#he definitely smells like cigarettes and sandalwood

[mhbcaps]

I redid David's tattoos, now with 100% less shading and 100% more eroticism and Catholicism

happy Monday!

[gaygentbrontosaurus]

what Haikyuu characters smell like

…. because i’m sick of the sandalwood - vanilla bullshit, they're all in high school, they all smell like Axe or sweat

Hinata Shouyou

doesn't shower, but probably still has baby sweat so he doesn't stink

Kageyama Tobio

smells like Nivea cream. Very clean, very nice but also big baby vibes

Tsukishima Kei

showers with what his mom packed him so probably some organic oat-scented shit

Yamaguchi Tadashi

actually cares about his products and smells nice for a teenager but nobody notices

Ennoshita Chikara

Axe. Because everyone is using it, not because he thinks it's cool.

Nishinoya Yuu

doesn't shower. Also Axe.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke

showers sometimes, but only when his sister says that he stinks. Axe.

Azumane Asahi

one of the only people that actually smell attractive. definitely had an Axe phase in middle school tho. 

Sugawara Koushi

the only one on the team with a fresh shirt every practice, smells like fresh laundry

Sawamura Daichi

dad smell, like 3 in 1 hair, body, face and working in the garage

Iwaizumi Hajime

responsible adult, has a nice cologne and doesn't use too much of it, just enough. buys body wash in bulk because it’s cheaper and more convenient.

Oikawa Tooru

smells like everything. has a nice (in his opinion) perfume, strongly scented floral body wash, citrusy shampoo and coconut body butter. he is living his best life but everyone has to deal with his smell that enters the room before he does.

Matsukawa Issei & Hanamaki Takahiro

bought Axe and “manly man” body wash for shits and giggles and “ironically” use them. but in the end they still smell like Axe. also yes they bought one of each and share everything.

Yahaba Shigeru

easily impressed by Oikawa, also experiments with different smells but thankfully he’s more subtle with it

Kyoutani Kentarou

Axe.

Terushima Yuuji

Axe.

Aone Takanobu

nice, subtle scent, smells cozy.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

soap is soap, so also Axe.

Tendou Satori

either washes with just water or has a very specific and complicated hair care routine. there is no inbetween. smells like sandalwood and no one knows why.

Shirabu Kenjirou

Axe.

Daishou Suguru

you would think he’s edgy and different, but deep down we all know he uses Axe.

Miya Atsumu

Axe. He is THE prime Axe user. if someone thinks it's cool and manly it's Miya Atsumu.

Miya Osamu

Axe. but one of the milder ones

Suna Rintarou

doesn’t care. Axe.

Haiba Lev

stole his dads fancy cologne, which would be nice and all if he didn’t shower with a chocolate-scented body wash.

Kozume Kenma

long haired gamer. doesn’t shower. probably borrows deodorant from someone on the team because he didn’t pack any and doesn’t care how he smells. so Axe.

Yamamoto Taketora

doesn’t shower. Axe.

Kuroo Tetsurou

token “manly highschooler smell”. overuses Calvin Klein cologne. but shower gel? Axe. ironically watches the alpha male self care routines but secretly notes the shit down.

Yaku Morisuke

buys his products in those mom shops, all his products smell nice like lavender, jasmine or cotton and are vegan, clean and non-gmo.

Akaashi Keiji

takes care of himself. uses basic products, but has a separate product for everything, doesn’t believe in the 3 in 1 (actually uses a conditioner and face wash). smells like he showers regularly so the rest of the team is greatly impressed.

Bokuto Koutarou

Axe. douses himself with the deodorant. definitely had a tutti frutti phase in the past 2 years.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

rubbing alcohol, uses only hypoallergenic, non-scented products.

Yachi Hitoka

bought a strawberry-scented soap because it looked really cute. doesn’t like the scent at all but still uses it because she is anxious to tell her mom to get her a new one.

Shimizu Kiyoko

smells very feminine, uses fancier brands with floral smells.

Ukai Keishin

cigarettes. bought cologne to impress women but rarely uses it.

Takeda Ittetsu

laundry detergent. always has clean clothes and changes often.

[barely-coherent]

What the LOV smells like

A/N: It's weird how when something traumatic happens, after the first couple therapy sessions I start hounding to write

-

TOMURA SHIGIRAKI

Shiggy nation, please don't hurt me

He smells dusty

Like, you know how you find something really dusty and it has that certain dust smell?

That's him

He smells like that

TOUYA TODOROKI/DABI

I've said it before, I'll say it again

CEDAR WOOD

AND

CIGARETTE SMOKE

I'm speaking it into existence

Manifesting it

HIMIKO TOGA

God, I love this psychopath

I imagine she smells a little coppery

Like blood, naturally

Probably has a nice little floral scent she found once and was obsessed with it

MR. COMPRESS

Very elegant

Like, you know those cologne ads that just show the cologne bottles with like 3 word taglines

Like "For gentlemen only"

But he definitely smells a little like saffron and there's a touch of leather

TWICE

He gives off the same vibes as Shoto but with like... two very different scents that somehow mix well

A mix of woody; perhaps chestnut or sandalwood

And some oriental; vanilla or jasmine

KUROGIRI

He smells like how a thunderstorm feels

If that makes sense

Like, he smells like fresh rain but there's this underlying darkness that you can't exactly place

[cannibal-witchh]

Expirenced

Eddie Munson x AFAB Reader

Written cannibal_witchh

Contains: Vulgar language, alcohol, sexual content, and Eddie with a breeding fetish

Notes: This isn't my usual reader x character story. I've been MIA for months do to depression and life. I'm so sorry for months and months of lack of content. And I hope this will be suffient lol! I plan a Michael Myers x Reader soon so stay tuned! In the mean time enjoy some Eddie x Reader!

" Bitch, if you don't give me my jacket!", Eddie laughed wrestling you for his battle jacket. Hands shoved in eachother's faces, and obnoxious name calling passed around for a few seconds. After moments of struggling to keep the patched up denim away from Eddie, you sigh and toss it in his face. " Fine you fucking cry baby.", you teased falling on your back laying on Eddie's musty bed. Eddie was an old child hood friend, one might even say best friend with how close you two were. You cared a great amount for him, afterall, the two of you went to school together. Practically grew up together with how many years you've been in eachother's lives. Unfortunately, you graduated while Eddie repeated a few grades but it didn't stop you from spending everyday with him while you juggled a full time job to stay near him. He promised he'd make more effort this year, he promised this was going to be his year. And you couldn't help but smile at the confidence he flaunted, he seemed so sure.

" Can you grab me some alcohol, Y/N? I think your abuse hurt my feelings and I need to cope.", Eddie stuck his lower lip out sarcastically, and started to light a cigarette. " You're a dick you know?", you rolled your eyes as you saw Eddie adjusting his hair in the dresser mirror. He was in his own world, and you couldn't help but admire him. His arms lifted up smoothing the frizz down while his shirt raised revealing traces of dark abdominal hair. He had a great stomach, and you had several occasions where a shirtless drunkened Eddie playing air guitar performed infront of you. " Ugh, what do you want?", you sighed making your way to his trailer door. " You're the alcoholic, surprise me! I know you have a stash in your trailer, now be a good girl and get it.", he tried to keep a straight face and kept pointing to the direction of your trailer. You shook your head with a smirk and made your way to your trailer's fridge to grab some of your preferred drinks and brought them back over to his place.

" Are you happy, your highness?", you took a sip of your gin and water concoction. He nodded and made sounds of satisfactory while downing an IPA. " Yep, yep.", he popped off the next top of a beer. The top flew onto the ground making a loud clinking sound. "Fucking virgin.", you teased taking another sip with a red faced smile. You felt a slight buzz coming on but not enough to hinder your thoughts. You felt something sticking under your foot for a second. You moved your foot up to see what it was. A packaged condom. Eddie was usually pretty skilled at hiding these around his room. He rarely wanted you to see them. You weren't sure why but you felt ballsy enough to interrogate him this time.

"I'm not a virgin! I've had my fair share of romps. ", he gulped the beer down.

" Is that why this room is stashed with condoms and playboys? Hmm?", you pretended to poorly be shocked.

Eddie looked at you with a red face, buzzing from a few beers but also traces of embarrassment. " Shut up! I definitely have...expierence..", he paused at the last word which seemed to struggle to fall off his tongue. You began laughing and plopped back down on his bed this time pulling one of his pillow under your head. It was littered with the smell of his cologne which smelled of sandalwood. " It's not like you've ever done it! I know, Y/N, you are too picky with all the dudes here.", he tossed his other pillow at you. You smiled big and glanced over at him. His face hidden behind his hair and his eyes away from your's. " Actually...I fucked a few people. Yeah, one of them was Steve!", you joked throwing the pillow at his head. You knew that Eddie didn't care much for Steve so that caught his attention. " No you didn't! There's no way, that kid got some action with you!"

"Why? Are you jealous, Eddie the virgin?"

"No! I just - "

"Yes! Yes, yes you are!"

" Ahhhhh!!", he loudly made sounds of annoyance. You could tell he wasn't actually mad but you caught him. He was definitely clear with a face reading jealousy. You'd never seen Eddie that red in the face, it was enough he stopped downing his beer, besides there was one left on his coffee table. "Hey, it's ok...Eddie the virgin.", you rolled to your side to whispered to him sensually. He rolled his eyes and shoved you playfully. " You know, I could fuck you better.", for a moment it was silent and you couldn't help but sit with those bursts of words. He even seemed surprised with himself.

" I-...I mean-..."

"Eddie...if you have all this EXP, let's see it.", you smiled laying on your back again.

" Woah...are you sure?", he looked at your with a face caught off guard.

"Yep, I wanna see how disappointed I'll be."

After a few minutes of bullying eachother, Eddie made his attempt. He looked at you, no words were expressed, just his body climbing above you. His head lowering to your's as his chain necklace hung from down and dragged across your skin. It was hot, he was fevered from the beer. " I'm going to fuck you better than any of those other men.", he said serious, and his look seemed to grow primal. His eyes dark, his face stone like. And his hands on both sides of you, as he lowered himself down to kiss you. You were expecting this kisses to be awkward but there weren't. They were intense, he was pushing his tongue into your mouth, biting your lower lip, and planting kisses along your jaw. You couldn't help a moan from escaping. " Wanna run that by me again? What was that sound?", he confidently smiled as his large hand slide to your chest up to your neck. He gently put pressure on it while he used it to guide your head up to better kiss him. " Fuck you, Eddie.", you laughed as he continued placing kisses on your lips. You felt your body grow even hotter, your nipples growing erect, and heat was emanating from between your thighs. His hand was gripping a little tighter on your neck but you couldn't manage to focus. From that and the invasion of his kisses to the erection that he pressed against your thigh. He moved his other hand to cup your breast and squeeze it tight. Another gasp slipped from your lips. Eddie. You dared not moan his name, you refused to give him that. He eventually slid his hand under your shirt and under the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple. It grew sensitive between his fingers. "Fuck.", he kissed sloppily your neck, " your so warm.", he licked your neck. You tilted your head back as he continued to tease your nipple. "Eddie...", you whispered as he stopped to press his forehead against your's. His eyes dilating, hot breaths exchanged between the two of you, and his erection thumping against you. "Show me that you can fuck me better. I haven't been fucked in so long.", you demanded reaching down to cup his erection. A low gasp slipped from his mouth, "How long?", he asked undressing you.

