#I’m going to spoil the meaning here so don’t look at the tags if you want to figure it out

[hiya-im-mary]

HI HELLO I AM OBSERVING!!!!!!!!!!!!

👁👁

⬆️ those right there are my observing eyes!!! :D

Hi I wrote something for comfort and thought I'd put it here for those of you who said you enjoy my writing 💜

[staryuee]

LOVE TRIAL!

GUILTY AREN’T I? OF ALL MY LOVE CRIMES…

— [warnings]. [mentions of drinking (venti)]

— synopsis . . . [char] has decided to come clean and acknowledge all the facts necessary for conviction. the conviction? they’re in love with you.

(more simply, them just being hopeless losers that are in love with you hcs ๑>◡<๑)

— characters . . . venti, zhongli, tartaglia, wanderer, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, navia, clorinde, arlecchino

— notes . . . i can't go on the genshin x reader tag anymore bc of the amount of smut on it, i’m so loved starved rn…*sighs dramatically* i added venti & zhongli purely bc i love them (plus they’d also be on trial for war reasons so hehe)

VENTI — 温迪

love is quite similar to the wind in a way. comes quickly, randomly, it can hit you hard, it can be gentle and peaceful yet it can also be irritating and noisy.

currently, venti was feeling all the negatives: drunk, irritated, and his heartbeat drowning out any exterior noises to the degree he didn’t even hear your recognisable footsteps entering angel’s share. normally, he’d instantly perk up at the mere glimpse of you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to even bother raising his head up from his arms anymore.

“venti? someone asked me to come check up on you…you alright? (o*｡_｡)o” you gently touched his back in comfort which just made his heart swell.

“mfh…i’m—hic—okay (ﾟヘﾟ)?” he responds nonchalantly.

“yeah, you sound very self-assured don’t you...come here then.”

“drink with me… (♡´𓋰`♡)”

“nope, i’m getting you far away from angel’s share, this is bad, even for you.” you speak to him so softly it almost makes him sleepy as you attempt to lift him up. venti wrapped his arms around your neck in response, pouting at you with a hazy and dizzy look.

his hand travels to your cheek, delicately caressing it with weird concentration. he leans into what seems like a kiss before pausing and resting his forehead onto your shoulder instead. he whispers in a delicate and dreamy tone, “i love you… too much.”

ZHONGLI — 钟离

zhongli fiddled with the brooch you gifted him while out on a stroll the other day with a complaisant smile, humming a tune to himself that he specifically remembered you sung. it was such a lovely melody, something so serene and gentle it was almost like the feeling of sunlight on your skin. or perhaps that was only the case because you sung it?

he’s an ancient being with countless of prior lifetimes and ones ahead; he’s no lovesick fool, but he couldn’t deny that the giddy feeling in his churning stomach, and the swirling of his heart is a rather enticing experience, one which he cannot tire from.

his mind traced back to the short hangout you had earlier today; nothing unusual, just a walk around liyue harbour with his hand inching closer to yours, breath hitching at the minute contact before he retracted his hand to awkwardly play with his rings. oh, and that angelic smile that he loved so much…

zhongli traced his bottom lip, imagining it as your own as a silly smile graced his face at his delusion. would you lean into his touch? move away? be startled, confused, or even worried? would you look away? or…

ahh…perhaps, he’s a little head over heels for you, alright?

TARTAGLIA — 公子

“tartaglia, please. this is seriously too much!!” he crumpled another letter with that specific and significant order and threw it skillfully over into the bin. there’s no such thing as “too much” when it comes to showering someone with gifts, ESPECIALLY during important holidays and events! at least that’s what tartaglia’s delusional lovesick mind has led him to wholeheartedly believe.

he gazes over at the countless trinkets you’ve given him over the course of your adventures and vacations; i mean if you can do it, why can’t he? little does he realise that “trinkets” is much more acceptable than “gifts that pile up to your ceiling at the end of each week”.

it makes sense for you to want to spoil someone any way you can if you love them.

…love them?? did he love you? i mean, he accepts your affection like it’s a natural instinct, sends you letters and gifts biweekly, his entire family knows you, and whenever you exchange gifts during holidays he purposefully skims his fingers over yours.

but that’s all just friendly gestures…okay listen he may have believed santa clause (or the teyvat equivalent…?) was real for several years because of pulcinella but he’s not THAT horrifically oblivious (grits teeth). he absolutely adores you, and the letters he has stashed away, that could practically count as love confessions due to how descriptive they are of your character, are solid evidence.

WANDERER — 流浪者

your mind has three defense mechanisms against impactful events: repression, denial and displacement. all of which were prevalent with the wanderer.

he pushed the conscious memories of abandonment into his unconscious, he ignored the reality of his feelings for you to avoid any form of attachment, and proceeded to take out his anger onto you because of the way you made him feel.

he’s convinced himself he hates you.

hate, within the context of a romantic relationship, arises mainly from a relational betrayal. betrayal trauma can feel an awful lot like the dull and lingering pain after a swift punch to the gut. the person who hurt you isn't a stranger, yet when they leave, it certainly feels like you never knew them at all.

that’s precisely why he can’t fall for you…but he does so anyway; because how was he meant to override the childish fluttering in his prototype heart whenever you gently brushed your shoulders together when walking, or when your eyes met and you instantly smiled at him so stupidly?

and well, he isn’t really doing a good job of pretending he hates you when he lets you touch him so freely, or when he seeks your simple affections out without shame…

☆ ITTY BITTY SPOILERS ☆ for both fontaine archon quests 🐳

LYNEY — 林尼

lyney rubbed his weary eyes as the light began to settle into his view. while initially blurry, after blinking a few times, lyney realised exactly where he was; the opera epiclese. yet he’s not standing where he and his twin would be if they were preforming a magic show, rather, he was standing directly where an accused perpetrator would.

despite how hazy he felt, that tinge of anxiety managed to bubble into his stomach to ironically stabilise him. the stomping sound of a cane reverberated through the room which fixed his attention to the iudex. “order.” his voice caused lyney to grimace whatever words he’d utter next. why was he reliving this moment?

“mister lyney, i hereby declare you as guilty in this love trial.”

lyney couldn’t help but blink and tilt his head in confusion…what kind of trial? was that some sort of code? 【・_・?】

“with no further objections, the oratrice shall now deliver its final verdict.” however, before he could hear the motions of the machine in action, he awoke: sweaty, confused, and face flushed a brilliant red hue. lyney glanced over at his bedside table, his cheeks tinting even redder at the sight of a rose that he gained from your fine hands.

maybe that dream was trying to tell him something…(｡•́︿•̀｡)

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

recently, the skies of fontaine have been ever so clear. every blemish of grey spotted clouds disarrayed into a flurry of white, the sun blazing out and making it the most perfect atmosphere for a pleasant summer. though…this was the middle of october, so this particular weather puzzled the fontaine citizens, albeit with little complaint.

neuvillette sat in his office with a gentle and subtle smile expressed his soft features, although he maintained that ‘air’ of professionalism as he went over a recent investigation, he subconsciously grazed his fingertips over a letter with your name on it.

to neuvillette, love is a lot like a trial (or perhaps that’s the only analogy he can conjure up to comprehend his deepening feelings for you). you put yourself out there, presenting your best case for why you deserve to be loved, just as a lawyer presents their case for why their client is innocent. it involves the same sense of vulnerability, uncertainty, and even risk: you don't know how the outcome will turn out, and you have to have faith in the process and trust in the person who is judging (or loving) you.

his judgement about you, however, doesn’t need much thought or even a confirmation of the verdict with the oratrice. he’s in love with you, devoted, if you will. and perhaps, if you’re willing, he’d be happy to make a whole argumentative case on why you deserve him.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

he’s very tempted to make a case against you.

you’ve committed the most heinous crime known to teyvat, one which no person has had the courage to fulfil:

stealing his heart.

how long would he have you down in the fortress for to pay for your crimes? glad you asked, because he’s made an entire mental plan for whenever you visit him in the fortress of meropide (for whatever reason…let’s just hope it’s nothing TOO bad ahaha…. ._.)

your sentence would depend on how long it takes for you to fall for him too. god he’s never realised how much of an absolute loser he can be when enamoured it actually makes him angry. if you could see the way he low-key giggles and plays with his hair at even the slightest glimpse of you, he’s assured your sentence would be several years instead of his hopeful couple months (unless you’re already in love with him then…hey.)

i’m pretty certain if he could, he’d send you a letter that says “haha, what if we kissed? just kidding! unless…”

yeah, he’s THAT level of loser for you. (*´∀｀*)

NAVIA — 娜维娅

valentine’s day has become her favourite holiday! not for any “particular” reason…certainly not because she can use the day to “platonically” spoil you with food and subtle affection whenever she pleases.

“happy valentine’s day! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡” navia smiles at you and bows, presenting you a pink bag glittered in hearts, a cute bow on of one of the handles. you smiled in response and took the bag from her gently. merely catching a sneaky peek into it you could see several little plastic bags filled with goodies and sweets, ones you assumed where baked by her fine hands.

“thank you, navia! honestly, i look forward to this every year~ (∩❛ڡ❛∩)” you laugh as you unwrap one of the brownies in the bag and begin chewing on it with a complaisant and satisfied expression. your sweet and genuine look made her heart clench in her chest, she coughs into her hand awkwardly and looks away from your lips.

“uhum, i’m glad! anyways i’ve got uhh…something to do…(｡>\\<)” she replied hastily, clutching at her chest dramatically as she left, leaving you rather confused: you continued to eat her pastries regardless of the sudden change in atmosphere, because i mean who doesn’t like free shit made specifically for you?

navia’s mind and heart felt so fuzzy as she checked her complexion in her pocket sized mirror, padding at her face with powder to futilely hide her immense blush. putting away her mirror, she flipped over her hat to reveal a matching pink letter with cursive writing on it. “sorry lyney your plan was cute and all…but i seriously can’t do this today…”

CLORINDE — 克洛琳德

harbouring her position as the best champion duelist means there’s plenty of people (people who desire death at the hands of a pretty woman.) who wish to duel or spar against her purely to see her skills personally. yet, so far there’s been no one who’s stepped up to that challenge (we can ignore tartaglia for now.)

until you, that is. you have no reason to ask to spar with her, and while she has little reason to refuse you, she does reject your requests each time. however, clorinde has learnt over time that refusing your cute face and sweet smile leaves a little bit of her hollow, so alas, one day when she had a free schedule — she accepted a spar session.

thank the hydro archon that she did because holy shit. clorinde never thought she had a type, perhaps just someone who’s the opposite of her to balance her out, but now she definitely knows you qualify. the way the sweat drips down your arms and neck, your expression fixed yet amused and the subtle vein forming on your hand as you grip your weapon…shit she’s not paying attention.

as you strike a blow that leaves her tumbling backwards onto the floor, a cheeky grin adorns your face that makes her heart skip like pebbles on a flowing river. you can boast about your win against the champion duelist for all of teyvat to hear, all she cares about is seeing that side of you again…please.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

ah well shit.

this isn’t going to exactly work now, will it? technically, falling in love with a subordinate isn’t against some sort of law or code, but a harbinger being bewitched is a different story.

arlecchino leaned against her desk with her hands resting behind her. an icy shiver ran down your spine as her eyes were practically piercing through you. did you mess up on a report or something…? was this the end…(,,>ࡇ<,,)? you’ve always thought you kept a pretty good and quite close relationship with the knave, but perhaps that was your downfall?

it’s not easy to ignore the deafening sound of her heartbeat, that alone made it even more difficult to concentrate when you’re just an arms reach away from her in her private study, with no one to bother you two. it’s futile to ignore the fluttering of your heart, therefore, arlecchino decides to saunter over to you with a poker face, something which only made you want to die on the spot.

she leaned over on your desk with her hands right on the edge, you instinctively peel your head upwards to question her with a meek voice, “is uhm, something wrong, knave?” you begged she didn’t notice the slight quiver in your voice.

“i believe,” she averts her gaze before staring directly at you with a much more softened expression, “i’ve fallen in love with you.”

