#Traditional bathroom deals

[mortemcatabasis]

Repainted pencil tin 4 my bag

[smileysuh]

night terror

🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. As much as you love being a mother, you think some of your favorite moments might just happen when the kids are asleep. Seeing Seungcheol with Hana and Daehyun is one of the great joys of your life, but you have needs too, and after a long day, you really need something to help you relax.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex, dirty talk, praise, fingering, blow job, deep throating, mentions of masochism, loud sex, your kid hearing you scream during sex and then your husband lies to her and says it's night terrors when really it's him - he's the night terror, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.2k

🍭 aus. rich businessman cheol, husband cheol, established relationship, father cheol, stay at home mom reader, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. i need a rich husband sugar daddy and i need him now

There had been a time in his life when Seungcheol had thought he might never settle down. As a busy businessman, he’d never been able to comprehend how it would be possible to factor a wife - let alone children - into his schedule. But then, one summer afternoon, he’d met you, and all his fears had vanished.

His previous relationships had been marred with accusations about his lack of making time, and he’d been ready to repeat the same issues with you. However, the conflicts never came. You were a strong, capable, young woman, and as the first months of you flew by blissfully, Seungcheol had realized you accepted him for him, work and all. If anything, distance made the heart grow fonder, and when you were together, you both gave each other your complete attention, nurturing the relationship in a way that he’d never had a relationship truly nurtured before. 

Six months in, he’d asked you to marry him, and it was the most confident he’d ever been with a decision in his entire life. When you’d gotten pregnant, only a short while after your honeymoon, the two of you had sat down to discuss what being parents would look like. You’d both been committed to giving your children the best lives possible going forward, and - knowing he’d be around less than a dad with a different, less demanding job - Seungcheol had asked if you’d be interested in the stay-at-home life.

It’s been five years since then, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where Seungcheol has questioned his decisions with you. He comes home at erratic times in the evening, but he always finds you excelling at motherhood. 

He truly doesn’t know how you do it and make it look easy. You have such a gentle way with not only the kids, but him as well, and he almost feels as if you were meant for this role. You’re a caregiver, through and through, and Seungcheol thinks he must be one of the luckiest men in the whole world to be able to fulfill the provider counterpart. 

It’s a Monday evening, and he’s managed to get off work early. When he arrives at your large family home, he follows the sound of giggles to the kitchen. This room has been the heart of your house ever since the kids were old enough to follow you around it like ducklings, watching you cook with eyes full of wonder - he thinks they must get that trait from him at least. 

He leans against the wall while he watches you, taking in the vision in front of him. It’s mac and cheese night, a long-held tradition in your household, wherein you help the kids make the base, and allow them to choose their favorite toppings to go in the ramekins before oven baking. 

The elder of your children, Daehyun, is more adventurous, and it looks like you’re helping him saute a pan of mushrooms on the gas stove top. Even while dealing with the hot element, and a little boy grabbing at your apron while teetering on his cooking step stool, you’re giving just as much attention to your youngest. 

Hana is the apple of Seungcheol’s eye, and - bless her heart - she’s a cheese fiend. There must be five different kinds of cheese on the counter, and you’re softly talking to her while she struggles to grate a small block of what looks to be gruyere. 

“You’re doing so well,” you tell your daughter. “Give mommy just a moment and she’ll help you grate the last of it. I don’t want you hurting your hands.”

“Okay, mama,” Hana nods, setting the cheese down before leaning over to watch you stir the pan. 

“Do you want to try a mushroom, sweetheart?” you ask, picking one out of the pan to taste for yourself. “They’re very good.”

Hana’s always been better at trying new things if you or Seungcheol go first, and the businessman finds himself smiling while he watches the soft moment.

“Okay,” Hana says, but she doesn’t sound too sure. 

“It’s a little hot, so I’m going to put it on the cutting board to cool before either of you taste it, okay?” You lift a few mushrooms from the sizzling pan, setting them down and gently blowing away the steam. “Let me know if these are good, Daehyun, or if you’d like me to cook them a little longer to make them more crispy.”

The three of you are so wrapped up in your own little world, and Seungcheol supposes the soft classical music in the background had drowned out the sound of his footfalls as he’d approached. He decides it’s a good time to make his presence known, so he moves into the room, coming to stand on the other side of the island countertop.

“Look at you three chefs,” he muses.

“Daddy!” His children scream, with Daehyun jumping from his stool to run around the table and hug Seungcheol around the waist. Hana, meanwhile, still needs help getting down from the steps, and Seungcheol watches you lift the small child to set her on the floor so she can join her brother on the other side of Seungcheol. 

“It smells good,” Seungcheol tells you, smiling at you as he rubs the backs of his children.

“We were just trying mushrooms!” Daehyun announces, releasing Seungcheol in favour of running to you to grab the food before dashing back to his dad, holding his hand out. 

Seungcheol accepts the mushroom, and he tries it, letting out an embellished groan. “These are great,” he says, which prompts both children to try them too.

“Perfect!” Daehyun agrees.

Seungcheol watches you turn off the heat under the pan, moving to finish grating the gruyere for Hana. “How was work, my love?” you ask.

“Fine,” he sighs, not wanting to think about his job in a moment like this. “I couldn’t miss mac and cheese night. How were things around here?”

“Hana, why don’t you tell daddy about preschool?” you suggest, moving a pan of preprepared pasta bake ramekins on a tray to the island counter. 

“We did art!” Hana says proudly. “Made something for you.”

“Really?” Seungcheol loves receiving drawings from his kids. “Want to go grab it for me?”

You’re two steps ahead of him, even while cooking, and you reach behind yourself to grab a piece of paper from the fridge. You hold it out to Seungcheol, and he takes it from you, smiling widely as he looks at the image.

“It’s our family,” Hana explains, although, with the dad character holding a briefcase and dressed in a suit, Seungcheol thinks it would be impossible for him to think it’s anything else.

“I love it, you’re going to be an artist one day,” he tells her, reaching down to pick her up, tucking her by his hip. “And how about you, Daehyun? How was soccer practice?”

“Mommy picked me up after school and she had veggie snacks which weren’t that good but I ate them anyways, and we did practice and I scored goals-” Seungcheol loves how his son rambles, and he listens patiently while Daehyun describes finding a coin on the field that he can add to his collection of treasures he’s picked up throughout his life.

By the time the story is finished, you’ve already put the mac and cheese in the oven, and you’re standing with your palms on the counter, watching Seungcheol interact with his children. There’s a gentle smile on your face, your eyes lit up with affection.

Seungcheol is drawn to you, and he walks around the island, Hana still tucked on his hip. “Hi,” he says softly, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “How was mommy’s day?”

“Good,” you respond. “Hana and I went to a greenery after preschool to get some new plants for the garden.”

“Oh yeah?” Seungcheol looks down at his daughter. “Did you two find anything nice?”

“Mommy got me a bouquet of tulips,” Hana confirms. 

“We also got a few more lavender bushes and some rosemary,” you add. “She played with bubbles while I planted them, and then we went to get Daehyun for soccer. A few of his friends came over with their moms after that to play in the pool, and then we started mac and cheese.”

“Sounds like a full day,” Seungcheol nods. He’s constantly in awe of how you juggle both kids, house maintenance, a social life, and cooking. 

“The kids are tuckered out,” you say, reaching out to brush some hair from Hana’s face. “They were thinking we could watch some Disney movies after dinner before bed.”

“Well we can’t say no to that, can we,” Seungcheol smiles. 

“No, we can’t,” you agree. “Daehyun, the mac and cheese is in the oven, should we start on a salad?”

“Do we have to?” he asks.

“Greens are an important part of a healthy diet,” you remind the little boy who’s always had problems with his veggies. “How about you help me choose what type of salad to make?”

“Can we have the one with lots of cheese?” Hana questions.

Seungcheol loves his little cheese fiend, he loves his family, and most of all, he loves that he gets to share it with you every day.

After being filled up with hot mac and cheese, the kids had fallen asleep less than thirty minutes into their movie. Seungcheol had carried them to bed, double checking to make sure they were tucked in all right, and now, he heads into your shared room, closing the soundproof doors behind him.

“I’ve said it already, but I’ll say it again, dinner was great,” he tells you, as he heads to his closet to begin removing his button-up shirt. “Even the salad was good, I haven’t seen Daehyun eat that many greens in months.” 

“He’s warming up to them,” you smile, coming up behind your husband to give him a hug from behind, your cheek pressed to his back. “We were all happy you were there to eat with us. I know work has been busy, so I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.”

“And miss mac and cheese night?” Seungcheol scoffs. “Not even Jeon Wonwoo himself could keep me from that.”

You laugh at the mention of his business partner. “He can join next time, if he has the time. Hana misses Uncle Woo.”

“That's because he dotes on her.”

“As if you don’t.” 

“We all do, she’s a special kid, that one.”

“They both are,” you muse. “Daehyun downplayed it, but he was doing really well in practice. Coach says he has some real talent. Apparently he can’t shut up about the way that you take him to games twice a month in box seats. I think it’s making a huge difference.”

“That’s good to hear,” Seungcheol smiles. 

“Anyways, enough about our days,” you sigh. “Do you need a shower?”

“Why? Do I smell?” Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle.

“No, I was just thinking I might have one, and maybe you’d like to join me.”

Seungcheol groans. “Well, now I definitely need a shower.”

“Perfect.” You pull away from his back, reaching down to take off your shirt as you head to the bathroom. “I’ll see you in there, daddy.” 

As much as you love being a mother, you think some of your favorite moments might just happen when the kids are asleep. Seeing Seungcheol with Hana and Daehyun is one of the great joys of your life, but you have needs too, and after a long day, you really need something to help you relax. 

You turn the shower on, and as the spa-like bathroom fills with steam, you undo your pants. You’re slipping out of the fabric when Seungcheol joins you. His large form gently presses against your back, and his lips find your shoulder. His hands smooth down your arms softly, and he presses his crotch against your bum, showing you how turned on he is.

“You look so beautiful today,” he tells you.

“And you look as sexy as ever,” you respond, smiling while leaning back against his bare chest. 

“I do, do I?” You feel him grin where he’s kissing your neck, and you rest the back of your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of him. “Guess this means we’re a match made in heaven.”

You love when he sweet-talks you like this, and when his hand slips down your abdomen to cup your pussy, you let out a groan of pleasure. “Should we go in the shower?”

“The shower can wait,” Seungcheol states, “and these panties have to come off.”

“You got it, daddy.” You hook your fingers in the waistband, pushing them down so his eager fingers can touch you directly. The contact has you shivering, and he begins to circle your clit. 

“How did I ever get so lucky with you?” he asks, teasing you while he grinds against your ass.

“I ask myself the same question every day,” you confess, whimpering when one of his large fingers slips into your core. 

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Seungcheol tells you, sucking on the sweet spot on your throat that always makes your entire body react. 

“Agree to disagree,” you whisper, consumed by the feeling of his fingers as he adds a second one, working you open. 

“It’s torture spending a whole day without being able to touch you,” your husband confesses, as he applies pressure to your clit with his palm.

You know exactly how he feels, and although you’re leaning into his touch, allowing him to be the one exploring your form, you know your patience will run dry soon. You need his cock, more than you’ve ever needed anything in your life.

It’s tantalizing, having his large bulge rubbing against your ass while he finger fucks you closer and closer to a release that’s always much too easy for him to earn. 

You turn your head to the side, reaching behind yourself to tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing his lips to your own. 

After all these years, Seungcheol knows your body inside and out. There are no words that need to be spoken as he gets you closer and closer to your high, only whimpered moans and groans of pleasure as you remain lip-locked.

Your first orgasm overtakes you, and you gasp into the kiss, wiggling your hips for more stimulation while he helps you through it. His free hand is on your waist, and he aids in your motions, which only adds to your pleasure.

“Cheol-” you whisper.

“I know, darling, I know,” he presses his forehead to yours, finishing you off before removing his hand from between your legs. He quickly sucks your juices off his digits before working on your bra, which falls off to join your clothes on the floor.

You turn in his embrace, palms flat to his chest so you can push him back until his bum hits the edge of the sink. “I wanna suck you off,” you tell him, feeling confident and as needy as ever.

“Fuck, I love it when you use that sweet, pretty mouth of yours to say the dirtiest things,” Seungcheol groans, large hands moving down to work on his belt while you sink to your knees on the tiled floor.

“You had a long day,” you tell him, knowing every day is long for the successful businessman, “I just want to make you feel good.”

“You always make me feel good,” he smiles, pushing his pants down so his cock can be released. 

Wasting no time, you wrap your hand around the base, taking one last look up at him to muse, “Well, I want to make you feel great,” before your mouth finds his large cock. 

The sounds he makes during sex have always been a huge turn-on for you, and the groans he lets out as you suckle on the head of his cock are like angels singing. You close your eyes, leaning into the act of pleasuring the man you love most in the world. 

His gentle hand finds your head, and he helps you blow him, taking more of him into your mouth while your hand pumps the base.

“You’re so good,” he whispers. “So fucking good for me.” 

You groan at the praise, and it makes his hips twitch, cock slipping into the back of your throat.

When you’d first been together, you hadn’t been used to the sensation, but after all this time together, you’ve become accustomed to it. In fact, you even kind of enjoy it when he throat-fuckes you, in some odd masochistic kind of way.

He’s slow with it, and you know he’s watching you carefully for any signs that he should let up on you. With you focused on your breathing and relaxing your throat, he never has to actually pull away. You listen to his sounds of pleasure grow, his grip tightening in your hair. 

“Fuck,” he groans, gently pulling you off his cock. “I need you.” 

He helps you to your feet and in one motion, he lifts you up and sets you on the sink, slotting between your legs. Your hands find his strong shoulders while he guides his cock to your pussy. His lip is caught between his teeth in concentration, and your heart swells with love for your husband.

The head of his cock slips into you and you both groan. 

“You’re wound up, darling,” he muses as he sinks a few more inches into you, test thrusting so your wet juices can cover his length and make it easier for you both. “Are you sure you don’t need some more of my fingers?”

“No,” you hold his strong shoulders tighter, “I just need you.”

“Yeah?” he leans in, pressing his lips to yours while his hands find your hips, one slipping to gently cup the small of your back. “Are you still my needy princess?”

