#about him having a ''yellow hand'' that made him have such a look of genuine despair that was SO fucking funny.

[the-acid-pear]

Something I adore about T-Bag is how subtle but consistent his character development is because as the seasons go on and he spends more time out of the jail (or, in other, worse jails) the more of his worst traits and beliefs he kinda let's go. Which is what makes me passionate about him he really has it in him to improve, to change. By the intro of season 5 he was literally just living alone in a swamp or something and didn't even want anything to do with Michael.

Like it's not that it happens from morning to noon it's just that there's less and less opportunities for him to repeat his problems to the point he just stops doing it altogether willingly it's just really neat. I just enjoy it.

[lxnarphase]

guide you all the way down, be your nightlight

up to the challenge : ⌞no nut november⌝ edition [ pt 1 - pt 3 - pt 4 ]

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : nanami kento + h. hiromi + k. choso

☾₊‧⁺...cw : fingerfucking, squirting, dirty talking, begging, deep throating condom breaking, excessive cum, riding, kento being lovey-dovey, hiromi nearly loses his mind, choso being whiny and desperate, reader is on birth control but choso is just worried about the mess of no condom, choso's part is very long and indulgent

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : to the anon who requests choso and nanami, i hope you don't mind i threw higuruma in here too, i really wanted to include him since he gives the vibes of being in the middle between nanami and choso 🖤 thank you so much for the request !

✧ n. kento lasts : entire month

you were the one to bring this up to kento, mentioning in passing that gojo wouldn't shut up about this 'challenge' he and geto were going to participate in. with a hum, he asks if you were trying to suggest something to him. if you wanted him to try this little 'game,' he wouldn't mind...as long as you'd let him pamper you all month. and he really does; he's breezing through each day as though nothing is wrong. kento's still as sweet as ever, constantly cuddling you, taking you out on formal dates, and telling you how much he loves you. he manages well the entire November, only showing weakness whenever you try to tease him. but of course, if you're going to try and break his streak, he just spreads you out on the bed, fingerfucking you until you squirt all over his hand. eventually, the whole month flies by, and kento genuinely feels relief that it's over. but he's a little shocked when he comes home, and you're dressed in a pretty, yellow matching lingerie set as you drag him into the bedroom that's filled with candles and roses...he pampered you all month, now it was his turn to be pampered.

"kentooo~" having you between his legs like this, cooing his name so sweetly, causes a shiver to shoot down his spine. you look so adorable, so gorgeous on your knees and pressing kisses up and down his length. those pretty kiss marks would be burned into his mind for weeks. but what makes his stomach flip the most? is that look in your eye. that needy, desperate, loving gaze...it made his cock twitch in your hands. "darling, please," he sighs, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. you smile at him, you fucking smile at him like you aren't peppering his cock in kisses. with a little nip to his thumb, you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. "just focus on me, okay, ken?" he nods, sucking in a breath when your lips press against the tip of his dick. "fuck, princess, god, when you suck me down like that-!" the calm, sweet environment was gone now, with the way you sloppily sucked his cock. it was so fucking messy, your lipstick smearing all over his shaft as your manicured hand cupped his balls, softly massaging them as you felt your spit dripping down to your hand. "yes, yes, just like that, princess, k-keep going. oh, you're so fucking beautiful with my cock in your throat, 'm gonna cum soon in that pretty throat," he oh-so gorgeously moans for you, throwing his head back as he tries not to buck up into your hot mouth. for being such a refined, put-together man, kento loves when you give him such messy head, seeing how your lipstick is smeared everywhere, your chin dripping with precum and saliva. you could feel him throb in your throat just from the view. your kento is so sweet like this, doing his best not to fuck your mouth. but could anyone blame him when your mouth is so hot and wet? god, he never wants you to stop, not when you make him feel so greedy. each time you take him down your throat, kento swears he's going to cum, his head lolling back again as he lets out a deep groan of your name when you take all of him down like it's nothing. he wanted nothing more than to grab you by your hair and fuck your mouth like he wanted...but he wouldn't. no, he's going to keep letting his darling pamper him how she wants...but when he keeps just moaning your name so sweetly, begging you to let him cum... "p-please, honey, I'm so close, let me cum, my pretty girl, let me cum, I'll do anything-!" how could you say no to that?

✧ h. hiromi lasts : entire month

by the end of the first week, hiromi realizes how much he fucking regretted doing this. dealing with his cases has him so stressed he's surprised he didn't go completely grey. every time he comes home, he just wants to love on you, his darling little wife, but he can’t because he’s already dedicated to beating this foolish challenge. so while he can't cum, he is sure to take his frustrations out on you. but it literally crushes him each time he makes you cum, whether it be with his hands, mouth, or dick, and you look at him with those cute pleading eyes, softly whining for him to let you take care of him and make him cum too.

you are too cute for your own good, nearly causing hiromi to cave in several times as the month progressed. even you can see how it was affecting him, as he gets more and more desperate to make you cum, his eyes always zeroed in on your face to ensure your feeling good. he was a prideful, strong man, but fuck, he was so frustrated and pent up that he started to beg you to cum. "you're close, right? i can feel it, sweet thing. just listen to your pussy, she's so wet and sloppy, just from my fingers," he groans into your ear, sounding so wrecked and needy, and he hasn't even touched himself once. but you can hear it, the annoyance in his tone. hiromi is so close to breaking, to giving up and you nearly beg him again to just fuck you, but your eyes catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. 12:27 am. it was december. he did it, he fucking made it, and you were desperately clawing at his wrist, trying to get his attention. "'romi, 'r-'romi! 's december, you made it, please, pull it out, t-take your dick out, 'romi, need you in me so bad!" with a quick glance to the clock to make sure you weren't fucking with him, hiromi lets out a delirious laugh, undoing his pants enough to pull his throbbing cock out, and he easily folds you in half, sliding his tip through the sopping wet mess between your thighs. "i made it, didn't i? i made it. so now you're gonna reward me, right?" you squeal when you feel the tip of his cock get caught on the entrance of your hole and nudge in juuust enough for you to cry out his name, gushing from the little stimulation it gives you. "look at you...I've been neglecting this little cunt, my fingers aren't enough, my mouth isn't enough. no, no, she needs t' be stuffed with a thick, fat cock to make 'er cream...isn't that right, angel?"

✧ k. choso lasts : 30 minutes

choso was stupid. he was so fucking stupid for even thinking he could do this challenge. he literally heard about it from yuuji before but had no idea what it meant. so here he was, looking at the calendar on his phone. it was mid-morning, and 5 minutes ago, he decided to do this challenge. choso should've remembered that he was a desperate man when it came to you because the second you come out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes as you sleepily greet your boyfriend, he knows he's fucked. but seeing you in his black t-shirt and likely nothing else and choso let out a shaky sigh. just looking at you has his mind racing with all the different ways he wants to have you. you’d look really cute in his lap with a blissed-out smile on your face. with a needy whine, he stands up, dragging you back to the bedroom as he greedily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and moaning against your lips.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, 'm sorry, you look s' cute, so pretty, m-my pretty baby, y-your cunt is sucking me in—!" choso is a mess, fucking into you from behind. his hands grip your hips, keeping your ass up in the air as his cock abuses your insides, his hot, thick tip smushing against your cervix. he's fucking you into the mattress, his moans mixing with yours and those sweet, wet squelching sounds coming from your pussy, sucking his cock back in with each pull out of you. "moan louder, please? m-move your head, stop muffling yourself w-with the pillow," he whines, his body hovering over yours. you can feel drool dripping from his mouth onto your back, and just the feeling makes your eyes roll back. knowing he was so needy and desperate just to get his dick wet inside of you that he was drooling all over you made your walls clench so hard around him. "c-cho, 's too fucking deep, b-baby, 'm gonna cum," you sob, hands clawing into the pillowcase. instantly, you feel choso grip you harder, barely pulling out of you as his hips slap against yours in a bruising fashion, your body jolting up the bed with how hard he was fucking you. "don' run, please,, don' run from it," he whimpers, choking on a sob as he feels himself twitch inside your gummy walls, his hips stuttering against yours when you keen, pushing back against him when he hits a spot that feels so good. "fuck, f-fuck, 'm cumming, your pussy's so good, so wet, so fuckin' hot, 'm sorry, 'm cumming-!" despite his orgasm rushing over him, he keeps fucking you, his eyes rolling back as he moans your name over and over again, begging you for...something. he doesn't notice the sudden change, but you do, suddenly feeling warm and full inside as he keeps pounding into you. your eyes snap open, and you whine, turning a little to press your hand against his chest. "cho, h-honeyyyy! t-the condom, you broke the condom, you're cummin' in me!' you can't lie, it feels so good, and you feel your head swimming as he pumps thick seed into your needy cunt. it's another minute until he's done, and he starts to pull out but sees how creamy his cock is...and the way the condom is ripped at the top. he...he just came in you. his thick cum was starting to drip out of you, and your hand came up to press against your hole, not wanting to drip it onto the mattress. but he only registered it as you wanting to keep it inside...you wanted his cum? you wanted him to fill up that pretty pussy? he didn't even realize he was speaking out loud, quickly peeling off the broken condom and lining back up with your creamy cunt. "i-i don't mind it, choso, b-but t-take the condom off b-before you-chooo, babyyy, w-wait, that's so deep-!" "s-shhh, s'okay, you can take it, take it for me, 's okay, i always make it fit, i-it fits so good, pretty cunt, 's all mine, 'm gonna cum 'n you over and over again until your a creamy little mess, baby, i-i'll eat it outta you too, promise, promise, just let me stuff you, please!" hm, maybe he'd tell you later this was supposed to be a challenge...maybe not and just pretend like he needed you real bad today.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[hanchette]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 : ( wind breaker characters )

a/n : THIS IS SO LONG anyway, part 1/3 of long fluff scenarios as you guys voted!!!!

consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader, crushing stages/established relationship — giving them bento boxes

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐎, has always been particular in the things he eats and today is no different, except for that fact that you had initially planned to cook for him.

now, suo made a wrong timing or perhaps right? he entered your house with the plan to spend more time with you.

"what are you cooking?" he has his hands hovering around your waist, chin on your shoulder as he looks past your shoulder to see what you are cooking.

"just.. omelette."

"i see~"

you expected him to let go of you and allow you to cook in peace but suo never part from you, one curious eye looking content to watch the the sizzle of the egg as it turns from translucency to yellow.

there's something so domestic with just this that you can't help but allow the silence the linger, "it smells nice."

"food are supposed to smell nice suo." you smile, "like natto."

there's a stiff silence, and you're made briefly aware of how his arms snaked around your middle, face leaning towards you as his breath fans your ear, lips brushing against your lobe.

"I'm not sure about that." his soft and lovingly kind voice tinted with seriousness that it just wants you to fall into heaps of giggles.

"i am." you continue, finding how his displeasure for the natto somewhat hilarious. suo, although still maintaining the usual smile, stiffen more through his actions.

his arms squeezing you lightly as a small warning, "you do know that natto doesn't smell like anything." he adds, although the tone of his voice sounds a tad just defensive.

"i'm kidding~ you know i won't add natto to the food."

"i wasn't saying anything."

"you didn't have to."

it went on like that, small comments and bickers as the two of you stand in the kitchen with you preparing the box, suo every so now and then helping you out with great patience. "why do you have to put it in a box?" suo questions, washing the used dishes diligently as he looks at your 'masterpiece' as you decorate it.

"i was supposed to give it to you." supposed to, but he did dropped by rather early and now you were left with presenting it to him even though the two of you did it.

"ahhh." suo blink owlishly before a smile erupts, "i see."

squeezing the water out of his hands, he then picked a nearby napkin to dry his hand quick and then went to your side, assessing your work. "how creative, so you can make various shapes with it."

"that and animals, like this!" you showed him, making quick work with the nori seaweed to add final touches to the bento, showing it to him with great pride.

suo claps his hands in a proud motion, "you know, y/n-chan, if you give this to a child, they'll be genuinely happy." he comments, humming in delight upon looking at the various shapes and designs that you did using the food.

"really?"

"yeah, you'll make a great spouse/wife/husband." suo smiles.

𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐍, "hah..?" kaji has heard of bento boxes, but he never received one personally. no matter how famous he is as a member of bofurin, kaji is also infamous for his unsavory personality as others would describe him.

"what is this?" he stares at the sunny egg that stares at him, looking like a mischievous child with its mouth curving like that of a cat.

"a bento..?" you blinked, looking at his reaction as he reluctantly covers it, "you gave it to the wrong person." kaji gives it back to you, hand outstretched.

you smile at him, lightly pushing the bento box back to him, "no, i think i gave it to the right person, kaji-san." you replied, cocking your head to the side while kaji stares at you, seemingly skeptical before putting the box back on his lap with silence.

he's seated on the side of the street where you found him, near a stairway that leads to a small quaint bridge all alone, according to him, kusumi and enomoto both went for a bit to get something quick from the konbini.

"..." kaji stayed silent, looking at the given present, biting into his sucker as the crystallized candy cracks and breaks into pieces only for him to swallow them and pocket the stick—most likely to throw it later.

the thing with kaji, you would always see him wearing his headphones and taking his suckers, but whenever you're around, somehow, his headphones are off and he'd bite into the sucker to crack the candy in order to throw the stick—therefore, he can talk to you clearly.

he uncovers it once again, staring at the laid out cutesy designed food in front of him, he blankly looks at the food before taking the chopsticks that are set on the side.

he hesitantly takes a bite, as if afraid of ruining your work. though kaji is known with his temper, he can be surprisingly gentle. "so, how is it?" you inquire, smiling at him as you watch his cheeks puff as he chews.

he didn't opt to talk, choosing to chew everything before answering.

"it's delicious..."

he placed another food in his mouth. his reply made you beam in relief, somehow he had enjoyed it.

"then! i'll make sure to bring you another one again!" you settled into a decision, taking a seat beside him on the stair.

"it's unnecessary." he clicks his tongue, taking another bite.

"i want to though."

kaji went silent once again, you can't tell if it is because he is busy eating or thinking about your response too deeply, when he swallows the food, he finally replies. "do what you want."

and with the permission given, you beamed, happy that you'll be able to do atleast even this much for kaji.

the two you sit in silence, it's not awkward, no you'd disagree, rather, it's an itching feeling like a rash attempting to crawl its way except there is none.

you didn't even realized how much you've gone out of reality until you hear slight clanking from your sides. "eh? you're done already?"

and in some way, you can't stop the smile from coming back just to see kaji scowl as he looked away, tucking the box and dirtied chopsticks away. "tch."

"pass it here, i can clean that when i get home." you opened your palm, outstretched as you await for him to place the box in your hands.

"no."

"no?" you raised an eyebrow, watching as kaji tucked it beside him.

"i can clean it up," he exhaled, one of his hand going inside the pocket of his pants to retrieve a sucker, "then imma give it back to you next time."

"you don't have to trouble yourself with that you know, kaji-san." you tried again, finding yourself lost why he won't hand it to you.

kaji stood up, the box under his arm, his back facing you. "ren."

"huh?"

"when i give it back to you next time," kaji paused, looking at you through his shoulder, "call me ren."

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, sat on one of the stalls, fanning himself as he popped open a bottled tea, taking a sip before dropping it back down on a table beside him.

the festival is only starting, the lanterns light flicker, swaying left and right in a calming but hypnotizing motion.

you followed sitting beside him with a sigh, able to take a break from the onslaught of customers. today is the same as any other, jo would invite you with him to help the elders in the festival set up and sell their goods. and you would accompany him willingly.

this has been a ritual for how many long now, ever since you met him when he was nothing yet but a middle schooler, now he's in his second year.

it's been a while.

"here." you felt something cool press on your cheek, turning to the side to see togame grinning at you, his hand pressing the cool tea on your cheek. "drink up."

you graciously accepted it, opening the cap as you stare at it. he..

he gave you his own drink..

you shake your head, getting rid of the thoughts before taking a sip.

"heh, that good, yeah?" togame leans forward, his hand holding his head up as he places it on his thigh, watching you chug a good amount. "it must've been tiring, sorry for always troubling you to come with me."

"don't be." you closed the drink, setting back down as you look at him, "i willingly followed you, plus, it doesn't hurt to help every now and then."

a soft grin follows, his lips twitching up as he chuckles lightly, "i thought so."

"ahhhh, I sure am hungry, you wanna grab something real quick?" togame offers, jabbing behind his shoulder where an array of stalls are lined up.

you are suddenly aware of what you had finished this morning. how you meticulously crafted a lunch box to give to togame, frying omelettes and shaping them to small rilakkuma bears, that and how you meticulously shapes the rice balls into more makeshift animals.

"ah, actually-!" you cut yourself, unsure if you should really give it.

would he even like it?

"hm? what's wrong?" togame looks back at you curiously, blinking in surprise as he patiently waits for you to answer.

no matter how loud the festival is, all you could hear is the persistent thump thump thump of your little heartbeat. still, you harden your resolve.

it's the only opportunity you have to confess to him!

"i brought be- bento.." curse it all! was it necessary to stutter? no! so why did you?! it's the nerves that are messing you all up, you breathe out a deep exhale. "ah.." togame's eyes widen in surprise before it morph into a pleased grin.

"you should've said so, chibi-chan." he reaches, ruffling your hair and messing them up, but you couldn't care less for now—not when his large hands, cold from touching the cool tea, are on your head.

sure, togame has been someone you've known for a while now, but even then, you've never shown any interest to deepen whatever kindred that the two of you shared, afraid of widening the gaps if you pour your heart out to him.

togame whistles, gently taking the bag from your shaking hands, "nice one, chibi-chan."

"i told you not to call me that repeatedly." you murmured, slightly pouty but you never sulked, he merely laughs at you, opening the box to reveal nothing but a hidden treasure.

sure, you had burnt a few of it, but nothing too serious to cause food poisoning.

"hmm, they're all animals." he chuckles, popping one of the sushi in his mouth.

"that's because you're an animal." you bicker with him, attempting to hide the look of unrequited adoration through it. this is why, why your relationship with him never fell. never soared. "really now?"

you opened your mouth, but is immediately greeted by a food in your mouth. "chew." togame says, watching as you do so with a chuckle.

there isn't much you could do but follow or waste a perfectly good food after all. "then, if i get to pick what i am..."

"maybe a tern?"

"what is that?"

"a bird."

"why the hell would you pick a bird?" you question, togame merely shrugs, taking another bite and giving another one to you, before he could throw another in his mouth, he points at the paper beside you—which was primarily used to count the sales coming in.

you gave it to him alongside a pen, he wrote something briefly before giving it to you, "here, search it later?" he feeds you another, all the while you grumble why he's continuously feeding you.

when you went home, you opened the paper inside your pocket, going to google to search it only to gasp in shock, flustered.

Courtship feeding is frequently seen in terns.

𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄, you owed him a lot. umemiya has saved you a bunch of times more than you can count and you're aware of that.

the only saving grace you could offer him was giving him mundane things to showcase your gratitude, and now here you are walking towards the famous school known as bofurin with a lunch bag in your hands.

umemiya has told you many times how much you are welcome to come and visit, although you never had the courage to do so until now.

calm down, calm down, calm down you tell yourself, head hung low and lips pursed as you walk through the halls, feeling gazes on you. they pierce through you that shivers run down your back although you kept on walking. it's fine, you could only assure yourself, after all, tasuku-chan is beside you, making sure that no one will bother you.

"are you nervous?" tsubakino asked, his hand on yours, "don't be!" he encourages, attempting to lift up your spirits as he led the two of you to the top of the school grounds.

you often wonder how he can always be so confident. it's nice. "if anything happens, you can always call me, okay?" he bids you, giving you a sweet wink before closing the door and allowing you privacy.

privacy as you enter the rooftop in search of the man who always intrudes in your mind.

"umemiya-san?"

"hm? ah! it's you y/n-chan! wassup?" umemiya notices you in a second, a grace of a smile on his face as he wiped his sweat from the beat of the heat on him as he water his vegetables. "look look!" he ushers you excitedly, and you follow.

ending up beside him as you peer at whatever he is pointing at in a giddy manner. "the tomatoes are already turning ripe!"

so it seems, the shade ranges from a pretty green to gradient of yellowish red. it's growing. "pretty isn't it?" he wears a charming look on his face as he asked.

"uhm, umemiya-san," you started, digging through your bag to offer him a nicely wrapped box, "i came to give my thanks for yesterday.. you know what happened and how i dragged you to my mess then-.." you babbled.

a part of you panicked, what if he won't accept it? oh no what if you burnt something? worse, he doesn't like it?!

before you could talk more, umemiya presses his palm on your mouth, "y/n-chan." he calls your name, unlike before, the excited cheer is gone, replaced by a tender feeling that always has your tummy reeling that sometimes you think you'll need to ask hiiragi for some of his gas-kun10.

"thank you." he tells you, a sincere look in his eyes, "and don't be sorry, you are a part of this town, of course i will always help you."

he takes off his hand, "just call my name and i will come." a part of your mind silences, thinking that you are nothing but somebody to umemiya no matter how hard you try. a part of the town.

but the way he looks so genuine, so sweet as he smiles and looks at you overpowers everything that there's nothing more you can hear but the thudding in your own heart.

umemiya takes the bento from your hands, "now then! bento are better eaten together!"

classic umemiya pulls you up, tugging you to the shed where you know he always held his meeting with his grade captains and his trusty teams.

"uwaahh! these are so good! is that an egg made into a star inside a sushi? ohhh! there's even an octo sausage!" you watch as his face break into a grin, assessing each food with a pleased look.

"itadakimasu!" umemiya takes a bite, humming in delight upon chewing, "so good!" you're sure that if he is an anime, there's flowers all around him.

"here, y/n-chan, ahhh."

"me?!" you gasped, pointing at yourself, "well yeah, we can share, there's enough for the two of us."

"but-"

"after all, i love eating food with you." how could you say no nor argue any further to that?

reluctantly, you agreed, opening your lips to take a bite off of the chopsticks held towards you, "thank you."

"you're a good cook, y/n-chan." umemiya comments with a bright expression, "i wouldn't mind if you cook for me in the future too." somehow, his words felt deeper than it should be.

[babygorewhore]

I’m in control

Cooper Adams x fem reader

Working at an arena definitely had its benefits. Getting free concert tickets and discounts for family members. Your employers prepare you for the arrival of the famous serial killer the Butcher but you have no idea how close he actually is.

Warnings! Light thigh riding! Fingering! Finger sucking! Age gap! Reader is mid twenties and he’s in his mid forties! Requested by anon! W.C 1.3k

Yall I saw this movie and I’m obsessed with him. Sorry not sorry. Be gentle this is my first fic with him and I think maybe the first one with this character.

“Don’t forget I won’t be able to take you home until everyone is gone and everything is cleaned up!” You call after your younger sister. Her recent graduation of high school rewarded her a up close and personal experience at this concert. She waves off your reminder as you roll your eyes and stand around the VIP area.

You didn’t mention to her that today was supposed to be the arrest of the serial killer The Butcher. It gave you shivers to hear about his crimes during your staff meetings. Preparation for any sort of confrontation brought tension to your shoulders all day as you worked. This job supported you in nursing school and gave you access to concerts. It was a win win.

You sighed and watched people walk by. Every male was to be stopped and questioned by the police. It was dull if you were being honest. It was going to be a while before you were able to leave so you decided to kill some time in a private room.

You blinked in surprise when you opened the door to see a man already in there. He was tall, really tall and muscular. Wearing a sweater, yellow jacket and jeans. You had seen him briefly earlier with a teenage girl, assuming it was his daughter. He was roughly in his forties you guessed. Handsome. Very handsome. Enough to give you awkward pause before you cleared your throat.

“Excuse me, sir. This is for employees only. Can I help you with something?” You tried to keep your voice steady as he loosened a huff of laughter.

“Ah, I’m sorry I know I’m not allowed to be back here. But I have to be honest. The police are making me nervous. My daughter she was really looking forward to this concert and I’m just worried for her safety.”

His tone seemed genuine but there was a darkness in his brown eyes that made you feel alert. You nodded slowly as he took a step forward with a gentle smile. “So…have they caught him yet?”

Your pulse quickens and you part your lips to answer but the stranger chuckles again.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what’s going on, sugar. I know they’ve given every employee the rundown of the big scary Butcher. And I can tell you’re just…aching to tell someone what you know.” When he said the word, “aching.” He glanced down at your legs.

“Sir, I-i really don’t-“ He clicked his tongue, resting both hands on either side of your head, you could smell his cologne from his close proximity as he pressed you against the door.

“No need for formalities, sweetheart. I just want you to answer one question.”

You were afraid and…aroused as he leaned down and whispered in your ear. “How can I avoid the police?”

Your body trembled when he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. What the fuck was happening? You gasped as the stranger’s large hand moved down and cupped your waist.

“I-I don’t know-you can’t avoid them-“ You stutter as he shakes his head, nudging his thick thigh in between your legs. His size was massive as he was holding you up.

“I don’t think that’s true. The tension in your body tells me you’re lying. I’m good at spotting liars, baby.” You whimper as he encourages you to rub your covered cunt on his knee.

“Really, sir I don’t know. I’m not a manager or anything. I’m just a normal worker and we were told to just be careful and use the code word.” You pleaded as he sets both hands on your hips, guiding them to move harder and higher on his thigh. “No, no, there’s nothing normal about you. You know something. You’re smart and you’re going to tell me.” His voice indicated no room for argument and you were too distracted by the coiling in your stomach to argue.

“You’d have to be with the singer. She has to-“You moaned as he finally slipped his hand inside your pants, pushing aside your underwear with a nod. His fingers grazed your clit and you whined as he gave your pussy a smack.

“She has to what? Use your words, baby doll. I know you can do it.”

All common sense left your brain as he worked in two fingers inside you, curling them deep as you panted and leaned your head back. You had no idea what was happening, who this guy was or why he wanted to know. But you lost yourself and whined.

“She has to tell them you’re with her. She has her own security so-you’ll be clear-oh god.” You squealed as he gripped your chin, continuing to fuck you with his fingers as he forced you to look him in the eye.

“Very good. I’ve had…a long day. And I just can’t waste any more time with the fucking police.” He whispered, hovering over your mouth.

Your climax was nearing as he shoved his fingers impossibly deeper, almost painfully but he balanced it by massaging your clit with his thumb. Your eyes watered as he wrapped the hand holding your chin around your throat.

That sent you over the edge as you came all over his fingers. Your entire body heated as you moaned and dug into his shoulders as he fingered you through it.

Slowly, you came down from your high and breathed heavily as he slowly pulled out his hand. The stranger brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, shoving them in as he forced you to suck them clean. Your eyes were wide and teary as you stared at his dark smile.

“Thank you so much for your help. It’s nice to see employees taking their job seriously.” He smoothed his hair back as you shook. He removed his fingers and gently side stepped you.

He opened the door and you inhaled while blinking away any left over shock. “Wait! You didn’t even tell me your name!”

The man stopped and turned around. Horror chilled your blood as he gave you a wink and started walking away. You knew in that moment exactly who you just helped.

The Butcher.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @redhead1180 @nemesyaaa @oceandriveab @gothcsz @sararuno @horrorpiggy @lovalova444

[sanguineterrain]

sunset anew | dick grayson

Summary: You're a little nervous to become the Mrs. Grayson. Luckily, your husband-to-be knows just what to say to soothe your worries. 

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader 

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: wedding, anxious reader, the batfam actually gets along, fluff!! (dick is my wife.)

