#its a bit late when scheduling alright

[sneeb-canons]

Headcanon #139: Heart tries to insult Mind by calling him whatever electronic based item he can think of. TV, calculator, iPhone 4, airfryer, ceiling fan, ANYTHING he can think of.

[honeykaes]

a renter's deal

pairing: renter!kaveh x afab!reader II 2.2k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, cunnilingus, fingering, reader had a previous crush on kaveh, unambiguous if kaveh knew, reader is a landlord, unedited

synopsis: your old college-friend (and crush) Kaveh hadn’t paid rent yet. Just as you draft an email to inform him of the consequences, you hear a knock at the door wish a kaveh desperate to pay you back in other ways.

Cicadas loud chirping echoing from outside as your a/c continuously blast to avoid the hot temperatures of the summer from creeping into your apartment complex. It was the end of the month as the next loomed over in a couple of days. As the landlord, this was one of your busiest times. From working on paperwork moving people out of apartments to finalizing paperwork and credit scores to move people into the apartment, you had your work cut out for you—especially when it came to residents paying their dues for their apartments.

A fan blew past you, causing your body  to shiver as you shake your head trying to focus again on the laptop in front of you. An excel sheet on the screen greeted you back, tracking everyone’s payments. Apartment 125, Tighnari, paid in full. So did apartment 243, Aether and Lumine,  before they moved out.

As you scrolled down, you noticed only a few people had not paid you for rent yet despite today being the last day of the month—including your old college friend, Kaveh.

You and Kaveh were once friends in college before losing contact after graduating. He was always very popular and friendly, a heart of gold that always managed to get hurt by one situation or another. He was now a pretty-well known architect trying to start his own firm. 

You helped him through his breakups, his tests—his ups and downs, as he did the same for you. You wanted to reconnect when you first worked with him, moving in to his complex but things weren’t the same. The two of you aren’t the same 18, 19 year olds staying up late and going to a midnight movie showing before an exam like you used to—you both were in your late twenties, different responsibilities and interests pulling you.

And that scared you, so you gave him space.

Since the economy had slowed and businesses and organizations were interesting in building more projects anymore, Kaveh suffered immensely, scrapping anything he could to try to pay rent at the last minute to you. You felt bad but you didn’t want to pry either. 

You let out a sigh, clicking on your emails as you began to draft. Since he was late on payment, a meeting needed to be scheduled and fees processed to strategize a plan. You didn’t want to evict the poor man; or anyone for that matter.

Just as you finished drafting the email, you turned your head hearing a knock at the door. Placing your laptop on your coffee table and rising from the couch, you expected a resident to inform you about something breaking or not working. Your lips parted in shock to see Kaveh at the door. 

Kaveh seemed completely disheveled, long blond ombre hair, a mess unlike its usually tidy self. His clothes were wrinkled and unfastened as if he had just woken up and immediately ran here. He leans along the wall near your door, chest heaving loudly as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Kaveh?! Are you alright?!” you stammered out. Kaveh puts a finger out to signal to give him a second before he finally catches his breath.

“N-No. I’m so sorry I’m late on rent,” he groaned. “I am working with this school to create a playground but they won’t be able to pay me until next week. I’m a bit short with rent with my current funds.”

Your lips curled downwards before lifting your head to to nurse the headache threatening to form from the stress of the situation.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been late, Kaveh. I can’t grant you a grace period. I really need that money in full,” you murmured. Kaveh turned to face you, scarlet eyes misty in desperation. Your heart withered seeing him in this state, but you feared bugging would put you on a tight spot with your boss.

“Please (Y/n)! You got to understand, I really tried this time. I can give you what I have and give you the remaining next week! Then I’ll be good to go for next month,” Kaveh yelled out. 

“Kaveh, let’s continue this inside, okay? I’ll get you a glass of water or some tea to calm your nerves,” you beckoned, as your own anxiety began to creep in your stomach, you open your door beckoning Kaveh to come inside without a potential audience watching the two of you.

As he nervously entered, stifly sitting himself at the couch as you leave to enter your adjacent kitchen.

“I am only short 500 out of the 1500 dollars for rent and utilities. I can surely give that to you next week,” Kaveh called out as you prepare some glasses of water for you two. You sigh once more, leaning yourself against the fridge trying to figure out what to say without hurting your old friend’s feelings anymore.

“Kaveh, technically it wouldn’t be 500 but 1000. 100 for the late fee and 400 because this is the second time, along with the 500. I don’t make these policies, my bosses do,” you replied solemnly, guilt beginning to eat at you.

“Then what can I do to prevent the late fees from occurring!” he asked.

In college, whenever he was in a bad situation, to make him feel better you always started off with a ridiculous joke to catch him off guard before giving some sound advice with a smile. Oftentimes, he’d be smiling back, hopeful and taking your feedback and lighthearted jokes for the better.

Grabbing the glasses of water, you walked back into the living room placing the waters on the coffee table and closing your laptop.

“I don’t know, fuck me or something,” you idly murmured out before chuckling. Just as you were about to give him actual advice, Kaveh fell to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your legs. You gasped, flustered,  body shifting in embarrassment feeling his close contact.

“Kaveh! What are you doing! It was a joke! Y’know like I used to do in college!” you stammered out. Kaveh lifted his head up, eyebrows slightly furrowed in determination.

“Well, I’m not! I wouldn’t mind it at all. If this makes those pesky late fees go away, I’d be more than happy to do this and more!” Kaveh replied. You tried forming words from your quivering lips but your mind seemed to be malfunctioning, feeling his lips beginning to trail along your thighs, placing soft kisses along the skin.

“...Please (Y/n). For old times sake?” he whispered. 

Your heart tugged remembering the big crush you had on him before and the drunken kisses you shared with him as you attending parties together leaving you longing for more—the memories were flooding you like a tidal wave.

“...Okay, Kaveh…”

With a small smile gracing his sun-kissed face, Kaveh hands trailed up as his fingers hook on their shorts and the waistband of your underwear and gilded them down. He leaned his face in, puffs of his hot breath causing your body to shiver from the sensation as your clit began throbbing in anticipation.

His face tilts closer, darting his tongue out as he trailed a long swipe between your folds. The muscles curled up to brush against your clit, jolts of pleasure rooting through you from the sudden touch. He swirled along the bud of nerves, hands squeezing at your thighs. Your hands reached over to his hair, playing with the soft curls and losing yourself to pleasure.

He flicked his tongue along the nub, feeling your hips beginning to rock along his face. A low groan emitted from you as you ground yourself against him, his lips circling around your clit before beginning to suck. He continued to switch from sucking to rapidly flicking and circling his tongue on your clit while his hand crept up to squeeze your ass so he could keep up with your movements.

As he continued, one hand eventually left the globe letting two of his fingers sink into your dribbling cunt, coated with your arousal and his saliva. He pumped them deliberately slowly, your legs shaking from his delicate touch, wanting more.

“Kaveh,” you whimpered out, hearing him slurp continuously as your slick graced his mouth. He nuzzled his face deeper into your cunt, as his fingers pumped inside your pulsating walls, curling and massaging themselves to get you closer to your high.

Shutting your eyes, your hands traveled to your chest and squeezed it tightly as your voice began to rise, feeling Kaveh’s tongue press harder against the button. You throw your head back, as your high finally reached you. Kaveh struggled to keep up with your movements as he continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, nursing your high before it fell down. 

With slight jitters, Kaveh finally leaned away, lower mouth completely coated in your slick. His tongue was parted out, strings of your arousal still connecting the muscle with your cunt. Your tired eyes stared down in embarrassment, cheeks warm in shame as Kaveh wipes his mouth in content.

You could see the bulge poking out from his pants.

“W-Well! You’ve done your part! So—”

You're interrupted by Kaveh rising from his knees on the floor and connecting his lips with your own in a passionate kiss. You can’t help but moan, feeling his tongue, stained in your juices, roam inside your own mouth as he pulled you closer. He momentarily broke the kiss, both of you trying to catch your breaths, lips hovering by your own.

“I want to ensure that you don’t go back on your word though. So please, let me ensure your pleasure…” Kaveh breathlessly begged, claiming your lips once more. His hands wandered to your waist as pinned you against the wall—paintings knocking roughly from the sudden movement. 

Breaking the kiss once more, he zipped his pants down, revealing his throbbing erection. His cock was flushed, shivering as he took a hold of it as precum budded at its tip, dripping down to the rest of his length. He pumped it a few times with a shaky moan erupting from his lips before using another hand to slightly light your leg up near his small waist.

Your lips trembled as the tip of his cock spread past your folds trying to find your entrance, gathering up the abundant slick drooling from you. As Kaveh lined himself up, he placed his lips by your ear and with a low groan, sank himself inside of you. 

He grunted loudly when he finally bottomed out, cock nestled deep inside of you. He pecked at your neck before snapping his hips back, thrusting himself inside of you. The paintings hit the wall rowdily to the pace of his thrusts. 

“I hope you’re enjoying my end of the d-deal…” Kaveh grunted out, pressing his lips against your ear so you could hear all of his little noises. You moaned in response as Kaveh reached over to press tight circles along your overstimulated clit. 

“Y-You made me so sensitive,” you admitted, as you chirped, feeling Kaveh shifting his angle pistoning inside of you so he was not hitting that spot he desperately wanted to find.

“T-That’s the point. I want to make you cum so hard. I know you can…you're so close aren’t you, eshgham,” he whispered, nibbling on your neck. Kaveh could feel your walls beginning to cave in and spasm, signaling your end was close. 

“K-Kav—” Kaveh captured your lips as you reached your second climax, your body shivering pinned against him. Hips sloppily faltered as he furrowed his eyebrows to try to control his own temptations and guide you down your high once more.

As glossy lips part from your own, Kaveh slipped his cock out, pumping it rapidly before a desperate groan emitted from his lips before biting down to try to be quieter. Ropes of cum shot from his tip, smearing themselves on your thighs. 

He watched as his cum glided down the curves of your wobbling leg. He let your other leg down before supported your weight on your body with a small smile.

“Easy there…you’re probably very overstimulated. Let’s get you all cleaned up in your bathroom. Where is that,” he asked. You tiredly pointed into the direction of your bedroom as he guided you toward it. As he opened the door, he gently set you down on the rim of the porcelain bathtub before reaching to grab a rag on your towel rack.

“I’m sorry for going a little overboard. I just wanted to ensure I had done my part. Keeping my end of the deal is important to me,” he murmured, wetting the towel up with some soap before wiping it down to clean your legs. As he wiped over your cunt, you whined at the burn of overstimulation getting to you.

“...So, please, please please don’t go back on your word, (Y/n),” he begged, with large  pleading eyes. You sighed once more, but to his surprise it was a lot lighter in tone than earlier.

“...You don’t have to pay rent at all for this month, okay? I’ll cover it…just focus on getting the money for the next month,” you whispered. Kaveh lit up as a grin curled on his face. He leaned in placing a tender kiss on your forehead as your cheeks fought against a blush.

“...I missed you Kaveh…” you admitted. Kaveh brushed part of your hair away.

“I missed you too.”

[kykyonthemoon]

Blue Ribbon

Distracted from his work by you, he decided to use your special blue ribbon for another purpose.

ಇ. Zayne x Female Reader/MC

ಇ. Tags: fluff, established relationship, MC being a baby, tied hands, soft bite

ಇ. Word count: ~1k4

ಇ. Requested by Ann.

ಇ. Masterlist

It initially started out as a date between you and Zayne.

You had planned ahead of time, opted for a light spring outfit, and wore a long blue ribbon in your hair with two tiny snowflake-shaped charms at both ends. You decided on it because it reminded you of Zayne.

You arrived at the hospital fifteen minutes before the scheduled date. Zayne was yet to leave his office. Yvonne informed you about an important meeting that Dr. Zayne needed to attend. You sat and waited outside his office for a while. Then, as if he knew you had arrived, he opened the door and welcomed you inside.

"Would that bother your work?" You inquired, and Zayne shook his head.

"Not a problem. The meeting has ended. There are only a few more things I need to take care of. Is it alright if you wait a little longer?"

You nodded. The office door closed behind him. For nearly the next hour, you obediently waited in the room. Feeling bored, you took out your phone to play with, wandered about the room, or sipped some tea. Zayne was still working intently on the computer as if you were not present. Sometimes, you could not help but feel a little sorry for yourself.

He failed to even glance at you, let alone praise you on how gentle your makeup was that day. Despite the fact that you were fully aware of Zayne's work ethic and the significance of his work, that afternoon was intended to be for you rather than the computer. The main reason you disagreed with it was that he lately had to work hard for several days in a row. You made him commit to spend time with you that afternoon. However, something unexpected occurred, causing his shift to be prolonged.

You felt both saddened and disappointed. You would sometimes approach him and poke him, as if to remind him that you still existed and that he needed to interact with you, even if only for a few minutes. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, his hands raced on the keyboard, and he spoke:

“Don't mess around. I'm almost done.”

Hearing that, you sighed again. When he stated he was almost done, it meant that his session lasted for nearly another hour. It was no longer dusk. You lamented your plan to go for an afternoon walk around Linkon City. But seeing him as a workaholic upset you so much. Finally, you decided that you would carry out your "scheme".

You got between him and the monitor. At first, you just stood there obstructing his view. Zayne gently drew you out of there  when you took the opportunity to take his hand and sat on his lap. Zayne seemed astonished, but his intense concentration prevented him from saying anything further to you. He let you sit on his lap, arms wrapped around you, and resumed typing.

Anger swelled in your heart. Even though you had no idea how urgent his business was, you did not appreciate being left out on your own date. He made a promise to spend the afternoon with you, and if there was an emergency, he would certainly let you know and reschedule the date rather than keep you waiting like this. Apparently, he just loved to work overtime.

In Zayne's lap, your body started to move. You deliberately turned around to wrap both arms around Zayne's neck. Your whisper found its way to his ear:

“Doctor Zayne, you promised to spend the afternoon with me. But you don't pay attention to me even just for a minute."

"Be still." Zayne's voice remained courteous and full of patience. "I still have another urgent meeting—"

"No!" You interrupted him. “Your shift ended a few hours ago.”

You felt Zayne's breath on your forehead as he replied: "Good girl. Please wait a bit longer."

But you chose not to be good. You gave him a pout before pressing your body close to his chest. You seized him firmly and kept urging:

“Take a break! Take a break! Doctor Zayne!”

Zayne was literally an iceberg. He was unmoved by your whining. You grew so helpless that you nibbled hard on his ear.

“Hmmph!”

Perhaps that was Zayne's limit. His expression stiffened. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you off his lap. His other hand swiftly removed the blue ribbon from your head, forcing your already tidy hair to fall down.

You blinked with astonishment. You could only stand there and watch Zayne knot both of your hands with that ribbon. The knot was so tight that your wrists could not move at all. Zayne rose up, brought you down in his chair, and frowned.

"Stay there. I'm heading to the meeting hall and will be back later."

After finishing his speech, he picked up a file on the table and quickly walked out. After the door was closed, you sat still in disbelief of what had just transpired. It appeared like he had bound your hands using a surgeon's knot, which is widely used in surgery. This sort of knot required a lot of work to remove. You moved your hands around, just to make those minimal snowflake charms swing as if they were mocking you that Zayne had actually used his Evol to keep you in place.

You were speechless that Zayne would do that only to stop you from disturbing him. You were alone in his office, stunned and bitter. Perhaps you went too far when you bit him. You should have been more reasonable and waited for him to finish his work. You had waited for him longer than this before. Had you upset him? You were torn between sulking at him and apologizing first.

Zayne returned about a half hour later to undo the knot for you. He took you out to supper and then returned to your apartment. Throughout the ride, you spoke nothing to Zayne but a few quick responses as necessary. You still were not sure how to adequately express how you felt for him. What if he got mad and was ready to tie you up again?

But you were not expecting Zayne to grasp your hands as soon as you arrived home. He took a close look and massaged your wrists.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

He asked. You withdrew your hands again and turned away.

"No."

He could tell you were sulking by the tone of your speech. He pulled you back and embraced you from behind. It was his turn to explain:

"I'm really sorry. Today's work was so urgent that I could not postpone it until tomorrow. On another note, you may do whatever you want when it's just the two of us; but at work, it's not a smart idea. Since, if you continue to be naughty like that, I would…”

“What would you do, Doctor Zayne?” You were curious, and got the urge to tease him even more.

“I would be too distracted.”

"Alright. I'm sorry, too..." You smiled and spoke sweetly, yet there was a hint of huff in your voice. "But you didn't need to tie me up like that."

You struggled like a worm in his embrace. Zayne easily held you tightly with just one arm, the other hand stroked your hair.

"Alright. It is my fault. I should not have tied you up and left you at the office. I will compensate for you, okay?"

You remained silent while waiting for him to offer a good proposal.

"My entire day off tomorrow is dedicated to you."

"Hmm." You seemed less than satisfied. You turned around and gazed into Zayne's eyes. "I still want one more thing."

Zayne grinned, "Sure."

"You don't know what I'm going to ask for, and you've already agreed? Once you've said it, you can't take it back!"

He patted your head and reaffirmed: "I won't take it back."

You smiled as if you were plotting something, then pulled out your blue ribbon and lifted it in front of Zayne. It was time for him to feel the thrill of being tied with his own surgeon's knot. You requested:

"Show me how to tie that knot!" 

[lciesdepravity]

Depraved Series

Tzuyu Arc Chapter 1-1: Destruction

It was another hectic day for Twice's Maknae, Chou Tzuyu. Her week was full of fashion shoots, radio interviews, and live stages that the only time she had for eating was the car rides in between gigs.

It was all part of the idol package though - she understood that. What she didnt understand was why JYPE couldn't plan it so that the members schedules would at least align with each other.

She rolled her eyes, annoyance seeping out as she ate the last roll of her kimbap. 'As usual, the company sucks in international promotions, specially here in the US. Ugh, why do I have to go do this interview alone?'

A few minutes pass, and their van stops in front of a huge mansion. Her manager hurriedly opens the car door for her, ushering her to the door in quick frantic steps.

"Mian Chewy-ah, I'm running a bit late, I still have to pick up Sana and Chaeyoung for their shoot. Ugh, why did JYPE send only 3 managers for you guys? They really suck at promoting you guys here huh?"

She could only look at the haggard manager in sympathy, as she beckons him to return to the car.

"Mian Oppa. You go on ahead, I'll be fine on my own here. I'll just text you when I'm done with the shoot, okay?"

The manager shot her an appreciative smile. "Always the angel... Thanks Chewy-ah! I'll be sure to pick you up with some snacks later. Have fun with the shoot kay? Fighting!"

She watched as her tired af manager drove the van away in record speed. 'Uwah, JYP owes the manager-nims some serious vacation time after this.'

She looks back at the huge door of the mansion and steels herself.

'Okay, Tzuyu. Fighting!'

She schools her features into the ideal idol look as she presses the doorbell. 

Ding Dong~ ><

A few seconds pass by, and she briefly considers pressing it again when suddenly, a muscular black man opens the door. She smiles innocently as she bows to greet him as best she can with her limited English skills. 

"Hello! I'm Chou Tzuyu, and I'm here for the interview! Its nice to meet you."

The man shot her with a confused look, but let her inside nonetheless. He took her to a huge white room with a black couch, several cameras set up all over the room.

"Please wait here Ms. I'll just go get Rico."

She couldn't really understand much, but she smiled nonetheless and took a seat on the black couch.

'Huh, they have a really plain studio. Just a black couch, a white backdrop and an office table. I hope they know how to speak Korean... Or Mandarin. Ugh dammit, JYP didn't even give us interpreters!' She looked around for a bit, before deciding to fiddle with her phone while waiting.

Meanwhile...

"Hey Rico! Did'ya sched filming today bro? Bitch downstairs says she here for an interview."

"Wha? Fuck no man, I told'em porno companies I'm on break!"

"Aight bet. The girl looks hella fine tho. Ain't like those used saggy pussies in the industry, so I let her wait in the set. I figure you wanna piece of that. Come downstairs and see for yourself man."

"Tsk, aight man, but if she ugly its on you fucker."

Tzuyu was fiddling around with her phone when suddenly, the man comes in with another black man, this time wearing a bath robe.

'Oh? Is this gonna be like Na-Mo-Sa unnies' interview? That looked fun, I cant wait!'

"Please, have a seat Ms." The man said in his deep voice as he took a seat in the office table in front of her. She bowed shyly before taking a seat.

Rico eyed the woman slowly up and down, subconsciously biting his lips as he did.

'Hot damn this woman fine as hell!'

From her sleek black hair, to her innocent doe like eyes, her luscious lips. Yeah, there's no one in the porn industry that can match her beauty alright.

His eyes traveled down to her chest, not too big, but not small either. They look ample, firm. The shape nicely outlined in that fit black crop top of hers.

He then caught sight of her waist perfectly slimmed down to compliment her shapely hips, where he spotted the most drool inducing thighs he'd ever laid eyes on.

'Holy fuckin shit... We just hit the jackpot.'

Instantly, his heart rate shot up, and his dick already reaching its full mast.

'Eaaazzyy boy... Don't wanna scare the girl this early.' 

He looked back at his partner, and gave a nod, the one only real bros would know the meaning, and so he left the two alone.

Then he turned to the beauty before him.

"Good Morning Miss. My name is Rico Strong and uhh my guy earlier says you're here for an interview. Could you go ahead and introduce yourself to us?"

Tzuyu was slightly puzzled at this. 'Aren't they supposed to know me already? Ah! Must be for the viewers. Okay, its starting already.' She put on her best smile and gathered her energy.

"Hi! My name is Tzuyu from Twice! Nice to meet you!" She gave a radiant smile, and a wave to the camera near him.

"Tzuyu huh? Well that's definitely a new name in the industry. I never heard of Twice production so you guys must be new in the biz. So uhh wattcha doin here in LA Ms. Tzuyu?"

'Fuck, I really hate that JYP didn't give me interpreters for this.' She nervously bit her lip as she shyly tried to eke out her answer in passable English.

"Uhm... Im here for, concert? Like sing and dance and perform. Sorry my English not too good yet." She smiled shyly. The man smiled back, giving her some form of confidence that he at least somewhat understood what she said.

"Ey, that's alright, you're doing fine. Your english was fine Ms. Tzuyu. Relax! Are you nervous?"

She giggled before shyly tucking her hair behind her ear and crossing her legs. "A bit yeah, but I'm excited as well! Ehehe."

As Tzuyu shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes inadvertently drifted downward, settling beneath the desk where Rico's bathrobe concealed his lower half. Her gaze froze, her breath catching in her throat as she caught sight of the unmistakable bulge pressing against the fabric.

Oh my... What is that? Is that...?

Meanwhile, Rico's eyes were fixed on Tzuyu's crossed thighs and sleek heeled feet, subtly ogling her as she tried to maintain her composure and answer his questions.

"So, *ehem* Tzuyu, tell me, what do you think sets you apart from other models in the industry?"

Tzuyu's heart raced, her cheeks flushing with heat as she struggled to keep her thoughts in order, all the while sneaking glances at the bulge beneath the desk.

"Uh, well, um... I-I think, uh, my ability to, uh, d-dance well... and my, um, beauty... sets me apart."

'I-I shouldn't be looking... But it's so... distracting. Focus, Tzuyu, focus.'

With each passing moment, Rico's bulge seemed to swell beneath the bathrobe, stretching the fabric to its limit. Desperately trying to maintain her professionalism, Tzuyu forced herself to continue answering his questions, though her gaze remained fixated on his ever growing bulge.

"And have you ever considered exploring different genres of modeling? Perhaps something more... provocative?"

"Oh, um, w-well... I-I don't really... understand, but, um, I-I'm open to, uh, e-exploring new modeling gigs..."

Just then, the fabric of Rico's bathrobe came undone, no longer able to contain the monster beneath. With a sudden release, his cock slipped free from its confines, standing proudly erect and larger than anything Tzuyu had ever seen.

Her eyes widened in astonishment, her shock evident as she took in the sheer size of it—thick, veiny, and pulsating with power.

Oh my god... That's... enormous. It's bigger than anything I've ever had before. Even bigger than some of the unnies' toys. How is that even possible?

