not so bad.”

You just hummed in response when Bucky patted your ass affectionately.

“Ahhh! What did I just see?” Sam’s eyes were wide, his head immediately snapping to Tony. You just sighed as you leaned against Bucky’s chest. It had to happen sooner or later...

“Holy smokes, Barnes. Had we known you got Miss Unattainable, we would have shut up a long time ago.” Tony whistled in acknowledgment before he approached the fridge and retrieved a water bottle.

Bucky just looked at you with a lazy smile, his hands rubbing up and down your back. It was nice not to hide anymore.

“What can I say?” He was looking into your eyes when he spoke. “She likes to keep me to herself.” And when you responded with a smile, he leaned in and kissed you shamelessly.

“Geez, get a room,” you heard Sam mumble gruffly.

But all you could do was giggle as Bucky hid his smile in the crook of your neck, his scruff tickling your skin and the weight of the secret falling from your shoulders.

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「✰」 ━━ CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE CHARACTER FAMILY OUTLINES

RATING PG-13 - Parents strongly cautioned [ Content warnings : references to sex, references to breeding kinks, heavy fluff, children, both pregnancy and adoption scenarios, toxic family relationship dynamics, minimal cursing, brief mention of Ghost and Farah's traumas, brief mention of transphobia and homophobia ]

SYNOPSIS In my opinion, what having a family with an assortment of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare characters would look like, be it how many kids they would have, their reasonings for having kids, their relationships with their kids, et cetera.

WORD COUNT 6.8k

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

Three sons and one daughter - ages ten, seven, five, and one

I'm certain we're all more than aware of this man's painfully obvious and present breeding kink, so it's no surprise to anyone that he would want to have a lot of children to call his own. He won't just be satisfied with one or two children - he's always wanted to have a full, bustling home, and he'll be damned if he doesn't try to make that a reality.

Every child of his is planned, both in pregnancy and adoption scenarios. He meticulously calculates and works to space each child out a certain range and number of years apart from one another in an effort to give himself extended experience with each developmental stage - or so he claims.

He wanted kids of his own, he decided, the second he met you, and he just hopes and prays that you'll be open to the concept of having quite a number of them. And, in his favor, you do and indulge him in his little fantasies.

And, in the ingenious words of @ghostlywhiskey , "i said that man has SWIMMERS AND THOSE MFS ARE PRICE BOYS". So, there's a very obvious patten that begins to form as more and more members are added to his little family. But, of course, there's one token daughter added into the mix, who he loves all the same as he does his boys.

In my eyes, the ideal father figure. He's extremely open and honest with his children, listens and talks with them whenever they have an issue or question, is very understanding and accepting overall, and, more than anything, works tirelessly to be a present, positive figure in their lives.

Because of all of the experience that he has with his own children, this results in the members of Task Force 141 and associated parties going to him for help or to have him answer questions they may have around their own children.

He tries to be as present of a father as he can be, given the challenges and distance that comes with his line of work, but always makes an effort, at the very least, call his kids whenever he can to ask about how they're doing, what they're up to, et cetera.

Refuses to talk about his job or entertain his children in the very idea of joining the military - the horrors he's seen is not in the slightest something he wants his children to witness for themselves. He knows the job best, and he will not allow any of his children to join.

Raises his sons right - they're respectful, mind their manners, don't start fights (but finish them, should the need arise) and instills all the necessary core morals and values they'll need to be good people when they grow up. All the same, he teaches his daughter not to take shit from anyone.

LIEUTENANT SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

Three daughters and one child (non-binary) - ages ten, six, three, and nine

Originally, he had never even spent a moment in time thinking about or entertaining the possibility of him having children, much less actively putting effort into reaching that goal. Especially when considering his own history, he can't even begin to see himself as a father, fearing he'll end up like his own.

So, when you get pregnant for the first time on complete accident/enthusiastically bring up the idea to him of adopting a child seemingly out of nowhere to him, he's completely shell-shocked. This is something he's ever put considerable thought into, and now it's being dropped into his lap without a moment to process it or breathe.

So, when he lays eyes on his first little girl for the first time, he's terrified. He's a dad now, whether he wants to or is ready for it or not. And no, it's not like he didn't tell you to get an abortion/refuse to sign the papers, but he isn't fully ready for such a heavy responsibility yet. But when he has her in his arms for the first time, he's done for.

After the first, he's so open and willing - and, quite frankly, pushing for - trying for/adopting another child. Yes, he was scared for his life to become a dad at first, but now that he's one now, he can't help but want another - and best you believe that his children are his absolute world.

Curse of the military. That's it, that's the tweet. He had all girls, plus, of course, his one gender non-conforming, non-binary kid, and all of them have equal ownership over his heart.

He's the perfect girl-dad, letting them do whatever they want with him - their own personal dress-up doll, if you will. Painting his nails, putting make-up on him, styling his hair, making him attend tea-parties and playing make-pretend. Whatever they want him to do, he does it.

When his second-oldest comes out to him (they came to him first before they did you), his heart absolutely melts. To know that his kid trusts him so wholeheartedly and isn't scared to share such a private thing with him lets him know just how good of a dad he is.

He's quick to use the right pronouns, allocates a separate room for them, helps them go shopping for clothes and items they may want, tests out new names for them should they want to, et cetera.

He's not at all a strict parent, as much as one might believe. He's stoic, cold, and cruel, sure - but that's to everyone but his family. For them? He's the biggest pushover in the world. If his children want anything, best believe he's doing everything in his power to fulfill their wishes.

SERGEANT JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH

One son and one daughter - ages four and five

He's always wanted children, that mindset and dream having been set long before he ever even joined the military in the first place. He used to take care of and watch his nieces, nephews, and younger cousins a lot when he was younger, so it eventually evolved into him wanting little rascals of his own as time went on - to be able to nurture, care for, and have fun with.

So, when the opportunity arises to actually start a family of his own, something that he's always dreamed of, he's so giddy. In complete honesty, he's practically beaming and bouncing on the balls of his feet, so willing and ready to make this into a reality. He has his own fears and anxieties, yes, but his excitement far outweighs it.

Both of his children are planned, of course, wanting them to be close in age as he can get them, and he's ecstatic that he gets to have both a boy and a girl. He gets the best of both worlds that way! And, when he finally gets to hold each in his arms for the first time, his heart shatters, melts, and crumbles in the best ways possible.

He isn't just a solider, a boyfriend, or a husband anymore - he's a dad now.

He's such a fun dad in general, always joking around with his kids, letting them - safely - do things that they aren't supposed to do, messing with them, taking them out for desert and sweets, et cetera.

But, as much as he's the "fun dad", that doesn't mean that he's any less strict. If his kids mess up or do something bad, he's often the one responsible for determining punishment, telling them off, and teaching them not to make the same mistake again.

His work is demanding, yes, and that often takes him away from you, his partner, and his kids for long periods of time, but he always comes back, ready to be a dad again and put "Soap" on the backburner.

The perfect role model for his kids, in all honesty - the best combination between a best friend and a parental figure. His kids tell him everything and they aren't scared of him to keep secrets from him, always telling him the truth without shame or hesitation.

SERGEANT KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK

One son and one daughter - ages seven

Both of children are twins

Having children wasn't something he had ever planned for, in his mind. Not to say that he never entertained the idea of having children of his own, nor is it to say something that he's against, either. He simply hadn't ever thought about making it a reality before.