I KNEW IT INSTANTLY, YOU’RE ALSO GUILTY…

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost <3

[nottsangel]

Rafe Cameron as your boyfriend

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, nsfw at the end

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the relationship

so. fucking. protective.

everyone in the outer banks knows that you’re his so they all know better than to touch you

if you’re at a party together, he either has his arm around your waist or he will keep an eye on you from the other side of the room, making sure no one makes a move on you

“rafe, please, I can take care of myself!” he would simply let out a chuckle as his grip on your waist tightens

“come sit on my lap, pretty girl” he says as his gaze is focused on the random guy that keeps checking you out

will walk over to him afterwards, “look at her again and I’ll kill you, alright?”

spoils you so much. doesn’t let you pay for anything

randomly texts you “buy yourself something nice, princess” after he transfers money to you

wheezie and sarah are like sisters to you

“rafe, can I please please record a tiktok video with y/n?” “god, wheezie, just leave us alone for a second, alright? we’re busy” but you’re already getting up and making your way to wheezie as rafe rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh

you’re the only one he truly trusts and cares about

affection

his hand is always on your waist or lower back

he doesn’t really like physical touch in public unless he feels threatened. he will make out with you in front of everyone with his hands on your ass if that’s the case

has trouble expressing how much you mean to him in words so he mostly does it through physical touch; lots of making out, hugs, hand holding, cuddling, forehead kisses etc.

plays with your hair while you’re cuddling <3

arguments

manipulative.

arguments can get very heated and he can say a lot of hurtful things to you. he has a very short temper

he will leave the room, slamming the door shut but will eventually come back after a few hours, crying and apologising to you

“please, just… don’t leave me. I can’t live without you, baby, please”

arguments with rafe are extremely mentally draining, but he is aware of his flaws and tries to do better for you

“I…I’m sorry baby. I love you, you know that, right?”

nsfw

always in control

if you’re in public together and he eyes you up and down with a smirk, just know that he’s horny and he’ll take you to the car or a public bathroom for a quickie

does not care who hears or sees you. all that matters to him is that everyone knows you’re his

“scream my name, baby. let them know who you belong to”

buys you so much lingerie. he loves going lingerie shopping with you and watching you try it on before he buys you everything you want

lots of degradation, hair pulling and choking

“my pretty little slut. you look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth”

loves fingering you with his rings on so you can feel the cold metal against your cunt

marks you with hickeys all over your body

“rafe, please. everyone will see them there” “I know, that’s the point”

can edge you for hours. especially when you’ve been misbehaving

“my poor baby. you wanna cum? then use your words and beg for it”

breeding kink!!!

fingers you after he came inside of you to keep it all in

immediately falls asleep after sex while his arms are wrapped tightly around you

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated since they keep me motivated to write more!!

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🏷 tags (join here): @vxntxque @goingbackt0505 @locker42 @wanturvideo

[xxsugarbonesxx]

Mi Valentín

Tags: full nelson, butt job, head (m receiving), fingering, hand job, groping, something about free use??? semi public sex porn WITH plot

no use of y/n afab!reader, reader has a fattie sorry but i don't make the rules 😮‍💨😔

TW!!! I am NOT a writer!! This is just something I do for funsies so don't expect much lol

She’s a beefy one so buckle up

Valentine's day is your absolute favorite holiday. A whole mushy gushy day dedicated to showing your significant other, or your friends or yourself to how much you love them and appreciate them. An excuse to dress up and go out, excessive chocolate consumption and give gifts. But, unfortunately, your beloved husband thought otherwise.  

He never liked Valentine's Day, and he had thousands of excuses too. “Why is one day out of the whole year meant to show your love when I do it all year long?” Miguel said, rolling his eyes as he chopped vegetables for dinner. It’s not like he didn’t spoil you on Valentine's day, he always took you out to a nice restaurant for dinner and got you some gifts. But he was missing the whole entire point!

“Drop it amor, I’m plenty romantic as is. Remember when I took you out to that hotel and we spent the night away from the kids?” Miguel asked, his go to excuse when you brought this topic up. He turned to face you, one hand on the counter and the other holding the knife. He had an apron on, with ‘Milfin’ Ain’t Easy’ printed on the chest. You decided it was best not to question, said apron and moved on.

“But Miggy, it’s my favorite holiday. Can’t you not be so cynical for one in your life and humor that your wife enjoys something?” You said, crossing your arms under your chest. He just snorted and continued with his cooking, you scrunch your face and turn your heel, deciding you're not gonna give him the satisfaction of your presence, you leave to go find something to keep yourself occupied or just pout while you wait for dinner.

“You know it’s a dumb holiday, mi vida. It’s like how birthdays were invented by greeting card companies to make more money.” Miguel teased as he sat down in bed next to you after dinner.

You frown and roll on your side with your back facing him to let him know how upset you are with him. He sighed and chuckled, he cuddled up against you so he was big spooning you. He ran his calloused palm over your bare leg. “Don’t be like that, mamás. You know I love you, but I just can’t get behind a holiday that’s supposed to be about showing love since I already do that everyday for you,” He pouted, kissing your cheek and patting your butt.

You sighed and sat up, “Okay, you know what. You’re right, you already do so much for me. I guess it’s a little selfish to ask for more. I just get jealous sometimes, of all my girlfriends who always talk about their partners and how romantic their Valentine’s Day is…” You admitted, it sounded silly when you say it out loud. It embarrassed you, you have an amazing husband who gave you two beautiful daughters and here you are, ungrateful all because of FOMO. 

“It’s alright, I know what you mean…but let’s not focus on that. I promised we’d never go to bed mad at each other. And we’ve had a long day, hmm? How about we get to sleep now? Since we’ve got a big week ahead of us,” Miguel asked, kissing your collarbone, he was such a smooth talker it drove you up the wall sometimes. But you nodded, kissing him back and curling up with him in bed. 

Little did you know he’s been scheming.

One week ‘til V-day.

You let go of the whole Valentine’s Day thing, you were embarrassed about getting so worked up about the situation. You got home late from work, Miguel was already gone to watch Gabriela’s soccer practice and he took the baby with him. You had the whole house to yourself, you sat on the edge of the bed. Sighing as you take off your earrings and heels, you notice something on your nightstand. 

You look to see a fuzzy little lion plushie with a fancy red ribbon tied around his neck. You smiled softly and picked it up, it was soft in your palms and smelt like strawberries. 

It was obvious that it was from Miguel, you set it down on the bed and finished getting out of your work clothes. After a nice shower, you put on some cozy clothes and flop onto the bed. The house was clean and there were no chores to do so you got to relax, you sat in bed watching a movie with your new bed buddy. You hugged it to your chest, breathing in the strawberry scented mane.

Miguel came home with the girls a bit after your movie ended, Gabriela skipped into the house with her baby hairs stuck to her forehead from sweat and the remnants of chocolate ice cream on her cheeks. You usher her into the bathroom for her bath before finding Miguel. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on the tips of your toes to give him a quick kiss.

“What was that for?” He chuckled, his hand on the small of your back, the baby on his hip.

“Just a kiss, I saw that stuffy.” You smiled and shrugged, looking up at him through your lashes. “I love him, but you didn’t need to get me anything…”

“I know that, I just saw it when I was at the store and thought you’d like it sooo…” He said, his hand snaking up the small of your back to roll his fingers through your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Gracias guapo,” You coo, leaning into him for one more quick kiss before pulling away to give Gabriela her bath.

Five days ‘til V-day.

You and Gabriela sat at the kitchen table while Miguel was at work. With baby Esther on your lap, the three of you were hard at work making Miguel his Valentine’s Day present. Since he was always so low key for the holiday, you would do the same. Opting for something cuter and simple that also included the girls.

You already had a hand print of Miguel’s huge, paw-ish hand from an old craft Gabriela made when she was in kindey. You cut out a nice square of paper around the hand print, you carefully painted your own palm and fingers with a soft pink. You pressed your hand over his painted hand print.

Next was Gabriela, you painted her hand with a slightly darker pink color and pressed it over your hand print once it was dry. Then Esther when Gabriela’s handprint dried, you used a baby safe paint that was a darker pink color then Gabriela’s. You pressed the baby’s palm gently over her sisters. So it was papa Miguel’s big black hand print, your smaller light pink hand print, Gabriela’s little hand and then Esther’s teeny tiny hand.

It was perfect, a cute little card from all his girls for Valentines. You let Gabriela paint a couple pink hearts on it and sign it and it was perfect. You take it to write a lovey dovey message on the back and tuck it away in your nightstand once it was completely dry for the fourteenth.

Three days ‘til V-day. 

You looked awful, you tripped in the snow as you hiked your work parking lot to get to your car in front of your boss. When you finally got up out of the slush, you got your hair caught in a branch. Tangling it with leaves and sticks, finally you got home. 

You trudge up the driveway, it has been snowing and raining all day long. You hated the cold winter weather in Nueva York, you just had to wear heels today as you took big steps over the slush. You finally made it inside the warm apartment, taking a deep breath, your shoulders relaxed. The girls are in the living room watching Bluey with Miguel cooking in the kitchen. You kiss the girl's forehead hello and wobble deeper into the warm kitchen.

“Hey mamás, how—woof, what happened to you?” Miguel half laughed, pulling his oven mitts off his huge hands. Today he’s wearing a green apron with ‘Besame soy Irlandés’ printed on the chest. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” You mumbled, brushing the leaves out of your hair. Your whole front is soaked, there was some sort of ice or snow in your bra and your makeup smeared from crying in your car.

“Oye, poor mami.” He cooed, wrapping his big arms around your waist and hugging you to his chest. He held you tight, kissing the side of your face.

He helped you untangle your hair and get out of your soaked clothes. He drew a warm bath with bath salts and bubbles, he washed your hair for you once you were in the water. His big calloused hands rubbing your shoulders as he pecked your cheek. His chest pressed against your back, his hand snaked down into the water in front of you. He peppered the side of your face with gentle kisses as he gently rubbed your core with his pointer and middle fingers. His wedding ring was cool against your inner thighs, his other hand cupped your left breast. Massaging it softly, his thumb grazing over your perked nipples. 

His other hand cupped your sweet pussy, his fingers dipping in between your soft folds and pushing into your wet hole. “My poor girl, I’m sorry your day sucked.” He whispered into the shell of your ear, you bit down onto your bottom lip. Holding back whines as he gently begins to pump his fingers slowly, your hands find the edges of the bathtub to grip. Your head rolls back, your eyes shut as a little gasp escapes your soft lips. He smiled into the dip of your neck, still playing with your tits.

His surprisingly tender lips graze up over your neck for an open mouth kiss, catching your wines and huffs in his mouth. You feel his lips twitch into a little smirk, that smug bastard is always so proud of himself. He pulled away, you whined from the emptiness that filled your soft walls now that he took his fingers out, but you immediately perked up when you heard him take his belt off from the loops. 

Miguel stood up and over to the side of the tub, he slipped his semi hard cock from his boxers. He looked down at you as he pumped his huge hand over his girth, he held you face with his other hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your bottom lip. His way of silently telling you to ‘open’.

You obediently part your pretty lips, he slapped his red tip onto your tongue. He was now fully hard, his cock was perfect. His member is a little darker than his brown skinned body, at least eight to eight and a half inches long. Maybe even ten on a really good day. It was girthy too, with a fat vein on the side of it, it curved up slightly, his groin perfectly shaven besides the happy trail over the base of his length. His balls were heavy, you took him in your mouth. Since he was so big, you always struggled to take him completely. 

You manage to get a good four inches in and start to bob your head, you look up at him through your lashes. It hasn't even been in you long, but you were already cock drunk. He instinctively began to roll his hips into your jaw, the bathroom filled with lewd squelching, moans, and groans. You gag and your eyes roll back.

Just when things started to get good, the baby screeched downstairs in the living room. Miguel sighed and threw his head back dramatically, he pulled away and pulled his slacks back up

over his hips. You frown and pout, he chuckles and bends down to kiss your forehead. “Lo siento, mi corazón…” He muttered, pulling away to get back downstairs to make sure the girls didn’t kill each other. 

You groan a little and sink a little deeper into the warm water.

One day ‘til V-day.

You had actually forgotten all about Valentine’s Day. The girls and work had made you forget all about it. You were sitting at your desk at work, typing and scribbling down notes for later when one of your colleagues told you that there was something at the front desk for you. Curious, you go to check on whatever goodie or package was delivered to you. You never get these sorts of things, you couldn't help but be excited as all the possibilities ran through your head. What the receptionist handed you was better than anything you could have imagined.

The front desk person handed you ramo buchon. One hundred pink and white roses were arranged and wrapped, surrounded by matching pink and white baby’s breath blooms tied together by a ribbon. A little white teddy bear with a ribbon and tag sat in the center of the buchon, the tag signed by your secret admirer. It didn’t take long to figure out who said secret admirer was, since it was Miguel’s handwriting. 

You looked at the gorgeous flowers for the majority of your shift, making sure to send Miguel a little ‘I love you’ text to show your appreciation. Even though he played dumb when you got home, insisting that it wasn’t him and someone else must have sent it. He hugged you tight, muttering under his breath how he’s gonna teach that ‘son of a glitch’ a lesson for daring to make a move on his woman when he finds out who sent it to you. Though you could hear the smile in his voice. 

“When I find them, I’ll teach them a lesson they soon won’t forget for thinking he can just make a move on my woman and get away with it.” Miguel scoffed, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ll kill him dead,” He said when you chuckled.

“You hear me, mariposa? There are some things as a man I simply cannot stand for. And when another man thinks he can have what's mine. And you are mine.” He continued, his forehead pressed against yours as he spoke. “My woman, my baby mama, mine mine mine.”

He repeated that mantra throughout the night, you curled up against him in bed. Him kissing your forehead with his hands rubbing your sides. Going up and down the dips and valleys of your body. You couldn’t help but smile, your face pressed against his neck. “My sweet mujer,” He sighed dreamily. Peppering your pretty face with gentle kisses. 

“Did you like the buchon though?” He asked between smooches. You couldn’t help but giggle, squeezing your dear husband's hand gently and nodded. Your legs tangling with his, the blankets pulled up over to their shoulders. It was nice and cozy in their little blanket cocoon. Miguel needed a weighted blanket in the winters, that coupled with the fuzzy white tiger blanket on top of it made you both nice and warm. 