As Tzuyu's gaze remained transfixed on Rico's engorged cock, she failed to register the black bull rising from his seat and closing the distance between them. As he approached, Tzuyu's heartbeat quickened, her eyes widening in anticipation as she stared up at him with a mixture of awe and lust. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead as her mouth went dry, her body betraying her with each passing moment.

T-The interview... I-I should say something...

Her words freeze in her throat as Rico stood before her, his towering figure casting a shadow over her trembling form. She could feel the heat radiating from his body in waves, his dominating presence overwhelming her entire being. Mesmerized by the sheer magnitude of Rico's cock, Tzuyu found herself leaning forward involuntarily, her eyes locked on his big black throbbing cock as if drawn by an invisible force.

Oh god... What's happening to me? I-I can't... I can't look away. Like I'm under a spell...

Tzuyu's eyelids flutter as she succumbs to temptation. Without a second thought, she instinctively dropped to her knees before him; and with trembling hands, she reached out, her fingertips grazing the heated skin of his throbbing cock.

I-It's... I-I need to...

*Tsup*

As her puckered lips brush against the sensitive head of Rico's massive member, a low, primal groan escapes his lips, his cock twitching in response. The pulsing of his cock surprised the petite idol, and she had to move back to avoid it slapping against her face. 

W-Wow, That almost hit me...

Now up close and personal, her senses were assaulted by the intoxicating blend of his musk and arousal. She leaned in closer, kissing his engorged cock head once more before pressing her nose against the sides and taking a long, needy sniff.  

*Sniff* Mmmmmm~ I-I can't get enough... He smells so good...

Her entire body trembles as she exhales, her hot breath tickling him ever so slightly. With a beat, her lips grazes the sensitive head of Rico's massive member. As she meets his gaze, she sucks in her breath and slowly, tentatively, envelops the tip of his cock with her warm, wet mouth.

*Tsup* Ahmmmm~ Oh god... He's watching me. I can't look away.

She suckles on his cock head, eager to please. She could feel his intense gaze burning into her, making her even more nervous. The salty tang of his precum danced on her tongue, sending a  small jolt of pleasure coursing through her veins.

With each movement, she feels herself growing bolder, tongue swirling around the underside of his cock as she services him. She could feel him pulsating and twitching with every lick, with every suck.

*Tsup* Mmm~ Shlurp~ Ahhmmm~ Shlurp~ Shlurp~

The wet, slurping noises mingled with Rico's ragged breaths and low, guttural moans. With a determined flick of her tongue, she urges him deeper into her mouth, her lips stretching  wide to accommodate his massive girth.

I want more... I need more.

As Rico's cock slid further into her mouth, Tzuyu struggles to contain a moan of pleasure, the sensation of being stuffed with a mouth full of cock was addicting. She could feel him stretching her lips inch by inch, his girth pressing against the tight confines of her mouth, threatening to overwhelm her.

He's so fucking big... I can barely take him. Fuck... He's stretching me so wide.

The young idol persists, her determination matched only by her insatiable desire. Up until she finds herself struggling against her own body's instincts. With a small thrust of his hips, Rico's cock pressed against the back of her throat, triggering her gag reflex.

Shlurp~ Ahhmmm~ Ack - gulck!~

Despite the discomfort, Tzuyu refused to relent, her lips sealed tight around his big black cock as she fought to suppress the urge to pull away. Rico, sensing her struggle, placed a comforting hand on the back of her head, his touch both reassuring and commanding.

"You're doing so good, baby. Keep going."

Good... Baby... 

Her moist pussy dampens even more at the praise, his words messing with her head, making her feel dizzy.

But like the good girl she is, Tzuyu pushed herself to go deeper. Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth as she bobbed her head up and down, slowly taking him deeper with each pass. With each movement, she could feel the spit bridge forming between them, connecting her mouth to his cock in a slick, wet embrace.

Obscene sounds echoed across the room as Tzuyu's throat bulges around his massive cock, her eyes watering with the effort to maintain her composure. 

"Mmmmpph~! Gulckgulck, -slurp~ gawk~ mmmph!~ *inhale*  shluurp~ gulck - Ahh~" 

A few coughs escapes her tiny form as she pulls back and takes deep labored breaths. She let his cock rest on her face in the meantime, and it covered her face from her forehead to her chin - and then some...

With trembling hands, she reaches out, her long slender fingers struggling to wrap around the base of his throbbing cock. Her tongue services his magnanimous balls in the meantime. It's so heavy, so full... full of cum - all for her. The spit she coated on his long black dick dripped onto her lashes, yet she couldn't care less.

Chou Tzuyu, the once innocent maknae of Twice, known for her grace and poise, finds herself panting like a bitch in heat, mouth full of cock, small drops of her own spit on her lashes and cheeks, her composed facade shattered by his big black cock.

Jeezus... His cock is fucking perfect...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a full minute of worshipping his balls, she feels Rico's hands firmly grip her head. Despite the language barrier, she knew exactly what it meant - what was coming next. With a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, she released her grip and braced herself. His voice was low and guttural, his words sending a shiver down Tzuyu's spine. 

"Open wide, baby. I'm gonna fuck that pretty face of yours."

Her beautiful doe eyes locks with his as she throws her head as far back as she could. Tzuyu opens wide, tongue sticking out as he slaps his cock on it a few times. Then, in one swift move, his grip on her head tightens, his hips surge forward, and the poor little idol gets her face fucked by the black bull. 

"Mmmmpph~! Gawk gawk gawk~ mmmph!~ *inhale* shluurp~ gulck - Ahh~"

Rico's hands guided her head. With each and every thrust, his cock plunges deeper and deeper into her mouth, stretching her throat and fucking it with reckless abandon. 

"That's it, take it all," he growled, his words punctuated by the wet slap of flesh against flesh.

F-Fuck... he's pounding me so hard. I'm not gonna be able to sing for awhile after this.

He used her face like a fucking cocksleeve, her nose hitting his pubes with each thrust. Occasionally, he parked his cock deep in her throat, cutting off her air supply and leaving her gasping for breath. Each time, she felt her chest constricting, a desperate need for air clawing at her insides.

I can't breathe... please, I need air.

"Yeah~ keep your pretty face down there. That's where you belong."

Tzuyu's hands slapped against Rico's thighs, a silent plea for mercy as she struggled to draw in even the smallest breath. Her vision blurred, spots dancing before her eyes as she fought against the overwhelming sensation of suffocation.

Rico's cock remained lodged in her throat, his grip unyielding as he pushed her to the brink of consciousness. He watched intently as her arms flail and slap, until eventually it goes limp, her eyes rolling back in her head.

I'm going to pass out... please, let me breathe.

"Yeaaaaaaa! Thats right. You dont need air, you need cock. Fucking take my big black dick!"

Just when she thought she couldn't take it any longer, Rico finally relented, withdrawing his cock and allowing her to gasp for air. Each breath was a precious gift, filling her lungs with sweet sweet relief as she struggled to cough and catch her breath.

T-Thank god... I thought I was going to pass out.

Feeling Tzuyu relax, Rico took a fistful of her hair and forced his cock back into her throat, cutting off her air supply once more. Tzuyu's eyes widened in panic as she felt the familiar sensation of suffocation, her body instinctively struggling against his grip.

Oh god, not again...

He continued this a few more times, sometimes even locking her in with his legs. Each time he took her to the brink, only releasing her when her eyes go white. Eventually though, he releases her, and she coughs up a storm. Her once sleek black hair now disheveled, and her chin was dripping with spit. Suddenly Rico pulls her up, stripping off her dress with practiced ease.

Tzuyu's body was too weak to resist, and her mind was too clouded with lust. She offered no resistance whatsoever as he positioned her inverted on the couch, her legs resting against the backrest and her head dangling over the edge.

His gaze lingered on the infamous Thighwanese legs and feet, and she felt a thrill of anticipation course through her as he leaned in closer. She could feel his breath hot against her skin as he inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring as he took in her scent.

He's smelling me... he likes the way I smell.

Tzuyu's heart raced as Rico's lips brushed against her legs, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her body. She closed her eyes, surrendering herself fully to the sensations as he continued to worship her legs with near reverence.

"*Sniff* Mmmmm~, fuck baby, you smell so good. I've never seen legs this perfect before."

He turned his attention turned to Tzuyu's feet, which were now laid bare before him. She felt a pang of self-consciousness, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the thought of her sweaty feet. But Rico showed no hesitation as he leaned in, his tongue eagerly lapping at her heels.

Instictively, Tzuyu spread her toes, offering herself to him completely as he began to worship her feet with an insatiable hunger. She felt a rush of excitement as Rico's lips trailed over the delicate arches of her feet, his tongue caressing each toe with meticulous care.

Oh god, that tickles, but it also feels amazing.

Rico's lips closed around each toe in turn, sucking gently as he worshiped her with single-minded devotion. With each flick of his tongue against the flats of her feet, she felt herself growing wetter, her arousal building to a fever pitch as he explored her with unbridled passion. She curled her toes in pleasure, failing to stop the moan that escapes her mouth.

"You taste so good, baby. I could do this all day."

As Rico's attention shifted from Tzuyu's feet to her exposed and inverted body, a surge of anticipation coursed through her. Since she's suspended upside down, all the blood rushed to her head, and she felt utterly vulnerable and exposed.

What is he going to do to me like this?

Suddenly, his thick fat fingers teased her labia, sending several jolts of pleasure racing through Tzuyu's body. She gasped at the sensation, her hips instinctively bucking against his touch as he explored her with deliberate care.

"*Mmmmmmm~* Your pussy is so plump and wet, baby. It's begging to be fucked."

She feels him spit at her pussy, his fingers spreading the spit like lube. He pokes, he stretches, he opens her pussy lips. Her head was getting even more dizzy from the stimulation. Her pussy throbbed with need, glistening, shaved smooth and begging to be touched. It pulsed with anticipation, aching to be filled as pre-cum dribbled down her folds.

Her hips bucked impatiently against the air once more, needy, craving. Who was he to deny such a cute and pink pussy?

And so he indulges her. His thick fat fingers plunged into the young idol's dripping pussy; she couldn't help but let out a whimper of pleasure. 

Oh god, yes...

His touch was firm and demanding, his fingers stretching her to her limits as he explored every inch of her throbbing core. Tzuyu's moans filled the room, a chorus of ecstasy as Rico worked her over with expert precision.

"You like that, baby? You like how I'm fingering your sloppy little cunt?"

Tzuyu's body trembled with pleasure at his words, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she surrendered herself to his control. 

"Uhh~Uhh~Ooh~! Yes daddy~" God its been so long... F-fuuckk

He played with her sopping wet cunt expertly. Slapping it lightly at times, massaging the insides slowly. Sometimes, his thumb brushes against her clit, sending jolts to her body and making her gasp and twitch. He played her slowly, teasingly, up until his fingers curl and finds her weak spot.

She bucks her hips involuntarily as he hits her spot deep, and he smirks. With relentless fervor, the fucker hit her g spot again and again, curling his fingers as he exits. With each thrust, Tzuyu felt herself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, her moans growing louder with each passing moment.

F-fuck I'm going to cum.I'm going to cum so hard... Fuck fuck fuck

Out of nowhere, her pussy gushes like a fountain, squirting streams of her juices directly into Rico's waiting mouth. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over her, each climax more intense than the last. She could feel herself losing control, her body convulsing with pleasure as she screamed incoherently.

Amidst the pleasure however, there was something else. A sensation unlike anything she had ever felt before. Tzuyu felt a warm rush spreading through her, a feeling of release so intense it bordered on euphoria.

Oh my god, I can't stop... N-no, I-I'm peeing...

Despite her embarrassment, golden liquid streamed out of her and into Rico's waiting mouth. He eagerly drank in every drop of her essence, up until it weakened to a trickle.

"*Shlurp~ Aaahh~ Thanks for the meal. Hehe."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Tzuyu lay there, gasping for air and trembling from the intensity of her orgasm, she felt a strange sense of freedom wash over her. With her body still tingling with pleasure, she no longer cared about maintaining her pristine idol image. All that mattered was his big black cock.

Hah~ Hah~ I've never felt so alive...

Before she could fully register what was happening, she felt his strong arms lifting her, carrying her effortlessly up a set of stairs.

He tossed her unceremoniously onto a large soft bed, but before she could protest or resist, he silenced her with a single command.

"We're not done, bitch. I haven't even cum yet. "

He pulls her up, making her straddle him, causing a surge of apprehension pulsing through her. His cock, thick and long like her forearm, seemed daunting, a challenge she wasn't sure she could conquer. 

Fuck, he's going to annihilate me with that cock... I-I don't think I can take him in.

Rico's voice broke through her thoughts, his tone commanding. "Put those baby making hips of yours to good use and fuck yourself on my cock."

With an unsure nod and a shaky breath, she began to grind her hips against his, feeling the head of his cock teasing her entrance. Every time his cock head contacts her clit, a jolt of pleasure rings through her body.

With determination and a twinge of nervousness in her eyes, she lined up his cock on her pussy's entrance and, with a deep breath, slips his cock head past her outer walls. With every inch she descends, she could feel the thick girth of his member stretching her to her limits, threatening to tear her apart from the inside out.

Oh god, it's so big... I don't know if I can take it all...

Each moment was a battle of wills, a test of her resolve and her body's endurance. With a determined grit, she pressed on, inch by inch, her body trembling with the effort. Rico's cock filled her completely, stretching her walls beyond what she thought possible. Each movement sent waves of pleasure and pain rippling through her, a heady mix that left her gasping for breath.

But as she continued to lower herself onto him, she felt a sense of triumph wash over her. Slowly, she conquered the challenge before her, her body slowly adapting to the overwhelming size of his cock.

I'm doing it... I'm taking him all in...

With a final push, she impaled herself fully on his length, taking him deep inside her until she was filled to the brim. As Tzuyu looked down at the bulge in her womb, her eyes widened in both awe and trepidation. 

*Smack!*

Rico's hand came down on her ass with a sharp slap, the sound echoing in the room as he commanded her to move.

"Congratulations. Now show me what those hips can do, baby. Ride my cock like you mean it."

With a determined nod, Tzuyu planted her feet firmly on the bed, her hands gripping his chest for support as she began to move. Slowly at first, she rocked her hips back and forth, feeling the thick length of his cock sliding inside her.

I can do this... I can take him...

As she gained confidence, she picked up the pace, her hips growing more and more frenzied with each passing moment. Rico's cock filled her completely, stretching her to her limits as she fucked herself onto him with reckless abandon.

"PlokplokOoh~... Ahh~... Uhh f-fuck!~..."

With each bounce, she could feel the thick length of him sliding in and out of her, filling her completely with every stroke. Her perky tits jiggled with her every move, whilst her hips shook with a frantic urgency, driving herself onto him with an intensity that bordered on desperation. 

Oh god, it feels so good...

As Tzuyu's hips grew more erratic, she felt herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Rico's spanks landed on her ass repeatedly, igniting sparks of pleasure that danced along her skin.

*Smack!**Smack!**Smack!*

"That's it, baby, ride me like the little slut you are."

"Oh god...Daddy~ I'm... I'm close."

Her walls clenched around Rico's cock, milking him for all he was worth as she chased her peak. Just as she was about to cum, Rico suddenly took control. With a swift movement, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him as he took charge.

Tzuyu's moans turned into cries of ecstasy as Rico pounded into her pussy with relentless force. Her legs gave out beneath her, unable to support her weight as she was overwhelmed by the intensity of his thrusts. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body, lifting her off the bed repeatedly with the sheer force of his movements.

"Ahhh!~Ahhh!~Ahhh!~Ahhh!~ Fuck Dadddyyyy!~ Im cummiiiiing!"

As her body convulsed with the force of her orgasm, her mouth hung open in a silent scream of ecstasy, her eyes squeezed shut in blissful surrender. He continued to pound her through her peak, prolonging her orgasm as long as he could.

As Tzuyu's high began to fade, she's left panting and exhausted against Rico's chest. She gasped, "Oh my god." She collapsed, totally spent.

Rico smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You're not done yet," he declared, hooking his arms under her legs and lifting her effortlessly off the bed.

Tzuyu's heart raced as he positioned her above him, guiding her onto his throbbing length. She moans as he fills her completely.

"Fuck," she breathed, her voice ragged and tired.

Rico's smirk widened as he began to move, dropping her pussy down to his big black cock. She clawed at his shoulders, her cries of pleasure mingling with his own groans.

"Mmph~ mmph~ You like that? Hngh~" Rico grunted, his grip on her tightening.

"Yes," Tzuyu gasped, her nails digging into his skin. "D-don't stop. P-Please."

With each drop onto Rico's cock, Tzuyu felt her pussy stretching around him, accommodating his girth with a delicious sensation of fullness. Her breath caught in her throat as her puckered ass stretched along with her pussy, gravity pulling her down his cock every time.

"Fuck," she gasped, her legs tensing, her toes pointed. She couldnt even speak. His hands gripped her ass as he impaled her again and again with relentless force. 

Her arms strained, threatening to give out as Rico pounded her mercilessly, his cock plunging deep inside her with every stroke. 

"Harder," she pleaded, her voice hoarse with need. "P-please fuck me harder daddy~"

Hearing her mewling pleas, Rico shifted their position, rotating her to face front before hooking his arms under Tzuyu's legs and locking his hands behind her neck.

The idol's eyes widened at the new position. She watched helplessly as he pounded into her, carried her like a ragdoll, impaling her once tight asian pussy over and over again with his big black cock.

"Uhhh~Uhhh~Ahhh~ god yes fuck me like that daddyyy~"

He used her like the fuckdoll that she is, pounding her till her head ached, till her sweat dripped down the floor, till his arms couldn't take anymore. Then, he tossed her back into the bed.

At this point, Tzuyu's breaths were deep and labored. Her hair stuck to her face, a sheen of sweat covered her entire body.

Rico pulled her towards him by her legs, the thighwanese too tired to care. 

"I'm not done with you yet, slut." 

His fingers intertwine with her toes, spreading her legs and pinning each leg on either side of her head. He lines up his big hard cock in her pussy and slams in, intent on breeding her. She feels his hard cock stretching her out as he pounds into her, making her moan and scream in pleasure.

"Ahn~! N-no! It's too good, Daddy!" Tzuyu cries out in Korean, her voice laced with pleasure and pain. Her ass and thighs ripple as she bounces on the bed from his powerful thrusts. "Please, fill me up! Fill up your little cum dump! More~ More~ Moreeee~!"

Rico grunts in response, his eyes locked onto Tzuyu's as he takes her in the mating press. 

"You like that, don't you, you little slut?" he growls, his fingers tightening around her toes. "You like feeling Daddy's big cock stretching you out?"

Tzuyu nods eagerly, her mouth open and drooling. "Yes, Daddy! I love it when you pound me like this! Nae~ More~ More~!" she cries out, her body shaking with every thrust.

As Rico continues to pound into Tzuyu, he commands her to play with her clit. "That's it, little cum dump," he growls. "Play with your clit while Daddy breeds you. I want to see you cumming all over my cock."

Tzuyu obeys, her fingers moving to her clit as she continues to bounce and moan beneath him. Her pussy squelches and queefs with each thrust, the pleasure building inside her until she can't take it anymore.

Her long, slender legs were quivering, her infamous thick thighs were trembling, her toes spread wide and curling as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm cumming fuuuuckkk!"

"Oh god, I can't take it, Daddy!" she cries out in Mandarin. "Fuck, I'm squirting! Daddy, I'm squirting! cummin~ cummin~ cumming~! Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" Her body convulses as she comes, her pussy gushing with her juices.

Finally, Rico reaches his climax again and fills Tzuyu up with his hot cum. She screams out in pleasure, her body collapsing, shaking and continuously cumming.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elsewhere

"What do you mean you took her to the wrong place and you dont remember where? Huh?!" The godly voice of Jihyo rang throughout their shared hotel rooms, Jeongyeon barely holding her back.

"I-I w-was i-in a rush a-and I was stressed out. T-the navi app was acting u-up a-and she isn't answering our c-calls. Im sorry Jihyo Im sorry~!"

*BANG!*

A loud crash burst out the doors as an infuriated Nayeon marches up to him.

"I'll only ask you this one time. Where. Did. You. Drop. Our. Baby. Off. Ill give you one hour to find the place before I take this matter into my own hands."

She storms off with the rest of the Twice members in tow, each one of them seeking comfort from each other.

"Yeonnie~ let's just hope and pray that she's fine." Sana says as she takes Nayeon close and hugs her tight. The members find solace in each other, and a string of sniffs and solemn cries could be heard throughout the room.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile

The casting couch mansion was filled with a different cry. 

Tzuyu was used like a sex toy and was loving every moment of it. She was sprawled eagle on the bed, already having lost count on how many times she's squirted at this point, her brain a thoroughly fucked out mess. Her eyes are permanently rolled back to her head, while her tongue was just out.

She was bred in different positions, doggy, prone bone, cowgirl, you name it all. Not a part of her body was spared of being caked with sweat and spit and cum, while her pussy was squirting over and over again, but she was so fucked out that she couldn't even react.

A thick gooey line of cum could be found dripping from her pussy down her legs and ass, and her legs and feet were shaking like crazy.

Rico wasn't spared from the consequences as well. He layed spent on the floor, drained and dehydrated, when a knock pierced his door.

*Knock Knock*

When it opened, It showed his buddies, Mandingo, Jamal, Isaiah and Jax with smiles on their faces. As the door closes once more, the last scene one could see, was the 4 men stripping off their bathrobes and turning on another camera, pointing it on Tzuyu once again.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Masterlist

[srjlvr]

[ DOUBLE BIRTHDAY ] — psh . <3

SYN. sunghoon asks you to help him buy a birthday present for his cousin….but he doesn’t even have one!

genre . fluff ! warnings . second hand embarrassed , caught in lie ! word-count . 1.2k+ ! note . im so late but happy birthday sunghoon!! my ult bias ever since the first ep of i-land<3 will write one for ni-ki soon!! this one is so rushed i don’t really like it, but maybe you could find a way to like it!!

“finally! what took you so long?” one of your coworkers asked you as soon as you entered the store.

you’re a jewelry seller, been working in the same place ever since you were young. you love your job, and love your coworkers too.

“sorry! i had some things to take care of” you said and went to get ready and start your shift.

as you got out of the workers room, you saw all of your coworkers standing outside while holding a cake, “happy birthday y/n” they cheered.

“thank you” you smiled and blow the candles.

you completely forgot that it’s your birthday today, your coworkers are always the ones to remind you, and you’re more than thankful to them, but other than eating the cake with them you’re not the person to go and celebrate on your birthday.

“what are your plans today?” one of your coworkers asked.

“finishing this shift and going to binge watch some movies” you smiled, “so boring!! go out and celebrate!!”

you shrugged them off as you saw someone familiar coming closer to you.

“sunghoon? is that you?” you asked and when you realized it’s him you waved, “hey! how can i help you today?” you smiled.

sunghoon was your classmate in college, you were good friends, but busy schedules cut you off.

you had the biggest crush on him in college, and you would definitely say yes if he ever asked you to date him, but he never did.

you spent all of your college days together, he was there for you when you needed him the most, and you promised to take care of him as long as you’re alive.

but life doesn’t always go according to your plans.

you and sunghoon share the same birth date, and you’ve spent your birthdays in college together.

you made eye contact with him and you forgot how much you missed him, all the time you spent together flashed back in your mind.

he smiled back at you and showed you his cute dimples while you tried so hard not to swoon over him.

“hey y/n! it’s been a while! how have you been?” he asked and you nodded, “nothing really changed, i’m still working here” you chuckled.

“what brought you here?” you asked.

“it’s my cousin’s birthday soon and i wanted to get him a jewelry, not something expensive and hardcore, but more like soft” he said.

“alright! let’s get to work!”

it was a bit strange for you, you can’t remember sunghoon having a cousin, but nevertheless you wanted to help him and spend some time with him.

you showed him a few jewelry which he tried on and liked a few of them, you shared full conversations which lead you to more talking and talking about whatever you had in mind.

“is that how you’re going to spend your birthday today? buying a jewelry for your cousin?” you chuckled.

“he’s very dear to me! it’s been a while since i saw him” he smiled and you nodded.

“do you think he’ll like this one or that one?” he asked, pointing at two designs that you told him you liked the most.

“what kind of a person he is?” you asked, “each jewelry has to match its owner”

“he’s shy, but really cute, also smart and pretty” he chuckled, “if you were him which one you’d pick?”