"Since junior year, Eddie." A shirt flew off your shoulders.

"You're so hot...I'd be giving it to you as often as I could." His shirt was tossed off.

"Yeah? I've wanted that for awhile." He began pulling your pants and underwear off.

"Jesus.", he grabbed your panties and sniffed them as he admired your pussy.

"Hurry up.", you demanded.

Eddie didn't hesitate, he removed all the remaining clothing on both of you until you finally got to see his cock for the first time. It was a good size, and it was curved to the side slightly. "Wow..." , you giggled.

"What?!", he panted annoyed. " Your dick is small.", you teased, and he knew you were joking, and he gave your nipple a good flick. Mmm. "If my dick is so small, I wanna see you fit it all in your mouth.", he suggested as his eyes darkened over you. You felt your heart pick up the pace. All the years you'd imagine what Eddie's cock tasted like, the sensation of it throbbing and twitching on your warm tongue. It finally was happening. Excitment churned in your stomach. You looked at him and brought yourself close to his hard member, you guided his hand away from himself, and replaced it with your mouth. He let out a soft gasp and his expression softened. He savored the moment, watching you bob your mouth up and down on him. Your tongue gliding against his length as you sucked on him. Spit spilling from your lips and trickling down his shaft. His hand grabbed tufts of your hair to squeeze, his cheeks grew flush, his chest rising and falling, and moans escaping his lips. "Jesus...", he bit his lip and tightened his grip on your hair. "Eddie?", you softly whispered taking his cock out of your mouth and kissing it. "Hmmm?", he responded moving his hand to cup your cheek. "Stick it in.", you smirked.

He wanted to watch you, he wanted to see you on your back, tits bouncing, face red, and body shaking. He kissed you hungrily until you fell on your back. "Hang on...", he reached under his bed to retrieve something. "Eddie, what are you doing?". You impatiently whined. "Condom.", he sighed, patting all over the ground for one. "Eddie, relax. We've been friends since we were kids. I really don't mind.", you shyly looked at him, pulling him back towards you. "Woah...I could get you pregnant?"

"So?"

"You don't care?"

"No.", you leaned towards him and bit his lower lips. His cock twitched, and his hands launched at your breasts. His cold rings brushing against your chest as he squeezed and cupped them. You began to wrap your legs around his hips, and you felt his fevered cock brushing against your slit. He began to gently buck and without effort, he slid inside you. Both of you began to gasp. His forehead against your's as you both exchanged a deep breath. "Fuck, I've waited for this for a long ass time.", he began to thrust gently in and out of you. His hands moved away from your breasts and on to the top of the headboard. He was going at a normal rhythm to accustom to your size, and he couldn't help but want to just savor your warmth. "Eddie, me too. All the guys I fucked...I was thinking of you. I couldn't believe you never made a move. I figured you didn't feel the same.", you admitted as he began to thrust harder in you. The sound of moaning and a shaking mattress filled the trailer. "Y/N, I felt the same. Didn't think you'd like a dude like me.", he leaned in to kiss you. His tongue invading your mouth, spit was being exchanged, and dripping down both of your chins. The kiss was broken, and saliva strung from both of your tongues. "I've wanted you for a long time Eddie...", you moaned staring into his brown eyes. His face was flush, and his chest began to blush a more vibrant red.

He continued fucking you, and flipped you around into doggy position. A hand grabbing your ass and the other around your throat. " Fuck! I want to give you a baby!", he shouted tightening his grip. You felt adrenaline, and lust electrifying your body. Your pussy was drenched, and his hard cock didn't lose pace. He hit harder and harder against your G spot. His grunts growing louder and more agressive. "I'm going to make you a mommy. You like the idea?", he slapped your ass, and you yelped loudly. " Yes, Eddie!", and a finger slid into your asshole. You moaned louder, and he began curling his thumb in your ass. His cock continuing to pump your pussy. "I can't even believe I'm fucking you for the first time. You better be ready because I have a breeding fetish...mmmm...God, your fucking cunt is intoxicating.", your body began tighting more on his cock, you felt close to breaking. Was he even close? His stamina was pretty good. Maybe he wasn't a virgin after all? "Fuck, I'm going to fuck you over and over again. You're going to be pregnant with all my children. And then I'm going to watch your tits get fat with milk. And, mmm...I'm going to savor and drink from your delicious nipples.", he reached his hand from your neck down to your nipples to pinch. "Oh, Eddie!", you shouted, your hands gripping the bed sheets. " You might as well practice, baby girl. Go on, you're going to be a mommy, and I'm going to be a daddy. Go on call me Daddy.", he commaned replacing his thumb with two fingers in your asshole. His knuckles making contact with you, as your hole adjusted to his long boney fingers. "Daddy!", you yelled. Within that moment his cock throbbed, and his hips led. The sound of his hips hitting your ass echoed the room. You were confident the mattress would give or the wall would result in a hole from it. " That's it, say it again.", he grunted, pulling in and out with his fingers. "Mmmm...", you moaned, you were struggling to let words drop from your mouth. He was pleasuring you too well, all the time lost from not fucking eachother. All the time alone frustrated and touching yourself to him. Fucking other guys to the idea of Eddie. " Go on, Momma. Say it.", he began to laugh, and smacked your ass hard. You let out a cry and your knees began to shake. "Daddy! Daddy! Your cock is so good!", you whined. Fingers continuing to pump in you, and his other hand gripped the back of your neck. Forcing you face into the mattress, his hand moving to the back of your head to grab a handful of your hair. Your screams drowned inside the mattress. "God, that pussy, is unreal. I can't believe I'm going to fill it up with my cum. You ready?", he laughed again as his grip tightened around your hair. "Huh, Momma? You ready?", his voice growing shakey, his abs tightening, and beads of his sweat dripping down your back. " Oh God, yes Eddie!", you pleaded, face forced into the sheet, you body tensing up and quivering. An earth shattering wave of pleasure was rippling through you, your breaking point was near. You screamed his name as he forced another finger into your ass and pushed in and out. " Cum. Cum on my dick.", he demanded, his body lowering to press against your back. His nipple and navel piercing brushing against you. Your back involuntarily arching against him. You let out a loud moan as you felt your body break. An orgasm webbing throughout your body, scattering everywhere as your body shook. Eddie let out a moan and you felt his hot cum fill you. " Ah...Y/N.", he moaned pulling his fingers out of you and forcing his dick deeper against you. His body falling ontop of you as he began to pepper kisses against your back. " Oh God.", he panted.

Thirty minutes passed and you two were both laying on your backs staring at his cheap glow in the dark stars on his cieling. You both had freshened up in the shower together and decide to cuddle under his bedsheets. Eddie's wet waves scattering on his pillow as he looked over at you. He pecked your nose and left you smiling. " Hey,", he squeezed you close. "Yes?", you sighed, resting your head against his chest, your finger playing with his nipple ring. "Will you be my girlfriend?", you felt an overwhelming amount of joy in those words. You had spent years crushing on Edward. Years hoping he'd ask the question and tears began welling in your eyes. " Are you sober?"

"The fuck? Of course I'm sober. I want you to be my girlfriend, bitch.", he teased bringing his nose to your hair to breath it in. "Yes, Eddie. I'd love that more than anything." Eddie sprung up from the bed, throwing his head back and forth and playing air guitar. His flaccid dick flopping around and you couldn't help chuckling. He was humming some Metallica song and happily chanting how happy he was.

A knock startled him and he squeaked. After dressing eachother, you two went to the door together. " What the hell, guys? I've been waiting for like an hour?", it was Dustin. He had books under an arm and a bag of dice in his hand. " Oh shit.", his eyes widened darting at you. " I take it, no campaign planning today?", Dustin sarcastically smiled.

You blushed heavily looking the other way and Eddie palmed his face. "Nope, I got a special lady over. Let's try...tomorow..no-no, Friday!", he shouted trying to pull a random date out of his ass. "Dude, just say your going to romp, ok? I'll tell the others it'll be awhile until the next DnD night.", Dustin shook his head and turned his back to Eddie. " Love you, man!", Dustin laughed and flipped him off as he walked away. "Love you too, dude!", Eddie smiled wide and began to pull his hair up in a bun. "Sooo...Y/N, wanna go on a special campaign right now?", he brought his face to your's and began kissing you. The door shut, and he flicked the lights off. " I have a few days off from being a DM...hehe."

[gary-mu]

Don't let me go

Pairing: Kishibe x gender-neutral reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Word count: 1284

Warnings/Tags: mentions of violent death, brief mentions of blood and gore, trauma, implied alcohol abuse.

Summary: In other circumstances, witnessing such a terrible massacre would have left Kishibe only with sporadic nightmares and a pile of empty bottles in his apartment. But now that he's got someone to care for, the worst of his fears managed to break free and plague his mind with dreadful thoughts.

The fear of losing you, of seeing you die in front of him, is enough to plunge him into emptiness, and only your loving arms around him can help calm his sorrow.

A/N: if you squint hard enough you'll see Kishibe's very well-hidden soft side.

Enjoy :)

Cover by: @ufufuahaha_okg

Read it on AO3

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The sound of the door opening shakes you out of deep sleep. You turn over in bed to meet him with a dazed smile. Midnight was a couple of hours ago, and you're relieved he's finally home.

The room is almost pitch-black were it not for the faint moonlight streaming through the window. It's not hard for your eyes to distinguish the features of the man standing on the threshold. The effects of a long day at work show clearly on his face.

Kishibe remains under the door frame, his shoulders slumped. He seems to struggle to discern reality from whatever is running through his mind. It wouldn't be the first time he comes to you barely conscious after drinking his feelings away. There's nothing you can do now but invite him to join you in bed and let him rest, hoping he'll feel better in the morning.

You call his name in a dry voice, almost like your vocal cords have forgotten how to function. There's no reply. Thinking he might haven't heard you, you try again - louder this time - but he remains unfazed, gazing emptily. His face has no expression other than exhaustion.

Without a word, Kishibe closes the door behind him and begins to undress. His coat falls to the floor with a rustle, hitting the soft carpet beneath his feet. The black-tie around his neck joins it not long after. His fingers struggle with the buttons of his shirt, unsure, trembling. He's definitely drunk, you think. Guess it was another rough day.