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

Contrary to popular belief, Gotham isn't a complete eyesore. 

Sure, it's no vacation spot, and it's probably not the ideal place to settle down. But there are beautiful parts within the grunge. 

Your wedding planner had shown you multiple locations, from Napa to the Bahamas. Bruce had insisted cost was no problem.

But that wasn't what made you choose Gotham. 

Your forearms rest on the polished stone-top railing that surrounds the rooftop of the nicest hotel in the city. Thirty-two floors, all rented out for you. 

You look down at the tiny cars and people below. Your heart swoops. 

Your heels are in one hand. The sun crests the horizon; soon, yellow will melt into buttery orange and pink. It’s the first sunset you knew. The only sunset you know. And it’s the same one you saw the first time you met your almost-husband.

You'd come up here so you wouldn't miss it. Just this one time.

“Found her!”

You jump as the roof access door opens. Damian and Duke walk out. Duke gives you a warm smile.

"Jesus, you guys," you say, hand on your chest. “Way to scare a girl.”

“Sorry. You look really nice,” Duke says, smoothing his bowtie. 

Damian crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed.

“Frightening you is the least of our concerns. We thought you’d run. Which would be understandable, considering the family you’re marrying into, but Father spent a lot renting the hotel. Plus, Grayson would’ve been inconsolable, and extremely annoying.”

“Dude,” Duke says, elbowing Damian. “Chill out. It’s not like she was actually going to leave him at the altar.” He squints at you. “Were you?”

“No! I wasn’t going to leave him at the altar, oh my God.”

Damian nods. “Good." He taps his watch and speaks into it. "Grayson, our work is done. Come to the roof.”

Duke gives you a wave and they wordlessly leave the way they came. You sigh and start to slip your heels back on. There’s some whispering at the bottom of the stairs, and Damian shouts “no!” before it’s silent. 

You have one heel on when Dick emerges.

He’s unfairly handsome in his tux, hair somehow both neat and tousled. He also has what looks to be Damian’s tie wrapped around his eyes. You step out of your heel, unsure.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you."

"It’s okay, baby. Why are you blindfolded?"

"Bad luck to see the bride, duh."

You can't help your idiotic grin at that. "I think it'll be fine, Gray. You didn’t have to take his tie.”

"Maybe you haven't met my family; we're not known for our good luck streaks.”

"I'm madly in love with you,” you say, feeling gooey.

Dick beams, and you nearly forget about the sunset altogether. 

"I'm madly in love with you too." 

You kiss him and he blindly returns it, following your lips even after you step back. You cluck your tongue and nudge him away. He obeys, though not without sliding his hand onto your waist and tugging you away from the roof. You follow because he's such a worrier.

Dick reaches for your hand and squeezes. 

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. Sorry I disappeared. I didn’t know the calvary would be sent after me.”

“Yeah, uh…” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Again. I got worried.”

The guilt sinks its claws deeper. You frown and touch his cheek. 

“I would never leave you at the altar, Dick.”

“I know! I know that. They’re idiots; don’t listen to ‘em, whatever they said."

You cup his face with both hands and kiss him again. He squeezes your wrists and you can feel the relief rolling off him in waves, as much as he tries to hide it. 

“Was my absence noticeable?” you ask.

"Just to us. Don’t worry about it. The Wayne family are professional crowd entertainers."

"I take it Bruce is doing card tricks?"

"Yep,” Dick says. “He’s pretty good too. Might retire the suit." 

You laugh. "Sorry I'm missing it."

"Trust me, you'll get your fill soon."

“We can go down now,” you offer, even though you’re still waiting for that sunset. 

He shakes his head. “There’s no rush.”

You smile and rest your head on Dick's shoulder. He accepts you instantly and wraps his arm around your waist.

"You feel really beautiful," he says. 

"Charmer."

"I'm serious!"

"I know. That's why I'm so damn sweet on you, Gray."

"I've got a shot with you, then?" he asks. 

"Oh, big time." 

He nuzzles your neck. You breathe in his scent: wine from earlier, detergent, the hair gel he uses to effortlessly capture the bed head look. 

"We didn't have to do this today, you know,” he says, voice vibrating through you. 

You pick your head up in alarm. 

"What're you talking about?" 

"If-if you're getting cold feet, I mean," he adds. "Second thoughts. We can always reschedule."

"Dick, no, I'm not getting second thoughts. I want to marry you today. I will marry you, okay? We've been together for almost four years."

"So? You know how long Batman and Catwoman have been skirting around each other? We've all got a wager going. Including Alfred!"

You snort. "Okay, well, excuse me if I don't want your family to bet on how long it's going to take us to marry."

"Afraid that ship's sailed."

"Of course it has."

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. His arms drape over your hips. You trace the shape of his lips with your index, up his Cupid's bow and up the tip of his nose. Dick has such a lovely nose. You've always thought so. 

“So who bet that I’d actually made a run for it?”

“That feels like a trick question,” he says. 

“Jason?"

“Jason adores you, actually. He didn’t doubt your loyalty once.”

“Damian had his doubts." 

“Damian's thirteen, he doesn’t know shit.”

You snort and kiss his cheek. “Well, I forgive him. He was protecting you, that’s all.”

"If it helps, everyone else was certain of your loyalty," Dick says, letting you paw at his face. “Myself included.”

"That does help, actually.”

Dick stops your hand in its journey and rests your palm on his cheek. 

"What were you thinking about?" he asks quietly. 

You stiffen a little. "Nothing. Just needed some air."

"You sure?" 

You know what he's doing: feeling your pulse to see if it changes, listening to your breathing, watching if your shoulders tense. He's a detective first, and a damn good one. 

You slump in defeat. 

"What if I'm not… good at this? At being… us?”

"What?" Dick asks in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Of course you’ll be good at it. The real worry is me, babe. I mean, you're incredible. I'm the one who runs around in spandex at night." 

"Gray, I'm serious," you say, resting your head on his heart. "All those people who’ve been watching us, waiting for the future Mrs. Grayson to slip up. I just—I can't help but wonder if it's prophetic. I wonder if maybe you deserve more." 

"Hey. Now I can't predict the future. But even if I could, I don't believe there is a timeline out there where I could ever want or need anyone but you. And you're not alone in this, you know? I'm scared too. I'm terrified I'm putting you in danger. Of fucking up completely. But I also know that sometimes… we get good things, you know? It's not all doom and gloom. I mean, you being in my life is proof of that." 

God, he always knows how to make your heart ache just right. 

"I really want us to work," you whisper, clutching his suit coat. "I just don't wanna let you down, Gray." 

"Baby," Dick says, curling around you. "Sweetheart, where did this come from? What makes you think that? You've never let me down, not once. I love you. It's okay if you feel like you don't know what you're doing, 'cause I don't know either." 

You reach to untie the tie. Dick lightly grabs your hand, but you continue to tug anyway. 

"Wait, babe—"

"Dick, it's okay. I want to see your eyes. Please?" 

He lets you pull it off. He squints at the light, adjusting. Then his gaze drops to you and his lips part.

"Wow," Dick says, hands sliding up your arms. 

You smile. "Like it? Selina helped me pick the dress, so it's all thanks to her."

"Fuck, baby. I wanna marry you right now. Screw everyone down there. Let's elope."

You laugh, combing back his hair with your fingertips and tucking loose strands behind his ears. 

"Gray, you know we can't do that. What about Bruce? He'd be devastated and more than rightfully pissed."

He shrugs. "So what? I'm the favorite, I can get away with it."

"Well, what about Alfred? You'd break his heart."

Dick pauses, mulling that over. You kiss his chin. 

"Damn it," he says. "You're right. I couldn't do that to him. He's arguably more excited about our wedding than we are." 

"Mmhm. But I appreciate your attempt to be spontaneously romantic," you say, smiling. 

Dick tugs you closer still, rubbing your back. 

"I would elope," he says. "If you really wanted to. You could convince me to do just about anything. Even if it unleashed Alfie's wrath."

"Don't tell me that," you chide playfully. "You'll give a girl all sorts of notions." 

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

Dick starts to kiss up your neck and you happily let him, eyes slipping closed. It's good, until—

THUMP!

You jump. Dick immediately pushes you behind him. 

The roof access door swings out so hard it slams against the wall. Jason glares, bowtie already loosened. 

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're gonna miss your own wedding, dumbass!" He nods at you. "Hey, future sis. Looking good." 

"Thanks, Todd." 

"Mm. Everything okay?" 

You smile. "Everything's wonderful."

"Yeah, I'm okay too, thanks," Dick says, scowling. 

"I know you're fine, idiot. Now come put a ring on it before Alfred hunts you down himself." 

Jason turns on his heel, shaking his head. "Responsible one, my ass…"

You look at Dick, grinning. 

"Seems like we should go do the marriage thing," you say.

"Seems like." He squeezes your hip. "Do you feel better?"

"Yeah, Gray. I do. Thanks. I love you."

"Love you too, baby. Let's go marry the hell out of each other." 

The sunset has morphed into a violet night. But you don't mind that you missed it; you know there will be countless sunsets to come. 

[mingigoo]

hi sie!! i'm happy to see that your requests are open and would like to request something myself c: 1. seonghwa 2. roommate au 3. prompts 11 and 17 4. with spice please 🙏 thanks so much! i rly appreciate you and your writing even if you can't get to this 💕

I hope you like this!!! really enjoyed writing this one :)

— sleep-talker || p.sh (m.)

“You know you sleep talk?” 

“Stop looking at me like that.

🌊pairing ⇢ (fem) reader x roommate! Seonghwa

🌊 summary ⇢ when you and your friends decide on a trip to the beach for spring break, you get stuck rooming with the man you "hate" the most. The line between love and hate is as thin as ice, and you were about to break it.

🌊 genre/au ⇢ roommates au, vacation au, one bed trope, forced proximity au, smut

🌊 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, wet dreams, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, PDA, "enemies" to lovers, one-bed trope, teasing, jealousy, intense tension like holy hell

🌊 word count ⇢ 10.2k words

🌊 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yesv01 @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @yukine-smx @y00nzin0 @8tinytings @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts (please let me know if I forgot you!)

masterlist

ateez masterlist

“Are you for real right now?”

Spring break. A time for rest, relaxation, and lots and lots of sex.

And now, your plans of being a whore for the vacation were ruined.

“Yes, y/n. I can't afford another room just for you to have to yourself,” Hongjoong, your older brother, mumbled as he stuffed the last bit of clothes into his luggage. “You’ll have to room with Seonghwa. San and Wooyoung already called each other.”

He zipped up his suitcase and stood up to leave, but he couldn't get off that easily. “Please, Joong. I’ll do anything. Cant I just room with you and Mingi?” he hastily made his way out of his room and into the living room, trying his hardest to get away from you. “I’ll sleep on the floor. No blanket, just the floor. Please.”

He turned to face you, a confused expression on his face. “Why are you so adamant about not staying with Hwa? What did he ever do to you?” he asked you, genuinely curious. The truth is, he did nothing to you personally. Maybe that was why you hated him, because god, if he gave you the time of day, you would pounce on him like a cat in heat.

You groaned, running a hand through your messy, unwashed hair. “Because he’s a dumb ass jerk that gets everything he wants.” 

Hongjoong laughed at you and turned away. “It's only a week, y/n. He’ll probably spend most of his time in our room, anyway. Just bring a book to read or something to distract yourself.”

As if reading is the thing you'll be focused on if you were in a room with him. Oh Nah, you'll be wishing he’d walk around shirtless and hoping he somehow takes a shower and walks out with nothing on—

“I hope you're packed and ready….” Joong trailed off as he looked at your messy exterior, and stifled a laugh. “And if you're thinking of getting laid, you might want to shower.”

You slapped him on the shoulder, having no drive to shower. You'll get one when you get there. It's not like you were that stinky.

“Shut up, dickhead.”

You stood on the sidewalk of your apartment building, Hongjoong’s little yellow Geo Tracker sitting there lookin’ all cute. However, the tiny thing only had five seats.

There were six of you.

“Welp looks like I can't go! What a shame, what a shame,” you sarcastically yelled out, tossing your hands in the air exasperatedly.  “Have fun without me!”

“Shut your mouth, will you?” Hongjoong groaned, tossing your luggage into the “trunk” or whatever it was. “It's only a ride to the airport. You can sit on someone’s lap for ten minutes.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why am I the one that has to do that? Wooyoung is like the size of my arm. He can do it.”

Joong shut the trunk with force at your comment, totally disregarding you. “Hop in,” he said. “Enjoy shotgun while you have the chance.”

You got in reluctantly, even though you were very excited about the beach itself. Your excitement was short-lived as you approached the devil’s lair.

“Stay here, I’ll go help them,” Hongjoong mumbled, pushing his sunglasses up on his forehead as he put the car in park. 

You nodded, your arms crossed over your chest. You didn't mind the rest of the group— San and Wooyoung always knew how to make you laugh, and Mingi was absolutely eye candy. You wouldn't mind sitting on his lap on the way to the airport.

Just as you got comfortable with your head resting against the window, the door abruptly opened, causing you to nearly fall out of the vehicle. “For fuck’s sake, who the hell—” your words got caught in your throat as you met eyes with Park fucking Seonghwa. “Oh, it's you…”

He stood there, his thin torso draped in a sheer white top and his long, lean legs covered in a pair of black pants. You swallowed your drool like a schoolgirl, making sure he never knows how you think of him.

“What?” you raised your eyebrow, not moving an inch and not even reaching to unplug your seatbelt. “This seat’s taken, buddy.”

He snickered, his lips mockingly curled up in a sneer. “Oh, aren't you a sweetheart? Now move, I called shotgun.”

“Well, I did first.”

“No, you didn't.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No.”

“Yes—”

“Neither of you are getting shotgun,” your brother laughed from behind Seonghwa, San and Wooyoung giggling like the goofs they are next to him. You still didn't move, even as Joong approached and unbuckled your seatbelt for you. “Y/N, please help me out here.”

You debated on throwing a fit, but knowing that it would just cause more problems, you sighed and pushed yourself out of the front seat. Now standing on the curb of the sidewalk right in front of Seonghwa, you tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. His gaze was intense—it made you envision what it would be like in bed, looking down at him from above, and how his eyebrows would knit together in pleasure. God, you needed to get laid this vacation, or you were going to be suffering from delusions.

Without warning, Mingi pushed through both of you, interrupting your staring contest.

“We better go, I don't want to listen to their bickering any longer,” the tall boy huffed as he plopped himself in the front seat, a proud smile resting on his lips. 

San sat in the backseat on the right, Wooyoung next to him in the middle. That left either you or seonghwa to fight to the death for that last seat, but you knew how this was going to end.

And it wasn't going to end well.

—

“You comfortable, y/n?” your brother called from the driver’s seat, looking back at you through the rearview mirror.

You frowned so deeply you could've sworn your face was permanently stuck like that.

There you were, in the back of the car, in the most uncomfortable seat ever. Seonghwa groaned underneath you, his bony body not offering you any wiggle room. You didn't answer your brother, you were certain your expression was enough of a response.

You adjusted yourself on Seonghwa’s lap, looking out the window for any distraction. As you moved, you felt him move his hips, and you had to shut away your filthy thoughts about him as soon as they came. Between his movements and his groans, your stomach was knotting in something more than butterflies.

The car was filled with conversation, however, you and Seonghwa remained quiet and in your own little worlds. As the others bantered, you pushed yourself up further on his lap, grimacing as you heard him let out a grunt in your ear. 

And then when his hands gripped onto your bare thighs, you were the one to gasp.

“Stop moving,” he whispered in your ear with haste, almost like a sneer. You kept your vision forward as his breath danced in your ear. “It hurts.”

You swallowed hard. “Oh? Is your little dick that sensitive?” you whispered back, smirking. You moved again, this time on purpose, feeling his bulge through his pants. You kept your cool, ignoring his shaky breaths from behind you. “Are you that happy to see me, Hwa?”

“Shut your mouth or you won’t see the sunrise,” he hissed, but his voice was weak. 

The ten-minute ride felt like an eternity as he breathed underneath you, your mind constantly thinking about how hard he was getting underneath you and how sweet it would be to turn around and face him to see his reaction to you.

You looked to your right, seeing Wooyoung with a knowing smile on his face. “What?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, grinning. “Nothing, nothing,” he said, letting out a giggle. “Just that you both seem…cozy.” 

You slapped him on the shoulder, your movements causing Seonghwa to wiggle underneath you.

“Dammit, Y/N I told you to stop moving,” he seethed, his grip on your thigh tightening. Hongjoong looked back through the mirror, worry in his expression.

“Everything okay?” he asked, meeting your eyes before focusing on the road once again. “We’re almost there, only about a minute or two.”

“Ten-minute ride my ass,” you mumbled, and as you entered the Airport, you should've known that there were going to be speed bumps on the way in….

The shitty old car hopped over the bump, feeling like it hit a huge boulder. You bounced up, not held by any seatbelt, landing hard, right on Seonghwa’s family jewels.

“Fuck,” he cried, tossing his head back against the headrest. Your hands were now holding onto his legs for dear life.

“Joong, will you slow down for those things? Some of us are suffering back here,” you said, to which seonghwa started laughing.

“You're telling me.” he scoffed.

“Okay okay, I just have to park. I have no idea how this works….where the hell is the long-term parking—”

“Probably over there,” Mingi pointed in the opposite direction.

“No, no, I think it’s—”

“I can't take this anymore!” you cried out, leaning forward to assist Hongjoong since Mingi isn't helping. “There's a huge sign in front of us. How can you miss that? It spells it out, dammit.” you huffed, throwing yourself back into your “seat.” This time, he didn't let out a single groan, probably just as fed up with you as you were with him.

Finally, Hongjoong found the lot and parked the car, and as soon as it was stationary, you tossed yourself out of the vehicle like there was no tomorrow. You knew that you couldn't last a minute more on his lap, because if you did, you would be so tempted to turn around and make out with those painfully pretty lips of his. God, he made you so mad. Ever since you met him, there were only the same thoughts circulating round and round. 

Dirty thoughts.

Seonghwa crawled out of the car like a decrepit old spider, his long legs holding up his body with grace. You bit your lip, looking down at where you were sitting on him. Quickly, you looked away as he noticed your gaze, and ran away to go help the others with the luggage.

You weren't quick enough to miss the achingly attractive smirk on Seonghwa’s face.

Why did he have to be so….. libidinous? He was like a wild animal, able to take the lives away of his prey with just an expression.

No more seonghwa on the brain—it was beach time. You were certain you could find someone at a bar to sleep with later, and it wouldn't be Hwa.

Not now, not ever.

—

You got lucky with the plane ride.

Your seat buddy was Mingi, and Hongjoong knew how much you like your window seats.

Mingi nearly slept the whole flight, his head rested against your shoulder. He snored a little, but it didn't matter. The gentle giant had a place in your heart, so he could do no wrong. 

You often stole glances at Seonghwa across the aisle, his head bobbing up and down as he fought his tiredness. He was so much more likable when he was sleeping, but that was definitely due to the fact that he couldn't stare at you with those entrancing eyes or run that mouth of his.

You were the only one awake by the end of the flight. It was difficult for you to sleep in public places. It didn't feel right. So you would fight off sleep as hard as you could and distract yourself with anything around you.

After the fiasco of leaving the plane, you anxiously trailed behind Hongjoong through the busy airport, pushing past loads of people who had places to be. Thank goodness you were able to leave the airport without a fuss, even if seonghwa was nearly breathing down your neck as you exited.

Luckily, the ride to the hotel wasn't far—and there were more than enough seats for all of you. You distanced yourself from Seonghwa, ignoring his hellish gaze.

The hotel you were staying at stood tall, facing the gorgeous blue ocean for a perfect view. You shut your eyes as you took everything in, smelling the saltiness and the warmth of the air. You smiled to yourself, but your delightful moment didn't last long.

Seonghwa bumped into you purposely, digging his shoulder into yours before walking past you toward the hotel entrance. “Hey, what was that for?” you growled, a scowl on your face.

“You were in the way,” is all he said, not even bothering to turn to face you as he spoke. He continued walking, his beautiful silhouette showing through his sheer shirt. Oh, you wanted to tear it off of him so badly.

You let out a huff of air, but then followed your friends into the building, knowing the end was near if you had to share the room with your snack of choice.

Hongjoong went up to the front desk as you and the boys stood near the doorway, waiting for him to check us in. It didn't take him long, and soon enough, he was walking back over, key cards in his hand, and a bright smile on his face. “All checked in! This’ll be our home for the next week.”

San grabbed his key card first. “Are we all on the same floor? Like in a row? It would be no fun if I had to actually put on clothes to go on the elevator.”

“Yes, San, we’re all on the same floor.” Hongjoong held in his laugh, already clearly enjoying his time away from reality. You stood angrily with your arms across your chest next to seonghwa, who didn't look any happier than you. “And will you two brighten up? You’re killing the vibe.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing up at the boy next to you. His dark hair was slightly frizzy from the humidity, sticking to his forehead like it would if he were sweating. You gulped, thinking dirty thoughts once more before regaining your peace of mind. “I’m not doing anything. It’s all him.”

“No, it’s all you, not me.” he retaliated.

“You’re the one that got a hard-on from me just innocently sitting on your lap.”

“You were purposely shoving your ass on me like a freak—”

“You are ruining the vacation already—”

“Annnd we’re not doing this again,” Mingi sighed and then gripped onto your arm to pull you towards the elevator. 

“Let’s go, we got bars to get wrecked at.”

—

“Oh, hell no.”

You dropped your luggage as you entered your room for the week, staring at what was in it.

Or lack thereof.

One bed—a queen, maybe, sat in the middle of the room. A chair was tilted by the sliding glass doors that opened to the balcony, and a lamp stood in the corner. It was cute, of course, but you thought this couldn't get any worse.

Seonghwa walked past you into the room, setting his suitcase on the floor by the chair. “Don't worry,” he hummed, his voice low. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I–” you paused, taking in a breath before continuing. “You can sleep on the bed, I ain't that mean.”

“So you think I’m going to let my best friend’s sister sleep on the floor?” he laughed, but it wasn't out of humor. “That’s funny. I’d get my ass beat.” He sat down on the floor, stretching out his long legs before opening his suitcase. “Just forget about me like you usually do and take the bed.”

You had no snarky remarks to throw at him this time, your eyelids feeling heavier than ever. You sighed, sitting down on the bed with a thud. “Okay, fine. Wake me up when we are going to leave.”

“Yeah yeah,” he snarkily replied, too focused on his luggage in front of him. You shut your eyes slowly, holding on to your consciousness a little longer, before drifting off into a sleep that would cause an unexpected uproar a few hours later.

—

After your amazing nap, you and the boys found your way to a beach bar, sand filling the floor and loud music playing in the background. You took your rightful spot at the bar, sitting right next to Wooyoung, who was already chugging a fruity margarita. 

“You should try this, Y/N,” he let out a satisfied sigh after he finished his gulp. “Tastes like fucking unicorns and rainbows.”

You laughed. “Sounds divine, but I’ll pass and get my whiskey sour.”

He grimaced. “Ew, you should spruce it up a little bit sometimes.”

San sat down on the other side of him, a fancy glass in his hands as well. “Yeah, you’re kind of a bore.”

“San what the—”

“She is, isn't she?” Seonghwa hummed from behind you, and of course, sat his ass in the chair right next to you. You groaned, ignoring him once again, although it was quite hard to not drool as he gulped his beer, his throat bobbing as he drank it.

Fucking hell.

You looked around for any sign of your brother to save you, and once you saw him, you cringed, turning right back around to face the bar. “Dear god, can't he keep his dick in his pants for five minutes?” you shivered, trying to think of anything else other than your brother making out with a random person. 

Seonghwa looked back, a smirk on his face as you ordered your drink. “Hypocrite. Just last week I walked in on you with Mingi in the chem lab,” he snickered, his midnight eyes catching the neon lights behind the bar. “Your tongue was so far down his throat I swear I—”

“Says the guy who I caught watching porn freshman year in the computer lab—”

“Here’s your Whiskey sour,” the bartender awkwardly interrupted, but thank god he did. You quickly chugged it, finishing it within a minute of getting it. He gave you another right away, and you downed that one as quickly as it came. He was cute, a little on the scruffy side, but definitely a good one-night. You gave him a look, feeling accomplished as he smirked a little before serving someone else.

“Maybe you shouldn't drink so fast, y/n,” San murmured from Wooyoung’s side, his strong arms holding his weight against the table. “You get drunk really quick on an empty stomach. Remember what happened last time? You have a bad habit of trying to kiss everything you see.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, setting the empty glass down on the bar. As you did that, you felt the warmth of the alcohol fill your body. “What? Who did I kiss?”

Seonghwa laughed from the other side of you while you focused on San.

“Me.” San blinked. “Tongue and all. But not just me, you kissed the statue outside our campus. You know, that really rusty one?”

You gagged. “Ew, no. stop. No, I didn't.”

“Oh, yes you did,” Seongwha piped in, sipping on his third or fourth beer. “And then you threw up on my shoes when I brought you home.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, taking his beer right out of his hands. “Phew, thank god I didn't kiss you,” you shivered, bringing the bottle up to your lips. After you started chugging it a little bit, Hwa ripped the bottle away from you.

You felt your vision start to sway from the alcohol. You loved the feeling of being drunk—just hated the hangovers. Right now though, you wanted to get wasted and go home with a stranger. The hangover will be tomorrow’s problem.

But seonghwa had to just run his mouth once again.

“You know you talk in your sleep, right?” He laughed, a full, humorous laugh. He tossed the bottle to the back of his throat and then continued to laugh at you. “Something about how awful the airplane food was and how drinking milk reminds you of cum.” he grimaced at the last part, but a playful smile still rested on his face. “God you are explicit.”

Your cheeks flushed, looking anywhere but his direction. “I do not sleeptalk.”

You looked to Wooyoung and San for help, but they looked dumbfounded. “I wouldn't know, y/n, I never slept with you,” San smirked, smiling deviously at you. “Unless you’re down with that, I’m all for hearing you sleeptalk in my ear all night.”

“Yeah, me too,” Woo played along, knowing he was just doing it to tease you. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was trying desperately to embarrass you in front of the hot bartender.

“God, it’s so annoying, I wanted to rip my hair out earlier,” he smiled devilishly, his teeth even brighter than normal under all the neon lights. “I thought I couldn't hate you more, but you proved me wrong.”

You looked straight ahead, ignoring Seonghwa’s goofy smile. “Whatever,” you huffed, resting your face on your hand, your elbow holding up the weight. You watched the sexy bartender notice your stare. He smiled and walked over to you.

“Need another sour?” he asked, his cheeks pinched with dimples. You had your eyes set on going home with him, and you were going to follow through with it. Seonghwa can stay outside for the night—or watch, it didn't matter to you. 

“Actually,” you pondered, blinking slowly as the alcohol hit your system even harder. “I’ll take a vodka and Sprite. Grey Goose.” you hummed, watching him nod with a smirk on his face.

Seonghwa chuckled, but you were too focused on your mission to hear him blab about how much he hated you over and over again. Soon enough, that damn grey goose hit you harder than anything. Your eyes fluttered after your second glass, your vision fuzzy, and your heartbeat racing. 

You let out a heavy sigh, unable to remember your original mission.

“Hey,” you coughed, your cheeks burning up from the toxin. You looked around the bar, only meeting Seonghwa’s eyes…..oh…they’re so pretty. “Where did everyone else go?”