“i’d pick the bracelet, it’s really soft and not too eye catching, it matches pretty faces like yours and it’s really adding to the final touch if you ask me” you finally realized what you just said and freezed in your place.

“pretty faces like mine-“ “hey sunghoon! what are you doing here?” someone cut sunghoon off.

“jake? aren’t you supposed to be at work?” you remember jake, sunghoon used to talk about him a lot during lunch breaks, you’d laugh your ass off while listening to the funny stories sunghoon has on jake.

“i asked you a question first” jake coughed.

“i’m here to buy a jewelry for my cousin” he answered confidently, elbowing jake as if he’s trying to hint him something.

“cousin? you don’t have a cousin sunghoon what are you— o-oh” jake then looked at you and realized what was happening. he took his hand off of sunghoon’s shoulders and awkwardly giggled, “hahaha i forgot! you do have a cousin!! tell her i said hey!!”

“it’s him” sunghoon whispered, “oh yes!! tell him i said hey!” jake coughed and ran out of the store.

“i’m sorry for his—“ “so no cousin?” you crossed your arms.

sunghoon fixed his tie and awkwardly giggled, “no cousin”

“oh! you got it for yourself then? it’s your birthday after all!” you smiled, “yeah, you could say that” he nodded.

“i don’t understand” you shook your head.

“i was actually trying to find a way to talk with you” he played with his fingers, “it’s been a while since we talked, and i remember the workplace you told me you’ve been working ever since you were young”

you were a bit taken aback but you can’t deny that this man named sunghoon had such an effect on you.

you remember your college years, when you used to have the biggest crush on him, and apparently, you still have it in you.

“i didn’t know how to come up to you without sounding so weird, so i used the cousin excuse, but if i’m being honest i just missed you” he cleared his throat.

“i was actually wondering when does your shift end, and if i could finally take you out on a date” he scratched his nape.

“i’d love that, i finish in a few hours-“ “no! your shift ends now!! thank you for your hard work!!” your coworker pushed you to the workers room and closed the door after whispering a “go get your man!”

you got out of the room after you got ready and your eyes met sunghoon’s.

he was holding a box with your store’s name on it, “i know you don’t like celebrating your birthday or receiving gifts, but please accept this one, happy birthday y/n” he opened the box and you saw the bracelet you recommended him a few minutes ago.

you threw your hands on him and hugged him tightly, “i missed you so much sunghoon, happy birthday”

he hugged you back even tighter, “i missed you so much too”

“before we leave! let me get something, go wait for me outside i’ll be right back!” you said and he nodded.

you ran back to your coworker and hugged her, “thank you, i just need one last favor” you smiled and she nodded.

when you went outside to see sunghoon again, you handed him a box.

“y/n just because i bought you a present it doesnt mean you have to do it too—“ “just open it!” you pleaded and he did.

there was a bracelet that was exactly his type, the one he’d always tell you how much he wanted.

his eyes widened and he tried to fight the urge to kiss you right there and then.

“it was made a few years ago, when we were still in college, i wanted to hand it to you but i was scared, so i kept it here and swore i’ll hand it to you as soon as i get a chance” you said and he smiled, hugging you tightly again.

“i love it, thank you y/n”

“thank you for making my birthday so much better with your presence sunghoon”

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 (bold means cannot be tagged)

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[miracleonice87]

from uncle trav to killa dad

part of the kissing kelce universe

a/n: apparently she writes NFL fic now. no one is shocked. the first installment in the kissing kelce miniseries / universe! sharing the first 3,400ish words of the 8,100ish I already have written... "alright nah" 😈 hope y'all enjoy! (also, will make a masterlist for this universe specifically -- until then just use the "kissing kelce" tag)

warnings: swearing, sickness / vomiting, alcohol, mentions of menstrual cycles / unprotected sex / pregnancy / babies, allusions to not keeping a pregnancy / not being ready to have kids, basically don't read if pregnancy / having kids is triggering for you

word count: ~3,400+

___

February 2023

It was only the end of its second month, but 2023 was already one of the best years of Travis’s life. 

First off, this was the first calendar year he had ever begun as your husband, not your boyfriend or your fiancé, which still delighted him to no end, hence why he was constantly referring to you as “Mrs. Kelce,” both publicly and, his favorite, privately. Two weeks ago, he’d won his second Super Bowl after competing against his big brother and best friend, Jason – a literal childhood dream come true. And in one week’s time, he’d be hosting Saturday Night Live. Saturday. Night. Live. As in, “Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night.” As in 30 Rockefeller Plaza. As in who in the fuck was about to let him do that?!

Travis Kelce had the world on a string, you by his side, and he could not ask for more. 

Except for you to shake the illness that had been plaguing you for the last several days.

You’d always been an expert napper, but usually for no more than an hour or so; this week you’d been going to bed early, sleeping late, and napping for two or three hours at a time, and Travis was highly concerned. He didn’t like seeing you stub your toe, let alone seeing you struggle with such low energy. He had a growing feeling this was more than just you catching up on your rest after a jam-packed week of team festivities and visitors. 

This especially worried him knowing that the two of you needed to leave for New York City first thing tomorrow morning. For a normal event appearance, he’d be moving flights or changing dates, making any adjustments necessary to tend to you and make you as comfortable as possible, but he didn’t exactly have that flexibility with SNL, and he was beginning to panic a bit. 

After a Zoom call with his agents and the SNL producers walking Travis through the schedule for his upcoming rehearsal week, he flipped his laptop shut and immediately hustled up the steps to the primary bedroom, where he assumed you must still be sleeping, as he hadn’t heard any movement upstairs during his call – not even that of the dogs, who usually found their way downstairs to him when they heard his voice as he was taking calls.

Your husband couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was off. 

Travis made quick work of striding down the long hallway and sneaking into your bedroom, trying not to make the hardwood floor creak beneath his large frame as he sidled up to your side of the bed. Sure enough, he found both Rambo and Chauncey snuggled at your feet, popping their heads up when he entered the room, clearly on guard and ready to defend their sleeping mama should the need arise. He ruffled their fur upon his approach and made a mental note to reward them with treats for that later, then focused his attention back on you. 

Usually, you rested serenely on your back or side, with a single pillow beneath your head; today, you obviously couldn’t get comfortable, because you were curled into the fetal position with an arm flung between two pillows messily folded under your head, another pillow shoved between your chest and your knees. Even in your sleep, your brows were drawn together in discomfort. He hated to wake you, but his intuition was nagging at him to ensure that you were okay. As he slowly lowered himself to the edge of the bed and traced your bottom lip tenderly with his thumb, you stirred, blinking bleary eyes. 

“Hey, sweetness,” Travis whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “How’s my girl doin’?”

With his lips still resting against your skin, his hand cradling the back of your head, you groaned. You weren’t one to complain, but whatever this sickness was that you’d been dealing with was kicking your ass, and he knew it. 

“Mm, I’ve been better,” you admitted, grasping his forearm with both hands to keep him close, ever comforted by his presence and touch. “It is flu season — must just be some bug going around.” 

Travis hummed contemplatively, then broke away to peer down at you carefully. 

“Maybe, but if you’re not feeling better by tomorrow, we’re gettin’ you to a doctor, even if it’s in New York,” he announced, gently palming your stomach which had been uncharacteristically sour all day. The warmth of his touch soothed your whole abdomen like a heating pad. “Capisce?” 

“Yes, captain,” you muttered, hiding your face in his sizable bicep as he snickered. “I’m due for my period soon so that’s probably not helping either,” you added, a throwaway comment on any other day… 

But not today. 

Though you couldn’t see it, Travis’s eyes narrowed at that remark, flickering around the room wildly as his mind began to race. 

Nah, he mused silently. Couldn’t be.

But it seemed you arrived at the same possibility on your own, because seconds later, you gasped, exclaimed “oh, my fucking god!” and sat up straight, leaning your arms against his thigh for strength as the room seemed to spin around you, the dogs hopping off the bed, annoyed at the interruption of their own naps.

“Travis, what’s today’s date?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s the 28th, baby,” he said evenly. 

And with that, you flung the covers off and ran for the bathroom once again, dropping to your knees on the marble and leaning over the toilet just in time. 

As Travis followed closely after you, he knew. He couldn’t believe that, in all of the Super Bowl hype and hysteria, he had missed it up until now. It was so obvious. Your monthly visitor always arrived on the 20th of the month – when you’d asked once how he remembered to bring home Diet Cokes and chocolate-covered pretzels, items you purposely didn’t keep in the house and only indulged in when you were PMSing, on the correct day, month in and month out, Travis often teased that you were so regular, he could set his watch to you. 

He hadn’t purchased those items this month, though. Hadn’t even thought of it due to all of the post-win, postseason pandemonium.

And apparently, neither had you. 

He hastily did the math. Today was February 28th, which meant that you were now eight days late. His pulse quickened at the realization, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The Chiefs had won the Super Bowl on February 12th, and unsurprisingly, the two of you had taken every single available opportunity since then to celebrate his big win behind closed doors – even if they were occasionally car or coat closet doors. And though the chances of getting you pregnant during that window were not exceedingly high, it was certainly far from impossible – plus, he thought immediately of the many times he had teased his brother Jason about his “super sperm,” having gotten his wife Kylie pregnant every other year since they’d been married. And it was a well-known fact that the two brothers shared many genetic characteristics, including their size and their athleticism.

Maybe this particular trait was no different.

Though you were busy actively being sick, you were doing the same calculations in your head. 

Shit. Shit shit shit. You were always so careful, so meticulous, so diligent about timing your intimacy with Travis, taking extra precautions during those prime times and consistently warning him verbally when you were ovulating, as you never wanted him to feel like you were trying to “trap” him, even though you’d now been married for nearly a year. He gently poked fun at you and playfully rolled his eyes in those instances, assuring you that he, first of all, would never question your intentions regarding your relationship and, second, would be absolutely thrilled if and when that time came for the two of you. 

But in other conversations, outside the bedroom and the heat of the moment, the two of you had mutually agreed that since you yourself weren’t 100% ready to start a family just yet, you would wait. You respected Travis endlessly for that, because anyone who knew him knew how desperately he longed to become a father. But if you didn’t want that right now, that was the end of the discussion – Travis was adamant that nothing was happening in that department until you made the call.

But these past couple of weeks… there had been so much emotion, so much energy, and so much alcohol involved that admittedly, neither of the two of you had given timing or protection a second thought. All that each of you wanted was the other, and nothing – not the calendar nor visiting parents nor the prospect of arriving late to the celebratory parade nor being in Travis’s Range Rover when the desire arose – was going to keep you apart physically. You’d thrown caution to the wind as you enjoyed being in your little fantasyland bubble together, and now, reality was sinking in.

As you finally finished coughing and sputtering, Travis broke from holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail in order to pour a small cup of mouthwash and offer it to you. You graciously accepted and swished it around generously before flushing it away. As you leaned back from the bowl, he gathered you into his arms with a quiet but firm “come ‘ere.” You both sat on the tile, backs against the glass wall of the shower beside you, and he rested his cheek atop your head, looping his long arms around your waist.

“Better?” Travis inquired simply. 

You groaned, eyes falling closed as the now-familiar weariness enveloped you again. 

“Yeah…” he answered himself with a sigh, sensing your utter exhaustion. 

The two of you sat in wordless contemplation for what felt like an eternity. 

Finally, you broke the deafening silence. 

“Trav?” you croaked. 

“Yeah?”

“I think I need to take a pregnancy test…”

He tipped his head backward against the glass, guilt wracking his every cell. 

“I think so, too,” he echoed. 

After a long debate on the bathroom floor about how to go about obtaining the home tests – with Travis arguing “you wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me, so it should really be on me” against your “I’m way less likely to be recognized in the aisle of the drugstore” – you finally reached a compromise, which was to DoorDash a wide variety of tests straight to your door, avoiding the need for either of you to be seen out in public. Kansas City was a larger city with a small town feel, and most of the time, you loved that about your adopted hometown, but today, the prospect of being recognized sent your anxiety into overdrive. Photos of either of you purchasing pregnancy tests being splashed all over social media two weeks after the Super Bowl was truly the last thing you both needed, especially if it turned out to be all for nothing, a false alarm. 

So, instead, you had waited the fifteen long minutes until the bag full of tests arrived at your doorstep, peering through the blinds until the driver was completely out of sight before opening the door and retrieving the delivery. You grabbed a Solo cup from the pantry and quickly climbed the steps back up to your bedroom, where you found Travis sitting in a lounge chair, hands folded together, elbows on knees, chin to chest – obviously deep in thought. He didn’t seem to hear you coming until you purposely rustled the plastic bag. As you held it up weakly, his eyes met yours, and he offered a soft smile which seemed forced. 

Travis Kelce forcing a smile. A rarity.

“Secured the bag,” you said quietly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Literally.”

He nodded and slowly stood as you extended a hand, which he grasped in his as you headed into the bathroom together. When you reached the counter, you climbed atop it and shook out the contents of the bag, revealing half a dozen boxes of all shapes, sizes, types, and colors; contained in them were sixteen tests in total. You gazed down at them with pursed lips for a few quiet moments, then Travis cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him.

“Honey, before we do this, I just need to…” he swallowed thickly as his hands found the tops of your thighs, and you could tell that whatever he was about to say was weighing painfully heavy on him. You weren’t used to seeing him so serious, and you reached out a hand to rub his shoulder in support. “Listen… you know I’ve always been excited about the prospect of… well, not just having a baby, but having a baby with you, but… it’s really important to me that you know that we do not have to do this. Not now, not ever. Not if you don’t want to.”

The sincerity in his icy blue eyes was enough to make your heart skip a beat, and you hummed appreciatively, cupping his stubbly cheek in your hand. 

“Thank you,” you whispered as he turned your wrist to press a featherlight kiss to the inside of it. “And I can’t tell you how much I love you for that. But… one thing at a time, okay? Let me go take care of this, and we’ll go from there.”

Travis nodded, concern etched on his brow. It wasn’t an expression he commonly wore, and it certainly didn’t suit him. 

“Yeah… yeah, alright,” he said, sniffing. “You, um, you want me to stay in here with you, or…”

You shook your head, a small smile at play on your lips. 

“No, I’ve been peeing on my own since I was about two, so I’ll do that part myself and report back, captain,” you teased, and Travis offered a shy smirk. You rested your forehead against his. “Okay?”

He nodded, head still pressed to yours. 

“Okay,” he said, caressing your jaw before standing up straight to allow you to shimmy down from the counter. He took a few steps toward the door leading into the bedroom, then turned back. 

“Hey, one more thing?” he said solemnly. You stared at him expectantly. “No matter what the test says… doesn’t change how bad I fuckin’ love you.” 

You stood floored, forcing back tears. “I fuckin’ love you so bad,” you softly concurred. 

Then, your normal playful Travis was back at least for a moment as he winked at you, clucked his tongue, and pulled the door closed as he encouraged, “Do your thing, girl.”

You rolled your eyes, then “did your thing” as instructed. You returned to the counter with the plastic cup sufficiently full and opened different tests from four of the boxes that looked the most promising, meticulously following the instructions for each. You turned them all so that the windows were face-down on the counter, washed your hands, then took a deep, shaky breath before opening the door with trembling fingers to find a pacing Travis burning a hole through your bedroom floor. You said his name softly, then tilted your head in the direction of the tests, inviting him back into the bathroom with you while you waited. He met you at the edge of the tub, where he wordlessly pulled you into himself and held you there. You closed your eyes and breathed him in, more grateful than ever that you’d chosen this man as your life partner, and that he had chosen you. 

“How long we lookin’ at, sweetness?” Travis asked, resting his chin atop your head, gently swaying the two of you back and forth. 

“Longest one takes three minutes,” you answered. “Figured we’d just wait until then and check them all at once.” 

You felt him nod and check his Apple watch. He grew quiet again for a few moments, then he heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry for putting you – us – in this position, baby,” he apologized, immediately breaking your heart. “I should’ve been more responsible and mindful in the moment. I just got caught up in you and I… I just, I’m sorry.” 

You stood up straight, holding him at arm’s length, your brow creased ruefully as you realized how badly he was beating himself up over this. 

“Trav, honey, don’t,” you pleaded. “You did nothing wrong,” you assured, reaching your hand up to rest against his neck. “We both got us into this situation, and to be honest, I wouldn’t change how we got here. We could have been more careful, yeah, but… all I was focused on was being as close to you as possible. I mean, these past couple of weeks with you have been some of the best of my life. I feel closer to you than ever.”

He studied you diligently, rubbing his hands up and down your sides. 

“Yeah?”

You nodded, sliding your hand to the nape of his neck and bringing his lips to your level to kiss him softly. 

“Yeah,” you whispered in reply. 

He drew in a deep breath and squeezed your waist. 

“‘Bout ready to check?” he asked timidly. 

You nodded, arms falling back to your sides. 

“Do it together?” you requested hopefully. 

He nodded, too. 

“Just like we do everything else,” he replied with conviction, taking your hand in his and pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles. “Let’s go.” 

Hand in hand, you approached the counter, four eyes boring into the upside-down test sticks. 

“You take two, I take two?” he suggested. You nodded, biting your lip and grasping the two sticks closest to you as he did the same. 

“Ready? One…”

“Two…”

“Three…” 

Both of you flipped the cheap plastic tests at once, gaping silently down at the counter.

For the past hour since you’d realized you’d missed a period, anxiety, nerves, and even dread had been coursing through your body at the speed of light.

But as soon as you saw those test results, inexplicably, the fear, the worry, the anxiety, the anticipation… it all melted away. The little blue plus sign and the pink double lines and the blinking “YES +” and the word “Pregnant” all laid out in front of you unmistakably brought an unexpected swell of peace and joy to your soul. 

Travis’s hand flew to his mouth as he processed the results himself, and his fingers didn’t leave his lips as his eyes stayed fixed on you in quiet anticipation, refusing to react in the way that came naturally to him until he allowed you to react in your own authentic way. 

So, when you looked up at him with your chin quivering, eyes rimmed red, tears threatening to spill over at any moment, his heart flipped inside his chest, then sank into his stomach…

But then you smiled. 

“Looks like we’re having a Super Bowl baby,” you told him decidedly, starting to giggle. 

His brows shot to the top of his forehead, his hand slowly falling away from his mouth. 

“Really? You want to?” he asked softly, and you could tell by his tone that he was still focusing all his energy on suppressing his pure, unadulterated excitement. You nodded. “You’re sure this is what you want?” he confirmed, cocking his head as he surveyed you closely. You nodded again and stepped closer so that your feet were planted between his, leaning your body into him. 

“I’m sure, Trav,” you promised as he tenderly combed some of your hair behind your ear. “I honestly wasn’t sure until we flipped the tests over, but… I’m sure. I’m ready for this with you, Travis. It feels right. Let’s have a baby.”

At that, he allowed the floodgates to open. His broad shoulders began to wrack with quiet sobs as his arms folded you against his chest. You cried along with him, sharing in his relief, his elation, his bliss. 

“I love you so much,” he choked out between shuddering breaths. “Fuck, I love you so much. You’re everything to me. You always have been, but this… this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you.” 

You smiled into his pecs, sniffling. “I love you, too,” you replied, pulling away just far enough so that you could meet his eyes. He wiped away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as you continued. “Thank you for the way you handled this. There’s nobody I’d rather do this with than you.”

Travis beamed and leaned in for a kiss, certain that he’d never received a more meaningful compliment, and certain that he had never been more in love with you.

[tkpuke]

Sweet Tranquility

Pairing -Lee!Lucifer x Gender Neutral Reader

Word count - 1,293

In which Lucifer seems to be falling back into the unhealthy obsession of creating rubber ducks, which takes a toll on his sleep schedule and your relationship. You’re the only one who knows him best, so you pull out a trick that gets him to calm down and feel loved all at the same time.

This is a tickle fic. Do not read if that’s not your thing.

The clock was nearing 2 AM, rain being heard pitter-pattering on the window. It was another restless night for you, tossing and turning in your sleep to find that perfect comfy position that’ll knock you out. In the middle of your tossing and turning, you mindlessly search for Lucifer, something to hold and cuddle into since you begin to shiver a bit.

A few seconds go by, and you open your eyes to see he was yet again, not in bed. You sigh, but more in annoyance, knowing this is the third night in a row where he hasn’t been in bed, leaving you all alone. In the morning you’ve tried asking him what he’s been doing awake so late, and he eases your worries by saying he had only gone to use the bathroom. You never went out to go see for yourself, wanting to believe him. However, this night you had a gut feeling you should go search for him. Because unless he has a weird bathroom schedule he didn’t tell you about, you’re starting to call bullshit on him going off to use it every night around 2 AM, and he doesn’t even come back until an hour or two go by.

You treaded quietly down the hall, seeing if you could hear where exactly he was at. Your ears picked up on slight noise coming from the living room, and when you got a little closer you saw light shining from there. As you peeked your head in, that’s when you saw Lucifer sitting down near the coffee table, focusing on painting a rubber duck. Beside him seemed to be twenty more jumbled together, all in different colorful outfits and top hats.

“Lucy?” You called out, causing him to jump slightly from not expecting you to be awake. He immediately starts stuttering, searching for an explanation. “Oh! Y/N- I uhh- haha was just uhm..” His eyes dart around the room, fixing onto the huge grandfather clock that touches up the living room just perfectly, cluttering all the ducks under the rug as if you haven’t spotted them already.

“..I was on my way to the bathroom, per usual! As I noticed this beautiful babe of a clock we have here.” He rubs his chin in thought, looking over his shoulder at you. “Did you know we always had this?” Lucifer nervously laughs, the stutter making its appearance again when you gave him eyes of worry. “In the- er uh- house we’ve been practically living in for many years…”

All you did in response was take his hand into yours, the other finding its way to caress his cheek and then he broke.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Y/N. I promised it wouldn’t get this bad again, and I… well- I’m just so-“ you bring him into a hug to shush him, rubbing his back comfortingly. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about this right now. Let’s just go back to bed, okay?”

Lucifer nodded as you two walked back, hands interlocked. Getting into bed at the same time, moving around into a comfy position and settling with facing each other as your heads slightly bump together. Silence fills the room, almost passing out right then and there until you hear some shuffling.

You try to ignore it, assuming Lucifer wasn’t comfortable enough and was moving a little bit. Although the shuffling continued, making you sit up and look down at him. “Is everything alright?”

“I can’t sleep.” He says with a huff, staring up at the ceiling defeatedly.

This wasn’t your first rodeo where Lucifer couldn’t have sleep fall upon him. He always struggled becoming tired at the appropriate time, so it led you to come up with some ideas to help him.

“Do you want me to make you a hot drink?” You first suggested, something that always helps you knockout yourself. Lucifer shook his head, letting out a sigh. “No, that won’t do.”

“A massage, maybe?”

“Those never work.”

“How about watching a little bit of Tv?”

“We’ll accidentally stay up all night if we do that.”

You sit back on the bed headrest, forgetting how difficult he could be. It was like taking care of a child rather than your significant other.

That was until a lightbulb suddenly shined in your mind, a smile slowly forming, one he couldn’t see from how dark the room is, the city lights barely shining through the curtains to make some sort of visibility.

“Actually, I think I know what might do the trick.” The sound of your voice sounded more mischievous than comforting, which caused Lucifer to look over but let out a yelp of surprise from you straddling his waist in a quick second.

“What are you doing— H-HEHEY!” His question got cut off with a strangled giggle, your hands finding their way up to his underarms, going straight for the kill so soon.

As funny as it sounds, tickling was one of what seems like the only methods that helped tired out Lucifer. You can’t remember how exactly you stumbled upon this discovery, but what you do know is how he never complains because he secretly enjoys the thrill of it all. You tried getting him to admit it at one point, but you didn’t get far.

“Nohoho, wait! Wait!” Lucifer snapped his arms down but at the same time trying to grab at your wrists, but he didn’t pull them away. You both knew he had the strength to do so, but you’ll never comment on why he never does. The reason was clear as day.

No matter how many ‘please!’s or ‘stop!’s he throws at you, it all meant the opposite. “Y’know, times like these it makes it hard to believe you’re the ruler of Hell.” You teased, digging in his underarms a little deeper to pull out that snort he does. You weren’t left disappointed, him snorting as his hair becomes more unraveled with each shake of his head.