"What's wrong, love?" you speak softly, trying not to startle him. Once again, your words don't seem to reach his ears. Something is not okay. He's either refusing to talk to you or in shock. Either way, his behavior worries you. "Are you alright?" you ask, fighting the knot in your stomach, fearing the worst. His eyes finally move in your direction, though they seem to be staring at an empty space.

After taking a deep breath, Kishibe strips down to his boxers. His skin is cold when he climbs onto the bed and dives under the blankets. His body seeks yours instantly, desperate to be surrounded by your warmth, eager to feel something more than the icy hole opening in his chest and the sharp fangs of his intrusive thoughts gnawing at his mind. The devil hunter rests his head on your chest, throwing an arm around you and pressing you tightly against his body. The way he sighs, as if you just gave him back his will to live, makes your heart clench.

Instead of the sour smell of booze and cigarettes - that usually accompanies him after hours - the devil hunter smells like sandalwood. It means he didn't try to drown his inner demons with unhealthy amounts of alcohol and took a shower at the headquarters of the devil hunters' organization before coming home. In other circumstances, you would appreciate the gesture, but you almost wish he was drunk. Blaming his behavior on that would be easier.

Although Kishibe never shares the details of his job - for the sake of your mental health - you know how difficult and dangerous it can be. No matter what happens, a devil hunter never comes out of a mission unharmed. After many years on the job, physical wounds become rare, except for bruises and shallow not-life-threatening cuts here and there. On the other hand, psychological damage roots deeper every time, wrapping its claws on the hunter's mind and never letting go. Feeding from their emotions like a parasite, leaving them empty or driving them mad.

Never before - in the time you've been dating - have you seen Kishibe so afflicted. His coping mechanisms are flawed and not entirely healthy, but they have kept him alive and functioning through all these years, and you respect that. Still, you wish he would for once talk to you about it. Not that his problems could be solved just like that, as if by magic, but because sharing a burden can make it lighter.

Once you wrap your arms around him, you sense the tension in his soul. The lump in your throat cuts your breath, and you fight back the urge to cry while you caress Kishibe's cheek, letting his stubble tickle your fingers. The hunter melts into your embrace, and you kiss his head, closing your eyes.

"Babe?" You say, hoping he listens to you now. "Please tell me what's wrong. Tell me if there's something I can do for you." The pleasant tone of your voice hides the turmoil in your mind.

Kishibe lets out a long sigh, trying to expel the darkness invading him while he clings to you desperately. His mind recalls the exact moment when his world fell apart, and he shudders, closing his eyes for an instant to concentrate on your scent.

"Don't let me go..." he finally replies. His tone is heavy and cold. "... Please ." his voice fades into a whisper as he brings you closer to bury his head in the crook of your neck. Your sobs fill the air, and he wants to join you. To cleanse his soul. But he lost the ability to cry a long time ago.

"What happened?" you ask, turning in his embrace to cup his face in your hands. His blank expression is impossible to read, but in the deep darkness of his eyes, you recognize a hint of pain and... fear?

"Please tell me," you beg with tears blurring your vision. It doesn't matter if only hearing about it traumatizes you or gives you nightmares. A few sleepless nights wouldn't be a high price to pay for helping him carry that weight.

Seeing you like this feels like a red-hot iron piercing Kishibe's heart. But how could he tell you that he saw a demon slowly murdering a couple of newlyweds while they stretched out their arms, trying to reach one another before dying? How could he possibly describe that they still tried to give each other hope between screams of agony? "It's going to be okay," they lied as the demon slowly disemboweled them, and blood gushed from their wounds... How would he confess to you that he froze for the first time in many years, helpless as he imagined your death, seeing you in the bride's place, screaming his name as you struggled not to drown in your own blood?

"I'm sorry," is the only thing that comes out of Kishibe's mouth. He's sorry that he made you suffer, and you have to cry for both of you because his feelings are locked away and forgotten. Those empty black eyes that have seen things so horrible they would drive anyone else mad now look at you with a bittersweet mixture of pain and love. Kishibe sighs, cursing himself again for breaking your heart, as he moves closer until his lips meet yours. Your tears die on his cheeks, soaking his face.

"I'm sorry," the hunter whispers again. And the weight on his chest threatens to suffocate him.

Kishibe wraps his arms around you again, resting his forehead against your chest while repeating to himself that he will protect you. No matter what price he has to pay, he won't let anything happen to you. Not even death will stop him from being your guardian, and if he has to return from hell turned into a demon to keep you safe, he will not hesitate to do so.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me," you whisper as you stroke his back. "But at least let me help you."

"Just don't let go of me," Kishibe says, closing his eyes. Please, don't leave me alone

----------- >> * << -------------

[msgexymunson]

Oh my, there’s far too much choice for that WIP ask game, how on earth am I supposed to choose?!?!

OF COURSE I want some FF goodness (best series ever), but I’m not going to, and I’ll wait it out like a good girl… So instead I’m going to ask for either Midwest Monster or Scream For Me (or both, if that’s even allowed 🤭🫣), and if they’re both already taken then Professor Quinn is hovering very close (extremely close) behind 😆

Kittie 💋

Full disclosure, I went to take a snippet of the fic and ended up reading it all and falling into a 'what next' hole.

Couldn't pick a best bit, I'm like 6k in and not near the smut yet. Its my werewolf Eddie fic, and this is the beginning...

Mid West Monster - Intro

Eddie doesn't know how he got out of the Upside Down. All he remembers are throbbing flashbacks of those weird bat creatures sinking their teeth into him and the blood bubbling in his chest. The wet feeling of his life essence as it drained through all the bites, and the tears falling from Dustin's cheeks as he stared down at him hopelessly. He knew he was going to die. 

Darkness.

The next thing he knew, he was naked, lying on the floor of his trailer. His trailer; not that frightening, vine infested dark mirror. The place looked like a hurricane had ripped through it. The furniture was in splinters in the living room, mugs had been smashed, and hats ripped off of hooks. There were huge gashes in the very walls of the trailer itself, some so deep he could see daylight shining through them. 

He remembered looking down at his body, expecting to see horror and mutilation, a deadly game of tic tac toe played on his torso; but instead what he saw made him gasp in shock. There was blood, yes, but it was dried and crusted, flaking away at a fingertip touch. Underneath, a few light scars were all that remained of his apparent near death encounter. They looked decades old. As he had showered the blood and grime away, he noticed his body looked different, felt different under his fingers. His physique was toned, broader and more defined. He had a six pack without even having to clench and really try. His er… his manhood was bigger, thicker and somehow heavier. And he was definitely hairier.

The scars had all but disappeared a couple of weeks later, same with the murder allegations. Since Vecna's defeat and Hopper's return, all the carnage had been explained away, leaving Eddie to live a normal life. 

The only problem was, he was anything but normal. 

His hearing was incredible, listening to conversations halfway across a noisy Summer school classroom with no difficulties. He was stronger, faster, and so aware of his surroundings sometimes it was just downright painful. Dustin had tried to get him to go to the arcade a few days ago but it was just too much input for his heightened senses and he had to high tail it out of there. 

The biggest change of all though? His sense of smell. 

It felt as if he'd lived his whole life breathing in a gas mask with a pillow across his face and it had suddenly been removed. They were luminous scents, filling his nose with such strength that it was almost better than seeing. The grass, flowers, the path of an unseen wild animal. And the people! Oh God, the people. Everyone was a trail of smell, an orchestra  of aromas, some more distinct than others but all unique in some way.

Yesterday he could smell Uncle Wayne so strongly; a thick cloud of cigarettes, oil and metal from the plant, sandalwood, and, well, the words did not exist for all the rest. It smelled like a comforting, hazy navy blue, which he knows would only make sense to him. He'd even said 'hey' over his shoulder whilst he was sitting on the couch. The crazy thing was, Wayne had walked into their new trailer a few minutes later. 

There was something else too. Eddie's head felt… full. Not of information, he only wished he could get some answers right about now, but another presence. Someone, something was there, other than him. He often wondered if he was just losing his mind, trauma coming out in weird and wacky ways, but as soon as those thoughts came he dismissed them. There was enough evidence to show that he had changed. 

Eddie shuffles into the Summer school classroom, hunched over. He's grown at least a couple inches; that and his broader frame as well as his trademark metalhead look basically made him a moving target. For once in his life, he's trying desperately to not draw attention to himself. 

Jock dickheads will always be jock dickheads though, even when they're retaking English classes. Some 'mouth breather', as Mike would say, a brute of a boy in a letterman jacket and a blonde buzzcut, sticks his foot out and trips him up. Eddie's new lightning reflexes stop him from crashing to the floor, grabbing the edge of the desk at the last minute. 

He's about to just drop it, let it go, until he hears "watch your step, Freak." 

Bite him. 

The thought rings loud and clear in his brain. It's more than a thought though, it's a voice. It's not his, the cadence is different, voice deeper and husky, almost a growl. 

Eddie is shaken to his core, frozen on the spot. Every hair on his body feels like it's standing on end, hackles raising. He blinks the thought away; he doesn't have hackles. 

Standing up, he releases his hold on the desk. Four deep fingernail patterns are etched into the wood. 

This is too much. He turns on his heel and practically jogs to the restroom to splash water in his face. 

What the fuck was that? 

Eddie stares in the mirror, water droplets in his bangs coalescing and mingling to drip down his nose and chin. There's stubble on his jaw even though he shaved this morning. 

He's staring into his own eyes, seeking answers. Then it happens again. 

We should have bit him. 

"What the- who are you? What are you?" 

The mysterious voice doesn't answer; but there's a growl deep in his skull. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pinches the bridge of his nose until it stops. 

Fuck this. 

Eddie leaves school, racing toward his van. Mrs O'Donnells class can wait.

[rattilingus]

I Can Feel Air Inside My Lungs

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary| Eddie has been pining for a while and wonders if you’re blissfully unaware or just plain mean. His feelings are indescribable, but what he does know is you’re hot, and he loves it.

word count| 2.8k

warnings| 18+ MINORS DNI, weed and cigarette smoking, brief mentions of sex, Eddie being in love, Fluff, Intense making out, mentions of death (not yours or eddies though), no use of Y/N

A/N| Here’s another one around the same time which was very unintentional but fuck it we ball. I headcanon eddie being hopelessly in love and unable to stop thinking about the person he like so it all dumped into this. Lmk if you want smut cause man do I have some ideas and yall were so nice with the last one. I’d love to hear some of your requests too! Anyways, here you filthy animals XOXO

If Eddie were to describe you as anything, anything in the word, he would pair your likeness to a stifling hot summer. 

Not because your smile warmed the entire room like a hot day in August. Nor because in the sun, your skin glowed a golden hue that made the thin layer of sweat that coated your skin look like millions of glistening diamonds. Definitely not because of the humidity that frizzed your hair and the way you’d chuckle, lifting a clump and tease, ‘Guess who I look like!’. No, because in those moments, he knew that if he were to touch you, feel your smooth skin against his calloused fingers, he’d feel the searing heat your body emanated. 