He was facing you, looking at you through those sparkling irises of his. He took in a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, your brother left with that girl he was making out with earlier….San and Woo left not too long ago to go to another bar, and Mingi….” he paused, watching your expression change when mingi was mentioned. “Mingi went with them.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Why’d you stop at mingi like that?”

He furrowed his brows. “Why’d you look like that when I mentioned him?”

You sniffled, feeling a burning sensation in your throat from all the vodka. “What do you mean?” you were too messed up to defend yourself. You didn't even know your expression changed.

“You looked…different when I said his name.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his dreary tone. “Pfft. Hwa, do you think that just because I slept with him once that I have feelings for him?”

He frowned, his eyebrows knit with confusion. “You slept with him? Mingi?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. Just once, though.” Oh god, you officially couldn't think straight. Why were you even telling him this? “But that was it.”

He looked at you with an unknown expression, flattening his lips. “So you just sleep with anyone, huh?”

You scoffed. “Well, no, not usually.” you bit your lip, looking at him without knowing how you were looking at him. “I kind of always wanted you, but I didn’t understand why, so I ignore the feeling by sleeping with other guys.”

“That makes no sense, y/n,” he spat. “What are you saying?”

You rolled your eyes, drunkenly gripping his broad shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Awh, shut it, Hwa. Haven't you ever felt that before?” you paused, not realizing how close you were. His eyes were sharp, and his lips parted. “Wanting someone you can't have? Knowing that they wouldn't want anything to do with you?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze piercing into you sharply. “You’re drunk, y/n,” he paused, looking at you intently before shaking your hands away. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

“Oooh, don't tempt me, baby,” you poked his chest, giggling as he stood up off the barstool. You were completely oblivious to the fact that you just admitted to wanting him, but it didn't seem like he took it seriously. 

“Get up,” he huffed, gripping under your arms and lifting you off your chair. You groaned, wrapping your arms around his waist. You held onto him tightly as he reached into his back pocket to grab money, tossing it onto the counter with a glare at the bartender. 

“Enjoy your night,” Seonghwa growled, holding onto you, and made his way towards the hotel with you clung to him.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, a giggle under your breath.

He grunted, pulling you along with him. “What?”

You sniffed. “Can I kiss you?”

He sighed. “No.”

“Why?” you mumbled, shoving your face into his chest.

“Because it’s your drunk habit.”

“So would you kiss me if it wasn't?” you asked, completely obliterated. There was no way you were going to remember this in the morning. 

He didn't answer you.

“Come on, Hwa,” you moaned, stopping and gripping onto his collar in front of the hotel. You looked up into his eyes, feeling his intense gaze cut right through your intoxication. You needed him. Needed him bad. “Just once. God, just once.”

“I…” he swallowed, his hands twitching at his sides, crying out to touch you. He kept them away, even if he didn't want to. “Not now. Not while you’re drunk.”

You blinked slowly, watching his lips flatten into a frown. “Does that mean you want to?”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair aggressively. “Please just….let’s get back to the room and get you to bed.”

You groaned, but complied, following him into the hotel and into the elevator. The ride was silent, Seonghwa standing in the corner, farthest away from you, his breathing slowed. You stared at him, leaning up against the wall.

“I really hate you,” you mumbled, glaring at him. He was too sexy, his hair messy, his eyes dark, his long legs taller than a skyscraper. You only admitted your attraction to him when you were drunk, but you couldn't deny the pull you had to him.

He looked up at you, his starry eyes looking from your legs, up to your hips, over your breasts, and finally to your eyes. He took in a sharp breath, biting the corner of his lip.

“I hate you too,” he whispered, his vision low.

And in what world would the words I hate you cause someone’s heart to flutter?

The elevator dinged at your floor, and after a moment of longing stares, Seonghwa gripped your arm and dragged you out. He held onto your drunken body as he searched for his keycard, and once he found it, you tumbled into the room together. 

Your back was pressed against the wall, his arms caging you in on both sides. His forehead was on yours, and you were able to feel his hot breath against your lips.

“Oh,” you hummed, your hands subconsciously dancing at the hem of his t-shirt. You watched his throat bob anxiously as you looked into his eyes.

It took everything in him to move away. He coughed awkwardly and then nodded toward the bed. “Come on, you need to rest.”

“Mhm,” you murmured, unable to move in a straight line. You kicked off your sandals, and pulled off your shirt with ease, leaving you only in your bra and that skimpy skirt seonghwa was looking at all night.

He watched as you walked, holding his breath without meaning to. 

As you neared the bed, you reached back to unclip your bra, but you couldn't reach it. “Hwa?”

He was looking at the floor. “Hm?” 

“Can you…” you paused, giving up on trying to get it off. “Take this off of me? It’s really uncomfortable.”

He blinked, his eyes wide. You couldn't see the confusion in his expression, but you heard the shakiness of his tone. “W-what? Your….bra?”

“Yeah.”

He didn't say anything else. He slowly walked over to where you were, and as his fingertips traced the middle of your back, you shivered under his touch.

He unclasped the hook, but held on to both ends of the bra, afraid to let it drop. “It’s done,” he whispered, backing up slightly.

You dropped the bra onto the floor and then reached to take off your skirt. As you slid it down your hips, you heard seonghwa nearly trip over his feet trying to turn away.

“Do you…always sleep naked?” he asked you, looking anywhere but where you were. You were way too drunk to care about what he sees, but you were also too tired to try. You fell onto the bed, your arm covering your breasts and your underwear still on.

“Fuck, y/n,” Seonghwa huffed, finally looking over and doing everything to not look where he shouldn't. He gently reached for the blanket, tossing it over you in one swift motion.

You shut your eyes tight, feeling his presence loom over you. He brushed away the stray hairs on your face and made sure you were laying on your side. 

“.... I’m so screwed,” he muttered, giving you one last look before walking into the bathroom and turning on the cold water. 

A cold shower, especially knowing that there was a beautiful, nearly naked girl in the bed just outside the door. 

The cold water ran down his body, giving him a rush of pain. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, biting his lip as his attraction to you only worsened. 

—

After his attempt to cleanse his messy thoughts, Seonghwa stepped out of the bathroom, towel hanging low on his hips. He hesitated before looking over at you, and after he got a good look at your pretty face, he made his way to his luggage, rooting in there for a t-shirt to toss on.

“...seong…hwa,” you moaned. 

Moaned. 

“....y/n?” he whispered, maybe thinking you were awake and needed something. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but that sounded too….sensual than just a normal tone.

“I…ugh,” you groaned, “don't stop, please. H…Hwa.”

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, dropping the clothes he had in his hands, eyes wide.

“Seonghwa….”

Okay, that was the third time. You were most definitely dreaming about him….

“Oh…my…god.” Hwa gulped, cautiously standing up and backing away as far as he could from you.

Little did he know how detailed your dream was.

—

His hands snaked up your bare hips, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips were on your ear, biting, teeth clashing against your skin. 

He thrusted into you, hard, his hips buckling as he moaned. You cried out his name, back arching, nails scratching. He fucked you hard, his forehead against yours, and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“You like that?” he whispered, his tongue sliding into your mouth before you could answer. His sweat fell on your cheek, and you moaned out his name once more. You weren't sure how you got here, how this came about, or anything. All that mattered was that you were finally with him, the man you always thought you hated.

“…hwa,” you moaned, “fuck me harder.”

And as he slammed into you with even more force than before, his lips crashed onto yours, his black hair blocking your vision. You wanted more, and more and more—

“Y/n,” 

“Just shut up and keep going,” you cried out.

“Y/N!”

You shot awake, gasping for air as your back hit the headboard. You breathed heavily, realizing that you were dreaming about all of that and that the real seonghwa was standing in front of you, shirtless, with an expression you weren't quite sure you’d ever seen before.

“Seonghwa, what—”

“S..stop it. Don't say my name,” he stuttered, looking anywhere but your body. He quickly tossed a t-shirt at you—his t-shirt. “Just put this on. The guys are down getting breakfast, so we gotta go.”

He quickly walked to his own luggage and grabbed a shirt for himself. You watched him as he tossed it on and slid on his shoes, and with one last awkward glance at you, he left the room in haste.

You were too scared to look down, hoping that you still had underwear on. You weren't too sure if that was a dream or not, but given the way he acted, it made you even more confused.

You felt the wetness between your thighs, clenching them with a sigh. You stood up, tossing on the bra that was laying on the floor as if it was thrown off of you.

After cleaning yourself up a bit, you made your way to the breakfast area on the first floor, immediately noticed by Hongjoong. “There you are! I was worried you weren't going to—” he stopped, noticing the shirt that was way too big on you. “That’s the shirt I got Hwa….”

Seonghwa cleared his throat, shoving a bagel into his mouth to distract himself.

You ignored him and sat down across from him and next to Mingi. You looked up, meeting eyes with the man you thought so filthily about, seeing a swipe of cream cheese on the bottom of his lip. You held back, knowing that it’ll just send you into another spiral if you pointed it out.

But when he stuck his tongue out to lick it off, you felt the tingle in your stomach once more, thinking back at the dream you had, and how his tongue caressed you in more ways than one.

He met eyes with you, his lips parting slightly. His gaze was much different than it ever has been. You've never seen him so….lost. His expression was conflicted, his eyes not leaving your lips.

Wooyoung smirked. “Did you guys fuck or something? What’s with the mood?”

“Wooyoung!” Hongjoong yelled.

“What? I’m just pointing out the obvious,” he shrugged.

“We didn't. Keep dreaming,” Seonghwa muttered lowly, taking another bite of his bagel.

Hongjoong huffed. “I don't want to imagine my sister and seonghwa in that way…that’s super weird.”

“Why?” seonghwa questioned, his tone serious. You looked at him, confused as to why he cared. It seemed like everyone else was just as confused as you. “Ahem, I mean…uh, is it that hard to imagine?” Seonghwa’s voice was shaky, his gaze hopping from Hongjoong to you.

It made your brother laugh. “Well, yeah. You guys hate each other, right?” he took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “It makes no sense for you to even see eye to eye, I couldn't imagine you two in any type of relationship. Maybe her and Mingi, out of everyone.”

Seonghwa dropped his bagel face down onto his plate. “Why Mingi? What’s so special about—”

“I’m right here guys….” Mingi tried to interrupt, but Seonghwa shot him a dangerous glare, causing the gentle giant to hold his tongue.

Hongjoong looked around at the boys awkwardly and picked up his fork to continue eating his eggs. “I’m just saying.”

This was too awkward. You kept stealing glances at Hwa as if he were a magnet. You assumed he felt similarly, because every time you looked, your eyes would meet, and then you would awkwardly stare for a moment too long before looking away.

And when he got up to get more food, you got up, too.

“We need to talk,” you whispered, coming right up next to him as he put a muffin on his plate. “Why are you acting weird?”

He sighed and continued to add food to his plate. “I’m not acting weird.”

As he moved to get a drink from the drink machine, you continued to follow him. “Did I do something wrong yesterday?” you gasped, holding a hand over your mouth as he still ignored you. “Did I kiss you? Dear god, I hope not—”

“No, you didn't,” he said quietly, walking back over to the table.

“Something must have happened, seonghwa—”

He stopped, nearly causing you to bump into his back. “Don't.” he paused, taking in a sharp breath, looking over his shoulder at you. “Don't say my name.”

You frowned in confusion, watching the muscles in his back move as he walked away. You couldn't remember your antics yesterday, but maybe you made him uncomfortable by sleeping nearly naked—he hated you, so you could only imagine how irritated he was.

“Listen, if it was because I was naked, I'm sorry—” 

Everyone at the table looked up as you spoke, including seonghwa. He looked shy, a blush on his cheeks, and he sat down quickly and stuffed the muffin in his mouth.

“Naked?” Mingi laughed, looking from you to seonghwa suggestively. “Sounds awfully smutty, Seonghwa.”

“We didn't—” he groaned, running a hand down his face. “Nothing happened with us.”

“Mhm, okay,” San smirked. “Whatever you say. Anyway, we have a whole day out planned, so you two better get back to your normal selves or we won't have any fun.”

You really needed to talk to seonghwa, but it seemed like you'll be busy the whole day with the boys—and he didn't seem to be very interested in talking to you, anyway.

You tilted your head in curiosity. 

“What are we doing?”

—

The day was eventful.

First, you went to the beach. Seemed innocent, until Seonghwa took off his shirt and got all soaking wet, sending you in a mess of thoughts and a mess below. He would look over at you, and wouldn't look away, paying intense attention to your body in a skimpy little bikini. 

When you went to talk to him, he body-slammed you into the ocean, and normally you would've fumed, but this time, you enjoyed his hands on your bare skin. 

After the beach, you walked along the boardwalk of shops and lots of food. You grabbed a popsicle, licking it without a thought, but when you felt an intense pressure on you, you looked over to see seonghwa looking at you with an expression you've never seen on him. His eyes were focused on your lips, his own lips curled up as he bit them. You continued to eat your popsicle, but couldn't stop looking at him.

When you tried to bring up last night, Hongjoong came over and took the rest of your pop, running away from you like a child.

At dinner, you sat at the far end of the table, as far away as possible from Seonghwa. It wasn't intended, but now there was no way you could talk, as everyone would hear your conversation.

You ate, feeling defeated. Maybe you should just forget about it.

It was still daylight after dinner. As the guys conversed about what to do next, San and Wooyoung decided to go their own way and walk the beach, which was just their code word for “shopping” for girls. Hongjoong agreed with them, shocking you since he was always hell-bent on not going off a schedule. You assumed he was just going to meet that girl he was with yesterday, but whatever, it just meant that you could be left alone with Seonghwa.

After those three left, it was only you, Seonghwa, and Mingi. Hwa stood with his hands in his pockets, awkwardly looking around as you stood outside the restaurant. Mingi was even more awkward, looking at you before speaking.

“Um, I’m just gonna go with Woo and San, so,” he breathed, looking to seonghwa now. “I’ll see you guys back at the hotel tonight.”

“Okay, Mingi,” you smiled. “See you later.”

You watched him leave and then looked at the boy standing next to you.

“So,” you tried to initiate conversation, but seonghwa started walking in the opposite direction from where everyone else went. You followed. “What should we do?”

“I’m going surfing,” he said blandly. “I don't know about you, though.”

“I’ll come with you,” you smiled, finally catching up to him. He let out an aggravated groan as you walked close to him. “Do you even know how to surf?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, of course, I do.” 

“I’m just saying,” you noted, shrugging as you followed him. “You’re too….dainty. I feel like if you fell off you’d break every bone in your body.”

Seonghwa didn't react in any way you were hoping he would. Instead, he kept walking silently, until you reached the part of the beach where the surf shack was. Wetsuits were laid out, ready to be picked up, and surfboards stood tall through the sand and against the building. You stared in awe as you approached, seeing that there was no one else here but you two.

Finally, alone at last. 

“Grab a suit if you’re gonna do this,” he pointed to them, raising an eyebrow when you stood there anxiously. “What? Don't you know how to surf?” he mocked.

You kicked at the sand, your hands behind your back. “Pff. yeah, of course, I….no. I don't.” you pleaded with your eyes sweetly, despite all of the dirty things you wanted to do to him. “Could you please teach me? Pretty please?”

He held his own suit close to his chest as he looked down at you. “Why should I?”

You stepped closer to him, causing him to step back cautiously. “Because I’m pretty?”

“Oh honey, who lied to you?” he joked.

“Please, Seonghwa?” you stressed his name, hoping to break him. You watched his eye twitch as you said it, reminding you of earlier when he told you not to say his name.

“Seonghwa seonghwa seonghwa seong—”

“Okay, fine! Jeez,” he huffed, tossing you a suit, only for it to hit you in the face. “Get dressed.”

You walked into the shack with him, going your separate ways at the locker rooms. Everything went smoothly until you tried to zipper the suit up, only being able to get it halfway. You pondered on asking seonghwa for help or completely turning into a contortionist, but after failing to do it yourself, you gave up and left the room to ask him.

Seonghwa stood amongst the surfboards, his lean body looking delicious in that surf suit. You nearly drooled looking at him.

“Hey,” you started, slowly approaching him as he picked out a board. “Can you help me zipper this?”

He turned to you, his expression conflicted as he saw you. You turned around, showing your exposed back, causing him to clear his throat. “O..okay.”

His delicate fingers brushed against the skin of your back, nearly causing you to shiver. You felt his breath hit the back of your neck as the zipper moved up and up until he zipped it completely.

“....There,” he said, swallowing. “You’re all good.”

He didn't move his hands until you pulled away from him, turning back around to face him. The silence was deafening, so you decided to break it.

“Seonghwa, about last night, what exactly happened—”

“Let’s just get started before the sun goes down,” he interrupted, looking anywhere but your eyes. “We’ll talk later.”

That was good enough for now. You watched him try to pick out a board, but he seemed extremely nervous. After a good bit of time, he grabbed a pink one, causing you to smile. Pink suited him so much, more than he’d probably like to admit.

“Let’s start with some basics,” he spoke smoothly, tossing the board down onto the sand. “Get on it. On your stomach.”

You lay down on the board, looking up at him for more directions. He taught you how to paddle with your arms, explaining that you'll have to dive under the waves sometimes if you were okay with doing that. You couldn't look weak now, especially not to him. So after the little training lesson, you were finally in the shallow water, sand already in every nook and cranny of you.

“Try to keep balance,” he said, his voice raspy. It wasn't the time to turn you on, but of course, he could do it just by his voice. “Keep your chest up.” his hand caressed your back, down your spine.

You looked up at him, his wet hair dripping down his face. You held back, as much as you could, from pouncing on him.

But when you fell off the board and got stuck underwater, you’ve never seen him so concerned before.

He grabbed you under your arms, pulling you back up and holding him to you while you coughed. You were perfectly fine—maybe a little too much water in the ears, but it was the least of your worries. What you cared about was the look on his face and the way he caged you to his body.

“y/n?” he rushed his hand over your face, pushing away your drenched hair so he could see you. “Are you okay?”

You coughed, blinking away the salt that infiltrated your eyes. Seonghwa noticed your distress and gently rubbed your face with the pad of his thumb. 

“Don't rub your eyes,” he pushed your hand away, still not letting you go from his embrace. “You'll make it worse.”

“It hurts,” you mumbled, causing his look of worry to worsen. True, the salt started burning your eyes, but you couldn't get enough of his caring touch—maybe because he’s never shown this side of himself to you.

He took in an anxious breath as he looked around. “Maybe we should get back to the hotel,” he spoke softly, the sound of water filling your senses as you looked at him. 

Everything about his appearance aggravated you—from the way his midnight hair draped his face, dripping with water down his cheeks, to the way his normally judgemental eyes seemed gentle and sweet. He looked kind, the type of man who would worship his lover like a queen, and all the time knowing him, you tried your hardest to only see him in a negative light.

Now, as he held you in the cold, sparkling ocean as the sun was setting, all you saw was your reflection in his eyes and all you felt was the undeniable pull to be with him. To touch him. To kiss him. To tell him that maybe, just maybe, you’ve always had a piece of him in your heart.

“Seonghwa, I…” you paused, ignoring the burn from the salt water. You watched his lips as they slowly parted, his eyes wide as he picked you apart. They looked at you differently, like they never looked at you before, and you wanted him to never stop looking at you. 

The distance between the two of you was nonexistent—you saw every drop of water on his skin, and you were certain he was able to gather the meaning behind your gaze. If he did, he didn't say anything—he only looked back at you with those entrancing irises of his, a look you’ve never seen from him. He waited patiently for you to finish your sentence, but you had nothing else to say.

As your lips neared his, you heard his breath get caught in his throat, and you felt his embrace tighten around you. You closed your eyes, taking in the feeling, hoping that he would be the one to lean in and meet your lips.

He didn't. 

Instead, his hands trailed down your back, the pink surfboard still floating next to you despite being forgotten. His breath was shaky as he touched you, but the moment ended too quickly as he shook himself out of his trance.

“I um, we should, you know,” he nodded towards the beach, even though you weren't too far out. “We should get back to the room.”

You slowly blinked at him, watching his expression stay the same despite the change of mind. He coughed, letting go of you, but then he grabbed your hand and the board before pulling you to shore.

The walk back was quiet. He didn't let go of your hand until you got back to the surf shack, and he reluctantly let go knowing you had to change.

You both were silent as you looked at each other, but the ache in your chest convinced you to break this tension.

Before you entered the changing room, you quickly turned back around to face seonghwa, who still stood with that….sex-charged expression on his face.

“….Stop looking at me like that,” you hummed, your chest heavy as he breathed in deeply. He looked at you with those bedroom eyes of his, half of his wetsuit already off. He looked deadly, which didn't help your desire.

He swallowed hard but tried his best to remain calm. “Like what?”

You took a step closer, reaching back to your zipper to pull it down just a little. You shrugged it down your bare shoulders, making sure he got to know that there was nothing else but you under that wetsuit once again.

And when you got as close as you could, you said the words you knew would be life or death for him. 

“Like you want to fuck me,” you shrugged, acting all cool even though you were falling apart by the second. You were lucky you were at the surf shack at such a late time of day, and that no one else was here except you. 

He choked on air, stepping away from you until his back hit the wall. You noticed how his chest rose and fell as he breathed in, and how delicious it would be to just lick him all over….

“I…” he gulped, but his eyes lingered on your shoulders and the curve of your breasts. “I don't know what you mean?”

You smiled through your haze, mind focused on getting to the bottom of his sudden change of attitude towards you. You reached out, gently guiding your hand down the plain of his chest, down his slim, but muscular waist. Oh, you couldn't get enough of him already.

You smirked. “Then tell me why you’ve been eye fucking me all day, or at least what happened last night, so I can understand.”

He blinked fast, looking from your lips, down your neck, to your bare shoulders. 

“You…” he took in a sharp breath as your hands trailed down his body. “You sleeptalk.”

“I know that already,” you whispered, looking into his captivating gaze. 

He leaned forward slightly, veins popping in his neck as he strained against his judgment. “I mean, you…kept moaning my name. I…I couldn't take it anymore….I can't take it anymore. Every time you speak I just want to fucking shut you up with my mouth for fucks sake.” he huffed, subconsciously gripping your hips as he grits his teeth. “You so annoying, so damn annoying, I can't—”

“Then take me,” you spoke against his lips. “Fuck me. Just like you did in my dreams.”

His forehead pressed against yours as you pushed him further against the wall.

“And how did I do that?” he growled, his fingertips tugging at your wetsuit. “Was I rough? Gentle?” he paused, lips pressed to your neck. “Did I make you say my name, or was that all you with that filthy little mouth of yours?”

You couldn't speak as his lips glided down your neck to your collarbone. He sucked on the skin there, roughly, causing you to suck in a sharp breath and run your hands through his dripping-wet hair.

You moaned, biting his earlobe. “I want you to tear me apart.”

He smirked against your skin, his eyes finally meeting yours. 

“Rough it is, then.”

Without warning, he bit his lip hard as he pulled your wetsuit right down to your ankles, the water from his hair dripping onto your bare shoulders. He nearly growled as you stood in front of him, naked as ever, his gaze darkening before gripping the back of your neck to pull you to him.

As he sucked on your neck, you pulled down his suit with aggression, not quick enough for the hunger in both of your souls. His hot breath tickled your skin, his hands clawed at your hips, and his lips begged to kiss yours as you shoved him against the wall once again, skin on skin. He breathed heavily, his eyes dancing from your breasts to your waist, to your lips.

You gripped onto his hair, staring into his eyes for a moment before you locked your lips with his, tasting the saltiness of the ocean and the sweet warmth of his saliva. Your tongues fought for their lives, dancing as you deepened the kiss. Foreheads slamming, hands invading space. It was all over for your sanity the minute his long fingers glided against your core, his middle finger finding your clit and rubbing gently. His kisses were rough as his fingers delicately touched you, fueling the fire within you even more than it already was.

“Seonghwa,” you moaned against his ear, causing him to move his hand faster with a grunt. “Push them in me.”

He hissed, his eyes rolling back into his head as he pulled his hands away for a moment, only to suck his fingers in front of you before shoving them into you, curling them up inside you. You arched your back against him, crying out as his lips found yours once again.

He kissed you deeply as he made love to you with his hands, his fingers long enough to reach deep inside of you—but it wasn't enough. You bit his lip sharply as he fingered you, causing him to hiss in pleasure. “I need your cock in me. Now.” you licked his jawline, watching him squirm in your embrace. 

His cheeks were flushed red as he looked at you, his eyes looking as if he were intoxicated. “I…fuck,” he sucked in a breath, kissing you as his fingers moved faster and faster. “Okay.” 

As he pulled his fingers out of you, he licked them once more, his eyes on yours seductively. 

“You taste so good.” he moaned, his mouth parted. He then lifted you up, walking you over to the table of waxed surfboards in the middle of the room. Shoving everything off with one hand, he threw you onto the wood, causing you to let out a little grunt.

“You’re so sexy,” he leaned over you, slamming your hands above your head before silencing your moans with a rough kiss. “So fucking sexy, you have no idea how long I wanted to shove my dick inside you.” His words were like gasoline to your fire, causing you to cry out in a whimper for him to do exactly what he said he would do. You kept your mouth shut as he tugged you to the edge of the table, lining up his hard-on to enter you.

After a look of longing, he spit onto his fingers and rubbed them onto his cock and your heat, his chest falling and rising with his heavy breathing. He then buried himself inside you, deeply, causing your breath to hitch. He was even bigger than your dreams, tearing apart your expectations of his skills. You tried your best to free your arms from his hold, but as he moved in and out of you, you had lost the desire to escape it. You really liked the feeling of his fingernails tearing into your skin.

“Ah,” he whimpered, his hips rocking quickly, his eyes shut tight. His thrusts were deep, not slowing down for a second.

Your legs curled around his shoulders, his one arm holding your hands and his other piercing into your ankle. He grunted as he pumped into you, tearing at your insides, feeling him fill you up. “Hwa,” you groaned, back arching in pleasure. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He grunted in response, speeding up faster as his hips slammed into yours. You felt him quiver inside you, precum dripping into you without a care. You loved the feeling, you didn't care about the risks in the moment. 

You climaxed without warning, your legs tightening around his head. He kept muttering your name over and over again against you, kissing the skin of your ankles as he continued to fuck the living shit out of you. You started to see stars as he nearly cracked your spine, and right before he nearly came, he flipped you over onto your stomach without ever leaving you.

Your face was shoved against the wood of the table, the sweet smell of sex enveloping your senses. You cried out his name as he gripped onto your hips, moving faster as his own orgasm came close. His lips met the small of your back, his fingers gripped your ass with haste. 

“I’m going to come,” he mumbled, his voice raspy. “Can I come in you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Come inside me.”

As if your words stirred something within him, he immediately moved in shorter movements, his grip on your ass tightening as his orgasm came. His breathing shallowed as he came into you, filling you up with his cum. You let out one last moan as you felt his warmth, and he kissed the back of your neck as he finished.

He pulled out of you slowly despite how rough he was—he could've been rougher, but you didn't want him to think of you as the insane slut everyone thought you were.

Even though you only ever slept with others because you couldn't have him.

And now…..what comes next?

He helped you sit back up to a normal position, and when he saw the dark, purple bruises on your neck and collarbone, he gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry,” his fingers gently brushed against your hot skin as if he didn't just totally destroy you. “I kind of….went crazy, didn't I?”

You smiled up at him in a daze, both your cheeks blushed in embarrassment and enjoyment. “I like crazy.”