It had been the first true pet name that stuck when you’d started dating, and even after all these years, it still makes a tingle run up your spine.

“Yes, Cheol, you feel so good-”

His thrusts have his cock sinking fully inside of you now, and you can’t help the way your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your body is alight with pleasure, and you truly can't help the sounds that are escaping past your lips.

You try your best to be quiet with Cheol most nights, but your kids are asleep. On top of that,  there’s a soundproof bedroom door, a bathroom door and a shower running to muffle your noises, so you figure now is as good a time as any to let loose a little.

“God, I love it when you get loud for me,” Seungcheol groans, leaning forward to pepper your throat in kisses while you lace your fingers through his soft hair. 

Each thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, and you can feel tension building in your abdomen, a sign of another orgasm on its way.

“You look so perfect like this,” your husband muses. Suddenly, he’s pulling away from you. “I want you to see.” 

You moan in annoyance as he pulls out of you, dragging you off the countertop so he can turn you around, facing the steamed mirror. You bend over the sink, letting out a whine when he slips inside of you again, leaning forward with his chest pressed to your back while he wipes a hand along the reflective surface. 

You can see yourself now, and you look completely fucked out. 

Cheol grins behind you, and you love how the reflection showcases how much larger than you he is. With your smaller form in front of him, his shoulders are visible on either side of your own, and his height makes your pussy clench around him.

“Told you it was sexy,” Seungcheol muses, leaning forward again to press his lips to your shoulder. “I want you to watch as I make you cum.”

You’re not entirely sure you’ll be able to keep your eyes open, but you nod all the same, eager to please him as he begins to fuck you again. Each thrust has your hips pressing to the marble sink top, and it hurts a little, but the pain is pleasure.

You groan, panting as you watch Seungcheol fuck you from behind through the mirror.

He truly is a vision. each slap of his hips against your ass has your breasts bouncing too-

Steam is quickly covering the mirror again, and you reach out a shaky hand to wipe it away, intent on doing your best to follow through with his command.

“Cheol,” you whimper, his thrusts getting faster, harder- 

“That’s it,” he groans. “Let me hear you.” 

Your sounds are getting louder and louder as the tension in your stomach builds- and when Seungcheol licks two fingers, slipping his hand down your front to play with your clit, the noises of pleasure become uncontrollable. 

“Gonna cum for me, princess?” he asks, breath hot against your throat.

Everything feels so intense, the steam in the room adding to your heightened senses, and you nod quickly. You can’t find it in yourself to speak, you can only grab the sink as an anchor while your husband works you to the edge-

“I’m there too,” Seungcheol assures you. “Cum with me.” 

The sound that escapes you as your pussy clamps down on his cock is almost inhuman, and you struggle to keep your eyes open, gazing at your own fucked out expression through the mirror while Seungcheol rides out your highs.

His head is thrown back, throat all gorgeous and on display- 

You love him a stupid amount, and it only makes your core throb harder around his cock while he fills you up with his cum. 

It doesn’t help that his fingers are still on your clit, and you twitch from oversensitivity, letting out another loud cry. Seungcheol’s eyes open, as if he hadn’t even realized what he was still doing, too lost in the feeling of your throbbing cunt- he’s quick to pull his hand away, resting it on your hip as his thrusts begin to slow.

“Fuck,” he groans, “that was good.” 

His lips find your shoulder, and you both do your best to slow your heavy breathing. 

“Now I really need that shower,” you joke, earning a chuckle from the man still inside of you.

“Let's do it,” he says, giving you one last kiss before he pulls out of you.

He grabs your hand, helping you to the shower-

“Shit, did you hear that?” His head turns towards the closed door.

“I didn’t hear anything,” you tell him.

“No, listen, there it is again-” Seungcheol lets go of your hand, and he quickly grabs his robe, wrapping it around his naked body. He opens the bathroom door. “Shit, we woke up one of the kids. I’ll be right back.”

He exits the bathroom, shutting you inside behind him as he tightens his robe, rushing to the large soundproof bedroom doors. When he opens them, he finds Hana standing there, her stuffed teddy in her arms.

“Is Mama okay?” she asks, looking up at him like she’s on the verge of tears.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Seungcheol is quick to sink to his knees, wrapping his daughter in a hug. “You know she gets night terrors sometimes. It was just a bad dream, but I got a shower started for her and she should be okay.”

“Are you sure?” Hana asks, wiping at her eyes.

Seungcheol releases her, taking a look at her face and helping her clear the tear tracks with his thumb. “Yes, love, mama is fine. Here, let me get you back to bed.”

He picks up his daughter, carrying her back to her room. She settles in alright, and with a quick kiss to her forehead and a goodnight, Seungcheol leaves her be. He’s in a rush to get back to you, and as he enters your room and ensuite bathroom, shrugging off his robe, he finds you in the shower.

“I swear that kid has super hearing,” he muses softly, joining you under the water spray and pulling your body tight to his own.

“Maybe our soundproof bedroom door isn’t as soundproof as we thought,” you suggest. “Did you tell her it was night terrors again?”

“That seems to be the company line, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle. He feels a little bad that the lie has gone on for two years already, but what else is he supposed to say to a kid who just heard her mother screaming?

“Hey, Night Terror,” you tug him closer, “you look lost in thought. What’s on your mind?”

Seungcheol sighs. “Just that maybe we need to invest in some good earplugs for the kids.”

You laugh, snuggling close to his chest while he wraps you in his arms. “Darling, I love the way you think.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! sometimes we all just need a short, sweet, established relationship sugar daddy/ A+ actual dad Cheol in our lives, you know?

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview.  “Fuck the house, I want you here. Now.” You don’t waste another second, grabbing his face and crashing your lips against his. His own hands find your hips, and within moments he’s pulling you onto his lap, growling into the kiss. It’s clear from the way that he’s touching you that he has no objections to fucking in the hot tub.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism, fucking in a hot tub, dry/wet humping, multiple reader orgasms, sensory stuff with the hot tub and heat, breast worship, fingering, cheol using her like a fleshlight, manhandling, some dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, finger sucking,. I petnames. (hers) princess.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring.Cheol x afab!Reader

bonus

“Uncle Woo!” Hana lights up as one of her favorite people enters the house, and Wonwoo returns her smile, dropping onto one knee to embrace her.

“Hey, Hana,” he grins.

“They told us we were sleeping over with you but I almost didn’t believe it!” Hana raves.

“I got the guest room all set up for you two,” Wonwoo says, standing up while holding your daughter to his chest. His gaze shifts to Daehyun. “Uncle Mingyu and Uncle Vernon are going to pop by for a bit too, they’ve been missing watching soccer with you. I’ve got the game from earlier recorded, you could have some boys' time while I play princesses with Hana.”

God. You love Wonwoo. He’s the best uncle you could have asked for concerning your kids. It’s clear Seungcheol thinks the same, his grip tightening around you while his smile widens. You all watch Hana joyfully rant about playing princesses, and Daehyun is even smiling at the thought of spending time with his favorite uncles.

“Do you two have any special plans for tonight?” Wonwoo asks when there’s a lull in the conversation. 

It’s your anniversary tonight, and you definitely have special plans, but none you can discuss in front of the kids.

“Mostly just taking her out for dinner,” Seungcheol says, which is only half a lie as he turns to gaze at you with hearts in his eyes.

“Nothing too extreme,” you agree, patting his chest. 

Wonwoo gives you a look that tells you he sees through your bluff, but your kids are none the wiser, and - as it is with your ‘night terrors’ - at the end of the day, a few white lies to protect their innocence doesn’t hurt anybody.

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[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James is older than you so he thinks he knows better.

Prompt: friends to lovers - "No one has made me smile like you do."

Warnings: steamy ❤️‍🔥

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

~ hope you like this! @alz14 ~

You know James Potter through your older brother, and you like him. You've always liked him, and you've never done much to hide your affections. Even in school, when you were just a naïve second year and James was a "mature" sixth year, you harbored the most obvious of infatuations that your brother teased you about incessantly.

Now that you've just turned twenty and James is almost twenty-five, your feelings have grown, and for your late birthday present, you want a kiss.

Luckily for you, your birthday falls around Christmas—meaning no one bats an eyelash when someone kisses under mistletoe.

"Jamsie—" you sing-song, padding across your brother's apartment in your slipper socks as he hosts a small, early Christmas gathering with his friends. Naturally, you invited yourself, because really, this was a marvelous opportunity.

James, who's known of your feelings since he was a boy, brings his mug of hot chocolate to his lips, grinning to himself when he hears you. He turns around, raising an eyebrow as he sees you standing in front of him in your sparkly red dress, the contrast jarring against your fuzzy pink socks. You're holding mistletoe over both of your heads and fake a shocked expression.

"Oops," you say, jingling the little bell attached to the mistletoe.

James sighs. He thought he knew all your tricks by now, but this one was new. "Hello, bunny," he whispers, lowering your arm. You pout at him, and he shakes his head, tapping your nose condescendingly with his index finger.

"I am not that stupid."

"It's tradition," you argue, crossing your arms. You look around the room. "C'mon, no one is watching us. One kiss."

"No. You're just a kid." James stops you from leaning in by resting his hands on your hips to keep you still. He looks at you, his eyes shining as he takes in how grown-up you look. Damn, you're certainly not a kid anymore, he thinks.

"I'm twenty," you tell him sternly. "We aren't that far apart in age. You just make it a big deal."

James chuckles. "It is a big deal. I'm older, and I'm your brother's best friend. It's wrong."

You huff, staring at him through your eyelashes as you slowly raise your arm again, rustling the mistletoe, and smile at him. "One kiss," you whisper, your nose nuzzling his as you stand on your tiptoes, your free hand holding his strong, muscular arm.

James's chest heaves as he takes you in. You're stunning, and he wants you, but he knows he can't have you.

He begins to shake his head and in your hurry, you go to kiss his cheek. The movement of James's head messes up your calculations, and you kiss the side of his mouth, your soft lips touching his, and a coil suddenly snaps inside him.

His eyes widen, and just as you move to pull away, his hands leave your hips and he's cupping your cheeks, pulling you back in.

You're still holding up the mistletoe as he kisses you back, and after a moment, you finally lower your arm and wrap it around James's neck. James is quick to push you into your brother's small bathroom, knocking stuff over as he sits you on the sink, his hands continuing to explore you as he devours you.

"Jamie," you whisper as he pulls away, his breathing harsh. James's eyes are dark with lust.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, pushing himself away, reality sinking in as he sees the strap of your dress hanging over your shoulder and the flushed expression on your face.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thinks.

"Your brother is going to murder me."

"He doesn’t have to know," you say, hooking your heel behind James's leg, pulling him back in as you keep your leg hooked around his hip. You groan when he's close and look up at him. "More," you say. "I've wanted you for so long, James. Please."

You're begging, and James is losing his mind. How can he resist your begging?

He doesn't. He crashes his lips onto yours, and this time, his hands slip up under your pretty dress, feeling the wetness of your panties. "Shit," he smirks, playing with you for a while, his fingers experienced. His lips trail down your neck, careful not to leave any marks your brother might see.

"So needy for me," his voice sounds breathless.

You nod, holding him closer, feeling yourself lower your defenses and let him in. "Y-yes," you whisper. "No one has ever made me feel like this, James."

"And no one has ever made me smile like you have," he says in your ear, kissing your cheek as he lowers your dress back to cover you. It's a secret confession, a declaration of love, you realize, when he presses his forehead against yours and tells you, "Not now. Not like this. You deserve so much better than this."

You slide down from the sink, and James's hands find your hips as your dress rides up a little, but he ignores it. He just looks at you fondly.

"I promised myself I wouldn't fall for you," he says, tucking some hair behind your ear. "That it was stupid, considering who your brother is, but you made it so damn hard not to. All those years of you following me around like a lost puppy, that pretty smile and those shining eyes. I was doomed from the beginning, love."

"More like fated," you say automatically, your eyes locked onto his.

James laughs, then nods. "Yeah. Fated. That's the word," he says honestly, leaning down to kiss your lips, ignoring how his mind is screaming at him to stop and think of your brother and how wrong this all is—because his heart doesn't have anyone else on its mind but you.

And he wants to keep it that way.

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg

[ohmygraves]

some more period related stuff cuz i hate bleeding and being born with a uterus

inspired by this piece by @dmitriene !

okay, so say that the reader is someone who grew up in a "traditional" household. being taught that period is an "embarrassing" thing, that you clean up after your own mess, even if you're feeling like your body is being torn into two pieces. even if the job takes two person to do.

it took a while for you to get out of that kind of family dynamics, and now that you're together with simon (either married or dating) you understand that maybe your period doesn't have to be something that's so shameful.

one day you bled through your pads or whatever period products you use, the blood leaked everywhere. On the shorts you wear to bed, the new satin sheets you just bought, the thick comforter on the bed, simon's... oh god you even bleed on him.

of course, you panicked. one because now you had to somehow clean everything yourself and then get back to bed to get some rest before the sun goes up, and that you had to wrangle those pants and sheets from simon so you could clean them properly. this was your nightmare and you're not sure if you could even deal with everything.

you were about to cry and pass out from the sheer overwhelming feeling before simon wakes up, seeing the blood on the bed and on him and on you and he just let out a sigh before pulling you to the bathroom, giving you a pat on the back and kisses your forehead to calm you down.

"y're bleedin' onto the floor, sweetheart... c'mere..." he whispered, didn't expect you to start crying instead after he said that. oh god, i have to mop the floor too, you thought.

"what're you crying for, love? it's okay. i'll handle the mess."

you tried to form words, but all that came out were sobby mess. "b-but... 's blood... dirty..."

if he could roll his eyes further he could've seen the inside of his head.

"love, really? you think i'm bothered by a little bit of blood?" he let out a sigh. "do you remember what i do everyday?"

"it's different!"

"'s not. blood's blood," he sighed, "take off your pants."

you didn't want to make him more angry, so you obliged, letting him throw the stained clothes away. he took off his own stained pants, grabbing a clean one for himself before telling you that you should probably shower and get yourself settled down, he'll be outside cleaning everything off the bed. you reluctantly agreed, you felt really gross anyway and shower might help.

when you're done, he prepared you some new pads, clean set of clothes, the dirty clothes you wore earlier were now gone. the bed is cleaned, though missing the comforter and the sheets have been replaced. the blood on the floor is also clean, he must've mopped the floor while you were inside.