Because everything about you was hot.

The first time he touched you, his fingers were splayed on the expanse of your bare stomach and the heat flooded through his palm and into the lowest parts of his gut. You had both been passing a blunt in between the two of you, a slow and lazy high washing over your muddled brains. His room was cool as the fan pushed the autumn breeze past the window and into your faces, and yet somehow, you burned to the touch. 

Giggly and slurred, you had stood from the spot on his bed and lifted up your oversized t-shirt a little too high, showing the lower cups of your bra, black and laced and pretty. Eddie couldn’t tell if the stuttering of his words was because of the high or his desperation to pull you close and let his slightly chapped lips roam your skin, but his eyes lingered on the way your belly flexed.

“The boxes at work are really fucking heavy,” You’d drawn out, eyes hooded and a sly smirk on your face. Did you know what you were doing? Those shorts you wore hung sinfully low on your waist, and he could see the few strands of hair that led down— “I think I’m starting to get a little buff, huh? Like the fuckin’ Terminator guy— what’s his name?”

“S-Schwarzenegger.” How he could remember that at this moment was beyond him. His cottonmouth was killing him and he needed a fucking beer. Maybe then his thoughts wouldn’t be so overwhelmed by your beautiful skin, the way it wafted a sweet, slightly musky smell. A heady mix of sandalwood, detergent and sweat. Were you hot?

You had smiled at him, shirt never falling down from your fingers. Not until you reached for the blunt in his hand, placing it in your mouth and taking a long drag, throwing your head back and revealing the tempting column of your neck. He licked his lips, eyes wide and skin beginning to prickle with desire. Moving the blunt from your lips, resting in between your pointer and thumb, you pass it back to him. Your eyes locked, and his unoccupied hand clenched. Cause you were looking down at him. Looking at his sitting form on the edge of his bed, and you were no more than a foot away. He’d never noticed how close you were until you took a small step forward, resting in between his spread legs, invading his space.

And you looked at him with eyes that burned into his. He felt singed, but he couldn’t tear away. Then you blew out the smoke through your nose, eyes trained on his and that lazy, closed mouth smile never leaving your features. 

You knew what you were doing. 

He swallowed on nothing, and— fuck, where is that beer? He could feel the heat from your knees that bumped into his covered ones, and his leg twitched at the impact. His curly hair felt too heavy on his head, and he wanted nothing more to loll his head forward, resting on the curve of your bust. But he was locked in place by that hypnotic gaze, those pretty eyes that were too clear for someone so high. 

“Touch me, Eddie.” You had said, voice low and unwavering. His heart had stopped, and lips pursed. Big, brown, doe eyes widened almost comically large, but this situation was anything but funny. The blunt had burned out by then, begging to be relit, though he couldn’t give a single fuck. He placed it on his bed, gaze never leaving your own. He didn’t know where to place his hands, and his brain was in no state to function. Not when the girl of his dreams was standing in between his legs, asking for his hands on her. 

So he played it safe, placing his large hands on your clothed thigh, baggy jean shorts rough and dry. He never noticed how clammy his hands were, and he subtly wiped his palms on the faded blue denim. His eyes finally broke your intense gaze, leaving yours to stare at the way his hands looked on your form. His heart battered in his chest so hard it hurt, because Eddie was touching you. Not with the friendly pat on your shoulder or the way you’d place your hand on the small of his back when you talked about something. This was with an intimacy that jumbled his nerves. Set him into overdrive.

Clearly, that's not what you wanted, though. Your breathy chuckle lifted his gaze towards your glimmering eyes, coquettish and exuberant. Your nimble hands crept towards the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and revealing that haven of skin he saw once before, until the fabric rested in between your teeth. The sight had Eddie panting, arousal budding through his veins in that electric shock that usually had him pulling out a dirty magazine and his hand in his pants until he came with your name tumbling from his lips. Those same hands moved to his own, brushing over the rings gently before interlocking your fingers together. You moved them past your hips and just above those gossamer strands of hair, landing on the skin beside your belly button. His hands were large, so large on you. And your stomach burned into his palms but the cool of his silver rings had you hissing, it quickly turning into a breathy, pleasured giggle. 

“You burn.” He croaked out, wide eyes lingering on his fingers on your skin. Your muffled laugh filled the room, head tilting to the side and moving the fabric up more. “You cooking something up in there, babydoll? That why you want me to touch your stomach?” You barked out another laugh, loud and curt. He didn’t want to ease the situation back, didn’t even mean to. But the way you stared, the indents of his fingers on your skin and the complement of his hands pressed against yours had him feeling.

Pining.

And he’s been doing that for long enough without the help of touching your bare skin, feeling the flexing of your muscles and the plumpness of your legs. He gripped tighter, grunting softly as the fan blew your hair, making you look ethereal. The afternoon sun cascading in and lighting behind you, your figure appearing as if you descended from heaven and into his room. Into his arms. Your scent filled his nostrils, and he leaned forward, taking a deep breath. Your hands quickly found his hair, carding through the mess of curls and finally dropping the cloth from your lips. 

Your voice was loud in his ears, which felt sensitive to everything. “I should be a bodybuilder, huh?” You had spoken so quietly, gently, that he barely heard the playfulness in your voice. He only focused on your warmth, your skin and the way you fit so perfectly in between his legs. 

“You burn.” He mumbled once again, closing his eyes.

But none of that mattered compared to this moment right now.

You two were laying on the hood of his van, legs intertwined and looking at the setting sun through the forest clearing. You had a thing for the sunset, and he had a thing for watching the golden rays cast light on your form. A cigarette dangled from your lips as you spoke, and Eddie stared. He didn’t care if you noticed, though he didn’t think you would considering you ogled the fluffy clouds shrouded in orange and pink. He studied your profile as if the test in Bio tomorrow was on you instead of homeostasis. Then he wouldn’t fail. He’d memorized every detail of your face, and even then never got tired of looking. He watched the way you puffed smoke out of the corner of your lips, but mainly from your nose, making you look like an angry dragon. Fiery. Passionate. Imposing.

He caught a blurb of your words, and his lips pulled into a dimpled smile. “—and this fucker brought is dog inside the diner. Whole time the dog was eating the bacon and he was tryna get a free burger. We made a burger for this jackass TWICE—“ you shoved two fingers up in the air with a deep frown. You turned to Eddie, face tempestuous. But as you saw the smile on his face, soft and loving and happy, you broke out into a glittering grin. “What? I thought I was gonna get fired! Eddie, honey, I was so scared.” You pressed your hand to your heart dramatically, lips pouting around the cig. He laughed, sitting up and you following his motion, glancing at the sky. Purple mixed into the pink and orange, and the moon began glimmering through. 

“My god, no! Fire the most perfectest waitress who gives away free slices of cake to the elderly?” Eddie gasped, eyes wide and ringed hand slapping against his cheeks. “They would lose the whole business, huh?” You gawked at him, shoving him a little too hard, so much that he almost toppled off the hood. He joined in on your loud laughter, eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Fuck you, who knows when those old bastards will keel over. Might as well give them good last moments.” You shrug, kicking your feet on the hood.

Eddie looks at you incredulously. “Thats fuckin’ morbid.” He can’t keep a straight face. It’s impossible when your pretty eyes widen, lips parting and cigarette falling from its wet grip. You look at him as if to say ‘You’re judging me?’, and it has you both giggling, doubling over and slapping the others arm and leg. As your laughter dies down, so does the sun, now replaced by the cool blue and indigo of the sky, stars littering the sky and moon full and pregnant. You look at the stars, and Eddie looks at you. You glowed under the moon, just as you did in the sun. You burned brighter than them both.

Quickly, you hopped down from the hood, ducking into the van and yelling out a hurried, “Hold on. I have an album for this.” Eddie chuckled, the sound not loud enough for you to hear.

“Don’t play any dumb shit or I swear to god you have to pay me for the next blunt, babydoll.” Your giggle was soon drowned out by the sound of music, a slow, sensual strum of electric and drums filling the air. It wasn’t too loud, but he could feel the tremor of bass through the hood. You came out, a smile pulling on your lips, making the plump of your cheekbones push your eyes. Hopping back up, you nudged Eddie with your shoulder, eyes looking at your dangling feet.

“Thought you might like this one, babe.” The nickname did vicious things to him. He looked at you, unable to hide the affection in his eyes. And this time you noticed, eyes searching his own. The lyrics were suggestive, sexy. The way the vocalist sang was if he was on the brink of moaning, a draw in his gravelly voice and— yeah, he liked it a lot.

A new cigarette found its way back in your mouth, and jealousy flooded Eddie's brain. He wanted to be the one to taste your lips. Feel if they’re just as soft as they look. If they’re as hot as the rest of your body. His heated gaze watched the way you struggled with the lighter, a grunt moving past your lips. 

Eddie moved forward, hands encompassing your own and flicking the light. “Here,” He murmured. Your gaze fluttered to his, golden light cascading on your gorgeous features. You drew in a long breath, eyes never leaving his own. Your oral fixation could kill a bitch, he’d know. He dropped dead the moment he saw you chewing on that pen cap at the diner. 

“You’re my hero.” You purred the words out like you wanted them to do damage. He huffed out a laugh, plucking the cig from your lips and taking a drag of his own. 

He handed it back to you, a little wet, but he wanted to taste you. Taste that cherry lipstick you wore that was too waxy and sticky. “I always thought I’d look good in armor.” You smile garishly.

“Those hunks of silver on your fingers aren’t armor?” 

“Fuck you, these are gnarly.” He flexes his fingers in front of him, letting them glisten in the moonlight. You both tilt your heads, taking them in.

“Yeah, gnarly looking!” You giggle hysterically as he shoves you. Payback for earlier. 

“Shut up, you love them.” He chuckled, looking at you playfully. But your grin faded, replaced by something subtle, bashful. You nodded, smoke puffing from your lips in a quick cloud. 

You stared at him, honest and big. “I think they’re sexy.” 

He wanted to laugh. Wanted to brush off your comment with something dumb, goofy. But he couldn’t. Maybe it was the amorous music that filled the air or his fading high from earlier, but his brain short circuited. His fingers twitched against his side, itching to dig them into your collar, pulling you forward and crashing your lips together, but he didn’t dare to move. It was just like in his room, but this time the cool of the air was spring dew and the heat of you was coming from the puffs of smoke that left your pretty lips. He didn’t notice how close you were, he never does, until he can smell the mix of nicotine and cherry that comes from your lips. 