He paused, standing proudly in front of you with that delicious body of his. You sighed in contentment, a lazy smile on your lips. “I dreamt of this. Literally.” you reached out to him, pulling his lips down to yours. He kissed them softly, opening his mouth wide as he made out with you. You didn't want to pull away, but as the thought of you both having sex in a public surf shack came to your mind, you pulled away quickly, startling him.

“Um, so,” you laughed awkwardly. “Should we head back now? We are kind of in a public place….”

Seonghwa looked around, smirking as he leaned forward on the table, kissing you once more. “It was kind of thrilling, not gonna lie.”

You leaned into his embrace, his hands caressing your back romantically. “So,” you whispered against his lips. “We should get back. And this time, you better sleep in the bed with me.”

“Oh, baby, I plan on doing more than just sleeping.”

—

After countless rounds of ‘sleeping’, you ended up waking up late in Seonghwa’s embrace, his lips pressed against the curve of your shoulder as he held you. He quite literally rocked you all night long, and you even discovered his love for reverse cowgirl—making him come within two minutes of the fifth round.

Now, as you lay in his arms while he slept, you finally felt content. He was all you ever wanted, even though your words said otherwise this whole time of knowing him.

“Hey,” you turned around in his embrace, pressing your lips against his forehead. “Seonghwa.”

“Hm?” he grumbled sleepily, his eyes blinking open to meet yours. 

You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. “We should get up. The others are probably waiting for us in the lobby.”

“Ugh, why?” he groaned, holding onto you tighter. “ I don't want to leave this bed today. Or ever.”

You giggled, pecking his lips. “Come on, Hwa. I really would like to get a tan on the sand today.”

His eyes were wide open now, but he blinked slowly from his sleepiness. “We barely got any sleep,” he huffed, shoving his head into your shoulder. “And I can't kiss you in front of everyone, I can't wait the whole day to touch you.”

You grinned chaotically.

“Who says we have to hide it?”

—

“Dear lord,” Wooyoung huffed, sitting with his arms crossed at the beach. “Are they ever going to stop and come up for air?”

Your friends sat on towels on the sand, while you sat on Seonghwa’s lap as you made out with him. His hands gripped your face as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, both of you having no care for those around you. 

“I knew this was going to happen,” San mumbled with a smirk, elbowing Wooyoung playfully. “Just let them have their fun. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Pfft,” Woo scoffed, looking at how seonghwa touched you.

 “I always thought I would be the one tapping that.”

“Wooyoung shut the fuck up.”

[malum-forev]

Second Trimester

Authors Note: Thank you guys soo much for the love you gave this story! Here's part 2!

Part 1: First Trimester

She knew something was up when Bucky insisted on picking her up and driving her to the compound. He rubbed two gloved hands together nervously as she locked up her apartment door. 

“You look even more anxious than when we made bean.” She chuckled. 

Bucky let out a staggered breath running a hand through his newly short hair. “I’m sorry, m’not trying to make you nervous it’s just- well, I don’t have any family left, biological family that is. And those dorks are kind of my chosen family. Think of this like meeting your in laws- except they’re not your in laws because we’re not dating, they’re Avengers and they kind of think you got pregnant on purpose.”

(Y/n) gulped, suddenly feeling like a knot of spikes parked in the middle of her esophagus. “So much for not trying to make me nervous.”

“Sorry… again.” Bucky shut his eyes for a second. “I’m not great at the talking part- I don’t usually talk this much. I don’t know what’s come over me.”

Once he opened his eyes back up, Bucky was greeted with a smile that melted the tension. He didn’t know how she did it, one soft look from her and all his problems were suddenly gone. 

“I like your word vomit.” (Y/n) smiled and without thinking twice, she laced the fingers on her right hand with the ones on his left hand. “You don’t have to be nervous alone, you know. We’re in this together for the next eight months and at least my lifetime. I don’t know how long you’re planning on living, how about we round it up to the next seventy years.”

Bucky’s throat went dry and he tried to keep up with her pace walking. He looked down at their linked hands with widened eyes. It had been years since someone had touched his left hand, let alone do it on purpose and without flinching. 

Bucky learned the hard way that some women only wanted to be with him so he could use the vibranium on them, see what it was capable of doing. It all felt so wrong to him, using the arm that was given to him to kill for something other than that. He’d been ashamed of it for so long that he lived life around it. Covering it with a jacket and gloves even in the scorching New York summer. Using his right hand to open doors and help old ladies cross the street, wanting to bring the least amount of attention to his left limb. But in this moment, he didn’t feel discomfort or humiliation; quite the opposite, he felt a calming blooming sensation coming from their joined hands. Like the sun had risen after a long winter and it was casting its warming yellow glow on him. 

He straightened his spine and squeezed her hand, being careful to not put too much pressure but making it clear he welcomed the gesture.

An hour later, it was her who needed Bucky’s hand to hold. She was sitting at the end of a long conference table with people she never thought she’d meet staring her down. 

Captain America, who’d insisted she call him Steve, sat closest to her with his elbows resting on the table. (Y/n) could see the battle going on in his head by the different wrinkles that showed up on his expressive face. Going from excitement to worry in seconds. Next to him was Natasha, the redhead was surprisingly the most inviting of them all, giving (Y/n) a genuine smile. All the way in the back of the room stood the Falcon, Sam hadn’t said a single word and kept his eyes laser focused on her. Like he was waiting for something to give up the fact that (Y/n) was using Bucky. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leaned on the wall and narrowed his eyes. 

Finally, Bucky came back into the room with a glass of water which he placed in front of her. 

“Guys, I really wanted you to meet-“

Bucky’s quiet voice was replaced by Sam’s booming tone. “Have you even thought about how this is going to work out?!”

Groans came from both Steve and Nat.

“You promised to behave.” Steve shot daggers at Sam but he just rolled his eyes. 

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Natasha said. “Before her, we thought it was impossible for people with the super serum to have kids. Think of how this will change the world. They can’t just pass it up.”

“The world,” Sam laughed dryly. “Think about how this is going to change Buck! We can do this, this job, because we have no family except each other. He’ll start pulling his punches and then what? He’ll leave a mission because the kid got sick?”

“That’s enough Sam.” Steve said. “What about Clint? He’s got a family and he got the job done.”

“Have you two even talked about what this relationship is?” Sam waved his hand between Bucky and (Y/n). “Are you two exclusive?”

“Yes.” Said Bucky but at the same time, (Y/n) said: “No.”

Bucky’s neck snapped towards her. “You’re dating? With my kid in there?”

(Y/n)’s brows shot up. “You made it very clear we aren’t dating so yes, I’ve been on a couple of dates.”

“I don’t know how I feel about you dragging my kid on dates with random men.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and she mimicked his action.

“This baby is as much my kid as it is yours. And until I pop it out, bean’s going to be following me everywhere I go. That means, if I want to go to the movies or dinner and someone asks me out, I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”

Sam’s arms shot up. “See, this is what I’m talking about. They have no idea what they’re doing!”

Natasha rubbed her temples. “How about this, the next time (Y/n) wants to go out on a date, Bucky takes her out. You’re going to start showing any second now and it’s gonna start getting harder and harder to get commitment-phobe guys to go on a date with the lady growing another human.”

(Y/n) nodded her head. “Sounds great to me.”

“Deal. I’ll take you out once a week.” Bucky uncrossed his arms.

“Twice.” (Y/n) shrugged. “I’m cute, a lot of guys wanting to take me out.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared at the thought of other men waiting behind her front door. “Twice, but I get to choose the place at least once.”

“You get to choose the place but I get flowers, once a week.” (Y/n) rested both elbows on the table and stared at Bucky. 

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Fine, you’ll get the flowers but I’ll get three vetoes for any of the places you choose.”

(Y/n) brought her right hand closer to him, wanting to shake on the deal before he could back out. “Deal.”

“Deal.” Bucky said with a devious smile. “You need to work on your negotiation skills, dollface. I was already planning on getting you flowers for every date.” 

“I would have done the deal for one date a week.” (Y/n) smiled.

---

Bucky knocked three times on her door, exhausted from the night before. He’d been to Romania on a mission and gotten in at around 3 am, gotten up at 8 am and trained the day through. He leaned his head on the door and waited for (Y/n) to open the door. 

It had been three weeks since they’d reached the date agreement and he’d only had to cancel once. Bucky was quite proud of that, for someone who’s life had been upside down he was keeping his promise and developing some sort of routine. 

Today was his choice of date and in true Bucky fashion, he wanted to stay in. He’d picked up Chinese takeout and wanted to watch another of the thousands of classic movies he’d missed over the decades. 

Bucky heard her soft footsteps leading to the door and the lock turning.

“They didn’t have the pork dumplings so I got you shrimp. And since shrimp don’t have a high mercury level, we’re okay to eat it- you know, since doc sai-“

Bucky’s rambling was cut short the second his eyes locked on her body. His ocean blue eyes widened and his jaw went slack. (Y/n) was wearing a white tank top that clung to her body, it had been only a couple of days since they’d seen each other but Bucky felt like it had been a lifetime. His eyes locked on her chest for a couple of seconds, he couldn’t miss the sight of her bigger breasts, but what really caught his eye was the small bump that sticked out. 

“Y-you’re pregnant.” Bucky stuttered.

(Y/n) let out a loud laugh as she lead him into her apartment. “I thought you got the memo.” Taking the brown paper bag from his hands.

Bucky shook his head, trying to rearrange his thoughts but all that bubbled around in his brain was the image of her with her hands rubbing the small bump.

“I-I mean. You look pregnant.” Bucky’s eyes shone like the night’s sky, his hands itched to get closer to her, closer to the baby.

(Y/n) took her place on the couch, stretching out her hand to him. Bucky walked slowly, afraid of- he didn’t know what he was afraid of but there was a deep feeling settling in his stomach. When Bucky got closer, he absentmindedly brought forward his left hand before ripping it back and stretching out his right one. 

“It’s okay.” (Y/n) whispered, a sweet smile playing on her lips. “Bean loves every part of you.”

Bucky shook his head quickly, extending his right hand closer to her. 

(Y/n) sat up, taking both of Bucky’s hands in hers and lightly pulling him down until he was kneeling in between her legs. With a soft touch, she brought his hands to her protruding belly, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand. 

“Bean will never be afraid of you.” (Y/n) whispered, bringing one of her hands to the back of his neck, soothing Bucky with her touch.

His eyes filled with burning tears, begging to be let out. Years of being feared, years of being used, it all didn’t matter because it brought him to this exact moment. 

No words were spoken because he couldn’t think of words that expressed his feelings. Gratitude, happiness, peace. Instead of saying anything, he unlocked a piece of himself to her. That was the only thing he could do. So, for the next hour they sat in silence, tears falling freely from his eyes as he rubbed her belly softly. Bucky hummed tunes from the 40’s until (Y/n) fell asleep, her back pressed to his chest.

- -

It had been a long day at the compound’s med bay. (Y/n) had been poked and prodded for the better part of two hours and Bucky had been by her side the entire time. He knew better than anyone that being in that situation alone was horrible, a feeling he wouldn’t want anyone to experience let alone the woman carrying his child. 

“Are we almost done here?” Bucky said, his words rough and clipped. The doctors around the two of them scattered and nodded, afraid of him. But, (Y/n)? She just laughed.

“They’re just doing their job Buck.” She smiled. “Bean is an incredible scientific accomplishment that they just want to understand. Plus, I would much rather get my blood drawn and have a couple of ultrasounds than what I get done at the OBGYN.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed at the thought of her being even slightly uncomfortable.

“I’ve lost count of the people who’ve shoved their hands up to my cervix.” She laughed, getting up from the chair. 

Bucky rubbed tiny circles next to her belly button, loving the way her skin felt in his hands, as they walked out of the med bay.

“Isn’t that Sam?” (Y/n) asked, looking left at the man who’d barely talked to them since they’d decided to have the baby. 

“Yeah but I don’t think we should call him ove-“

(Y/n) interrupted him by yelling out Sam’s name and calling him over. 

Bucky saw the annoyed state his friend was in the second he walked towards them. 

“Hey.” Sam gave them a tight smile. 

“I know you don’t trust me,” (Y/n) said. “but just do this time.”

Sam’s eyes furrowed with confusion and it just deepened the second (Y/n) took his hand and brought it to her stomach. What was first hesitation, turned into surprise.

“Is- is that?” Sam asked feeling movement inside her belly. 

“That’s bean.” Bucky’s smile took over his face. 

“It’s moving.” Sam whispered, taking his other hand and bringing it to her stomach too. 

“I know you’re not totally on board with this,” Bucky said. “but you need to trust us. This is the right decision.”

Sam’s wide eyes bounced between the two of them. “I can’t concentrate on anything else but this baby trying to kick its way out of (Y/n)’s stomach. Bean’s going to have my fighting style.”

Both Bucky and (Y/n) smiled at each other, happy that Sam had finally called their baby Bean. 

Third Trimester

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour @hallecarey1 @aorifukuzawa @sammyssm @alana4610. @mrsjobarnes

[bigtedbear]

" 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 "

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐥𝐮𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

content warnings: gay relationship, descriptions of grevious bodily injury, implied self-mutilation/self-harm, male reader, monster x human relationship, hurt/comfort writing, hey this starts out really dark please take care of your mental health, arguments, misunderstood feelings, mermaid courtship, alternate universe where luocha is a traveling doctor who's studying biology and anatomy across the universe blah blah blah, luocha is pretty genuine in this even though i know he is in fact a snake let me idealize for a moment okay, luocha puts a ring on it without realizing he is literally putting a ring on it

full admittance you'll probably find parallels with @/havanilla's merventurine au at the start of this cause it was one of the last things I read on my old tumblr account before it died on me and i fear i DO have brainrot

to add to my earlier warning about this chapter beginning out dark, there will be a marker for the cuter, mermaid courtship section of the fic!! look for a marker like the one below VV

" welcome back caller 🪷! connecting your line as we speak! "

" new contact noted! caller luocha has been added to your phonebook - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

A pained scream ripped through the air.  

It was a shame it couldn’t be distinguished from the sound of other yells and shouting from all over the deck.  In fact, it seemed the anguish was completely drowned out by the noise of an older man beginning to bark orders from the side of the fishing boat.  Gravelly with age and experience, sets and more sets of hands seemed to jump to action, rushing over to that specific side of the deck.  

In the crew’s haste, they didn’t seem to notice they had also woken up the residential cabin.  Things were more than hectic; the experienced crew themselves were in a frenzy.  There was something that demanded urgent attention and it seemed none of the regular passengers were privy to what exactly it was. 

Still, in the curious sea of civilian passengers renting their rooms in the bowels of the ship, a tall blonde head of hair peered over the crowd straight to the source of the fuss.  Over the sea of yellow rain jackets adorning the working fishermen, he caught sight of some kind of reflective surface… what many wrote off as an oversized fish, Luocha continued to strain his eyes at.

Should he have been anyone else, perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed.  But Luocha was a doctor, he was more than familiar with noises of distress; with the scent of blood.  Something in the very core of his body shook with each of the pained and weak motions of an equally pained, weak patient.  The vibrations crept up his spine from the wooden boards of the ship, whispering into his ears. 

Something was wrong. 

Something was terribly wrong. 

Despite the protests of one of the tour guides, urging him to go back to sleep, he rushed towards the scene.  The same pained screams; the sounds of the body on the deck; the reflection of the “oversized fish”, they became clearer and clearer the closer he closed in.

Before he could make it into the crowd of men at work, he was caught by one of their coworkers.  Clad in a yellow raincoat, shadow cast across his face in the rain, the obviously displeased grimace all over his face only further sent Luocha into a state of panic.  A tense grip on his elbow, the man spoke in a language he didn’t understand.  Even if he didn’t understand the words themselves, Luocha was more than smart enough to understand the message the worker was trying to convey.  Before he could be pulled away, he made one last attempt to see what exactly was going on. 

When he did manage to catch a glimpse, he froze. 

Perfect, round tears running down flushed, red cheeks. 

The skin was pulled taut in another scream.  Based on the shaking motion of the face, he could only really come to the conclusion the body was being jerked in every direction possible. 

“Stop… STOP!”  He yanked his elbow out of the man’s grasp, crashing directly into the back of another worker.  In his haste, he shoved the man out of the way only to find his path blocked by even more yellow raincoats.  “You’re only going to worsen the injuries! I’m a doctor!” 

Despite not considering himself to be very physically fit, something about the situation discarded that reality entirely.  An unknown strength washed over him as he forced his way through the clusterfuck of workers trying to wrestle the screamer into place. 

He didn’t understand, Luocha didn’t understand. 

There was an injured crew member on the deck, screaming–what kind of idiot would continue to pull and stress the skin around the wound? Was that why the team leader seemed to screaming with such vigor?  Was he equally concerned about one of his staff suddenly being sent into debilitating agony? 

But no, not even in the slightest.  

Through the crowd, a wet mop of hair thrashing against the backdrop of a barbed fishing net came into view.  The urgency only further sent Luocha wrestling through the crowd of men, all but screaming himself as he watched the injured man on the ground contort his facial muscles in abject horror.  

“Stop it, you’re hurting him!” 

 He could hear his own vocal chords start to tear as he shrieked for the poor victim.  With each passing moment, fear and anxiety seized the doctor in his entirety before he finally managed to part the crowd like the red sea. 

In the end,

he wasn’t faced with a crew member. 

...

A merman. 

Something he’d only heard of in the planet’s folklore. 

It seemed well-known the small surviving population hardly ever ventured out of protected waters for fear of predators. 

What was this one doing so far out…?

With the opportunity making itself known, the unknown merman continued to thrash but harder, lips curling upwards as another shrill cry of agony streaked the night air.  From up close, the doctor could only watch the formerly smooth, unmarred skin become tainted with red.  Washed with your own blood, you looked more similar to some kind of horror movie monster than a person. 

But even in the face of monstrosity, his inner doctor only saw the blown out pupils, the senseless aggression, the fear written all over his patient’s face in their own claret stain.

“You’ll end up killing him, stop, STOP!” 

He completely ignored his own pain as the barbs in the net ripped into the fabric of his pajamas, cutting open his knees when he threw his body on top of yours.  His hands flew around carelessly in an attempt to unlatch the hands that seemed determined to pull at you from every direction.  

At the loss of the hands all over your body, your screams died down into pitiful hyperventilation, curling in on yourself in an attempt to cover the wounds weeping crimson all over the formerly white net.  

Instead of relief, instead of some kind of graditude, it seemed he was only met with friction.

“Oy, blondie, paws off, do you understand how much money you’ve got your hands on right now?” 

The thick accent confused him at first, then the words themselves didn’t seem to compute. 

“Excuse me?” 

You yelped again when one of the men pulled at the net.   The cold metal tore sore flesh in chunks.

“Mermaid scales are priceless.  So are the pearls they cry, we caught the bastard fair and square so. Step. Off.” 

His mind scrambled to understand the sentence, thoughts muddling together in a blender of pain and panic.  “I- I-” 

“You?”  Another crew member chimed in, crossing his arms, “You’ll what, doctor?  You can either get off of him and wrap up your cuts yourself or we’ll drag you off and the barbs can teach you to keep your nose out of other people’s business.” 

“I-”  his breathing picked up drastically, suddenly confronted with such a terrible moral dilemma. 

When prying hands began to make grabby motions for the edges of the ropes, he choked out his final answer.

“I'll pay for him!"

“...”

“...”

“...”

He swept his rain-soaked bangs out of his face, his voice shaking, “You were planning on selling him, right?”  He fumbled with his sleeves, “I make good money, I swear, I-,” he swallowed, “I can afford it.  Just take as much as you want out of the account I used to pay for my cabin.”

“...” 

“...”

Things were a little bit awkward, to say the least. 

Despite an attempt being made to cooperate while you were awake, it seemed the pressure and the mounting stress of nearly dying made it unable for you to accept the fact that Luocha was not, in fact, going to hurt you. 

The attempt to deal with the various injuries littered all over formerly smooth, silky skin was unproductive at best.  In fact, it only created more problems.  Trying to operate while you were largely unreceptive to anything he was saying was by far the worst decision he could’ve made given the circumstances. 

Point blank, he needed to get the barbed hooks out of your skin.  If he didn’t, the wounds would be at increased risk of infection.  After all, based on the cruel treatment he’d seen on deck, he knew the metal was most likely unsanitized.  Doing this while you were awake was easily the worst decision he could've made.

Promising not to hurt you while continually yanking pieces of metal out of your tender flesh was not a good way to build trust. 

"..."

"..."

You poked at the “strange” bowl that’d been set in front of you.  It was some kind of clam-fish hybrid soup. I mean, Luocha was trying to be considerate of your regular diet.  Surely, since you were living out in open waters, you were pretty used to eating fish right?

He, however, failed to realize you weren’t exactly in a spot to ever enjoy the luxuries of cooked food… or soup.  He’d laid out some utensils for you to use on top of that; it was a shame you didn’t know how to use them. 

"..."

"..."

You realized pretty early on that he’d saved you from becoming a victim to death by blood loss.  After all, when you were dropped in a holding tank until the ship arrived at the port, the water went cloudy from the dirt, debris, and blood all over your body.  In your little waist-high tank, he’d done his best to make sure you’d actually survive through the night.

Despite your reservations about him, you did your best not to scream while you were confined to a glorified holding cell.  Nails digging into the glass, biting down hard enough on the towel to tear, you tried your best to stay still while he fished countless little hooks from your back, arms, and chest.  

Removing the large hook in your shoulder was the most painful part of the process for the both of you.  You, for obvious reasons.  The hook made a clean cut through the muscle--scraping up against the bone--by the time you were awake enough to realize you were wrapped up in a barbed net.  Luocha, on the other hand, was the one that had to deal with the struggle while trying to complete a very tricky operation.  

Eventually, the problem dealt with itself when you passed out.  Really, he should’ve sedated you to start with, and he cursed at himself for not thinking of it sooner.  After you went out, he did his best to stitch everything up–hell, he wrapped you up in enough bandages to look like a mummy. 

But, since the two of you actually arrived on the island, there wasn’t so much as a word shared from either party. 

You woke up in a little bathtub, in a little bathroom, feeling like your arms were falling off and you couldn’t breathe because of how tight all of the bandages were wrapped around you. Eventually the giant bandages changed to smaller ones attached with some medical tape.  The only bulky one left was the one wrapped around your shoulder. 

"..."

"..."

With some trepidation, you grabbed at one of the fishtails sticking out of the mystery liquid, digging a finger in between the meat and the ribs to peel it off the bone.  Carefully, you used one of your freshly trimmed nails to remove the thick, scaly skin, then biting off a chunk to chew and swallow.  

The longer you stared at the bowl, the more confused you became. 

Yes, you knew how to eat a fish. 

Yes, you knew how to eat a mussel. 

No, you didn’t know what to do with whatever else was in the bowl.  

You paused eating when the man sitting across from the bathtub cleared his throat.  He made a vague gesture towards your lap, “Would you…?”

‘...mind if I showed you how to eat a bowl of soup?’ 

Without much hesitation, you offered up your meal again, much more interested in the chunk of fish in your hand.  Biting off another piece, you drank in the pleasant familiarity in just having some tilapia for once.  

He picked up the spoon. Deciding not to embarrass you further, he decided to taste test the food himself instead of trying to feed you. He let the silver spoon clatter back into the bowl, passing it over to you again. Despite the clear demonstration he’d given you, you opted to pick at one of the mussels hiding underneath the broth. 

“...”

“...”

He cleared his throat again, seemingly averting eye contact as he stared at the tiled walls. 

You diverted your attention from your bowl back to the blonde doctor. 

“I don’t mean to be rude or pry in any way,” he swallowed, “but what exactly were you doing so far from protected waters?"

You didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by his question, grabbing at the other fish tail in the bowl, “Smuggling and poaching.”  

He tilted his head curiously.

“Protective waters have attendants to track general pod health, they have the authority to temporarily remove merfolk from the water to do routine health checks."  You finally wrapped your hand around the spoon awkwardly, bringing some broth up to your lips. "Smugglers get jobs as attendants cause only tagged mermaids are considered protected.” You wiggled one of your finned ears, your left ear. Notably, there was a small tear in one of the fins. “It only takes a couple minutes for an attendant to catch a mermaid, sedate them, get them into a vehicle, remove their tag and throw them out into the right spots for a couple grand.” 

“I see.” 

You hummed, finally bringing the soup up to your lips, “Speaking of, how much did you end up having to pay for me?”

"..."

"..."

“Excuse me?” Luocha’s hands rested in his lap. 

“How much did you end up paying for me?”  You picked up another mussel, “I’m pretty good about keeping up with the price of scales and pearls.  I know you bought me as some kind of pity project, but I'm pretty eager to go back out to open waters.  Just name your price and I can start trying to pay off the debt.” 

The doctor blinked a couple times. “Oh… oh my god, absolutely not!”  He shook his head, bringing his hands up in front of his chest defensively, “There is no need to pay me back in the slightest.  Please, just rest well and remain healthy.  That would be the best payment.”

“What’s this?” 

He rolled the small iridescent pearl between his gloved fingers. 

“It’s a pearl.” 

He cracked a smile at that. It was gone as quick as it arrived as he brought the little treasure to his face to take a closer look.  “Well yes, but where did you get this? Did you have it stashed on you somewhere?”

You twirled your finger in a circle on the surface of the water. “No,” absentmindedly you observed the little whirlpool it made, “I made it.” 

He blinked a couple of times, hand dropping back to his side. “Pardon?” 

You finally looked up from the surface of the water, “I made it.” 

He cocked his head to the side, “You… made a pearl?” 

You looked at him, bored, “Well, yeah, did you not know mermaids make pearls?”

He looked from you, to the pearl, and then back at you.  “No… I’m afraid I didn’t know.”  His palm closed into a fist around the pearl, “How?” 

“...hm?”

He gestured towards his closed hand, “How did you make it?” 

You gave a huff, “Well, you’ve seen me make them before.”  

He frowned, “I… have?”

‘-and I didn’t notice?’

You nodded, shifting around in the bathtub to try and stretch your long tail out a little bit.  "The night I got caught on the boat-" Your jaw tensed, a sudden pang of soreness shooting up from your extremities. "-they were all over the deck, there were a bunch in the little tank they had me in.” 

His frown only deepened as he did his best to recall, “I don’t think I remember seeing them…? Does your blood crystalize into them or something of the sort?” 

You rested your head on the porcelain of the tub, bringing your arms up to cushion your cranium.  “Tears,” you murmured, “Merfolk tears turn into pearls.” 

‘Ah… so that’s why you mentioned there being so many on the ship.’

But then it hit him. 

“Why were you crying?” 

You shrugged, “Most mermaids in protected waters can cry on command.  We get a lot of tourists that give us gifts, sometimes if we’re interested we’ll give them a pearl in return.” 

He nodded like he understood, but suddenly the beautiful gem felt heavy in his fist.  He opened his hand and offered it back, “As beautiful as it is, I don’t wish to see you shedding any tears while you’re under my care.” 

You pushed his outstretched hand away, “Well, I already made it.  There’s no use trying to return it.” 

“Still, I feel terrible receiving a gift with such painful origins,” he sat down on the stool that’d become his usual spot.  “I’m a doctor. My goal is to make sure you’re in the least amount of pain possible.” 

“You should feel honored, you’re really the first person I’ve ever given a pearl to,” you raised your head from its spot on your arms, “I usually only gave them to little kids that didn’t bring me gifts so I’d give them something.”  You sank further into the water in the shallow tub.