"how's my love doin'? better, i hope?" he came up behind you and hugged you. "threw everything into the washer, everything's sorted."

"simon, i have to handwash them..."

"do you want to handwash the comforter too? be my guest, then."

you sighed, hand washing the comforter would've been absolute hell.

"just come back to bed, love... everything's clean."

"bed's stained, right?"

"'s all good, i flipped it over."

good enough.

you laid back down with simon, the clean sheets feel nice on your skin. it seems like he got another blanket, though not as thick as your usual comforter, still better than nothing. hopefully the stain on the comforter will be gone by tomorrow.

"sorry that i woke you up..."

"just go to bed, love. 's late." simon grumbled, pulling you into a hug. seems like he's not used to the thinner blanket too, seeing how he's snuggling into you closer. it is quite cold without it, the two of you just got used to the thick comforter.

"okay," you closed your eyes, feeling better. "i love you, simon."

simon only grumbled in response, his face already buried in the crook of your neck.

you hoped that there won't be anymore leakage later.

[designerradiator19]

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[hazbn-oneshots]

Bathtime Headcanons

Just a few headcanons for sharing a bubble bath with the main characters. Enjoy!

Charlie:

oddly enough Charlie doesn’t partake in full baths as much as she favors showers.

She’s busy dealing with the hotel and along with ruling as the Princess of Hell so she much prefers a quick warm spray.

On the occasion, however, she finds herself tired enough that you might just be able to convince her to indulge with you. 

You make a point of dredging up any kind of bubble bath, bath bomb, lotion, anything you can find to ensure that you can provide the best bubble bath possible.

Music plays softly over a small speaker, but it’s drowned out the hushed whispers of words of love as you meticulously wash and condition her hair.

Conditioning is your favorite step. Charlie didn’t need it often as her hair somehow stayed so silky, so every now and then when you got to run a soft brush through her hair, twisting it gently to pin atop her head.

She tries to wash you in return but you always push her hand away, insisting on pampering her after a hard day.

Usually ends with you drying her off and carrying her to bed when she inevitably passes out.

Vaggie:

Vaggie loves baths but she’s hard pressed to admit it. Nothing feels better on sore muscles than a nice soak, ideally with lavender. She loves lavender.

The two of you had been dating for about 6 months before she even entertained the idea of going to you with such a request. 

She was too embarrassed to ask.

-in the end, how she broaches the subject is by surprising you one night when you return home. A few candles lined the edge of the bathtub that was filled nearly to the brim with bubbles.

”I just thought it would be nice, you’ve been gone all day” And you know better to react calmly should you risk spooking the flustered angel with the scarlet red face.

She’s the one that drags it out in the end. She’d wrap her arms just a little tighter around your waist and mutter about how the water would stay warm for just a little longer.

Vaggie gives sweet towel hugs.

Alastor:

Listen, Alastor takes pride in his hygiene. He takes the utmost care to keep himself and his dress in immaculate condition. 

He’ll invest in facial creams, hair creams, body creams, oils, lotions, you name it and he’s used it. 

But baths? No. Absolutely not.

You’ve only attempted to convince Alastor to take a bath with you and neither occasion ended particularly well. The radio demon wouldn’t speak to you for a week after the first failed attempt and had all but removed himself from your life with the second so you couldn’t say you were in any hurry for a third.

However, the two of you have come to a happy compromise. Whenever you found yourself in the mood to draw a bath you would sometimes find Alastor pulling a chair up next to the tub with a book tucked under his arm. So would begin a lovely tradition between the both of you.

More than once you’ve found yourself dozing to the soft static of the Alastor’s voice, and in response the demon would lightly tap his cane against the edge of the tub to rouse you.

Don’t fall asleep though, three strikes and he’ll leave you in the tub. No he doesn’t.

Husk:

Not. A. Fan. Considering his entire being consists of fur and feathers, Husk can and will do everything within his power to avoid bathing if he can. Look, it’s just not his idea of a fun night to sit down with a hairdryer and attempt to wring himself out as best he can.

Inevitably he’d miss a spot and end up with stale wet cat smell and no one likes that, especially not our resident grump.

He won’t make a fuss if you want to bathe with him though. What he will do is laugh while patting your shoulder. “I’ll wait for ya in the room”

The more comfortable he gets, however, you’ll start to see that eventually Husk begins to find reasons just to ‘wander’ into the bathroom with you. He misses you, you know it, but it’s still sweet to see him making the excuse of looking for his lucky pair of boxers.

”The water’s always warm darlin”

You better get the blow dryer ready, the only way you can convince him is if you’ll deal with it. You don’t mind though, the purrs are worth it

Angel Dust:

You and Angel take turns picking which bath bombs and bubble baths that you’ll throw into whichever potion you’ll be brewing up tonight.

Bathtime with Angel was always a favorite for you, you couldn’t think of anything better than getting to curl up with your cuddle bug in your arms. Although things never really stay that way for long.

It’s hard not to tease while washing each other. A slip of the hand here, just a little rough touch of loofah there, just a sweet little taste of what could be but the restraint comes easy in the relaxed atmosphere. Just in times like these Angel will be patient enough to wait until you can actually make it to the bed. 

Angel won’t let you wash his hair. You don’t know why he’s so particular about it but if you interrupt his routine of products then his entire night is ruined so you choose the peaceful route and leave the man be. That doesn’t mean he won’t wash your hair for you if you ask though, those four hands of his do wonders at massaging the scalp.

Angel will 10/10 let you towel dry him every single time and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t use it as an opportunity to make a show at bending this way and that, making sure to get every inch of him.

He looks like a fluffy mess afterwards but hey, he’s your fluffy mess.

Requests open!!

[communistkenobi]

this might make me sound ignorant but is the radfem part of term not about hating men? they hate trans people, they hate men and they view both as predatory, obviously men are not their primary targets but I feel like it would be incorrect to say that they don't hate men, especially since many of them believe in gender separatism (which is bs for numerous reasons). it's wrong to bring up men every time someone talks about the transmisogyny terfs spew bc that would be derailing the conversation but can men (trans/cis/whatever) not express how they've been hurt by terfs in their own posts or conversations? apologies if ive completely misinterpreted what you were saying I just want to understand the topic better

I’m not disputing that terfs hate men. However, I think it’s an error to highlight their hatred of men as ideologically significant. Sure they talk about hating men, but their political alliances reveal that dismantling patriarchy, or a desire to oppress men, is not a concern for them, given that they support the criminalisation of sex work, the state enforcement of sex as biologically determined, and are allied with the same right wing groups (such as the Heritage Foundation in the US) that want to criminalise abortion and reinstate “traditional” white western gender norms. If you view terf political goals through the lens of hating men, then their political efforts have overwhelmingly been a massive failure. Which I don’t think is very useful analysis!

A hatred of men is also not politically useful in general, because there is no money to be made or political battles to be won hating men. Hatred of men is not a systemic issue because men are not oppressed as a social group on the basis of their manhood. There is no political or financial infrastructure built on the foundation of hating men, nor is there infrastructure dedicated to maintaining a systemic hatred of men. Hating trans people, however, is extremely financially and politically lucrative, particularly hatred of trans women/transfems, because of how transphobia and misogyny intersect with and reinforce one another. There are ample political, financial, medical, and social institutions that operate on the maintenance of patriarchy, many of which terfs share a political platform with. So terf hatred of men is clearly not that big a deal given how willing they are to ally with right wing groups and fascists, who are the last people on earth to tolerate the oppression of men as a political goal.

This is why people (myself included) take umbrage with the continued insistence that terfs hate men as a central foundation of their beliefs. It’s not incorrect to say that they hate men, but hating men is not the problem with terfs. Hatred of men is not an inherently reactionary position anymore than hating cis people is. The problem is the way terfs conceptualise gender, and the political goals that flow from that conceptualisation, which affects all trans people but primarily affect trans women/transfems. The spectre they raise about bathrooms, about sports, is always the age-old transmisogynistic conspiracy of “a man in a dress” “invading women’s spaces” because the historical legacy of transmisogyny looms large in public consciousness, and reinforced by medical/psychiatric institutions in particular, in a way that hatred and fear of trans men does not (autogynephilia exists as a mental illness but autophallophilia does not, for example. Julia Serrano talks about this in Whipping Girl if you want to read more on the subject). Terfs don’t care about trans men in men’s sports, they don’t raise the counter-spectre of trans men being mass assaulted in bathrooms by cis men who discover that they’re “really women” - these are not rhetorical moves that are interesting or useful to them, because it does not position them as victims. Trans men are hurt by their transphobic rhetoric, suffer under transphobic laws that are passed, and face transphobic discrimination from people in their lives as a result of how mainstream transphobia is (and I am speaking from significant and traumatic personal experience on this front). We are not, however, the face of the transgender boogeyman, and we are not the primary target of terfs. We are targets because we are trans, not because we are men. To be dismissive of the claim that terfs hate men is not a dismissal of the pain and violence transmascs go through, because our oppression is not founded on our manhood.

So when you see terf political efforts and terf rhetoric, their obsessive focus on trans women as arch villains who need to be destroyed, and you come to the conclusion that a hatred of men is the animating force behind terf political activity - that is a transmisogynistic conclusion, both because you are framing their transmisogyny as something that is primarily informed by a hatred of men, and because “terfs hate men” is a non-sequitur in discussions about the political and social damage that their beliefs cause. If terfs hate men, they do so as a hobby, and I don’t really give a fuck about their hobbies

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man 13

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: You remember.

6.5 Words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12)

March, 1977

You hated the sweater that your grandma had picked out for you to wear on the night of the Hawkins Middle School Talent Show. It was slightly too small for you and you couldn’t comfortably raise your arms without your midriff accidentally showing, the material was itchy and the tag was poking at the back of your neck which made you scratch the skin there which only made the problem worse, and you know that when you stepped out onto the stage the lights would make you feel unbearably hot. 

What you hated slightly less was the poem that you were supposed to recite. You didn’t really have anything against The Owl and the Pussy Cat, but it wasn’t exactly your first choice for the show. Actually, you had about 8 more ideas for your forced performance that had all been shot down by your teachers or parents. 

Being forced to be in the talent show wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You really did normally like being on stage if it was by your own choice and you got to choose what to do. Now, here you were in 8th grade, getting ready to be on stage because of some stupid rule that said that all students must participate in the talent show once in their 3 years. 

You didn’t have a talent in 6th grade, and in 7th you ended up getting the flu which had kept you in bed for a week. Now for 8th grade you had been cornered and forced to recite a poem that put you to sleep and was sure to give every bored parent an excuse to take a bathroom break. 

There were way more interesting performances than you, and you’d rather trade with almost anyone. The girls from the cheer squad always did an original routine despite using the same three cheers at every sports game, there were the Tyson brothers who did their traditional “Who’s On First?” stand-up that killed every year, a few kids playing piano or singing some random song, and one girl doing what you assumed to be some sort of martial art demonstration. The talent here was only marginally better than the ones you had sat through in elementary school. 

Okay, there was one performance that you were looking forward to seeing. Dougie, the guy who sat next to you in English, had been going on for weeks how he was in a band now and that they were making their debut at the talent show that year. He excitedly rambled to you about how they were going to play a Judas Priest song and it was gonna be awesome. 

You had never talked to Dougie before then, but you had made eye contact with him once when he was talking about the talent show and that meant that you were now going to listen to him every time he wanted to talk about his band. Having a full live band at this show sounded a lot more interesting than most public school acts, and the idea that they were going to get away with playing a song that was not school board approved sounded awesome. 

The irony of it all was that about three minutes before the show started he admitted that they had all practiced together a grand total of twice beforehand. 

Dougie was currently jumping up and down in an awkward rhythm from foot to foot, clinging to his bass like it was his last lifeline. When you tried to talk to him, he only responded with a line from the song they were going to sing, having forgotten the rest of the English language in an attempt to make sure he remembered the words to the song. It made you feel a little better, because you could at least recite your poem in your sleep. 

You leaned against a wall and looked up towards the catwalk above the stage. There were two kids up there, and you were pretty sure that they really weren’t supposed to be. One was a girl in a ponytail, wearing a sparkly outfit that matched the group of cheerleaders in the hall, and one was a boy with a buzzcut wearing ripped jeans and a dark t-shirt. Quite the opposite pair. 

You watched them for a moment, unable to hear a word they were saying but they both kept looking out at the crowd. When the five minute warning came, they each scrambled back down to the floor and Buzzcut Kid made his way to Dougie and the girl went out to join the rest of her squad. 

Maybe this would be more enjoyable if you also had friends to do this with. The few friends that you did have had either done their stint in the years before or had decided to do something completely different than you. 

Your only saving grace was that you were up second, right after some 7th grader sang along to the latest pop song that hit the charts about a month ago. This meant that you at least got it over with, and could spend the rest of the show alone and unbothered to watch everyone else. 

That was the plan at least. Unfortunately for you, you had completely overlooked one crucial thing about your fellow peers. 

They were fucking mean.

You really hadn’t thought much about the poem you were going to recite, it was just supposed to be a very quick poem that no one would remember. You had actually learned the poem a very long time ago when you were a kid, so you never made the connection that part of the poem could be taken... incorrectly. 

When your name was called, you stepped onto the center stage, shoulders back and head up straight. You were going to say your poem from the diaphragm, make your parents and grandma happy, and then get off stage. It would take less than two minutes and then you were home free. 

The second you started talking about how the Owl and the Pussy Cat went to sea in their pea green boat was when you started to hear the giggles from backstage. And when the Owl started to sing on their guitar, that’s when you realized your fatal mistake. 

"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,

What a beautiful Pussy you are,

         You are,

         You are!

What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Oh. 

Oh no. 

The giggles from backstage grew louder and you felt your face heating up from more than just the horrible sweater. You could barely focus on the last two verses, where the Owl buys a ring off a Pigs’ nose to marry the Pussy Cat, you could only finish the poem in a deadpan voice before walking off stage as quickly as possible without even waiting for the first applause to start. 

Backstage, everyone was giggling every time they looked at you. Whispers of ‘O pussy, my love!’ and ‘O lovely pussy!’ and (less creatively) ‘pussy lover’ followed you as you made your way out into the hall, trying not to cry. 