“I’ll shohow you once I’m FREHEHEE!” A squeal escapes him the minute you latch onto his thighs, the spot you go to when he gets snippy. Fingers find their way to his inner thighs, squeezing in a fast pace. “Lets see if you have enough energy once we’re finished, yeah?” You scoffed, almost nearly getting bucked off but you still had a firm grip on his thighs.

Thighs would be rank one for one of his most ticklish spots, his underarms being a close second. It takes only a few seconds for his laughter to become hoarse and silent, which has already happened, causing you to go slow and skitter your nails around his neck. You smiled at the sight of his cheeks becoming a more vibrant shade of red than it usually is, being a giggly mess and trying to trap your fingers under his chin.

“Ohohokay, I’ll sleheheep! I’m tired! I swehear!” He desperately pleas. His breathless state was convincing enough, but if there’s one thing you learned from all the times Lucifer tickled you, it was to be a little shit.

“Hmm, are you sure?” You left pokes all around his stomach, watching each poke earning you quiet giggles. He moves his hands away from your wrists up to your hands, and you let him. “Yehes, now leave me alohone.” You planted a kiss on his cheek, finally moving off of him. “Never.”

You tucked yourself back in bed, looking over to realize he is still giggling. “You do know I stopped, right?”

“Shut the hell up.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “It worked though. You can barely keep your eyes open now.”

Lucifer moved to lay on his side, a hand caressing your cheek. “It did, thank you.”

“I love you.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Velvet Love 🔞

The things he says never match the smile he's got on his lips.

Tags/Warnings: Yandere AU, Idol!Jungkook, graphic description of gore (briefly), twisted kook, description of mental insanity

Length: Short

Belongs to: Velvet Heart (but can be read as a standalone)

!! Disclaimer: I do not believe Jeon Jungkook to be like this, God no. This is pure fiction and meant to be seen as nothing but entertainment. Thank you.

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"Alright how long will it be?" Jungkook asks as everyone gets ready for the shoot. "I really need to be home by 6 tonight, latest, or I might have to murder someone this time." He chuckles, voice light as he taps away on his phone, the stylist's hands stuttering a bit as everyone glances away uncomfortably from the idol. "What? Am I not getting an answer?" He asks innocently, looking around.

"I-we can't tell yet how long it'll take." The director says. "But we'll try and get it done as quickly as we can." He hurries out at the eye contact Jungkook holds with the man, dark orbs unmoving as they focus on the older man silently.

Before the singer smiles.

"No problem, I just don't wanna go home so late again." He shrugs, slumping down into his seat a little.

He's in a good mood today. That's not the norm- no one can really ever tell what kind of emotions go through him each day. While he used to be like this almost all the time back when he was younger, something had changed these days. Now, no one can tell if the words he says are to be taken as a joke, or as a threat.

Sometimes, like today, it feels like nothing's wrong again. As if the old Jungkook had returned, wiping away all the scary and unnerving changes that happened over the course of the last few years away, turning those things into nothing but a bad dream.

The shooting is fun. Everyone's light hearted again. The air feels easy.

"You think the challenge will be easy for you?" A staff member asks Jungkook in the back of the car as they all play a game of hide and seek in a way. He's supposed to find the rest of the members with small cues and nothing else. He chuckles.

"Easy." He laughs. "I'm good at games like these. No one gets away from me." He chuckles, and again, the mood shifts for a second.

He smiles. He's teasing, joking- probably. But no one is able to not hear any underlying implications He might be putting into his words.

So when the shooting ends, and its barely 5, Jungkook grins brightly as he leaves to go home.

And only then does anybody dare to breathe freely again.

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"Do you think he'd ever..." Jimin mumbles, sitting with the rest of the band backstage as they eat something, Jungkook not attending as usual. He's almost always rushing home to you right after his schedule, never staying behind for longer than necessary as if he'd run out of oxygen to breathe if he was to be apart from your presence for too long. "..I- you know what I mean, right?" Jimin says quietly, and Namjoon sighs.

"I'd like to believe he wouldn't." Hoseok says lowly. "I want to.. believe he wouldn't do that." He says, but he's not believing it.

But he, as well as others, have seen what Jungkook is capable of.

He choked Taehyung before, to the point of the singer's face turning blue. Jungkook doesn't shout, doesn't yell, never seems to voice out his anger, but rather acts on it instead. He breaks furniture, smashes holes into walls, but his favorite is always to hurt. He does it with such a calm nature that it's truly unnerving to see.

It eliminates any way of truly telling if he's ever joking or honest when he tells one of his more twisted jokes.

"But I think we're all aware that he's very much capable of it." Namjoon says with a lot more control than the others. "No one's ever safe around him. You've heard how he talks; at this point, I believe every word he tells about violence." He explains. He knows Jimin is worried for you- after all, he's the only one who ever had any true interaction with you- he knows the singer feels for your safety, wants to somehow get you out of your situation.

But he also needs to remember that if Jungkook ever found out about this, he'd probably be a dead man.

"Dont you think we should do something then?" Jimin says, just like Namjoon had expected.

"The only thing you can do is not think about it." Seokjin offers soberly. "Then it'll hurt less."

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You're beginning to try and speak more, and Jungkook worries it might become a problem at some point.

He can't have you babble about what goes on behind closed doors to others after all- what if you tell someone your address by accident, or how he's bought you a collar with a tracking device just to check where you go each day?

Of course, technically, he doesn't need it. You never leave the house after all, because you're just a good girl like that- and because the stories he tells you have made you afraid enough to never dare set foot beyond the apartment door ever. He doesn't ever make his stories too gruesome- mainly because he knows it'll make you a little too clingy, so he always depicts himself as the immortal God that cannot be harmed by any of the things he makes up. But you can be killed. You're mortal. A bag of flesh, ready to be devoured by the beasts that roam the streets outside of the safety of these walls.

You need him to survive. And he needs you to believe that.

He enjoys that you don't speak much. The noises you make and the gestures you've created to communicate are nothing shy of adorable to him after all, and any progress at proper human communication would ruin that feature of you for him. He doesn't want that- you're perfect just like this, like a pet, simply existing for him only, surviving because he wants you to.

You're alive because he allows it.

"I'll be home the entire week baby." He hums to you on his chest. "They've kept me hostage for way too much recently. I'll be with you for the entire week, I promise." He says, and you just smile, mesmerized by whatever he's saying. "You've got no idea what I'm telling you, stupid little thing?" He chuckles, and you smile as well, happily receiving his affection.

He loves it like this.

And he'll do everything and anything to keep it this way.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Would he ever kill? Truly take a life so it never returns?

He doesn't know. He's never been pushed to that degree to find out if he's capable of it. But he knows, he sometimes gets the somewhat of an urge - if not himself, then his brain rather comes up with sick and twisted thoughts of you.

His mind starts to bend memories of you into shapes unfamiliar, his hands no longer holding yours but rather bending you over his thigh until your spine cracks and breaks in half.

He gets scared of these thoughts. It's like they're not his.

He becomes fearful whenever he dreams of your chest split open by his own hands, fingers tracing each of your exposed ribs while he can't see anything but red. He knows you'd been broken before, mentally at least. Would he end up being the one to break you physically?

Maybe it's his fear of possibly losing you.

He makes love to you painfully slowly, carefully, and yet he sometimes can't help himself but to make you up as his. Never to the degree of inflicting true damage, but just to show his own actions are still under control.

He's a rabid animal, a pet once loved but now sick and deseased, truly on the verge of wasting away.

And no one around him wants to admit it.

Not while there's still traces of the old him inside.

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[wildlife4life]

Fuck-It Friday Coda

Tagged by @try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @buddierights @wikiangela @tizniz @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @cal-daisies-and-briars @disasterbuckdiaz @rainbow-nerdss @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley and @watchyourbuck (because she just dropped a whole ass spec fic that is amazing!) Still barely Friday here, so I am not late to Fuck-it Friday and staying on my coda drop schedule. Here is my 7x03 coda! Enjoy here and on ao3! If you want to know when these codas drop, interact with this post!

They each give Bobby and Athena one last tight hug on the boat before stepping onto dry land and make their way towards the LAFD suv parked close by. Hen walked beside them for a short while, exchanging another round of thanks, praises, and reminders of being there for each other. When she spots Karen breaking away from crowd of concerned loved ones and onlookers, Hen waves them forward and goes to greet her wife.

Its almost lunch time by the time Buck, Eddie, and Chimney make it back to station, and they are all dead beat tired and starving. Chimney tries to invite them for a celebratory lunch but its cut off by jaw cracking yawn that has Eddie and Buck wincing, then echoed by their own.  The paramedic chuckles and the just as slap tired firemen join in. “Breakfast at the usual place tomorrow?”

Eddie just hums in agreement, while Buck smiles and answers, “Definitely. Let Hen know?”

“Can’t celebrate without the woman of the hour. Hopefully now she’ll pick up the phone.” Soft laughter follows, “Alright boys, I’m off to put my blackout curtains to the test. I suggest you do the same.” Chim mock solutes them both and strides out of the locker room.

Buck stuffs the sea drenched uniform into his duffle and pulls on a too cool, green hoodie.  The lack of warmth from the material on his still damp skin and adrenalin come down has him shivering.

He already knows what dreams await him when (if) he closes his eyes to sleep. A mix of Bobby and Christopher drowning in the harsh waves of the ocean, screaming for Buck to save them and him failing to do so before being pulled under himself.  

A chill shoot’s up his spine so piercing, it has Buck inhaling sharply and flinching forward with both hands, slamming his locker close. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie whip around and drop his own duffle as he scurries over to Buck’s side.

Warmth finally seeps into Buck with the press of Eddie’s hand to his shoulder and the shivers lessen. “Hey, hey it’s okay. Everyone is okay.” Eddie soothes, his breath ghosting the back of Buck’s neck, warming him further.

Buck takes a deep breath, “I know that, Eddie. Just…” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to get rid of Bobby and Christopher’s waterlogged features.

Eddie’s grip tightens but doesn’t let the silence of Buck’s loss of words linger for long. “Bobby’s place is on the way to the diner, so we can stop by in the morning.”

Buck cocks his head in confusion, “Um, I know your tired and all Eds, but Bobby’s place is definitely a detour to the diner from my place.”

“Good thing you’re coming back to mine then.” Eddie states with no room argument and a little bit of the tight fear in Buck’s body seeps out. Eddie’s house means he can physically see Christopher is safe and nowhere near the turbulent waves they pulled themselves out of just a few hours ago.

“Okay.” He agrees, then softly adds on, “Thank you.”

Eddie pats his shoulder, “Don’t thank me for having your back.”

🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️

Christopher is well into school by the time Eddie and Buck make it back to the Diaz household. Buck has to take a few deep breaths outside the kid’s empty room, reminding himself that he’ll see him in less than four hours. Eddie gives him a sympathetic and understanding grimace before shoving him towards the bathroom.

The heat of the shower washes away the remaining chill and ocean salt clinging to his skin, replaced with the comforting scent of Eddie’s products, a mix of citruses and cedar. A pair of gray athletic shorts, fuzzy blue socks, and his blue sweatshirt that has been missing since before Buck’s lightening coma, are waiting for him on the bathroom counter when he open’s the curtain.

Buck pulls on the items of clothing and is taken by surprised by their enveloping warmth. His heart squeezes in his chest, knowing Eddie must have tumbled the clothes in the dryer while he showered.

Making his way back to the living room, Buck finds the older man lounging on the couch in a pair of cut off sweats and another one of Buck’s missing sweatshirts, this one dark green. “Are you the sweatshirt thief?” Buck accuses light heartedly, flopping down next to said thief and pressing into his side, shoulder to thigh.

Eddie shrugs, unbothered and unapologetic, “Cheaper than buying my own.”

Buck gaffs in mock offense but doesn’t even argue or hide how much he likes seeing Eddie in his clothes. Just another thing the man does that soothes Buck’s shaken nerves.

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Buck wraps his arms around them then drops his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. Without hesitation, Eddie’s head falls to rest on his still damp hair. “Thank you for the clothes and bringing me here… for having my back.” Buck whispers.

He feels Eddie’s head turn slightly to nuzzle his nose into Buck’s curls.  His partner’s lips brush against Buck’s scalp as he speaks, “Last time I’m saying this, you don’t need to thank me for any of it.  That’s not how it works for us.”

Buck lets out a slow breath, “Yea…. I know, but that will never stop me from appreciating you and everything you do. I will never not be grateful that you have my back.”

“Well,” Those lips drift downwards to Buck’s temple, Eddie’s voice sending delicate vibrations across the skin and muscle and casting a whole different kind of shiver through Buck’s body, “I’m just as appreciative and grateful for you too.”

Buck doesn’t quite know if he imagines it, with how he has been drifting to sleep since falling to the couch, but he hopefully believes he felt the firm press of Eddie’s lips to his temple that lingered past platonic.

And when he feels Eddie’s breaths even out across the top of his head, Buck can hear the echo of their gratitude and appreciation fade into discreet exchanges of I love you’s.  Those echoes with Eddie’s warmth, keep the nightmarish tides away, allowing Buck to truly rest.

Very belated tagging: @theotherbuckley @perfectlysunny02 @aroeddiediaz @loserdiaz @diazsdimples @jesuisici33 @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @buck-coded @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @sunshinediaz @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @thebloomingheather

[gay-wh0re-slut]

Hi! Can you write some angst + NSFW ending with the prompt

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you? This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”

oooohohohohooo this is a good oneeee

idk if i can think of a way of ending with this but maybe somewhere in the beginning or middle/end ish? i hope that’s alright? it’ll still be angsty tho don’t worryyyy (i hope) hehe but thank you for the request!!

after writing: i kinda broke up what you wanted to be said and added a few things, i hope that’s okay

Please

content: rhea ripley x fem reader, angst, NSFW but pretty vanilla unfortch :/ sorry friends

Working backstage at WWE has its perks: getting to talk with the superstars, seeing how everything is put up and taken down, getting to go behind the scenes of the show; but it also has its downsides. You’re up late at night after the show taking everything down, cleaning up after everyone, making sure everything is put back in its place in the trucks to move to the next city. You’re always tired because of the schedule they have you on. Very rarely do you get time for yourself so you haven’t even thought of trying to have any kind of relationship.

Lately, you’ve been a bit on edge. Is it the lack of sleep? Probably. Is it the crush you have on THE Rhea Ripley when you swore to yourself you would never date a coworker? Most likely.

You’ve never voiced that you had this, but a lot of your coworkers have told you multiple times that you suck at hiding it. The way you stumble your words around her, or how your face gets red when she’s brought up in conversation, or how you refuse to talk to or about her in case of messing everything up. You’ve never had a crush last this long and it was eating you alive. It was hard to work sometimes because you would just stare, she was so captivating.

Unfortunately, one day the goth wrestler caught you staring and decided it would be a good idea to talk to you. “Hey, (y/n), you alright?”

“Huh?” your face became red, “oh yeah sorry, got caught in a daze.”

“Don’t apologize, I can tell you’re tired,” she sounded so caring, this was not helping your case, “they work you all too hard back here.”

You nervously laugh it off, “yeah, but that’s show biz.”

“Tell me about it,” she sighs, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, psshh! Yeah totally,” you wave her pity away landing your hands on your hips.

“I know I’m scary looking but I’m always here if you want to talk. I know how it can be, trust me,” she takes out her phone, “let me get your number in case you want to chat.”

Oh god, oh fuck.

“Y-yeah for sure,” you hesitate grabbing the phone. You shake as you type your number in, you see that she already has your name typed out with the bubbles emoji next to it. “Why the bubbles?”

“You’re always bubbly,” she says casually with a small smile.

“Right,” you smile as you hand back the phone, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“Checking up on me.”

“Us tired people gotta stay together,” she laughs, “I’ll see ya around, yeah?”

“I’ll be here!” You give her a weak thumbs up as you watch her walk away.

“God,” you groan as you begin to fan yourself. You got nervously hot trying to muster up any sort of coherent sentence. Hopefully you didn’t sound too weird, you kinda blacked out for a second. “My number?!” you whisper to yourself, “that’s crazy.”

You could barely think about anything else the rest of the day constantly checking your phone to see if she texted you. Luckily, nothing happened. You were relieved when you went to the hotel that night and saw that she hadn’t texted you because that meant you couldn’t mess it up. You kept telling yourself that this was a silly crush that will go away soon…but you’ve said that for the past three months.

You didn’t realize the time until you heard your phone ding at 2:43am.

hey, it’s rhea

Of course her texts are all lowercase. You lay staring at the screen. Do you answer? Do you lie tomorrow and say that you actually fell asleep?

hey! what’s up

You decide to text back, what’s the use in lying, you thought.

i knew you’d be awake

you caught me

these hotel beds aren’t the best for people who can’t sleep huh

idk mine’s pretty comfy

Was that flirting? You weren’t sure, but hopefully she didn’t take it that way. The last thing you need is for her to start having a crush on you.

damn, you’re lucky. maybe i should come sleep with you then haha

Oh no, what do I say? Yes? Is she joking? Surely she’s just joking…fuck.

if i’m lucky again, maybe the next hotel we can share a room

Oh yeah good save…totally not flirting.

sounds like a plan

good. well i’m going to try to sleep hopefully

me too, we both have a long travel day tomorrow

goodnight ripley

sleep well (y/n)

You’ve only just realized that you’ve been cheesing at your phone this whole interaction. She’s taken over your entire being.

It was now 3:15am and you had a flight at 7:30am, so you might as well just lay there with your eyes closed in hopes of getting some sort of rest.

The week has passed, it was Monday again. Though the show starts at seven at night, crew had to be there at ten in the morning to make sure everything was ready before the stars showed up at two. You and Rhea hadn’t texted much, just some hello’s here and there with a few how’s your day’s, though she was on your mind constantly.

As the time drew closer and closer for the australian to walk through the door, you avoided that door at all costs. You tried to do anything to get you away from her path to her dressing room. Sweeping, wiping, snacking, literally anything.

“How’s the bed?” her accent flew threw the air behind you.

“W-what?” you turn around quickly.

She meets your gaze and stops a few feet in front of you with her little booty shorts and big tshirt, no makeup with her beefy arms crossed, “did you get lucky?”

You widen your eyes as you were taken aback, trying to process what she just said for a good few seconds before you realize what she was talking about, “oh!” you sigh in relief, “sorry! Yeah, no, got the lumpiest in the whole building probably,” you chuckle.

“Damn, seems like we switched sides this time around-,” she smirked.

You cut her off before anything else could happen, “Ha! I guess so,” you take a carrot from the snack table and chomp down, “I- uh… gotta go mop… th-the back hallway, see you later!” you lied. You basically ran away from her. You’ve already mopped that hallway… twice. Something about her in the shorts and tshirt made you so nervous.

Time went on, the show went on, the audience left, and luckily you’ve avoided the buff goth the whole night successfully.

“Hey, (y/n), Rhea’s looking for you. She’s in her room,” one of the PA’s said, nervously, “she seems a bit upset.”

Oh no, was all you could think. Repeating it in your head with every step, getting louder and louder, until you finally reached her door. You take a long deep breath before knocking lightly.

“It’s open,” she yelled through the wood.

So you walk in, closing the door behind you, you stand right behind the threshold not wanting to go any closer. She was already back in her tshirt, but this time she was wearing sweatpants. Her makeup was still on though with her hair rough with sweat.

“Are you avoiding me?” she asked bluntly.

“No,” you answer a little too quickly.

“You sure? Cause it sure does seem like it,” her arms crossed with anger.

“I’m pretty sure,” you lie again.

“Then why haven’t I seen you all day?” she sneaks closer to you.

“I’ve been…working, it was busy today,” you step back.

“You just so happened to be extra busy today,” she stood wide in front of you, basically pushing you against the door.

You couldn’t think, she was so close you could smell the faint cologne she put on earlier that was left on the shirt. You settle for a small nod, holding your breath, hoping she would take that as an answer.

She didn’t, “I don’t believe you,” she growled.

“Well, I-”

“What? You think you can be friendly one day and the next you just completely ignore me?” she threw her hands up in surrender before landing them on her hips.

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute, you could barely breathe, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t thin-”

“Yeah, you didn’t think. You didn’t think how I would feel, did you?” she stepped back a little as she turned away from you shaking her head.

You didn’t dare say anything.

A few moments passed of her staring at the wall with her jaw clenched and you plastered to the door deciding whether or not to make a run for it.

She dropped her chin to her chest with a big sigh, “look,” she started calmly, which was scarier than earlier somehow, “being me,” she gestured towards herself turning back to you, “it’s hard to make friends, so when you were one of the only people that were nice to me I thought we had something going.”

“Rhea…” you drop your guard, but only a little.

“Please,” she held her hand up and you shut your mouth immediately. “I try so hard to be nice to everyone. I’ve been betrayed so many times it’s hard to let the walls down.”

Now you’re the one stepping towards her in hopes of creating some sort of comfort.

“I don’t want to be let down again,” she admits.

“I understand,” you whisper.

She didn’t take the comfort, “How could you? Everyone loves you! I’ve never seen you not make a friend. You’re so nice and caring,” her voice raised again. “So when you didn’t talk to me all day, I knew it was something I did. And I can’t bare to have another ‘friend’, ” she air quoted, “leave me because of…me.”

Your heart sank at her words. You did think of her as a friend except you wanted her to be more than a friend, which was the problem. You scoured your brain thinking of something to say that would make her feel better, until it clicked.

“You think I wanted this to happen?” you finally say.

“What?” she barks.

“I like you, Rhea, a little too much actually,” your heart was beating indescribably fast.

She just stared in surprise.

“You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?”

“In lov-” she began to question.

“This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you. I would’ve gotten too close and I was afraid that you wouldn’t love me back,” you finally admit with a sigh. Your eyes begin to form tears but you try your best to suck them back in.

The purple eyeshadow blinks. Without a second thought, she rushed towards you grabbing your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. After a few seconds, you push her away. Piercing blue eyes were just as surprised as yours as if she didn’t know she was going to do that either.

Still holding your jaw, “I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t hav-”

You pull her back in by her waist to kiss her once more. Your lips moving gracefully against hers. You knew the black lipstick was smearing, but you couldn’t care less. She gently walked you backwards towards the door with a small push to pin you against it. One of her hands found its way to your back pulling you in as close as possible. Heavy breaths filled the room as lips continued to dance.

Her hand sneaked its way to the button of your pants, “can I…” she panted.

You nod your head, “mhmm,” you whine, as you go back to kissing her.

She swiftly undoes the button and sneaks her hand in, but not in your underwear. She was gently caressing your center, when small moans fell out of you. Her free hand grabbed your neck and tilted your head to the side to allow her to kiss your neck, leaving black marks as she went.

“Is this okay?” the accent whispered.

“Yess,” you breathe, “do whatever…you want to me.”

“Oh?” she kisses up your neck between words, “how about…I just… give you a taste… of what could happen…then later…I’ll show you…what I can really do,” by now her pace has quickened and the familiar knot in your stomach is quickly being untangled.

You could only nod your head in response, not wanting to moan too loud in fear of someone hearing you from the other side of the door. Your lips catch hers once more as you whine into her mouth.

It didn’t take long for you to almost come undone. Your hips were slightly riding her hand as she moved perfectly against you, “that’s it, love, don’t hold back,” she held your neck a little harder than gentle, secure against the door.

The oxygen left your lungs and the knot finally loosened as you slammed your head against the door. “Fuuuck,” you moan. Your legs were weakening by the second as she tried her best to hold you up. You scratched your way down her back as she chuckled in your ear at the slight pain.

As you came back to earth, your lips met hers a few more times before she removed her hand and buttoned your pants back up for you.

She let you catch your breath still holding you against the door but her hands were now at your waist with most of her body flush with yours. “Now, do you want me to come to your room or you come to mine?”

“I thought you had the nice bed this time,” you breathe.

“Oh yeah,” she smirked knowing what the answer was already, “my room it is then. See you there,” she kissed you once more before removing herself from you. She grabs her bags and gestures towards the door.

You open the door and let her through, following behind her. “I’ll meet you at the hotel, I have to grab my stuff,” you walk the opposite way.

“Don’t take too long, or we’ll be up all night,” she winked towards you.

“See you soon, Ripley.”