“My concern is why you believe you should be giving me gifts in the first place,” he crossed his left leg over his right, scooting in closer, “I’ve already told you that taking care of you has always been of my own volition.  It is quite literally my job.  If you’re giving this to me as a gift and not repayment, I might be more inclined to accept it.” 

You huffed,  “Well, I guess you caught me.” 

His brows furrowed, “So I was right, you’re trying to pay back a debt again.” 

“...”

“...”

“...”

This time, he sighed.  “I’ve already told you, your health and wellbeing are both priceless.  I would never ask a patient I forced into care to pay me any sum of money-”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” The water rippled when you sat up suddenly, “Why don’t you want to accept any kind of payment? I’m tired of talking to you as property and owner.  You bought ownership, legally I’m your property. I don’t want to be your property.” 

“You aren’t my property-” He quipped, expression growing displeased.

“But I am,” you cut him off.  “You signed paperwork, you exchanged a certain sum of money.  Even if you thought I couldn’t hear you doesn’t mean I didn’t.” You crossed your arms across your chest, “I still heard the captain of the ship talking about sale prices with you.  I know I was considered a higher quality product, I know I was expensive.”

The doctor opened his mouth; and closed it and opened it again.  He struggled to find the correct words to use. “I didn’t consider that an exchange for ownership of you, I considered that to be the price of your wellbeing.  I’ve never considered you to be anything but an equal to me.” 

You drew your lips into a tight line, “Well, if I was an equal, you’d let me contribute to the cost somehow.  You wouldn’t treat me like some helpless baby.”  You gestured to his closed palm, “The pearl in your hand is priceless, sealing a handful of them would recuperate the money you wasted-”

Luocha held up his hand, “Stop-”

But you insisted, “Hell, if I ripped a couple of scales out you could more than pay for me.  You’d have enough money to buy another sorry sack of shit to take care of-”

“Don’t EVER-” he cut you off aggressively, “EVER, suggest such ludacris things to me again.  I refuse to even think about it.” 

“..."

Luocha shook his head, getting his gloves wet when he reached into the water to hold your hands in his own, “I would never ask you to do something like that to yourself.  I would never ask you to hurt yourself to please me and I would never ask you to hurt yourself because you needed my help.”  He gave your palms a gentle squeeze, “You did not ask to be put in the position you’re in now,  I am the one that chose to do this and I will be the one to set the price on my help; that price-” he paused, making sure you were looking him in the eyes, “-will always be no price at all.”   He pushed the pearl back into your hands.  “Give this pearl to one of the children that visit the waters after you’ve healed up in my stead, yes?” 

“It’s not exactly how I remember it.” 

You squirmed against the sensation of the water, arms still looped around Luocha’s neck.  

“Any discomfort?” The doctor asked, “Tell me if anything hurts.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” You shuffled around to try and make yourself comfortable.  You did your best to find the familiar rhythm of the waves, but your tail felt as useless as it had the entire time you’d been confined to the bathtub.  “It’s… cold.” 

Luocha nodded... even though he couldn't quite understand.  “If you aren’t straining any of your injuries, you can hang on for as long as you need to.”

You mumbled, trying to draw your elbows closer to your chest, “I’m not.” 

“...”

“...”

It’d only been a week since the last time you’d tried to repay your imaginary debt to Luocha.  Things got… less tense between the two of you. 

You didn’t put up a fuss when he put some ointment on the scars that formed all over your skin.  You didn’t squirm when he unwrapped your shoulder bandage.  You’d usually bide your time silently in the bathtub.  Mostly, you’d nap.  But that got old quickly, especially since a bathtub isn’t the most convenient spot for sleeping. 

Luocha could tell you were bored out of your mind all on your lonesome. To satiate this, he’d usually sit with you in the bathroom and try to teach you things like how to play cards.  You were a little apprehensive with him, like you always were, but it seemed you opened up to him a lot more towards the end of your stay in his temporary residence.

You’d become a pretty competent blackjack player all things considered.

You opened up more and more about your life down below.  Usually, you’d be afraid to tell anyone about that information.  Smugglers often targeted specific pods if one of the products happened to be particularly pricy.  But Luocha wasn't at any risk, was he? 

“...”

“...”

Eventually, as the water started to feel more natural on your skin, you let your grip loosen from around his neck.  As the welcoming embrace of the ocean seemed to envelop more and more of your body, you could feel the former tension in your muscles start to melt away. 

You laid yourself horizontal to the surface of the water, tentatively starting to create your own ripples in the vast expanses of blue.  Maybe it didn’t feel exactly as you remembered, but the gentle pressure of the cool, cool sea against your skin felt like home. 

Your arms splayed out in the waves like an angel, basking in the familiarity of it all.  “You can let go now.” 

Slowly, surely, pale arms lowered you into the arms of the same waters you’d been in a little over two months ago.  You shocked yourself when you chased after his hands. Still, as slick as an eel, you slid away from him into the open ocean, finding a boyish glee in the pure ecstasy of true freedom.  

You took off like a little jet, head first into the deep end. 

Luocha could only really watch with a small smile while you explored the vast array of little treasures hidden beneath the horizon line.  

It felt like only fifteen minutes had passed when you re-emerged from beneath the ocean blue, but to your shock, the sun was starting to set and Luocha was off on dry land, wringing the water out of his hair.  

In all of your fun, it seemed you’d forgotten about that man who’d made all of this possible for you. 

“...”

You pursued him onto the sand, watching him characteristically tilt his head to the side to express his curiosity.  You pushed your own wet mop of hair out of your face with your hand, suddenly feeling a little less confident in your choices.  Despite your trepidation, you felt you at least owed him this much. 

That didn't make it any easier.

“I-” you swallowed, curling in on yourself, “What if I wanted to give you a gift? If it wasn’t some kind of repayment?” 

He smiled, flipping a soaked lock of hair over his shoulder, “As long as you aren’t lying to me about repayment, then I would gladly accept.”

You suddenly felt a new wave of confidence wash over you, your chest puffing up a little bit, “Well, I have a gift for you.” Even though you failed to notice your little finned ears wiggling in excitement, Luocha did not. 

You reached up to your right ear, unhooking the beautiful golden earring that’d you'd been wearing since you’d been thrown out of protective waters.

His eyes widened.   

“It-” You offered the hoop to him, “It was my mom’s.”

Luocha blinked a couple times, staring at the bangle before looking back up at your face instead.  

“Well?  You said you’d accept it if it was a gift.”  You pushed it into his face, feeling a red hot flush wash over your features, “This is a gift; from me to you, no strings attached.” 

He carefully took the thin gold loop in his fingers.  He noticed the signs of oxidation and the water damage. 

It was already far less valuable than the pearl you’d tried to offer him.

Yet its sentimental value was unrivaled. 

“...”

“...”

“Did... your mother like jewelry?”

You shrugged, looking away from him, “Yeah, she had a lot of it from my dad.” 

Luocha nodded.  “Well, did she have a favorite kind of jewelry?” 

At this, you paused.  “I mean… I guess she did.  She wore a lot of rings… why?” 

“Well, since this is a gift I won’t refuse it,- Luocha slid one of the golden bands wrapped around his fingers off,  “-but if you can’t have her earring anymore, then you can at least have a piece of jewelry your mother would’ve liked to wear.”

You felt your face transition from an embarrassed pink to a much deeper red.  “You… you know what you’re offering me, r-right?” 

He didn’t respond in the way you expected.  Instead of his usual confusion, he pushed the ring towards you again with one hand.  The other went to work, looping the clasp of the earring through a piercing that was just a little bit too close to closing.  

It felt like your brain was melting.

‘Is he… flirting with me?’ 

You took the golden ring between your fingers, watching him use his newly freed hand to further force the earring through the piercing hole. You could only feel the heat creep up your neck to your ears; fuck, it felt like you were going to burn alive on the sand. 

When he finally got it in, he flipped a chunk of wet hair over his shoulder.  He framed the golden hoop with his palm.  Playfully, he asked, “How does it look?” 

‘...’

‘He’s definitely flirting.’ 

You immediately ripped your gaze from his face to the ring that suddenly felt like a hundred pounds in your palm. 

‘...What fingers do humans usually put the ring on again?’

Shakily you slid the golden ring onto your left hand, examining the way it glinted in the light of the sunset.  

‘...holy shit, did I just get married?’ 

“[name]?” 

You blinked a couple times, suddenly ripping your gaze away from the shiny metal.  “Sorry, sorry.” 

He chuckled at your expense, enjoying the little fluttering of your ears everytime he seemed to catch your attention again.  “Thank you for the gift, I’ll cherish it dearly.” 

You nodded. 

“...”

“...”

The silence was interrupted with a quiet sniffle. 

“...[name]?”

You aggressively wiped the tear off your face, watching the consequent pearl roll across the grains of sand.  “H-Hey, you can’t just give me this ring and leave-” You took a deep breath, “-That’s not fair, that’s not fair at all.” 

He was a little taken aback at the sudden resurgence of emotion, “Would…” he paused.  He thought it over before tentatively putting a hand on your shoulder, “Would it help if I stayed a little longer?” 

You shook your head, putting your hand over the one on your shoulder to hold it between both of your own hands.  “You have to promise to visit me a lot.  It’s going to take me a long time to find my family, so if you don’t visit I’m going to be lonely.” 

He, once again caught off guard, nodded, “O-Of course!” His own cheeks tinted a pale pink. 

“You promise?” 

He nodded again, this time using his other hand to clasp your hand in both of his.  “I promise I’ll visit.”

a side note for this upcoming section: i did a lot of world-building for this fic behind the scenes, the current planet they're on is largely submerged beneath the waters and they live on a bunch of island nations. To link up with that idea, my idea of the mermaid smuggling industry is to do with the concept of foreigners coming in and destroying local ecosystems. (Colonization)

Long story short, the planet is loosely based on Polynesian Islands so I chose Māori names for our supporting cast but keep in mind I am FAR from an expert and I mean literally no disrespect at all to anyone at all. Only the names are Māori in nature because I feel like no matter how much research I do, I would be unable to capture the essence of the rich culture of New Zealand. I'm a little gay fanfic writer I have not done nearly enough research to claim I know ANYTHING, I just thought it'd be cool and help with world-building in case people want a part-two or something

“What’s got you so worked up?” 

“Shut the fuck up Iarere, this is like the seventh time in the same hour.” 

Your younger brother held his hands up defensively, “Well, things got boring around here without you!”  He let himself fall towards the ground next to the boulder you’d splayed out all the little pieces of gold you’d managed to scrounge up.  “You manage to make it back from outside of protective waters and instead of hating everything and everyone, you’re suddenly getting all buddy buddy with the tourists trying to get some trinkets.  I know you’re old but are you really getting that desperate?” 

You frowned, “I’m not that old.” 

Iarere rested his face on the cool surface of the rock, prodding at one of the particularly flashy necklaces.  “You’re old to me.”  

Your frown deepened. Not just because your brother was calling you old, but because Luocha’s weekly visit was coming up and you hadn’t managed to gather up nearly as much as you would’ve wanted.   For your kind, caring, doctor husband who was already well off, a few necklaces and a handful of rings and earrings wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to woo him.  “I guess I am getting towards the end of the usual age people get married at.” 

The younger man nodded, humming, “Yeah, so do you have anyone in mind?” 

You bit your lip.  

I mean, yes, you were married. 

But it felt inauthentic if you didn’t present your husband with some kind of dowry first. 

Yes, Luocha only presented you with one of his old rings, but he also paid a hefty sum to rescue you from certain doom.  He also nursed you back to good health, refused to take any payment for any of the medical treatments or the food that’d been wasted making sure you’d retain your strength throughout your recovery. 

In your mind, maybe human dowries were just a little bit different. 

Despite opening your mouth to voice your dissent, your little brother jumped up at the opportunity to tease you.  “So you do have someone you’re thinking about!” 

“I-” 

“What are they like?” Iarere gripped your shoulders, tearing your attention away from your inner dilemma.  “What do they look like? Do I know them?”  He gasped, shaking you back and forth and he demanded to know, “Did you meet them while you were outside?!” 

You gripped at his shoulders in return, “I didn’t say I had anyone in mind!” 

“...”

“...”

He pursed his lips, “Yeah, I’m not buying it.” 

You groaned, bringing your hands up to your face.

He only got more excited, leaning in way too close for comfort as he squealed, “So I was right?!” 

“Right about what?” 

Your eyes darted over to the side, watching one of the few friends you’d managed to retain at your grown age.  “Thank the gods, Akahata, get Iarere off me before he gives me whiplash.” 

He hummed, “Well, I’m more interested in what exactly you guys were talking about before.”  You watched as his eyes flitted from you and your brother to all the precious metal and gems you’d laid out.  “Actually don’t tell me, let me guess.”  He pointed at the rock, “You’re setting up a dowry, but you’re upset because you know no amount of jewelry would ever get anyone in the pod to consider settling down with your ugly mug.”

“HAH!” 

Your ears fluttered in irritation.  “That’s a horrible guess.” 

Akahata shrugged, “Well, I mean, your mug’s only ugly cause you frown all the time.  If you actually made an effort to smile more, you’d probably have a lot more people that’d be willing to accept you with no dowry.” 

Your frown tugged at the corners of your lips as you massaged your temples, “For your information, I’m making a dowry cause I already got married.” 

“...”

“...’

“...”

“You WHAT?!” 

Iarere’s fists clenched even tighter around your biceps, “You told me you lost mom’s earring, not that you got married-” 

“It’s a long story-” You started, 

“Not long enough to not tell either of us!” Your best friend screamed in abject horror.  “The moment Ngaio and I started courting each other I told you immediately-”  You grimaced when he pushed your brother out of the way to be the one to shake you back and forth, “-and you get married and you don’t tell me until afterwards?!” 

“It wasn’t planned! I didn’t even realize he was courting me until he gave me his ring-” You countered, face lighting up pink.

“So it’s a him…” Iarere mumbled, putting his hand to his chin.  His expression lit up as the pieces started clicking together in his head.  “Is that where you’re going tomorrow?!” 

“YOU’RE GOING TO MEET HIM TOMORROW?!” 

You were growing more overwhelmed by the minute, averting eye contact.  “Yeah, so what? We’ve been meeting up every week while I was looking for you guys.  Is it weird for husbands to spend time together?” 

Akahata abruptly let go of you, leaving red imprints of his hands on your arms.  “That’s not that problem, that problem-” he paused for dramatic effect, “-is that you’re planning on meeting up with him after returning and you’re not even telling us who he is!” 

Iarere put a hand over his heart, feigning his disappointment as he let himself sink into the sand below.  “I think I’m going to faint.” 

You sighed, “Well-”

Akahata jabbed an accusatory finger in your chest again, “Is he even good looking enough for you? Is he any good at providing? What was his dowry like?  What pod is he even from?!”

“He’s not from a pod-”

Your brother hummed, “So is he a lone wanderer out beyond the boundaries of protected waters saving pretty mermen he wants to marry?” 

Your face twisted into one of disgust, “Keep your fantasies to yourself.” 

Iarere huffed, “Well, what else am I supposed to think when you say he’s not from a pod?  He obviously has so be some kind of lone wolf, PLUS you got married before you made it back.” 

Akahata put a contemplative hand under his chin, “I mean he has a point.” 

You shook your head, “He’s a human.” 

“...” 

“...” 

“...”

“You’re joking.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You’re joking…” 

You held up your hand, gesturing towards the ring on your finger. 

“Oh my god, you’re not actually joking.” 

Your younger brother squealed, “Oh my god this is like something out of all those movies on the surface! Tell me all about it!” 

You frowned, pushing through both your peers to make it back to your makeshift table top.  “He’s… a doctor, but he was working as a trader on a big ship.   He was there the night I got caught and he ended up buying me off the boat and he patched me up and released me.” 

Your best friend sighed, “Only you can make a story that romantic sound like a business deal.” 

Iarere furrowed his brows, “Wait, wait, wait, when did he propose?” 

“Well-” You fumbled over your words, “I caught feelings and I thought I might as well start the courtship process-” 

“YOU made the first move?!” 

“Shut up!” You pushed your overly eager younger brother’s face away, “I didn’t know if he even knew about mermaid courting so if I was going to start courting him, I had to do it then.”

“...go on.”

You sighed, “I gave him mom’s old earring, but instead of just taking it, he gave me one of the rings he was wearing.” You covered your face, feeling another wave of crimson wash everywhere from your neck to the tips of your ears.  You still couldn’t get the memory of him showing off the earring out of your fucking head. “I mean- I- I even asked if he knew what offering me his ring meant and he just put it in my hand.” 

Your younger brother kicked around on the sand eagerly, waving his hands around excitedly.  “That is actually one of THE most romantic proposals I’ve ever heard of!” 

Akahata crossed his arms, “Damn, I feel like mine was lacking.” 

You huffed, “Well, Ngaio is still your wife.” 

“And whatever his face is still managed to wife you--of all people--up.”

“Touche.”

“Oh wow, you brought more than you usually do.” 

Luocha chuckled behind his hand, his own little bag of purchased trinkets hanging loosely at his side. 

You hummed, thumbing over the beautiful glistening stone of a diamond necklace you’d managed to get off of a rather infamous regular.  “You’re one to talk.” 

He gave a small grunt of exertion as he sat next to you on the sand, letting the bag fall to the side, “You��ve got me there.”  He couldn’t help the pleasant swell of warmth in his face as you gestured for him to turn around. 

I mean, maybe you weren’t the best at communicating what you were feeling or what you wanted from him, but you’d been getting better.  Instead of just grunting a yes or no to the questions he’d ask, you’d actually make time for some conversation with him.  Be it from your annoying younger brother to the changes in the pod since you’d returned, it seemed you shared what little woes you had with Luocha.  

You also seemed to share endless amounts of little golden treasures with him.  From old, worn gold, oxidized iron, anything really that you could find, you provided it to him and put it on him with the most delicate touch your rough, scarred hands could muster.  Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was something.  He couldn’t control the way his heart sped up whenever you leaned in to help him put on a new pair of earrings you’d gifted him.  He surmised gift giving was some kind of love language that was common among merfolk.  Perhaps you’d also enjoy it if he brought you gifts of equal value! 

Still, the pounding in his heart was not helped when you’d started smiling at him. 

Everytime he managed to catch one of the rare glimpses of your smile–even worse when you’d laugh–he almost felt like he was looking at something forbidden.  Something he wasn’t worthy of, right in front of him.  For someone who had been through so much, you really opened up to him remarkably quickly after you’d been released.  Perhaps before release you’d been scared of being sold off? The familiar feeling of the waters must’ve don wonders to make you relax this much. 

Even worse when the physical affection began.  It started as simple as reaching out to the side of his face to brush the hair away from his ear so you could catch sight of the golden hoop he’d taken to wearing.   It transitioned to taking his gloves off so you could look at the rings you ended up gifting him.   Before he could really process how quickly the two of you were moving, you were pressed up against him at every opportunity.  

He knew it was natural for merfolk to not wear clothing, but did you have to have such a muscular chest? 

Even now, as you fumbled with the clasp of the absolutely beautiful diamond necklace, you wrapped an equally muscular aquatic tail around his leg.  He didn’t exactly know if this was normal between merfamily-could he call them that?--, being overly affectionate.   Even if it felt like a little more than just normal bonding, he did his best to still the pounding of his heart when your fingers brushed his hair out of the way so you could make sure the gem was oriented correctly.  

Trying his hardest to quell the tide of warmth surging up to the tips of his ears, he put a hand over his erratic heartbeat.  He prayed to the Aeons above you couldn’t feel it as your chest pressed against his back.  

You wrapped your arms snug around his torso, pulling him further into your stomach.  Resting your chin on top of his blonde hair, you found the gloved hand resting over his heart to hold in your own.   The two of you let the silence hang in the air for a moment. 

“...”

“...”

You gave a quiet huff before you moved your chin from on top of his head to bury itself into the crook of his neck.  As his fingers interlocked with yours, he found himself looking at all the gold rings he’d adorned your fingers with.  Each and every one, he could put a time and day to. 

But then, his eyes landed on your ring finger. 

“Oh, you still wear that old thing?”

“...hm?”

You glanced down at your hand, raising a brow.  His finger was tracing over the ring he’d exchanged when he was releasing you back into the open water.

“You still wear the same earring I gave you,” you murmured, flicking it with your freehand.  “I’ve given you countless pairs of earrings since, yet even when you wear one stud, you’ll always wear the same one every time I see you.” 

His chest rumbled with a bout of laughter, “I suppose you’re right.”  He perked up suddenly, “Oh, that reminds me, speaking of this earring…” He reached towards the rather large bag of gifts he’d brought with him.  He threw a few of the boxes of gold ornaments he’d purchased before finally fishing the box he was looking for out of the bottom.  “I went shopping and when I saw this pair, I simply knew you’d love it.” 

You hummed, looking at the little navy blue box in his hand.

He made quick work of the bow wrapped around the holding case, nimble fingers peeling open the little box before he presented you with his gift on their signature velvet cushion. It looked like… 

…a replica of your mother’s earrings. 

He offered them up to you with a bashful smile, watching in silent amusement when your ears flicked back and forth in some kind of excitement. 

Delicately, gently, you picked up one of the hoops and twirled it around your fingers. 

“...”

“...”

“...Well? Do you like it?”

You didn’t respond, reaching up to your right ear to remove the little stud you’d chosen to wear to this outing.  Fidgeting with the clasp of the loop, you threaded it with a calculated ease through your piercing.   

“I like it.” 

He clasped his hands together, “Good, I’m more than glad.” 

“...”

“...”

“She would’ve loved to meet you.” 

“Hm?”

You paused, “My mother, I mean,” Your thumb fidgeted with the back of the earring.  “She always wanted to see her sons get married, but she passed before she could.” 

Luocha blinked.  

“Pardon?” 

You tilted your head to the side, “My mother; she would’ve loved to meet you.” 

“No, no,” Luocha could feel the deep claret paint his face a messy red as he scooted to face you, “What did you mean by seeing her sons get married?”

“...

…Did you not know?” 

Luocha blinked. 

“We’re married.” 

Another blink. 

“You… Is that why…?” He gestured towards the gifts strewn across the sand.  He looked back towards his own bag of gifts. 

‘Oh for crying out loud-’

“I-” he cleared his throat, “I apologize, I seem to have… entered this marriage under false pretenses.”  He put his hands on his temples, “How- Where- When exactly did this happen?”

You hummed, “When you let me back out into the water.  When I gifted you my mother’s earring, that was the signal I wanted to start courting you.  When you gift something back, that’s an officiation of marriage.” 

He coughed into his hand, trying to think through this situation logically. 

Okay, so he accidentally got married.

What the fuck. 

The train of thought seemed to end there. 

…

He was, however, plagued with another train of thought. 

‘Well, you have been making eyes at him for a few months now.’ 

…

Those thoughts were not helping.  

“...”

“...”

“If you want to end the marriage, it’s as simple as saying so,” you added, “I thought you knew what my intentions were-”

“NO!”

Luocha covered the bottom half of his mouth.  “I’m fine with the arrangement as is, but it appears human marriage and merfolk marriage are officiated in very different ways.” 

Your brows furrowed. 

“...”

“...”

“...Are you saying you want to officiate the marriage as humans would?”

The tips of Luocha’s ears burned with embarrassment.  “I-” 

You held one of his hands in yours, eyes seemingly boring holes into his face,  “Whatever it is, as long as you want to do it, I will do it to the best of my ability.” 

Any complaints were silenced when he was confronted with such sincerity.  “Well…”

You waited patiently, folding your hands in your lap.  

Finally, it seemed your “husband” made up his mind.  

“Close your eyes.” 

You paused, seemingly surprised, but nonetheless your eyes fluttered shut moments after. 

Luocha urged himself to breathe, flexing and unflexing his hands.  

He leaned forward, closing his eyes as he…

…planted an innocent peck on your lips.

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" idk how to describe it but now being on the other side of this, i'm feeling something similar to post nut clarity "

first post since losing literally everything on my first account yay !!

yes guys, luocha and his mermaid husband were openly cuddling on the beach for months and he's wondering "is he into me or am i bro-zoned"

that being said, losing my tumblr has now forced me to realize how many people genuinely like my writing hey guys I went scrolling through user kamisatoelogy's blog to look for their modern ayato fic and i found out someone dedicated time and effort into archiving my works???? and you guys went looks for me????

i fr feel like getting on my hands and knees and thanking everyone for all their support and love over this process and apologizing for scaring you guys so bad

you guys are so sweet and so many of you have been so helpful in getting my blog back up and running again :((

i started drafting my fics in google docs to make sure it isn't all GONE if i get shit on again so this chapter is brought to you by font: unica one, it was 27 pages total (i am insane)

shout out to Chappell Roan cause she really put me in my tunnel vision work zone while i was writing this

if u guys r looking for a writing hack, i trained myself like a sleeper agent to start writing when i play songs on hour loop it puts me in a work rut

- love, operator t-19

[mitchellnman]

UPTOWN GIRL / DOWNTOWN BOY.

Request from @slytherincursebreaker

Prompt: Reader all happy and bubbly college student received a text from her boyfriend which her friends were like excited who it was the mystery man like is he handsome or is he a student, the reader describes him tall, sweet, no he's not a student, he's working ( nothing illegal ) and he's handsome, so manly. Her friends are like excited. Then they pointed the bloke who the popular guy in college and has a crush on the Reader and they were excited, until Reader said what no not him oh there he is, she pointed which is Martin which her friends are like wtf, or is she blind or she lost a bet. When she hugged Martin and kissed him.

Word count: 727

Genre: fluff

Warnings: swearing, a slightly shitty friend, she/her pronouns, no beta reader we die like my brain cells scrolling through twitter

A/N: hi hello if you'd like a sequel I've got a few ideas for their date! Hope you enjoy, and have a good day!

—

You loved this time of year. The trees had began to shift from green, to yellow, to orange. The skies were always cloudy, the air was crisp and cool - which meant you could wear your boyfriends windbreakers and hoodies as often as you wanted. Which, was every day, and sometimes to bed if you were particularly lonely.

They smelled like him, and in moments when you thought no one was looking, you would duck your head, and tuck your nose into the collar. He was so supportive of you, and so achingly sweet, it was hard not to miss him every second if every day.

You were both busy now, that was the only downside to this time of year. You were in a good college, studying hard, and he was working. He hadn't told you yet, but you had overheard a phone call he had made to a friend, talking about how he was saving up to buy a slightly bigger place so that you two could live together after you graduated next year.

He was so thoughtful, you mused, as a dreamy smile splayed upon your lips, like a child thinking about their favorite candy bar.

"Hey, space cadet." One of your friends teased, waving her hand in front of your face. "Your phone just went off."

You blinked, your cheeks heating up. "Thanks, Sam." You pulled your phone out, your boyfriend's pet lizard as your screensaver. It was a text from him, and you grinned, brighter than the sun.

M: almost there love <3

"So?" Sam asked, leaning forward on the table the four of you were sitting at; a lovely outdoor cafe, on college grounds. It looked like something off of Pinterest, honestly. "Who is it?"

"My boyfriend, he's picking me up for a date tonight."

"Come on, you have to give us more than that!" Jackie protested to your right. Evelyn nodded in agreement to your left, and they all leaned in conspiratorially.

"Is he a student?" Sam asked.

"Is he tall?" Jackie asked.

"Is he handsome?" Evelyn asked.