But, when the opportunity to have/adopt children comes up into his life, it's welcomed, allowing himself to go with the flow of things and let them play out as is. He thinks about it a lot more now, daydreaming about what his child's personality will be like, what they'll look like, who they'll like more...

And then boom! Twins!

He's starstruck when he first gets the news that he'll be having/adopting twins. It's like a two-for-one deal, or so he says, genuinely shocked and excited at the same time. The way he sees it, his kids will always have a best friend (or, a partner-in-crime) and he's all for it.

Twins are a lot, he knows, but that doesn't mean he isn't up for the challenge. If anything, it only spurs him on to push to be the best dad he could ever possibly be.

For better or for worse, his kids adopt his sarcastic nature as their own and increase it by tenfold. It's his fault, given that whenever his kids are around, he's talking to them as if they'd understand his points and smart comments. They don't, most of the time, but they know their dad's tone, and they're quick to match it.

Takes the most time off out of anyone else in Task Force 141 to spend with his family if and when he can allocate it. He wants to be as present of a dad as possible, and if that means taking work home when he could easily finish it on base and then come home, maybe a day or two later, he's doing it.

Very adamant on having days out with his kids, be it for the purpose of a mental health day or just for fun. Takes them out to get breakfast and lunch, plus going to do another activity. Maybe the park, the playground, watch a movie at the cinema, go to the zoo/aquarium, et cetera.

He's not a super strict parent but that doesn't mean he isn't going to disciple his children if they misbehave or do something wrong. His punishments are lax, focused more towards talking out the issue that giving harsh lessons.

STATION CHIEF KATE LASWELL

One son - aged sixteen

She and her wife decided that they really wanted to have a kid of their own a few years into their marriage and, especially given that neither of them aren't getting any younger and didn't necessarily have the energy, time, or willingness to take on the challenge of pregnancy for themselves, they choose the more sensible option available and adopt.

It's a long, deliberate process that they have to go through in order to be so much as be approved for being able to adopt, but, once that hurdle is overcome, the two of them waste no time and immediately begin their search for the newest member of their own little family, allocating time to meticulously decide who they'll, inevitably, choose.

Their hearts end up settling on a little boy whose four years old, somehow resembling the both of them in different ways - be it personality wise or by appearance.

The two of them decide that they want to be able to escape and skip the issues that come packaged with newborns and toddlers, but also have a hand in the development process of their son, thus explaining the age they chose to adopt him at. This accomplishes both of these "goals" they have in mind, and it works out beautifully in their favor.

No matter their son's ethnic background, the two of them make a conscious effort to try and introduce practices, traditions, holidays, ideals, et cetera from their son's culture into their own as a means to keep him connected with his own past and history.

Although her job is connected with the military and does, to an extent, seperate her from her families for periods of time, that doesn't diminish the relationship she has with her son. He's fascinated with his mom's career, allowing for lengthy, in-depth discussion about what her job actually entails with him.

She and her wife are such good moms in general - always supporting him in everything he wants to do and encouraging him a thousand times over. There isn't a second in his life where he isn't being supported or loved, but it by his moms or the numerous different adult figures in his life.

Laswell gets in a fair bit of trouble with her wife for not disciplining her son in any way, shape, or form. She may have no issue with doing so with the military individuals she works with - she can be scary and intimidating when she wants to be - but with her son? She's absolutely a pushover.

Quits smoking the second she and her wife make plans towards actually adopting. It's a harsh line she draws, and one she abides by without hesitation or question.

VALERIA GARZA

None

Now, this isn't because I want to exclude her from this concept for any reasoning whatsoever, but rather because I can't really see her having or wanting any children in the first place. She's "El Sin Nombre", after all. And, in her defense, the cartel isn't necessarily the best enviroment for a child to grow up or develop in - surprising nobody.

She knows this fact better than anyone, and, having sworn her life to her role in Las Almas and the cartel, she chooses to not have any children. Additionally, she isn't going to be irresponsible and make herself vulnerable like that where, to have someone to love and care fore, only for the possibility of them being used as leverage against her later on hanging over her head, putting them in danger.

And, in any case, she has a breeding kink to make up for it, eh?

But, in all seriousness, as wonderful as I think she could possibly be with children in general, I doubt she plans on having or adopting children of her own unless she actually makes the move to leave the business of the cartel altogether - which, lets face it, with who she is and the role that she plays, is highly unlikely.

To make up for this, let's talk about her relationship with kids in general - be it the children of Las Almas and nieces and nephews that she has and interacts with.

She fits the "cool aunt" persona to a tee, always bringing gifts and/or cash to her younger family members, getting them whichever they desire, playing games with them, talking shit about people and listening to them vent, et cetera.

If the children have a problem with someone and, if aren't family, she has no issue doing something about it, be it using a scare tactic on them or completely removing the other person from the equation in more serious scenarios.

All the kids love her, no matter if they're family or if they know her or not. If she isn't busy and one of her men have a child of their own that they need to tend to while they're on the clock, she'll let the kid stay around in her office, so long as they don't disturb the peace.

VLADIMIR MAKAROV

One son and one daughter - ages eleven and five

Now, as cold, cruel, stoic, and heartless of a character that Makarov is, I personally believe that there would be select factors that would influence him to actually want children. Technical, albeit, and not for the sake of having someone to nurture and care for - at least, in the beginning - but I do believe that, for his own reasons, he would still want children as he progresses on later in his career and plans.

The only reason I could ever see for him to so much as bring up the concept of having children, in a way that makes sense when considering his character, would be due to the result of a close encounter that has him just barely scraping out of whatever altercation with his life to spare and hold onto.

He decides then and there that he wants to have a child - a son, specifically - who will be able to take his place and lead the groups that he controls and reigns over when he, inevitably, passes because, like he stated: "even I'm replaceable". It's a morbid phrase, yes, but it makes sense for him to have this be his reasoning.

He wants his replacement to be his own, too, and not for one of men to simply be promoted after he passes. After all, their ideologies, morals, and values could change over time and alter from his own, and he can't have that. However, if he were to have a child, he could foster and tailor their beliefs to match his own.

And besides, there's a certain charm that comes with saying his son is going to be the next in line. So, to his favor, he gets a first-born son, just as he had wished. His daughter, however, is completely accidental and unplanned/an abrupt decision when she is born/adopted. (In the context of pregnancy, though, its entirely his fault that she's conceived out of nowhere - wear protection, folks.)

For the longest time, his relationship with his son is, for lack of better wording, toxic - but this does change! If only with your intervention. All he wants in the beginning is for his son to be able to take over for him in the future - that being his sole purpose. And, unfortunately, he makes that a known fact.

Brings his son in with him to work on base often, working to teach and show to him the empire that he'll be taking over once his dad is gone. He gets a front-row view to the horrors his father is behind and in control of, be it the planning process for strategized and organized attacks, his cruel methods for dealing with traitors, and otherwise.

As much as he might, at heart, want to be a boy-dad, his relationship with his son is so strained and, frankly, falling apart, even if he refuses to acknowledge it, and so toxic in nature that it's only natural he becomes a girl-dad when his daughter is finally born. It's unfair, yes, but it's the truth of the matter.

He keeps his daughter far away from his work, shielding her completely from the badness of the world - the badness that he himself helps to create. She's his his pride and joy, and she's such a daddy's girl, leaving his son to fall to you, his other parental figure, for comfort and support - that of which his dad fails to provide.