“Sí, sí. Ellos tienen buen gusto,” You reassure him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. He looked satisfied with that answer. 

Valentine’s Day. 

You woke up snuggled up in the warm bed with Miguel. His alarm went off weirdly early, you blinked, your eyes crusty in the morning, yawning and stretching your arms over your head. Miguel stirred as you sat up, his hands over your lap, you arch your back to stretch. His almond eyes slowly opened and glanced up at you. He smiled into your waist but didn’t move, his morning wood pressing into your plush thigh.

You look down at his hidden face then down into his lap. You smile to yourself and lay back down next to him, your hand snaking down underneath the covers. Already thinking up so many naughty thoughts, tracing down his tummy, following his happy trail, your fingertips teasing the waistband of his sweatpants. He grunted a little as you gently began to stroke his length. You squeezed gently, creating a delicious pressure. 

He finally ‘woke up’, grumbling into the crook of your neck. Rolling his hips back and forth into your hand. You chuckled, looking back over him. You press a little kiss to his nose, “good morning, quapo.” You purr into his ear. This was his favorite way of waking up, your hands on his body. Whether you stroked or sucked, his eyes rolled back and toes curled before waking. 

“Good morning, mariposa, you slept well?” He muttered into your neck, his hand over your chest. He kneaded your pretty tits in his big hands and sighed dreamily.

“I did,” You answer, you roll your palm over his angry red tip. Pearly beads of pre cum dribble out of the head onto your hand. You scoop it up in your fingers, pulling your hand away to taste it. His cum was sweet with a bit of salty, you loved the feeling of his warm seed on your tongue. And he loved seeing you enjoy it, he watched your lap up his pre, a smug look on his handsome face as you swallowed.

Just when you reached to finish the job, he sat up. His erect cock twitching right in front of your face, you were mesmerized. Jesus, you were just a simp. “Gabri could just walk i-” You started, he was already reaching to lock your bedroom door. He grabbed you by your waist and flipped you onto your stomach. He reaches into his nightstand drawer to grab something. You look over your shoulder as he ripped your pajama shorts and panties off your body, making you giggle.

He drizzled massage oil on your bare ass, his calloused palms ran over your buttcheeks. You buried your face into the pillows, giggling like a giddy schoolgirl to yourself. He pressed his nose into your hair, breathing in your shampoo, letting out a shuddering sigh, he sat back up on his knees behind you.

He dipped his ring and middle finger between your plush inner thighs, spreading the warm oil over your already wet pussy lips. You shiver but stay as still as possible for him, he bent over your pretty body. Pressing kisses onto your lower back. Muttering to himself as his fingers slip into your slits folds, your velvet walls clenching his long digits. You whine and cuss under your breath as he makes a scissoring motion with his fingers.

“Relax, mamás, can’t have you clenching my dick off.” He chuckled breathily in your ear, making you groan a little. You did your best not to clench on his fingers so hard, you rolled your shoulders and breathed deeply. Burying your face into the silky pillows, you whine as he begins to rock you by pumping his fingers into your weeping hole. Your breath shudders as his free hand down your back to asscheeks, squeezing gently and smacking to make you squeal.

“Oye,” You hiss, looking back at him over your shoulder, furrowing your eyebrows. He snickered like a kid and went back to pumping fingers. It didn’t take long till your orgasm, it never took Miguel too long to get you to cum. Your nectar pooled in his palm, he smirked proudly, licking

your cum off his hand. You whimper in shame, hiding your red face in the pillows. He chuckled cruelly before slapping his now fully erect member over your thick ass. You squeak as you watch his big hands grab the headboard above you and he begins to hump like a bitch in heat.

He sat on your calves on his knees, his thighs on either side of your hips. The massage oil acts as a lubricant for him to slide his fat cock between your buttcheeks easier. You whine into the pillows, your shoulders hunching and back arching. 

You let out a soft moan as his shaft dragged over your holes over and over again, making you shiver in pleasure. He let out a soft, satisfied sigh as he took you from behind. You just knew that the smug bastard had a satisfied look plastered all over his face as he humped, spanked and slapped your poor, poor, red ass. 

He grabbed and groped, before pulling off of you completely. Miguel took his shaft in his paw-ish hand, dragging his leaking tip to your weeping entrance. 

“Miggy…” You whine, it's been too long since you’ve had him all to yourself. Whether it be your respective jobs, family and taking care of two kids under ten. You miss the feeling of him stretching you out, you miss the burn. You missed him making it hard for you to walk the next day, and him eating you out like a starved man, repeating the phrase ‘I’m sorry,’ over and over again as an apology as he palmed his dick.

You missed the burn and the after care and him making you breakfast for you afterwards. His cock slipped inside, not even three inches at first just to get you ready. His fingers stretched you out best he could, but he was getting impatient, and he needed to feel his pretty girl. His hands drifted off the headboard to either side of your head on the bed. 

Sloooowly, he pushes deeper, you choke back all your noises. You look over at the nightstand on Miguel's side of the bed at the alarm clock, because you apparently married an old man. It was a little after five in the morning, he usually sets his alarm for six, that smug bastard set it early to squeeze a Valentines day quickie before work.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the plap plap plap of his hips hitting your ass and his tip kissing your cervix and the low creaks of your shared mattress. You slap your hand over your mouth, his big hands tighten around the sheets he was clenching. The massage oil and both of your sweat rolled off of eachother, pooling on the bed below you, but you’re too full to care. His length filled you up so good, that you couldn’t think to care about the fact you’re ruining your sheets.

“Yes…” You whine, your shaky hands clinging to the sheets as he pounds into you.

Miguel laid his body over yours as he slowly bucked into you, you almost preferred it when he was pounding into your poor, abused pussy since then he wasn’t torturing you with slow, agonizing strokes. His lips pressed into your ear, his eyes glazed over as he grunted and huffed into the shell of your ear, you loved how vocal he was. How he’d react to your body, how'd he moan and praise you. 

His arm slithered under your neck, pressing you into a headlock as he rutted against your soft walls. His nose buried into your hair, breathing in your cocoa butter shampoo. He tightened his grip on you until your cheek was pressed up against his bicep, his sweat, musk and the remnants of his cologne from yesterday made you slick. 

A knot formed in the pit of your belly, his pre mixed with the oils and your slick, coating the sheets with liquids. You really should have put a towel down…-

“So wet, you like that, don't you?" He growled, his voice deep and husky as he took you from behind. He couldn't resist, he couldn't fight it. He was under your control, he was yours to do with as you pleased. He always portrayed himself as the head of the household, el jefe, but it was a different story once the girls were in bed and the door was locked. He was still very much the dominant, though your pleasure was his priority. He wanted you to be pleased and happy with him above anything else.

“Mhm…feels, fuck, so good…” You mewl, your hips swaying side to side as he slowly rolled his hips into you, your warm walls clenching him. He pulled out until only his tip was in, before pounding back in. Your sweet nectar flowed from your core, you writhed and silently screamed into the pillows. Miguel kept rutting before quickly pulling out, his hot cum spilling down the small of your back.

He let out a satisfied sigh and flopped down on the bed next to you. The giant laid face down next to you, groaning. 

“Jesus, you’re not that old.” You choke out after a minute of basking in each other's sweaty afterglow. “You’re fine,” You grumble, nudging his calf with your foot.

“I’m just warming down, gimme a minute.” He gruffed, tilting his head to stick his tongue out at you and scrunching his nose. “Bleh,”

“Oh my god, you’re just like Gabriela.” You snicker, rolling on your back to stretch, and looking over his body. Miguel was on his stomach, one of his long legs off the bed as he pressed his face into his pillow. You can’t help but look at him with disgust.

“You have a ridiculously nice ass for a man.” You pout.

“Don’t be jelly,” he scoffed playfully.

“Did Gabriela teach you that word?”

“What, ‘jelly’?” He asked and you nod. “Oh please, I’m well educated in the field of slang. I know about what the kids are saying, ‘on fleek’, ‘yeet’, ‘lit’, you name it. You married a very educated man, lucky you~”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that in literal years…”

“Who?”

“Hmm?”

“Asked.” He said proudly, you let out a groan. This was just middle school all over again.

“Okay, okay, I’m done now, mariposa. I promise.” Miguel giggled, grunting a little before rolling onto his back next to you. He snakes a big hand over you and pulls you atop of him. 

“This is disgusting,” 

“I didn’t even-!” “The sheets, and us. I should get in the shower…” You grumbled, he wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you back down to him as you sat up. Your cheek smushed up to his firm pecs. 

“Two more minutes,” He promised, patting your sticky back.

You’ve been getting ready for what felt like hours, your makeup, shoes, hair, jewelry, clothes, accessories. Maybe you were spoiled…sat on the floor of your walk-in closet in nothing but your pretty lingerie, your arms crossed under your chest, you mull over your options for the perfect outfit for your and Miguel’s date tonight.

You check the time on your phone and sigh, deciding to take your chances with that one bodycon cami dress you got months ago. It was cute, I guess. You quickly finish getting ready, your finishing touch being a pretty little necklace with a pendant with the letter M engraved into it. 

The girls were shipped off to your parents house for the night, it was just you two. He cooed and crooned over you, showering you with gifts and peppering your pretty face with kisses. Making your face a little red from his stubble brushing over your cheeks, he booked a nice restaurant nearby for the two of you and came back home for Valentine's Day sex.

After years of marriage and having kids, of course things would often fall into a routine. But after all his gifts and gushing, maybe things won't be so uniform tonight.

The dinner was fine…your alfredo pasta was good so far, and the wine was nice. But Miguel was acting strange ever since you woke him up. He's been red in the face and nervous, which was weird since he was usually so confident and outspoken. 

He was complaining about the wine being expensive, you look up from your pasta to count his forehead creases. 

“It’s like I have to hunt a waiter down for a bottle of wine, wine that's nearly two-hundred dollars. Ridiculous…” He grumbled, you can’t help but roll your eyes as he obnoxiously waved at a waiter. 

“Miggy, please stop. You’re acting like my mother.” You mumble after he spoke to the waiter, you watch the poor twenty something year old disappear into the kitchen to get that bottle.

“Oh please, even I wouldn’t stoop that low.” Miguel scoffed, poking his food with the prongs of his fork like Gabriela did when she didn’t want to eat her dinner and she’d stall for sympathy. You tried making conversation, when that doesn’t really seem to work, something more devious appears in your smile as a sudden idea comes to mind. 

Of course, you’d know how to get him to relax. You prided yourself with that, so you set your little plan to action. You make sure no one in the restaurant was looking in your general direction, you pick up your salad fork, a type fork you may have used twice in your life, and drop it on the fancy dark wood floors of the restaurant. Which, in turn, makes the most loud and annoying ‘ting’ sound, Miguel gives you a look as you freeze. 

“Gosh, clumsy me~” You quickly reassess, making sure no one is looking, you duck to your knees to pick up the fork that somehow got almost completely under the table. It was one of those circular tables with a long red cloth draped on it to the floor. You sneak underneath without anyone suspecting a th-

“What are you doing?” Miguel calmly asks, though you can tell by his tone he’s the human equivalent to a donkey on the edge.

“I’m grabbing my fork,” You answer, though you have passed the fork, crawling on your hands and knees, you make a beeline to your manspreading husband. You rest your chin on the edge of the chair, pressing your soft lips for a fat kiss on his bulge. He jolts when you do, his hands flying to cover his crotch.

“A-amor!” Miguel yelped, his knees hitting the table. Making his wine glass fall, he quickly moved to pick it back up. Giving you just enough time to sloppily unbuckle his belt and pull his slacks down just enough to pull his semi-hard cock out, the table cloth covering his lap up. You smile to yourself before licking your palms to stroke him with both your hands. 

Once he was completely hard in your soft hands, you took his tip in your mouth. Kitten licking it as you stroked with one hand and kneaded his balls with the other. He was trying (and failing) to mask his whimpers and squeaks by sipping his wine. 

“So pretty~” You cooed, slapping his fat cock over your tongue. His pre dripped down his aching shaft from his slit, which you of course greedily lick up. Every noise Miguel made went straight to your sopping pussy, which you were grinding up and down his dress shoe. He grunted, how rude, you’re polishing his cock and shoes, and he dares to complain?

You take a solid four inches into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. You wish you could look at his pretty face as he groans and grunts, you nod your head, attempting to fit more into your mouth. 

Relaxing your throat, you take a deep breath in through your nose and breath back out slowly before taking him all the way to his base. Your nose nestles into his trimmed pubic hair while your hands snake forward to dip back into his boxers to give his balls a squeeze. Your drool and his pre dripped from your soft lips and down his balls.

Miguel pressed his palm into his lips, his eyes squeezed shut. His free hand on the crown of your head, his fingers tangled with your hair as he guided you. His thighs shuddered, doing everything in his power to not moan loudly in a crowded restaurant on Valentines day. You try to bob your head but he keeps you down on his cock.

He huffed and his hips buckled to push deeper into you, you gag and tears roll down your cheeks. It only took a few more seconds as hot, white ropes shot down your throat and warmed your belly. You swallow quickly, your moans vibrate against him as you ride him through his orgasm. 