You laughed, and covered your face with your hands in an effort to hide your fluster, your skin blisteringly hot under your fingertips. "He's not a student, um, he's fairly tall, and he's... beautiful. Yes, handsome, does all of the manly things you'd expect, opening doors, fixing things, reaching stuff on the high shelves, but - he's so sweet." You said, peeking out from between your fingers. “He's an utter dream.”

"Aww." Jackie said. "He sounds so nice. What does he do?”

“Well,” you said. “He works at a music store, and he has a few hobbies, and he does a recreational sport, for money.”

“Oh, interesting!” Jackie said, genuine invested in this. “I've got to meet him—”

A car pulled up alongside the curb, and a handsome man stepped out; tan, blonde, the star quarterback that was bringing a lot of attention to the college; Tommy.

Sam gasped as the man walked over to them. "Him?"

"The whole school knows he's got a crush on her." Evelyn said, raising an eyebrow. "It's so obvious."

It was, painfully so. He always tried to talk to you, chat you up - but it always came off more like a puppy begging for attention than anything else.

Tommy walked right by you with a wink and a wave, but you shook your head, and pointed. Martin had pulled in alongside him. His resting gloomy face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw you, and he jogged over. You stood up so fast that you nearly knocked your chair over.

"Did you lose a bet, or something?" Evelyn sneered as she pulled her phone out.

"Don't be such a cunt." Jackie said, flicking cookie crumbs at her.

You didn't care. Martin met you halfway, and picked you up by your waist. He spun you around once, and you kissed him, aching for the warmth of his lips against yours.

"Hullo." He whispered, his hands cupping your flushed cheeks. "You taste like cinnamon."

You smiled. "Apple cider donuts. I was going to get some to go." You whispered, happily ignoring the chatter from your friends behind you.

"Good idea. Are you ready to go?" He asked, his voice soft. He brushed his nose against yours, his wild black hair tickling your cheeks.

You nodded. "With you, always.”

[alchemistc]

Eddie's crush on Steve Harrington takes a strange turn when Harrington shows up at school two weeks before Thanksgiving of '84 and refuses to take off his sunglasses until his English teacher threatens to send him to the office - Eddie catches sight of the purple and yellow bruises and Steve spends twenty minutes feeling woozy and then ends up running to the bathroom to throw up because concussions are a bitch.

Eddie, like an idiot, chases after him. Spends half a minute listening to Steve retch and then crawls under the locked stall door to Steve's confused protest and leans against the stall with Steve's hair gathered in one hand until Steve is done puking.

"Hell of a hangover, Harrington," Eddie says to lighten the mood, knowing full well that's not it, and Steve thinks about pressing his face into the cool toilet, doesn't because this is a fucking boys high school bathroom.

"Billy Hargrove knocked my brain around," Steve says, wincing, and Eddie pushes the sunglasses he'd snaked off Steve's desk back on his face.

Eddie smokes him out behind the football fields at lunch and when Steve tries to pay him for the weed Eddie patently ignores the offer - uncaps a pen from his jacket pocket and scrawls his phone number across Steve's forearm and tells him to call if wants to hang out.

"What if I just want weed?"

"My business hours are ten to seven."

Steve calls him two nights later at half past seven and Eddie is Very Cool about it. (He's so not cool about it, he dances around the living room for a full five minutes and is thankful Wayne isn't around to see it.)

They spark up the strangest friendship either one of them have ever had but the moment Eddie realizes he actually genuinely likes Steve as a person he shoves that crush way down deep because Harrington is a genuinely cool dude and Eddie's fucked up friendships misreading the situation before.

----

Gareth fucking hates Steve Harrington.

He comes back from winter break to find Steve Harrington sitting next to Eddie at lunch, keeps his cool until Harrington leaves for gym class and then pitches a whole ass fit but it's too late because Eddie had introduced Steve to the band and a few of the Hellfire club during the break while Gareth was stuck in Mishawaka with his super religious bigot aunt and uncle and all of them grudgingly LIKE Harrington.

Jeff shrugs when Gareth tries to gather up some support. "He made us hot chocolate after band practice because the garage was cold. He charmed my mom into forgetting she hates Eddie."

Paul's zero help, because when Tommy Hagan ran into them at the diner a week into winter break and tried to start shit Harrington had threatened to rearrange Tommy's face and Tommy hasn't looked twice at them since.

The Hellfire club thinks he's adorable because he doesn't know what a kobold is and the thought of a twenty sided die makes him scrunch his nose up like he's in physical pain having the think about it and for some fucking reason they all find that sort of stupidity charming.

Eddie is a nonstarter - one bad word against him and he ices Gareth out for a week.

The third time Harrington almost freezes to death sitting in Gareth's garage while the band practices, he offers up his own garage (It's heated, because of fucking course it is, and he has the decency to pretend to be embarrassed at how fucking rich he is) and then cooks them dinner afterwards like some fifties housewife and actually, fuck everything, Harrington is an alright dude but Gareth doesn't have to LIKE him.

---

Jeff finally has someone to talk to about baseball - Harrington never played but he's a Cubs fan and when Jeff laughs about that for a full twenty minutes Steve has to explain The Curse, and if Eddie gets a gleam in his eye about the masochism of choosing a team destined to lose then Jeff isn't gonna say a word about it. Not his business, and he's not gonna step in shit just because Steve doesn't actually seem opposed to the outrageous fucking flirt Eddie is around him.

He loves his friends, would do pretty much anything for them, but they're all so enamored with the idea of being outcasts that all his mainstream interests get shoved aside and Steve is so goddamn mainstream he's actually not sure how Eddie befriended him but he's not gonna complain about it.

When it becomes clear, sometime around April, that Eddie is probably gonna fail (again) Steve gets a bug up his ass about it and suddenly Nancy fucking Wheeler is spending three nights a week at Eddie's. It'd be sweet, if it didn't cut into band practice, but the first time Jeff bangs on the trailer door to bitch about Eddie missing it again, Steve throws the door open and invites him in to watch the show - Eddie looks like he's about five minutes away from shaking little Nancy until her head pops off, and she looks like she'd like to strangle him right back, and they're arguing about concepts Jeff can't wrap his head around but the fact that Eddie knows his shit and just doesn't apply himself isn't new to Jeff but it clearly is to Wheeler.

When she finally leaves (only after watching Eddie painstakingly write out a scribbled mess of a paper for English class, checking on his progress every twenty minutes or so to his absolute mortification) Steve hands Eddie a beer and Eddie stares at a wall for ten minutes.

"Your ex is scary," Eddie finally mutters, and when he halfheartedly stuffs the finished essay into his bag Steve takes the time to reorganize it in a way that Jeff thinks might actually remind Eddie to turn the fucking thing in.

Jeff doesn't mention that he thinks it's kind of weird to be friends with your ex-girlfriend, especially when the rumor mill is pretty adamant that this particular ex cheated on Harrington.

"I'll make sure to write out a thank you note when you graduate because of her."

They're halfway through a movie when Gareth calls, Steve and Eddie arguing over some piece of trivia about the production team that Steve knows he's wrong about but refuses to give up the fight over, and Jeff feels a little shitty about forgetting the reason he came over in the first place.

They're interesting, is the thing. Jeff likes hanging out with them just to watch the juxtaposition of two guys so startlingly different from each other. And maybe he's a little invested in the will-they-won't-they of it all - because he'd been the first one Eddie had introduced to Steve in the nebulous time between whenever the fuck they'd started hanging out and when Eddie had decided not to keep him some dirty little secret - because he'd sort of just trusted Eddie not to be an idiot about it, and if he thought Harrington was important enough to bring into the fold than who the hell was Jeff to deny that - because Harrington is shockingly loyal and steadfast and Jeff thinks he's probably about a month off from a realization about himself he's probably not fully prepared for.

Jeff's gay uncle is the loneliest dude he's ever known and he'd always figured that was just how it was to be gay but there's shit brewing between Steve and Eddie that Eddie refuses to acknowledge and Steve hasn't noticed yet and there's probably gonna be some drama when it all comes to a head but Jeff knows Steve's gonna need someone other than Eddie to talk about it. So.

---

Steve invites himself into Gareth's the moment he opens the door. Just presses past him and lays himself out on the couch in the living room, and he knows Gareth isn't his biggest fan but that's sort of why he'd come here first. If anyone was gonna give him the absolute truth it's gonna be Gareth.

The thing is, he's been cruising along since November, barely passing his own classes, enjoying having friends who aren't pieces of shit, enjoying getting close to Eddie, ignoring that voice in the back of his head that still lingers in the feel of Eddie's fingers in his hair while he was puking his guts out on the cold bathroom floor, and the ignoring is getting harder and harder because Eddie's naturally a touchy feely person and Steve isn't used to that shit from anyone. The thing is he's pretty sure Eddie telling him he's gay, admitting it like some dark confession with wide eyes and a lick of fear crowding his features - Eddie telling him that shouldn't put him on edge like this, shouldn't make him so fucking angry, because he's trying, alright, he's trying to be, like, a better person and he's pretty sure he'd reacted okay because Eddie hadn't bolted but he's - he's upset about it and Gareth and Jeff are the only ones he's sure already know and he needs some fucking clarity.

Gareth will give it to him straight.

He's on a roll - pacing and gesturing and trying to work his way through all the shit in his head, the idea he's got of Eddie telling him because he's into someone and Steve's gonna end up in the back burner, or third wheeling, or fully fucking forgotten when he's had all of Eddie's attention for the last six months. "It's, like – I'm mad about it. Or. Like. Not mad, I just. The thought of having to see him happy with someone el–."

And. Huh.

"Dude," Gareth says, and Steve feels the laughter breaking loose - the ridiculousness of this moment, of choosing Gareth of all fucking people, the one person he hasn't won over despite his best attempts to not be a total dickhead. Steve fully fucking loses it, flopping onto Gareth's couch, laughing himself hoarse while Gareth stares at him like he's grown a second head, only sobering when Gareth sits himself down on the edge Steve isn't occupying.

"Shit, man," Steve says. "What do I do?" Because he can't lose Eddie, right? Other than Eddie he's got a gaggle of middle schoolers for friends and if things sour with Eddie it's not like Jeff or Paul or any of the others is going to choose Steve.

"Did you mean to come out to me right there, or was that an accident?"

"I literally didn't know until just then."

Gareth's been called some version of a homophobic slur enough times to know it sucks even if it's not true, and he's met Jeff's uncle a few times, seen the pain he carries, has always been terrified of Eddie losing his sparkle to a cruel world, and maybe he's never quite trusted Steve Harrington but clearly Harrington trusts him, which is.

"Eddie's had a crush on you for years, man, why do you think he wanted to be friends with you in the first place?"

"Fuck off," Steve says, and he looks a little miserable about it like he thinks this is some cosmic joke Gareth's cooked up.

"You should probably, like, take some time. Think about it. Make sure you're prepared for how much people fucking suck and decide if whatever you're feeling right now is worth the hassle."

"Eddie's not a hassle," Steve says, and Gareth decides right then and there that Harrington? Actually a good dude.

---

Steve throws a graduation party. It's a smaller affair than he would have had a year ago, more laid back, but a surprising amount of people actually show up - all of Hellfire, even the you freshman who Steve expressly forbids from the punch bowl that's mostly vodka (a few of them sneak a taste and Harrington berates them comically, hands on his hips and looking every inch a harried mother as they slink off towards his pool with the solo cups of water he replaces their punch with).

Nancy shows, even brings Jonathan, and Steve pretends it's not awkward, makes a joke about Nancy avoiding the punch that lands better than he expected and when Nancy slings both arms around Eddie and congratulates him, Jonathan and Steve take a moment to watch the pair.

They've had a few awkward moments in the halls, and a few more any time they happen to be bringing their respective heathens around to the Wheelers at the same time, but Steve had given NancyandJonathan the green light as best he could and he genuinely wants them to do well even if it had fucking sucked at the time to realize he'd felt way more for Nancy than she'd felt for him.

When Eddie and Nancy break the hug they start an argument that will last at least an hour if no one puts a stop to it, so Steve shows Jonathan to the liquor cabinet to make better drinks ("Wasn't kidding about the punch, man," Steve says and Jonathan's smile is almost warm.) and he beelines it out to the poolside where Nancy has her nose scrunched and Eddie is gesturing with both arms flailing in the air.

He has a fucking type.

When the younger kids finally leave and the group dwindles, Jeff and Gareth bemoan who the fuck is gonna run Hellfire now and Jonathan and Steve both throw a name into the hat - and Eddie's only met the kids that seem to hero worship Steve a few times but he tells Jeff to be in the lookout for them and proceeds to chug a full cup of punch. Grimaces once he's done, and Steve shoots Gareth a frown because - because they'd come up with a plan, sort of, and this party was mostly for Eddie even if Steve had graduated too but he hadn't planned on Eddie getting wasted.

"Don't see why you can't still go through with it," Gareth says under his breath while Jonathan and Eddie are getting high next to the pool, and Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to remind himself that Gareth, for all that he's the closest thing Steve has to a confidante outside of Eddie, has been on one date in his entire life.

"I'm not gonna tell him I'm in fucking love with him when he might be too drunk to goddamn remember it," he tells Gareth and Gareth's eyes go a bit wide because - whoops, Steve hasn't actually said that before.

"You -."

"New plan," Steve interrupts before Gareth can call him out on it. "I'm gonna drink the rest of that punch and forget we ever even made a plan."

Gareth recruits Jeff to talk him down from that.

---

Steve gets a card from his parents for graduation and a week later he gets a call from his father telling him it's time for him to man up and make his own way in the world.

At least, that's what Eddie had gleaned from the conversation they'd had on his front stoop two days before graduation.

He wakes up from a night of getting absolutely blitzed to his face plastered against one of the soft pillows from Steve's bed and spends a good thirty minutes staring at the plaid wallpaper before he finally manages to turn over to find the glass of water and the bottle of Tylenol on the bedside table. By the time he finally manages to make it down the stairs the rest of the overnighters were already stirring, and Steve is making waffles and talking to Nancy in a quiet voice.

"...didn't even get into Tech. He's just trying to prove a point, because he hates having a screwup for a son."

"Did you even apply to Tech?" Nancy asks, and Steve shoots her a look over his shoulder. The answer is no, and Eddie knows that because these are the kinds of conversations he has with Steve, the same soft voices and then same knowing looks and Eddie watches them for a moment with something burgeoning on understanding.

The moment is broken when Gareth rolls past Eddie into the kitchen and does a double take.

"Nice sweatshirt," he says, and he wiggles his eyebrows like that's supposed to mean something - but Eddie hadn't even realized he wasn't wearing the same thing he'd come in until Gareth pointed it out.

It's Steve's - and Eddie hadn't paid it much mind when he woke up because he'd woken up in Steve's fucking bed but it smells like him - some sort of sports related monstrosity with green and orange accents and when Jeff claps him on the back and says the same fucking thing Eddie watches Steve's face go pink.

He's annoyingly cute, and Eddie shoves that thought down because in a moment of weakness he'd allowed himself to compare his relationship with Steve to Nancy fucking Wheelers relationship with Steve and - and it's a fucking sweatshirt, and Eddie vaguely remembers spilling punch on his own shirt, and Steve bundling him up the stairs and tossing a change of clothes at him, remembers splaying himself out on Steve's bed once he'd changed, and then nothing. He'd had a fucking lot to drink.

Everyone trickles out after breakfast, Gareth the last to leave before Eddie, and Eddie watches the two of them have a whispered argument by the front door that ends in him gesturing in Eddies direction and then throwing up his hands before shoving past Steve out the door

He doesn't get what Gareth's problem with Steve is.

Steve is - Steve's great, actually, which is a problem for Eddie in particular but shouldn't be an issue for Gareth the same way, because Gareth is strictly a tits man. No, Gareth had had a bug up his ass about Steve Harrington since that first day and Eddie hates that he won't just give up whatever idea he's got in his head that Steve isn't a fucking dream.

He's bad at ignoring the crush, alright?

When Steve sidles back into the kitchen he's got a serious look on his face Eddie doesn't particularly like. And - he should probably go, too, like the rest of them, but he's still perched up on the counter, wearing Steve Harrington's clothes and drinking Steve Harrington's coffee and admiring Steve Harrington's stupid pretty face.

He's so fucked.

"What do you remember from last night?" Steve asks once he's got his own coffee cup back in his hand, and Eddie gives him a rundown of the first half without issue. It gets a little foggy after he'd downed a second cup of punch.

"Did I do something stupid?" He doesn't drink very often, is the thing - too many bad memories of the elder Munson getting shithoused - but he'd fucking graduated and flipped Higgins the bird with diploma in hand and he'd indulged, just the once.

Steve grimaces. "Not - stupid, no. Just. Before you fell asleep you uh..."

Eddie tries to pull up the memory, gets a throbbing pain in his temple for the trouble, and manages only a vague whisper of a memory - catching Steve's fingers in his own as Steve tucked a blanket over him.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee. Runs a hand through his hair - delightfully messy, which is the sort of thing Eddie should t let himself linger on too long because it's not like he's going to get to see him like this often, rumpled and sleepy even though he's been up for a while now.

"You. Said something "

Eddie says a lot of things, and mostly he says a lot of bullshit, but -

Steve's knuckles against Eddie's lips, minty fresh breath because Steve had told him he'd feel better in the morning if he brushed his teeth before he passed out, Steve standing over him and smiling as Eddie's eyes shuttered closed, a soft sigh escaping his lips as Steve's fingers drifted from his. "Love you," he'd muttered under his breath, when Steve's footsteps had retreated -

Fucking.

Drunk Eddie is a goddamn problem.

"What did I say?" Eddie asks, and he's thankful his voice doesn't waver because he's gotta play this off, some how, some way, because he's not ready to not have Steve in his life and -

"It - it doesn't." Steve sighs. "You really don't remember?"

And he sounds - upset, about it, like he'd expected they'd be able to talk about it later.

"Uh..."

Steve runs a hand over his face. Sighs. Turns his head up to stare at the ceiling and Eddie, like an idiot, stares at the long line of his neck and thinks about biting it.

"Screw it," Steve says, and before Eddie can so much as blink Steve's across the kitchen and crowding into Eddie's space. He's shorter, like this, with Eddie perched on the counter, has to tilt his head up to catch Eddie's gaze and he's - close. Closer than Eddie tends to let him be for extended periods of time. "I like you, Eddie."

"...but?"

Steve snorts, and his hand curls around Eddie's knee, which is - it's doing something to Eddie's head, and maybe he's still drunk from last night because everything feels a bit hazy. "No but, man. I - you -." He scrunches up his nose the same way Wheeler does, but Eddie doesn't find it half as endearing when Nancy does it. "You've had my name splashed across your back all morning and it's driving me crazy, man, I'm so into you it's not even funny."

Nice sweatshirt, both Jeff and Gareth had said, like they were all in on some sort of joke, and Steve had chosen this shit out of one of his drawers, and Steve hadn't seemed like he had much to drink at all last night, and Steve is -

"If this is a joke it's a fucked up one, Steve."

Steve curls a hand into Eddie's hair and kisses him.

---

Gareth doesn't comment on the sweatshirt when he strides into the Harrington garage two days later, but he takes one look at the purpling bruise on Steve's neck and spends a moment torn between wanting to high five the dude and bemoan how insufferable Eddie's going to be with a full ass boyfriend. He keeps his mouth shut instead.

Jeff doesn't have the same problem. "Nice hickey," he says, poking at it as Steve hands out drinks, and Steve goes red and ducks his head but later, in the quiet privacy of the closed garage he tugs at Eddie's belt loop and presses a kiss to his cheek in full view of the band. Eddie preens, so Gareth was 100% right about that.

On the plus side, Gareth thinks, even as Eddie tries to persuade them to warm up with a fucking love song, at least Eddie might have something to stick around in Hawkins for a little bit longer.

[lovexdeepspace]

All the Love and Deepspace boys react when you make a homemade scarf for them?

Thank you very much and hope all is well.

“made with love.”

summary; a gift is best when it comes from the heart.

warnings; none! enjoy the sweetness <3

note; aaaaa some fluff to break the angst cycle !! ty for the sweet request !!

( to be formatted in the future )

a box awaits each of the boys, wrapped neatly with a note attatched.

rafayel…

… immediately calls you, panicking that some crazed fangirl or someone he wronged in the past has found his address.

“what if it’s a bomb?” he shouts into the phone, peering through the crack in his front door at the box. “or worse! what if it’s some woman’s used underwear?!”

you fail to contain your laughter on the other end of the call, covering your mouth as you double over.

“how can you laugh in such dire times?” rafayel wails, clutching the phone to his ear. “this isn’t funny!”

after a moment you were finally able to compose yourself and say, “the box is from me, dumbass. i dropped it off on my way to work this morning. i tried to give it to you personally but someone wouldn’t answer the door.”

cue a sheepish chuckle from rafayel as he opens his front door and stoops down to open the gift then and there. he smiles to himself as he finds a blue hand knit scarf sitting in the box, his fingers running gently along the material.

“it’s so soft,” he says softly and you laugh again, amused by his genuine reaction. “i’m putting it on and never taking it off.”

“so dramatic,” you mumble, cradling the phone between your shoulder and ear as you pick up your book once more. the line went silent and you quirk a brow. “rafayel?”

your phone buzzes and you pull it away from your shoulder to find three image attachments sent your way with more piling in every second. each photo is one of rafayel in a different, exaggerated pose with the scarf wrapped around his neck. you laugh at his theatrics and save a couple to your camera roll before shooting him a quick text.

you look like a dork.

he answers immediately, as to be expected from your clingy artist:

i think i look amazing

xavier…

… opens the box as soon as he pulls it in his apartment without a single concern. if anyone could handle some danger, it’s him, so why worry?

the yellow scarf is soft in his lap as he reads the card you wrote for him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he sets the little card aside and wraps the scarf loosely around his shoulders before pushing himself off his couch, sending you a text that he’s coming over.

it doesn’t take long for him to arrive at your front door or for him to fish out the spare key you had given him, unlocking the door and pushing his way in. xavier shuffles into your apartment, leaving his shoes by the door as he calls out your name. he moves from the main room to your bedroom, finding you sprawled out on your bed. without a second thought he crawls into bed beside you, startling you awake.

“huh — wha? xavier?” you lay back down, groaning. “scared the shit outta me.”

xavier hums and pulls you into his embrace, your face burying in his chest. “i got your gift and needed to come say thank you.”

“you couldn’t have just texted me?” you ask sleepily, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “you’re welcome, by the way. tara taught me how to knit and she gave me some extra yarn. i thought the color would suit you.”

you pull back a little and eye the scarf around his neck before adding, “it does suit you.”

xavier nods in agreement, kissing your forehead. “you have a good eye.”

zayne…

… completely forgets about the gift. one day he comes into the office to find a box on his desk and makes a mental note to open it after his first patient.

then one patient becomes two back to back emergency surgeries and by the time that was all complete it was well into the night. finally having a second to himself, zayne plops down on his couch and leans his head back. his eyes finally close only to snap open again at a knock on his door.

“zayne, i brought you some dinner,” you say as you open the door to his office. he lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes once more as you shut the door behind you, setting the lunchbox on his desk. “oh! you still haven’t opened it?”

“opened what?” zayne asks, turning his head slightly to look at you. you pick up the gift on his desk and hold it out to him. “oh, that. i assume it’s from you, then?”

you nod excitedly and place the box on his lap. “go on, open it!”

“i’m sorry, today’s been a hectic day,” zayne apologizes as he carefully opens the box. the stress melts away as he looks into the box at a black hand-knit scarf with a small smile. “you made this?”

you take a seat next to him, reaching over and grabbing the scarf out of the box as he reads the card. “i did! and since you’re mr. jack frost over here, i think a scarf is the perfect accessory! do you like it?”

you wrap it haphazardly around his shoulders and zayne sets the card down on the coffee table before fixing it around his neck.

“out of all the gifts you’ve given me over the years, i think this one might just be my favorite,” he replies, placing a hand on your knee as he leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “thank you, sunshine.”

[oneforthemunny]

how you like them apples |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you surprise eddie with his favorite fall treat, and, oh, is he surprised.

since i'm feeling so fall, i decided to write a ficlet around my love cowboy!eddie. also follows the lore that sweet girl is not the best cook lmao. super fluffy. genuinely nothing but the sweetest fluff and love.

Your head turned at the rumble of the truck, moving slowly down the gravel driveway towards the house. Eddie always drove much slower than you, always on to you about speeding down the gravel, flinging it everywhere. 

The red truck’s bed was filled with lumber, left over from the recent renovations the Ives’ family had done to their new fence, just up the road- well, that’s what Eddie always said, it was more like a good ten miles away. Irvine Ives had called Eddie up last night, asked him if he wanted it before he took it to the junkyard. He knew Eddie was repairing a patch in the fence a Bronco he was training had kicked out. 

“Back so soon?” You grinned, pressing a hand over your brows to shield you from the September sun. Not as bright as it was in June, but still unforgiving in the middle of the day. 

“Yep, wasn’t much, but I think I got what I needed.” Eddie hummed, turning the key and killing the ignition, cigarette still lit between his fingers. “Think I got enough to patch it though. Just gonna need to repaint it since it’s not the same kinda wood.” 

Your brows raised, walking over towards the driver’s side, leaning in towards the window. “I can help you with that.” You hummed, breathing in the cloud of smoke he exhaled with a content sigh. “I love to paint.” 

Eddie grinned back at you, a soft crease in his dimples that made your body buzz with excitement. “Yeah? We can go to town tomorrow if I get this done. Pick out a color.” 

“That sounds like fun.” You beam. “I was going to say we need to go to the grocery anyways, so that works out.” You hum, a large brown bag catching your attention, nestled beside Eddie in the passenger seat. 

“What’s that?” You ask, leaning on the door to see. “Apples?” 

“Yeah, Mrs. Ives insisted I take a few. Said their trees were overflowin’ with ‘em.” Eddie nodded towards the bag, lightly tapping your hand to move, opening the truck’s door. “Figure I’d give a few to Medusa. Try to do something with the rest, maybe.” 

You nodded slowly, wheels in your mind already spinning with an idea. Eddie handed you the apples, cradling the bottom until you got your grip on the heavy bag. “‘M gonna go start on this. Try to get it done today.” 

“Ok,” You hummed, hugging the apples to your chest. “Have fun, baby.” 

Eddie snorted in laughter, head ducking down, stealing a quick kiss from you. “I shouldn’t be too long.” He looked back at you, eyes narrowing in suspicion as you simply nodded, pulling the screen door open and slipping in the kitchen. 

Normally, you’d offer to come help him, sit with him and talk about nothing in particular, and hand him the tools while he worked. Not this time. You didn’t seem mad, or upset- really, you seemed perfectly happy. Which left him a little suspicious. 

The clanging of a large, steel pot falling on the floor soothed his worries, left him grinning to himself in humor as he started off to the barn. 

“Sift? What does- like move it around?” You muttered, brows pinched in concentration that was teetering on annoyance. Your eyes squinted in concentration, trying to decipher the loopy, old school cursive on the faded, yellowed recipe card in front of you. 

The first time you found the recipe box, it was buried under piles of other things, lost in the mess that was Eddie’s bachelor pad before you moved in- really, before you were in his life. His Mamaw Munson’s recipes, all her best dishes, all in one tin box. He sat in the kitchen with you between his legs, he’d poured over each one, told you which ones were his favorite, sometimes even added a little anecdote that had you beaming with joy. 

“Oh, this one was one of my favorites, baby,” Eddie had said, eyes lighting as they scanned over the card. 