You reached forward, hand coming to cup his chin, finger playing with the plump curve of his lower lip. Your nails dug into his jaw in a way that sent minute shocks of pain through his skin, but the slow ease of your thumb toying with the wet flesh of his lip distracted that pain. Eased it some, even. Your gazes never left one another, even as your other hand reached to hold onto the cig, drawing a deep breath before tossing it to the ground. 

And finally— fucking finally— you tilt your head to the side, thumb pulling his lip down to open his mouth slightly, and slot your lips together. He can’t help the shameless moan that leaves his throat at the contact, heart thrumming in his ears and blood feeling like liquid fire. Your plush lips are soft, sweet and a little stale tasting. It’s fucking perfect, and Eddie tangles his fingers in the root of your hair, pressing you deeper, harder against his eager mouth. You whimper some, hand moving down to find purchase on his neck, gripping it in a way that felt possessive and demanding. 

Your lips melded together perfectly, as if they were meant to be in between the other. It was languid and sloppy; all spit and tongue, but then you breathed out the smoke in your lungs, and they filled his own and he jolted in pleasure, hips thrusting into the air and a hot groan leaving his lips. His grip in your hair tightened, his other hand finding your waist and pulling you towards him until your curves molded against his chest. Your mouth was a burning furnace, wet and hot and your teeth were a little sharp but he sucked it all in. Everything you gave him, he took it all. You breathed air into his lungs that felt so empty, like they could never really work unless the oxygen he took in was the withering heat that escaped your lips. 

You bit his bottom lip, pulling it with you as parted for air, a guttural moan leaving Eddie’s chest. You both panted into the others mouths, lips spit slick and swollen red. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” Eddie grinned. His fingers stroked your cheek, skin hot under the touch. His flaming torch. Your cheek pressed into the comfort of his palm, hand rubbing soothing circles into the side of his neck, just beside the adams apple. 

Your words were lust filled and breathy, and he had to stop himself from fucking you right on the hood, under the watchful eye of the moon. “What? Shotgun?” 

He’s already pulling you back towards his lips, smile large on his features. 

“No. Kiss you.”

[grimsneverendingfuneral]

What is the consensus on how Wolfstar and Rosekiller smell (in a not weird way????) 🎤

hhmmmm i love smells. describing smells. when i read a book and there's a whole paragraph on how something smells it just amplifies the scene as a whole to me

i feel like sirius is one of them always smells vaguely like shampoo girlies. yknow the ones that pass by you and you get a wiff of that sort of fragrant clean shampoo smell? thats sirius. and its like some good shit. salon shit. his hair is big, its just thick and full and smells good, always. probably also with a mix of a nice, spicy perfume with notes of bergamot. its definitely not a soft smell, kind of sharp but mixes well with his skin. oh, and also he kind of perpetually smells like leather. like the musk of leather just permeates the air when he's around

remus smells like laundry detergent and cigarette smoke. a bit of tang, maybe a smidge of weed in there, too. he has a woodsy, amber smell. like just think bounce fabric softener sheets. also watermelon gum, obviously. thats just too real to me. like artificial sweetness. he's nice to talk to cause of it

barty wears rich boy cologne like eros by versace and it just doesnt really match with his vibe its like too strong and sexy but after a while it mixes in with his natural scent and its like you can only associate that smell with him. like you get a wiff in public off of someone else but youre thinking oh it smells like barty. its kind of like geranium, cedar, vanilla, mint. i also feel like he smells a little like those sandalwood morningstar incenses like the cheap ones. he likes incense

evan smells like moroccan curl cream. the brand. if you ever get to smell it, you'll understand. its so mmmmm. its very seductive. i think its like coconut and something else? i can't find the other defining scent online but it just smells soft and clean. he uses it for his hair and sometimes just slathers some on his shirt sleeves. there's also a hint of weed to evan and he denies it fully but i just know he's got a roach in his leather satchel that just stanks

[kailspider]

Lil' Theif

(Sam Winchester x Reader)

Prompt: As the Winchester boys and (y/n) travel all over that sometimes leads them to share necessities.

Warnings: mentions of sexual tension/further sexual actions, mentions the smell of cigarretes, partial naked dean and sam?

AN: I think you guys will love this one, i dont know how i got this idea but i knew i had to write about it.

(No one's POV)

Apart of the job is constantly trying to find new work wherever it may take us, this time it was Las Vegas. Sin city always has the whole load case when it comes to the supernatural. We checked into a small motel just across from a Denny's. By the time the hunt was completed we were covered in aches and bruises. Not to mention this demon left behind a horrible odor, worse than usual that soaked into our skin.

As Dean pulled the car around the back of the motel, Sam and (Y/N) waited in the front lobby for him. The smell of cigarettes and the sound of elvis could be heard above us in a tiny speaker attached to the ceiling. The front desk attendant probably assumed we were out of our minds seeing us in our "after- hunt state".

The bell that sat on the door made a jingle sound, signifying someone had walked in. Dean looked exhausted, Sam had offered to drive the remainder of the way but you know how he is with baby.

(Y/N'S POV)

"Dean, what took you so long? i'm starving man"

I said obviously to mess with him. He looked up at me and shot me these daggers in his eyes, I laughed grabbing my backpack along with Sam's since I lost a rock-paper-scissor match in the car. As Sam grabbed the key to the room I started slugging along the heavy backpack, I love the man but damn what did he have in here.

Sam like a little kid ran past me in a gust of wind, then followed by dean who was trying to beat him to the door. Just our luck the motel only had one room left with two beds, so that means for however long we remain here I will be stuck in a room with these two knuckleheads.

I finally made it to the door a few minutes after them, the room was cold and smelled exactly like the lobby. I could hear the shower running already and made eye contact with Dean who was already spread out on the bed closest to the air conditioner. I sighed and dropped the bags on the other bed.

Dean looked up when he heard my loud indicator of exhaustion,

"Chop Chop kid, this is why I don't play that game with Sammy." he laughed and went back to laying down flat.

Now it was my time for staring, I plopped onto the wobbly bed trying to rest my eyes for a quick minute. The shower shut off and that was my cue to lay back against the headboard. I grabbed the tv remote quickly turning it on to find something for background noise.

The white bathroom door opened and the steam was so bad that I could feel the heat sticking to me. The scent of nature, almost pine and sandalwood filled my nostrils immediately. I turned my attention to the big figure standing in the hallway

Sam had walked out in nothing but jeans, no shirt, and a towel for his wet hair. He was moving his hands in a back and forward motion attempting to dry his hair, showing off the muscle definition of his arms and literally everywhere else.

I was trying not to imagine what would've happened if he had forgot his clothes accide- woah snap out of it. I am in love with him but he does not need to know this just yet. I didn't even realize I was staring for so long until i heard a devious laugh from the right side of me.

Of course, someone did take notice. This devil's name was dean. He had noticed almost immediately the trance I was in because of the sight before me. He shot up and quickly ran to the bathroom for his shower turn. Before I could object that I wanted to go first, he had locked the door. Now, it was just me and the half naked Sam.

I won't lie, I am sweating bullets. He not only walked over to my bed where I was spread out, but he also sat down throwing the towel he had to the side and watched whatever the remote landed on. His laughs filled the room at the rom-com on the television, my view was now the muscular and wide back of this man.

As a way to distract myself, I was getting up to gather my clothes from the bag on the floor. I noticed sam had laid back with both hands behind his head. His body was now closer to where I was, giving me a better view and a stronger smell of his wash. It was enchanting, I quickly finished grabbing my clothes and had a plan to bang on the door until dean got out. As I turned to head towards the door, I tripped on dean's bag dropping my graphic t-shirt and underwear onto sam who looked fast asleep.

I mentally wanted to scream and take off out of the room, but it's okay no one saw. I was slowly reaching for my stuff, not even realizing the shower had shut off. I managed to get the shirt but the underwear was on his jean area. I managed to push down my embarrassment and slowly reached for the-

*Bathroom door opens*

"Well, well, well kid. You just couldn't resist yourself while I was in the shower, I can't believe you had the balls to do it first considering sam here-" he was louder than usual and had awoken a napping Sam.

Sam opened his eyes to see his brother in only a towel around his v-line, and his other best friend stopped in motion above his jeans where your underwear had fell. He immediately saw the situation and blushed hurriedly getting up. Grabbing your underwear like it was cursed object and handing it to me.

The only thing that could be heard now was an annoying laughing dean. I immediately made my way to the shower with no words and tried to stay in there forever, but my skin was shriveling so I had to get out. I walked out in actual clothes unlike some of these people, and noticed the winchester boys whispering. I didn't like it, not one bit. The room fell silent and I just looked skeptical at them.

The silence was broken by dean coughing who was now fully dressed,

"this room is truly the life of the party, well I want food so I will go pick something up, you and sam wait here until I get back" he motioned grabbing his keys and sam's wallet. I turned around to watch dean already halfway out the door, he turned back, winked and left.

I HATE HIM. i cannot believe he would do this, I slowly turned back around to stare at the other brother whom was staring at me as well. I laughed awkwardly and made my way to the other bed. The tv was showing the flintstones and somehow I wish i was in tv land and not here.

Sam kept shifting in his seat across the room, then stood up and walked towards me. He stared at me until I had to acknowledge his presence. My eyes slowly moved up his abs and found myself avoiding his gaze.

He cleared his throat,

"(Y/N), when have you ever sat across the room for me. Come sit down with me i'm not going to bite. I mean unless you want me to" he sneered.

This was not my sam. What did dean do to him? Could he have told sam about my crush?

Sam was still staring at me waiting for an answer, I looked up and said,

"Well why don't you come lay over here? effort goes two ways you know"

Wrong choice of words. All of a sudden his big frame was crawling over me to get to the other side. The bed dipped causing me to roll more to the left than I'd like causing me to meet into his side. I moved quickly back to my resting state, with now sam at my side.

Awkward silence filled the space between us, it was never like this. He's my best friend and I couldn't believe how nervous I was. I placed my hands to the side of my body so I could relax a little but found my hand touching his at an angle I didn't dare to look at. I moved my hand away but all of a sudden felt him put it back down to where it was.

When I turned to say something, Sam had been staring at me for I don't know how long. As in an affection stare, but he couldn't right? until he confirmed it,

"how are you so beautiful, when you're so nervous princess" he said softly as if he only wanted my ears in the entire world to hear it.

My ears turned crimson red, along with my cheeks, not to mention my heart jumping to a sky high limit. I didn't believe a thing I just heard. I didn't want to face him so I looked away but was stopped by a large hand turning me back around to face him once again. He leaned in real close when it looked like he took a deep whiff of the air surrounding him.

He had searched for the smell, but couldn't place it. He picked up a strand of my hair and it was like a slot machine winning. He smirked slightly and motioned my head closer to him,

I bent down and heard him say,

"You're a lil thief you know that? using my favorite shampoo and conditioner. I never thought I would be so attracted to this scent on someone else." he said in a very husky voice.