They would all call you “pussy poem girl” until you skipped town and left Indiana forever, you just knew it.

You slipped into the bathroom, had yourself a small bout of embarrassed frustration tears, and then stomped your way to the art room. Ms. Teedee, the art teacher, was infamous for forgetting to lock her door which meant that it was easy to sneak in and make your way over to the large box of construction paper and get to work. 

It started out as just a way to calm down after the horrible embarrassment you just faced, but then it became a plan to hopefully soften the blow. 

It took you about a half hour to make, roughly, a million paper flowers from the various sheets of construction paper, which you then shoved into a discarded cardboard box next to Ms. Teedee’s desk. With a final deep breath you made your way back to the gymnasium where the cheerleaders were now doing their dance. 

When they all filed off stage, you stood there with your box of fake flowers and handed each of them one with a “Congratulations!” and “You guys were amazing out there!”.

Maybe if you were nice enough now, they’d drop the Pussy Fiasco and leave you alone. 

While the next act went on, you retroactively passed out paper flowers to the students who had already been on. Everyone stage right was waiting to go on while stage left was for those who already went. The plan seemed to work well enough, and you found the sooner you shoved a flower in someone’s face, the less likely they were to make a crack about your poem. 

At least until Monday when the snickers would follow you for the rest of the school year, and partially into high school by a few asshats who had nothing better to do. 

When you finally had a moment to catch your breath and take a moment to watch the talent show, there was a cacophony of noise coming from the stage. Drums, guitar, base, cracked vocals, were blasting from the speakers, making most of the parents in the audience wince. 

You skirted around to the side of the stage, just out of sight from the audience to see what was going on. Dougie’s act was up and they were... loud. Loud was definitely the right word to use. You couldn’t see Dougie well, he was on the far side of the stage away from you, and a girl with a drum set was behind him. She was banging away on the drums in a way that reminded you of Animal from The Muppets with how much energy she was putting into it. You were expecting her to hit the drum so hard that the stick would go flying. 

Speaking of flying...

The guitarist was the one who captured your attention the most. Under the spotlights you could forget that he was just an awkward 8th grader like you, he looked like... almost like he was flying. That didn’t make much sense because he was standing in place, but it was the only metaphor you could think of that made sense at the time. His vocals were rough, but the passion in his voice was clear. Most students were half-assing their performances out of obligation because they were forced to but not him. Buzzcut Kid played like he needed to, as if his life depended on it. 

The sting of the guitar and the thrumming of the drums drowned out any snickering from the students that had been following you for the past forty minutes. For the next three, you were absolutely enthralled by the kids on stage. So much so that when they all filed off you completely blanked on handing out flowers, your ears still ringing from the act. 

“That was great!” you had managed to spit out to Dougie, who gave you a quick thanks before turning back to the rest of the band, the three talking excitedly about their very first performance. 

Dougie’s band was the second to last performance, followed by a grand finale of a kid playing a medley of old tv show themes on piano. You remembered to give that kid a flower at least. Afterwards, you were all ushered on stage for a bow, your hands felt clammy as you gripped the hand of one of the Tyson brothers, not wanting to look at the audience at all. 

With the show over, everyone filed out into the main area of the school. Kids reunited with their parents and siblings to talk about the show and give congratulations. You saw a few of your flowers already being dumped in the nearby trash can, which stung a little. You sighed and clung to the remaining flowers in your small cardboard box and realized that you never did hand them over to Dougie and his friends. 

Ignoring the fact that your parents were looking for you, you pushed through the sea of people and found Dougie, handing him a flower quickly before moving on before he could say anything else to you. The girl drummer was easy to find next, as she was at the edge of the crowd with an old woman who you assumed was her grandma. You handed her a flower too, with a stuttered “You were so good!” before disappearing again into the crowd. 

There was only one flower left to give out, and you were shaking slightly at the idea of approaching the guitarist. You didn’t know why; shy was never a word that your friends and teachers would use to describe you. But this guy was just so cool and he played guitar in a band! Okay, so Dougie was also in the band but that was different! This guy had played in a way that put air into your lungs and made you forget the disaster of your own performance. You wished that your family had brought their clunky camcorder to tape the show so that you’d never forget it. 

You spotted Buzzcut Kid standing with an older man as they headed out the door of the school, and you panicked for a second. You shifted from one foot to the other quickly as you tried to make a decision. If you didn’t give him a flower then- then- then he wouldn’t have a flower! Then he’d be the only one without a flower and then what? What if he made fun of you for your poem? What if you gave him a flower and he decided to ignore your horrible social blunder? What if he did that anyway when you approached him? What if no one else was going to tell him that he had the coolest act in the show?!

It was that last thought that had you barreling through the crowd towards the door, clinging to your box tightly. You definitely shoulder checked some people on accident as you pushed your way out of the school and started walking quickly to the kid. 

“W-wait up!” you said, nearly stumbling over your feet as you caught up to the kid and the old man he was with. The kid stopped and looked at you, as if confused as to why you were speaking to him. 

Under the lamps hanging outside of the school, you were met with the prettiest brown eyes you had ever seen and your heart thrummed in your chest. 

“Hi...?” the kid said, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you. His voice snapped you out of it. 

“I really liked your act it was really cool and it’s cool that you got away with playing that song without someone pulling the plug or canceling the show!” You blabbed, not stopping for breath or punctuation. 

The kid froze for a second, and then looked a little bashful giving you a crooked smile. You noticed a slight chip on one of his front teeth. 

“We got yelled at pretty bad backstage for it.” the kid said, looking almost proud of himself for it. 

The man who was with Buzzcut Kid placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the truck.” he said, walking off and leaving the two of you alone. 

“It was still really good!” you insisted. “It was my favorite part of the show!” 

Had it not been past sunset you might have noticed the way his ears burned from the compliment. 

“Thanks.” he said, shifting slightly. “Uh, which act was yours again...?”

“Nothing interesting!” you said, a bit louder and higher pitched than you meant to, secretly relieved that he hadn’t heard your embarrassing poem. “Oh uh, this is for you!”

You reached your hand into your box of flowers and pulled out the nicest looking one left, a dark blue one that matched his t-shirt. He took it, his hand barely brushing against yours as he did, and he stared at it for a moment. The way he was looking so intently made your stomach turn and you suddenly felt very stupid for rushing after this guy who had no idea who you were just to give him a paper flower that was just going to end up in the trash can later. 

“I gave one to everyone” you started blabbing again. “‘Cause you know not everyone gets flowers after a show but everyone did a really good job so I thought I could let everyone know that they did so that’s why I made them also what song was that that you guys played?” 

It was a lie. Why were you lying? Were you so desperate to not look like a total loser in front of this guy that you’d just lie about the real reason why you made the flowers?

Well, you were in middle school. So, yeah, you were. 

“The song was ‘Prowler’ by Judas Priest.” the kid said, “It was the easiest one we could learn at the last second.” 

You knew that. Right, you did know that, Dougie only mentioned it every single day for the past two weeks. You felt so stupid asking that question, but at least Buzzcut Kid didn’t know that you knew. 

“You guys were really good.” you repeated, not sure what else to say. You were rambling now, and Buzzcut Kid probably thought you were a total dweeb. “I hope you guys keep playing and you’re really good at guitar and I’ve never heard anyone play electric guitar live except for one time when I went to the Indiana State Fair in fourth grade.”

You needed to shut up, you were really running your mouth for no reason and just talking at this poor guy who was just trying to go home. 

“I’ve been playing since I was a kid.” Buzzcut Kid said, and he was still giving you a look. His eyes were so round. “My dad taught me what he knew and I just picked up the rest from there.” He was holding the fake flower carefully, running his finger along the edge of one of the petals. You hoped he didn’t get a paper cut from doing that. 

“That’s so cool.” you said, your voice a little bit slower now as you tried desperately to hold your tongue. 

“Thanks.” he said again, and you immediately ran out of things to say. Of course, later you realized you could have probably kept the conversation going by asking for his name, or offering yours, but there are many downsides to being in middle school and piss-poor social skills is one of them. 

“Okay well you were good and I gotta go, bye!” you said and quickly booked it back to the school, your heart pounding and your cheeks flushed from more than just the horrible sweater. You didn’t even look back at the kid that you had just left standing there with your paper flower. 

You didn’t talk to him again after that. For a small school it was really easy to miss people. Your schedules never lined up, you never saw him in the hallways except for maybe one or two glances before or after school. Dougie never talked to you again, and by the next semester you’d been moved to a different schedule anyway. By the time Spring came around, you barely remembered the kid who you’d gushed to, and when high school came around he was just a distant memory of a night that you really tried not to think about. 

The only evidence of that night lay now in your lap. The Hawkins Middle School yearbook from when you both were in eighth grade had a full color spread of the talent show. The Tyson brothers and the cheerleaders got solo pictures of their acts as well as a small collage of every kid that played the piano. 

But there, in the bottom of the second page, was a larger group photo of every kid that had been in the show that night, the picture taken thirty minutes before the curtain. You were stationed on the second row, on the far right and there on the top row was Buzzcut Kid, the girl drummer (who Eddie had explained was his friend Ronnie), and Dougie. 

No wonder you didn’t recognize Eddie or his band before. Besides Eddie, the whole line up of the band had completely changed since their middle school debut. There was no way you would have placed the tall and lanky kid with the buzzcut as the guy who you’d been seeing for the past few weeks. 

When you had been looking at Eddie’s pictures in your own copies of the yearbook, you had been only looking at high school. It hadn’t occurred to you to try and dig further than that. 

“So this is what you’ve been so cryptic about.” you said finally, looking between the flower and the yearbook. 

“I didn’t think it was a big deal you didn’t remember me.” He shrugged, falling onto his back on the bed next to you. “I wouldn’t remember me either.” 

“Eddie, I was obsessed with you for like, a month after this.” you admitted, staring at him hard. “You were the only good part of that night. I stopped thinking about that night when I didn’t see you again. ”

“You were obsessed with me?” He lifted his head and looked at you with a shit-eating grin. “Stalker.”

You grabbed a flimsy pillow from beside you and smacked him in the face. “Says the guy keeping count of how many times we met!”

“The second time was when you got in trouble with Higgins for skipping class- hey!” Eddie lifted his arms as you whacked him with the pillow over and over. 

“Why-” Smack! “didn’t-” Smack! “you-” Smack! “tell-” Smack! “me-” Smack! “this-” Smack! “earlier?!” 

Eddie grabbed the pillow out of your hands and smacked you back. “Didn’t think it was important.”

“Not important?!” you gaped at him. “Edward Munson, I’m going to use that pillow to suffocate you. I’m so embarrassed now. I remember you as this super cool guy who made me feel better and I was just some random kid who was always crying- oof!”

Eddie smacked you with the pillow a bit harder than intended, but it didn’t matter with how much you two were laughing. 

“You think I’m super cool? Aww, I’m flattered. Maybe I will give you a few autographs to sell, seeing as how you’re my biggest fan.” He teased. 

“I take it back, I take it all back! You suck, and are super lame and not cool at all.” you grabbed the second pillow, slightly less flimsy than the one he was holding and smacked him again. 

“Sweetheart, you’re hurting my heart here.” He held his hand on his chest and gripped his shirt dramatically. “You were the first girl to ever come up to me and tell me you liked my playing, and now you’re taking it all back? I’m wounded.”

“I was?” There was no way that was right.

“Okay, you were the second. Ronnie might count as the first, but all she did was say ‘Fine, I guess we’re good enough we could try and start a band.’”

“And now you’re good enough to possibly get a record deal.” you said, smiling at him. 

“I’ll be sure to thank you when I get my first Grammy.” 

You leaned against the wall that his bed was cornered into and sighed. “I can’t believe you were Buzzcut Kid and that nice guy who stopped me from having a meltdown in the Principal’s office.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t recognize you until halfway through the night at the arcade.” Eddie offered. “I just saw Harrington with a pretty girl and assumed you were more like him.” 

“Steve and I are more of an ‘opposites attract’ pair. I didn’t think I’d end up friends with him, but he’s surprisingly fun to hang out with.” you picked up the flower again, noting how worn it looked. Wait, was that your phone number scribbled on it? “What tipped you off?”

“Air hockey.” Eddie said. “It was when you decided that we should pit freshmen against each other that I remembered Chris telling me once about a girl wanting to join Hellfire. He had made you out to be some sort of stuck-up who wasn’t actually interested and was just asking to fuck with us.”

“Fuck Chris Morrison.” you said, bitterly. 

“Fuck Chris Morrison.” Eddie agreed. “So when we were in the middle of making Wheeler and Henderson fight for our own entertainment, that’s when I recognized you. At the Hideout that’s when I was sure.”

“How did you figure?”

Eddie leaned in close with that same shit-eating grin from earlier. “Because you looked at me the exact same way you did the night at the talent show when we played.” 

“Oh, shit.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh of embarrassment. “I’ve never had a good poker face. Do I even want to know how I looked at you?”

“Only like I’m the coolest guy you’ve ever seen in your life.” He said with a nonchalant shrug, but his eyes still had that glint that made you want to smack him with a pillow again. 

“I’m mad, but only because I know you’re right. You, Eddie, are actually the coolest person in Hawkins and also the biggest nerd I’ve ever met.” You crossed your arms and nudged him with your knee. 

“I find that hard to believe, since you’ve met Henderson.” Eddie nudged you back with his knee and you didn’t miss the way he shifted closer to you. “Kid’s probably the smartest person I know. Don’t tell him I said that.” 

“I’m telling him.” you said instantly, giving your own shit-eating grin. “I am forever in Dustin’s debt. He can rent any movie that’s not porn from Family Video as long as I’m on shift and he gets first dibs on any almost expired candy. There’s no way I’m not gonna tell him when someone says something nice about him.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, or at least you assumed he did because his bangs moved slightly as he looked at you. “And what, pray tell, did the little shrimp do to garner such favor with you?” He shifted a little closer under the guise of getting comfortable, and now his leg was oh-so-casually touching yours. The movement was as subtle as your poker face.  

You might not have had Steve’s long track record of dating and sex, but you weren’t completely oblivious. There was no way you were going to keep any sort of neutral expression with what would inevitably happen here soon, so you decided to just lean into it. It’s not like anyone was here to interrupt this time. 