COLONEL KÖNIG

Four daughters - ages two, three, seven, and fourteen

Interestingly enough, he's actually always quietly desired and yearned for a family of his own, though, he's never had any open discussions about it until it came to you. It's almost funny, the way that he's so awkward and tends to shy away from others any chance he's allowed to, and yet, he wants nothing more than a sizeable family for himself.

To have someone to fight for, to come back home to... it's all a soldier ever wants - himself included. And, for him, that includes a family that doesn't just consist of him and you (as content and happy as he is with it for now). The mere prospect of coming home to children of his own who can greet him and adore him is all he could ever ask for.

Though, even given this, he's especially nervous to actually become a father. He overthinks it a lot, wondering if his kids will even like him, going over the multitude of different ways that he could mess up even when he has no reason to. Because after his first, that fear melts away into enthusiasm.

Four children, especially when they're all girls, is a lot, yes, but he handles it with ease. He doesn't let the stress of it get to him, simply taking everything in stride and dealing with it rationally. He wants to preserve the positive relationship he has with his daughters, and approaching things from a logical standpoint is just the way to do it.

The true curse of the military - all girls, and so many of them, too. His younger children are all girly to an extent, too, so he's no stranger at a tea party and getting his make-up and nails done messily by his daughters. His oldest, although she may not be as girly, still has her moments, be it certain musicians maybe that she's forced her dad to listen to the entire discography of.

His girls love use him as a prop and character in their bouts of playing "make pretend". He's played a tree, standing still for them to climb all over, a dragon, protecting them from all of the bugs and critters that threatens to offend the, and even a race car, holding onto one or two of them as tight as he can and breaking into a sprint. It's strange and exhausting, sure, but he loves it.

Teaches his daughters to stick up for themselves - it's one of the first lessons he ever teaches them. Whether it be in terms of don't let people see you as a pushover, don't let anyone tell you what you can or cannot do, or stick up for yourself by any means necessary, he instills those ideals into his kids. Teaches his eldest how to fight, too - per her request - as another measure and precaution.

Although being apart of KorTac and being a colonel in general keep him busy and occupied and away from his family, that doesn't stop him from trying his hardest to be with them. He sends each and every one of his daughters, with the inclusion of yourself, gifts he picks up while he's away that reminds him of you all, just as a means to remind you all that he's here and he loves you.

COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES

Two daughters and two children (transgender) - ages seventeen, six, and thirteen

Both of his trans children, female-to-male, are twins

In his daydreams, he's always imagined himself with a family of his own. A nuclear family, the American ideal - married with two and a half kids, a dog, a big house with a white-picket fence, a stable job. The whole lot. That's all he's ever had in mind for himself and he yearns to make it a reality.

So, when the topic of children come up after the married, dog, house, and job things are already figured out, he's eager to speak his mind and give his input on the matter. He's got the biggest, most lopsided grin spread out across his face when he lays eyes on his eldest daughter for the first time, and that only solidifies his dreams.

Though, ironically enough, he always had in his mind that he'd have more boys than girls. He loves his daughters wholeheartedly and without shame, mind you, but... still, the sentiment remains. He always imagined himself with one, maybe two or three boys - someone he could play catch or watch sports with.

He doesn't get that, until he does, and his twins come out to him (albeit, at separate ages) as trans ftm. Of course, the whole "trans" thing is new to him, and while he may be a little clueless, seeing how happy it makes the two of his kids is more than enough to convince him him to put in effort and be the most supportive dad he can be.

I don't want anyone coming to me saying "oh, he's transphobic" because no he's not. He may fit that all-American persona of his to a tee, but I refuse to say that he would go as far to be transphobic or homophobic, especially with his own children. (Also, I'm petty, so you get two of them).

He fights and works hard to be present in his children's lives. He may be the Commander and CEO of Shadow Company, but that doesn't mean his men can't function without him from time to time. His family means everything to him, all of his time off being spent towards treating them.

Not the parent who pushes for his children to each be involved in a million after-school activities, but encourages them to take up something. His oldest plays volleyball, his second-oldest plays baseball, his second-youngest plays the drums, and his youngest dances. Takes them all to practice and helps them however he can.

Genuinely just copy and paste Jeff Sadecki from Yellowjackets and that's him as a parent. Except... with less of the drama. He's dedicated to being involved in his children's lives, making memories and having fun with them, telling horrible dad jokes from time to time, and whatever else.

SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO "RUDY" PARRA

One child (agender) - aged sixteen

He never actually planned on or anticipated becoming a father in the first place, more focused on dedicating his efforts towards his career and not spending more than a passing thought on creating a family. Not to say that he doesn't want one, it's just a concept he hasn't spent too much time thinking about or worrying over.

So, this means that you have to be the one to bring it up to him. And, granted, it somewhat catches him off guard - you want to try for a baby/consider adoption with him? Since when? It throws him off, to be honest, and he genuinely has to take some time to reflect and decide if this is actually something that he wants.

And, in your favor, it is.

He's somewhat nonchalant about the whole thing, not really realizing how big of an event it is until you're close to the due date/you're approved for adoption. And then it hits him full force that, yeah - sooner than later, he's actually going to become a dad and deal with the responsibilities of one and have a child of his own.

It's humbling, funnily enough, and he revaluates his priorities when it comes to his career, you, and child-to-be.

Even though he never anticipated or saw himself as someone who could accurately fill the role of a father, he's a good one. More akin to a close friend at times whereas others he can more accurately be described as a mentor, but it's important for fathers to share both of those factors, in a way. Which he absolutely does.

His child comes out to him before they reach double-digits, and its another moment that he has to pause for. Of course he's going to love them unconditionally, no matter if they identify as something else or go by different pronouns or want to use a different name, it's simply something he hadn't expected.

Doesn't really at all punish his child if they do something wrong. He'll have a conversation with them, sure, but it never truly extends to anything beyond that. Simply a "hey, don't do that again, okay?" and moving on with life. All that matters is that they understand and acknowledge their faults, in his eyes.

Involves himself in whatever his child is interested in and tries to understand it as best he can. They have a sport they're really into? He's buying them merch and watching matches or games with them. They're really into a certain video game? Start up a new save file, he'd love to play. Genuinely super supportive.

Does not at all plan on having another child. He's content with the one and, quite frankly, even one can be a lot at times. He can't count how many times he's had to go to those parent support groups just to ensure he's being as good of a dad as he can be.

COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS

Four sons and one daughter - ages twelve, eleven, nine, and eight

His oldest sons are twins

The absolute definition of a family man. He, somewhat akin to Price, always imagined himself with a family of his own later down the line in his life - a large, lively one, too. He grew up in a larger household himself with a number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older, and he always imagined the same for his future family.

He's so enthusiastic about it, too. He isn't scared or worried at all, confident in his own abilities to take care of children, given his own extended experience, so he has little to no fear in what he'll be like as a parent or his own capabilities. He knows what he'll need to do, how to do it, what to buy, what to say, et cetera, so he's confident.

He doesn't really have a plan for what their ages will be, more so allowing everything to flow naturally, but he can't deny the fact that he has his own picture in mind for what he wants his family to look like. Ironically, he always imagined himself with more girls than boys, but it seems like life had... a different plan for him.

He loves it, though. He's extremely good with newborns and toddlers especially, and when he laid eyes on his twins for the first time, holding both of them to him, it was over. Plain and simple. With the first step taken, he can now fully immerse himself in being a father and cultivating the lives of his children, and that's all he could ask for.