“Apple Cobbler. She’d bake it in this cast iron skillet so it’d stay hot, and we’d put vanilla ice cream over it- holy shit, it was so good.” Eddie swallowed his drool, he could practically taste it still. “She used to have an apple tree before it got blown away by this bad tornado one year. But she’d go and pick them every fall when they were ripe, and she’d always make it for us. It was my favorite thing.” 

Looking at the recipe in front of you, you could see why Eddie loved it so much. It did sound really good. 

It was just very complicated. 

“Take your peeled- shit,” You looked at the sliced apples, still with the skin on, in the bowl in front of you. “Why wouldn’t you say that before I added the other stuff, Mamaw?” You huffed, pulling the drawer open for the whittling knife. 

The kitchen was a disaster, sticky and flour filled, bowls piling high in the sink; and you hadn’t even gotten halfway through the recipe. Grabbing a handful of the butter and sugar rolled apples, you placed them on the counter’s free space, carefully carving around the edge where the skin was. 

This isn’t too bad, not taking as long as I thought it would, You thought to yourself, finally in a grove of cutting around the skin, tossing the apple back in the mixture. 

A smoky, sugary, thick smell alerted your senses on your last few apples. Turning, you saw the filling that was supposed to be simmering, now bubbling with thick, burnt globs in the pot. You grabbed the handle with a panic, shoving it to the free stove eye, turning the hot one off. 

The mixture, which was supposed to be a light caramel brown, was a deep dark molasses shade. You lifted the whisk, cringing at the toughness of the gooey substance. “It’s ok,” You shook your head lightly, looking at the clock. “That’s- whatever. It’ll bake and soften in the oven.” 

Pulling out the pan, you shoved the now skinless apples to the bottom, scraping the hardened filling mixture on top. The wooden spoon nearly broke trying to mix it in, sticking out of the cemented filling. 

You could see Eddie through the small window over the sink, down to the last stake in the fence, already beginning the wiring. He’d be done soon, this had to cook for forty-five minutes, and the kitchen was a disaster. 

“It’s fine, it’ll be fine.” You muttered to yourself, pouring the batter on top, not bothering to smooth it out like the instructions said- there was no time for that Mamaw. Instead, you slid it in the oven, turning the timer. 

Eddie came in just as you’d finished putting your last dish away. Your body surged with excited heat, smug that you might actually get away with your little surprise- well, as long as he didn’t go to the back porch, where the burnt filling was in the pan, cemented in. 

“Mm,” Eddie sniffed the air, sugary and a little… smoky? “Smells good in here, baby.” He gave you a dazzling smile, hoping you wouldn’t pick up the hesitancy in his tone. 

It was no secret that you weren’t exactly the best cook. Not that Eddie cared, but after you almost burnt the house down making lasagna, he was a little weary when you’d cook. 

“Does it?” Your eyes lit up, filled with excitement that he wouldn’t dare take from you. Whatever you’d made, no matter how charred or inedible it was, he’d scarf it down with a grin if it’d make you happy. Even if it gave him food poisoning like the chicken ala king did. 

“Yeah, what’re you makin’?” Eddie reached for the oven’s handle. 

You pushed it closed with a click of your tongue, smacking his hands away. “Don’t.” You shook your head. “It’s a surprise.” 

And you were true to your word. It certainly was a surprise. 

When you placed the concoction in front of Eddie, grinning so big, so proudly, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but grin back. “Wow, you, uh, you made this for me, sweetheart?” He smiled, eyeing the plate in front of him. 

“Yes,” You giggled, topping the runny dough on top with a scoop of ice cream. “You said it was your favorite, and when you brought the apples home, I just thought I’d surprise you.” You chirped, sliding him a spoon. “I followed your Mamaw’s recipe.”

“You spoil me, sweet thing. You know that?” Eddie smiled, heart swelling at the sentiment. You really did spoil him, were too good and too sweet to him- even if you’re cooking wasn’t as good. 

“Try it.” You sat next to him, bursting with excitement. “I know it won’t be as good as hers, but I think I did a good job on it.” 

Eddie looked down at the plate, swallowing the dread building in his throat. He dug his spoon, sawing it through the thick middle until it finally came out in a clean cut. Taking a large scoop of ice cream, hoping it would mask the flavor, he took a bite. 

“Is it good?” You leaned forward, eyes rounded in hopefulness, scanning his features eagerly. 

Eddie hummed, his teeth cemented together from the filling, sure his crown might pop out from the material. The filling was tough, the dough undercooked and lacked something that made it rise, but the apples were delicious- just like his Mamaw’s except…

“Oh,” Eddie winced before he could help it, finger digging in his mouth. He pulled out the hard thing that was wedged in his molar, turning it with a brow raised. “Is that- is that a seed?” 

Your face fell, looking at the seed back at Eddie. “Well, yeah, from the apples.” You said, heart skinning in your chest. “I didn’t- it didn’t say to take them out or anything, so I just left them in.”

Eddie swallowed, stomach turning lightly at the bite. “No, it’s- I mean, it’s good, baby. Some people take them out, but- no, this is, it’s really good.” He nodded, smiling at you gently. “‘S really good.” 

“Really?” You squeaked. “Better than the muffins?” 

“Yes,” Eddie said truthfully, whole heartedly. That was the truth, this was so much better than the mess that was the blueberry muffins. “So much better. This is really good, sweetheart. You really surprised me. Too sweet of ya to do this.” 

You squealed, hugging him tightly, legs straddling his waist in the chair, lips pressing kisses over his cheeks, his chin, his lips. Eddie’s arms wrapped around you, squeezing you into him, playfully nipping at your jaw to hear you squeal, before his lips caught yours, pulling you into a heated kiss. He’d eat all your burnt cobblers if it meant you’d be happy like this, if it made you this happy. 

[cher-rei]

Getting into a fight with Jamal where you’re mad at him and he try and make you laugh. It doesn’t work so he kisses you

the great pineapple debate– jamal musiala [ J.M]

I still love him, though [kill bill– sza]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: a silly argument about the wrong pizza order breaks out, but jamal is in the mood for some teasing

genre(s): tooth rotting fluff and a hatred for pineapple

[w.c: 1k] masterlist

notes: do you guys like pineapple on pizza? like this is a genuine question. I giggled like an idiot while writing this please I need him now.

"jamal musiala get your ass to the kitchen right now!"

jamal's heart dropped to the pits of hell. he leapt from the couch, dodged everything that was in his way until he made it to the kitchen out of breath and in utter fear. you stood at the counter with your hands on your hips and pursed lips.

oh, he fucked up.

he took a few wary steps towards you, a sheepish smile on his face. "was the government name really necessary?"

you didn't respond to his question and gestured to the pizza boxes that he didn't notice at first. his mind was racing with thoughts of his obituary instead but the sight of your supper made him blink in confusion.

"we agreed on pizza tonight," he said thinking that maybe you forgot but that wasn't the problem. the problem was the topping.

he watched as you opened both pizza boxes, and lo and behold the decorated pieces of yellow disgust. jamal's shoulders eased at the sight but you weren't happy about it all. he knew that you hated pineapple on your pizza, it was one of the first things you told him when you started dating.

but it was never an issue, because he made sure to never get the fruit close to your meal. he scratched the nape of his neck and tried to pull you towards him. "they must've gotten the order wrong. it's fine just take the pineapple off--"

"jamal, you cannot be serious right now." you pulled away from him with an exasperated groan. even though he didn't say anything, you knew that you were acting like a picky brat right now, but you couldn't help yourself.

in your entire lifetime there was only once instance where you tried pineapple on your pizza and of course it didn't end well. it came up almost immediately, but you luckily made it to the bathroom in time. the taste of the fruit was too much, and it overwhelmed your sense in the worst way possible.

needless to say, you were traumatised. and jamal knew that you weren't going to eat at all tonight if this was the case, but he couldn't help himself today and let his mouth run and now he had to pay the price.

"pineapple on pizza is just... wrong!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. "I can't believe you like it, it tastes so ugh."

you were upset, but jamal couldn't fight back his grin. he found that you looked absolutely adorable like this, complaining about the combination to the point where you were going red in the face.

he grinned, unable to resist teasing you further. "baby, you're just not cultured enough to appreciate the combination, okay? and that's fine."

not cultured enough?? oh he was for sure sleeping outside tonight.

before you blew up any further you took a deep breath to calm yourself in case you did something rash. you narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend, clearly not amused. "this isn't about culture, it's about taste. and pineapple on pizza is just– no."

jamal knew that he was treading on thin ice, but he couldn't help himself. he grabbed the nearest object— a banana from the fruit bowl— and held it like a microphone. "ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the great pineapple debate of 2024!"

you watched in slight concern as your boyfriend commentated, trying to lighten the mood. he was smiling from ear to ear, finding the situation absolutely hilarious but you weren't convinced.

"in this corner, we have pineapple lover--" he stopped for a moment and winked at you. "--who he undoubtedly loves his girlfriend more– jamal! and in this corner, the anti‐pineapple crusader, the love of jamal's life!"

he tapped the bottom of your chin, causing you to roll your eyes while you tried your best to suppress your smile. "j, stop being silly."

"but wait, there's more!" jamal said and spun the banana like a baton. "stay tuned for an exclusive interview with the champion of the 'anti-pineapple' camp. will she change her mind?" he walked up from behind you and ticked your sides, getting just what he wanted and appreciating the sound of your laugh. "spoiler: highly unlikely."

you couldn't help but laugh at his little performance and shook your head at his antics. "you're ridiculous, you know that?"

jamal grinned, loving the sound of her laughter that made his heart flutter. "ridiculously in love with pineapple on pizza, maybe?"

you rolled your eyes again, his undeniable charm making it difficult for you to stay mad at him. the smile on your face was genuine, along with the twinkle as you looked up at your boyfriend. "and maybe me?"

"especially you," jamal said and leant in closer.

your laughter subsided, and you looked into his brown eyes, the argument long forgotten because your knees were about to give in. "you know, it's funny how we can argue about the stupidest things."

jamal hummed in agreement, his hands finding your waist to rub small but comforting circles. "because we care so much about each other that stupid things don't matter."

before you could respond, he leant in and kissed you, catching you off guard with the sudden sweeteners of the gesture. you melted at his touch, nothing else rendering besides the warmth and tenderness of his lips on yours that any form of previous annoyance melted away as well.

when you finally pulled away, jamal looked into your eyes, his own full of affection. "I love you. whether you hate pineapple or not."

you smiled, a feeling of warmth spreading through your chest. "I love you too, even if you're wrong."

jamal couldn't help but laugh and pulled you into a tight but comforting hug. "as long as we have each other, then stupid things don't matter."

your nose scrunched teasingly and placed a delicate kiss to his neck which tickeled him a bit but you knew that he loved it. "you're right. you're the only stupid thing that matters to me."

jamal bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something. instead he forced a laugh and tightened his grip on you, enough that you were fighting to be let go of. "you're so lucky I love you."

[palioom]

santa claus is comin' (to town)

summary: the children of Jackson aren't the only ones excited about Santa visiting.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; santa kink; unprotected p in v; creampie, lap sex

a/n: banners by @/saradika-graphics

follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

Christmas in Jackson was a cheerful time. Allowing its residents some rest and peace in between the daily reminders of survival in a world overgrown by fungus.

There was a tree – a beautiful, tall fir – which they had felled in the surrounding woods and placed in the small town square, lit up with bright, colourful lights and hundreds of handmade decorations from the residents. Mostly made by children, as they learned to work with wood, just small figures like hearts and stars.

The houses and shops were decorated with just as much colour, lighting up everything around them.

And, Jackson even had its very own Santa.

Clad in all red, slightly yellowed fur trims on the sleeves of the shirt, the brim of the hat and on the hems of the pants. A nice, gray beard, and even a hint of Santa’s iconic, large belly.

Joel hadn’t really wanted to do it at first, eyeing the costume they had found on one of their runs with slight concern before he eventually relented. But only after Tommy had nagged at him a bit and Joel’s girl had sweet talked him into it.

The kids went wild for him, screaming and laughing when he walked down the streets, waving at them and laughing back. That really was when he had started to like it, seeing their eyes shine, prodding at the heavy sack slung over his shoulder – as well as his tummy.

To be honest, he had missed this a little, and it reminded him of how much Sarah loved to go down to the mall to tell Santa her Christmas wishes. Back when she was younger. He could still see her perched on Santa’s knee, the widest smile on her face as someone took their photo.

Now, it was him who had the kids whispering their wishes into his ear, just to squeal in delight when he pulled the requested toy or book from the brown sack next to him. A genuine smile on his face when one kid hopped off so the next could hop on.

It made her happy, too. Seeing the old man happy and laughing like this after he had grumbled about not really wanting to do it. 

And to be honest, he looked good like this. It had been a fight to keep her hands off of him when he first tried on the costume. The longer beard he had grown out just for this suited him well, too, her mind wandering to how it would feel on the inside of her thighs. 

And that belly.

She had teased him about it, asked if he had grown it just for this as well, something he answered with a grumpy look, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly.

But she loved it, loved him a little bigger and so soft and warm.

All in all, Joel was just unbelievably hot. Even when dressed as Santa.

Especially when dressed as Santa.

So when she had to leave the event early to get dinner going while he stayed behind, she really couldn’t stop thinking about him. About him and that stupid but hot costume, wanting to sit on his lap and having him give her a very special gift as well.

One that only he could give her.

So when he finally came home over an hour later, she quickly made her way out of the kitchen and to the front door, catching him as he wanted to take off his hat. 

“Leave it on.” She mumbled against his lips as her arms wrapped around his neck. His beard scratched against her skin and she could feel his arms encircle her waist. “There’s someone else who wants to sit on Santa’s lap.”

The low hum he let out quickly turned into a groan, his broad hands squeezing at her sides and hungrily kissing her back. He still found her love for this costume ridiculous, but Joel couldn’t deny that this whole thing was really hot.

“Wanna lay over Santa’s knee instead?” Joel asked, pushing her back into the living room, towards his favourite armchair.

She laughed, shaking her head when she parted from him for a moment.

“Mhmmm, no. I want to tell Santa my wish, too.”

His eyebrows shot up, a wide grin on his face that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Now that certainly was something.

Sitting down on the chair, he pulled her down onto his leg by her waist, spreading his legs wide. His cock was already pressing uncomfortably against the fabric of these stupid pants, excited about what she wanted to do.

Right back in his role, his gloved hands dipping beneath the hem of her turtleneck and grabbing her waist. All while she looked at him as innocently as she could, biting her bottom lip.

“Now, tell Santa,” Joel said, his voice dropping a few octaves, “have you been a good girl this year?”

She giggled, nodding her head. Oh, this was already better than what she could have imagined.

“Of course, Santa.” Her voice was sugary sweet when she replied. “I’m always a good girl.”

Joel chuckled, his grip tightening on her waist. His head flooded with images of her being anything but a good girl.

How dare she lie to Santa himself?

“Well, somebody told me that that’s a lie, angel.” He replied, his hands skirting higher over her sides, feeling the warmth of her through the gloves. “You’ve been a naughty girl, and naughty girls don’t get presents from Santa.”

Blood was already rushing in her ears, her eyes dropping down to the tent in his pants. She rubbed her thighs together, needing any kind of friction on her throbbing clit. 

One of Joel’s large hands came out from beneath her top and smoothed over her thigh instead, dipping towards the inside before getting dangerously close to where she needed him the most. Hearing her breath hitch at the touch.

“But Santa, please.” She whined, putting on her best puppy eyes in an attempt to sway and convince him that she indee did deserve a present.

“Naughty girls get a very special something from Santa instead.” He whispered, his fingers finally pressing against her clothed pussy, making her moan. “‘Specially ones as naughty as you have been.”

Just rubbing back and forth, unable to feel if he found her clit through the thick gloves, but he was quite sure that he did with how she reacted to it. 

“Do you want to know what that is?” He asked, growing impatient with how she whined and ground back into his fingers.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. She desperately needed to know and she hoped they both were on the same page here.

“Yes, Santa. Please.” 

A small growl escaped Joel when he made her stand up, with her back to him, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of the sweatpants she wore before pulling them down. Exposing her ass clad in a lacy thong to him.

When he pulled her back into his lap, his dick ground against her ass, her legs spreading over his own. Joel held her by the hips, his own rutting up into her and making him moan, too.

There was no way he could handle this for long, lifting his hips to shimmy down his pants so his cock was free, hard and rubbing through the wetness that seeped through her underwear. Sliding it back and forth, hearing her soft moans whenever he nudged against her clit through the lace.

“You like what Santa got you?”

She hummed with a frenzied nod, her body so hot compared to the icy coldness outside. Her eyes were glued to his cock, watching the head become shinier with every rock of his hips - fat and angry and just waiting to be swallowed up by her greedy pussy.

“I love it, Santa, oh-” Biting her lip, she watched Joel take off his dark gloves, revealing his tanned, broad hands, the veins on the backs of them protruding. They moved to her panties, his fingers hooking into the lace and pulling them to the side.

Allowing his cock to slide against her bare pussy without any barriers.

This was an even better image, the head vanishing and coming back into view, nudging against her clit and making her squirm in his lap.

“All special, only for the naughtiest girls.” Joel chuckled, his breath hitching in his throat. She felt so nice and wet and he wasn’t even inside of that dripping pussy yet. He could come just like this, sliding through her folds, the image of it so lewd. 

But the way she stared at it was almost lewder – wide, dark eyes, looking like she was about to jump off his lap and drop to her knees instead. He swore he could see a trickle of drool on one corner of those pretty lips, glistening in the light.

She couldn’t wait to have it inside of her, to feel the thick length of him spread her pussy open. As much as she liked the view of him like this, she reached for his cock with one hand, raising her hips as much as she could. Prodding against her entrance but not pushing in, she just felt the thick head resting there.

Joel’s chuckle vibrated against her back before she could hear it fall from his mouth, almost sounding like Santa himself – causing a new gush of wetness to release on him.

Fucking Santa on his lap hadn’t been something she thought to turn her on.

“You really are a naughty girl.” He said, close to her ear and shifting his hips. Just lightly feeding her the swollen tip, relishing in the sweet mewls she let out. “Looks like Santa has to punish you, hm?”

She barely listened, so focused on the feeling of him splitting her open as she slowly sank down on his hard cock. Feeling inch by inch enter her, until she was back in his lap again, one of his broad hands holding her hip while the other went to find her nipple beneath her shirt.

“So big, so big, fuck-” Her voice was small, her eyes still focused on where his cock was vanishing inside of her. Feeling impatient as he just kept her there and whining when he pinched her nipple. “Santa, please.”

His hips rocked up into her at the name. It was lewd, naughty, to have her call him Santa. But Joel couldn’t deny that it was fucking hot, too.

“You like Santa’s very special gift for naughty girls?” He asked, thrusting up into her again, his hand on her hip aiding her as she carefully began to move in his lap. Still teasing her nipple, pinching and twisting the little nub in between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Mhmm, yes, I love Santa’s gift.” She moaned, feeling the unbearable need to strip out of her clothes entirely, feeling the heat of his body against hers while her veins were on fire. “‘M gonna be a naughty girl every year, Santa.”

Joel chuckled, the sound strangled by the moan that creeped up his throat when her pussy gripped him tight. Obviously she was enjoying this whole game as much as he did, if not more.

Slowly he rocked up into her faster, watching her face contort in pleasure. But she never took her eyes off of his cock, watching her juices run down the length, frothing with each thrust.

“You already are the naughtiest.” Joel rasped, feeling his balls twitch as her pussy contracted around his cock again. Her moans and mewls became higher in pitch and she seemed to have trouble keeping up the rhythm she had set to match his. “Bouncing on Santa’s lap, creamin’ all over him.”

He accentuated his words with another pinch of her nipple, her back arching deliciously into his touch.

But soon he took away his hand from her breasts to rest on her other hip, helping to lift and slam her down onto his cock over and over as her movements became more erratic.

“Santa has even more gifts for you.” He teased, dancing dangerously close on the edge of his orgasm.

“Yes, yes yes.” She breathed out, whining. The slap of skin on skin echoed through the room, only spurring her on more as she watched him bury himself inside of her aching pussy again and again. “Please, Santa- Give it to me, give it all to me!”

Joel chuckled, his mouth attaching to the skin below her ear and biting down. His hands pushed her down hard just as his hips rocked up – pushing her over the edge she had been dancing on as well. 

“Santa- Fuck!”

She gripped him like a vice, her hands finding his as her orgasm seared through her and Joel fucked her through it, his voice becoming darker.

“Like that, like that-” He mumbled, needing just a few more thrusts with how madly she was still pulsing around him. “Fucking naughty girl, strangling Santa’s cock- Oh, shit-”

Joel kept thrusting up as he spilled himself inside of her greedy pussy, filling her up as she writhed in his grip, her hips still erratic on top of him.

He couldn’t stop his cock from slipping out, a noise of protest leaving her which was quickly replaced with a moan as she watched the last few ropes of cum splash over her mound and the bottom of her shirt, the white in stark contrast to the dark fabric.

The view of his still swollen head gliding through her cum-covered pussy sent shivers through her as she came down from her high, hearing Joel’s heavy pants in her ear.

“Ain’t that better than coals in your stocking, darlin’?” He asked in between breaths, chuckling slightly. Watching the mess in between her legs, he couldn’t stop the small groan that creeped up his throat. “Gonna behave for next year?”

She giggled, finally tearing her gaze away from where his cock still rested in between her pussy lips to look at him instead. 

“Mhm, I don’t know.” She said, a grin spreading on her face. This whole thing was exactly what she’d needed, and she would fight for him to keep that stupid costume. And for him to put it on again. “Is my present gonna be better than this?”

His warm hands smoothed over her thighs, the fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt as he moved up. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and he knew this wouldn’t be the only time this happened. 

“We’ll see.” Joel said before leaning in and kissing her, hearing the soft hum vibrating in her chest. “But before next year… Maybe I have just a little something left in my sack for you.”

A laugh broke out of her, feeling herself clench around nothing as she thought of what else his sack contained for her. 

And she would enjoy every second of it.

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 3. Vroom Vroom

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "I want that Model X. Blacked out. The one that drives itself." He nods approvingly, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction. "Done. Anything else?" You can't help but scoff at the audacity. "Just like that?" "Just like that." "Come on, Joel. You don't just surprise employees with new cars out of the blue." "Well, lucky for you, you're not just any employee."

Chapter Warnings & Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Daddy Kink, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Praise kink, Overstimulation, Squirting, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, DD/lg (kinda? they're both into it), Vaginal Fingering, Exhibitionism, No PIV (yet), Virgin Reader

Word Count: 6K

A/N & Chapter Notes: Two birthdays, ten years apart.

This is filthy, and I have no regrets.

Hope you enjoy!

Ten Years Earlier.

Joel lingers outside your house, the lively sounds of your 26th birthday party spilling into the night air through open windows. He adjusts the collar of his chambray button-down, opting for a change from his usual flannel attire. With his hair slicked back and facial hair neatly trimmed, he sighs, contemplating the small bouquet of sunflowers he acquired from a nearby florist.

His mind goes to the conversation he had with the florist earlier.

"Sunflowers? That's an interesting choice." The florist smiles, gently taking the flowers from his hand. "Did you need this wrapped? Maybe a bit of ribbon?"

Joel nods. "Please. It's for—"

The florist glances at him, a twinkle in her eyes as she observes his nervous demeanor. "Did you know that the sunflower symbolizes adoration? It's the perfect flower to give to someone you're interested in."

"Oh, it's nothing like that, It's for a... a friend. It's her birthday today."

The florist gives Joel a wry look. "If she's just a friend, might I suggest daisies? Surely they would be more appropriate and cheaper—"

Joel shakes his head. "The sunflowers," he motions to her hand. "Please."

He smiles at the memory, looking at the bouquet once more, knowing he made the right choice.  

He spots you through the window, the vibrant yellow of your sundress gracefully accentuating your curves, creating an ethereal silhouette that seems to glow, like a beacon of light calling out to him. His breath catches in his throat as he watches you. A genuine laugh escapes you, a sound that always catches him off guard, echoing through the air with a light that he finds irresistible.

"Joel," your father approaches, his expression clearly showing his displeasure. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello Sir, Well, I'm here for a birthday party, and-" he lifts the invitation, "I believe I was invited."

"I can see that, but the question is why. Surely, a man of your age at a party filled with twenty-year-olds? Doesn't that seem... odd to you?"

"It's only odd if you make it odd, I reckon."

"Can I ask you a serious question? What are your intentions with my daughter?"

"Well, I would like to wish her a Happy Birthday, maybe eat a little cake-"

"... and how old are you, Joel? aren't you a bit bothered by the fact that your daughter is older than mine?"

"... well, she's not, sir." Joel smiles, "She's older than Sarah."

Unamused, your father continues. "I'm going to level with you. I'm not about to let my daughter be swept away by some middle-aged man barely scraping by." He shoots Joel a stern look, shaking his head in disapproval. "My daughter deserves the world, and quite frankly, I won't have her settle for someone beneath her. Not for some small-time contractor."

"Sir, that's not my intention at all. Sugar invited me, and-"

He shakes his head in disgust. "I think you should go, Joel. Take your flowers and go. You're lucky I let you still have this job."

Joel nods in defeat, his gaze lingering on you through the window. He takes a final appreciative look at you, radiant in your yellow dress, and offers a warm smile. Turning towards your father, he speaks with sincerity, "I apologize for any disturbance, sir." Joel strides purposefully towards his truck, adding, "Please convey my regrets to your wife."

Present day.

Joel: Hey Sugar, did you head out to the office yet? Sugar: Hi Mr. Miller, Good Morning! No, I haven't. Still getting ready. Should be heading out in 15.   Did you need something? Did you get locked out of the company portal again? I told you that we change passwords every six months, I wrote it on a sticky note for you like you asked! Joel: No, Sugar, I haven't. It concerns me how little faith you have in me. I am not that hopeless! For your information, I am not in the office yet. Sugar: Oh? So it wasn't you and Ellie trying to figure out how you managed to print the printer manual ten times over last week? Joel: I'm sure that was Tommy, but it's ok, I forgive you. Anyway, does this mean you're still at home? Sugar: Sure, Joel. Ellie would say otherwise. Yes?? Joel: ??? Not sure if you're at home? Sugar:  No. Yes. I'm at home. Joel: Good.   I'm outside.

"Joel," you say, locking your front door, looking surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm kidnapping you for the day," Joel announces from his truck. "Thought I'd give you a ride to work." He winks as he exits out of the cab, wearing a chambray shirt and jeans instead of his usual work-issued flannel. It's a nice change, being that you didn't think the man owned anything other than flannels. "Come on, I've got coffee and donuts."

You give him a wry smile. "What if I'm not a coffee person?"

Joel presents a coffee to-go cup, a tea bag tag hanging out. "Lucky for you, I've got your favorite green tea."

"Smooth move, Miller," you grin, approaching him and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Very smooth."

"What can I say? I have excellent attention to detail, especially when it comes to you."

"Just not with computers, right?"

"Alright, alright, none of your teasing this morning, why don't you hop in," Joel grins, holding the passenger door open for you. You slide into the truck, still puzzled by his unexpected visit.

As he drives away, the scenery doesn't match the route to the office. You raise an eyebrow, looking at Joel with a playful smirk. "This doesn't look like the way to work. Where are we going?"

"Well, if I told you, then it would ruin the surprise, now would it?"