Only when you hear that whimper do you finally slide off of him. Your lips leave the tip with a lewd pop. You give his cock a sweet little kiss, you dry your tears and climb back into your seat, placing your fork back on the table where it belongs with a satisfied smile. He wasn’t glaring anymore, he looks much more relaxed now…

Just from the look alone tells you that you’re in for it when you get home. 

Before Miguel could say a thing, the waiter zips back over to the table to come check up on your dinner. He was about to leave when he paused.

“You’ve got some alfredo sauce on your lips, ma’am.” The waiter said, pointing to his own lips. You squeak out a quick ‘oh!’ and dab your lips with your napkin. Wiping off the ‘alfredo sauce’ as the waiter ran off to another table.

“Don’t,” You sighed, Miguel was smirking, resting his head on his palm. He was relaxed now, and was giggly from the alfredo sauce comment.

“I didn’t even say anything~ though you do look cute with alfredo sauce on your lip.” Miguel said sweetly, swirling his wine glass to watch the red liquid slosh in the cup before raising it to his lip to take a sip. His crimson eyes trained on you. Giving you a look that made your previously soaked panties soaking wet and sticking to your cunt.

“Though you are very much still in trouble.”

Your heel made you slip on the icy doorstep, Miguel’s hand on your waist hoisted you upright before you could fall into the snow. “Careful~” He tutted smugly, unlocking the door for you and you rushed inside the warm home. 

Both you and Miguel had been drinking, you from the embarrassing alfredo sauce incident and Miguel because he was trying to loosen up. You’re both tipsy and stumbling into the kitchen, you go to the sink to pour yourself a big glass of water to sober up. Just as you gulp down the last sip, Miguel comes up behind you, his big, calloused hands resting on your shoulders, squeezing gently.

His soft lips find your jaw, he massages your shoulders. The wine made him tipsy and went straight to his dick. Your back pressed against his chest and stomach, your hands on the cool surface of the kitchen counter. Signing softly and nearly letting a moan slip as his hands travel down from your shoulders to rub your clothed breast.

You grip the counter, your shoulders going slack and your back involuntary arching. His thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples, you feel his cock hardening from underneath his slacks as he slowly grinds on you. His lips still on your jaw, the tip of his tongue slipping from his lips to press against your soft skin.

Humping your plump ass and squeezing your plush tits was heaven to Miguel, the only thing missing was his cock buried deep into your gushing cunt. 

Tipsy, he decided that’s what he needed, he wrapped a beefy arm around your waist and hoisted you up over his shoulder. 

“Miguel!” You squealed, kicking your feet as you slowly began to sober up. He didn’t say anything, just grunting and his hand falling from the small of your back to your butt, pinching the fat to tell you to quiet down. He carried you with ease up the stairs, down the hallway to your shared bedroom. 

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and flopped you down on your back onto the blankets and pillows. You landed back with a squeak of the mattress, your legs dangling off the edge as he straddled your his. His lips crashed into yours, his cheeks painted in a pink hue, his big hands ran up and down your sides

You parted your lips, catching your whines and huffs in his mouth as he pressed your beefy body into you. Trapping you to the bed with his hands, he leaned over you, his kisses searing as he held your wrists up over your head to keep you underneath him. 

When he got tipsy, he wouldn’t be bothered by foreplay. He needed to get right to the good part, his kisses got hungrier and needier with every second that passed. His hands rubbed down your sides, sliding your dress off your body. His eyes wandered and quickly widening when he saw your lack of anything under your dress.

You went rogue on him, you ditched your lingerie in the restaurant bathroom, since your panties were soaked and uncomfortable, and because you too wanted to get to the main event as soon as possible~ He stripped and sat down on the edge of the bed with you on his lap in his favorite position, full nelson. Your legs bent up to fold you in half, your knees on either side of your head with his arms bending you back with his fingers locked with each other behind your neck. It was sort of uncomfortable, but the second he moved his hips, you forgot all about it.

He thrusted sloppily into you, you threw you back on his shoulder almost immediately as his tip practically kissed your womb the first thrust. He didn't stretch you out prior, the burn was enough to make you scream. His hips jutted up and down, your ass slapping down against his pelvis. Filling your bedroom with the sweat slaps of skin hitting skin and your lewd moans. 

Your eyes flick up and cross, he’s been at it for hours it feels like when he actually just started.

“Please, Miggy,” You mewled in his ear. He ignored you, peering over your shoulder to watch your pretty titties bounce from how he was rocking you. Miguel looked angry, like he usually did during sex. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” he commanded in a harsh tone. 

Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more, slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down the best you could when you squished and bent into the position. You felt the knot in the pit of your tummy tightening as he speared into you, a ring of cream wrapped around the base of his angry, twitching cock.

All night long, the man fucked you like a fleshlight. Making you cry tears of pleasure and scream his name for all your neighbors to hear. Your knot snapped for what felt like the umpteenth time, your orgasm ripped through you in waves. 

That didn’t stop him though, he’s fucking you like he’s trying to mold your gummy walls to fit his, and only his cock. 

Painting your womb white with ribbons of hot cum for the sixth time, he finally let’s go. His hands slightly raised as if admitting defeat as his chest rose and fell. Sweat rolling down his body as you crawl onto the bed to try to cool down. He falls down on his stomach next to you on his side of the bed. 

You poor thing have been put through the wringer, you’ve came too many times to count, been came in too many times to count, cried, screamed and moaned. Your throat and poor, slutty, pussy been played with and fucked ruthlessly. Your eyes are half lidded when Miguel rolled onto his side to face you.

“Amor…?” Miguel whispered, his voice hoarse.

“Hmm?”

“I need to admit something…I sent you the ramo buchon, even though I told you that your secret admirer sent it to you.” He admitted sheepishly, like he was an embarrassed kid owning up to taking a cookie. It made you chuckle sleepily.

“Yeah…I had a hunch,” You smiled, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He seems genuinely surprised you knew it was him.

“How…-you know what, never mind, mariposa. Happy Valentine's Day to the loveliest girl in the whole multiverse.” He smiled sweetly, bringing your hand to his lips and kissed it softly. 

“Thank you, mi Valentín.” 

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hallowed

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, face sitting, smut. Word count: ~1.3k

Summary: Her Early Medieval Literature essay is due, and Michael has his own cruel way of ensuring she stays focused.

Author's note: Can be read as part two of this fic, but also works as a standalone. Day six of the Smuffmas prompts - "future and face sitting". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She lounges on Michael’s bed, clad in only knickers and one of his t-shirts, a copy of the Canterbury Tales grasped lightly between her fingers. Her eyes move over the words of Chaucer, but take none of them in, how could they? His long fingers draw lazy circles on her ankle, her legs stretched out up to the pillows where he reclines, the duvet wrapped around his bare midriff while he reads from a textbook called the Book of Proof.

Life feels simpler since Michael has entered it, despite the turbulent beginnings. She has given up her friends, under his advice, and there is now far less pressure to conform. Her only focuses are her studies and pleasing him, the latter of the two she takes great pleasure in.

It is always on his terms; when they see each other, what they do, how they do it, and despite his obvious initial inexperience he is a fast learner. His ability to make her fall apart, to make her relinquish all control is something he does expertly. The slight fear she feels towards him only adds to the excitement; he could destroy her if he wanted to, but if she plays nicely then he won’t, and she is more than happy to play nicely when the rewards for doing so are as satisfying as they are.

She sighs, his fingers upon her flesh making her core throb with want, even from the simple gesture of absentmindedly touching her leg. She lets her book slip from her fingers, raising up on her elbow to look at him.

“Michael…” she whines.

He looks at her impassively, adjusting his glasses. “The first of your three essays is due soon, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” she responds with a roll of her eyes, flopping back down and stretching her arms above her head. “Early Medieval Literature.”

His hand moves from her ankle, fingertips ghosting over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of her underwear. “And what have you written?”

She shivers beneath his touch, squirming slightly. “Am I really here to study?”

“I’ve no interest in sleeping with a failing literature student,” he pulls his hand away and she immediately misses his warmth. “So tell me.”

She groans in frustration. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably something about irony in the Merchant’s Tale.”

His textbook thuds closed and she hears the heavy sound of him dropping it onto the bedside table. When she chances to glance up at him she sees he is sitting straighter in the bed, his gaze hardened as he looks at her. “Probably?! You mean you haven’t started it? Have you even thought about your thesis statement, your in-depth analysis or how you’re going to conclude your ideas, if you’ve even had any?”

“Oh, come on,” she says softly, sitting up and reaching for him. “There’s still time. Can’t we just–”

“No,” he cuts her off. “I’ve been spoiling you, and it’s made you stupid.”

“I’m not stupid!” She protests. “If I remember correctly, it was you who called my degree a ‘glorified book club’.”

“You still need to try,” he tells her, frowning.

“You don’t try,” she argues with a shrug,” and marks in your first year don’t count towards the final degree.”

“I don’t have to try, but I still get firsts in everything. Marks this year may not count towards the final degree you get, but they count towards you keeping your scholarship. Think about your future instead of being a fucking brat for once in your life.”

His words are a sharp sting to her already fragile ego, and she lowers her gaze, fighting the sudden urge to cry.

“I’m not touching you again until your essay’s handed in and I’ve seen what your mark is.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide with disbelief as she looks at him, searching his features for any indication that he’s being unserious. She finds none; he really means it.

“And you’re not to touch yourself. I’ll know.”

The next two weeks are torturous for her. On the occasions that Michael does invite her to his room, there is no more casual half dressed lounging on his bed. Instead, he has a study space set up for her at his desk, and won’t allow her to speak or leave until she has at least a thousand words written. 

They meet up in the library during free periods so that he can read through what she’s written, and her skin burns hot with humiliation each time he screws up a page and throws it into the waste paper bin, calling her arguments “lazy” and “uninspired”.

It lights a fire of determination beneath her, but bubbling under the surface is also a heightened state of arousal, driven by the lack of intimacy, and the fact that she finds that she likes it when he is so authoritative over her.

By the time she has finished, she has produced an essay that both her and Michael are satisfied with; it discusses the use of irony in Chaucer’s poem, the Merchant's Tale. She has used a number of excerpts and lines from the poem for analysis, revealing the instances of irony in each, and from this has determined that the irony Chaucer used in the Merchant's Tale is controlled.

Her eyes light up when Professor Ware hands it back, and she sees the 85% that’s circled at the top of it.

A first.

She feels giddy with excitement as she knocks on Michael’s door that evening, brandishing the now dog-eared pages at him as he opens the door.

“A first, I got a first!” She squeals, watching as he takes the essay from her, his eyes moving slowly over the top page.

“Hmmm,” he settles it down on the desk, removing his glasses and placing them on top. “Take off your jeans and underwear.”

“Wha–what?” She stammers, her grin fading.

“You want your reward, don’t you?” He asks, moving to lay back on the bed.

She swallows thickly, excitement fluttering in her lower belly, as she quickly complies, ridding herself of the clothing that covers her lower half.

“Come here,” he commands softly.

She joins him on the bed, a gasp leaving her as he manhandles her until her knees are positioned either side of his head.

“My clever girl,” he whispers. His words could be mistaken for softness, were they not directly juxtaposed by the rapid darkening of his blue eyes, and the way his thumbs drag across the indentations between her thighs and pelvis. “I knew you could do it, you just needed a little…push.”

He drags his tongue from her opening all the way to her pearl, and her jaw goes slack, the wet sensation making her clench as she falls forward, hands clawing at the wall in front of her.

His grip on her thighs tightens and he tugs her flush against his face, the sloppy sounds of him devouring her are lewd combined with the wanton cries of pleasure that tumble from her lips.

She feels her mind go blank as he inserts his tongue inside of her, keeping it rigid as she begins to grind herself in a circular motion, keeping his nose pressed against where she needs it most, desperately chasing the release she’s needed the last couple of weeks.

His hum of appreciation reverberates through her core, and as he withdraws from her, plush lips wrapping around her sensitive bundle of nerves she feels herself fall apart as the growing ache intensifies, completely at his mercy as he laps at her, while white hot waves of pleasure wash over her.

She raises up when it becomes too much, jerking at how oversensitive she feels and gazes down at him through heavy lidded eyes, breathless.

He looks like an utterly different person without his glasses, almost kind, though she knows better. His chin is shiny with her slick as he smirks up at her.

“You’ve worked so hard,” he says quietly, though the edge of malevolence to his voice is unmistakable. “But don’t worry, you can give that pretty little mind of yours a rest while I fuck you stupid again.”

She is powerless to resist as he tugs her back to his face once more, beginning the exquisite torture all over again.

Part one || Series masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 23

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I sprained my ankle.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The king shifts you off of him, lifting you with him as he stands. The tension is rigid in his grip. He steadies your bodies and helps you over the edge of the tub. Another pounding sounds at the door and his name arises again. 

King Geralt follows, splashing water on the floor in his expediency. He takes a bath sheet from the wardrobe and wraps it around you, not saying a word. Your heart races as you let him move you. You’re paralysed with the embarrassment of that moment. You’re about to be caught out in a perilous position. 