His boys are rowdy. Especially his oldest twins and his youngest son, his eleven-year-old acting much tamer and calmer in comparison, but still has his moments. They roughhouse with one another, mess with each other, talk shit - the whole lot. Typical sibling behavior, yes, but they had so much energy.

Takes a lot of time off to be with his family when he can spare it. If he isn't physically out for an operation and instead is at the Los Vaqueros base, he sometimes will bring one or two of his children to stay in his office while he works. That is, if he doesn't up and leave to go home the second the opportunity arises.

Defiantly the one responsible for disciplining his children and dishing out punishment. It's not to say that he's cruel or mean in any sense, but he can be strict. If they do something wrong, he's quick to decide on a punishment that appropriate and relevant, dedicated to correcting that behavior as swiftly as possible.

He's an absolute pushover with his daughter, though. Not to say that he doesn't love his boys, because he does, but he'd do anything for her. Tea parties? Dress up? Make believe? You name it, no matter how embarrassing or emasculating it may be, and he's doing it if his little girl asks.

Messes around with his boys a lot. He has a positive relationship with all of them, one that's open and honest, which leaves room for him to be able to roughhouse and taunt and poke fun at them from time to time. They might have to be smart with their own words and responses, but he's making smartass, cheeky remarks whenever he can with a grin.

OPERATION OFFICER ALEX KEELER

One daughter - aged eleven

He's thought about having children before, yes, but never in a realistic context. For him, in the past, it's always been more of a "let me imagine a scenario of how myself and a future family would look" but never actively taking strides or realistically think about how he would achieve that.

So, when you bring the topic up to him, he kind of stills and... actually thinks about it. There's a difference between putting yourself in a scenario and imagining it, and actually taking steps to make it into a reality. He sort of panics, too, because... would he actually make a good dad?

He's the most apprehensive and anxious person out of anyone when it comes to considering the path of parenthood. Of course, he agrees, more than willing to try for a baby/go through the adoption process with you, but he's endlessly terrified of messing things up.

Even when he actually gets to meet and hold his daughter for the first time - he's a man who has no shame in crying, because he absolutely does when he sees her - that paranoia remains. But even so, it solidifies his goal to become the best father he can be for his little girl.

So clueless at first at how to even approach fatherhood, purchasing so many parents books and listening to an abundance of podcasts and going to classes and everything of the like. He's confident in most aspects, sure, but parenthood is something he's never dealt with in the past - it's no surprise he wants to do everything in his power to be the best dad he can be.

As anxious as he is, though, he, in my opinion, is probably the best father he could possibly ever dream to be. He's attentive to his daughter's wants and needs, can gauge her emotions correctly and acts accordingly, is responsible in terms of taking precautions to keep her safe, and he's present as much as he can be.

Number one cheerleader in everything she does. Whether it be getting a passing grade or an outstanding one on a test, he's hyping her up. If she joins and becomes a part of a particular activity of interest, he's taking her out to a celebratory dinner. All words of encouragement and praise from him.

Is a very active an present parent, too. Takes her out on little father-daughter days whenever he can to wherever she wants to go. The mall to look at the one obscure candle store? Sure, he's down. The zoo to go make up conversations between the animals. Absolutely. He loves hanging out with her, and seeing the way she lights up whenever he offers to take her out is all he could ever dream of.

COMMANDER FARAH AHMED KARIM

Two sons and one daughter - ages seven, four, and eight months

In the beginning, actually, she was very opposed to the concept of having/adopting children. Given her involvement with the ULF and that the current climate in Urzikstan was far from safe to raise any child in, she had no reason to even entertain the thought. Especially considering her own past, she was against it.

For a while, most conversations of having or starting a family were shut down by her - she yearned for it in the back of her mind, sure, but it wasn't a realistic goal. That was until she and Samara had a conversation about the topic, Samara telling her that while, yes, there were dangers to it, there's nothing more fulfilling than family.

So, after long deliberations, she began to consider it more heavily, leading to discussions where she finally agreed. She has her own reservations, fears, and anxieties about it, yes, but considering all the work she's done, she's allowed to have this. To have a child or children, to make her own family that loves her unconditionally.

She keeps her family completely separate and distanced from her work. As much as she's passionate about what she does, there's that lingering fear in the back of her mind that, one day, her family could get hurt or even possibly used against her as leverage if they're discovered. So, there's a clean separation between the two.

But it's all worth it when she meets her first born son for the first time. She's playing such important roles in her life - the Commander of the ULF, a resistance fighter, someone associated with Task Force 141, and one of the few key figures tasked with liberating her country in its entirety. But, now, she's more than that. She's a mom.

Even though she's never had children of her own before, she handles motherhood like a seasoned professional. Even before her other two children, she never got too overwhelmed with the work and responsibilities that come with being a parent, handling everything with a level head and a calm voice, turning out in her favor.

Though, she's somewhat a bit stricter with her children - not in the sense of being overbearing and not trusting them, or even that she has high expectations and standards for them. Rather, she wants to ensure the safety of her children and that their childhoods never turn out like her own, so she takes extra precautions.

She doesn't actually send her children to school, rather taking time to teach them herself - with your aid, of course. It's partially for those same reasons of fear and wanting to protect her children, but she's actually really good at it. She's taught her children how to write, how to read, how to speak two different languages... it's a way that shows how invested she is in her family.

As serious as she can be with her work, she's much more laid back and relaxed when it comes to her family - just another perk and upside, she supposes. With all the stresses she deals with, being able to come home to her sons and daughter, being overwhelmed with love - it's rewarding in a way she's never experienced before.

NIKOLAI

Two daughters - ages eight and three

He's always imagined himself with children, in complete honesty, even when he was younger - to have maybe one to three of his own. To your luck, he's open about it too, so he's actually the one to bring up the idea to you in the beginning, having no shame whatsoever in his willingness to try for/adopt a child... or two or three.

He isn't scared to become a parent, per se, nor does he have many anxieties or worries about becoming one, but there is still that subtle worry in the back of his mind that he won't be the most fit parent.

Everyone jokes about how he can be reckless and unethical, and he enjoys the banter, but it does make him self-conscious and second guess his own ability to be an adequate father.

He doesn't really consider or worry about what ages his children are, simply allowing things to fall into place naturally, as they should. He may have imagined himself with children in his own daydreams, sure, but there was never any clear specifics for age or gender he had in mind.

But once he actually gets to meet his daughters for the first time, those worries fade away partially - they still linger, yes, but for the most part he lets them simmer on the backburner, not allowing them to interfere with him as he directs his focus away from worrying and more towards becoming the father his girls deserve.

His daughters are just as much of a menace as he is. Maybe not in the "I deal with sketchy people on a daily basis and have done some questionable things" kind of way, but they have their own mischievous streaks like their father. Be it orchestrating pranks or smaller acts of the like, sometimes they even outshine the father.

He's playful by nature, yes, and he is with his girls, but you'll also never meet a more protective parent than him. He may be sly and smug and appear all cool and collected outwardly, but when it comes to his daughters, he's doing everything in his power to protect them from anything, be it people... or ants.

Likes to be his daughters' own personal jungle gym, letting the two of them hold onto him and climb all over him without a care in the world. Additionally, that means he makes for the perfect mode of transport for them, too - having them cling onto him as he walks around, moving them from one place to the other.