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Never Say Never

Chapter 15

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 8.5K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Far later than she’d expected, you pulled into the driveway of your home. Dinner and coffee had turned into a stroll down the street to the local bar, The Stumble Inn, where the owner, Dan, loved a good play on words. A couple drinks, a lot of conversation, and quite a bit of laughter later, you'd all finally said your good nights, all of you heading off to your own vehicles for home. 

The boys were probably already asleep considering it was pushing eleven. That was alright. The four of you were planning on a bike ride tomorrow afternoon so if Steve wanted, he could always just leave Jeremiah there. No point in waking the kid to drag him home simply to bring him back again. 

Opening the front door, you stepped inside to find Steve on the couch, a rerun of Who’s the Boss playing on the tv. He turned to look over at you, his arms propped behind his head, giving you one of those glaringly bright smiles that made you feel like you needed to shield yourself, to bring a hand to your eyes to protect them. 

“Hey.”

Dropping your purse on the table by the door, you made your way into the living room, smiling down at him. “Hey. Sorry I’m so late. We completely lost track of time.”

“That’s alright. I was expecting it. I told you that you were going to be later than you thought. Robin and Nancy love to talk. And with you being all shiny and new, they had endless things to ask you, I’m sure.”

Steve pushed himself up to sitting with his legs still out in front of him, opening his arms to you. You happily accepted his invite, your body liquefying into him when his arms came around you, pulling you into the warmth of his chest. Sighing contentedly, you wound your arms around his waist curling your legs underneath you, relieved that the awkwardness of earlier appeared to be forgotten.

“They should get jobs as interrogators. They definitely threw the book at me. I don’t know if there’s anything they don’t know about me at this point,” you joked, “including the unfortunately mortifying third grade talent show story.”

“Ohh, do tell. I’m intrigued now.”

“No. That one is better left unshared. Trust me. I don’t know why I even told them. I think your friends have some kind of superpower. I was running off at the mouth, story after story. I couldn’t seem to make myself stop. To be fair, they were shooting questions at me so fast I barely had time to stop and think. I’m stuck being friends with them forever now, you know. They have far too much dirt on me. Way too much they could blackmail me for. I fear I’ve made a grave mistake.”

Steve’s laugh rumbled beneath you, his fingers slipping into your hair, thumb pressing into your skin as it slid over the back of your neck. Your eyes slipped closed, your body practically humming under his touch. His other hand moved under your chin, lifting your face to his and a soft moan escaped you when his lips found yours, gently, tenderly. 

You would never tire of his mouth, his touch, the way it set you aflame every single time. You wanted him in a way that was borderline dangerous. The way you wanted him was all consuming, like a fire raging through a forest, turning everything to ash in its wake. If it weren’t for the boys, you were certain you would lose your job because you would do nothing but spend hours in bed with this man. 

But there were the boys to consider. It was hard to concentrate on that fact when Steve’s tongue was exploring your throat, his hand slipping under your shirt. Fingertips made rough from working with his hands teased your skin, his palms covering your breasts completely, kneading and squeezing until you were grinding helplessly against his thigh, gasping. But that little voice in the back of your head reminded you, brought you back to reality, the reality where you did not want either of your sons to walk in on this very blatant display in the middle of the living room. 

“Steve…” you rasped, struggling through the haze of desire when his lips latched onto your throat, open mouthed kisses creating a path of destruction, obliterating everything that wasn’t him. 

“Hmm?” he mumbled against your skin, rolling your nipples with his thumb and forefinger, the jolt of pleasure shooting straight to your core. 

“We can’t.” It was a whimper, a whine because you didn’t want this to stop. You didn’t want to be the responsible mom right now. You wanted to take this man straight up to your bed, caution be damned. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t. You couldn’t have him staying over, couldn’t have Eli knowing the two of you had shared a bed, not until you were certain this was something that was going to last. You couldn’t put your son through that kind of heartbreak, not after everything he’d already lost.

“Why not?” Now his hands were creeping up your skirt, each one gripping an ample amount of your ass, pressing your center right against the delicious friction of his firm thigh. 

“The boys…we can’t…the boys…”

Fuck. It was so hard to form a thought, to fight through the pleasure coursing through your very veins. His mouth teasing your earlobe, the delicious pulsing in your pussy with every press of his leg against you. You felt like a teenager. What the hell was happening to you? Were you seriously about to come just from dry humping a guy’s leg?

“But we can,” he growled, hands gripping your hips, flipping you over so your back was pressed against his chest. “Did I forget to mention they’re not here?”

“Wha…huh?” His hands slid along the insides of your thighs, pressing them open as they went. “Where are they?”

“Well, Jonathan showed up a few hours ago,” he explained, fingers slipping along the edge of your panties. “He said that Nancy had instructed him to come and get them. Repayment for me being so kind to watch them so you could go out with the girls.” One finger slid under the material, slipping through your already damp folds to toy with your clit. “They’re keeping them for the whole night so we can have some time alone. Isn’t that nice?”

“I…oh…uh-huh…”

Your head rolled back against his shoulder, that rubber band that was already stretched so thin within you stretching even more, threatening to snap at any moment as he circled, pinched, and slid over the very center of your pleasure. A rumble fell from Steve’s lips, his nose slipping over your jaw and down your neck. You were not going to last long. Not like this, not when you were already on the brink of destruction. 

“Come on beautiful,” he urged, his thumb taking over the work on your clit as he slipped one large finger inside of you. “Say my name for me. You know how much I love it when you say my name for me.”

“Steve…” The word came out choked, one simple syllable that threatened to strangle you as your muscles tensed under his touch, your body ready to shatter completely. 

“That’s my girl…wanna hear you screaming it, baby. No need to be quiet tonight.”

Oh shit. Those words…his girl, words you didn’t even know you wanted but you did. You wanted to make him say it again. You wanted to be his girl more than you'd ever wanted anything else at this moment. Everything in your world completely disappeared, shadowed by this man and the way he made you feel. 

He got what he wanted. Because as he slid a second finger inside of you, his thumb playing you like the most beautiful song ever written, his name fell from your lips over and over. A crescendo of sound that began as a gasp and rose to a scream when that band finally snapped, your body taut, shaking, before collapsing back into him in a puddle of satisfaction. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve…” you mumbled. “How are you so goddamn good…no, scratch that. I don’t want to know.”

He chuckled, arms wrapping around you, face nuzzling your hair, “Don’t worry, gorgeous, because nobody that came before you matters. They were all just practice leading up to the main attraction.” He nipped at your earlobe. “I’ve never wanted to make a girl come over and over again like I do you. The sounds you make, how beautiful you look, the way you say my name, it’s like a goddamn drug, honey. I’m completely hooked on you.”

Turning your body, you straddled him, feeling just how much he was hooked on you pressing into you. The thin fabric of his sweats and the lace of your panties was not creating much of a barrier and you fought back the urge to yank them off him and ride him right here on the couch. But not yet. There was something else you'd been wanting to do first, something that had been on your mind ever since your first encounter in her kitchen. 

“Well, if I’m a drug then so are you, Steve Harrington, because I am completely addicted to you.”

“Oh yeah?” His hands settled on your hips, a smirk on his lips. “Is this the part where you fulfill my fantasy? You’re already in the perfect position.” He bucked his hips up and you gasped, hands dropping to his chest. 

“Oh, I have every intention of fulfilling that fantasy but not just yet." Leaning forward, you caught his mouth with your own, your tongue gliding over his bottom lip teasingly. Your hands slid under the cotton fabric of his shirt, nails scratching gently down his chest, over his stomach. That little knot wound up within you again at the feel of that coarse hair against your fingers, tapering to a line leading you right where she wanted. Gripping the hem of his shirt, you tugged it over his head, tossing it across the room where it landed on a chair. 

Steve’s lower lip jutted out playfully, “This doesn’t seem fair. You still have a top on.” Acquiescing to his request, you pulled your top off, sending it the same way as his. His hands slid up your back, fingers popping open your bra expertly, slingshotting it. “Much better.” One hand gripping you between the shoulder blades, he sat up, his mouth descending on your breasts. 

“Yes…” you sighed, cradling his head against you, your hips rocking against his length once again. 

“You’re so damn beautiful…”

You smiled, pushing him back down on the couch, wiggling your body down. It was your turn to drive him crazy. Your lips moved over his jaw, down his neck, your tongue tracing a trail over the artery there before your teeth nipped at his shoulder. He grunted, hips bucking when you kept going on your journey south, mouth exploring his chest, teeth raking over his nipples. Hot, wet kisses over his stomach while your hands gathered the material of his sweats and boxers, dragging them over his thighs until his cock was free, bouncing back against his stomach. 

Your tongue ran over your lips as you settled onto your stomach between his legs. Steve’s eyes went wide, watching when you took his cock in your hand, dragging the tip of it across your lips. As your tongue darted across the already weeping slit, he hissed, head dropping back to the arm of the sofa. 

“Jesus Christ, honey.”

Bolstered by his reaction, you used your hand to raise him up, your tongue running along the vein underneath, from the base to the tip before taking him into your mouth, swirling your tongue teasingly. With a heavy grunt, his hips rose from the couch in an attempt to get more of himself in your mouth. 

Grinning around him, you continued your slow torture, only keeping the tip of him in the warmth of your mouth as one hand moved down to cradle his heavy sack, rolling his balls in your palm. 

“Fuck…oh my god…honey, please…need more…” 

His hands fisted at his sides and deciding you'd tormented him enough, you took the rest of him, as much as you could, working the base of him with your hand as you slowly worked the rest of him with your mouth. The sounds he was making, the animalist grunts and groans, the curses falling from his lips, were goddamn intoxicating. You'd never felt so powerful in your life as you did knowing you could reduce this beautiful man to a mewling mess with just your mouth and hands. 

Steve’s fingers slid in your hair, his palms cupping the back of your head as he lifted his hips to match the rhythm of your mouth. You relaxed your throat, gagging slightly as he thrust even further into your throat. He paused, as if uncertain if what he’d done was okay, but when you dug your nails into the flesh of his thigh, lowering your mouth over him again, he took the hint, thrusting once again until your nose was nuzzling the coarse hair at the base of him. 

“Shit…honey, I’m…fuck, I’m so close…fuck, stop…I…don’t wanna…not in your mouth…”

Releasing him with an audible pop, you rose to your feet, offering him your hand. He tilted his head in confusion, the look so adorable your heart tugged. How could one man be both the sexiest thing you'd ever seen and the most adorable thing you'd ever laid eyes on at the same time?

“If I’m going to ride you, let’s do it properly…in my bed.”

“Oh…yeah, okay…”

He scrambled, pulling his pants back up as he took your hand, following your lead up the stairs. You'd barely made it into the room when you slammed your hands into his chest firmly, sending him onto his back on the bed. Wasting no time, you slipped your underwear and skirt off before dragging his sweats and boxers down off his legs and onto your floor. 

The smile he gave you was so soft, so heart melting, his hands gently cupping your face when you crawled up his body, straddling his hips. He opened his mouth and your heart stuttered in your chest, terrified but also thrilled at what might come out. But just that fast he closed it again, pressing his eyes shut tight. 

Brushing away that hope that had flared and dwindled so quickly, you gripped him in your hand, slowly lowering herself down over him. Your warmth wrapped around him like a glove, welcoming him as if he belonged there. You sucked in air, your fingers slipping through the hair on his chest, your teeth biting down on your lower lip. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Steve growled as you rocked against him, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips as he met each movement. 

“Steve…Steve…Jesus Christ, Steve…” 

“You look just as beautiful as I knew you would. Come on, honey. Take what you need. You can have whatever you want. Give you whatever you want, honey.”

“Touch me,” you gasped, whimpering when his thumb found your clit, teasing as you pressed your hands into the mattress, arching your back, your muscles clenching as you came down on his cock again and again. “Yes. Right there. Oh god…so good…”

Your hips rolled into a circle and he grunted, “Yes, baby. Keep doing that. Shit.” His other hand came to your breast, squeezing, pinching, teasing, touching you just like you wanted and you moaned his name again. “Gonna come for me, beautiful?”

“Yes…so close…don’t stop…”

“Oh, I won’t, honey. Don’t worry. Look at me, beautiful. Wanna see you.” 

You struggled, working to keep pace as you pulled yourself straight, your hands gripping his shoulders for purchase. Opening your eyes, you looked down, that band in you stretching farther than should be possible as the heat in his gaze consumed you. His name ripped from your throat, so loudly you were sure the people in the next town could hear. 

Your body turned to goo, wax from a hot candle sliding down the edges of you to pool on the mattress around you. You had nothing left, your legs shaking and Steve knew, taking over for you. His hands grabbed onto your hips as he plunged himself up and into you before holding her down against him, a roar emitted through gritted teeth, painting your insides with his own release before bringing you with him as you both collapsed. 

Your cheek pressed against his sweat-slicked chest, the hair there tickling your skin softly. His fingers trailed over your back, your bodies heaving as you both struggled to catch your breath. 

“Holy shit…” he muttered. “So much better than I imagined.”

“Yeah…I…Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think I can walk.”

His rumbling laugh shook your bodies as his arms held you, rolling you so you were side by side, your body still cradled against his. His lips pressed against your forehead. 

“Good thing you don’t have to. Honey, you’re so damn amazing. I…this…” He paused, his throat moving with a hard swallow, as if he were forcing down words he didn’t want to say to leave his mouth, banishing them to the darkness where they couldn’t see the light of day. 

“Yeah?” you pressed hopefully, tilting your head back to look at him, wishing for him to say it. To say the words that had been torturing you for the last few hours, the words you were terrified to say until he did. 

“I’m just so damn happy. I have never been this happy with anyone. I…” He stopped, eyes squeezing shut. “I like you a lot.”

Your heart squeezed tightly. No, of course he wasn’t going to say those words. Hadn’t you just thought how crazy it would be to say them so soon? Of course he wasn’t feeling any of that already. 

“I like you a lot too.” You forced a smile, not wanting him to see the disappointment on your face as you nuzzled down into him, the top of your head tucked under his chin. 

___________________________________________________________

Steve blinked against the harsh sunlight coming in through the window, one hand covering his eyes to ward off the glare. Last night came back to him in a burst of images that raced over the backs of his eyelids. The warmth of your mouth, the sight of you above him, your hair falling down your back, the gentle smile that curved your lips up on each side as you fell asleep nestled against his chest, your fingers toying with the coarse hair there as you hummed contentedly. 

Rolling his head, he looked down to find you still there but at some point in the night you'd both moved. Now your back was nestled against him, your ass pressed deliciously against him, explaining why he’d woken up with an erection. Winding his arms around you tightly, his lips explored the curve of your shoulder, the hollow of your throat, delighted when you moaned softly, wiggling in his grasp. 

“Good morning.” Your voice was husky, deep and raspy, choked with sleep first thing in the morning, just one more thing that Steve couldn’t help but enjoy about you. He would never tire of discovering new things about you. Each new thing only made him…

Love…that word was beginning to be a thorn in his side. The amount of times he’d had to bite his lip last night to keep from saying it was going to leave a bruise. The more time he spent with you, the more time he spent inside you, was making it harder and harder not to scream it out, consequences be damned. 

“Good morning.” His nose nuzzled into your neck, lips tracing a line, following it over your shoulder. “I swear, this is the best damn thing to wake up to. You are the best damn thing to wake up to. So much better than a slobbery dog demanding breakfast.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” His fingers skimmed over your soft belly to the curve of your hip, squeezing the ample flesh there. “I could really get used to this, honey. You in my bed…”

“Well, technically this is my bed,” you teased, sighing when his hand dipped into the apex between your thighs. 

“My bed, your bed…I really don’t care as long as I get to have you in a bed,” he growled, his lips wrapping around the skin at the hollow of your throat, sucking hard until you moaned deeply. “Jesus, I love the sounds you make. Wanna make you make them all the time.”

“Steve,” you protested, no real challenge in your voice. “Don’t we have to go get the boys?”

“We could push it just a bit.” Using his arm to push himself up, he pressed you onto your back into the mattress. Wiggling his eyebrows, he grinned. “I think Nance and Jonathan would understand if we waited just a couple more hours.”

“A couple hours, huh? You have big plans?”

“Oh honey, a couple hours is not nearly enough time for the plans I have for you.”

How about forever? It was on the tip of his tongue but he just couldn’t say it. He couldn’t risk it, not now, not when he was in so deep that he was drowning in you. 

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, clad in only his boxer shorts, Steve was in the kitchen cooking eggs and toast while you took a shower. Unfortunately, human weakness reared its head and other biological needs needed to be met. They had made it known when your stomach had started loudly rumbling while he was buried deep inside you while he pinned your wrists down with his hands. 

As much as he hadn’t wanted to pull himself away, he’d begrudgingly done so. The girl needed to eat. While he wanted nothing more than to lock the two of you in that room for the rest of the day, you were going to need your energy for the bike ride he had planned for everybody this afternoon. He couldn’t have you passing out on your bike from low blood sugar.

He slid the spatula under the perfectly cooked over-easy eggs, sliding them onto a plate. Grabbing the two pieces of toast that had just popped up, he added them and set the plate on the table. He added the butter, salt, and pepper and was just going to pour your coffee when there was a knock at the front door. 

“Well shit,” muttered Steve, glancing down at his very bare chest. Grabbing his shirt from the chair in the living room where it had been tossed last night, he hastily pulled it over his head, figuring it would have to do if he wasn’t going to leave whoever was on the other side wondering if anyone was home. 

Opening the door, he found a woman on the other side. Her blue eyes went wide as she took in the sight of him in the doorway, her hand running over her sleek gray bob. The flowy black pants and floral buttoned top she was wearing seemed like a strange choice for a Saturday, leaving him with the impression that she was a professional of some kind. But you hadn’t mentioned anyone dropping by. 

“Hello,” he smiled pleasantly. “Can I help you?”

“I highly doubt it.” Her words were sharper than seemed necessary considering Steve had never seen this woman before in his life. “Is my daughter-in-law around?”

Shit. So that’s who this was. Justin’s mom and Steve had just answered the door wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt on a Saturday morning. That didn’t leave much doubt to what kind of situation this was and he wasn’t sure if this woman even knew about him. Had you told her about him? Or was she being blindsided, having the new guy that had replaced her dead son shoved in her face? 

“You must be Mrs. Randall. I…uh…I’m Steve Harrington. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He stammered the words. He would have offered her his hand but his palms were suddenly very sweaty. How did one handle a situation like this? 

“Oh, I know exactly who you are. Although why you’re standing in my son’s house in your underwear is quite a mystery to me.”

A nervous laugh rose up in him at her words, her eyes narrowing, head tilted as she studied him. He felt like a specimen under a microscope and judging from the way she was looking at him, he was not measuring up. 

“Well, you see…I…well, Y/N and I…I’m guessing she hasn’t told you about me.”

“No. She didn’t but my grandson did. Imagine my surprise when I had to hear from a child that his mother has a new boyfriend.” She gave him a tight smile, the kind people usually displayed when they were trying to hide how they really felt, but this woman did not seem to be trying to hide anything. Disdain was rolling off her in waves so strongly it threatened to knock him off his feet. “You really think it’s appropriate for you to be spending the night this soon? Have you even bothered to consider Eli’s feelings in the matter? How it might make him feel that some man is sleeping in the bed that his mother and father used to share? That doesn’t seem a bit tacky to you?”

Steve opened his mouth, having no idea how he was going to respond but feeling like he needed to. The pressure of a thousand stares, like being on stage waiting to see if you’d nail it or fall flat on your face, was heavy on his chest. But he was saved when you came bouncing down the stairs. 

“Something smells good. Did you cook break…” You came to an abrupt stop, hands gripping the towel you'd been drying your hair with when you saw the scene in front of you. Steve in his boxers, looking like a mouse staring down a cat. Judith, the cat, glaring at you both, with her hands on her hips, claws and teeth ready to slash and shred. “Judith…what are you doing here?”

“Well, after Eli dropped that particular very unpleasant and shocking bomb on me yesterday and you refused to talk to me, I decided we needed to have a conversation about this current situation.”

“You could have just called…” you began but Judith quickly cut you off.

“And what? Have you ignore my calls like you so often do? I don’t think so.” Judith stepped around Steve with a wave as if he were nothing but an annoying gnat she was wishing to swat. “No. I think not. I demand an explanation. I believe I am owed that. Precisely why did my grandson tell me that this man, who I don’t even know, who he barely even knows, is going to be his father soon?”

“Shit…” muttered Steve, earning a harsh glare from the woman that reminded him way too much of Mrs. Click from high school. He melted back against the wall, trying to make himself small and invisible to her unapproving gaze.

So this was why she came. She felt her son’s very memory was threatened by the presence of Steve. She thought that you and him were moving too fast. Of course she did if Eli was already talking about Steve being his dad. But it was just that, talk. The kid had been hoping for it before they’d even started dating. 

“Mrs. Randall, I think this has just been a really big misunderstanding.”

“Well, I was rather hoping so until I showed up to find you here in your underwear, clearly having spent the night. I mean, really.” She sighed, tossing her arms in the air. “You find this kind of behavior appropriate with a child in the house?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Eli isn’t in the house,” you snapped. 

“And where exactly is he?”

“He’s with my ex-wife and her husband,” Steve answered, folding his arms, his confidence returning now that he saw you weren't going to quaver under the glare of this lady. 

“Strangers!” shrieked Judith. “You left my grandson with complete strangers?”

“They’re not strangers. I told you, Eli is best friends with Steve’s son, Jeremiah. I know Jeremiah’s mom and her husband. In fact, I was just out with her and some other women last night.”

“Oh! And where was my grandson while you were out living it up and having fun like some teenager with no responsibilities?”

“He was with me. I took care of the boys so she could actually enjoy a night off.” Steve’s sympathy for this woman was quickly waning each time she opened her mouth. “I made them dinner and we played some games and watched a movie. Then Jonathan showed up and offered to take the boys overnight so she and I could have some time alone. I have never slept over when he’s been here.”

“Really? Because according to Eli, you and his mother had a sleepover just last week.”

Your teeth clenched together. “The boys were having a sleepover. We were watching a movie and fell asleep on the couch. Nothing happened.” Your eyes caught Steve’s, the two of you clearly remembering what did happen, what almost happened before you were interrupted, but it was none of this woman’s business. “And whatever happened or didn’t happen isn’t really any of your concern. Eli is my son.”

“He’s my grandson! None of my concern? It’s none of my concern that you’re acting like some rampant whore around him? That you’re just choosing to leave him with strange people so you can run around with your friends and have a good time like you don’t even have a child?”

“Whoa! Hey!” Steve stepped into her, finger pointing at her face. “You have no right to come in here calling her names like that. She is a damn good mom. She’s done all of this herself for a long time and if occasionally she needs a night to herself, she’s more than earned it.”

If someone could actually explode, he was pretty certain this woman would be doing just that right now. Her nostrils flared, eyes blazing, mouth contorted into an ugly sneer as she stared him down. 

“Just who in the hell do you think you are?”

“I think I’m her boyfriend. I think I’m her person. The person she’s chosen to have in her life right now. And I think I’m the person who’s not going to stand here and let you talk to her like this. I understand that it has to be hard for you to see her with someone else, to think about another guy being in your grandson’s life. But that’s not a choice you get to make. It’s hers. So unless you’re willing to have a civil conversation and listen then there’s the goddamn door.”

“I tried to help you. I offered to let you and Eli move in with me and you refused and now look at this mess you’ve created.”

“This isn’t a mess. This is my life.”

“And some life it is. I knew when Justin brought you home that he was making a mistake. You whispered all those lies about how much you loved him. I knew you never did.”

Your mouth dropped, a small gasp of pain escaping your lips, making Steve want to smack a woman for the first time in his life. Tears filled your eyes but you straightened your spine, refusing to allow Judith to make you fall apart.

“That was never a lie, Judith. I did love Justin. I still do.” 

“You loved him so much that you’re so ready to just replace him and move on. To allow some other man in his house, in his bed, in his role as Eli’s father.”

“There has not been any talk of Steve being Eli’s father,” you argued. “We are dating. There’s not even been talk of moving in together. All of that is coming from Eli. He adores Steve and he’s a kid and he just wants what other kids have. Can’t you see that?”

“He already has a father,” Judith whimpered, quickly losing steam as her grief began to take the wheel from her anger. 