I was in complete silence, so many things ran through my head at once. I decided to play along before I chickened out, I bent my head at a slight angle to stare him in the face. Sam had beat me to it once again,

"From now on, only you are allowed to use my bathroom essentials, and when you do so I want you to wear my clothes to bed only. Got it?" he said waiting for a response.

I nodded my head in a quick reassurance. We both were having fun with this new feeling we both discovered together. I spoke up finally,

"How much time do you think we have before dean gets back?"

[r0-boat]

The Oc Boy's canon scents

( for candle, and cologne lovers)

Silas

oak, lavender and sage with a hint of bergamot.

Despite his scent being very bold, it has a gentle undertone that leaves you wanting being very bold it has a soft and calming undertone that leaves you wanting more.

Oliver

Maple, bourbon with apple and a hint of coffee.

Deep and rich, strong yet sweet. The Maple and bourbon is definitely one bold kick, it definitely gets your attention, and you're rewarded with the soothing smell of apple. The coffee is because he drinks just so much of it.

Cole

Sandalwood, leather and amber, with something floral

This probably would just be his old cologne mixed in with the natural smell of the forest.

Zero

Cashmere wood and honey, with floral(hibiscus) or citrus, maybe lemongrass

Honey, bc bee goes brrrrrr. For citrus, someone said lemon, which I thought was a good fit. The cashmere wood is not very strong. Actually, his scent, in general, is not strong but still noticeable. Very comforting and can probably put you to sleep.

Noah

Mahogany, coconut. Or coconut lime. Or hibiscus, Lotus and vanilla. I can definitely see sea salt as well

Like his fashion choices, he doesn't particularly care how masculine or feminine he appears. If he likes the scent, he's going to use it. Noah prefers more tropical scents that remind him of the ocean.

Salem

Cherry, almond, with rose and vanilla.

Sweet delicious, and subtle, you crave to be around him. he may look scary, but his fragrance tells a different story. He has you hooked on his cologne alone, only for him the mysteriously vanish without notifying you. Don't worry; He always comes back.

Bonus Side characters!

Holt

Leather, Amber, driftwood, with more Woody or Smoky scents, I can see bourbon too.( more so because he drinks it lol)

Very strong you can smell him before he enters a room. Probably uses his cologne to mask the cigarette smoke, or alcohol if he recently drank.

Luca

Cedarwood, tonka, with lavender and other more softer floral scents

Luca uses the same cologne, very loyal to certain brands. He prefers softer, more elegant scents. He doesn't use too much. He just wants to smell nice, not catch attention or be overwhelming. Unfortunately, with a man that looks like prince charming out of a storybook with a smell so seductive and regal, he is bound to get head turns.

[pa-stella]

since I'll ask for 3 people for the hc ask game I'll only ask 2 questions!

BAT with 7 and 8!! (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

Tofi!!! ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

7 - What do they do when they're bored, just to pass time?

Kuko: He probably hides somewhere in the temple or the garden because he knows that if Shakku sees him doing nothing or complaining about being bored, he'd totally force him to do some kind of chore. After finding a good hiding spot, he listens to music and draws (and maybe bothers Jyushi with a text or two).

Jyushi: In addiction to playing games of his phone, he likes to try new combinations of clothes for his outfits and take pics of them. Also, he does that thing the sims do and talks in front of the mirror/to Amanda to gain more confidence.

Hitoya: Does he even have time to feel bored?? This headcanon is based on a few friends of mine: he lights a cigarette, closes his eyes and enjoys that short moment of quiet/boredom OR he reads a good thriller book.

8 - What's their favorite shampoo/soap smell? Do they ever mention this to other people?

Kuko: He likes anything that smells fresh and clean. Absolutely nothing too strong. He used to pick a random shampoo at the supermarket until Jyushi bought him a special one full of essentials oils and specific for red hair. He will never admit it, but he loves it.

Jyushi: He takes care of his hair and he regularly goes to the hair salon where he buys his shampoo too. It smells of vanilla and shea butter. At the salon, he also buys his sour-cherry hairspray. He likes to use Lush soaps and bath bombs (the latter because they're cute). He definitely talks a lot about what products he uses if somebody asks for advice or compliments his hair.

Hitoya: I once talked about Hitoya's fragrance, but speaking of soap or shower gel... VETIVER. Vetiver, sandalwood and verbena. Maybe bergamot too. Due to his natural hair colour, he uses a gray/light hair specific shampoo from time to time. It smells of lavender. It leaves violet stains in his bathtub. He hates it. But his hair is always super soft and bright.

[henrysfedora]

I have always been in love with leo and his beige coat on his shoulders as drawn on his cigarette card in mde. he's so classy. I like to think that's his own jacket, but what if leo wore a lot of frank's jackets on his shoulders too. they're definitely too big for him but he swooshes and sways and he's warm <3 and they smell like frank's cologne so it's even better.

I always find it fascinating to think what cologne all the guys would wear: leo looks like he'd smell like roses or lavender or smth. frank, pine, sandalwood.

henry would smell like vanilla like the vanilla bitch he is, or something earthy, fucking sandalwood bitch ass. or like an iris flower scent and he'd be smokey too... he also looks like he'd smell like liquorice... and not red liquorice, black liquorice, do not ask he just does idk why.

vito, always leathery and smokey. I'm not sure what he would choose for himself, soap and whatever conditioner he used.

joe IS the lush store, with a hint of smoke.

[iomadachd]

👃 : Does your OC smell good? Do they have a signature scent?

For my top two faves. My two moods of ur ocs. I kno.

🔥 Piping Hot OC Asks 🔥(accepting)

I've got headcanons for the cologne and perfume that they individually wear. They definitely smell good with what they wear.

Adramalech wears Tobacco Vanille by Tom Ford.

Leila wears Good Girl by Carolina Herrera.

After that, it becomes a little more dependent on personal tastes.

Adramalech without cologne smells of sulfur, ozone, and petrichor, but if he's really working to conceal the sulfur, then it's more of a smoky smell, like a wildfire.

Leila without perfume often smells of sweet pea or bergamot from her lotions and clove from her cigarettes with an underlying scent at her core that's a bit hard to pin down. Human pheromones and the faintest whiff of sulfur.

Ghost!verse specific:

Leila smells completely different as a member of the Abbey. She wears Love's Baby Soft perfume.

Top Notes: Lemon Leaf, Orange Mid Notes: Lily of the Valley, Jasmine, Rose Base Notes: Sandalwood, Vanilla, Powdery, Creamy Musk

Her core scent is again that faintest whiff of sulfur, stronger when she's using her powers, along with something sweet and smoky.

[wall-maria-fritz]

Hii, I was wondering if I could get some random headcanons for Erwin, Miche, and Reiner plsss

The Big Blonde Boys

Random Headcannons for Erwin, Miche, and Reiner

Warnings: S4 Spoilers!

I will also be touching on slight smut but nothing graphic.

I really went ham on this one.

Scribblings MASTERLIST

Erwin Smith

· Erwin is a hopeless sweet tooth. He loves strawberries and custards most especially.

· I’m convinced that Erwin Smith has what Wall Marians would say is a “refined” accent. Seeing how cultured and charming Erwin can be, he probably came from a considerably well off family.

· Erwin may have inherited his curiosity and innate genius from his father, but his charm and natural capacity for leadership? He got that from his mother, alright! I imagine his mother was very clever woman who could’ve hailed from minor nobility. I won’t be surprised if she held a few local government positions over the years.

· It’s a hoot to think about, knowing how blessed Erwin is with social graces, but he’s a terrible dancer! His mother has tried to make him work on his waltzes and quadrilles growing up, but poor Erwin just can’t get rid of his two left feet.

· Erwin loves mystery novels! Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie is a particular favorite of his. His love for mystery really honed his problem-solving skills as a child. His father was almost convinced he’d grow up to be a detective.

· You didn’t hear this from me but… Erwin may or may not have written a poem or two for Marie before. He likely never sent it, but it’s there. Hidden away in some old forgotten journal from forever ago. Marie would be the only women he’s ever written a poem for.

It was entitled, “If I Dare Say What I Think.”

· Sandalwood is his preferred scent.

· This man has a worrisome coffee addiction. It’s probably borne out of late nights endlessly mulling over the Scouting Legion’s survival.

· His favorite season is autumn. During then, he allows himself to grow a beard and feel all warm and cozy with it.

· I like to think Erwin has an older brother who’s just as handsome and charming as he is. Except, this Smith gets to take jabs at and mess with his baby brother (this is suuper self-indulgent, I know. But imagine it.)

· In his younger years, the Commander was a formidable ladies man. Sure he still is, but he was far more self-indulgent back in his cadet days.

· Erwin’s an excellent pianist. It’s one of the skills his parents insisted he learned, and it has turned into a form of therapy for him on his days off. His favorite piece is Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy.

· If he ever did go to university, Erwin would definitely be a fraternity president. We’d deadass go all Elle Woods on him. Don’t lie.

· Growing up, Erwin would often go sledding and playing hockey with his dad and brother.

· He likes to work out in the dead of the night, especially when stressed. Seeing him drenched in sweat and lifting weights at 4am is no rare sight. It’s really the only time he’s found in order to keep in shape, and it’s so much more peaceful to do it when everyone else is sleeping.

· He prefers scotch over brandy.

· On particularly difficult days, Erwin allows himself a cigarette. He doesn’t indulge himself as much as he did during his cadet days, though. (Each time done away from his commanding officer’s sight, of course.) He’s aware that the vice does him no favors.

· It certainly isn’t beyond the Commander to flirt with the ladies of nobility if it meant a guarantee on Legion funding. And oh, how thoroughly does Commander Erwin leave these women smitten.

Miche Zacharias

· This man adores horses. In fact, he works with them so much, that he tends to close off the day smelling as musky as them, you know? All I’m saying is, from all the physical exertions Miche does to care for the beasts, he just ends up smelling very much like a working man.

· Miche Zacharias is a lecherous dog. He’s probably fucked half the town at this point, and he can care less whether or not you know of this reputation. In his eyes, he’s a man with natural urges, and as such takes care of said urges. That’s it. He never sleeps with fellow soldiers, though. Preferring the village ladies and a visit to the brothel or two.

· He’s definitely a favorite client at brothels.

· I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s fathered a child or two along his many err… escapades. Besides, he can smell when a woman is ovulating.

· Secretly, his beard is a sense of pride and joy for him. He takes great care to maintain it.

· Miche has a very provincial drawl to his accent. I suspect he comes from a family of hunters and farmers, much like Sasha’s background. His knack for sniffing out animals (and now titans) probably came in handy when hunting back then.

· Miche is clearly very athletic, and he’s pretty much played every sport out there. But he especially enjoys soccer and football.

· Believe it or not, Miche is capable of delivering a baby! His experience with helping mares deliver their calf, as well as assisting his mother one time when no one else but him could help her give birth to his sister, told him just what to do.