He can act like a child in his own right, but he's still a good father nonetheless. In line with that protective nature, he does everything he can to both foster a positive relationship and set rules and boundaries. Bed times, chores, punishments, et cetera - he's in charge of those things, and, while he isn't strict, he's responsible.

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skzstannie · 5 months

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"I'll take care of you"

SKZ-> Felix x Reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, stranger to lovers wc: ~3,100 cw: Abusive/toxic boyfriend, yelling, violence, Felix is literally the biggest sweetheart

summary: you'd never expect the coffee shop down the street to be your saving grace, but a certain sunshine had other ideas

A/N: Hellooooo! I reached 200 followers today, so THANK U AGAIN! Should I do something special for it?

Part 2 is now posted!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"Baby, please," you sob, your cheek throbbing in pain.

"Don't 'baby' me, you know this is what happens when you don't do your chores." His smirk is villainous as he stands over you. "Don't be a bitch! Get up and go do what you were supposed to do," he seethes, making you flinch.

You slowly get up off the floor, brushing yourself off as you stand. You feel his eyes on you as you scramble into the kitchen.

You forgot to do the dishes again. You should've known better than to forget; you know he gets like this every time. You don't necessarily blame him, though. He does so much for you, and you can't even remember to do a simple household chore.

You scrub the plates clean, the hot water burning against your skin. His footsteps echo into the room, coming closer to you.

His hands wrap gently around your waist, holding you close. "You know I don't like to hit you, baby. Why can't you just listen?"

"I'm sorry. I'll be better for you," you tell him as you lean back into his touch.

"I know you will be."

~ ~ ~

"One medium Iced Americano!"

You stand from your seat in the coffee shop, making your way towards the counter to grab your drink.

The cafe is crowded, the queue at least 10 deep. You squeeze past people, muttering the occasional "Excuse me" as you pass.

You're disappointed when you get to the counter, seeing your drink nowhere to be found.

"Excuse me," you call out to the barista behind the counter, "What happened to my drink? The Iced Americano?"

"Oh, some guy just took it. It was yours?" she asks distractedly, another cup already in her hand as she pours coffee into it.

"Yea..." you trail off, your eyes scanning the shop for the drink-stealer.

"I'm sorry about that, I'll whip you up another one. What size would you like?"

"Medium, please." The barista nods her head and gets to work. "Thank you so much."

You sit down at a table near the counter to wait. Your mind starts to wander, thinking about all the work you have to catch up on this week. You're an editor for the local newspaper, and your boss decided to dump a bunch of stories on you last minute. While they weren't set to be published for another few weeks, you were incredibly meticulous with your work, so it usually took you longer than necessary to get through them.

You're brought of your thoughts by a boy walking up to your table. "I'm sorry, but I think I accidentally took your drink. My friend ordered a large iced Americano, and I think this is the medium." His cute face is twisted in an apologetic expression.

"That's ok, she's making me a new one. No worries," you reassure him, giving him a soft smile.

"Oh good, sorry again." You expect to him to walk off, your original drink in his hand, but he continues to stand in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. It's a little uncomfortable, and you're about to get up to avoid the awkward tension when he speaks again.

"Mind if I sit? You look like you could use some company."

You hesitate to answer. If your boyfriend found out you let some random man sit with you, he'd freak out.

"I was actually just about to head out. I have to get back to my boyfriend," you answer, deciding that rejecting his offer was for the best.

"Here you go miss, one medium Iced Americano," says the barista. Her arm is stretched over the counter, your drink in hand.

"Thank you so much," you immediately stand, stepping around the man to grab it.

As you go to step away, the man stops you, "My name's Felix by the way. I've seen you around here before." His eyes twinkle from the dingey lights overhead.

"I'm Y/N," your lips morph into a smile at his kindness.

"I'll see ya around?" there's a questioning twinge to his voice, a hint of hope peaking through.

"Sure. See ya around, Felix." With that, you walk towards the exit, heading back home.

~ ~ ~

"What took you so long?" your boyfriend's voice booms through the house as soon as you open the door.

"Someone else took my drink, so I had to wait for them to make me another," you explain, hopeful that you're calm energy will have the same affect on your boyfriend.

"You think that's a good enough excuse?! For all I know you could've been cheating on me! What am I supposed to think when you're gone for so long?!" he yells, his heavy footsteps approach you quickly from the living room.

"Babe, I promise it was nothing like that," you panic, your eyes darting around the foyer for an escape.

"Next time," he's in front of you now, his face red in anger, "tell me if you'll be longer." His rough hand reaches towards your face, roughly grabbing your jaw between his fingers. You wince, sure it'll leave yet another bruise. "Got it?"

"Yes," you mumble, your jaw stinging from his tight grasp.

"Good." He releases your face and wipes his hands on his pants, like he's disgusted by you.

You hurry off to your bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you.

~ ~ ~

It's been a couple weeks since you've been able to stop by the cafe. Your boyfriend's been stricter since the last coffee incident, not letting you leave the house without him.

"Hi Y/N!" your eyes glance above your computer screen, meeting the happy face of the man you met the last time you came here. What was his name again?

"Hi..." you say, hoping he'll fill in the blank.

"Felix!"

"Oh yea," you chuckle, embarrassed by your forgetfulness, "Sorry, it slipped my mind."

"That's ok!" You're heart warms, his bright and happy personality filling the emptiness of the coffee shop. "May I sit?" He gestures to the chair across from you.

You think on it for a moment. You really need to finish this article, but you guess a little break won't hurt. "Sure."

You didn't know it was possible, but his smile turns brighter at your answer. "Thanks!" He pulls the chair out and sits. It's silent between you for a minute, and you go back to typing away on your computer. "What are you working on?"

"I'm an editor for the newspaper, so I'm just finishing up this story," you reply.

"Oooh, that's cool? Do you like being an editor?"

You and Felix hit it off right away. He asks you more about your job, and you love the way he genuinely seems interested in what you have to say.

You ask him a few questions about himself, too, and you find out he's in a band with his friends.

"That's so cool!" You've finished you're article by this point, and you're nearing the end of your coffee, as well.

His eyes light up as he talks about his friends. They sound like an interesting bunch from all the stories he tells you.

"And then," he stops, letting out an adorable giggle, "he fell right on his ass, in front of everyone!" He laughs again and you join in. Something about Felix's aura just makes you feel so comfortable around him, like you've known him forever.

You both quiet down, and you become a little uncomfortable under his intense gaze. His eyes focus on your chin.

"What happened to your chin?" It's obvious he doesn't mean any harm with his question, pure curiosity taking over his features. However, the attention to your bruises makes you severely uncomfortable, and you instinctually look to flee.

"Oh, it was nothing," you think for a second, trying to come up with an excuse, "I'm just clumsy and hit my chin on my nightstand. No biggie," you tell him distractedly as you hurry to pack up your things.

His eyes widen at your panicked movements. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he apologizes, standing up as well.

"It's ok, I actually had to go anyway," you lie, swinging your bag over your shoulder. "I'll see you around." You quickly make your way out of the cafe, not even giving him a chance to say goodbye. He stands there with a slight tilt to his head, watching you rush out of the shop.

~ ~ ~

Weeks go by before Felix has the chance to talk to you again. He waits for you on your usual days at the cafe, hoping to see your familiar figure walk through the door, but you never do.

His eyes light up one particular Monday morning as you walk through the door, the little bell dinging, alerting the employees someone came in.

His smile falters a little upon seeing the man holding your hand. You're expression is stiffer than normal, your lips pursed in a tight line, replacing the bright smile you usually wear.