“He does and I will never let him forget Justin. We talk about him every night before he goes to bed. I show him pictures and videos. I tell him stories. We order pizza every Friday because it’s what we used to do when Justin was home.” Those tears that had been lingering on your lash line now broke free, spilling down your cheeks as you held your hands out in front of you, begging Judith to understand. “We go to the apple orchard and the pumpkin farm every fall because it was a tradition we started with him. I show him his favorite movies and we listen to his favorite music. Eli knows all the words to The Most Beautiful Girl in the World by Prince and he knows how Justin used to sing it to me every time he’d return from deployment and we’d dance around the living room. Judith, Eli will never forget Justin because I can’t ever forget Justin. You think I don’t grieve for him still? Sometimes it hits me and the pain is so bad that I double over with it. But am I really sentenced to spend the rest of my life alone at thirty-two because the universe was cruel enough to take my happy ending away from me?”

Judith actually looked stunned. In the ten minutes Steve had known her, even he was shocked to find her speechless. This did not seem like a woman who ran out of words. 

Then the two women were hugging and crying. He stood to the side, unsure of what to do. He had the equivalent of emotional whiplash. He’d been so angry, ready to storm the castle and defend you to the death if need be, and now it didn’t seem necessary. You clung to each other, sobs shaking your bodies. 

“I’m sorry,” Judith sniffed, shaking her head, hands wrapped around your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just…it’s so unfair that he got taken from us and then to know you’re with…” She jerked her head toward Steve. Well, alright. She might be apologizing but apparently she still wasn’t fond of him. “To know Eli may see someone else as his…I just couldn’t bear it. I fear I will be the only one to remember my son.”

“You won’t.” Your hands found Judith’s forearms, hanging on. “I could never forget him and I will never let Eli forget him. I promise you that. We…we don’t even know what this is yet.” Steve would be lying if he said that didn’t sting just a bit. “It’s so new. Who knows where it’s going but if it moves in that direction, Eli will still know who his dad is. And no matter what happens, you will always be his grandmother and you will always have a place in his life.”

Judith nodded slowly, her fist coming to her mouth. The woman appeared to at least be trying to accept it. Steve wasn’t sure what the history was here. He didn’t know what kind of relationship she and you had in the past but he hoped, if for nothing else than the sake of Eli, that she could. 

“Can I…would it be okay if I came into town for his first game?”

“Of course. Eli would love it if you were there.”

Steve wasn’t sure he would. He wasn’t sure he wanted to spend any more time with this woman ever. But this wasn’t his decision. He knew when he started this thing that you came with some baggage. And if the heaviest load was some uptight ex mother-in-law, well, he’d just have to learn to heft it if he planned on sticking around. 

“Okay. Well, then…I guess I’ll just go. It’s a long drive back. But maybe I could go pick him up and…”

You cut her off, “Steve and I are picking up the boys and taking them on a bike ride. They’ve been looking forward to it all week. So today isn’t a good day. If you would have called first I could have told you that. I could have told you all of this and saved you the drive.”

“Right. Next time I’ll call as long as you plan on answering.”

“I will answer as long as I’m not busy.”

Judith’s mouth pinched up again, the crying camaraderie apparently forgotten now. Wiping away any sign of weakness or vulnerability with her fingers under her eyes, she straightened her spine and turned for the door. It was disorienting how quickly she looked like she hadn’t just been falling apart, completely reserved once again.

“I will see you in a couple weeks then.”

“See you in a couple weeks.”

And then she was gone. You exhaled, your shoulders and head dropping forward, as if all the strength you'd held in to handle Judith had rushed from you in one breath. Your arms wrapped around your middle, reminding him of Eli after school just yesterday. 

Steve stood still, unsure of what to do. Did you want him to comfort you? Did you want him to leave you alone? Should he offer to just head and get the boys and come back for you later so you could have some time to process everything that had just happened? 

“I’m sorry.” The words were spoken so softly he almost didn’t catch them. “She loves to sneak up on me at the worst times. I should have seen this coming. She’s been itching to have it out with me ever since Eli told her you were my boyfriend.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, shrugging. It wasn’t, not really. He wasn’t sure how he felt after that whole exchange. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” you stated firmly. “I really don’t. Not right now anyway. Can we just eat?” Lifting your head, you pasted on a smile. “That coffee smells amazing and I could really use some right now.”

“Oh…uh…yeah…”

You breezed past him into the kitchen, leaving him standing there wondering what in the hell had just happened and what it meant that you didn’t know what this was between you.

____________________________________________________________

The boys were down on the sand, building a fortress from rocks and driftwood that they collected for their superheroes. It was still far too cold to even consider stepping foot in the water. The day was warm, the sun beating pleasantly down on their skin, but it would take months for the lake to absorb that heat, usually not pleasant enough for a swim until late June or even early July. 

You sat on the blanket you'd brought with you to sit on while you enjoyed the picnic lunch that Steve had packed. Sandwich crusts, chip crumbs, and stray blueberries laid forgotten on plates as the boys declared themselves full in favor of running off to play. You took a sip of her iced tea, glancing over at Steve. 

After Judith’s impromptu interruption, ruining what otherwise had been an absolutely perfect night and morning, he’d been rather quiet and awkward. He didn’t appear mad but disoriented, like a child who’d fallen off their bike after removing the training wheels and feared getting back on because they didn’t trust themselves. It was like he’d lost his footing and couldn’t find it again. And you knew it was your fault. 

Judith just had such a negative impact on you and you were so exhausted from constantly trying to convince the woman that you w were doing a good job of raising Eli. Was it easy? No. Did you screw up a lot? Yes. But at the end of the day your son was happy, healthy, and loved. Wasn’t that what mattered? Why could that never be enough? Why did every decision you ever made have to come into question by a woman whose son joined the military just to get away from her?

“Steve…”

“Hmm?” His head turned toward you and you could see how hard he was working to keep an impassive look on his face, to not show how he was truly feeling. What was he feeling? Was he angry? He had every right to be after the way Judith had treated him, after you yourself had dismissed him, telling him you didn’t want to talk. 

“About earlier…”

He cut you off, lifting his hand in front of him, “It’s fine. Really. You said you didn’t want to talk about it so you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s not fine.”

“It is. It’s obviously a tough situation for you that I don’t know anything about so…”

“But you should,” you stated firmly. Rising to your knees, you shifted until you were in front of him, taking both of his hands in your own. “You should. If we’re doing this…being an us, then you should know. Judith is difficult but she is a part of my life and she isn’t going anywhere. She’s Eli’s grandmother and that means that you’re going to have to deal with her sometimes so you should know our history. You should know exactly what you’re walking into.”

“But we don’t even know what this is, right? Isn’t that what you said? We’re not that serious so why do I need to know anything important about you?”

Ouch. His words hit their mark, exactly as he’d meant them to based on the tone he’d used. A missile he’d launched, his own hurt weaponized and aimed directly for you, successfully obliterating its target. You dropped down onto your heels as he pulled his hands back from you. His hand came to the back of his neck, rubbing, as if he could wipe away the tension that had appeared between them. 

“Shit. Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Yes you did.”

“No. I didn’t.” His cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk with a frustrated exhale. “I want to know everything about you. I do. I want to know it all, the good, the bad, and everything in between. I just…when you said that…”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Is that how you feel? That you don’t know what we are? I mean, I guess I just need to know what this is. I thought we were on the same page but maybe we’re not. What do you want here, honey? Is this all just fun for you? Is this a casual thing? Are you serious about us or should I be preparing to have my heart stomped all over?”

Those beautiful eyes were begging you for an answer, for the answer he wanted. And he had it. He had all of you. He had every piece of you that you had to offer. But you didn’t know how much to say. He had no idea how completely gone for him you already were, how you dreamed of the future with him, what it would look like, the four of you together. 

Your eyes drifted over to the boys, yelling and giggling as Lex Luthor and his henchmen tried to attack the Fortress of Solitude they’d built from whatever they could find on the beach. You could picture this, days, months, years of this…the two of you sitting back and enjoying your boys together. Watching them grow up, birthday parties and Christmases, Steve helping them with their ties for school dances, teaching them how to drive. Nights together watching movies and playing games. You could see it so clearly in your mind but you were terrified that if you shared all that with him he would leave a blazing path through this forest as he ran as far and as fast as he could. 

“Honey?” he prompted when you'd been silent for so long. 

“What do you want?” you asked, turning the tables on him, placing the ball in his court. 

“What?”

“What do you want from this? Do you see this as something that has a future? Do you see us together six months from now? A year from now? Ten years from now? Or in three months will I be just another in a long line of heartbroken exes?”

Steve reared back as if you'd just slapped him across the face. And maybe it had been an insensitive question but you felt it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Steve had been in numerous relationships throughout his life. Robin had shared that he latched on and fell fast because he was so desperate to be loved. Was that what this was? 

You felt like he really liked you, like he truly cared about you. But was it just his past traumas causing him to act like that? Causing him to feel things that weren’t really there yet?

“Do you seriously not know?” he demanded. When you just looked at him, he groaned. “How do you not know how I feel about you? This isn’t even in the ballpark of casual for me. I told you I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel for you.”

“But how can you be sure? Robin said…”

“Robin said what? That I love too quickly because of my messed up childhood bullshit? Because my parents didn’t love me enough, I’m always looking for it elsewhere?”

“I mean, she may have said something like that.”

“And she’s not wrong. I have in the past. I stayed with Nancy because I was desperate for a family, a real family. I was desperate to make it work, to be successful where my parents weren’t. But I’m not twenty anymore. I’m thirty-two and I am well aware of my faults. I didn’t even see what I was doing then but I do now. I know every relationship I’ve ever had wasn’t really love. It was…I don’t know. Me just settling, searching for something, anything that would make me feel whole. But I’ve never found it. I’ve never felt it until you. I think you’re what I’ve been searching for. I’ve spent my whole life waiting for someone like you.”

This was the second time he’d said that to you and it didn’t fail to rock you to your very core once again. It shook your very foundation to know that this beautiful, perfect man seemed to think that you were the thing he’d been missing in his life, that you were the missing piece to the puzzle that he’d been hopelessly searching for. 

Your eyes roamed over his face, the flecks of gold in his eyes brought out by the sun, the freckles like angel kisses lovingly placed on his skin, those plump lips that girls would pay thousands of dollars to have. That word, that damn word, so simple, four letters, one syllable, was driving its way up your throat, desperate to be spoken. 

Your hands slid over his jaw, softly, gently, as if you were holding delicate treasure that must be protected, because you were. His Adam’s apple bobbed, the muscles in his neck tensing, as he waited for you to reply to the truths he’d just laid before you. 

“This isn’t casual for me either. I…I know my situation is different. I wasn’t searching all my life. I found…but he’s gone and when I lost Justin, I resigned myself to the fact that he was it. He had been my one shot at happiness and love and all that comes with it. But then here you came and you barreled through all of that doubt like a wrecking ball.” Your eyes slipped closed as you willed yourself to have the courage to jump off the edge, to soar through the air with nothing but hope that he would catch you instead of leaving you to hit the ground. “You snuck up on me and there is nothing just fun or casual about this because I…I love you.”

His eyebrows crept toward his forehead, every color in the spectrum dancing through his eyes that were now as wide as the moon and just as spectacular. You held your breath, your teeth worrying over your bottom lip. But then, as if in slow motion, his lips parted, curving into a slow smile that consumed his entire face, those little crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. His fingers slid into your hair, pulling you to him, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered, “You do?”

“I do. I know it’s really soon. I wasn’t even sure I should say it. I realized it yesterday and it terrified me but it also…I don’t know. It just felt right, like something just shifting into the place it belonged all along. I told myself I wasn’t going to say it, that I was going to wait.” Your eyes squeezed shut nervously. “I was going to wait until you said it and I hope it doesn’t scare you. You don’t have to say it back. I don’t want you to say it because you think you have to. I just…I need you to know that I am all in. I am not going anywhere. I have already dove in way too deep. There’s no going back now.”

“I love you, too.”

“Don’t…please don’t say it just because I…”

“I’m not.” His fingers trailed down over your arms, linking his fingers with yours and bringing your interlocked hands to his chest. “I’m not. I’ve been trying not to say it too. I didn’t want to push you. I know this is hard for you. I know this is the first time you’ve been with anybody since your husband passed. I wanted to take things at your pace, follow your lead. I was waiting for you to say it first. But I do. I love you. I think I’ve loved you ever since that night I brought pizza over. And yeah, that’s crazy and it makes no sense because we barely knew each other but it’s true. I love everything I already know about you and I want to spend my life getting to know everything I don’t.”

“You…your life…?”

“Shit. Was that too much? I’m not about to pull out a ring or anything. I’m not asking you to promise the rest of your life to me. I just…I just meant…”

“Steve,” you laughed, pressing your lips against his to silence him. “No. It wasn’t too much. I know what you meant. I mean, we can’t really say we’re all in if we’re not expecting this to last forever, right?”

“Right.” He grinned, releasing your hands to wrap his arms around you and pull you in close. You sat between his legs, your back nestled into his chest, settling into place right where you belonged as the two of you watched your boys run down the sand.

Chapter 16

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[hermitscratch]

or 2 with rendoc please? :)

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

2. An accidental kiss, Ren/Doc, 953 words

Contrary to popular belief, Doc enjoyed slow mornings.

He was an early riser, when his ambitions were lax enough to allow him a full night's sleep, or his friends insistent enough to demand it of him. Something about seeing the sun crest the horizon and paint the sky in gloriously bright color always lit a fire under him, reminded him that there was a new day at his disposal and urged him to make the best of it. He could grind for hours on that motivation alone.

But, that didn't mean Doc didn't know how to appreciate downtime. There was a contentedness that came with everything being in its place, his builds ahead of schedule and his workspaces organized in a way he understood, even if nobody else did. In the distance, Doc could hear the sparking redstone and firing pistons of various contraptions, a cadence so familiar that he could tell they were working properly by sound alone.

The eggs were fresh from Doc's chicken farm. The steak had sat in an herb bath overnight. The coffee was ground from Doc's latest attempts to crossbreed a sweeter bean. The berry juice was pressed and chilled that morning. Ren was running downstairs in a rush-

...Wait.

Doc looked up as Ren flitted and fretted around their shared space, disheveled from sleep. "I am so late, dude," Ren said in way of greeting, apology, and explanation, all in one.

"I can see that," Doc said, putting down his coffee mug, "What's the hurry?"

Ren disappeared back upstairs. Into the bathroom, were Doc to guess, the door left ajar for the sound of running water and brushing teeth to travel. "Hah a meeing wih Hreah an' Hrea," Ren tried.

Doc's organic side softened. "Try again," He said, standing from the table. If he'd known Ren had somewhere to be, Doc might not have made him a plate. He'd've at least woken him up to eat it sooner, but no point letting it go to waste now.

There was the sound of swishing, spitting, and a much clearer voice repeated, "A meeting with Stress and Cleo!" Doc heard rummaging from the direction of Ren's room as he worked to slice the steak and scramble the eggs, "Where's my-?"

"Your elytra is hanging in the front hall," Doc interrupted, "Where I left it when I last mended it for you."

"Oh," The delight in Ren's tone seemed out of place, and Doc huffed, shaking his head fondly as the rummaging kicked up again, "I was gonna say my shades, actually, but good to know about that, too!"

"Have you checked your head." It wasn't a question, and there wasn't an answer, just a telling silence that made Doc wheeze with laughter.

When Ren came back downstairs a bit later, he was out of his pajamas, teeth, hair, and tail all brushed. "We're just gonna ignore that little faux pas I did there, alright? Alright," Ren insisted casually, walking past the kitchen to grab his elytra and strap it on.

Doc met Ren in the hall. "You can ignore it," Doc pointed out as he offered him an insulated bundle. The steak and eggs were sliced thin and mixed together, and he'd poured the berry juice into a capped bottle. Ren might have appreciated the coffee, but it wasn't yet decaffeinated enough to be dog hybrid-safe. "I'll be thinking about it for the next hour."

Ren snickered, accepting the bundle with one hand and pulling the front door open with the other. "Yeah, uh, this morning's been a struggle," He stood on his tip toes to press his lips to Doc's, and then he's out the door, calling a "Catch you later, baby!" as he flew off.

Doc watched him go. He shut the door behind Ren, and returned to his place on the couch. His coffee had cooled. Doc took a sip anyway, and didn't even register the tingling of his lips.

"DOC!" Doc coughed in surprise as Ren careened back through the front door. His elytra would need to be mended again, but that was less of a concern than the wide-eyed expression on Ren's face.

Doc hardly had a moment to set his mug down before Ren was trapping him on the couch, a hand holding his weight on either side of the headrest. "What is happening, man?" He asked skeptically.

"Doc, what did I just do?" Ren asked him with an urgency that made Doc's eyes narrow thoughtfully.

"Ruined your elytra, again, and maybe the door?" Doc spared it a glance. Definitely broken, or at least knocked off one of its hinges, hanging askew in the doorway by little more than a prayer.

Ren shook his head, "No no, before that! I left with the bundle you gave me, what did I do right before that?"

Doc thought back. Ren had been rushing to leave. He'd brushed his teeth, gotten dressed, and found his shades. He'd been putting on his elytra when Doc stopped him for the bundle, and then-

Oh. Ren had kissed him.

"You should call Stress and Cleo," Doc said, half-dazed. It had happened so quickly that Doc hadn't even processed the action until now.

Ren raised a brow, "Why's that?"

Doc hooked his arm around Ren's neck and pulled until Ren fell forward, body against him properly, and returned the favor. It was more than the quick press of lips Ren had spared him at the door, but if the wagging of Ren's tail and the feel of his rapid heartbeat was any indication, there weren't any complaints.

They were both breathless when they broke apart, and Doc touched his forehead to Ren's. "You aren't going to make that meeting."

[bloomingdog]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 — 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

data: your basic florist au, bit of angst, identity reveal, all that stuff. 4k words, no use of Y/N.

You know him, you know what the looks like at the very least. Once a week—the day never stays the same—him and a group of other instrument-carrying people go into the small venue in front of your shop at nine in the evening, an hour after closing the shop, when you’re about to head home. One early morning, out of curiosity, you checked the schedules adhered and covering the roller shutter in a poor attempt to find who this mysterious guy was. You found no useful information in that regard, you did foind, however, that the club opened at ten and most concerts held there started at least half an hour later. With that new gathered intel your best guess was that they came early to get everything set or a rather quick sound-check.

The venue is on one of the corners that limit the four way pedestrian crossing, the two corners on either side both hold pubs, and diagonally there’s you. “For the Roses” is a name given by its old owner, a sweet lady—and Joni Mitchell fan—you had worked for since you were seventeen, and four years later she had decided it was time to retire. For the last five months it’s been just you, it was easier to take care of it when you were two people working, that much is true, but having to close the shop has given you staring privileges. Years ago, when you first started working here the placement of the shop seemed rather odd, between clubs, pubs and the many other forms of amusement, this, however, was a strategical position. A big part of the clientele consisted of repenting boyfriends and enamoured halves of a first date, and they kept the business afloat.

You recognise him the moment he walks in.

“Hello! How may I help you?” The clock ticks away the last minutes before closing as you try to put on your cheeriest voice.

“Hi, sorry about comin’ in so late. My mate’s playing a gig, I just want some flowers to throw on stage, whole dramatics and all.” His voice is smooth with only the slightest rasp to it. He’s a fun last client.

“Do you want the classic roses then?”

“Nah don’t bother, give me the leftovers.” There are one or two extra cuttings and a bouquet that never got picked up you wouldn’t mind getting rid of. 

You excuse yourself to pick out the best leftover flowers you could in an attempt to make a half-decent bouquet. He’s oggling your shop, he’s particularly eye-catching inside your light coloured, slightly old-fashioned establishment. He likes it there, it’s cosy, the floors are filled with different types of flower arrengements and the walls display an amalgamation of different decorations gathered throughout the years, his inspection is only interrupted by your coming back behind the counter.

“Here, I tried to make it as cohesive as I could.”

“It’s alright, love, it’s gonna get thrown anyway.” Oh, that pet name went straight to your chest.

“It felt unprofessional not to give you at least a small sample of my usual, better, quality.” He gave a side smile as a response.

“How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house, no worries, I wouldn’t make you pay for only scraps.”

“That’s quite nice, take this as a tip, then.” He slid a twenty pound note on the counter, right before turning around a saying his goodbyes with a single wave of his hands.

Spinning the sign at the glass door so it reads “Closed” you turn to sweeping the floor and leaving your workplace as neat as possible, you hum along to the song playing from your phone on the counter. The 20 dollars he gave you felt a bit too much, not that you’re going to complain, not with the cost of everything, a flower shop isn’t a luxurious job to have, so it’s much appreciated. 

Drawing the curtain-like metal you spot a group of people walking into the club, one of them must be his friend.

A mere day later, he’s back, making the dainty bells above the door chime.

“Hello! Got another show you need to throw flowers at?” You quip and he chuckles.

“Nah. Only wanted to get actual flowers to have a good reason to ask you out.” He’s confident, maybe overly so, and Hobie is well aware of that, it’s not often that his confidence fails him, though. You look surprised before laughing, it’s ridiculous.

“And what were you thinking of getting?”

“I was hoping you could recommend me something.”

“Roses are usually the go-to flower, although I much prefer freesias.”

“Sick, I’d like a single freesia, please.” He says it in an overly polite manner, the whole situation is laughable.

“That’ll be two pounds.” You say as you hand him the flower.

“Here you go.” You mutter a thank you for an answer. “My band’s playing tonight, at ten, just on the other street, you could come and we could get a drink after.”

No way you’re attending a club on a Wednesday night, with a stranger nonetheless. 

“Sure.” 

“Sweet, I’ll see you. My name’s Hobie by the way.”

And it sounds like proper fun, really.

You’ve managed to avoid the biggest wave of people going home during rush hour and, thankfully, your ride home is as pleasant as the tube allows it to be and yet, you’re restless. His invite plays around in your mind. He’s handsome, that’s for sure, and it would satiate your curiosity on the other side it would also make you tired for work the next day, you’re too old for that, you think and softly laugh at your own joke. The walk home gives you time to ponder on wasted opportunities and the best years of your life, your flat instead greets you with the promise of a reheated dinner and an eight-hour-long sleep which for a moment makes you think about ditching him. 

The commute back feels longer than it usually does. You ate in a rush and got ready far too fast after your flatmate complained about needing to use the bathroom. Your phone marks 10:05PM, fashionably late. You’re thankful the show hasn’t started by the time you sit by the bar, ordering a beer. You still haven’t decided if it’s brave or cocky to ask someone out to your own show.

The whirring of a guitar being plugged signals the beginning of the show.

“Hello, we’re The Spider-Slayers! One two three!” Is your only warning before they start playing. They’re quite good, you have to admit, Hobie, as you’ve recently learned he’s named, exudes power and confidence while on stage, he’s rather skilled. It’s enjoyable, half of the audience is too plastered—it's only ten in the evening—to pay attention to the actual music and are merely glad to have a loud noise playing for them, but they’re well-liked, no doubt an established part of the community. It passes faster than you had anticipated, not even an hour later he’s walking your way while another band prepares to play.

He’s sweaty as he sits down and orders a rum and coke, he looks at you questioning if you also want one. “Make it two.” He indicates the bartender. “Did you like it?” 

He’s tall but not intimidating in the slightest, the metal in his face a contrast to all of his warm side smiles. 

“Yes!” You’re quick to answer. “It was really nice, you guys are good.” He fully smiles at the compliment, he’s got a pretty smile.

“Thanks. I forgot to ask your name earlier, sorry about that.”

“No worries, it’s Y/N.”

“Pretty.” It’s flirty. 

“Did your mate like the flowers?” You ask as the man behind the bar hands you your drinks.

“Totally, made a mess on stage and everything. She was grateful, seriously, funny and praising in equal parts, the bouquet was beautiful too, such a shame it ended like that.” You laugh at that. “How’s it working at a flower shop?”

“Good, actually, better than one good expect, I’d say it’s one of the better retail jobs out there.”

“Seems hard.”

“It is at the beginning, you should’ve seen some of my first arrangements, they were bloody awful, I’m still wondering how we didn’t get any complaints.” It’s Hobie’s turn to laugh.

“You’ve made some improvement then, your shop’s beautiful.” You beam and thank him, you’re proud of the way it’s looking these days. “How’d you end up working there? Do you need a degree to be a florist?”