He urges you towards the bed and points you onto it. You hug the sheet around you and sit near the pillows. He pulls shut the canopy around you, blocking out the room behind the drapings. You sink down, horrified. He’s hiding you. As thankful as you are for his discretion it only reminds you of your own guilt. 

He coughs and his feet slap around. You hear another rustle of linen and your ears prick as he goes to the door. He inches it open with a creak, “Vesemir,” he greets flatly. 

“Ah, the king lives,” the gritty voice is more familiar without the barrier of the wood, “ah, and look at him, in his respite, enjoying the hot waters as his wife runs amok in my castle.” 

“Wife?” Geralt repeats grimly, “what is your meaning?” 

“Do you mean to keep my out in the corridors of my own home?” The man demands and slaps the door. “Boy--” 

“Eh,” the king grunts, “mind yourself.” 

“Don’t play proper with me,” the man scoffs and the door groans, letting him in. You can see shadows through the small slot between the curtains. You shy away, hoping whoever it is won’t look back. 

“Vesemir,” the king repeats, confirming the identity, “what is my wife about?” 

“Won’t you come see?” The man challenges, “her and her soldiers are raiding my cellar. I allowed one bottle and now I will be drunk dry. I serve the kingdom but I did not swear myself to spoiled summer welps.” 

“Mm,” the king growls as he moves beyond your sight, not that you can see very much through the narrow space. “I’ll tend to her--” 

“Certainly, you will or I will march her out with my ax.” 

“You needn’t go so far,” the king girds with a sigh as you hear the stiffness of leather. 

“When you marched south, I didn’t think it would soften you,” Vesemir rebukes, “you hide in a tower, soaking in steam.” 

“It has been a long road. We won’t be long here and I thought to wash,” King Geralt sneers defensively. “Even bears like you need a good scrubbing. You more than any, I think.” 

Silence. Tense and roiling. You crawl forward to get a better view of the room. You put your eye to the slat between the curtains and nearly squeak as the older man booms with laughter and claps the younger’s bare shoulder. 

“Aye, I probably do smell like the caves,” he rumbles. “And you always did smell like a horse, Geralt.” 

The king mutters again as he pulls a tunic over his head, the wet tails of his hair leaving speckles of water across the wool. You blink as the other man shifts and you see his profile clear. You know the man. It is the cook. Rather, not a cook at all but Vesemir, the lord of the castle. You're caught in surprise, staring through at him. 

As if drawn by your gaze, he glances over and you quickly retreat from the curtain, hoping you were not spotted. His tongue makes a noise against the roof of his mouth and he huffs. His sole scuffs as the king’s laces whip against his boots. 

“Geralt,” Vesemir intones with disappointment. 

Silence and another heavy breath. You don’t know from which man. The chair scrapes as the king stands. 

“It isn’t to mind,” King Geralt insists, “I will fetch my queen and put her back in her chamber.” 

Vesemir growls, “I do wonder why she might act so, with such a loving husband.” 

“Enough. It isn’t your concern.” 

“Not as yet, but the king’s business is everyone’s concern. Especially of those who marched on his behalf for a summer’s kingdom and a summer’s queen.” 

“You did not march,” the king rebuffs. 

“Eh, do not,” Vesemir warns, “I do not lecture, I warn you. You are a king now, mm, not a boy playing at tourney knight.” 

“I am aware,” King Geralt snips, “tell me what you are aware of, hiding away in your vultures’ pit. These winter lords wanted home to their families, so I made it so. I agreed to marry that... traitor’s daughter and what have I got for it but a headache? You need not make my skull pound any harder, Vesemir.” 

“Oh yes, your father was no fan of politics either. Nor did he play them well. Perhaps you might take another lesson after him,” Vesemir rebukes, “that turncloak’s daughter will not be any more amenable should she learn of her husband’s follies.” 

“She cannot see past her own nose,” Geralt straps his sword over his back. 

“You are hard to miss,” Vesemir insists. 

“Let us go to the cellar, I tire of your reproach.” 

“Ever obstinate, my liege,” the lords tuts and shakes his head, turning for the door. 

You angle to watch them go, the door shutting heavily in their stead. You let out a breath and hug your legs to your chest. You look up at the canopy and the looming bed frame. And so it begins, you sit, trapped by the king’s deceit. 

⚔️

After some time, you dare to step beyond the canopy. You dress and sit at the table; the chamber growing still as the water cools and stagnates. The fire crackles to embers but you’re too fraught to think to feed it. You stare at the door. The longer you wait, the more your doubt threatens to consume you. 

There is no dial or no sunlight to gauge how long but it is longer than you anticipate. You grow restless and rise, pacing as you twist your palms against each other. Is it the queen the keeps the king? Or something more dire? 

When at last you hear movement on the stairs, you can’t help but hide against the wall. The footsteps hammer up and the door bursts open from the other side. At first, you fear the worst. Perhaps your mind has made it all a bit too extravagant but in a manner, you long for it to end, one way or the other. 

King Geralt storms in like a gust of wind and snow. The wood snaps against stone as he blusters across the floor and kicks a chair. It cracks against the table and the armrest splinters. You curl your fingers into your apron and sway.  

The king grabs the edge of the table and overturns it, sending the books and plates atop it to the floor. He circles like a rabid wolf, stomping and seething, growling as his anger simmers up his throat. He stops as if struck and goes to the bed, tearing back the canopy. His chest puffs as his brow furrows. 

“Treasure...” he breathes. 

You shudder, “your highness.” 

He turns and sees you, his shoulders easing. He closes his eyes and his jaw locks. He pushes his hands over his hair as he calms himself. He opens his eyes against and drops his arms. 

“Did I frighten you? I didn’t mean to,” he slowly comes closer, “you know I could never harm you.” 

“Yes, your highness, I only meant to be out of the way,” you utter. “Something is amiss?” 

“Mmm,” he hums through his nose, “that is a way to say it.” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing your knuckles, “my wife has not been a very gracious guest. Lord Vesemir’s hospitality quickly wanes. The storm won’t be much longer before we can depart...” he doesn’t look happy for the fact, “and we would be best to do so quickly.” 

“Is that not good? Aren’t you happy to go home?” You ask. 

His expression softens, “little maid, of course. I cannot wait to show you it all but... I hoped we might have some more time before that. The road is not easy.” He exhales and raises your hands, kissing each, “I must let you go for now. I have acted hastily and there are still matters to attend to. The war I started still roils in the air.” He shakes his head, “I have foes to harry as yet.” 

You blink, “what do you mean?” 

“Never you worry,” he lowers your hands, “I’ve only one mission for you, little maid.” 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“You will return to the queen’s service, yes? You will tend to her as you always have but you will watch and you will listen. Every lord, every lady, ever single vermin that keeps her company, I want to know of,” he sneers.  

“Your highness? Why--” 

“Do not ask why. I require it, that is all you need to know. For our safety, you must do this,” he clings to you, “treasure, I know you are a loyal creature, it is what first drew me to you, but that woman you serve wouldn’t know loyalty if it crept up her skirts.” He lets you go hesitantly, “she is still a traitor’s daughter.” 

Your lip trembles and you quickly still it. He is asking you to play spy. On Jazlene. On your queen. His very own wife. But why? She is foolish, she is a drunkard, but she is harmless. 

“You swore yourself to your duty, didn’t you?” He arches a brow. “The king comes above all. Regardless of house, of master, you serve me.” 

“I will serve as I swore,” you grit out, injured by his tone. 

That same day he was gentle and now he is steely and demanding. He toys with you. He only means to use you in whatever way the moment calls for. It is not grand revelation but no less painful. 

“Do not be sombre, treasure, in due time,” he rasps. He backs away and puts his back to you, “go, before I let my heart get the best of me. Should you stay longer, I might never let you leave.” 

“Your highness,” you bow and walk to the door. 

“The knight awaits you. He will take you to the queen.” 

“Thank you,” you stand in the doorway. 

“Wait,” he calls to you and follows after. You turn to find him with cloak in hand, “you will need this.” 

You look down at the cloak. You take it without protest. Even if it is tainted, he isn’t wrong. You will face the cold soon enough and you wouldn’t fare long in your wool and linen. You thank him and he sees you through the open door, closing it as you descend. 

As you come to the bottom, you find a shadow awaiting you. It isn’t Bryce. The figure is broader and his white hair shines in the torch light. You step off the bottom step and bend your neck. 

“My lord,” you greet the castle lord. 

“Maid,” he returns dully, “so it is the little dove that coos as the king.” 

You keep your head down, turning it away in shame as you purse your lips. It is your first lesson in judgment but not an easy one. 

“I didn’t expect you so much as you didn’t expect me. Sir Bryce has allowed me your time but he warned me he would be back,” he explains. “I only wanted the measure of the king’s fancy. I’ve known him a very long time so it is curious to me that he has put himself in such a... circumstance.” 

“My lord,” you whisper, throat crackling. 

“Hmmm,” he gives a thoughtful hum. You languish in his silence as he looms in the flicker of lanterns. He pushes away from the wall and steps closer. “You are not offended, but guilty. There is no presumption in you, dove. You do not take insult from what I say, you only take on the onus of the king’s desire.”  

He leans in and brings his hand under your chin, forcing your head up. He looks at you, examining you like some riddle. His wrinkles deepen as the shadows make caverns of his eye sockets. 

“I see it clear,” he remarks as he pulls his hand away. “I remember the dove who treated cook no lesser than lord,” he stands straight and crosses his arms, “I see no difference between her and you. Yes, I was not mistaken before, but I believe our king is. He does not know you though he believes he does.” 

“My lord, I serve the king.” 

“You serve your queen,” he counters, “you are of the summer, just like her. So how do you choose?” 

You stare at him and your eyes sting. Can you choose? 

“It doesn’t matter which one, either would clip your wings,” he lets out a gray breath. “Dove, I will keep your peace. I hold no malice for you, no, I pity you.” He puts his hand to his chest, “while you are under my roof, you will have whatever you need. I will have that soldier find you a proper chamber. For yourself, and should you want, you will have the pick of my pantry. What little delights you might have, I would enjoy them while you can.” 

“Thank you, my Lord, but that is very much for a maid.” 

He touches your cap, his fingers lingering on the linen, “summer dove... I told you these winds were too cold for you.” 

“I must go to the queen,” you plead. 

“Yes, go,” he backs away, “I will send your soldier to you.” His lips go crooked as his eyes narrow thoughtfully, “I’ve known Sir Bryce a very long time. That man alone is the best army you could have at your back.” 

“He is kind, sir,” you say. 

“Is he now?” Lord Vesemir scoffs, “well, maybe one day, I might remember him as such. Do not let me keep you from your duty.” 

He stays by the wall and you step around him. You don’t look back as you march forward, the cryptic conversation follows you through the corridors. There was something unsaid in his voice, as if he knew something you don’t. One might take it as him making a joke of you, but you don’t see that man laughing over such grave matters. 

[grapejuicebrat]

“brutal”

PAIRING: neighbour! badboy!harry x innocent!reader

SUMMARY: you are tired of your image of an angel. you want to be a disappointment and your incredibly hot neighbour is happy to help you get spoiled.

SYNOPSIS: you’re a bad idea but i like bad ideas

NOTES: i plan it as a bunch of blurbs. like different times when harry helped reader to get spoiled. if you’ll like this concept i’ll think about writing a whole story or i’ll continue writing blurbs about neighbour! harry. it’s up to you. anyway enjoy!

WORD COUNT: 716

my masterlist

“No, angel, i’m just telling you that you’re too sweet for this shit”

“Stop calling me that! I’ll pay you for this, how much do you want?” you start taking money out of your bag, counting the bills. “Or are you like a guy from books? You want a kiss or a good fuck?”

“Actually that’s a good idea, I didn’t think about that” he laughs. “I don’t want to be a boy who will spoil a good girl, you know?”

“I want you to be that boy. I don’t know who can i ask for this except you. Please, help me. I’ll do anything”

“Anything?”

“Anything”

“Alright, come in”

How did you end up in this situation? That’s easy to explain. Harry is your incredibly hot neighbour who you think is the perfect bad boy. He is a disappointment and you want to be a disappointment too.

For your whole life you were known as a nerd, as a good girl who never smokes, never drinks alcohol and never goes out with guys. I mean isn’t it boring? Constantly hearing that you will never do anything wrong. Obviously you wanted to prove the opposite, but didn’t know where to start. That’s when you met Harry.

Harry had just moved into the apartment opposite and you noticed him immediately. His appearance literally screamed that he was a bad guy. Then you found out that he makes money from fights without rules. And sells weed. And makes parties every weekend. Definitely a good guy.

“So what do we have? You want to be bad, to prove that you’re not a good girl, right?” Harry sits down in a chair and looks straight into your eyes. you are standing at the door, not knowing what to do. your heart is beating too hard, your hands are shaking with excitement. “Don’t be shy, come sit here”

“Where? In your lap?” Actually you can’t say you are against this idea. Quite opposite. What can you say? He is straight from the books. Like Hardin Scott from After. Those arms, tattoos, green eyes. God, if you weren’t a virgin you wouldn’t be so shy. Maybe, just maybe you could offer him yourself but you aren’t in a book. You can’t do this because for him it will be just a one night stand and for you it will be something more than a sex.