Felix watches as the man orders for both of you. "One medium iced Americano and a small Hazelnut latte," he says.

The man looks nothing like he thought your boyfriend would look. His eyes are cold and emotionless, practically burning holes in the side of the barista's face. Felix doesn't miss the way he rudely tosses the money onto the counter, not even gracious enough to hand it to the cashier.

Felix's gaze shifts down to your hands, your boyfriend's grip looking unnecessarily tight around your small hand. He notices the way your fingers are white from lack of circulation, and his blood boils.

Felix manages to catch your wandering gaze, your cheeks heated in embarrassment from the way your boyfriend was treating the staff.

He gives you a small wave, the corners of his lips upturned.

Your eyes widen at his show of friendliness, and you give him the smallest of head shakes. Your expression conveys, "Please don't say anything to me", and his heart clenches at this. Who does this guy think he is?

As much as Felix wants to go up to you and rip his hand from yours, it's clear you don't want him to acknowledge you right now. He knows it is because of the man next to you, and he begins to wonder if those bruises he saw on your chin weeks before weren't from your clumsiness after all.

~ ~ ~

"You never order anything when you're here. Why is that?"

It's a nice, sunny Monday morning, and you and Felix sit in the corner of the cafe.

"I don't actually like coffee much," he chuckles, his face flushing in embarrassment. You raise your eyebrows at that, waiting for him to continue. "I just like the atmosphere here, and now I come for you, too!"

Now it's your turn to blush, a pink shade creeping up your neck. "For me?"

"Yea, I figured we're friends now, and I like to spend time with you." his voice is deep and charming as he speaks, his eyes soft.

Friends aren't something that have come easy to you. Your boyfriend rarely lets you go places by yourself. Work is the main exception, and after some begging a few months prior, he allows you to come to the coffee shop by yourself, too.

Being friends with Felix sounds nice. It's been months since you first met, and most weeks you both sit at the same table, you working on your articles and him doing various other activities. Sometimes he'll bring a book to read, other times he'll just play on his phone until you're finished working.

The silence sits between the two of you as you think, and Felix worries he's made you uncomfortable. "I mean- we don't have to be, like friends, or anything. I just thought-"

You cut off his rambling, a smile gracing your lips, "I'd love to be friends with you Felix."

His shoulders slump in relief, and he gives you a relaxed smile. "Oh good, I was worried I'd scared you off."

"You're practically the nicest person I've ever met. How could you possible scare me off?" you laugh.

"I know I can come off a little strong sometimes, but I'm just a friendly guy, and I like your company," he explains to you, and you can't help but agree with everything he says.

That first day he talked to you he did seem a little overzealous. Now, after hanging out with him numerous times, you know that's just him, and you're ok with that. You love how Felix is able to bring a little sunshine into your life, even if it's only for a few hours every week.

"Well, don't worry about it. I wanna be your friend, too, and I like hanging out with you just as much," you assure him.

"Perfect! As my first duty of being your official friend, I have to ask you to stop lying to me," his voice goes serious, the light in his eyes dimming.

Your breath falters a little at this. "What do you mean?" you try to play it off, taking a swift drink of your coffee. You know he's not stupid; anyone with eyes can see the various bumps and bruises that litter your body.

"All these bruises... nobody's that clumsy, Y/N."

The familiar urge to escape fills your body, and panic bubbles in your throat.

"Felix," you choke out, your gaze lingering on your hands nervously rubbing against your pants. Tears gather in your eyes.

No one has ever confronted you about this. You pushed your family away long ago; it was upon your boyfriend's request, but who were you to tell him no? You've not been close with someone since then. You had friends before, but after so many unanswered texts, they just stopped texting. Stopped calling. Now their contacts sit in your phone as constant reminders of what used to be.

Felix's heart softens as your eyes well with tears, but he stands his ground. If he was going to be your friend, he couldn't let this slide any longer. "No more lies."

"Felix, I can't," the anxiety becomes too much, and you're quick to run out of the cafe, leaving your bag and coffee sitting on the table.

Felix quickly gathers your things and follows you out, earning a few curious glances from the people standing in line.

His eyes find your form, speed-walking down the sidewalk in the normal direction you leave in. "Y/N, please wait!" he calls after you, jogging to catch up.

He only has to run for a few seconds, catching up to you quickly. He reaches out to grab your elbow, and he immediately recoils upon seeing the way you flinch at his touch.

You stop walking, knowing there's no point in running anymore. Your head hangs low, your gaze permanently set on the ground in front of you. You allow Felix to guide you towards a secluded bench, sitting on the side of one of the buildings.

Felix's body immediately kicks into comfort mode upon seeing the tears flowing down your face. He softly sets his arm around your shoulders. You don't flinch, so he takes that as his sign to wrap you up into a hug, pulling you further into his body.

You continue to cry into his shoulder, not sure how else to deal with the emotions that overwhelm you.

"Y/N," he whispers as he rubs your back, "Can you look at me for a second?"

You raise your head from his shoulder, your eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"Please let me help you," he begs, his arms firm around your body.

"Felix, I can't," your sobs return, your arms leaving Felix to cover your face.

"Y/N, you've let him control you long enough."

Your lips wobble, and you don't know what to say. You've dated your boyfriend for years; he's all you know, all you have.

You've listened to his verbal abuse for so long, his words constantly swimming in your head:

"No one else will love you like I do."

"Nobody cares about you."

"Your family and friends left you, but not me. You can trust me."

His physical abuse marks your body. Old scars litter your arms and legs, bruises coloring your jaw and neck. You're always aching, different parts of your body always healing. You know your body needs a break.

"I know you probably feel stuck, like you have no one to go to," Felix continues, hoping that there's room in your cluttered mind for his words to get through to you, "But I'm here now. I'll help you. I won't let him touch you anymore."

Your mind is full of every emotion imaginable.

You know you can trust Felix. The problem isn't whether or not you can trust Felix. After all these months, he's proven to be one of the greatest people you've ever met. He's kind, loving, caring; everything you're boyfriend is not.

No, the problem isn't whether you can trust Felix; he's one of the most trustworthy people you've ever met. You just don't know how.

"Please, Y/N, I can't sit by and continue to watch you walk into the cafe with new bruises every week. I'll help you get out of this mess; you don't have to stay with him anymore."

Felix's pleas swirl around in your mind. The kindness he emits mixes with the words of your boyfriend like oil and water. If Felix was ice, your boyfriend would be fire; the two polar opposites in every way.

"That boyfriend of yours is no good for you," you remember your mom telling you. It was one of the last conversations you had with her before he made you cut all contact with her.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it is time for a change. Felix has always made you feel safe, like you could tell him anything. He could help you.

"It's your call, don't let him think he has power of you. All you have to do is tell me, and it'll be taken care of. I'll take care of you, Y/N."

You sit in silence for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of your sniffles filling the air.

The cold wind whips past your clouded head, bringing you back to reality. You finally gain the courage to look up at him, and his eyes have never looked softer.

"Please help me, Felix," you sob, your hands going to grip his hoodie as you lay your head against his chest. Your ear presses against his heart, the gentle beat soothing you better than words ever could.

"Oh, sweet girl," he whispers, running his hand through your hair. He's holding you so tight now, like he never wants to let you go. "You'll never have to see him again. I've got you now, nobody will hurt you anymore."