“Not really, no. I’ve taken a couple courses but for the most part I was trained by my old boss.”

“Hm.” He nods. “Strange place to set up a flower shop, innit? I see you closing all the time and wonder who in their right mind would think of opening it at a nightlife epicenter.” Good to know you’re not the only observer.

“You’d think so! We get a lot of our clientele thanks to that, not all flower shops open until eight either way. Flowers make both great apologies and gifts, you can only imagine the kind of people who walk in there.”

“What, like me?” 

“No way, I’d put you in the normal bunch.” He quirks an eyebrow, an invitation to tell him more about yourself. And that you do. You talk for the two hours that the club remains open, he’s fun, you’re both chatty, you’ve got a multitude of things in common, he tells you about his bandmates, you exchange numbers, he’s a cat person by the way. 

“You want me to walk you home?” The underground closed an hour ago, it wasn’t that big of a trek to your place, you could say yes if not for the stranger—acquaintance—danger middle school talks flashing in your memory. The bus, though taking longer than the tube, was still an option.

“It’s fine, really. I’d rather take the bus.” 

“Got it, I can wait with you if you’d like.” Yeah, yeah, you’d like that. The two of you walk close to each other to the nearest stop. The pavement is damp, it gives you another reason to be glad that you wore your trusty old, slightly dirty, converse instead of a more sophisticated option.

“Thank you for inviting me, I had a nice time, you’re fun.”

“So are you, love.” How could an overused term like that have such a big effect on you when he says it remains a mystery.

You sit in a comfortable silence until the right bus gets there and as you bid your goodbyes you’re unable to contain the big smile you give him, blame it on the drinks. You send him a quick text noticing him that you got home safe and sound before falling into deep sleep.

Your phone rings and vibrates from the bedside table, it always goes off at the same time and yet today it manages to scare you awake. The trip to the bathroom and coffee making is accompanied by a string of curses: music, bad choices, the opening hours of your business and pretty boys all fall victim to your vulgarities. The lack of proper sleep makes your day go by twice as slowly, nodding off and almost missing your stop and doomscrolling during work hours to pass the time, even turning to reading an article from The Daily Bugle, it’s laughable, it’s says something something Spider-Man, something juvenile delinquent something menace for the city.

The chime of little bells half an hour before closing wakes you up better than your alarm had done earlier in the day. Looking up from your phone you spot the same bright eyes and confident stroll that kept you company last night.

“You need to stop coming in right before closing.” You scold him. You’re confident he’s aware that it’s an invitation for him to keep showing up.

“My bad. Do you like food?”

“I-What?” Indeed, what? “I like food, yes.”

“Peng. You want to grab dinner?” And he also needs to stop proposing last-minute plans.

“Where?”

“What do you fancy?”

“Thai?”

“Sure.” 

“I close in half an hour, you can stay here if you want.” Not that you’re expecting any more costumers.

He asks if he can help with anything and you hand him the broom and dustpan that hangs in the back of the shop, he laughs and takes it as payment for having you get out earlier. The floors aren’t dirty per se, it’s mostly leaves and bits of cutting that have fallen. He sweeps while you get everything ready for tomorrow and put away what’s been used today. Half an hour later you hang your work apron and close the shutters. 

There’s a nice restaurant a couple blocks away you’ve got food to-go from before. You order a spicy noodle soup, khanom jeen nam ngiaw, and he settles for stir-fry noodles. It’s good, warm and comforting, you take a bite from his plate and he follows suit with a spoonful of your broth. The conversation picked up while cleaning and it has yet to die down, he tells you about his hobbies—you can't help to make fun of him by saying Hobie's hobbies—and you share your love for museums with him, ‘We should visit one.’ he says to which you agree in excitement. 

You don’t let go of his hand until your bedroom door is closed and you softly push him into bed. Taking only a short break to take off both of your shoes you don’t waist time in straddling him, his hands on your hips as you return to kissing. Soft moans mark the tempo for your exploring hands and you stare at his bare abdomen with much less shame than you think you should have. His hands are slightly calloused and scarred, it doesn’t matter with how skilled they are. It feels like you’re drowning in him, you hope he feels half as good as he’s making you feel, if his breathless mutters of ‘fuck’ and ‘good girl’ are any indicator you can pat yourself on the back after it’s over.

The dinner is paid for, the night chilly compared to the warmth inside the restaurant. He offers to walk you home again, this time you agree because you’re no longer strangers, right? You make it half of the way before puts his hand on your lower back, you don’t make an effort to move it, it’s comfortable.

You make it three quarters of the way until you start kissing, your back against the wall of a mildly busy street, you feel like a horny teenager. You climb up the stairs to your flat two-steps at a time, your hand holding his and praying that your flatmate has confined herself to her room so you don’t have to introduce one to the other, not right now at least.

The morning after your alarm not only scares you awake but it also makes him sit up in bed with a jolt.

“Sorry.” Sleep is still evident in your voice.

“S’okay.” He replies before giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, you don’t think either of you wants to deal with each other’s morning breath, it’s a tad early for that.

You offer him breakfast. Your flatmate has left for work but she won’t forgive you if you don’t tell her of last night’s events. At least it won’t make this morning awkward, or more awkward than it already is, it happens with first breakfasts: sleepy, a mess, cranky from waking up, it’s not anyone’s best look. 

You take the underground while he chooses to walk home, it’s not crazy far away from yours, apparently. In the meantime, the work day is spent looking up frantically every time the bells over your door chime, hoping that it will be him at some point. He does come over, at ten past eight, and he has to knock on the door to catch your attention. Your strange arrangement goes on for the better part of the next two months, he comes over when you’re about to close, you eat together multiple times per week, he’s quite a skilled at making exactly seven different dishes, he invites you to his shows and you’ve met his bandmates, you’ve had every cliché date imaginable: the park, the cinema, the natural history museum, markets, the full deal. You don’t call them dates though, you’re not a couple even with all the kissing and sleeping together—literally and figuratively—he’s told you he doesn’t like labels, but he’s being exclusive with you so you’re okay with it. 

He shows up with little cuts and bruises, you attributed to being clumsy at first but it’s become more common lately, he excuses it as a protest that went south, a moshpit or just a friendly scuffle with his mates. It doesn’t ease your nerves. But you're soon to forget all about it once you’re outside, walking hand in hand and sharing headphones, he’s incorporated bits and pieces of your music to his playlist and he makes sure to show you the songs he thinks you’ll like first than anything.

Your phone lights up with a text notification from Hobie, he’s coming over soon. It shouldn’t be, but it reads as ominous, he doesn’t usually tell you in advance and would rather showing up unannounced.

“Hey pet.” He greets, it’s his latest nickname for you, you’ve always thought it ridiculous but he’s making you grow fond of it.

“Hi Bee” An animal-related nickname you gave him after he tried calling you ‘duck’ that has stuck. “You want to do something or should we head home?”

“Home’s fine, I’m tired.” It’s fair, he’s always running around doing things, you’re okay with a night in. 

He sweeps the floor, it’s his assigned task, you feel bad but he says he doesn’t mind and likes helping you. The ride back to your place is quieter than usual, he seems pensive. You’re about to open the door to your building when you notice him stuck a meter away.

“Are you okay?” Your heart is picking up speed.

“Listen, love.” Oh no. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to come up.” You’re on the second and final step of the stairway while he’s at ground level, he looks smaller than he’s ever been. “I’ve had a lot of fun, really, but I don’t think I can go on with our thing, you know? I’m not good at commitment anyway.” Your lack of a response get’s him speaking again. “I’m truly sorry, I just don’t wanna go on with this and end up hurtin’ you.”

“Okay.” Is the only thing your brain is able to formulate.

“Okay.” He replies. “I’ll be leaving now.” He says as he kisses your temple, turning around and giving you a single wave of the hand for a goodbye.

You feel the tears beginning to fill up your eyes, your vision blurry, at least you were able to hold them until he left, it’s already embarrassing as it is. You don’t bother re-heating dinner that night, choosing to go straight to bed and waking up with puffy eyes in the morning. For the first time in a while you’re sure you won’t have any visits at work, it’s terrible. You feel stupid. He told you enough about himself to know that the two of you weren’t in for a long-term relationship and still you held onto some sort of hope of being an exception. 

That was two weeks ago. You’ve seen him two times since, while leaving for home. He waves your way and you wave back, out of politeness more than anything. Two weeks of radio silence that break your established routine and fill you with a sense of expectation during the last hours of work. 

It’s nine-twenty on a Sunday, it’s usual for you to stay until late at the end of your work week, Hobie knew that and would make sure to keep you company and take you home those days. The early November weather has made it so it’s already been dark for hours, the city is rather calm, you don’t suppose there’s much to do on a cold November night. A series of knocks on the door alerts you of the presence of someone outside, it startles you as you hold the broom you were using against your chest.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight outside the door. Spider-Man was doubling down and leaning against the glass of your shopfront, electric guitar strapped across him and hanging in his back, clad in his usual metal decorations while his suit had been torn. You let him in a hurry, it’s not ideal to have an idol of the working class dead on your welcome mat. He limps to the back of the shop, in your current state of panic you don’t stop to wonder how he knows the way so well, until he’s sitting on the floor and leaning against one of the walls, guitar forgotten besides him. You follow him and crouch at his side just in time for him to take off his mask. 

“Fuck off.”

“Hi pet.”

You were so excited to be done with work and head home to watch a film, lucky for you, your ex-situationship still has a habit of coming in right before you leave. 

“Bloody hell Hobie.” 

“Please don’t be shocked right now, we can talk about it tomorrow.” He can’t be serious. “I’m knackered.” I wonder why, you think. He looks like proper shit.

“Hobie you’re bleeding.” You’re trying your best to be helpful and not panic.

“It’s fine love, it’ll heal in no time, I kinda have superpowers.” You’re choosing to ignore that and get up to retrieve your first aid kit, it’s far too basic to be useful right now, only equipped to help with cuts and minor injuries.

You can feel his eyes on you and your whole body is shaking as you kneel by his side. You try your best to keep your hands steady while pouring rubbing alcohol into a cotton pad.

“You don’t have to, I’ll be fine.”

“Let me clean it, please, so it doesn’t get infected.” He lets you, wincing at the alcohol making contact with his open injuries. He knows you're doing it more for yourself than him. “Sorry.” He shakes his head as a way of saying ‘no worries’.

You reach for his face with your bare hand once you’ve considered him clean enough, you cradle his cheek and can’t hold your tears from spilling.

“This is why I cut thing off with you, you know? Don’t wan’ you getting hurt.”

“I don’t care.”

“Don’t say that.” He pleads. 

“What about you getting hurt? Does that not matter?” He laughs and winces right after.

“You’re a sweet thing. I don’t have a choice but you do.”

“And what if my choice is to stand by your side?”

“You can’t.”

“Yes I do!” You’re reaching tour breaking point and can’t help but raise your voice. “I didn’t know I loved you as much as I do until these last weeks without you. It’s been torture.”

“It’s been torture for me too.” His words soften you, and it’s only then you realize what you said, you don’t dare acknowledge them, maybe he didn’t notice or the head trauma will make him forget it.

You’re crying now and it feels awful because you should be the one comforting him, he’s hurt not you. He holds you as you shake and places a kiss to your head.

“Can we sleep here?” He asks once you’ve calmed down. The tile floor is anything but comfortable and still you nod yes.

You fix a make-shift bed consisting of your bunched up jumper and apron for pillows and your big coat, that barely covers his upper body, for a blanket. Not that it matters, you chose to turn the radiator up and it’s hard to get cold while curled up to a human heater. You’re careful while laying with him, both out of fear of hurting him and prudence of this hurting you even more. He doesn’t care and brings you closer, your head on his chest and his hand drawing shapes on your back over your clothes, you can’t help but worry about the state of his back in the morning. 

You find sleep easier than you have since your “break-up”, his rhythmic breathing lulls you and his caresses calm you down. You’re in the before-falling-asleep-limbo when you hear his voice, he says “I love you too” like a confession secret, you’re not sure if you were even supposed to hear it. It’s too late for you to react, his words mix with the beginning of your dreams into a spiralling nonsense.

🕷 i really enjoyed writing this! i was thinking of maybe doing a part 2? tell me your thoughts if you dont mind too! i haven't written anything that isnt academic in years and i feel rusty

[running-tweezers]

Good Morning

A short Damien/Huxley ficlet that wouldn’t leave my head until I put it out into the world

(This is also my very first post on ao3 if you’d like to read it there)

Damien’s relationship with sleep had always been less than ideal.

Until now.

Damien’s relationship with sleep had always been less than ideal.

Even as a kid, he spent nights awake, under his comforter reading library books by flashlight, listening intently for his mom’s footsteps down the hallway. It was an escape, a time when he could be alone, with no eyes on him. No one around to expect anything of him. He could forget about that less than stellar mark on his history test and his mom’s disappointed glance, and just lose himself in a story. No stakes. No pressure. The night was his time.

He would eventually wake in the morning, with his book still in hand and the flashlight on the floor, with only the foggiest memories of drifting to sleep.

Growing into a teenager, that expectation started to cling to him, refusing to loosen its grip. It dug its claws into what was previously his only hours of peace. The quiet freedom of the darkness was traded for late night study sessions. The reading he did for his own joy was traded for dull textbooks, impenetrable blocks of information to brute force into his head. He had to. He had no other choice.

After those nights, he would startle awake at the sound of his alarm. His back and neck twisted into impossible painful positions, his head planted on the desk, with no recollection of when he finally gave out.

Nowadays, he wished he could say with confidence that those late nights were behind him. A good sleep schedule was important, and he knew that. But old habits die hard. The problem was never staying asleep. Once he was out, he stayed that way. The issue was falling asleep in the first place. It was still all too common for him to glance at his phone after hours of tossing and turning to see 3 AM staring back at him in the bright light.

He had tried everything. He diligently monitored his screen time before bed, and saw no improvement. Changing the temperature of the room did nothing, his core always kept him warm anyway. He wasn’t skilled enough at dreamwalking magic to do any good. Counting sheep was laughable. Breathing exercises proved useless. Taking melatonin worked alright for a while, but night after night he could feel the effectiveness waning. Earplugs, ASMR, chamomile tea, aromatherapy, there was nothing he wasn't willing to try. And nothing made a bit of difference.

Except one.

Huxley had no problems with sleep. Within minutes of his head hitting the pillow, he was out like a light. Sleeping like a rock. It would almost be funny if it didn’t make him so jealous. Falling asleep that quickly seemed unfathomable to him, but since moving in with Hux, he got to witness it every night.

But that wasn’t all he got.

Now he had Huxley’s arm draped over his waist. The soft sensation of skin pressed up against his back. The rise and fall of his chest. That quiet, rhythmic breathing had started to lull Damien closer to sleep without even trying. He sunk deeper and deeper under the gentle weight of that arm around him. When Hux pulled him closer, curling around him, it only pulled him further into drowsiness. Huxley’s lips absently brushing the top of his head was the final push over the edge into a peaceful night.

Now when he wakes he’s content and well rested, as he rolls over to see an already smiling face. The first thing he hears is that deep, sleepy morning voice that immediately fills him with more warmth than even his core can provide.

“Mornin’ Dames.”

And damn, did that ever make it a good morning.

[magicbystarlight]

Venomous - Part Eight

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: A wife. A mother. A witch with someone else's name. That’s the life you didn’t want. So Tom offered you more.

Word Count: 3,494

Warnings: 18+, arranged marriage, a dash of paranoia, age gap relationship, assault, terrible parenting. Minors DNI.

A/N: "You fucker" has been echoing in my head for days.

Christmas came to Hogwarts with a flurry of festivity. Miniature trees decorated in House colors lined the tables of the Great Hall while their grander counterparts found homes in all the corridors and darkened corners throughout the castle. Snow had fallen continuously for days, only giving the briefest reprieve to allow the final Quidditch match of the semester the last Saturday before break. 

Abraxas had been there, as he had for every other match that had happened since the announcement of your engagement. In fact, he had been there for everything since your engagement. Every party Slughorn hosted and every Hogsmeade trip. He’d even taken over his father’s role on the Board of Governors to perform surprise inspections on the professors. Most didn’t mind, they had adored him as a student and his winning smile was difficult to overcome. It was only Professor Dumbledore who seemed to find issue with it.

“Ahh, Mr. Malfoy,” he had greeted one mid-November morning when Abraxas strolled in unannounced. “I was wondering when you’d be stopping my class. What a coincidence it also happened to be during Miss Selwyn’s period.”

Giggles and whispers had broken out around you.

“A coincidence indeed,” Abraxas had replied back easily, sending a cheeky smile your way. "It was the first time our schedules overlapped, seeing as you've been in France so often." 

Several hours later Dumbledore had summoned you into his office. He’d always been your favorite professor and you’d once had a decent rapport with him. But, much like with Rick, he’d been busy dealing with things related to Grindelwald recently.

“I would like to apologize,” he had said as he placed a cup of tea in front of you, “for this morning. I shouldn’t have made any mention of you to Mr. Malfoy. Especially in front of other students.”

The spoon stirred on its own after you added a dollop of milk and a single sugar cube. “It’s alright, Professor. You were just saying what everyone else has been thinking.” 

“Yes, I suppose I was. That’s actually what I wanted to speak with you about.” He sat on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms across his chest. “It seems there’s been quite a bit of talk about you recently. And I'm concerned.”

The cup paused at your lips momentarily before you forced yourself to sip. The warm tea did little to calm the rising anxiety. “If this is about my relationship with Abraxas, I can assure you he has been nothing but a gentleman." Not even a real kiss yet. 

He shook his head. "As outdated as your engagement may be, Malfoy is not the person I'm most concerned about."

The cup clinked loudly against the plate as you sat it down. “I'm sorry, I'm not following."

He sighed, his leg bouncing as he looked out a window. "I have heard that Tom Riddle has taken an interest in you recently."

You folded your hands into your lap, fingers twisting at the Malfoy heirloom on your finger. "Has he? Seems like poor timing on his part, considering." The rumors surrounding him and you had settled, people more interested in the abrupt engagement. But Tom still watched. Not as often or as overtly, just more maliciously. A snake stalking wounded prey, waiting for the chance to strike its final blow.

"Yes, it would appear so." His leg stilled. "But, I promised your brother I’d keep an eye on you and I feel that I must warn you Tom…he isn’t all that he appears."

You wanted to scoff. His warning had come months too late. Whatever gossip he'd heard was outdated.

But no one had ever warned you about Tom before. Abigail had disliked and discouraged associating with him, but that had been about his unknown blood status. Dumbledore's tone suggested something more sinister. You knew he was dangerous. But how did Dumbledore?

You couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward, voice lowered. "Is there something I should know, Professor? Has he done something?"

"No," he said, finally pulling his gaze off the window with a tight grin. "It's just an old man's intuition." The smile didn’t reach his piercing gaze.

The ghost of a hand gripped your throat, the cold anger in dark eyes seeping into the blue of Dumbledore's. He was going to kill you. He was going to kill you. No. No.

No.

You blinked, shaking your head as your back met the chair. He didn't kill you. He'd never have that chance again either. "You have nothing to worry about then. I have no interest in engaging in any sort of relationship with Tom Riddle." 

The conversation had been strange. In the end it left you with more questions about Tom and that sort of curiosity was dangerous.

Dumbledore's meeting had proved useful, at least. He understood an inquisitive mind and, with a simple promise of a future essay on whatever you found, you left his office with a note allowing nearly unrestricted access to the Restricted Section to research Old Magicks. 

Not that you found much time to use it. The future Mrs. Malfoy was in high demand. Gossiping gaggles of girls wishing to be seen as part of your circle. Boastiters bustles of boys who wanted to get in good with Abraxas. Predictably pompous packs of Purebloods who thought they were important enough to take up your time. Perhaps it wasn't fair to shove them all into such narrow groupings, but the sheer amount of them had become so overwhelming that it had was impossible to separate the individuals from the mob.

It was only now, the few hours between the final exam of the semester and the beginning of Christmas Break, that you'd managed to steal away to the library without notice. Books were skewed across tables, parchment splattered unceremoniously with notes in nearly illegible script of anything that could be useful for the future. Unlike the main library, the Restricted Sections held no catalog. It seemed a terrible oversight. Perhaps you could help Madam Gormount create one.

You were bent over a table, flipping through the index of another book you’d pulled off the shelf when soft footsteps broke through the silence. Muscles tensed as your eyes flew frantically to your wand that lay discarded two tables away. The steps grew closer and closer and you scrambled to it, your fingers grasping the wood just as a figure darkened the gaps of the shelves.                                           

"Little Bird?" Abraxas paused in the space between two shelves, eyebrows raised at the wand pointed at him.

"Brax," you breathed, dropping the wand back onto the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you."

He chuckled. "I feel privileged to have been spared your wrath. From what Merrythought said, I can imagine the damage you would have done to some other poor soul who interrupted your studying."

"I was only going to incapac—" you cut yourself off and stared back at him in disbelife. "Have you been asking about my grades?"

He grimaced, having the decency to look ashamed of himself. "Once or twice."

"Perhaps I should start calling you my father rather than my fiancé," you teased as he joined you.

"Then I would be forced to tell you it is well past your bedtime, young lady," he retorted, pressing a kiss against your forehead. Your hair jostled as he laughed at you swatting his arm.

The rumors surrounding the engagement hadn’t been as egregious as they could have been thanks to your forethought, but there had still been whispers surrounding it. Some afraid you were being taken advantage of, others wondering what sort of blackmail you had to force Abraxas Malfoy into the arranged marriage. Those rumors were easy to refute without uttering a word. Abraxas, above all else, was your friend. Smiles came naturally, an ease between you that had been built through the years. Of course, that only led to rumors of an Imperious Curse or love potion. 

"Looking for your mysterious old magic?" he asked, eyeing the mess of books, parchment, and an ink bottle knocked over with its spillage dripping off the table.

Tapping your wand against the table, the mess began to right itself. Ink retreated back into its bottle. Parchment straigtened itself into a pile. Books closed. "In vain, so far."

“Perhaps we can spend some time in the library at the Manor over your break."

You gazed up at him fondly. "You certainly know how to woo a woman, Mr. Malfoy."

—

The silence was deafening as the compartment door slid shut. It had been weeks since you'd said more than a couple words in passing to Larissa and even longer since you had spoken to Abigail at all. You had been determined to make that even longer, but you'd come back from breakfast to find two small presents sitting on top of your trunk. Larissa had given a framed photo of the three of you from Third Year, smiling happily in a booth at The Three Broomsticks. A sweet momento of a happier time.

Abigail's gift was a romance by one of her favorite muggle authors. "A Marriage Not-So-Convenient." A gift had never made you laugh so hard before. Only Abigail would think to give a novel about an arranged marriage to apologize for her part in creating yours.

"I'm sorry," Abigail spoke quietly as you sat across from her.

"Me too," Larissa added.

You reached out and gripped their hands. "I'm sorry." That was all that needed to be said between you.

"I'll be with the Malfoy's for most of break, but I want a day for us in Diagon Alley. My treat, whatever you want."

"We can go look at wedding dresses!"

“Too soon, Issa,” Abigail scolded Larissa like she hadn’t gifted you a book about an arranged marriage this morning.

“It’s fine.” You squeezed their hands. “But I think we should save the dress shopping for summer. I need a day to be a normal eighteen year old.”

Abigail gave a sad smile. “Of course.”

“Are you going to tell us how it happened?” Larissa asked. “How it really happened.”

They must have heard the rumors. Of course they had. “He did it to protect me.”

“How roman—“ Larissa’s squeal was cut off by Abigail’s elbow to her side. “Ow!”

“It is romantic,” you said, leaning back into the seat. “Brax is…perfect. I’m almost glad this is happening.”

Abigail always knew you better. “Almost.”

Your eyes dropped to the ring that weighed heavily on your finger. A witch of someone else’s name. “Almost.”

—

“Don’t you think it a tad selfish, my dear, to deprive Abraxas of his wife for so long?” 

The grip on your drink tightened at the question. Velena Fawley lacked the skills many in her position as the Minister’s wife should have. Her hosting etiqutte left much to be desired, with her half drunk before half her guest had even arrived, but the most egrigious was her lack of subtletly in conversation. 