· Miche probably has a whole gaggle of sisters, with him being the only boy in the family.

· Miche HATES cleaning and greasing his gear. His big fingers aren’t very ideal for handling small bits and bobs, as well as the fact that his hands are just rough in nature. Having to be careful and gentle is a real struggle for him, and he used to pass on his 3DMG upkeep to Erwin as a cadet if he can help it. Nowadays, Nanaba does the job for him. Bless her.

· When he’s drunk, he sings.

· When’s absolutely wrecked he yodels.

· He used to play cowboy a lot as a child.

· Miche is huge meat eater. He makes a mean roast too! He often takes up roasting and grilling duties on the rare Scouting Legion celebrations. Miche is honestly a wonderful cook.

· Miche is a heavy smoker. He was likely the one who influenced Erwin to start smoking as cadets.

· Miche primarily entered the military to support his sisters. But when his parents found out he joined the Scouts, they were upset for a time. But thanks to his sisters, Mr. and Mrs. Zacharias have come around to accept their son’s choice.

· Miche likes his women full and curvy. Do NOT make him choose between tits or ass. Just don’t. Erwin found out the hard way not to when they went out drinking once. Don’t.

· He wears briefs instead of boxers, and definitely sleeps naked.

· Miche loves to go camping. He’s at home in the great outdoors, and anyways, there ain’t no doorways for him to duck under and still bump his head at in the wilderness.

· When not in uniform, he likes to wear his thick flannels.

· Chopping wood is his anger management therapy.

· He has such a high alcohol tolerance. Beer is to Miche as coffee is to Erwin. In fact he’d drink this as a night cap.

· He’s a casual guitar player.

· When he first saw Erwin in his cadet class, he thought he was a “stuck up bitch boy.”

· Levi is “str0ngbw0i”

· He’s surprisingly good friends with Hanji! He can actually tolerate her prattling. He’s a patient man.

· Get this, Miche is actually a fine gardener. Erwin and Levi recently found out that the flowers he’d give his women are ones he’s grown himself. Erwin and Levi would never tell him they know, though.

Reiner Braun

· A shameless flirt, but you could already guess that.

· An excellent chess player!

· He may be a beefcake, but he’s relatively well read. He spends his off time reading strategy and philosophy books. Sun Tzu’s The Art of War is a favorite.

· This man definitely enjoys football. He may have also played baseball with Zeke before.

· Reiner’s a terrific dancer. He often hits on girls by asking them to dance, then sweeping them off their feet.

· Reiner is also a fine guitarist. (Although he only really picked up the instrument to impress girls.)

· Honestly? Reiner is hilarious! His dates love his sense of humor.

· Reiner is also very protective by nature. It’s likely why the 104th sees him like an older brother. But more so with girls, he’s very gentlemanly towards them, and ensure that they are cared for.

· Reiner has a thing for tiny women. He likes the especially delicate-looking ones; like dolls.

· Reiner definitely has that fuckboy-lip-bite-look when he’s flirting and drunk.

· As a child, Reiner wanted to be an actor. This is thanks to all the theatrical plays his mother takes him to.

· He sings well too! He’s a bass.

· In his most casual clothes, Reiner likes to wear tank tops and muscle tees.

· In his most private thoughts, Reiner has entertained dreams about having children more than once. But he promptly brushes these aside. No time for that with a mission to complete.

· For Reiner Braun, the way to his heart is indeed through his stomach. He loves it when a girl cooks for him.

· I imagine that his mother was once a baker, and so taught her son how to bake as well. Reiner can make a pretty decent cheesecake.

· This big guy has a fear of clowns. You can imagine how much of a handful he must be whenever he’d see a clown in a Marleyan festival as a child.

· Reiner is actually good at debates! He can be very persuasive, and can easily win arguments.

· He and Bertholdt would nerd out over comics in the middle of the night. It’s why they chose adjacent bunks. Jean would call them fanboys, Reiner calls him an “uncultured swine.”

· Reiner spends like, 20 minutes doing his hair in the morning.

· Citrus and Spice are his preferred scents.

· Reiner was a very hyperactive little boy, and so accumulated a lot of scars caused by childhood stupidity. Like that one scar near his hairline above his temple, from when he tried “flying” off a flight of stairs as a 5 year old.

· He’s a good shot.

· Reiner would 100% play Dungeons and Dragons if he could.

· He loves dogs, especially the big breeds! He had a pet mastiff named Lady as a child.

· As a little boy, he had a bear named Mr. Snuggles that he carried around everywhere he went.

· When he was training to be a warrior, he probably had a puppy crush on Pieck. All that changed of course when he returned from Paradise.

Accepting requests! Here are the rules.

[yuk1-tsukumo]

what jujutsu kaisen characters smell like ✧･ﾟ: * [sfw]

a/n: hello! this is a part two, and i don't think i'll be adding anything else to it, so... this is it! part 1 is here <3 enjoy !!!!

w/c: 575

kento nanami

three words to describe nanami's cologne of choice: it's sophisticated, sexy & classic

probably something woody, musky or spicy, maybe even a hint of floral (?)

black pepper, sandalwood, bergamot, rose, cinnamon, african orange flower, cypress, cedar... that kind of thing

tom ford is a name that instantly came to mind

the other one i thought of was caron—they made the first-ever fragrance marketed for men, back in 1934

now that's what i call classic

what he goes for is definitely expensive as well, but he's willing to pay the price for a fragrance that's high quality but also tried, tested & true

satoru gojo

i feel like he has a few different colognes & he just chooses depending the occasion (?)

i can think of two scents for him

i don't want to say acqua di gio, because it's SO common, but.... something like that, for sure

he smells like the sea, in that wealthy italian man way i said yūji didn't

the other one that comes to mind is more what people expect of him

i'm talking about bleu de chanel, specifically

it has citrus notes, like acqua di gio, but it's woodier & spicier

he probably also uses way too much, every single time

rip to the poor souls who've ever had to sit next to him during flights

toji fushiguro

i really hate the term but "macho-man" is what came to mind

leather, spice, tobacco, wood, booze and musk

toji highkey smells like a dingy, gnarly, dark dive bar

but make it sexy

yuki tsukumo

being totally honest, yuki and perfume isn't that great of a combo

i mean, think about it for a moment! she travels by motorcycle, it probably doesn't even last on her

but for the sake of this post and my fantasy, let's ignore that

i actually think her scent of choice would be quite similar to what i headcanon toji's to be, so, something woody and/or leather-y

it's not nearly as harsh, though

her perfume (or cologne—i could totally see her buying a men's fragrance!) has oranges or some kind of citrus in it, too

overall, not the scent traditionally marketed and/or associated with women, but it's cool as hell and unique like her <3

oh! she also has the smell of motorcycle oil lingering around her, obviously

suguru geto

i feel like he prefers very earthy and green scents, but also a bit aquatic

a fragrance with ingredients such as moss, petrichor, fern, vetiver, fir, patchouli, and geosmin

he really does smell like earth or soil after it has rained

another scent that i associate with him is green tea

shoko ieiri

as a friend kindly pointed out, shoko most likely smells like rubbing alcohol and bleach

since she's a doctor

she would also smell like cigarette smoke, now that i think about it

but, as with yuki, i will pretend i don't know this (◡‿◡)

we know shoko isn't a frilly person at all and i think her perfume would reflect it

for some reason, i instantly thought of light blue from d&g

its bottle is minimalistic & the ingredients, i think, feel airy

(the notes are sicilian lemon, apple, cedar; bamboo, jasmine, white rose; amber and musk)

my friend thought of be delicious from dkny and honestly, yeah, i can see it!

(notes are cucumber, grapefruit, magnolia; green apple, flowers such as rose and lily; and woodsy notes, sandalwood and amber)

[thusspoketrish]

An Elegy to Bad Dreams

This was written with love for the prompt Saviour Complex over @drarrymicrofic. I'm a HUGE Phoebe Bridgers fan. I appreciate anyone who takes the time out to read this fic (2.6K words). Thank you to @opaleopioid for the very thorough beta! Please mind the tags. TW for alcoholism, brief break up, mean voicemail messages, very brief mentions of vomiting, eventual rehab.

The day after Harry abruptly disappears from Draco’s bed, the morning light creeping into the bedroom like a looming bad omen, Draco decides to toss Harry’s belongings into a rubbish bag. All of it, even his socks.

“I want everything of his out of here,” says Draco, spirals of cigarette smoke escaping his chapped, pale pink lips as he holds his mobile against his ear. Draco empties Harry’s precious bottles, a sick satisfaction overcoming him as he watches the clear liquid swirl down the drain of his kitchen sink, an even sicker pleasure when he tosses the bottles into the bag that contains most of Harry’s trainers. He stares out the bay window of his flat that overlooks the front garden, the rubbish bins, and the winding road where three black rubbish bags now sit on the pavement.

Pansy’s teeny voice is on the other end.

“Good riddance,” responds Pansy with relief, as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. Draco blows out more smoke. He bites his lower lip as he blinks back tears, his gaze focused outside the window, on all of Harry’s life with Draco in three sagging bags. For one terrifying moment, he believes he’s made an enormous mistake.

Draco’s voice cracks, “Pansy—”

“Good riddance,” is Pansy’s firm affirmation of the day.

Draco nods, swallowing down his regret as he tries to collect the scattered pieces of himself strewn across the room. These Muggle gadgets are a gift. Draco might be falling apart, but at least Pansy doesn’t have to both hear and see it.

Such small mercies.

---

Later that day, after waking from a sweaty, feverish nap, Draco’s landlord calls him to complain about the shattered glass bottles littered across the front garden— “It’s dangerous. Any innocent person walking by could get hurt from this sort of recklessness!”

Draco apologises, and cleans the mess Harry left behind the Muggle way. He slices his finger open in the process, the concrete and grass greedily eating up his blood. Draco watches this with a morbid curiosity, a peculiar sense of familiarity washing over him. It’s a good thing that all three of Harry’s bags are gone, Harry was eating away—those horrid bags were an eyesore.

---

Harry’s voice is a thin, fraught string of slurry sounds that barely form words. But Draco’s so used to his manner of speech now that he only plays the voicemail once.

“D’you…d’you remember, when I saved you from the fire? I do. I should’ve let you burn.”

Once is definitely enough.

---

Draco holds Harry’s pillow to his chest before lifting it to his face with the intention to scream into it, but he recoils immediately after catching a whiff. It used to smell like sandalwood and jasmine from Harry’s shampoo and aftershave. Like sex and sweat. Like all things good, and strength, and love eternal. Like all of Draco’s favourite things about Harry. Now, the pillow smells like the sharp gut-wrenching scent of diluted ethanol. Like vomit and rotten apples. Like anger, and weakness, and misery. These are now a few of Harry’s favourite things. Draco drops the pillow to the floor.