“Cute. Only if you want though” harry grins. It makes him laugh how sht you stand in place, not knowing what’s going on with you. “Sit on a couch. Gotta make a deal with you”

you nodded your head and sat down on the couch, away from Harry. Lowering your head down, you begin to twitch your fingers, trying to stop the trembling in your hands.

“What do you want in return?”

“A promise” he simply says

“What promise?” you ask in surprise, not knowing where he is leading.

“if you are bad for others, I want you to remain good for me.”

“what do you mean?” You tilt your head down in confusion, eyes widening.

“you’ll understand later”

Harry grins. Oh, he’ll have so much fun with you.

part 2

Don’t forget to reblog and share your thoughts! x

if you want to be tagged in the next blurb, please write in the comments. also try to guess what’ll be next part about:))

[wwooyology]

The Murder House | Pt. Two

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕/𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 | 𝒑𝒕. 𝒐𝒏𝒆 | 𝒑𝒕. 𝒕𝒘𝒐 | 𝒑𝒕. 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 | 𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆

「synopsis」 : with everyone's lives on the line, will luck be on your side? except it seems like whoever trapped you here doesn't plan on letting any of you leave that easy... suspicion is rising, and trust is starting to falter, but can you save everyone and bust whoever put you and your friends through this hell?

「word count」 : 11.3k

「genre」 : horror/thriller, gore, angst, psychological thriller, mystery

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, spiders/bugs, water, blood, mentions of betrayal, arguments, mentions of claustrophobia & arachnophobia/entomophobia, mentions of spider venom, life or death situations, more mind games, mental health disorders (anxiety, panic attacks, breakdowns, etc...), (some tags will be hidden as to not spoil the story!)

Jay groaned as he opened his eyes, his hand instantly going to his head, trying to soothe the dull pounding behind his eyes. Riki, who had just been shaking the older male, looked down at him before moving back, letting him sit up. As the throbbing died down, Jay’s brain swirled with questions once more, how many times had they been drugged at this point? Where had they been taken now? And most importantly, where was everyone else?

“Where are we?” Jay asked, voice hoarse from the lack of any fluid, his eyes scanning the room. “And where’s y/n?” Riki watched him with an unreadable expression but rolled his eyes when he wasn’t looking.

The walls looked as if they were made out of concrete, water stains dripping down from the ceiling. The ground was solid and cold under Jay’s palms, sending a shiver up his spine. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought this was some kind of dungeon. 

“I’m not sure.” Riki’s voice was low as he glanced over his shoulder, “looks like some kind of basement.” 

Jay scrunched his eyebrows at the boy’s calm tone. He knew that Riki had always been exceptional at hiding his emotions. This, however, he would think would warrant at least a tremor in his voice, but there was nothing.

The last thing Jay wanted was to throw any more accusations at anyone, let alone his little brother, so he just brushed it off. Standing on his feet, he dusted his jeans off before he heard what sounded like chains rattling on the other side of the room. Both Riki and Jay’s heads snapped over in that direction, and their eyes grew wide.

There, in a room separated by a glass window, sat Heeseung, hands cuffed to the arms of a chair. Pure fear and panic painted his face, which was only mirrored onto Sunghoon’s as Jay looked over at the taller male. 

Sunghoon stood in front of the window, fear etched into his features as he looked at Heeseung. His heart was beating at what seemed to be a million miles an hour. His eyes never strayed from the older male as Jay and Riki walked up to join him.

Heeseung’s panicked eyes move over to Jay when he comes into view, arms straining against their restraints, “Jay, what’s the fuck is going on?” His voice was higher in pitch as he yanked on the cuffs once more, but just like his last attempts, they proved to be fruitless.

Jay’s words caught in his throat as he started to realize what was going on. This was another game. 

Sunghoon saw movement in the corner of his eye, causing him to look up. He felt his blood run cold. Above Heeseung was a crate of spiders, at least a couple dozen crawling all over each other. Seeing the creatures made his skin crawl, and his mouth went dry as he tried to speak.

“I don’t wanna panic anyone, but…” He spoke quietly, pointing to the tub of spiders, which caused all eyes to follow. Jay’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull while Riki licked his lips. However, Heeseung…

“Guys, get me the fuck outta here! I mean it!” Heeseung started to panic, roughly pulling on his restraints. His heart beating so loudly it was deafening, his body starting to shake as sweat coated his skin. Bile crept up his throat the longer he kept looking at the creatures that hung over his head. Spiders had always, always freaked Heeseung out, going as far as jumping on the couch, nearly falling right on Sunghoon when he found a tiny one on his apartment floor, begging you to kill it.

“Ahhh, everyone is already awake,” A distorted voice cuts through the speakers in the room, causing all four of the boys to jump; Heeseung stopped moving, his hands still trembling. “Hello, gentlemen, and welcome to game number two! Let’s get straight into it, ya? Your last rooms may have been easy peasy lemon squeezy, but that doesn’t quite travel over.” Sunghoon’s eyes flicker all over the room, trying to find the source of the voice, “now you better put on your running shoes because you’ll have to move quickly if you wanna get your friend outta there, otherwise, well, he’ll experience a pain like no other.” Just then a big screen powers on, displaying a timer, the numbers frozen. “Good luck! Oh, and don’t let the bugs bite!” The voice then cut out, and a spotlight clicked on, showing a lockbox on a table that sat right under the screen.

Then the timer started. Jay’s heart dropped, his feet glued to the spot on the ground, his ears ringing loudly. Sunghoon’s horrified face shifts back to Heeseung, who is staring at the ground by his feet. Riki watches Sunghoon from the corner of his eye, studying his expression, his hands stuffed deep in his jacket pockets.

Sunghoon swallowed thickly before looking between Riki and Jay, “how can we be sure that the spiders will actually drop?” His voice shook, hands trembling at his sides, “or if they’re even venomous?” 

Jay couldn’t help but glare at the younger male, “Are you dense or something, dude? They have literally drugged us. Twice! What makes you think they won’t drop those spiders on him, huh?” The tone in Jay’s voice caused Sunghoon to recoil, flinching slightly.

“I’m just saying there’s a possibi-” “Those look like Sydney funnel-web spiders, highly venomous.” Riki cut Sunghoon off, causing both of them to look over at him, “if that many were to bite him at once, he’d die in five minutes tops.” he explained, voice trembling slightly as he looked over, meeting Sunghoon’s eyes, gleam in his pupils. “We’d need an ass ton of anti-venom, and that’s if there is any.”

At the new information, Heeseung felt his blood run cold. His arms violently tugged at his restaurants, and tears started to brim in his eyes. His attention then turned to Sunghoon, who was still looking at Riki.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” Heeseung seethed, sending a deadly glare toward the dark-haired male, “Lock us in some fucking sick and twisted games just to kill us off, just like you did the hacker. Is this what you get off to?”

Sunghoon’s eyes blew wide at Heeseung’s accusations, hurt contorting his face into a glare of his own. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What fucking hacker?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb; we found your bracelet on the dead guy's body.” Heeseung scoffed, tugging on the restraints once more, “thought you could hide it, huh? Well, news flash, if you’re gonna kill someone, try not to lose any of your belongings on the body!”

“My bracelet? My bracelet is on my…” Sunghoon’s words trailed on as he held his hand up, shocked eyes right on the spot where his bracelet would normally be sitting.

“Oh, cat got your tongue? Yeah, we caught your ass red fucking handed.” Heeseung’s words dripped venom, eyes burning with rage.

Sunghoon glared at the older male, his body starting to shake due to anger and embarrassment. Riki watched the two go at each other, standing just a few feet away while Jay tried to concentrate on finding the pieces of clues they needed.

“Yeah and how do we know that you didn’t plant the bracelet on the body, huh?” Sunghoon turned the accusation around on Heeseung, “How do we know you're not the one behind all of this?” 

Heeseung laughed in disbelief, “Yeah because I would totally cuff myself to a chair under a box of the most venomous spiders IN THE FUCKING WORLD!” He shouted, yanking the cuffs and ignoring the pain that shot up his arm.

“Who knows, maybe this is just another tactic to throw us off your trail!” Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed, and that’s when Jay finally had enough, stepping over to the three.

“Stop. Both of you, this is fucking ridiculous.” Jay interjected a glare of his own, adoring his face, “We don’t have all the time in the world to sit here and argue about who’s behind all of this. You two bickering like a damn pair of street cats is only wasting time.” He shot a glare at Heeseung, too, who just shook his head, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “And you, why the fuck are you just standing there? This isn’t some telnova you can just sit back and watch, we need to find these clues.”

Sunghoon scoffs, nodding his head before looking over at Jay, pointing a finger at his chest, “And what about you?”

Caught off guard, Jay raises an eyebrow, “what about me?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you seem pretty damn calm considering everything that’s happening,” Sunghoon stated in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Jay’s eyes to narrow into slits.

“One of our closest friends is sitting under a fucking ticking time bomb; I have no other choice than to be calm, Sunghoon.” Jay fumed, pointing a finger in Heeseung’s direction.

“How can you even be sure that they’ll actually drop?” Sunghoon resorted once again.

“Can you guarantee they won’t?” Jay asked, his undertone obviously showing that the trust he held for Sunghoon was starting to dwindle. His eyes were hard as he stared at the younger boy, who suddenly went silent. “Exactly, but if you’re okay with just sitting back and watching as one of your best friends sits on the brink of death, then be my fucking guest, but don’t expect anyone to come to save your sorry ass when it’s you in his position.” 

Sunghoon looks at Jay in complete disbelief, his hands trembling at his sides as heat rushes up his neck. He held eye contact with Jay, waiting to see if he would realize just how messed up what he said was, but when Sunghoon realized that he wasn’t going to, he looked away with a scoff.

“So quick to throw the blame on me, but what about your innocent princess? How do you know she didn’t plant my fucking bracelet on the body?” Sunghoon sneers, causing Jay’s jaw to tighten.

“That’s a pretty low blow, Sunghoon, blaming my sister because you fucked up.” Riki glared at the older male, arms crossed over his chest.

“I don’t kill anyone,” Sunghoon growled, eyes shooting daggers at the boy.

“Oh, and my sister did?” Riki shot back, a look of pure disgust covering his features, “And to think she thinks of you as a friend.” He scoffs, shaking his head and Sunghoon laughs, eyes looking away from Riki.

“Your sister isn’t this princess you see her as Riki. She’s not as innocent as you may want to think she is.” Sunghoon said, a fire burning in his pupils.

Riki could feel a rage bubble up in his gut; however, before he could open his mouth to resort, Jay intervened.

“Knock it the hell off,” Jay exclaims, grabbing Sunghoon’s shoulder. His patience is starting to wear thin.

Sunghoon just shrugged him off, glaring at him, “back off.”

That’s when that last little bit of patience that Jay had broken. Fed up with how Sunghoon was acting, Jay grabbed a hold of the boy's collar, pulling him close. “We are running out of time, so you can either hop off your high horse and help or shut up and get the fuck out of our way.”

Taken aback, Sunghoon shoves Jay off of him before taking a step back, his eyes narrowing. Heeseung sits quietly in his seat. The argument is like background noise as he lets his thoughts run wild.

“Did you do this, Sunghoon?” Heeseung’s voice was flat, with no sign of any emotion, head hung low. Sunghoon’s eyes snap over to him, opening his mouth to say no, but Heeseung cuts him off, “Then why was your bracelet on the body?” Heeseung lifted his head, and Sunghoon’s breath caught in his throat; tears brimmed in the older male’s eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. “If I’m going to die here tonight, I at least want to know why.” Heeseung’s voice cracked, and the tears he fought so hard to hold back broke free, streaming down his cheeks and dripping from his chin.

Sunghoon was at a complete loss for words, the severity of everything finally starting to sink in. Tears of his own filled his eyes as he watched Heeseung break. 

“I didn’t kill anyone, I swear.” Sunghoon nearly choked on his words, “I don’t know why my bracelet was there, but it wasn’t me.” However, his words held very little importance to Heeseung, and Sunghoon could see the trust crumbling into fine dust. Sunghoon then walked closer to the window, placing his palm flat on the glass, “We’re gonna get you out of here, and we’re gonna get out of here alive, I promise.” Sunghoon’s voice shook, tears dripping from his eyelashes.

Heeseung just shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You shouldn’t make promises that you can’t keep, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon repeats his words once more before wiping the tears from his face and turning towards Jay. Taking a few steps, he called out to the older male, gaining his attention.

Jay turned, a glare still fixed on his face, “If you’re going to say some stupid shit again, I don’t wanna hear it.”

The younger boy just swallowed thickly, shaking his head, “What do you need me to do?”

Jay looked him up and down, scrutinizing him before holding a piece of paper up. " We need to find two more pages with these symbols on them. I already found two, and Riki is over there looking for another.” He explained, pointing over to the younger boy who was rummaging through a filing cabinet.

Sunghoon nodded quickly before turning and making his way over to the cabinets that lined the far wall, tearing them completely apart. His mind was going haywire, thoughts overshadowing themselves as he repeatedly told himself that he would get Heeseung out. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the eyes that were watching him.