You moved yourself closer to him now, adjusting yourself so that your shoulders were now touching. It wasn’t exactly an ideal position, but it was at least your sign to him that you were not against body contact. 

It occurred to you that you were also sitting on his bed, alone. Okay, that thought had occurred to you earlier, but that had been a hypothetical. A fleeting dirty thought about Eddie as a way to blow off steam while you tried to stop your simmering anger for Chris from boiling over. 

This was starting to feel real now, and you absently licked your lower lip, your cheeks warming up. Eddie’s eyes flicked from yours, down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes for a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it move. 

Perfect. 

“Well as we are now both aware, Steve and I had this thing where we would try and wing man for each other. I’d help him get dates, and he’d help me in return.” you said. 

“And I am still trying to figure out how Mr. Popularity was having trouble getting dates.” Eddie shifted his body towards you, but the contact remained. 

“Turns out that high school tactics don’t work after high school.” you shrugged. “So I gave him some tips, and it turns out he’s a fast learner. He really didn’t need my help, just a good smack in the head.” 

“What about you? Am I one of a long line of boys whose hearts you’re breaking?” It was a good thing you were sitting down, because he was giving you the most unfair puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. Had you been standing, that look might have made you weak in the knees.  

“You are the only guy I’ve been on a date with this whole time.” You admitted. 

“How long has this thing been going on?” 

“Late September, I think?” You tried to think back to that original conversation, but it felt like a lifetime ago. 

“That long and Steve could only suggest little old me? I thought you’d have people lining up to date you.” There was a sincerity behind his teasing that didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Steve said that it’d be easy for me to get random dates, but I am horribly picky, and the dating pool in Hawkins sucks.” You explained. “Steve didn’t even start holding up his end of the bargain until weeks in.”

“Okay, so walk me through how Steve Harrington cares enough about my existence to suggest me as a potential suitor for you.” Eddie looked at you. “I can’t get that out of my head.”

“Again, if you need me to set you up with Steve I’d be willing to-”

“No.” Eddie gave you a look that you were sure scared the freshmen at school, but it only made you laugh, which softened his gaze. 

“It was Dustin.” you managed to say between giggles. Your hand reached out and casually rested on his thigh, and you felt his leg twitch slightly under the denim of his jeans but didn’t pull away. “He loves to come in and talk to Steve and it turns out that there is one good thing about being in that stupid school, and that’s you.” 

“Henderson said that?” He looked genuinely surprised. 

“Dustin Henderson has two male role models in his life, and that’s Steve Harrington and you.” Your thumb rubbed absently along his jeans. “Steve knew I wasn’t going to be interested in just anyone, so after hearing all about the kid’s grand adventures with you, Steve and Dustin set up the meeting at the arcade.”

“That little shit.” Eddie leaned his head against the wall.  

“And when you totally ditched me, Steve decided to try again at the Hideout.” you nudged him with your shoulder. “I figured that I’d blown any chance with you, so there was nothing to lose by hitting on you and playing up my alcohol intake just a little bit.” 

Eddie’s head snapped to yours so fast that you were surprised he didn’t hurt himself. “What? I thought Steve ditched you.”

“No, he’d never!” you said quickly. “I.... told him to leave so that I could spend more time with you because he was, hm... how do I say this- he was cockblocking me.” 

Eddie’s laughter echoed through the trailer, filling the small space up with life in the exact opposite way that Chris’s laughter had done in the theater. The sound alone washed away any remaining anger about the day. “Shit... I was ready to fight him in your honor. I thought he left a drunk girl at the Hideout alone with no way to get home. You’re a crafty one.”

“I have my moments.” you said with a grin, waving the paper flower. 

Eddie plucked it from your hand and looked it over, before leaning to set it aside on top of his copy of The Hobbit. He sat close to you and his arm casually draped around your shoulders as he leaned back against the wall with you. 

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, despite the palpable tension between the two of you. You knew what was coming, it was written all over your body language as well as his. Everything was out in the open now, no more cryptic words, or weird miscommunications. Whatever was next, was anyone’s move. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder, taking in the moment to enjoy how nice the weight of his arm around you felt. When was the last time you had any sort of physical intimacy with someone outside of hugging your friends? Eddie’s thumb rubbed along your shoulder soothingly, and your hand mimicked the movement on his lower thigh.

Every time he shifted, your stomach tensed up and you wondered if this was it. It wasn’t. Time slipped away from the two of you as you rested on his bed, cuddling with each other. The tension between you never eased up- even when your heart beat slowed down, it wouldn’t be long until a simple touch brought it back up. 

Finally his fingers started sliding down your arm, calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. Sturdy fingers found yours and laced through them, and you felt the heavy rings on his fingers press into your skin. It was a slightly awkward position, with his arm now between your back and the wall, but it was progress. 

The stillness between you was different. Normally, the two of you were unable to shut up, always finding new things to talk about, to learn about each other, to explore with this tentative new bond forming between the two of you. Now? There wasn’t the same rush as before, the two of you could just exist by each other. More talking would happen in the future, but for now you leaned against him and waited for something better to do with your lips. 

You shifted and looked over at Eddie, realizing how close his head really was to yours. He wasn’t looking at you though, his eyes were watching the way your fingers were now messing with the torn fabric of his jeans, your thumb moving between denim and skin. You wondered if that spot on his leg burned the same way that your skin currently was.

Eddie smelled nice. There was the faint smell of cigarettes that lingered on his clothes, but whatever body wash and detergent he used seemed to neutralize most of it. Other than that, he didn’t smell like any object or scent that you could put your mind on. You took a slow deep breath through your nose and decided he smelled earthy and warm like late summer or early autumn, with an undertone of boy. 

What was he thinking right now? Was Eddie feeling the tension between the two of you the same way you were? You didn’t think you were misreading this situation, you’d done this before. Something would have to give soon, were you not being obvious enough? Shit, maybe some of Steve’s advice would have been good here. The two other times you had been in a situation like this, you were the one to make the move first, having grown impatient. But Eddie had clearly been the one to start leaning in first at the movies, right? Was it so wrong for you to want him to make the move? 

Maybe he didn’t want to start because of what happened with Chris? Did he think making a move on you when you were upset over being hit on was tacky? That might be it. Why did that only make you want him more? 

You did a quick check in with yourself over this. Were you mad at Chris? Yes. Were you mad he hit on you? Yes. Did you want Eddie to make a move? Yes. Did you only want Eddie to make a move so that you could forget about Chris? No. You wanted Eddie to do it because you liked Eddie.

Why was this so-

Something bumped your forehead and you realized as you were zoning out that Eddie had been staring at you now. This close, you could see every shade of brown in his round eyes. He shifted slightly again, and your heart jumped into your throat. Warmth flooded you from your cheeks to your toes as you felt his finger twitch against yours. 

“Hey.” Eddie’s voice was quiet in your ear, and it made the back of your neck tingle. “You good? You’ve been staring at my knee for a while.” 

“Sorry, it’s just the sexiest knee I’ve ever seen.” You said, smiling at him.

“Yeah? What about my other knee?” His breath ghosted over face as he let out a laugh. 

“It’s just okay.” The tension was easing a bit between the two of you, and you were torn on if this was a good thing or not. 

Eddie moved so that his shoulder was against the wall and he was facing you. You adjusted yourself accordingly, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes flicked down to his lips for a second before meeting his eyes again. 

“Are you sure you’re good?” He asked, staring at you intensely. 

You were good. You were so good. Actually, if something didn’t happen here soon then that would be the reason you would be not-good. 

“I am now.” You squeezed his hand and gave him a look that you desperately hoped he read as ‘Yes you can do it Eddie I am of sound mind and body and if you don’t do it I may actually explode from the tension between the two of us-’ 

Eddie’s lips finally found yours for just a brief moment before pulling back slightly. You followed his lips, not letting him get away that easily. Your lips met again, and this time he didn’t pull back. His hand reached up to cup your jaw, his fingers lightly brushing against the back of your neck in a way that made the delicate hairs there stand on end. 

When the two of you broke apart, it was you who pulled back after a few moments with a smile. 

“So...” Eddie said, looking at you. 

“So...” you echoed. 

“Still good?” he asked. 

“Hmm...” you considered for a moment. “I don’t know. I think you should do that again, just to make sure.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up in a way that you had only ever seen on stage so far. This time there was no hesitation in his movements as he pulled you closer again and kissed you. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down on the bed with you, not letting your lips part. 

One of his hands rested on you side while the other was used to keep himself from squishing you under him. If he had, you wouldn’t have minded. 

In a lot of romance stories, you had always heard phrases like ‘he kissed her breathless’ or ‘she let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding’. You had always waited for the day that someone would kiss you like that, but now with Eddie you realized that wasn’t what you needed. 

Because for the first time in a long while, with Eddie nipping at your lower lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth, you felt the exact opposite. 

For the first time in so long, you felt like you could finally breathe. 

a/n: Holy smokes, y'all finally got smooched! But don't worry, the party's not over yet. I still have a few chapters before everything wraps up! I've had the First Meeting written out since March or April, and I though that would make the rest of the chapter faster to write. I was wrong lol

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n

@mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea

@vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93

@perpetualmessmachine @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh

@siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @kores-mun-son-n-more @eddiebuttcheeks

[goquokka00]

Bridge Over Troubled Lovers (Pt. 1)

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 |

Summary: You are the daughter of the Hwang family, a family infamous for their line of beauty products and even more so for their eldest son: Hyunjin. You're in the market for a husband, but sadly, you don't catch anyone's eye. Not until a fateful evening, where the eldest son of the Bahng family changes everything.

Pairing: Bangchan X Reader (F!)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Some Humor, Eventual Smut (MDNI) (I will give heavy emphasis on when the smut will occur, don't worry 😊)

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: Fuck you guys, writer's block is literally no joke 😫. I had this sitting in my drafts for fucking ever, trying to figure out how much to write without it getting boring and I hope that it didn't and I'm so sorry for not getting to it because I meant to have it out earlier but again, writer's block has been beating my ass like you wouldn't believe. So I hope this part makes up for it?? I hope.

Every day seemed to be the same for you. Wake up, get dressed, go down to the dining room for breakfast, and then walk the courtyard with Hyunjin until you got bored and went to the river. Then you'd go back for dinner, listen to your parents and Hyunjin talk about whatever, and then go to bed.

It was a process you'd gotten used to.

Today wasn't much different. You had woken up around dawn, the same time as usual. And as usual, your maid wasn't in to help you. You yawned and stretched, going to your bathroom and brushed your teeth and hair, deciding to leave it down for the day. You also made sure to wash your face and apply a little bit of makeup.

You had to look the part of a Hwang, after all. You really didn't want to have to deal with your father calling you a disgrace to the family. It...wasn't fun to deal with. Not to mention also having to be compared to your brother.

Once you were done in the bathroom, you walked to your closet, finding a dress that would be fitting for the day. You figured that a simple sundress would do. And so, you slipped it on before leaving the room.

Breakfast was pouched eggs and salmon. One of Hyunjin's favorites. Though it was delicious, it wasn't one of your tops. But you still sat down across from Hyunjin, bowing your head to the butler that brought you your food, and began to eat. You made sure to cut the salmon and eggs into small pieces, knowing that you had to be graceful while eating.

Your mother and father was also at the table, eating peacefully, but not making any conversation toward you. It was normal for them not to. You weren't nearly as interesting as your brother. But you still listened to the conversation they were having.

"There's going to be a party at the Han's Friday evening. And I'm assuming you plan to go?" Your father asked Hyunjin, who nodded with a smile. He took a sip of his tea, looking to the old man.

"I do, yes. Hopefully there will be someone there who pique my interest to court." Hyunjin replied.

Yeah, you forgot about that.

Both you and Hyunjin were at the age where you had to try and find someone to marry. And it was tradition for men to court women. Except, there were some problems for both of you.

For one, Hyunjin was always surrounded by women. He just couldn't catch a break, no matter how hard he tried. Not to mention that men also tended to come to him to talk about business opportunities. And while Hyunjin was grateful, he also wanted a chance to court a lady who fit his ideals.

Your problem was entirely different. Any man who approached you wanted nothing more than to talk with your brother. They'd introduce themselves, and then immediately ask if you could get your brother so they could talk business. And while you did so for them, you wished that they'd court. Mainly so you didn't have to stoop to the other women's attempts to court a man.

"I'm sure you'll find someone eventually, Hyunjin. But going to this party will definitely help your chances." Your mother told him, giving him a smile. Hyunjin nodded to her, setting his fork and knife on his empty plate.

"Yes. And I can't wait for it." Hyunjin responded, before standing up from the table. "I think I'm going to go and get a bit of work done. I'm sure I'll see you both around."

"Of course, Hyunjin."

"Work hard, dear."

With that, Hyunjin bowed, before walking around the table to you, gently squeezing your shoulder. It was his greeting to you. And an invite. An invite to join him in his study.

One you'd graciously take.

Once he was out of the room, it got quiet again. Your mother and father went back to eating, and you continued doing so. It was like you were invisible to them. But it was normal, it always has been.

It didn't take you very long to finish your breakfast, standing up and excusing yourself with a smile. And then, you left the table, walking up to Hyunjin's study. And once you reached the door, you gently knocked, opening it to poke your head through.

"Hyunjin, its me." You greeted. Hyunjin's nose was in papers, just like it always was. But it didn't take him long to lift his head up, giving you a smile.

"Hey! I was wondering how long it'd take for you to finish up!" Hyunjin smiled, standing up and walking over to you. You also smiled, watching Hyunjin come and place a hand on your head, gesturing for you to follow him. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

"But don't you have work?" You questioned, watching Hyunjin shrug.

"Yeah, but I've been cooped up for days trying to get all of this work sorted out. I need some fresh air." Hyunjin said nonchalantly. He walked right by you, gently nudging your shoulder. You rolled your eyes, following him.

"You always seem to need fresh air. Couldn't you just open a window?"

"I could, but then I wouldn't get to spend time with you." Hyunjin spoke, turning to give you a smile. You smiled back, the two of you heading out to the garden. And once you both got out there, Hyunjin was immediately greeted by the gardeners.

He bowed, having a small conversation with them, while you stayed by his side, a smile on your face as they spoke. They had no interest speaking with you, all they wanted was to know Hyunjin's opinion on how the flowers and the garden-work looked. Hyunjin humored them, of course, complimenting their work before excusing himself, wanting to continue his walk with you.