You snort. "What's happening today that's so important it warrants a surprise?"

Joel glances at you, a wide smile on his face. "A little birdy told me that it's someone's birthday today."

"Yeah and? It doesn't mean that we blow work off, I actually have a scheduled meeting with Tess today-"

"Fuck Tess."

You frown. "Joel, be serious."

"I am serious. I handled Tess. She's fine, don't you worry your pretty little head off, she's ok with pushing back to tomorrow."

You look at him warily, sighing. "I got a bad feeling about this."

Joel reaches over and kisses your forehead. "Don't frown, baby. None of that nonsense is allowed when we're together, okay? Just let me do something nice for you on your birthday. Nothing too crazy, promise."

"Why do I have the feeling that you don't mean that?"

Joel drives into the mall's parking lot, heading towards Neiman Marcus, driving into the nearest parking stall to its entrance. 

He cuts the ignition to the truck. "OK, I don't promise. I intend on dragging you into the store whether you like it or not, sliding my shiny Amex to the first salesperson I see, and spoiling the absolute shit outta you. Do you have a problem with that, baby?"

"What if I allow you to spoil me from the comfort of the clearance rack?"

"Sorry to break it to you, baby, but this Amex won't work on anything discounted. Do you know what it means to have a black one of these?"

"That you have a big cock and an even bigger ego?"

"Funny. What it really means is that I can walk into one of them Tesla dealerships and buy you a Model X before you can ask me if I'm being serious." He takes your hand in his. "Because I am. Serious, that is."

You scoff, sinking further into your seat. "You're not going to buy me a Tesla."

He laughs. "Maybe, maybe not. I do know you need a new car, and I know one thing for sure—" He gives you a wry smile as he lifts your chin to face him. "There's no way in hell I'm going to let you drive that damn death trap anymore, Sugar."

"Hey! I'll have you know, I've had that death trap since college, it's the first thing I bought without my father's money!" you huff, "Now that I'm not in the ninth layer of Hell at Best Buy anymore, I can finally afford to buy myself a car. You know, something sensible, like a Kia."

"A Kia? Baby... only more reason for me to buy you a new car. Tell me, if you could have any car, money, and cost be dammed, what would it be? Sky's the limit."

"Seriously?"

He leans in, eyes challenging. "Try me."

"I want that Model X. Blacked out. The one that drives itself."

He nods approvingly, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction. "Done. Anything else?"

You can't help but scoff at the audacity. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Come on, Joel. You don't just surprise employees with new cars out of the blue."

"Well, lucky for you, you're not just any employee."

A smile tugs at your lips, appreciating the unexpected attention. "Really?" you playfully inquire. "So, I'm more than just a random employee, huh?"

Joel gently caresses your chin, offering a small, satisfied smirk.

"No, Sugar, you're not just some random employee," he declares, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're everything."

"You don't mean that—" you stutter, "Joel, what's going on? Why are you doing this? I'm not someone to be bought or bribed like I'm some sugar baby. I liked you back then, before all of this—"

"When I had nothing? When my company was still in the red, when your father's job was the only one turning a profit," he peers down at you. "What if I told you that I wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for you? If your father didn't talk some sense into me all those years ago, I wouldn't have worked my ass off to get where I am now."

Your eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"

Joel lets out a heavy sigh, his gaze intense. "Your father made it clear back then that I wasn't good enough for you. He didn't think I was the right fit for you. He did me a favor if I think about it now. It was your father's skepticism that fueled my determination to prove him wrong, to build something from the ground up."

Your mind races, trying to grasp the weight of his revelation. "But why keep it a secret? Why now? You didn't give me any signs that you were interested in me, I even invited you to my birthday party, which you didn't even bother showing up to!"

Joel winces. "Yeah, about that-"

Your face softens. "Wait, Joel, the sunflowers?"

"Your father made sure to point out the inappropriateness of a middle-aged man attending a party full of co-eds. Thinking about it, it wouldn't have been a good look, especially since I couldn't take my eyes off of you, wearing that yellow dress… I was enchanted by you, baby girl."

You blush, smacking his shoulder. "Oh, that dress was horrendous. My mom made me wear it!"

"Well, remind me to thank your mom for giving me the mental image I've had of you all these years."

"You know, that explains why the sunflowers were in the trash can, I thought it was so odd! They were beautiful, by the way. I snuck them out and kept them in my room, you know." You shake your head. "I can't believe my dad would do something like this. I hate that I stuck around for so long. I wish I knew, Joel. Back then. You were the only person I looked forward to coming that night, and when you didn't, I thought-"

"Well, I was there, baby."

"… but you didn't stay! How was I supposed to know?!"

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I didn't want you to feel like you were settling or that my feelings were tied to any of this. I needed to prove myself first. I didn't want you to think I was using you or that I wasn't good enough for you."

A mix of emotions swirls within you—surprise, confusion, and a hint of realization. "Joel, I had no idea. But why go to such lengths now? Buying me a car, showering me with gifts?"

He looks into your eyes, his expression sincere. "Because, despite everything, my feelings for you have always been genuine. I wanted you to see that I can give you the life you deserve and that I've overcome the doubts from back then. I had nothing to give to you back then, hell, I was being eaten alive by debt, I couldn't put Sarah through college - she worked her ass off trying to get as many scholarships as she could on her own. I wasn't in a position to make you mine, not yet."

"Joel," you say, taking his face in your hands, a sad smile on your face. "Do you think I care about all of this? I would have been with you then, all you had to do was ask."

"Well, I'm asking you now. Will you let me make up for missing your birthday all those years ago up to you?"

You give him a small smile. "Okay."

Joel breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay. Now, get out of the truck and into the store. That's an order."

You share a playful eye roll before complying, opening the truck door, and stepping into the crisp air outside. The familiar chime of the entrance doors signals your arrival at Neiman Marcus.

Joel walks beside you, his arm casually draped around your shoulders as you both make your way into the store. The ambiance of luxury surrounds you, and the scent of high-end perfumes lingers in the air. You can't help but marvel at the elegant displays showcasing the latest in fashion and accessories, the air smelling distinctively expensive and high class, something you would never associate yourself with.  

"So, what's the plan?" you ask, hesitation evident in your voice.

Joel grins, steering you towards the women's clothing section. "I'm looking for just the right-" he stops midsentence, his eyes locking onto the stylishly dressed woman lying in wait for her next victim.  

"Lenore!" he shouts, "Just the person I was hoping to find."

"Mr. Miller! What a delightful surprise," the saleswoman exclaims, her face lighting up. "What brings you here? how are your girls?"

"They're doing fine, thank you for asking."

"... and who is this pretty baby peeking out from behind you?" she asks, casting a warm smile your way. You instinctively recoil at the unexpected attention, a familiar sensation from the years spent trailing your mother at Neiman’s, deliberately making yourself inconspicuous to deter any unwanted conversations. It felt safer that way, you reflect, offering Lenore a slight smile. "There's our lovely girl. No need to hide behind this old dog; you're far more interesting to look at than he is!"

"Lenore, allow me to introduce you to someone very special—this is Sugar," Joel says with a proud smile, gesturing towards you.

"Sugar, what a sweet name! Pleasure to meet you," Lenore responds, extending a hand in a friendly gesture.

The tension from earlier begins to dissipate as you shake Lenore's hand and manage a genuine smile. "Nice to meet you too, Lenore."

"Sugar, why don't you take a look at the clothes over there and let me talk business with Lenore for a second?" You raise your eyebrows in suspicion, "Maybe you'll see something you like?"

Joel, his eyes gleaming with excitement, leans in and whispers, "Lenore, today is no ordinary day. It's Sugar's birthday, and I'm in the mood to make it special for her. We're going to be spending an obscene amount of money today, so I hope you're ready. You got your work cut out for you, I promise you that."

"Nothing can be as worse than the time I tried to convince Ellie to wear a gown for the prom last year," she winces, "Sorry about that again, Mr. Miller." She slides up beside Joel, flashing him a knowing smirk. "How obscene are we talking?"

Joel hands over his sleek black Amex, and Lenore's eyes widen in surprise. "Obscene. Don't let her talk you out of something because of the price, hell, rip off the damn tags if you have to." He steals a quick glance back at you, a vision standing amongst the designer goods, a subtle smile on his face. He glances at Lenore once more. "Do we have an understanding?"

The saleswoman nods her head frantically, pocketing the Amex in her pocket, the weight of it making an indentation through her blazer. "Understood, Mr. Miller. I'll fetch you a coffee and set up a seat for you in her dressing room. Is there anything else?

Joel nods. "Yeah. Do your worst, Lenore."

Lenore gives Joel one last look as she heads towards you, not hiding the fact that you look like a deer caught in the headlights. She places a hand on the small of your back. "Come along dear, we're on a mission." She gives you a conspiratorial smile. "You're in desperate need of Celine."

Lenore scrutinizes you for a moment, gently lifting your arms to assess your form. "I take it you're a size 10?"

Surprised, you ask, "How did you know?"

"Honey, I've been here for the last twenty years. Not only can I tell your dress and bra size, but I've also mastered the subtle art of reading people." She confidently places her hands on your hips, nodding to herself. "People are not as secretive as they think. I can dissect their entire life story the moment they walk in the door."

Curious, you inquire, "Oh? And what conclusion did you make about me?"

Lenore begins rifling through the racks, selecting a few monochromatic pieces. "Well, you seem to go through life trying to hide yourself."

"Is it that obvious?" you ask with a hint of self-awareness.

Lenore continues her assessment, her experienced eyes scanning the clothing options she's pulled out. "You go through life trying to hide yourself," she repeats, her tone thoughtful. "But, sweetheart, hiding doesn't mean you're weak or scared. It means you've faced challenges, learned to protect yourself."

She steps back, considering you with a knowing gaze. "We all wear different masks, dear. It's just a matter of finding the one that feels right for the occasion. Now, tell me, what's the story behind the layers you've wrapped yourself in?"

"Well..." you bite your lip thoughtfully, "Today is my 36th birthday. My mom, she had me when she was 26. By the time she was my age, she had her whole life figured out - the husband, the kid, the house. I remember thinking how much I wanted that for myself, how I thought my life would go... and now, at 36," you pause, sighing, "I don't have any of that. I'm not married, I don't have any kids, and I rent an absurdly overpriced shoebox that I share with my cat," you softly chuckle to yourself.

"It's not like I haven't tried to put myself out there. I have—met a few people, went on a couple of dates, which—I felt like wasn't terrible, you know?" You admire a sheath dress on the rack, adding it to the growing pile of pieces Lenore has accumulated. "...but it was always just a first date, and then rejection, maybe if they were kind, but most of the time I never hear from them again. After a while, after I hit 30, I just... stopped. I stopped trying to put myself out there. It's exhausting, and I can't keep wondering what makes me so undesirable."

"Sometimes... Sometimes I feel like I'm defective, too broken for anyone, not good enough to have the kind of life I want."

"Sweetheart, life rarely follows the script we write for it. Comparing your journey to your mother's or anyone else's is like comparing apples to oranges. Each story is unique, and yours is still unfolding," she reassures you.

She continues sorting through the clothes, selecting pieces that seem to resonate with your style. "Now, about those layers you wear," she begins, her focus returning to the task at hand. "Perhaps it's time to shed the expectations and judgments, not just from others but also from yourself. These layers, they're not defects; they're experiences that have shaped you."

Lenore hands you a beautifully tailored blazer and nods approvingly. "Try this on. Let's see how it feels."

As you slip into the blazer, Lenore continues, "You deserve a life that brings you joy, and that starts with accepting yourself. When you embrace who you are, others will too. It's not about being 'good enough'; it's about being authentically you."

Lenore, her hands expertly moving through the racks, pauses for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "And what about Mr. Miller?" she asks with a knowing smile. "There's a story there too, isn't it?"

You glance at her, surprised by her perceptiveness. "Joel? Well, we've known each other for ten years, but we've only worked together for six months. There's nothing more to it than that."

Lenore raises an eyebrow. "Sweetheart, I've been around enough to recognize when there's something more. The way he looks at you, the way he cares—it goes beyond the confines of a professional relationship."

You hesitate, unsure of how to respond. Lenore gently continues, "I've seen people in love, and I've seen people trying to hide it. Joel's got a soft spot for you, dear. It's written all over him."

"Is it? because with my track record, all it feels like is me waiting for the other shoe to drop. I like him... I've liked him", you correct yourself, "...for a very long time. I tried to put myself out there to him back then, only for him to reject me. What makes me different now? What didn't I have then?"

Lenore listens attentively, her gaze filled with compassion. "Sweetheart, people change, circumstances change. What may not have worked before doesn't define your worth or potential now. Maybe back then, Joel wasn't ready or didn't see what was right in front of him. It doesn't mean you lacked anything—it just wasn't the right time."

She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Love can be messy, complicated, and unpredictable. But if you feel something for Joel, and there's a chance he feels the same now, it's worth exploring. Give yourself permission to embrace the present without being burdened by the past." She gives you one last smile, her tiny frame effortlessly handling the mountain of clothes with an ease that comes with her years of experience. "Come on, we can't leave Mr. Miller waiting. He's already waiting for you in your dressing room."

Joel is already seated in the room one would call a dressing room, a vast space encapsulated by mirrors. Lenore places the clothes on the rack, giving the two of you one last-knowing nod as she makes her way to the door. "I'll give you guys some privacy," she winks, her hands on the doorknob. "You just holler if you need anything, okay?" You smile meekly at her as Joel nods. "Thank you, Lenore."

"Well', you breathe, making your way to the center of the room, taking it all in. "This is... something."

"It is, right? Perfect amount of mirrors to admire your form."

"It's just... a lot, Joel. I'm not used to seeing myself like this."

"Like what, baby?" He asks, making his way over to you as you fiddle nervously in place. Tenderly, he envelops you in his arms, hands brushing away stray strands of hair behind your ears. "Turn around and face the mirror," he softly directs, gently guiding you by the hips. You find yourself in front of the mirror, Joel standing behind you, his eyes locking with yours as his hands trace down your silhouette, fingers deftly navigating the buttons of your blouse.

"Let me paint a picture for you," Joel whispers in your ear, his eyes locked with yours through the mirror as he delicately starts to unbutton. "I see someone who drives me fucking crazy." Pausing at the last button, he eases your top from the waistband of your skirt, peeling the fabric from your skin to unveil the modest cotton bralette you chose for the day. "Beautiful," he breathes, slipping your top from your shoulders. A shiver runs through you as his hands graze your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"You think you can hide yourself behind all of these clothes but I see you, Sugar. I've seen what's inside, and I would like to get to know that girl that's begging to come out of that shell of yours." His fingers linger on the elastic at your waist, his eyes silently asking for consent. You nod, taking a deep breath as he slowly slides your skirt down your hips, leaving you standing against him in just your underthings, your body suddenly on fire as he continues to hold you against him. You swear you can feel the hardness of his desire from behind as he continues to caress you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Will you show me?" 

His fingers find the skin of your torso, and you shudder and gasp at how it suddenly ignites you, the fire you kept dormant for so long suddenly ablaze from his ministrations, leaving you breathless. He places wet open-mouthed kisses along the length of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers start to travel down to your waist.  

The corner of his mouth creeps slowly upwards. "Are you going to let me show you just how much I fucking adore you?"

You swallow thickly, nodding absentmindedly as you find yourself caught in his web, exactly where he wants you. "Yes", you whisper, "Please, Joel."

"Do you know how long I've waited for you?" he whispers, his fingertips grazing the outline of your panties, inching lower and lower, the sensation driving you mad with want. You instinctively rub your thighs together, your body craving more friction than what's currently being provided. Joel tsks at the gesture, shaking his head at you through the mirror. "You keep these legs spread for me, baby." His fingers wander upwards, hooking onto the elastic of your underwear, as he watches you closely, a question written across his face. He quirks his eyebrow at you curiously.  

It was all you needed to know just exactly what he was asking.

You give him a tiny nod.  

"Use your words, baby girl. I need to know for sure that this is what you want. I need you to be specific," he commands, his fingers twitching against your skin.

"Please Joel," you whisper, the entirety of your body trembling against his, "Please undress me."

He grins wickedly as he complies, the fabric slipping slowly down your hips, peeling gently down your legs. "I remember the day we first met at your house, how shy and skittish you were. I remember what you wore, even then," he says, taking his time, your panties caught on the ankle of your foot. He tugs them free, his eyes darkening as he realizes that they are soaked through with your slick, glistening under the lowlight of the dressing room.  

You swear you hear his breath quickening as he holds them high against the light in reverence, tucking the scrap piece of fabric into his back pocket.  

"Did you know that you were going to see me that day?" he asks, turning his attention back to you. "Is that why you didn't bother to wear a bra under that shirt of yours?" He shakes his head slowly as he places his hands on your hips once more, his fingers slowly making their way down to your inner thighs. "It was downright indecent, the fabric was so thin I could practically see your tits," his voice sounds more considerably wrecked as he slides his fingers upwards until they hit your slit, a calloused finger expertly parting your lips until they reach the button of your clit.  

He stops. "Have you ever let anyone touch you like this before?"

You shake your head in response, your body arching against his as you desperately seek his touch. "I came close once, back in college, but I-" your voice gets caught in your throat as Joel eases his finger through your lips once more, his fingertips at the precipice of your entrance. You can't help the moan that escapes your lips. He pulls his fingers away from your heat as he reaches into his back pocket, reaching for your panties as he holds the wad of fabric against your mouth. "Open," he commands, stuffing your mouth with the fabric, the tang of your slick so sharp it makes your mouth water even more. "This is a public place, baby, I can't risk us getting kicked out because you can't control yourself, you hear? Nod if you understand me."

You nod.

"Good." He bends forwards slightly, his fingers parting your slit once more, your pussy lips quivering as he gathers your slick, his fingertips breaching your entrance once more. "I know you're still a virgin, Sugar", he breathes as he kisses your neck once more, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'm not going to fuck you with my cock in a dressing room, but I am going to show you just how you make me feel. Is that okay?"

You nod once more, your voice muffled through the fabric of your panties. He breaches your entrance slowly, the thickness of his finger filling you as your body jolts from the intrusion, your eyes closing in pleasure.  

"Look at me, Sugar. Look at what I'm doing to you."

Your eyes shoot open as you see Joel adding another finger into you, the squelch of your wetness against his fingers echoing loudly throughout the room as they slowly pump in and out of your pussy, his fingers crooking inside you slightly as your hips shift against his erection. Joel groans at that, shifting his thigh between your legs. "Lean against me, baby. Watch as I fuck you with my fingers."

You look at yourself in the mirror, the straps of your bralette sliding down your shoulders as Joel fingers you in earnest, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you wither and tremble against his thigh. Joel pulls the chair he was sitting on earlier towards the both of you, pulling his fingers out of you once more as he plops onto the seat, spreading his legs. He beckons his fingers coated in your slick at you. "Come sit on Daddy's lap like a good little girl." 

You stumble inelegantly onto his lap, his hands spreading your legs to rest on his, spreading you out entirely as he gazes at your pussy in the mirror, your ass situated on his jean-covered cock as he starts to grind against you. He pulls your breasts out from the confines of your bralette, the slick of your pussy leaving a trail against your skin as he cups your tits, pinching your nipples as he groans into your neck. "Look at you," he praises, slipping his fingers into your pussy as he begins to finger fuck you into oblivion. You look completely debauched as he thoroughly fucks you, his groans growing louder as he continues to grind his cock against the swell of your ass.  

"Sweet innocent little Sugar, playing hooky and getting wrecked by her boss in public", he spits, his fingers increasing in speed as you mewl against the fabric in your mouth. "What would everyone say, huh? Pulling into the parking lot with your brand new Tesla, walking into the office tomorrow morning in your brand new clothes Daddy bought you?" He rubs his thumb against your clit, your body arching back as you cry from overstimulation. "Are you going to take everything that I'm going to give you?" he pulls the fabric from your mouth, a line of saliva trailing it as you breathe harshly, desperately trying to even your breath. "I asked you a question, Sugar. Are you going to take everything I give you?" he rips his fingers out of your pussy as it clenches on nothing, whining from being so violently edged out. He slaps your pussy for good measure, and you swear you could come from the motion alone. "Answer me!" he growls in your ear.  

"Yes!" you half-scream. "Joel, it's too much, I can't-"

"Yes, you can, baby.  Fuck- keep grinding that ass on my cock, I'm so fucking close", he grips your hip harshly, his fingers digging into the meat of your skin you swear it'll leave a mark. "I can feel you quivering for me, baby, are you gonna come?" He's thrusting, thrusting so harshly against you it's almost to the point of pain, but you're so caught up chasing your release that the pain riles you up, you find yourself gyrating against his hardness as Joel nearly jumps out of his seat in response.  

"Joel, what's happening? I feel so wet, you need to stop, I feel like I'm gonna-" You gasp, the pressure building within you so strongly it feels like you're going to implode. Your body moves in sync with his, the groans and shouts of pleasure building, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks. "It's too much, it's too-" You scream, a gush of wetness flooding out of you as Joel fingers you to completion, a look of shock on your face as he grips your hips and comes in his jeans.  

"FUCK!" he groans as he shoots his load so violently you swear you can feel the ropes of cum through his jeans as he comes down from his high. You sob into his shoulder, his mouth desperately finding yours as he finally kisses you, his tongue running along the seam of your lips, begging for entrance as he grips the back of your head. You kiss him back in earnest, turning yourself around and straddling his thighs, your bare pussy raw against the fabric of his jeans. "Thank you," he mumbles against your lips, his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs wiping your tears away. "You did so good, baby, so fucking good, you came so hard for me you fucking squirted, FUCK! Such a perfect girl, my perfect girl-" 

Your eyes widen in shock as you take in the scene before you, the wetness of your slick coating the surface of the dressing room. "Joel, I can't believe I-" You shift on his lap, panicking. "Fuck, Joel, what are we gonna do? I just came all over the dressing room, in Neiman Marcus for fucks sake-"

Joel chuckles softly, gently tucking your hair behind your ears. "Do you realize the power a black Amex wields? Silence. Lenore's commission today will be outrageous; a few stains here and there won't even register."

"But what if it ruined the merchandise? I haven't even tried anything on—"

"No need. Lenore's already taken care of it on the card. I trust her taste." He plants another tender kiss on your lips, retrieving a sleek silver card from his jeans pocket, the unmistakable Tesla logo gleaming.

He hands you the card with a smirk, and your eyes widen in astonishment as you delicately accept it.

"Happy Birthday, Baby."

The Updated List: (Line items 4, 15 & 16 completed this chapter_)

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[awkward-walking-potato]

This is my first time suggesting anything, so I'm quite excited, Can u do a nightcrawler/Kurt x goth Mutant reader (whose power is smoke like turning herself into smoke or smoke like Illusions) and kinda acts and looks like Morticia Addams and just how there relationship is like Morticia and Gomezs relationship (like how obsessed they are with each other and how genuine there love for each other is)

Shadows of Devotion

The mansion was alive with activity, as it always was, but there was a particular stillness that followed you as you moved through the halls. Your presence commanded attention, though you sought none. Draped in your usual attire—a long, flowing black dress that trailed behind you like smoke—you moved with an ethereal grace that turned heads wherever you went. Your dark hair framed your pale face in soft waves, and your piercing eyes held a depth that could silence a room with a single glance.

You had a reputation among the students and staff, not just for your appearance, but for your powers. You could transform into smoke at will, slipping through cracks and crevices like a wraith, or conjure illusions of shadowy figures that seemed to float in the air. Your powers were as mysterious as you were, and the combination of the two had earned you the whispered nickname of "The Lady of Shadows."

But there was one person who saw you differently, who saw past the dark exterior and into the heart that beat with as much passion as any. That person was Kurt Wagner—Nightcrawler.

To Kurt, you were perfection incarnate, his “Schatz” and “Liebchen,” words he often murmured against your skin as he kissed your hand with the kind of devotion that could only come from a love as deep and unyielding as his. Your relationship was the subject of much curiosity, especially among those who had never seen a love like yours—a love that was intense, almost obsessive, yet so genuine and pure that it left everyone in awe.

Kurt found you in the library one evening, sitting in a high-backed chair, your fingers trailing over the pages of an old book. The light from the candles cast long shadows around you, making you appear even more otherworldly. His heart swelled at the sight, and he wasted no time teleporting to your side, appearing with a soft bamf and the faint scent of brimstone.

“Mein Engel,” he greeted you, his voice low and full of affection. He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips with the kind of reverence that made your breath catch.

“Kurt,” you replied, a smile curving your lips as you looked up at him, your dark eyes glimmering with warmth that only he ever saw. “How many times must I tell you, I’m hardly an angel.”

“To me, you are,” he insisted, his yellow eyes glowing with adoration as he held your gaze.

He never grew tired of the sight of you, never tired of the way you looked at him like he was the only person in the world. It was the same way he looked at you. Kurt was utterly captivated by you, as if every word you spoke, every movement you made, was an enchanting spell that kept him bound to you—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You closed the book and set it aside, standing to face him fully. As you did, you let your body dissolve into smoke for a brief moment, swirling around him before reappearing in his arms, a playful smile on your lips. “You’re hopelessly in love with me, aren’t you?” you teased, your voice a soft, velvety whisper.

“Ja, hopelessly,” he confessed without hesitation, his arms tightening around you. “Ich bin dir verfallen, mein Liebling. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

His words sent a thrill through you, as they always did. There was something about the way Kurt expressed his love—so openly, so passionately—that made your heart race. It was a love that others might find overwhelming, but for you, it was perfect.

With a graceful flourish, Kurt dipped you, his tail curling around your waist to support you as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, slow and tender, savoring the moment. When he pulled back, he didn’t go far, his forehead resting against yours as he gazed into your eyes. “Dance with me,” he murmured.

“Always,” you whispered back, your voice full of the same unwavering devotion.

He straightened, pulling you back up with him, and the two of you began to move together, as if the music was something only you could hear. Kurt’s movements were as fluid and graceful as yours, his experience as an acrobat making him the perfect partner. The two of you danced through the library, your dress swirling around you like smoke, his tail playfully curling and uncurling as he twirled you around.

Every step was filled with an unspoken promise, every touch an affirmation of the love that bound you together. It wasn’t just a dance; it was an expression of everything you felt for each other, a love so deep and consuming that it left no room for doubt or hesitation.

As the dance slowed, Kurt pulled you close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Ich liebe dich, meine Königin der Nacht.”

“And I love you, my Nightcrawler,” you replied, your voice filled with all the tenderness you felt for him.

He leaned in for another kiss, this one more passionate, more urgent, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. And in truth, he couldn’t. You were his obsession, his muse, the light in his darkness—and he was yours.

The kiss deepened, and you could feel the heat between you intensifying. His hands roamed over your back, his touch igniting a fire that seemed to burn brighter with each passing second. You responded in kind, your fingers threading through his hair as you pressed yourself closer to him, wanting to feel every part of him.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts.

“You’ll be the death of me,” you whispered playfully, though the words were tinged with genuine emotion.

“Then I shall die a happy man,” Kurt responded with a soft chuckle, his hands still holding you close. “But until then, I will spend every moment loving you with everything I am.”

“And I will love you,” you replied, your voice steady and sincere. “Forever and always.”

The mansion might have been filled with other mutants, with students and teachers who were powerful in their own right, but none could rival the power of the love that you and Kurt shared. It was a love that was dark and passionate, yet full of light and joy—a love that consumed you both, and yet left you feeling more whole than you had ever been.