Part 2

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cherryflavoured7777 · 6 months

Text

It Might As Well Be Worth It For Once [h.c]

Summary: After a photo of you kissing your crush, Hazel Callahan, goes viral among students at your university, you try to navigate the backlash you receive on top of your newfound feelings for her.

Pairing: College!Hazel Callahan x College!fem!reader

Contains: reader sort of figuring out her sexuality, homophobia, explicit language, d slur, slut shaming, drinking, partying, violence, no explicit smut just heavy make-outs, scary ex-boyfriends, evil frat bros

word count: 3k

A/N: This is loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's song "Slut!" so listen if you want to set the mood!

Your first kiss with Hazel Callahan happened at a party, initiated by a simple dare. In the middle of a crowded kitchen, surrounded by sticky solo cups and cigarette smoke, you watched Hazel as she spoke. “Dare.” She stated to her brown-haired friend.

“Okay,” PJ starts and her eyes dart around the room,

“I dare you…” PJ’s eyes find you and she points her finger at your frame “to kiss her.”

“Real original, PJ,” Hazel remarks as she makes her way over to you.

At first, you didn't give it much thought, dismissing it as just a harmless dare amidst the alcohol-fueled chaos of the party. But as you followed through and Hazel's lips met yours, something in you shifted, and every sensation suddenly heightened. The taste of tequila on her tongue mixed with the smell of her sharp cologne made your head dizzy.

The kiss, though quick, left a new feeling that you couldn't forget. You were amazed at how in sync your movements were with each other, considering you barely knew Hazel. You’d seen her a couple of times in class, walking around campus in her stylish outfits, and at parties like these. She was friends with your roommate, Isabel, so she did run in the same social circle as you.

When Hazel eventually pulled away from the kiss, the absence of her touch left you wanting more. You leaned forward, instinctively chasing her lips. Embarrassment washed over you, reality kicking in, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of yourself. With the re-realization that it was just a game you were playing, you buried the feelings deep within your stomach, locking them away and deciding they should never be explored.

You found Hazel a few weeks later, outside one of the dorm buildings, returning home from another late night. That night, a couple of drinks deep, you summoned the courage to confess what had been consuming your thoughts. Her soft brown hair, her big blue eyes, her attractive scent, and how soft her lips were on yours.

Something felt different about your infatuation with Hazel, and you were dying to just be close to her again.

"I don’t know what it is about you, Hazel," you say, your back leaning against the side of the bricked building. "I’m never like this with anyone," you whisper, avoiding eye contact.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about our kiss, and I know that's ridiculous because it was just a stupid dare at a party." Hazel sensed your vulnerability in that moment. She took a step toward you and reached for your hand, gently playing with your fingers, which hung between both of you. As you rambled on, she stared and smiled at you, enjoying your attempt to express your feelings.

"Yeah?" She nodded at you, leaning in a bit closer with a cocky grin. "You liked it that much, huh?"

You avoided her gaze again, clearly growing more embarrassed.

"Well, I was never going to tell you this,” she sucked in a breath “But before the game started, I actually told PJ to dare me to kiss you. It was the only way I thought I was ever going to be able to." Her hand moved from your hand to your waist, squeezing gently, and her eyes landed on your lips. Her confession hung heavy in the air between you both.

Feeling a rush of boldness, you couldn't hold back any longer. You grabbed her by her shirt, slowly pulling her closer, and in a moment of sheer impulsiveness, you pressed your lips firmly against hers.

Your kiss deepened, the pressure between your lips gradually intensifying, the sensation giving you goosebumps. Hazel's lips were plush and inviting, just like you remembered. Her lips left yours for a moment before attaching themselves to your jaw, then your neck, sucking gently.

“Shit, Hazel.” You sighed and your back arched against the wall, already breathless.

Her hand on your waist pulled you closer, the touch gentle yet possessive. Your fingers instinctively wound into her hair, the strands soft and silky beneath your touch.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing this since that night,” She says between kisses to your neck. “Want you so bad,” she whines.

Her lips found yours again, the kiss hot and passionate, fueled by the emotions that had been building between you. There was an urgency to the way your lips moved together, and you felt a soft sigh escape Hazel's lips. Your bodies pressed against each other, every inch of skin on fire from the contact.

What you didn’t notice was your ex-boyfriend's roommate, Tyler, emerged out of the dorm building's entrance. He recognized you after a minute and stared at the scene in front of him in complete shock, jaw slack. He pulled out his phone, capturing the moment with a camera click. Lost in the intensity of your kiss, neither of you had noticed him. He snickered at his discovery, feeling proud of this piece of information he was now sitting on.

In the days that followed, you and Hazel became inseparable, caught up in the intoxication of a budding romance and newfound feelings. Mundane moments were made ten times better just by her presence. You’d been in relationships before, but not like this.

Taking walks hand in hand, you found the quiet corners of your college town, finding comfort in how easy it was to be around each other.

Movie marathons turned into shared glances and stolen kisses, the screen flickering in the background as you explored this new person. Your connection was so intense, it often escalated into heavy makeout sessions in Hazel's dorm, losing yourselves in the heat of the moment.

You were lying in bed, your head resting on Hazel's chest while her arm encircled you. The soft glow from Hazel's laptop illuminated the room, displaying a scene where two characters were kissing in a pool.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you said.

Hazel's hand gently rubbed your shoulder. “Do what, hm?”

“Make out in a pool. It just seems so… liberating.” You shifted in her arms to gaze up at her.

“How is making out while standing in a body of water any different than doing it on land?” She laughed, looking down at you.

“You'll find out when we do it one day,” you said with a smirk. “It’s gonna blow your mind.”

“I don’t know, I think our kisses are already pretty mind-blowing. But I’ll hold you to it,” she replied, her eyes fixed on your lips.

Just then, your phone rang, and it was a call from Isabel. You answered it, still comfortably lazing on Hazel as she absentmindedly stroked your hair.

“Hey Isabel, what's up?”

“I just wanted to check on you and see how you're doing…”

“I’m fine, I’m just at Hazel’s, I’ll be back soon though.”

“Have you seen the photo? Of you and Hazel?” She blurts out.

You sit up, your heart beating frantically as you press the phone closer to your ear. Hazel looks at you, her expression shifting from contentment to concern, sensing the change in your demeanor.

"What photo, Isabel?" you ask, your voice tight with worry.

"It's on Instagram," Isabel replies, her tone heavy with concern. "Someone posted a picture of you and Hazel, and the comments… they're awful. Homophobic slurs, slut-shaming… I thought you should know."

A lump forms in your throat, and you glance at Hazel, who grips your hand reassuringly, silently offering her support. "I haven't seen it," you admit, your voice shaky. "But thanks for letting me know."

"I reported the comments, but I don't know how long it'll take for them to be taken down," Isabel continues, her voice filled with empathy. "I'm here for you, okay? Don't let those ignorant people get to you." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"Thanks, Isabel," you say, your voice quivering. "I appreciate your support. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

"Of course," Isabel replies, her voice softening. "I’ll see you later tonight.”

With trembling hands, you grabbed your phone to see it for yourself.

There it was - the innocent moment captured in a snapshot, now tainted by the cruelty of strangers. As you scrolled through the comments, your heart pounded in your chest, each hateful word striking like a physical blow.

The pain intensified with every comment, echoing the doubts that had been gnawing at the corners of your mind. Hazel peered over your shoulder, her expression a mix of anger and concern.