And once they were out of ear shot, he finally spoke to you.

"So, how has courting been going?" He asked, watching you roll your eyes. It caused him to laugh. "Not going well, then?"

"How could it be when everyone wishes to talk with you?" You replied, giving him a half smile.

"Is that so?"

"Very. Any man that graces me with their presence only wishes to speak business with the upcoming head of the Hwang Household." You told him, folding your hands in front of you as you both walked.

"I see. Then I suppose Cupid isn't on the side of the Hwangs."

"You haven't had much luck either then, I suppose?"

"How could I? Girls swarm me, men constantly talk business...I barely have time to go and court any girl I see any interest in."

"At least people wish to talk with you." You had a point, and Hyunjin knew that. He had an upper hand with people wanting to always talk with him, always gush over him. And yet, you never seemed to catch anyone's attention. Even when you attempted conversation with a man, they always excused themselves, never to talk with you again.

Always such a pain.

"I suppose you have a point, but you'll find someone someday. I know you will." Hyunjin smiled to you, patting your shoulder as you both walked. "You just have to keep attending parties. Like the one this Friday at the Han's."

"Please, I highly doubt that I'd be wanted there." You replied. "I'd just stand around, clinging to the wall like I always do. Either that or direct men to where you are."

"You don't know that." Hyunjin told you. He stopped walking, going in front of you and grabbed your shoulders, a soft smile on his face. "You could find the love of your life, your future husband that could take such good care of you and-"

"I don't think that's how it's going to play out."

"You never know unless you give it a try!" Hyunjin said to you. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure you'd go. "The only parties and dinner events I've ever seen you attend were the ones our own family hosted anyway. Going to somebody else's gathering could make a large difference."

"But don't we invite the Han's over all the time?" You asked, crossing your arms. "As well as most of the people that they usually invite?"

"Oh come on, name a few people that would be at that party that we'd also invite-"

"The Lee's, the Yang's, the Honeywood's, the King's, the Bridger's, the Porter's, the Dukesbury's, the Lethbridge's, the Kim's, the other Kim's, the-"

"Okay, I get it. We know a lot of the same people. But the Hans know so many more!" Hyunjin said. "After all, they're a toy business! They reach out so often to so many different families, there's bound to be new people for both of us to meet."

Again, he had a fair point, despite your curses you sent towards him. The Hans were a family in the children's toy business, and that meant they were constantly reaching out to any and every family in order to stay accurate and precise with the toys they made.

And that also meant that they were a good party to be social at, because it meant that you'd have more of an opportunity to actually talk to people.

Hyunjin let his words sink in, let you think for a moment, before letting out a sigh, tilting your head up so you'd look at him, giving you a warm smile so you'd actually consider his proposal.

"Just...give it a chance. For me?" Hyunjin asked, moving to look into your eyes. You looked back into his, trying your best to find any reason not to go.

You hated social events, because it was just as you said. You'd keep to the side, occasionally eating some of the hors d'oeuvres, maybe snag a glass of champagne or wine, and direct people to wherever your brother may be.

But at the same time, Hyunjin had a point too. You'd never find your future significant other if you didn't push your boundaries and be social. They weren't going to come find you if you didn't put yourself out there.

And so, with a sigh, you gave him an answer.

"Fine."

||

"You look absolutely lovely today, Channie!"

"Oh, thank you! You look lovely as well, Lady Sophie." Chan gave a smile as he looked to the ladies who had come to his estate's plaza.

He was just on his way out to go and visit the Han Household, knowing that the new head of the family and his good friend, Jisung, wanted to talk with him about some things. And besides, Chan could never say no to a meal that would be free.

Of course, the ladies who gathered in the plaza every morning just to see Chan were a bit in the way, like they always were. Chan just didn't have what it took to be mean to them.

He never did.

But he was thankful when the carriage arrived, the door opening to reveal his friend inside, waving to him.

"Chan! Good to see you again!" He said, Chan smiling at the sight of his friend. He looked to the girls, bowing to excuse himself, before going inside, shutting the door once he was seated.

"It's good to see you as well, Jisung. How has your family been?" Chan asked, Han giving him a smile.

"Oh, we've been doing amazing! Our profits have gone up by 10% in the last month, and we have the Hwang family to thank for it." Jisung said, feeling the horses pull at the carriage, taking them back to his own home. "Their upcoming head, Hyunjin, came up with the idea to make teddy bears with satin cloth to help prevent skin issues. And they've been working like a charm!"

"The Hwangs, huh?" Chan had heard of that family. They were big into skin care and beauty products. From cheaper moisturizers to expensive blushes and foundations. And his sister loved their products with everything in her. Though, Chan couldn't see his family working with them.

How would you even make a business collaboration or a business partnership between a family who makes skin care products and a family who makes guns and weapons for the military?

"Oh yeah. As thanks, I invited them to the party my father decided to host for his and my mother's anniversary." Jisung continued, before gasping and looking to Chan with excited eyes. "You should come, too! I could even introduce you to Hyunjin!"

"Oh, whoa whoa whoa, slow down!" Chan laughed a bit, knowing how Jisung got sometimes. Way too excited, acting before thinking. "As much as I'd love to attend, I have a lot of work to do as well."

"And? It's on Friday, and you don't do much on Fridays anyway. You write to people in the morning, and then you have the rest of the day off, don't you?"

"Well, kind of, but-"

"Then come!" Jisung said, moving next to Chan. He immediately wrapped an arm around Chan's shoulders, moving him back and forth, back and forth. "Besides, you've been meaning to court a girl for your wife, haven't you?"

Ugh, Chan sometimes hated that he was close friends with Jisung.

It meant that Jisung knew of Chan's struggles with finding a girl to court. Mainly because women constantly swarmed him. And because Chan was easy to fluster and shy away, it made him nervous to talk to those women that constantly surrounded him.

Sure, he was nice to them. How couldn't he? Breaking a women's heart was like breaking their soul, at least, that's what his father always told him. But he feared that it also fed their need to always hound him and swarm him and just...overwhelm him.

It...wasn't fun.

"Well, yeah...but it's not like you've been doing much better." Chan said, Jisung crossing his arms with a scoff.

"Pah-lease, I'll have you know that I recently just started courting the younger sister of Sir Minho Lee, and he supports it!"

"No way..."

"Yes way! And she's a kind-hearted soul, couldn't hurt a fly. And honestly, she's amazing in every way, shape, and form...I really lucked out." Jisung couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face as he talked about his significant other. Chan could definitely see that he loved her.

And he was...kind of jealous. He wanted a love like that.

"That's nice, I'm happy for you. Really." Chan said, smiling to his friend. Jisung smiled back, patting Chan's shoulder.

"Listen, with Hyunjin there, I bet you that he'll have all of the girls' attention. He's a pretty handsome guy, I mean, he could be a prince with his looks." Jisung said, crossing his arms. "It'd give you a pretty nice shot at talking to ladies at your own speed. And it'd also allow you to be social without running away from women, y'know?"

"I guess you have a point." Chan said, letting out a sigh.

It would be amazing if Chan could actually have space at a party for the first time in forever. Getting to talk to women at his own pace, getting to converse with men and get more contacts with other families besides the few he had gotten to know from his dad.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to find someone to love. Just like his friends had been able to.

"So then, what do you say?" Jisung asked, looking at Chan in the eyes, obviously hopeful. And with a sigh that faded into a smile, Chan responded.

"I don't see why not." Chan told Jisung. Jisung immediately smiled, getting all giddy with excitement at the idea of Chan going to meet someone at the party.

"Perfect! Absolutely perfect! I'll give you all of the details once we get back to my estate!" Jisung exclaimed, Chan laughing.

It was certainly going to be interesting. That was for absolute certain.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken @freckleboilix @miss-daisy04 @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

[twsted-kinks]

Malleus x Reader: Biology Nerd (Part II?)

Fluff & NSFW things (slight angst?)

>ageless and minors dni<

Not really a part two just the same Yuu hanging out with Mal.

Reader is gender neutral but this is very self indulgent so they be fat, hairy, and may come across as masc. Also reader is Yuu.

Content Warning: cultural and biological differences leading to situations, assuming things are normal for another culture, accidental sexual stimulation and arousal, sexual tension, trying to hide arousal, Yuu being a nerd about Malleus's biology, Yuu touching Malleus innocently and Malleus getting off on the touching, is Yuu oblivious or is Yuu insecure and doesn't believe they're attractive enough for Malleus to want to fuck them?

Cuddling. There is so much cuddling. Just about every night Malleus would be floating outside Yuu's window, holding pajamas and a toothbrush. This occurred again and again, until Malleus's absence at night was finally noticed, and Sebek freaked out. The half fae's screams woke up the entire dorm. After that incident a lot more attention was put on Malleus's whereabouts. At first Sebek and Silver offered to join Malleus at the Ramshackle Dorm, but Malleus preferred his time with Yuu to be private. Lilia, being able to pick up on Malleus's little crush, found a solution. Have the child of man stay over at Diasomnia. As long as there weren't lectures the next day, Malleus and Yuu could stay up late doing whatever they wanted, and Sebek and Silver could check in as needed.

So, a new tradition started where, 1-2 times a week, Yuu would sleep over and spend the night in Malleus's room. Again, most nights were spent cuddling, talking, and enjoying each others company. Yuu was one of the few people where Malleus can have his scales, tail, and wings out and act normally around him. Well, as normal as Yuu can be. Though, Malleus's favorite thing about these visits was how Yuu would take care of him. Brushing his hair, polishing his horns, massaging his ears. His ears. It took Malleus using every bit of self control he has to remain still when Yuu touches his ears. Caressing the shell, rubbing the lobe. Malleus forced himself to take deep breaths and bite his lips to prevent himself from letting out a moan.

Malleus didn't have the heart to tell Yuu just what they were doing, how sensitive his ears are, how his cocks emerge from his slit. This became such a common occurrence that Malleus has become an expert at hiding his bulges, tucking them away, hiding them behind a pillow, excusing himself to the bathroom to take care of himself before returning. Did Yuu notice any of this weird behavior? Not really no.

Anytime Malleus did something a bit off, Yuu just assumed it was something either normal for him or just a fae thing. Malleus's dilated eyes, his awkward shifting with a pillow in his lap, the flush of his cheeks. Each thing Yuu could explain away. The eyes? Well, it is kinda dark in here. The pillow? Probably an erection, but that's just something the body does. The flushed cheeks and ears? Malleus isn't used to affection. Plus, if he's hard of course he'd be embarrassed! Yuu doesn't want to make it worse by pointing it out.

And so now they're here again, in Malleus's room. Malleus sits on his bed, pillow on his lap, and Yuu sits behind him. The human gently pulls away loose dead skin from the dragon fae's scales.

"I must thank you, child of man. Removing my shedding is often an inconvenience I'd rather not deal with. However, you've made my usual ordeal an enjoyable experience." Malleus hums and flexes his wings.

Yuu giggles. "You don't have to lie and make me feel better. I know you can just magic it off you."

Malleus is quiet for a beat before responding. "That is true. Removing my shedding is not an issue for me. It is a simple task. However, I did not lie when I stated you make the process enjoyable."

"Hm, yeah that checks out." Yuu focuses as they pick dead skin from between two scales. "Social grooming is a common behavior in social species. Makes sense humans and fae enjoy it."

Malleus thinks for a moment. "Yet you are the one always attending to me."

Yuu peels away the last bit of dead skin from Malleus's dark scales. "That's because I enjoy it too. It gives me something to focus on, something to do with my hands while I'm with you. Plus, you're really interesting to look at."

"Interesting to look at?" Malleus asks.

"Of course! Like-" Yuu runs their hand up Malleus's back to rest where the far's wings connect to his shoulder blades. "Even just your back is beautiful! There are multiple points that move and contract in a layered network of muscles in a way that is both very similar yet also drastically different to what I know. I can feel the movement every time you move your wings. And the way your scales shift and move over these muscles, an interlocking pattern that moves so perfectly on top of everything. It makes me think about the evolutionary process leading to this, and biological ancestry, clades, and categories of different spaient species here. How can I not enjoy myself?"

By the time Yuu finishes their thought, Malleus, tips of his ears dusted with pinkn has turned to face them. "Such an eye for detail for things I think nothing of. You explain your fascination with such passion. You truly have an admirable mind, child of man."

"I mean, you're the same way." Yuu responds.

"I am?"

"Your love for architecture, especially gargoyles. I admit there are times I don't understand what you're talking about exactly, but I enjoy listening to you. You always light up and it's really cute to see."

"Cute." Malleus let's the word sit in his tongue. "I should be used to the way you speak of me by now. But, I do agree. I enjoy listening to you even when I do not understand your words."

Yuu chuckles. "I'm glad to hear that. I know I tend to ramble. You can stop be to ask questions if you don't get it though."

"It is the same for me. You are free to interupt me with questions." Malleus responds. "And I do have a question for you."

"Oh? Shoot."

"What you said earlier about social grooming. Is it common for it to be... so one sided?" The fae asks.

"Well, it can depend on a lot of things, but no. Usually it goes both ways." Yuu answers. "What? Feel bad about me being your personal masseuse?"

Malleus's gaze travels along the human in front of him. Here he is, in nothing but his sleeping bottoms while Yuu sits in an oversized long sleeve shirt and sleeping shorts that stretch around Yuu's thighs. "That is part of it."

"And the other part is?"

"Our bodies are quiet different." Malleus notes. "Perhaps I wish to study yours as well.

"Oh..." Yuu is silent for a moment, shrugs, and then pulls their shirt over their head. "Yeah, that's fair."

Malleus does his best to keep his face calm, biting his lip slightly to keep him grounded. Yuu's plush torso decorated in a kayer of dark hair. The fat on the human's chest look so perfect, as if the soft flesh could fit into Malleus's hands perfectly. The human's soft stomach that Malleus has laid his head against again and again. He can't help but imagine how it would look, bouncing back and forth as the fae buries his cock at a brutal pace into the human. Malleus holds the pillow closer to his lap.

"I know I'm not that impressive, but, if I get to touch you, it's fair for you to touch me."

"Child of man." Malleus reaches out and cups Yuu's cheek in his hand. "You are beautiful."

Now Yuu's ears are the ones dusted with pink. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better."