“Yes, it is nice for a young woman to have her education these days, but you certainly won’t need it.” A splash of her drink landed on your bare arm as her hands gestured mindlessly. “But a man, well, he has certain physical needs and unless you want him looking to others to fulfill them...”

You almost missed the days when you avoided these parties, (rightfully) frightened of Tom. At least you had  not been subjected to these sorts of interactions. Now and for the foreseeable future, however, these sorts of events would be completely unavoidable as Mrs. Malfoy. Abraxas had promised to stay by your side the entire night, but he'd been pulled off somewhere by someone minutes after your arrival and you hadn't seen him since. All evening you'd been pestered with talk of your engagement. Some were simple congratulations. Others were like Velena, questioning why the wedding needed to wait for schooling to finish when you were already of age. A few had already begun to blindly attempt to curry your favor.

The worst had been Cantankerus Nott, a widower with children older than Abraxas, who had expressed his displeasure at not having the opportunity to bid for your hand. A shiver ran down your spin remembering the way he’d leered. The teal gown you wore seemed too thin, too revealing under his gaze.

“—no one likes to think about their husband—or fiancé for you, I suppose, going off and getting it wet, but he very well could if you are forcing him to wait more than a year—“

“I appreciate your concern,” you cut in, unsure how much longer you could bear to hear her prattle, “it is an honor to have the Minister's wife of all people worry for me. But I have taken up too much of your time. So many of your wonderful, important guests must crave even a fraction of what you've given me.” 

She blinked several times, her alcohol addled mind needing a few more seconds to take in the words. Her eyes widened as she finally comprehended. "Oh, yes! I am the hostess, aren't I? Well lovely chatting with you dear!" Someone behind you caught her attention and she was off.

Navigating through the horde in the opposite direction, you kept your head down to avoid being stopped and dragged into another mind-numbing conversation. How anyone thought a political spectacle like this was a proper way to spend Christmas Eve you could never comprehend. 

Larissa had told you rather happily of her family’s traditions that involved only themselves, seasonal treats, and silly children’s games. Abigail rarely spoke of her home life, knowing neither you nor Larissa could quite understand the Muggle world she’d been forced to grow up in, but you recalled her fond smile once when she spoke about getting to help with a play every year. 

Downing what was left of your drink, you set the glass on one of the trays that floated by and scanned the room for a friendly face. A cousin from school hopefully. At least they'd gotten their fill of your engagement already. Instead it was your mother's disapproving glare you found.

The days you’d spent at Malfoy Manor hadn’t saved you from her presence and it seemed a party full of people wouldn’t either. “Enjoying yourself, are you?" she asked as you came to stand beside her. 

"It was rosewater."

Her contentious huff made you wonder if Velena had a point in being blissfully drunk. Perhaps then you could have some tiny enjoyment in your mother’s company. “I have not seen Abraxas with you since we arrived. Did he bore of you so quickly?”

You bit your tongue. Selene Selwyn, you'd realized recently, was bitter. Bitter at the life that had been forced on her, the man she had married, the children she did not want, the expectations put on her that were impossible to reach. She was bitter that she’d done the same to you, but you’d managed to secure the Malfoy heir while all she'd gotten was one of the Selwyns. 

“I’ve monopolized much of his time recently, he deserves some with his friends.” 

"Find him," she instructed, "people are already talking about him regretting the engagement." She leaned in and lowered her voice. "For once in your life don't embarrass this family." She left you with one last sharp look before pulling her face into a smile and walking off. 

Bitter old hag. You hated her. Gods, did you hate her.

The night's air stung as you stepped out of the party onto the balcony. During the summer and spring, it would be packed with people enjoying the view of the blossomed Fawley Garden. Few dared to brave it in the frigid temperature for the decayed scene it held now. Long, thin, shafts of light spilled across it from the half draped sets of glass doors that lined it, the rest of it barely lit by the sliver of waxing moon. In the darkness between two beams of the light, you rested your back against the stone railing. 

It had been a bitter discovery when you'd stepped off the train to find your mother with Abraxas. You'd expected to see her for a dinner or two, in passing at parties, for the annual New Year's Lunch with her parents, but that you'd be mostly free of her. You weren't. Your invitation to stay at Malfoy Manor during the holiday had been extended to her. The scrutiny you'd been under at Hogwarts was nothing in comparison to her's. Every insignificant detail of your appearance and interactions with Abraxas and his parents was nitpicked. Any free time you'd hoped to have with Abraxas perosing his library was thwarted by her desire to carve out the details of the wedding that didn’t even have a date set yet.

Even now, of age and engaged, your mother had control of everything. 

A familiar flash of silver blonde hair caught your eye. Your first sighting of your fiancé in hours. Vaguely familiar people of status and wealth surrounded him. If you stared long enough you could probably recall their names. You turned your back to the window to stare over the dead foliage instead.

In a few days you’d be with your friends. In a few more you’d be back at Hogwarts. There was a New Year’s Eve party you were meant to attend between then, but maybe Abraxas could be convinced to slip away early and enjoy the beginning of a new year tucked away in his library. All you needed was to get through the night. 

Two figures appeared with loud pops in the middle of the lifeless garden. It was one thing to be late to a party, but this late? You straightened trying to make out who they were, but they were too far and there was too little light. They walked quickly and their voices carried, but not enough to hear what they were saying or identify who they were.

You stayed hidden in the shadows until finally you could make out their faces. One was Theseus Scamander, Head Auror. The other was your brother.

“Rick!” You nearly tripped down the stairs as you ran to meet them and smashed into your brother. It had been so long, too long, since you’d seen him. You held him tight. And as his arms wrapped around you tears welled.

"Hey, kiddo," he said with a hitch in his voice. “I’ve missed you.”

More words caught in your throat, too overwhelmed to speak. Rick was here. A bit shaggier, his beard scratching against your scalp, but here. 

He pulled away too soon. 

“Why are you here? Weren’t you avoiding parties?”

 “I was.” Your fingers flexed at your side. “But I can't really do that anymore.”

Warrick’s brows knitted together, but his response was interrupted.

"I'm very sorry to cut this short, but we're already late." Thesesus gave a tight lipped smile.

He sighed as he checked his watch. "Right.” He squeezed your arm lightly. “We're here on business. But I’ll be by tomorrow and we’ll catch up then. Okay?”

He was already following his boss up the stairs. Their stride was much quicker than yours and you struggled to keep up. "Okay, but I'm not at home for break."

"Really? Mum finally let you stay at Hogwarts?” Blast his long legs. He was nearly at the top.

"No.” You caught yourself against the rail, tripped by your dress catching under your shoe. “I’m staying with Abraxas.”

He stopped. “Why?”

“Have you not read a single letter in the past few months?” You were more out of breath than you liked when you caught up with him. The emerald caught the moonlight as you held up your hand. “We’re engaged.”

Warrick stared at the ring. “Engaged?”

“Merlin, Rick! It’s all anyone’s been bloody talking about! I’ve written three times about it!”

He didn’t have the decency to apologize. Instead roaming his harsh gaze over the doors until he found what he was looking for. He set off without a word.

“Rick!” Theseus called, clambering after him. He tried grabbing his arm, but your brother slipped out of his grip easily.

You too scrambled after him, lifting your dress. You couldn’t quite understand what was happening, but you knew it was not good. “Rick, stop!”

He swung open a set of doors. People were shoved out of the way and a chorus of annoyance sounded. You got to the doors just in time to see him approach Abraxas.

"You fucker," Warrick thundered before pulling back his arm and smashing his fist into Abraxas' face.

Abraxas stumbled backwards knocking into more guests. Blood seeped out of his nose. 

Warrick raised his arm again. "My sister! My little sister! She's a child you sick—" His voice cut off and his entire body froze.

Theseus lowered his wand.

The sound of clicking followed a dozen flashing lights.

Next

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc @bluegiraffeplushie

Venomous Tag List: @pearlsofme @fck-this @ambria @sheeple @strangunddurm @weirdowithnobeardo @emberenchanted

[wildemaven]

The Beginning: The Proposal

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

WC: 3528

Warnings: language, established relationship, 2nd POV, mentions of food and drinks, im going to refrain from any other things to not give anything away, but it’s all fluff

A/N: It’s here!! I’m excited and nervous!! Happy to give these to a little more love and a little bit more backstory to them. Normally I have a full blown moodboard (and I do) but it would give away too much so I’m opting to not have one but if you’re interested in seeing it, I can post it in like a separate “spoilers below” post. Also, reader’s nickname is revealed in this, so any future posts will have it when referring to her (so much easier to when trying to avoid a name). And last but not least, their song picked by y’all is Lover by T.Swift and there’s a playlist linked below.

Edited to add a big thank you to @noisynaia for letting scream at her my thoughts!!!

Okay. I hope you like it. And if you ever want to scream about these two with me, my ask box is always open.

Previous / Series Masterlist / The Proposal Playlist / Weekends Masterlist

Sometimes the beauty of life is allowing it happen organically.

Delicate bits of time woven together through fleeting moments— in varying degrees of inconsequential or life changing events.

Momentous is how you would describe your life in a single word at this very moment in time.

The last 6 months had been a whirlwind for you and Frankie. Since that night you’d both not only confessed your love to each other, but also deciding to spend the rest of time together.

You’d convinced your landlord to let you out if your lease early, due to you being a exemplary tenant for several years. With the help of Frankie and the guys, you were able to box up your things and move into Frankie’s house across town.

It had taken a few weeks to unpack your life into this new space, but you felt a sense of accomplishment once everything had a place and mixed in effortlessly with Frankie’s belongings.

You’d both decided early on to keep your engagement to yourselves— a secret for the two of you to savor and enjoy.

Not that you were worried about what others might think, but this felt like a special kind of thing you wanted to bask in before sharing with your loved ones.

And when the time was right, everyone would know.

*

Your schedules had been booked and busy, so you’d both decided to take a random Friday off to spend some extra time together. You were excited to have a 3 day weekend, alone with your fiancé. Which also meant sleeping in as late as you wanted and taking your leisure time to extricate yourself from your cozy lush surroundings.

The bed dips a bit as you turn and stretch out your slow waking form.

“Time to get up sleepy head.” His voice is still your favorite part of waking up. The soft cadence tickles every inch of your body, better than any cup of coffee ever could.

“You let me sleep in, thank you.”

“You looked comfy all wrapped up, figured you could use a few more hours.”

He kisses you, it’s sweet and laced with a hint of bitterness from his morning coffee.

“Mmm! Good morning handsome.”

“Mornin’ Beautiful. There’s a coffee and a danish on the nightstand for you.” You shoot him a questioning look, amusingly taken aback and confused. “Don’t look at me like that. They were all out of croissants this morning, so I went with your second favorite.”

You accept the offer, rolling on to your stomach to reach for your coffee. You get lost in the first sip and savor its creamy rich flavor as it hits every waiting taste bud.

“Alright sleeping beauty. Time to get your ass outta bed and get ready.” Giving your backside a few pats before heading for the bedroom door. “Our appointment is at 3 and then dinner reservations are at 6. Gonna go iron my shirt and clean up my shoes.”

“Hey!” Playfully yelling for his attention as he walks away.

He stops just outside the door, turning back towards you.

“I love you.” He serious expression relaxes and his face lighting up instantly.

“I love you too.” He shoots you a wink before turning to carry on.

It takes you a minute to get yourself up and moving. Bites of your delicious danish and sips of your warm latte aid in your efforts to get yourself ready.

Your mundane routine of showering and prepping for the day were taken at a deliberate pace. Enjoying the balmy spray of the water, soothing the slight aches and pains that had built up over the last week, the feeling of relief is almost instant.

Toweling yourself off and slipping on your cozy rob, you finish readying yourself with a simple makeup look— nothing too fancy or bold, just enough to accentuate your most favorite features.

The garment bag containing your dress for the day was tucked away in the back of your closet. You were so excited to finally get to wear it and eager to see the look on Frankie’s face when he sees you in it.

It was muted in coloring, an off shade of white, it wasn’t anything you’d ever considered for yourself but the moment you’d tried it on there was an instant reaction of sorts. It’s silky smooth fabric hugged your body in such a way that you couldn’t help but feel like it was made for you.

Jewelry and shoes finished off the look, taking yourself in fully as you stand in front of your full length mirror. You hands smoothing over the dress, admiring every detail of your reflection.

“You look stunning.”

Your eyes immediately drawn to Frankie in the mirror leaning against the door frame.

Your breath catches at the sight of him. His head cocked to the side as he admires you, hands tucked into his pant pockets, suit jacket hugging his broad shoulders over his freshly ironed shirt— the top buttons forgotten about in true Frankie fashion.

He pushes himself off the doorframe, taking a few long strides until he is crowding behind your spot in front of the mirror.

His eye contact is direct, holding an intensity that makes you dizzy. Your body tingles when his large hands slowly rest on your shoulders, his thumbs toying at the delicate straps of your dress.

“Frankie…” His name floats over your lips as you look at him with an ardent smile.

His eyes never stop watching you as he leans down pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, your eyelids flutter as the sensation of his lips ripples through your body.

Your hand comes up to caress the side of his face, his beard trimmed down, the stubble causing a bit of resistance to your touch.

You can’t help the tiny moan that escapes from your throat as Frankie begins to press kiss after kiss along your neck, tilting your head to completely give into to his wandering mouth.

“If you don’t stop, we’re never going to be on time.” Your breathless, knowing that it’s a slippery slop of carnal desire once things start to heat up.

He kisses you one last time before standing to his full height.

“You look so pretty.”

“Pretty?” His eyebrow raises at your comment, not he doesn’t think a man can be pretty, he’s just never saw himself as such.

You turn so you’re fully facing him, hands resting on his chest as you look at him with a sweet gaze. “Yes, pretty. And your hair looks good too.” Your fingers lightly combs through the sides just purely for the experience of touching him some more.

“You think so??” You nod softly and lean into kiss him gently.

“Let’s go handsome.”

*

It was a 45 minute drive, which gave you both plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company. Chats about work and plans for the next few months permeated the truck cabin. 70’s ballads filled the in between silence, but usually evoking laughter from you as Frankie would do his best to stay in tune with the music.

This was now a regular feature in both of your lives. These days spent together, relishing each and every moment, were your favorite. Weekends alone or with friends had you craving adventure as much as possible. But even the slow paced weekends, at home had become a cherished time for the both of you, wanting to absorb each and every moment before the work week was knocking at the door.

The large building towers over the street as Frankie pulls into the parking spot. Its florid design was beautiful for a giant cement building, the front covered in windows and ornate decorative details that are reminiscent of older times.

The weather is warm and sunny as you make your way to the building, Frankie’s grasp on your hand is grounding, giving it a few subtle squeezes as you walk through the glass doors.

The air inside feels cold and stale as you wait for the next available window, very on brand for such a building. A slight shiver has Frankie pulling you in to him, wrapping you in his warmth.

“Next!”

“Good afternoon ma’am. We have an appointment, should be under Morales.”

She doesn’t respond as she clicks away at her keyboard, squinting at her computer screen through her wide-rim glasses.

“Do you have all your proper documentation with you today?” Straight to the point and zero enthusiasm in her tone.

“Uh, yes ma’am.” Frankie hands her the small stack of papers she had asked for. You squeeze his hand now, 3 times as a silent ‘I love you’.

“It’s says here Mr. Morales you’re previously divorced. Do you have proof of dissolution? Otherwise you may not proceed with your application.” She asks as she continues to hold the papers that she hasn’t looked at yet, not even looking away from the screen.

“Yes. It’s in the with the other papers. It was an amicable dissolution, we both signed and agreed to end the marriage—“

“I don’t need your life story sir, just the proper paperwork.”

“Right. Sorry, ma’am.” 3 more squeezes to his sweaty hand, thankful that Frankie is handling her crankiness so calmly and with a smile. She clearly has been doing this for years and has zero intention of small talk.

Her fingers continue to click more buttons and she scans through the papers, inputting the information into the proper boxes. And after what feels like a long process, she’s printing out some new documents, stacking them with the ones you’d given her and hands them back to Frankie.

“Please wait for your name to be called.” Barely making eye contact as she adjusts herself in her chair.

“Thank you ma’am. Have a great weekend.”

“Mhmm. Next!”

“Clearly your charming good looks had no effect on her.” You snicker into Frankie’s shoulder as you both walk to the sitting area, trying to keep your comment contained between the two of you.

The minutes tick by, the space is eerily quiet, so you keep talking to a minimum while you wait.

The other chairs are filled with what look like other couples, all most likely there for the same reason.

You take in the sweet older couple who sits across from you. They must be in their 80’s and yet they have a young innocence that seems to envelop them. Their hands anchoring them to each other as they sit snuggled in sweetly. You can’t make out their conversation, but the way she is smiling and looking at him, it feels like she completely taken by him as has been for awhile. He pats her fragile little hands as he talks and every few minutes he looks at her like she’s the only one in the room— your heart nearly implodes at the gentle kiss he gives her forehead.

It’s like you’re looking at a glimpse of your future. A love so authentic and undying, strong enough to endure hardships, a vivid and passionate life together that never gets tiring.

The soft whisper of your name catches your attention.

“You okay?” 3 gentle squeezes to your hand, the reciprocated gesture tugging at your heart.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just happy to be here with you.” You smile emphasizing your words.

“Alight, we have Morales up next! Please make your way through these doors and the commissioner is waiting for you up at the front.”

*

Entering the room, you’re welcomed by a lady standing behind a wooden podium— she’s already more inviting than the older one at the front desk.

Frankie’s hand is anchored to your lower back as you both make your way closer to her. Frankie hands her the papers she’s needs and you both wait for her to begin.

“Welcome. I have a few more couples after you so let’s get started. Do you have any witnesses with you today?”

“No ma’am we do not.”

“Okay, that’s fine, not a requirement in the state of Florida. And will you be exchanging rings today?”

“No ma’am, we do not have rings.”

“Well, this might just be the easiest one today.” She laughs a bit as she shuffled her papers around a bit.

“I’m going to ask you both to face each other while I read the declaration of intent.”

You can feel the emotions already flowing through you, as you look at Frankie. This man has gifted you with so much in such a short amount of time and you can’t help but feel so grateful for this life you’re about to begin.

“Please join hands.”

Frankie takes yours in his, his is touch is the most powerful thing you have ever felt.

“Francisco, do you take—“ There’s an pang in your chest as she says your name, but it’s not a heavy feeling, it’s light and airy as she continues reading from her paper. “To be your lawful wedded partner?”

“I do.”

His thumb sweeps back and forth across the top of your hand, his smile is beaming with elation.

“… do you take Francisco to be your lawful wedding partner?”

“I do.” There’s a slight crack when you say it, emotion fully overtaking your voice.

“… you have come here today on your own free will and declared your love for one and other.”

Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you look back at Frankie, your whole body feels like it’s floating on a blissful cloud. He wipes each tear and gently rubs your cheekbone, you lean into his touch.

“You have joined yourselves in matrimony. May you aim all your lives to meet this commitment and celebrate

in each other's company. And now that you have given and pledged your love and have stated so by joining

hands, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the State of Florida as Deputy Marriage Commissioner, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss.”

And you do. It’s unlike any kiss you have ever experienced before. It’s all-encompassing and heart-stopping, pouring out all the love you have for one another— his lips feel like forever.

Wedded bliss is intoxicating. An indescribable feeling of starting this new chapter together and looking forward to a future where it’s the two of you steadfast in your fidelity and aspirations.

*

Driving straight from the courthouse, you’d both felt slightly over dressed at your favorite restaurant, it’s casual setting a stark contrast from your wedding attire. In the short time together, you’d both become regulars, dining in or takeout had become a weekly occurrence.

Frankie had made the reservation and must have mentioned it was a special occasion because the table is nestled in a corner that was secluded from the rest of the restaurant. Lit candles and small arrangement of flowers placed in the center.

You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect post wedding celebration. Indulging in your favorite dishes as you reflect on the day, it all still feeling surreal and fresh. The staff also gifting a slice of cake, a little congratulations on your new marriage.

“How long should we keep it from them? Santi’s going to be pissed when he finds out. I can already see that assholes face.”

You laugh because you know he’s right, but you know he’ll be happy for you both, they all will.

“How about we wait a month. Then we can invite everyone over for dinner, the weather’s been nice too, so maybe we pull out the bbq even and we tell them then. I mean, we made it 6 months engaged and none of them had a single clue. I like the thought of this being between us for a little bit.”

“That sounds like a great plan.” He leans over and looks at you with an almost devilish smirk. “Now, let’s get home so I can get you out of that fucking dress.”

“Mr. Morales, you have quiet the mouth on you.” You tease amusingly.

“Well Mrs. Morales, this mouth also has plans for you this evening.” His tone hushed as he spoke, a wink to seal his response.

You close the space between you, feeling his plush lips against yours. “Then take me home soldier.” Your tongue peeking out, the softest lick to his lips before pulling away and settling back into your chair.

“Can we get the check?!”

*

It was dark by the time Frankie pull the truck into the drive way. The stars like little fireflies lighting the sky and the moon silently vigilant as it settles in for the night.

“Did we leave a light on before we left?” Unbuckling yourself and noticing a faint light illuminating the front room, a slight panic creeping in your eyes.

“Hmm, I thought we turned them all off. Go head on in and check it out, I’m gonna lock up the truck and grab the leftovers.”

Thankfully the door is secured and you don’t see any sign of a break-in or anything out of place, relief washing over you.

Stepping through the threshold into the house you’re met with an unexpected sight. Dozens of white roses on every surface surround the open room, the floor draped in a sea of white petals. Bouquets covering the kitchen island where small candles are lit, the glow you saw from the window, more bouquets as you look into the living room.

You’re completely speechless and in awe of the beauty of the room and you’re so confused trying to figure out where they all came from. Clearly someone did break in? But decorated with flowers and locked up after they left…

Footsteps through the doorway bring your attention back to your surroundings, their presence stopping behind you.

“Frankie? What are all these flowers doing here?”

He doesn’t respond, but you can sense that he’s there. Pulling your eyes away from the flowers you turn to face Frankie, except he’s not level with you when you do so.

There before you is Frankie, your husband, kneeling on one knee looking up at you holding a small box in his hands.

“Frankie?” A wave of shock and elation crash over you in a matter of seconds. “What are you doing?”

“Hermosa… I know you said you didn’t need some big extravagant proposal and seeing as how we just got married just a few hours ago 6 months after meeting, we definitely don’t follow traditions.” His voice is so soft, and his eyes have never looked brighter.

“This is me promising you a future, a life where you are not alone. From the moment I met you, I knew I wanted to be apart of your life in some capacity and I wanted to make you smile everyday because it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Everyday I wake and think of you and when I sleep I think of you, you consume me with your laughter and your words of encouragement and your ability to live without abandonment.” You gasp as he slowly opens the small box revealing a ring. The design is simple and elegant, a beautiful stone setting with a unique design on a wider gold band.

“Te amo Hermosa. Will you be mine forever?”

You can’t stop the tears that are pouring down your face, you can’t even properly form any words as you nod your head reaching out for him, standing to his full height, placing the ring on your finger.

“I just need to double check that was a yes?”

“Yes! A million times yes!” You laugh through the still streaming tears, swatting at his chest as you look down at your hand, the ring sitting perfectly on your finger.

“How did you manage to get this all set up? It’s beautiful by the way.”

“I enlisted Hannah to help.”

“Hannah knows?!”

“No. No she doesn’t know what it was for exactly. I just said I wanted to surprise you after a dinner with flowers, I didn’t realize she was going to go all out. Remind me to check my credit card later.”

You kiss him, soaking in the moment with him. “I love you Frankie.” You whisper against his lips before you begin kissing him again.

“Wait, there’s one more thing.” He states as he pulls out his phone. “I also had Hannah show me how to use my phone with the speaker, something about blue teeth?”

It takes him a minute to get it connected, but he manages to get it hooked up. Music begins to play, it’s a softer song and you realize it’s one of your favorites. You’ve played it numerous times over the last few months, claiming that the song remind you of yours and Frankie’s love for each other.

“Can I have this dance?” Tossing his phone to the couch and holding his hand out to you.

“Always.”

The song played on as you both held each other, the soft sway of your bodies around the room. The flicker of the candles still adding a touch of light, laughter and kisses exchanged as he spins you about.

This was only the beginning.