"Ignore them," she urged, her voice soft yet determined. "They don't know us”

But the words had already burrowed deep within you, festering like a poison. A sense of overwhelming shame washed over you, overpowering Hazel's words. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in, and in a desperate attempt to escape, you grabbed your jacket and phone, your hands trembling as you stuffed it into your pocket.

"I can't stay here," you muttered, your voice strained, your eyes avoiding Hazel's gaze. "I need to get away from all of this."

Hazel reached out, her fingers brushing against your arm, her eyes pleading. "Please, don't run out like this," she implored, her voice cracking with emotion.

"I can't stay here," you repeated, your voice cracking as you met Hazel's gaze, filled with self-doubt. "We shouldn't see each other anymore." The words hung heavily between you, an unbearable admission of defeat. You turned away, unable to face the look in Hazel's eyes, and made your way to the door.

"Wait," Hazel pleaded, her voice raw with emotion, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

The door creaked shut behind you, sealing off the warmth and safety of the room you had shared with Hazel. Tears blurred your vision as you hurried down the dimly lit corridor, the echoes of your footsteps a haunting reminder of the distance growing between you and her.

It had been a month since you left Hazel in her dorm room. A miserable month to say the least. You felt so guilty for hurting her, but were also dealing with the hurt you felt from your privacy being so rudely invaded. Not to mention the straight-up awful comments you both received. But tonight, you were at a party you had reluctantly agreed to go to. Isabel and her girlfriend Josie convinced you that you needed to get out of your head and let loose.

Flamingo pink and aquamarine neon lights cast an ambiance on the frat house walls. The floor was sticky and the speakers were playing a rap song you didn’t know.

“Dude, we’re so young, you have your whole life ahead of you to fall in love and date hot people,” Isabel said, raising her glass to you. “Like, being this young is art. Cheers to that.” Isabel clinks her shot glass to yours. You tip your head back and shoot the tequila, burning your throat as it goes down. You needed any excuse to take a shot right now.

"I’m just going to go get us some more drinks and find Josie, okay?" Isabel gives you a reassuring look, and you nod before she disappears toward the bar. You do your best to make it look like you’re busy without your friend there, opening your phone, turning your brightness down, and scrolling through the calendar and weather app hoping no one can see over your shoulder.

“Well would you look who it is” You hear a familiar, sinister voice come from behind you. Great, it's your ex-boyfriend. Quite literally the last person on planet Earth you want to be standing face to face with right now.

“What could you possibly want right now, Josh.” You say deadpan, genuinely annoyed to be in his presence.

You and Josh had dated for four months. It was your typical college relationship, but there was always something missing, and you couldn't quite figure out what it was. He wanted sex, but you never felt quite ready to do it yet, at least not with him. Four months with no sex for a typical frat guy like Josh was absolute torture for him, so he went looking elsewhere. You ended it when you found him in bed with a brunette from the nursing program.

You can smell his mint gum as he cockily chews it and leans closer to you. “You come here to make out with more dykes, huh? You know, I always thought you were a prude, considering you never gave it up. Turns out your just a horny freak for pussy.”

His words sting. Hot tears brim at the bottom of your lash line. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but you’ve never been good at standing up for yourself in these situations.

“Fucking slut.” He spits, even closer to your face than he was a moment ago. He has you cornered against the wall now, your blood boiling with rage and your head spinning with shame.

In the dim light, you see a hand adorned with silver rings firmly grip onto his shoulder. Before he could react, he was yanked backward by the other figure, a swift and forceful movement that left him disoriented. The punch landed sharply, the impact reverberating through his body.

Hazel.

Her eyes met his for a moment, before she turned toward you, leaving him shocked.

Holy shit.

You stare at Hazel, stunned, your gazes locked. Bright, red blood pours from your ex-boyfriend's nose.

“What the fuck?” His hands fly up to his face. “Is this your little girlfriend?” He laughs humourlessly, pointing to Hazel. “Real fucking cute. Yeah, you’re dead’ He says as he launches toward her, only to be pulled back by another group of arms, Isabel and Josie.

“Guys! Go! We’ll take care of him”

Hazel wastes no time and grabs your hand, her fingers entwining with yours in a reassuring grip. You run alongside her, the thumping music fading as you descend the stairs and navigate the chaotic kitchen of the large frat house. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation fueling your steps.

You don’t know if it's the slight buzz from earlier or the intoxicating lovesickness for the girl in front of you that continues to propel your feet forward, but you decide to just go with it. Hazel leads you through the crowd, weaving in between sweaty bodies and flashing lights.

As you step into the backyard, the cool night air hits your skin, and the scene before you unfolds like something out of a movie. A huge moonlit swimming pool stretches out, its surface rippling with the movements of people swimming in their underwear, their laughter and splashes filling the air. Realization strikes you, and you know exactly what Hazel is about to do.

With an impish grin, she turns to you, "Ready?" she asks, her voice drowned out by the music but clear in your ears. She hovers her mouth to the shell of your ear. “Just trust me, please” she whispers.

You nod, feeling a surge of adrenaline, and without another word, Hazel tugs you toward the edge of the pool.

With a shared glance, you leap into the water together, the cool embrace of the pool enveloping you. As you resurface, you find Hazel's eyes, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the pool. She looks so perfect like this, you almost forgot how stupidly into her you were.

“You look really pretty” She finally says.

“Hazel, I’m so sorry. That was so fucked up leaving you in your room like that.”

“I tried to call you,” she says, her voice tinged with disappointment.

“I know, I was too much of a coward to face you, I always bury everything that makes me uncomfortable and avoid it forever. It's unfair, you need someone who can confront those issues head-on, right away.”

“What if all I need is you?” she murmurs, her words hanging in the air, heavy with vulnerability and hope.

“Hazel…”

Your heart swells at her comment, you wanted nothing more than to hear those words come from her mouth, but your guilt makes you hesitant.

She reaches out for your hand, pulling you closer through the water, her touch reassuring. Her hands gently encircle your waist, you instinctively raise yours to rest around her neck. It feels like magnets snapping back into place,

"I don’t want to hide anymore. I don't want to be the one who runs away from difficult conversations. I want to be the one who faces challenges with you, who stands by your side no matter what." you say.

Her eyes soften, and she gives you a small smile, her grip on your back tightening. "I believe you," she says. Her voice is filled with trust.

"I mean it, Hazel," you continue, your voice steady.

She lifts your legs in both of her hands, effortlessly supporting you as you wrap them around her body beneath the water. The sensation is intimate, a silent declaration of trust and connection. Suspended in the water, your eyes meet hers, and in that moment, there's a shared understanding that goes beyond words.

Your foreheads meet each other, resting gently against one another, and your breathing hitches in anticipation as Hazel speaks. “So, are we still on for that mind blowing pool kiss?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

A mischievous smile curves your lips in response. "Well, if they’re gonna call me a slut," you say, your voice low and sultry, "it might as well be worth it for once. I say we give them a show."

With unspoken agreement, you close the distance between your lips, capturing Hazel's mouth in a heated, passionate kiss. The world around you fades away, and all that exists is the electricity between you, the taste of her lips, and the water around your bodies.

You feel hopeful for the future, for where this could go. For where your heart might lead you. As you both pull away, breathless and smiling, you exchange a knowing glance, understanding that something has shifted between you, and you were exactly where you were meant to be.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

a/n: thanks so much for reading !! this is my second fic ever so again pls forgive me if there are any mistakes. I definitely want to write more for hazel though so I am so open to requests if you ever want to send one <3333

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