"I am not lying." Malleus runs his hand down Yuu's neck and rests at the center of the human's chest. "You find my scales and the inner workings of my muscles to be beautiful. Can I not find your hair and your soft flesh beautiful as well?"

"That's no really-" Yuu looks down and hesitates. "Most people don't. At least where I'm from."

"Then I am glad you are here. I hope I can make you see just how beautiful you are."

[jadeee]

Living with Nanami

I get the feeling there'll be a part 2... I've never done anything note motivated but maybe if this gets 100 notes I will 👀 -> update: read part 2 here!

He habitually wipes the bathroom countertop after using the sink. It's ingrained in him. We all saw that ep in season 1.

Definitely has a modern aesthetic which when paired with yours is very... interesting. He'll eye whatever knick knacks you have in silence, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Your feet felt warm on the multi-colored rug you placed in front of the couch. The walls were decorated with art you picked out, a few pops of green from your many plants here and there. Then there was the odd trinket you found from a thrift store years ago which stood upright on the coffee table. The longer he studied the color blocked sections of your bookshelf, the more his set mouth morphed into an impressed smile. Your hands brushed against each other until he took yours in his completely.

His pet peeve would definitely be little bits of trash scattered throughout the house. He's not passive aggressive but he won't lash out or lecture you. Just a little "Darling, I noticed you forget to throw things out sometimes. Why is that?"

Another pet peeve I see for him is walking around brushing your teeth or flossing 💀 if you walk down the hall flossing, he just imagines bits of plaque flying onto the walls silently. I'm not sure if he'd say anything about this because he thinks you may find it silly and he knows it's not a big deal but a piece of him shudders just a bit.

Always has pads, tampons, and pain relief meds in stock. He'll get the special snacks you like around that time of the month. Whenever it hits you, he's there with everything prepped and ready to go. I imagine he'll secretly want you to ask him for cuddles just so he can spoon you 💗 he rests his hands on your low abdomen while talking to you softly, his breath tickling your ear.

Side note: He doesn't get into the habit of carrying these things around until one day you two are out and you're period suddenly comes out then he goes on the hunt for a pad or tampon.

He's very serious about going to sleep at a certain time and is lowkey bothered when he sees you staying up late - if it's for work, okay fine but if you're up on your phone or watching TV, expect a "you should really go to bed". If you're being a brat and he's really serious, he will haul you off to bed. He wants to give you a peck on the cheek so you know he's not mad but he won't because he's feeling petty.

The place would look very clean and organized nearly all the time except for the weekends. I believe in this 100% because Friday night is when he finally let's loose just a bit. Maybe he had too much to drink when you two went out but you look so cute and you smell so good and my God, your lips... Saturday morning rolls around and so does he in the sheets. His arms wrap around you as he groans softly against your skin, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. He knows the place is a bit messy but would rather clean tomorrow since he wants to spend the day with you.

Cleaning is a shared effort. He's not doing all the work and neither are you. I love him and I know he's all for taking care of you but I feel like realistically, this would truly be a shared task. Doing dishes can suck and so can cleaning the bathroom but it's enjoyable when you're playing your music. When he hauls the laundry off to the washing machine, he can't help but look in your direction and smile at the private show you're putting on for yourself.

No matter who cooks, dishes are typically done together. I think it'd become a tradition to bake on Saturdays. Ohh some cake with wine in the afternoon? You two sitting on the porch just giggling and talking about nothing and everything inbetween. Then when golden hours hits and the sun just casts that heavenly glow on you.

Kento leans back with a soft grin on his face.

"What are you smiling at?" you block the sun from your face.

"My light, my life."

Heat filled your cheeks as you dropped your head and crossed your legs.

Kento chuckled, "Did I make you nervous?"

"No." you snicker then glance up at him.

He filled your empty glass, "You're a better baker than you are a liar."

You grinned then looked off into the sunset to hide your embarrassment but it only highlighted the things Nanami loved about you.

He doesn't go to sleep mad or upset. He doesn't have the space for it or the time or the energy. Your relationship isn't perfect but it's worth fighting for and he makes sure to do that whenever you two have a fight. If you're both home that night, he won't invade your space but he'll make sure to let you know he cares in some way. Say you fall asleep on the couch? You're going to wake up in the bed and wonder how he ended up on the couch instead. If you haven't eaten, he'll bring you a small snack without saying anything.

This is really random but the security would honestly be multi-layered. Definitely a self insert bc home invasions TERRIFY ME 😭 he'd invest in a good alarm system and have the security cameras outside - yes, cameras to cover the front and back door.

Hmm, what else? Oh you'd have house shoes by the door. I like to think someone bought you two matching ones as a wedding gift or couple themed - like his and hers.

Fun fact: Sharing a bed with you the first night was weird for him. He didn't feel uncomfortable but he didn't feel comfortable either. He just laid there like a man in a coffin.

"Nanami?"

"Hm?" he turned his head to glance at you in the dark.

"Are you ok?"

"... I'm fine, why do you ask?"

The sound of you moving around made his ears turn pink and he was grateful for the dark for once. "You just seem so," he tried not to grunt when you poked his side "stiff."

"Hm, it's really nothing. You should go to sleep."

More rustling he wished would go away. Each second caused a slow heat to creep from his feet to his face.

"Can I hold you?"

He turned his head again then glanced up at the black ceiling. A sigh escaped his lips as he rolled over. Your limbs found each other in the dark and you rested your head near his. His chest deflated of anxiety then.

"Is this better? Do you feel comfortable?"

The sudden feel of lips against your forehead made you smile.

"Yes," he said softly then held you tight until he fell asleep.

Author's Note: I only saw him as the husband while writing this. You're already married in this headcanon.

[fantasylandblues]

modern lucemond fics have had a real chokehold on me for a while so here's my attempt at a lucemond college au! (wanted to include some minor jacegon at some point but still dont know how's that gonna go lol.) this turned into a whole ass drabble but just hear me out (and pls be nice!!!):

Lucerys Velaryon (22) is an undergrad student majoring in ocean studies. Aemond Targaryen (26) is getting his post-grad in modern-age westerosi politics at the same institution, the Crownlands College of King's Landing, Westeros, of valyrian tradition.

in his free time, Lucerys takes theatre lessons at school. he has a scholarship and makes the best of it, although he wouldn't consider himself to be particularly bright (he also has some trouble focusing). he walks with the determination of someone who's got places to be, though maybe that's just to appear stronger or more confident than he actually is. Luce's got a somewhat tall build now, but years of being undermined by his peers have worn down his shoulders and his joyful, boyish appearence.

his older brother, Jacaerys (24), is the one who got him into theatre in the first place, although Jace now pursues his passion for the martial arts, teaching children and teenagers alike. he's known for being short tempered among his friends and family, but is as good with those kids as he once was with his little brother during their formative years. they currently share a two bedroom apartment and often hang out at their neighbors', Baela and Rhaena's, sisters who sometimes feel like perfect female versions of them.

Aemond lives alone, but often meets up with his confidant and cool sister Helaena (27) at the campus restaurant. Helaena is an English professor there at Crownlands with a passion for teaching medieval histories. she has the study of biology as her main hobby and is often seen carrying a book or two on entomology which she borrows from the library on her free time.

it's not uncommon to catch Aemond at the olympic pool well past everyone's school hours, swimming focusedly as a way to clear his mind. he comes from a somewhat influent family, the Targaryens, and knows he will soon be introduced to the actual world of westerosi politics, so he gets to focus all of his energy on his studies and training, almost as if striving to achieve the best version of himself. back home, he cares for his pet lizard, Vhagar - named after the goddess of war in valyrian mythology, a name only his sister could come up with.

he's lost his eye and gained that terrible scar in a scrap with his brother many years ago, which needless to say went too far. he remembers seeing Aegon with their father's letter opener in hand, and then waking up in the hospital to his mother's worried eyes. there are days in which he proudly wears unnatural, dark-colored prosthetics, and days in which he just puts in a clear one and patches it up.

his brother Aegon (29) works remotely as a manager in their grandfather's company, a job he doesn't particularly like but was left with no choice but to take. he is still recovering from the car accident that left him paralysed from the waist down and with severe burns along his body. with his little daughter by his side, he's been dealing with this new life surprisingly well, as well as finding a new joy for parenting.

despite being bitter for years on end, Aemond could no longer hold a grudge against him after the terrible accident. they have been finding ways to remedy their relationship ever since.

beloved by his colleagues, Lucerys is easy to talk to, somewhat extroverted and ballsy, even, although he would rather shield from too much intimacy. being gay is an issue he thinks he's got handled, thank you very much, if that means getting with guys in seedy corners and never bringing that up in conversation. people know, of course, but it bothers Jace that he's never ever heard a mention of a special name.

that day, he strides out of the school's pool bathrooms with the uneasiness that's left in the bottom of his stomach after one of those types of encounters. a few swimmers are packing their stuff up for the day, and he looks just so out of place in his jeans and t-shirt.

Aemond knows confidently what he wants, yet is hard to approach for those who haven't earned his trust, and would very much like to mantain that hardened image. but it doesn't bother him that he craves like a human being, that he craves small and he craves grabbable, just enough to leave small bruises where his hands have been, and he would definitely benefit from fisting a handful of those brown locks he's just laid eyes upon. or maybe he shouldn't be thinking that while clad in nothing but tight swim attire.

let me know if this is anything! my askbox is wide open baby~

[gaymurdersalad]

[ HOWDY Y’ALL! WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM FOR A FUN BROADCAST!

If you haven’t noticed, it’s pride month! That means we’re legally allowed to be gay for an entire month before we have to disappear into our burrows once more! To celebrate the occasion, I decided to do a fun little pride post! ]

[ I’ve gathered all the little fuckers in The Void to poke and prod at them like zoo animals. In other words, I figure they all have some neat identities and wouldn’t mind being interrogated in honor of pride month. I’ll go ahead and turn it over to them, but I’ll say now, no matter how much they kick and scream, I am definitely NOT holding them at gunpoint! This workspace is… definitely OSHA approved. Don’t let them tell you otherwise. Have attem! ]

> This is fucking stupid. Stop waving that gun at me. I’m talking.

> My identity isn’t anything special. I’m just some guy who decided he was a guy way later than everyone else did. I don’t really give a damn what pronouns people use on me because usually they just end up avoiding me at all costs or scampering away like frightened animals.

> I’m bisexual, is that anything? But, like, only bisexual in a sexual way. I could not fucking fathom living a long prosperous life with anyone. How the hell are you supposed to enjoy someone for that long? Getting married seems like a scam. I bet it is. I bet it’s like the invention of Valentine’s Day for greeting card companies. You’re not actually supposed to be in love with someone for that long, it just doesn’t seem possible.

> … My marriage with Dave does not count, that wasn’t an officiated wedding. I’m fairly certain he fished those rings out of a water fountain and pawned his dress off a hooker. I do vividly recall dumpster diving for my tuxedo.

> Uhhhhhh wuh? Hmmmm, I’onno what the hell I am, Old Sport! Fuck!

> Shit, I guess I like everyone. A hole’s a hole. Why the fuck would I discriminate? I think I got a preference for men though! They’re so fuckin’ easy to romance! Unless they’re the likes of Sportsy, then it’s the hardest goddamn thing you’ll ever seduce. He gets real gay when he’s on acid, but then again, I get real gay on cocaine. Man, our wedding was immaculate. Imma tell our kids about it one day!

> Likewise, I’ll be any gender you fuckin’ want me to be. I got like, pocket gender, I can just whip it out on request. Want me to be a dude? Fuck yeah, alright. Want me to be a pretty lady? No goddamn problem at all! I can be both at the same time or one more than the other— who gives a shit? I’m just havin’ fun.

> Good fucking lord, really? That shotgun does not scare me, you orange fool—

> … I have a complicated identity. As any other living organism does.

> I have found that over the years I do not experience sexual attraction and that I experience little to no romantic attraction. I only recall feeling romantically attracted to one person in my entire life. I doubt it will happen again. > And it may seem, uhm... Embarrassing, but I do deviate from your traditional "man's man". In laymen's terms, I do not feel particularly drawn to being male. I am very certain I was born with the intention of being a man, but my mind has refused to accept it. I am not sure why. Instead of feeling like a proper bloke, I feel rather empty. If I could have it my way, I would be some... human silhouette rather than a full fledged man. I do not know. This is idiotic. > I cringe every time someone addresses me in a masculine way. I wish I could simply have no pronouns. I can deal with them because I am indeed a grown ass... person, but I just wish it were not so. Whatever. I am done complaining.

> Oh! That’s very simple, this is really easy.

> I literally don’t have anything going for me at all.

> What with the entire fabric of time being on my shoulders and all, I don’t even think about gender or romance much. I do love being a girl! It’s one of the things I miss most about being alive, actually. Pretty dresses, playing with makeup in the bathroom, trying to curl my hair without burning my scalp— I mean, it sounds horrendous sometimes, but you can’t beat it. Feeling alive and content in your own skin. Just one of those precious things that spawned from the chance of life.

> … Uhm, Uhhh… Men.

> Yeah. I Like Them. I Think… Yes, I Could Probably Date A Man Or Two. I Don’t Know, Employee, Why Did You Pull Me Out Here? You Know I Have Copious Paperwork To Do! Some @$!# $#*@ Kid Just Fell Into The Ball Pit And Got Mauled Jaws-Style And His Parents Are Really Grilling Us For It. Dumb&@#*s, It’s Not My Fault Their Kid Heeded The Call Of The Sirens. I Swear, This Job Is Going To Kill Me Or Force My Hand Into Becoming The Next Purple Guy—

> extremely in love with my wife and my gender!

> it was actually very cute how we met, employee. have i ever told you? heh heh, we met in highschool. she was on the football team and i was a cheerleader, can you believe that? oh, i was head over heels for her instantly. she was strong, she was quick thinking, she was so hecking beautiful, employee… i never got to tell her how i felt while we were in highschool, but we were good friends. very good friends. come a few years later, some old buddies of ours want to have a get together and dish it out like old times… go vandalize and drive off into the sunset in the back of a pickup truck sipping on horrendously cheap beer and laughing off our university work or our jobs. when i get to our spot, though, i see her. i’d recently wised up to my gender, y’know, had my hair cut and fresh scars on my chest, so suffice to say i looked nothing like i did when i cheered for her during football season. she’d done the same, employee— she grew out her hair to the middle of her back in such beautiful dark curls, her bangs tied back so every inch of her perfect face could glimmer underneath the neon lights of the derelict bowling alley we’d found ourselves in. she looked at me, and i sensed instant recognition. she smiled through her bright red lipgloss and rushed up to me, wrapping me up in a hug, and i swear, she hadn’t lost any of those muscles— almost broke my ribs!