When Draco checks his voicemail, Harry’s sobbing this time.

A burst of shame explodes in the middle of Draco’s chest and overwhelms him as he nearly drops his phone, replaying the message over, and over, and over.

“I just can’t live without it—I mean, you. You! I can’t live without you. I’m sorry. Please, please help me. I can’t do this without you. If you can’t help me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

---

Draco would hold Harry through nightmares he refused to talk about. After so many nights, Draco was able to gather that there were demons from the war that chased Harry during the day, and tortured him at night, sprawled across the bed, passed out drunk, whimpering and thrashing in his sleep. In Harry’s dreams, someone was always chasing him; someone was always trying to kill him; someone was always taking away the people he loves. Harry would beg and plead with this entity in his sleep over, and over, and over, until he’d spit up, fully waking Draco so he could push Harry onto his side, and let him spew his torment onto the floor rather than asphyxiate from it.

Sometimes...sometimes...Draco wanted Harry to asphyxiate.

---

Everyone has closed their doors to Harry, now.

There’s so much city traffic in the background, Draco strains to hear Harry as he plays the latest voicemail. Harry’s voice isn’t any better today, and as Draco stares out his window, the sun drops low on the horizon, deep red-orange and bright yellow ready to give way to indigo and dark pink.

Draco hopes that Harry’s warm.

“I wish I were a real person. Not this half of a thing—a—thing—that’s—I’m fading—I’m just—a faded memory. I-I’m not even real. I’m not even here.”

Draco plays the message two more times before he slips his jacket on. It wouldn’t hurt to walk around the neighbourhood. For fresh air, that’s all. He grabs a spare jacket, twisting it between both hands as he heads out the front door.

Just in case.

---

Draco wants to hate him.

Several months ago, after Harry drunkenly crashed his broom into a Muggle’s front window, earning a leave of absence from the Aurors and a hefty fine from the Ministry, they walked hand-in-hand into a Muggle private treatment facility in Islington.

Draco packed some of Harry’s clothes in a suitcase, locked his wand up safely, and placed a picture of them, of happier days, at the very top of his belongings. Draco hadn’t given up on Harry like his friends and family had, no, he had held on. In the very beginning of their relationship, Harry’s wildness and recklessness drew Draco in like a moth to a flame. Watching this new lease on life in Harry Potter sparked vitality in Draco’s otherwise mundane existence. When he realised how deep Harry’s troubles ran, it was much too late to back out of their relationship. Draco was in love with him, and was determined to do what others couldn’t or wouldn’t do—fix Harry. Draco was finally going to do it this time, and was finally going to get Harry the help he needed. Hope flowed like a spring in Draco’s chest as he beamed at Harry and whispered words of encouragement in his ear.

It didn’t matter that Harry couldn’t share his demons with Draco.

If not Draco, then anyone else, anyone who would listen. All Draco wanted was for Harry to share his pain with someone. Draco could live with not being the one, if it meant he could save Harry from whatever death sentence he’d lulled himself into believing he owed.

They checked Harry into the facility. Draco had cried as he hugged Harry goodbye. It would be several weeks until they’d see each other again.

Harry called Draco that same night, rousing him from a peaceful sleep.

When Draco answered his ringing mobile, Harry urged him to the front of the flat. Now standing in front of his bay window, Draco watched as Harry, a bottle in hand, swayed on his feet and bellowed into his mobile.

“I’m scared, Draco…please! I couldn’t do it. They’re…they’re always watching me, no matter how much I run from them, they’re always following me, and I’m so tired, love. I’m so tired of running, please. I couldn’t do it; they’re going to destroy my life. Destroy us. Not like this, not like this, okay?” said Harry, nonsensical, his words a backhanded slap across Draco’s face. “Please let me up. Please, Draco. Please help me. Just. Help me different. I love you so much.”

There was an unbearable churning in the pit of Draco’s stomach as he breathed out slowly, trembling. Harry stared up at him, gesticulating wildly with the bottle in hand.

Draco did hate Harry.

Draco hated him every single time that prickling sense of failure erupted across his skin when he looked into Harry’s unfocused green eyes, dull and listless, or when Harry was ranting illogically, or when Draco picked him up from off the floor, covered in his own vomit to lead him to the shower, or when he had to force feed him, or ply him with hangover potions every morning, or when Draco has to answer the call of a pregnant, devastated Hermione and an angry Ron, both begging Draco to come get Harry who was screaming down their flat. Ranting, raving, always about the demons that chased him, but never elaborating, never letting anyone in.

When Harry was brave, the world’s saviour, he was a force to be reckoned with, a hero that won each battle at the end of the day.

Draco was not like Harry. He wasn’t strong or smart enough to save someone who didn’t want to be saved.

But even knowing all of this, knowing what would come next, and would continue to come afterwards, Draco let Harry slip back in.

---

“I hate myself more than I’ll ever hate you,” whispers Harry. “Will you love me when I’m dead, too? Will it make you love me more?”

Draco flinches, equal parts shame and terror ripping him open like Sectumsempra. He numbly deletes the message.

---

Harry’s voice is a burst of fury in the last message Draco ever plays.

“You ruined me! You left me...you left me to the fucking dogs, the fucking streets! You never loved me...you never...you...you...were supposed to save me, save me like I saved you...you selfish fuck...”

Draco stops listening to Harry’s messages after that. The message nearly sends him into a spiral, the bottom of a bottle suddenly sounding appealing. Draco reaches out to his friends, and it’s Hermione and Ron that steps up, embraces him, and tells him he’s doing his best, that none of this is his fault, and he has to let Harry find his own way. Before Draco knows it, Harry’s voicemails stop coming. A month passes and no one has seen or heard from Harry, not even his best mates.

Draco walks the entire neighbourhood, every day, pausing at Harry’s favourite pubs, peering inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of his wild, jet-black cowlicks. The streets are grey and cold, colder still are Draco’s insides as he starts to fear that he’ll never see Harry again, that...

That Harry might actually be dead.

Wouldn’t there be an outcry? Wouldn’t the Magical community know? Wouldn’t Draco feel his passing in the very depths of his bones?

He knows he would, he knows he would feel it, convinces himself of it, even as he curls into a tiny ball in the middle of his and Harry’s bed, sobs wracking his body from the depths of his loss.

---

Hermione has her baby.

Draco visits St Mungo’s with flowers and a teddy bear. Harry would’ve wanted Draco to be there in his stead on such a beautiful, important day for his best mates.

Hermione cries when she sees him, hugging Draco tightly, Harry’s absence starkly felt in a room brimming with so much love and new life. Draco peers down at the baby, guileless dark eyes peering up at him, tiny rosebud lips pouty. Harry should be here to see this beautiful creation.

The small hospital room is bursting to the brim with the Weasley family, and soon Draco finds himself tucked away in a far corner, out of place, even as Ron smiles warmly at him, his hands tossing up in a humorous, dazed sort of manner from across the room. A small smile tugs at Draco’s lips as he shrugs back. Draco’s distracted from the exchange and general chaos of the room by the vibration of his mobile. He pulls it free from his pocket, not recognising the number that flashes across the tiny screen. He hurries out of the room, the cool air of St Mungo’s hallway rushing past him as he leans against a wall painted with colourful images of baby magical creatures.

Draco flips his mobile open, pressing it against his ear. “Hello?”

There’s a long pause before a familiar voice warms Draco’s entire body. “Christ, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

Draco’s head falls back against the wall, his knees weak as he slides down the wall until he’s on his bum, his knees drawn up to his chest. His breathing is strenuous. “Harry?”

Harry chuckles and Draco can hear the tears in it. “Yeah, yeah, it’s me, Draco. Christ, I’ve missed you so much—”

“Where-where the hell have you been? Do you know what I’ve—what we’ve all been—”

“—I know, I know. I’m so sorry. I was afraid if I contacted you about this, I wouldn’t have gone through with it. I’m in a Muggle treatment facility in Kent, and have been for almost a month now. I just earned my phone privileges. Did-did the baby come? I know it’s not due for a few days, but Hermione’s never been the most patient person and I bet that extends to her child.” Harry’s laugh is sweet. Overwhelmingly sweet.

Draco laughs, too, before he breaks into several little sniffles, “Yes…you’re right on time, actually. She had the baby today.”

“No way!” exclaims Harry. “I knew it…I had a feeling, and I knew you’d…can you…can you tell me anything about the baby?”

“She’s beautiful,” whispers Draco, shaking his head as his eyes burn and his throat constricts. “She’s going to have Hermione’s hair, for sure, and Ron’s freckles. Her name is Rose.”

“Rose…Christ, I wish I could be there,” says Harry wistfully.

Draco whimpers. “I wish you were here, too. Merlin. Harry, I’m so sorry…”

“No. Don’t be. You did nothing wrong. This was—this was all me. You tried so hard to help me. It was me, okay? Nothing would’ve changed until I decided I wanted to change, so don’t—don’t you apologise for anything. Ever. If you hadn’t put me out, I would have continued to drag you down, and slowly kill myself.”

Draco wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, his lips trembling. “I miss you, every single day.”

“I know, babe.”

Draco squeezes his eyes shut. “I couldn't continue listening to the messages.”

Harry’s voice is soft, careful, as he says, “I’m glad you stopped. They weren’t right. It wasn’t right to do that to you, and I hope you can one day forgive me.”

Draco swallows, his heart in his throat. “Already forgiven.”

Harry says slowly, “I wanted to ask you about something kind of important. See, there’s this meeting for-for loved ones coming up in a couple of days…and I was wondering, would you come? For me, as my partner? I know…I know I’ve been awful, Draco, I’m so sorry. But it would mean the world to me if you could—”

“—Yes,” gasps Draco, sitting up straight, a rush of excitement and happiness flooding him. “Of course, I—I’m so proud of you—”

Harry exhales messily, the sound both jarring and cleansing to Draco’s ears. “I’m…thank you. Thank you for saying that, and, I’m so excited to see you, thank you for giving me...for agreeing. I can text you the address and room number. It’s this Wednesday at noon.”

Draco blinks up at the ceiling, trying to calm his quivering body. “I’ll be there. I promise.”

Harry’s laugh is light. “Thank you.”

Draco’s smile is wobbly as he opens his mouth to say the words, the words that he’s been desperate to say for a month now, but he couldn’t, out of fear that they would never reach Harry, the weight of that possibility too unbearable.

And what if it’s too soon? Maybe Harry’s not ready. Maybe this will all go to pot and Draco will be back at square one with Harry. Maybe—

“Hey, Draco?” interrupts Harry.

Draco clears his throats, his cartwheeling thoughts diminishing like a curl of smoke. “Yes?”

“I love you. Thank you…thank you for not giving up on me,” says Harry, gently.

Draco’s hand covers his face, the hot slide of tears on his flushed cheeks. “I love you too, Harry. Always. Always. Always.”