Riki peeked over his shoulder, seeing that both Jay and Sunghoon were too immersed in trying to find more of the code to be paying him any mind, and Heeseung’s eyes were trained on the floor by his feet, lost in his mind. Curing his fingers around whatever sat in his palm, he stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets just as Jay turned around.

The silver-haired male nodded at Sunghoon as he handed him the piece of paper that he had found before turning towards the younger boy.

“Have you found anything yet?” Jay asked, and Riki just shook his head, tightening his fist in his pocket. He had to bite his tongue as he listened to Jay grumble out a few curses before telling Sunghoon to keep looking. His head turned back to the timer, watching the seconds tick away.

~

The three of them completely tore the room apart, trying to find the last piece of the code. Sunghoon was starting to grow frustrated because he was sure that they had searched every single nook and cranny of the room but had yet to see any sign of it. Jay chewed on the nail of his thumb, trying to think of any other place they could look, while Riki continued to search through the cabinet on the opposite wall of Jay.

Heeseung lay his head back on the chair, eyes closed, thinking back to his childhood and all of the memories he’d made over the past few years. He was always a quiet kid when he was younger, never really feeling like he fit in anywhere. He was always sitting in the back of the class, staring out the window as music played through his headphones. Then he met Sunghoon in middle school.

Sunghoon was a new transfer student, perceived to be this quiet, cold guy who barely spoke a word to anyone. The only thing that anyone knew was that he could always be found at the ice rink or in the park with his camera. Heeseung saw himself in the boy, and he knew just how lonely it got, so he started to talk to Sunghoon every day regardless if the younger wanted him to or not. One day, Sunghoon stopped fighting him, and they became close friends, then they met Jay in high school. Then his mind went to when he first met you; you and Riki had just moved into his apartment complex, and you were carrying boxes up the stairs and almost fell. Thankfully for you, maybe not so much Heeseung, he was walking right behind you on his phone until you fell back, right into him. He managed to grab both you and the railing in time before either of you could fall; however, his phone didn’t quite make it safely.

“Ya know there’s safer ways to fall for me.” He teased you, watching as your face started turning red. You had apologized and promised to fix his phone, but he just chuckled, telling you that it was fine before helping you lug all of your belongings into your apartment, where Riki was waiting for you. From there, the two of you become inseparable, leading you to introduce him to Jake and Sunoo, and he introduces you to the other guys.

Everything was picture-perfect. Sure, you all have your ups and downs, but what friend group doesn’t? So he was left with the question of why. Why were you guys brought to this point? What had caused this? Where did they do wrong?

Heeseung lifted his head just as Jay walked in front of the window, “Jay.” His voice was hoarse from holding back tears but was still heard by the silver-haired male, causing him to stop and look over at Heeseung, “Do me a favor and tell y/n that I’m sorry for being so mean, ya?”

Jay felt his heart drop when he realized what Heeseung was implying; shaking his head, he told him no, “You can tell her yourself, dumbass, we’re getting you out.”  

However, Heeseung just shook his head softly, a small, sad smile playing on his chapped lips. The light that used to always gleam in his eyes was slowly vanishing. This broke Jay’s heart because he knew that his closest friend was accepting the fact that he may not make it out of there alive.

“There’s only fifteen minutes left, Jay. I’m not getting out of here.” Heeseung’s words stung Jay to the depths of his soul. Tears that he was trying to keep at bay started to spill over, flowing down his flushed cheeks. “Tell my mom that I love her and to make sure to look after herself.”

Jay wiped his face after finally realizing that he was crying, glaring at Heeseung, “Shut up, we’re getting you out of here.” His voice shook, willing himself to keep from breaking down, not even sure who he was really trying to reassure Heeseung or himself.

Sunghoon was rushing around the room, his heart beating in his ears and he tore apart places that he had already looked in multiple times. He knew that the last piece had to be around here somewhere, it couldn’t be gone, it just couldn’t. Turning around, his eyes landed on the younger boy who hadn't moved from that one side of the room.

“Riki, are you sure you haven’t found anything?” His voice came out a lot louder than he had intended, causing Riki to look over at him with wide, shocked eyes.

“Are you saying I was lying? I have been looking this whole time just like the two of you.” Riki sneered, glaring at the dark-haired male.

“Fuck, no, sorry.” Sunghoon curses, running his fingers through his hair, avoiding Riki’s harsh gaze before making his way over to the lockbox.

He grabbed the lock with shaky hands, inspecting the pattern of symbols on the dial. Running his fingers over the grooves, he turned around and found Jay hunched over another table, deep in his thoughts.

“Couldn’t we just try to guess the code?”

Both Riki and Jay looked over at the boy, Jay’s face devoid of any emotion as tears rolled down his cheeks, while Riki’s was stoic almost as if he wasn’t fully there.

“There are way too many possibilities, not to mention we don’t even have the last piece, so it’ll make it ten times harder,” Riki stated, pulling his lips into a thin line when he saw Sunghoon’s face drop.

“We don’t have the time for it anyway.” Jay’s voice cracked, eyes avoiding Sunghoon’s as he looked up at the timer, causing the other two to look over as well.

‘00:10:27’

Sunghoon felt the lump in his throat return, his body growing warm as a thin layer of sweat coated his icy skin. His ears were ringing so loud he couldn’t hear anything other than the high-pitched sound. Turning around, he started trying any combination on the lock that he could think of that involved the three pieces that they already had. Mixtures of curses and cries fell from his lips every time one of them turned out to be wrong.

Jay pushed himself off of the table before rummaging through the cabinets for the nth time, a small inkling of hope that he’d be able to find it. His hands shook so back that he could barely grab onto anything, his vision blurry as the tears fell from his lashes endlessly.

Riki moved from his spot, standing in front of the window to meet Heeseung’s gaze, who offered him a small smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. The younger boy stood there with a solemn look on his face, his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jacket.

“Hey Riki,” Heeseung’s voice was merely above a whisper, but the boy heard it nonetheless. "Take care of your sister. She’s going to need you after tonight.”

Riki swallows thickly, nodding his head, “always.”

Heeseung nods his head slowly, his smile never leaving his face. His eyes then travel to the other two, Sunghoon’s movements frantic when he realizes just how quickly time is running out. Jay moves over to the cabinet that Riki has been looking through, throwing everything to the ground as he searches it.

“Guys,” Heeseung calls out to them, but neither of them pays him any mind, not wanting to hear anything he has to say. Their hope was hanging on by a thread, but they were going to try their damnedest, even to the very last second. Heeseung bit the inside of his cheek, his heart rate speeding up as he watched the seconds tick by. “Listen to me, dammit!”

‘00:01:25

Sunghoon and Jay reluctantly looked away from what they were doing, tears stinging their eyes as they met the older male’s eyes. Heeseung looked between them with a sorrowful look, his eyes glancing over to Sunghoon, “I’m sorry for accusing you, Hoon; I know you’d never do that.” Tears started to spill from Heeseung’s bloodshot eyes; Sunghoon bit his lip, shaking his head.

‘00:01:02’

“It’s okay, Hee. I’m sorry for lashing out.” Sunghoon’s voice shook, fresh tears brimming his eyes. His heart felt as if someone was stabbing multiple tiny little knives into it before leaving it to bleed out. Was he really going to lose his best friend like this? The first person who actually saw him as a person?

“Water under the bridge, right?” Heeseung’s voice was soft, not a single ounce of malice causing Sunghoon’s heart to lurch, nodding his head too afraid his words would fail him.

‘00:00:54’

Heeseung’s eyes then moved over to Jay, who was standing there, lip trapped between his teeth, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Jay, go and ask y/n out when y’all make it out of here, ya?”

Jay felt dizzy, blinking harshly to try and clear the tears that had built up on his waterline. Licking his chapped lips, he nods, “Yeah…” His voice trails on the first tear, dropping, allowing the others to follow. His whole body shook as he watched his best friend look over at Riki, all the thoughts of their past circulating in his mind. His heart was cracking little by little until it was completely shattered, the shards cutting everything around it. Was this really going to be the end of their friendship? Was it really going to end before they got the chance to be each other's best man at their weddings? Before they could watch their kids grow up together?

‘00:00:42’

Riki refused to meet Heeseung’s eyes, keeping them glued to the ground right by his feet. His mind was swirling with thoughts, but his face remained unchanged even when Heeseung coaxed him to look up.

“You’re a good kid, Riki. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I know your sister may give you a hard time, but she loves you. So much.” Heeseung’s voice then cracked, “I will always be with you guys. Feel free to take any of my games from the apartment. I wouldn't want them to go to waste.” Tears were flowing down Heeseung’s flushed cheeks as he offered the boy a small smile.

Riki didn’t say a word, his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes seemed to have darkened as he altered his gaze, the tips of his ears turning a shade of scarlet red. How was he going to explain all of this to his sister? How was he going to be able to sit there watching as she sobbed over the death of her ‘friends’?

‘00:00:27’

Heeseung closed his eyes, allowing tears to fall from the corner of his eyes. Little snippets of his life flashed behind his eyelids, allowing him to cherish those memories one last time before they were all lost to time. He inhaled, shaky, before opening his eyes to look at his friend once more. 

‘00:00:09’

“Thank you for everything, for dealing with my annoying ass, for allowing me to be your friend, for allowing me to find a place where I belong.” Heeseung smiled weakly, “Thank you for being my family.”

Time felt like it had stopped when the timer buzzed, and the crate opened, allowing the spiders to drop. The creatures scattered all over Heeseung’s body, some biting as soon as they landed. His lip was caught between his teeth, trying his best to muffle any sounds that escaped his lungs, eyes screwed shut as pain erupted all over his body. His jaw fell slack as screams of pure agony echoed all around the room. Each bite he received seemed to be ten times worse than the last, leaving his skin to feel like it was being set ablaze. His arms involuntarily jerked against the restraints in any attempt to get out, but he couldn’t.

Sunghoon felt like he was going to be sick as he watched the insects latch themself onto any exposed skin Heeseung had shown before turning his head, hand covering his mouth. Riki averted his gaze, hands clenching into fists in the pockets of his jacket once more. Jay watched in utter disbelief, tears rolling down his face as he watched and listened to Heeseung start to quiet until they were merely an echo in his brain, and his body lay still, his skin red and irritated as bumps started to show from the multitude of bites.

Then a shutter came down, blocking Heeseung’s mutilated body from their view. Jay was rooted to the same spot, eyes on his reflection that started right back at him. Sunghoon takes a small step back before dropping down to the ground, head in his hands, pure terror and shock etched on his face. Riki continued to stare at the wall just beside the window, his face voice of any emotion, but there was a slight gleam in his eyes, fingers fidgeting with the slip of paper in his pocket.

Jay then shouted out of pure rage and pain, completely clearing the table of the lockbox and papers. Tears continued to stream down his face as he hit the table a few times until his knuckles were bruised and swollen. A string of cusses left his lips until they died down into quiet sobs as his head hung low.

The sound of a beep echoed in the deadly silent room, causing Jay and Riki to look up; Sunghoon stayed crouched down, mumbling incoherently. Jay felt a newfound sense of rage bubble up in his chest as he read the words on the screen.

‘GAME OVER – BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!!’

Just then, the lock on their door clicks, signaling that they are allowed to leave; being the closest to it, Riki grabs the handle, pulling it open. He looked down the dimly lit hallway seeing no sign of anyone else before looking back at the other two. Sunghoon was unmoving, fingers knotted in his hair as he stared at the window, while Jay’s eyes stayed glued to the TV screen, his mind running a million miles an hour.

Riki swallowed thickly before opening his mouth to speak, “We should probably go find the others.” His voice was quiet as the weight of the room started to set in on him.

Heeseung was gone.

It had been about five minutes since the timer had started, and the water turned on. Five minutes since you and Jungwon scrambled to search the nearest cabinet. Five minutes of Sunoo watching you silently, his brain mulled with thoughts.

You had torn almost every book, decoration, file, paper, or other item out of the cabinet. Mumbling small curses to yourself as your hand slipped, almost causing you to cut your palm on the corner, Jungwon looked over. Hearing your small grunt of pain, worry flickered in his eyes.

“Hey, I found something!” Jake exclaims, holding up a box. "There’s some kind of combination lock on it.” He sets the box down just as you and Jungwon walk over, moving out of the way.

“There’s probably two other boxes like this,” Jungwon states, eyes flickering up to you before moving to Jake.

You quickly nodded, looking between both of the boys, telling them to continue looking for the other boxes. The three of you then split off once more, tearing the room apart for the other objects, knowing they held the key to getting Sunoo out of the box he was in.

Before too long both of the other boxes had been found, you and Jungwon setting them on the table next to the one that Jake had found. You stood there looking at them, thinking about your next course of action despite the shaking of your hands. Jake stood next to you, his hand lightly placed on your lower back, causing a chill to run down your spine.

“Do you think the codes are the same?” Jake asked, bottom lip caught between his teeth, his hand still on you.

Becoming uncomfortable with the way his fingers were curling around the fabric of your shirt, you took a step away, putting a good distance between the two of you. “I doubt it,” you cleared your throat, looking everywhere but the brunette’s eyes. " The codes are probably hidden around the room, too.”