> the rest of the night, we were so… comfortable together. sure, during highschool we were close, but without saying a single word about what happened to us between then and now, we understood, and employee— i think it brought us closer. it was around three in the morning while we sat around a bonfire with the rest of our buddies when she layed her head on my shoulder and i felt an unfathomable warmth. i knew i wanted her for the rest of my life.

> … i just love her so much, employee.

> oh ok

> its rlly whatever. any pronouns any gender anybody who wants me. who cares

> oh i do have a preference for girls. theyre pretty. if you disagree u are not blessed enough to be loved by gods best creation and ur pissed about it. i can tell

> what if i was actually catholic would that be fucked up or what

> …

> … I cannot… physically stress how abhorrent sexuality is to me. What… What an utterly damning notion. Someone’s greedy hands cursing you and plaguing your with their own dirty human desires. How disrespectful. How… invasive. Why on Earth would it be my responsibility to supply someone with something to love? Am I really subject to whatever the hell people think of me? Whether they “love” me or perceive me as some… some man, some object of attraction? Disgusting.

> If I could shed every trace of a sex or gender from my loathed corpse, I would. Often times I lay awake at night and consider skinning myself for the hell of it. I’ve related this to David and he said I sounded “fuckin’ insane”. Stupid bastard. I want to be a skeleton. I wanna be a fucking skeleton! Pretty and thin and not alive whatsoever! God damn this accursed body and its… rancid flesh and unidentifiable mystery goop. Ugh. Ugh!!!! God, the biggest blight on my “life” was being cursed with gender!

> I was born as a female which was just laughably wrong, then I recall amending that and trying to become a man, but none of it worked. All of it sucked. All of it was wretched. The ideal form is a ghost or ghoul or skeletal figure. You can’t romance a ghost or ghoul or skeletal figure. Can’t have sex with that. Unless you’re really, really determined. I don’t think even David could be that serious about his sexuality.

> … I… Hope. Oh dear. Oh god, I really am unsafe from the horrors of this world. God, I wish that bear had taken me out before I showed him to his grave.

[garbinge]

That One Christmas Without Carmy

Michael "Mikey" Berzatto & Platonic!F!Reader

30 Day Fic Challenge (22/30)

Word Count: 2k A/N: A little flashback with Mikey.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of abuse, angst, sadness, depression. Other fics from this universe The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth @fancyvoidtragedy @shinebright2000 @knight4xmas @gills-lounge @navs-bhat @cosmicak @kmc1989

It was the one Christmas Carmy didn’t come home. With how things were with him, you weren’t shocked. He barely answered your texts, you talked for two minutes every few months. Things were just different, you knew he was distancing himself. It took some time but you put the pieces together as to why and weren’t going to force him into anything. 

You walked into the house, apple cider in your hand, something you did every year you came. Sugar hated that Donna drank herself a mess every holiday, which made bringing alcohol feel wrong, not to mention when you started coming over for these events as an adult, you were still under the legal drinking age and you knew food was off limits when Donna was cooking the 7 fishes. So apple cider it was. 

Not bothering to engage in whatever conversation was happening in the living room, you moved throughout the house looking for a quiet corner to just collect your thoughts. Life had been pretty rocky lately, you just moved back not that long ago and you still felt like you were trying to get your footing from being in Indiana with the jackass that was your ex. You weren’t sure what life held for you, but the pressure alone was enough to weigh you down. 

You let out the deepest sigh as you collapsed your back on the wall next to the pantry where Mikey was standing, the only quiet corner of the house that wasn’t the bathroom which was currently being hot boxed by the Faks. 

He let out a chuckle and a head shake, letting his long hair fall all crazy around him. 

“Just need a minute.” You stared at the ceiling. 

“Feel that.” Mikey was now staring up at the ceiling with you. “Sorry about the craziness.” 

“Ironically, Mikey, this is the most stable environment I’ve been in.” 

“You know that’s fucked, right?” He looked over at you with a smile. 

“Beats sitting in an empty house waiting for a santa that never comes.” You remembered the one Christmas in middle school where your dad told you he was going to visit Santa and to stay in the living room and he’d be back with gifts, he didn’t show back up for 3 days, and all he had in his hand was a public indecency ticket and a 6-pack. “I don’t think you get how much this shit means to me Mikey. You, Sug, Carm, shit, even Richie. You guys saved me, Donna being well,” you pointed to the kitchen as a way to replace any verb that just felt completely underwhelming in comparison of the action, “it’s something I’d happily deal with just to have your guys company.” 

“We love you, kid.” He grabbed your shoulder, staring at you. 

After a moment of silence, you spoke up. 

“You talk to him lately?” 

“No.” He answered quickly. “You?” He was now staring down at the floor, waiting for an answer.

“Not really. Maybe a month ago. He actually called me once, wished me a happy half birthday.” You chuckled and looked over at Mikey who was making a weird face. “It’s like a tradition.” You started to explain since he looked very confused. “We’ve done it since we were kids.” You shrugged. “But other than that and a text to let me know he wasn’t coming home, he hasn’t answered my calls. Barely texts me back.” 

“You know last year, he was standing right there where you are, giving me shit ‘bout talking to Claire Bear for him.” He laughed at the memory while you rolled your eyes. “Jealous?” Mikey caught you and smirked. 

“Barely.” You huffed. “It’s just so crazy you guys can’t see it.” You shrugged and looked at Mikey who was giving you a look like ‘are you going to continue?’. It made you laugh but you obliged. “You’re gonna make fun of me and him for saying this, but Carm, he’s so delicate. He gets tipped off his scale so easily you gotta ease him into things. I bet you, you, Richie, and Fak bum rushed him about how hot she is, and how he needs to hit that and whatever. That shit throws him off, you gotta be smooth with it. When he’s here, he’s waiting for something to tip the scales, that's why it’s so easy to tip.” 

“It was cousin Steve, not Fak, but you’re not wrong, that is what happened.” He nodded, letting his hand rest on the frame across from him as his head dropped and his back was still against the other side of the frame. “It’s like you’re his best friend or some shit.” It was meant as a joke, a light hearted comment but it held a lot more weight for you.

“I don’t know about that anymore.” 

“What happened to you out in Indiana. Could tell shits been different for you since then.” Mikey continued the conversation, his leg now lightly kicking the door frame as a subconscious tik. 

“Some really fucked shit happened. After all of it, I went to see Carmy, could tell he was working really hard to separate himself from this, and I just so happen to be a part of this. I think I tip the scales.” 

“If it makes you feel better, I most definitely tip the fuckin’ Carmy scales.” Mikey laughed, looking back down at the ground. 

“You know, you’re like a brother to me, Mikey.” That comment brought his eyes back up to you, his head nodding and his hair flopping all over the place as he acknowledged you. 

“I love you like a sister, you know this, sometimes even more than Sugar, you don’t ask Ma if she’s okay 20 times a day.” He teased, a smile growing on his face. 

It was nice to see him smile, it was so rare these days it felt like. 

“Your moms scales are easily tipped, too. Probably where Carm gets it.” You were now walking past him in the door frame and sitting on the radiator box that was parallel to the stairs. “Guess I got my dad’s scales, untippable.” You shrugged as you jumped up. 

“Think I got mine’s too.” Mikey’s eyebrows raised, he shifted his positioning, so he was facing you since you moved, but quickly mimicked how he was standing before, back against the door frame, hand on the opposite side holding him up. “How is your Pops?” 

You laughed and shook your head. “It’s Christmas Eve so, drunk, probably in a casino.” 

“Some things don’t change.” His eyes were now connected to yours. 

“And yet I feel like I can’t recognize my life anymore.” Your legs began to kick back and forth slightly hitting the radiator beneath you.

“Well, a lot of things do change.” Mikey shrugged, a smile growing on his face at the irony of his statements. 

“Funny guy.” You smiled back. 

“Bear made me this drawing that Christmas. Told me about Copenhagen.” He let out a deep sigh. “I tipped the scale though.” 

“He just misses you, Mike. Wishes he was doing this with you.” It was spoken like it was so obvious and Mikey missed all the signs. 

“He told you that?” It was curious how he asked, like he knew all along, but there was some shit no one but him knew that prevented it all from happening. 

“No, but I know he told you that, he’s my best friend, I've known him since we were kids, I know what he’s thinking before he thinks it.” You spoke jokingly but obviously.

“It’s just a mess here.” Mikey wasn’t in the mood to joke about this and you could tell that immediately.

“But it’s home.” You spoke in the same seriousness.The doorbell rang and you looked at Mikey and quickly nodded your head to the right. “I’ll get it.” 

Mikey stayed leaning against the pantry’s door frame as you walked over to the front door. With a smile, you tossed open the door, expecting to see Pete or even one of the Fak’s since they always managed to lock themselves out every year but your heart dropped when you saw him. 

“Hey, I uh, called your dad, said I could probably find you here.” 

The last time you saw this man was when Richie was pointing a gun at him in the middle of The Beef which was last year. That added with the fact that he mentioned talking to your father, you barely got to talk to him and he can just call him up and he offers up your information like its nothing. The feeling of your heart dropping was quickly being replaced with rage bubbling in every part of your boddy, but your hands and arms specifically. 

“What the fuck do you want.” It must’ve been obvious you were getting angry because the man in front of you lifted his arms in a sense on innocence but you knew there was nothing innocent about him. 

“Was back in the area, missed you, I know how much you love the holidays, figured maybe we could go out, catch up, or not talk at all.” His eyebrows raised and as he was talking you definitely smelt the alcohol on his breath. 

“You should actually get the fuck out of here.” Your hand was firm on the door, despite them shaking, ready to slam it closed. 

The man took a step forward now, his begging mixed with a desire to show power. As his hand rested on the door he began to slightly push it open against yours.  “Don’t be like that, I always hated when you were like that, you’re too pretty to have an attitude that ugly.” 

Suddenly, the pushing on the door stopped and you felt a hand right above yours. Turning you saw Mikey standing behind you, taking all the weight of the door in his hand as he held firm with a deep frown on his face. 

“Pretty sure she told you to get the fuck outta here.” 

You weren’t sure if you were mortified or happy someone had your back right now. 

“I’m talkin’ to the lady, alright, don’t mean to be a bother, you don’t–you don’t gotta get involved.” It was said to be nonchalant but anyone could have read between the lines. 

“No, you’re not talkin’ to the lady.” In a way so opposite of his other hand, Mikey lightly touched your shoulder and smiled at you as he nodded behind him. Quickly he was taking your hand in his and moving you behind him. “C’mere sweetheart, stand right there.” He turned his attention back to the man at the door and hardened his face again. “You’re talkin’ to me. Who are you?” 

“I’m a friend.” He pointed to you and tried to peak past Mikey at you. 

“You ain’t shit. This is my house, my property, and she’s my friend. So I’m gonna need you to get the fuck out of here.” Mikey gripped the guy up with such ease, if it wasn’t for the flex of his muscles and the veins on his arms popping out, it wouldn’t have been obvious as to how hard his grip around this guys neck was. He tossed him down the stairs almost like a ragdoll, it helped that the man was in the bag drunk and had little to no reflexes readily available anymore. “If you ring this doorbell or do any other shit in or around this house, I’ll kill you.” With that the door was being slammed and he was turning to look at you. It broke him to see someone he saw as family so scared, your eyes were terrified still. 

He was tossing his arm over your shoulder and pushing you back through the kitchen and to the dining room where the chaos was. A sure way to keep your mind off everything. 

“Hey, c’mon now. Ignore that, let’s steal one of those cannolis, yea?” 

[natriae]

cw// gojo x reader, traditional-ish feminine views, fem! reader, angst, extremely self indulgent

"wow, y/n you're so much taller then Nobara!" Yuji excitedly states after meeting you. You can't help but compare him to young child not a teenager, especially not a teenager with a literal demon in him. You smile at his statement knowing he meant it to be nice. "you're taller then me!" He gleefully continues after standing next to you.

Your boyfriend, Gojo, moves to rest his elbow on the teen's shoulder. "Yeah, she's handsome right ." Gojo says smirking. You'd think with all his mighty power he'd realize how much that statement bothers you. Stinging more when Yuji giggles and agrees.

Later that day the two of you head out to dinner with Megumi. The three of you move to sit at a small bench while waiting for your table. In your peripherals you can see Gojo whispering to Megumi and giggling, however, Megumi is not at all delighted at his comment. Looking up you notice a few people's eyes drawing down to your legs. Your pants have ridden up to the point they obviously aren't supposed to be capris. You take a deep breath and attempt to pull the pant legs down as much as you can while attempting to hide the uncomfortable amount of your shin showing. While Gojo sinkers at your awkwardness Megumi hands you his jacket to cover your legs with. Looking around the city you see plently of women who actually look like women. At least to society's standards. They're short and cute. Everyone loves them. Your sure Satoru does too.

Opening the door to the bathroom you notice a average height, beautiful girl reapplying her lipstick. Everything you've ever wanted to be. The kind of girl a boy likes. Looking into the mirror you feel to masculine to be a girl. You don't have those soft feminine features no matter how hard you try. No matter how much makeup you apply it's all just lipstick on a pig. Taking a deep breath and fixing your hair you rejoin Satoru and Megumi outside.

One the walk home your attention gets drawn to couple across the street. The man holding his girlfriend bridal style while she snuggles into his chest. Turning your attention back to your boyfriend you ask, "why don't you ever carry me like that?" immediately regretting it after.

"come on you don't want that~" He responds drawing out the end of his sentence. " it would look weird. Your body is so long." He smiles, turning back to look in front of him. You gaze falls to your feet as your hand loosens from his hold.

"yeah you're right" you respond quietly. Another hand grasps yours and holds on tight. You don't need to look up to know it's Megumi. Reminding you he's there to protect you.

nari note: this is just something I've been dealing with recently especially with the amount of short reader fics that have appeared on my timeline.