Jake’s jaw clenched as he tried his best to push the annoyance down, nodding his head. You swallowed thickly before returning his nod and turning around to walk away, leaving the boy to watch you with gleaming eyes.

He ran his tongue over his teeth before turning and walking over to another filing cabinet, pulling the drawer open quite roughly. Jungwon watched with furrowed brows, clearly confused by Jake’s reaction and wondering why he started acting so hostile. However, he pushed it to the side, deciding to deal with it later, whenever they all got out.

It had taken about five minutes before you scrambled to your feet, exclaiming that you had found one of the codes, catching both of the boys’ attention. Quickly making your way over to the table where the boxes were sitting you showed Jugwon the page before bending down to start unlocking the lock. However, your hands shook with so much force that it was causing the lock to slip from your fingers. Tears were blurring your vision, which only added to your struggle, causing you to let out a few curses.

Noticing your struggle, Jake walks over and places a soft hand on your shoulder. " Hey, just slow down. You’re rushing too much.”

Scoffing, you shrugged his hand off, turning to glare at him. “Slow down? Jake, he is in there with running water, I don’t have the time to slow down!” You pointed a finger in Sunoo’s direction, “We need to get the keys out so we can unlock that fucking box before he drowns!”

Jake was taken aback by your outburst, but the shock quickly shifted to annoyance, “yeah, we do need to get the keys out, but you seem to be incapable of doing so with all of your shaking.” He rolled his eyes, and you opened your mouth to retort, but he beat you to it, “No one is going to yell at you for not going fast enough; we’re not your parents, for fucks sake, y/n.”

Your jaw fell slack, and all of the words you were going to say died on your tongue as you stared at the male in utter disbelief. Jungwon stood off to the side with a nervous look on his face, unsure of how to defuse the situation.

“Hey guys, let’s not-”

“That's a real fucking low blow, Jake,” Your tone was full of hurt as you glared at him before turning back to the boxes.

Jake just scoffs, rolling his eyes, “god, I forgot how much of a damn drama queen you are.”

Jungwon looked at Jake in surprise while you tried your best to ignore him. Your jaw clenched tightly as you unlocked the box. You pulled the lid open before taking the key that was sitting inside and pocketing it. Sending Jake one last glare, you turned and walked off in pursuit of the other lock combinations.

Sensing the tension in the air, Jungwon walks over and puts his hand on Jake's shoulder. “Let’s just look for the other codes,” the younger boy suggests. However, the only response that he reserved was Jake shoving his hand off and him walking off. Sighing, Jungwon closed his eyes, shaking his head, before walking over to Sunoo, who had been watching the two of them.

Jungwon placed his hand on the glass, looking up at the boy. “Just hang tight. We’re going to get you out of there.”

Sunoo nods with a small smile before watching as Jungwon walks away before looking over at you. You had found another cabinet and were searching through the bottom drawer, but tears kept obstructing your vision, causing you to let out a few curses while wiping them away. Sunoo watched with sorrow as your shoulders shook, his heart hurting seeing you so broken.

“Y/n.” He called out your name, causing you to stop what you were doing, and turned to look at him, wiping some of the tears from your face. Standing to your feet, you made your way over to the blonde, who offered you a sad smile. “Don’t let what he said get to you, okay? Emotions are so high right now I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” 

You knew that he was probably right. All of you were trapped in such a stressful situation that it was not that much of a surprise that someone snapped. You nodded softly, wiping more of the tears off of your cheeks before a small smile pulled on the corner of your lips, which made Sunoo’s heart swell.

However, your smile quickly dropped when you realized that the water had already traveled up to his knees. Panic started to etch itself into your bones once more as you placed your hand on the glass, Sunoo mimicking your movements.

“We’ll get you out soon, I promise.” Your voice cracked slightly, causing Sunoo’s heart to lurch. He smiled, trying his best to reassure you, but the smile didn’t quite meet his eyes.

Deep down Sunoo had a small feeling that this was going to be his last twenty minutes on earth. Something was telling him that they weren’t going to find all of the keys on time, that he was going to end up taking his last breath.  He started to think back to everything that led up to now, how he spent the last year pining over someone who would just be right out of his reach. How he had made plans with Riki and Jungwon to go on a road trip this summer, but now they would have to take the trip without him. He thought back to when he first met Riki, which is funny in itself because he was at the store looking for a game that Jungwon sent him out to get, accidentally running into Riki, literally. The boy was in such a rush to get back home before his favorite show started that he hadn't seen Riki standing there. Riki, who had just as surprised as Sunoo offered him a hand up and teased him for being in such a rush before asking what he was looking for.

“Some new game my roommate sent me to grab,” Sunoo rolled his eyes, “not even sure why I agreed to.” Riki couldn’t help but laugh, but he had helped Sunoo find that game before exchanging numbers because of a show they both liked.

Tears started to prick at Sunoo’s eyes as he wondered what he did to deserve this? What have any of you done to deserve this? It was something that he was sure that he would wonder even after he was laid to rest.

Jake glanced over his shoulder, seeing that everyone else was distracted, his fingers wrapping around the box nearest to him. Sunoo caught him from the corner of his eye, eyebrows furrowed together as he watched the older male stuff something in his pocket and set the box back down just as you turned around.

Eyes narrowing slightly, you looked Jake up and down. "What are you doing?” Your voice caught Jake’s attention, causing him to turn to look at you. "Did you find another code?”

Jake shakes his head, pulling his hand from his pocket to point at the box that he just had in his hand. “I was just checking to see if there was anything on the bottom.” His voice is steady as he meets your gaze. Something about the gleam in his eyes leaves a bad taste in your mouth. However, against your better judgment, you decide not to question him, though you do look at him with a scrutinizing gaze.

“So, was there anything?” Your tone held a bit of sas that caused the male to bite his tongue, trying his best to not lash out once more; more than enough damage had already been done.

So he just shook his head, “No, there’s nothing.”

With a curt nod, you turned back around to continue your search for the missing codes. Sunoo glanced at you for a moment before looking over at Jake, who opened a drawer that he was sure he had already looked through a few times. Alarms started going off in the blonde’s head, something telling him that something was very, very wrong, but he didn’t want to just assume anything.

The feeling of eyes on him caused Jake to turn his head, meeting Sunoo’s gaze. He raised an eyebrow, questioning the blonde silently, who just gave him a tight-lipped smile and turned away, but not before catching a glimpse of what looked to be a knife in the older male’s jacket pocket.

A shiver runs throughout Sunoo’s entire body as he looks elsewhere in the room, unsure if it was due to what he had just seen or if it was the cold water that was soaking his clothes little by little. His heart beat loudly in his ears as he tried to think why Jake would have a knife. Surely, the person behind all of this would have taken any kind of weapon that they had on them, and if he had found it in the room, why hadn’t he said anything? Sunoo had gotten so lost that he hadn’t even noticed Jungwon leap to his feet, holding up a piece of paper.

“I found another one!” He exclaimed before making a beeline for the boxes; you were hot on his heels.

Jungwon grabbed one of the boxes just as you stood by his side, arms brushing against each other as you watched him intently. However, at the sight of you standing so close to the younger boy, Jake's lip twitched, a glare adorning his features, all of which didn’t go unnoticed by Sunoo.

Before he could speak aloud, Jungwon threw the box open, grabbing the key out and showing you with a wide smile on his face. You guys were one step closer to getting Sunoo out of there. But then all of the excitement died down when he looked over to show Sunoo the key and saw that the water was mid-chest on the older male.

Panic starts to cloud your mind, causing you to look around the room frantically, yelling at the other two boys to pick it up and keep looking. Jake walked over to a bookshelf that was off to Sunoo’s right while Jungwon walked over to another cabinet.

Jungwon mumbled something akin to promises of finding the last one, his ears ringing so loudly that it’d be a miracle if he heard anything else. You practically threw out of the shelf that you had been looking through, flipping through the pages of the books. Tears involuntarily brimming in your eyes once more, but you bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from letting them fall.

Jake licked his lips, his eyes flickering over to you before he shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket. Clearing his throat, he called out to you and Jungwon, a sense of urgency in his tone causing all of your attention to shift over to him. He held up the crinkled paper, causing your eyes to light up before rushing over to him.

You stood next to Jake, staring over his shoulder urging him to open the box already while Jungwon walked over to Sunoo with a bright smile on his lips.

“We’re getting you out of there, Sun.” Jungwon felt tears of relief fill his eyes, but Sunoo would only offer him a smile, a gut feeling telling him that something was wrong.

Jake opens the box with a flourish, but his eyes grow wide at the sight of an empty box. Looking over, he watches as fear and panic morph into your face once more. You snatch the box out of Jake’s hands, causing him to recoil back slightly, his eyes widening.

Your panic-stricken eyes looked into the box, seeing that the key was, in fact, not in there, “Son of a bitch!” You shouted, throwing the box to the ground, the metal crashing into the ground, causing the sound to reverberate all around the room.

With tears streaming down your face, you search the room for anything that could break the last lock. All your attempts proved to be futile; nothing was quite strong enough to even begin to crack the lock. 

“Fuck!” All of the anger and frustration started to bubble in your chest, a stream of tears falling from your eyes. Jungwon looked up from his spot on the ground next to Sunoo, lock in hand trying to see if he could pick it.

In the heat of the moment, she grabbed one of the chairs that sat at the desk before swinging as hard as she could, hitting the glass and causing all three boys to jump at the sudden sound. Jungwon shields his head when you go to swing the chair once more, but Jake grabs your arm, causing you to glare at him.

“There’s no point.” His voice was flat, causing your heart to sink. Had he really already accepted Sunoo’s fate?

“How would you know?” You seethed, yanking your arm free from his grasp just as Jungwon stood from the ground.

“And why are you just standing there doing nothing?” Jungwon pointed at Jake, who just slapped his hand out of the way, a glare of his own covering his face.

“Because there’s nothing we can do; what about that, do you not get?” Jake growled, looking between you and Jungwon.

Before you could open your mouth, Sunoo butts in, “Y/n, he’s right, time’s alm-”

“No, there’s a way. I’ll find a way, dammit.” You hissed through your teeth, tears sticking to your eyelashes. You refused to hear anything else as you continued your search for anything that could get the lock undone.

Sunoo sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them once more to look at you. It pained him so much to see you trying so hard to save him, and it broke his soul to know that he was about to cause a lot of pain—not just to you but to all of your other friends.

“Y/n.” He called out to you, but you shook your head not giving him your attention. Letting out a sigh, he placed his hand against the glass, the water merely inches away from his neck. “Y/n, look at me, please.” This time you look over at him, tears streaming down your flushed face, eyes bloodshot, “there’s no time.” 

A sob tore through your lungs, a sound that Sunoo never wanted to hear, let alone be the cause of. Tears of his own stung at the corner of his eyes as he watched Jungwon grab your frail body, pulling you into his chest. He didn’t want his last few moments alive seeing that heartbreaking expression on your face, so he offered a small smile when you finally looked up to meet his gaze.

“Do you remember that new cafe we wanted to go to?” Sunoo’s voice was soft, only causing your heart to hurt more because you knew what he was starting to get at.

But you still nodded, “yeah, you always talked about the paw print design on the cups.”

Sunoo couldn’t help but chuckle because he knew she was right. Ever since the cafe released their cup designs, Sunoo couldn’t shut up about how cute they were and how he wanted one to use at home.

“Go and try it out for me, ya?” He asked, a teary smile on his lips as he watched you choke back a sob but still nodded, telling him that you would. Your hands balled Jungwon’s shirt into a fist as sobs continued to rack through your body.

Jungwon tightened his grip around your waist, letting you cry into his shoulder as he bit the inside of his cheek to keep his own tears at bay. However, it proved to be a lot harder than he thought when Sunoo looked in his direction.

“Hey, Won.” Sunoo smiled, his bottom lip trembling, “go ahead and do me a favor, ya?”

Jungwon’s hand tightened against your hip, “of course, Sun.”

“Stop being so reckless all of the time; you’re gonna get yourself hurt one day.” Sunoo mused, and Jungwon couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as his tears finally broke free. “Oh, and get that game you’ve been going crazy over, okay?”

The younger boy swallowed thickly, trying to keep from entirely breaking down. “I will, Sun, I promise.” His voice shook, and his vision became blurry as more tears flowed from his eyes.

Sunoo offered Jungwon one last smile before looking over at Jake, his heart feeling heavy. The last thing he needed to do was throw around accusations, but he hoped that a few words of warning to Jungwon would suffice if anything were to happen. However, the questioning look on the older male’s face made his stomach turn. 

Swallowing thickly, he gestured to you and Jungwon, “Make sure they make it out alive, okay?”

Jake poked the inside of his cheek before nodding, reassuring him that he would. Seconds later, the water completely submerged Sunoo. He held his breath as he looked at the three of you once more before fully accepting his fate.

Choked sobs tore through your body as you watched in horror as Sunoo’s body fought to get air, bubbles surrounding his head until they slowly diminished into nothing, and his body sank to the bottom of the container. His eyes closed, and if he hadn’t been in the water, you would have thought he was just sleeping.

Jungwon’s grip slipped from your body, allowing you to drop to the ground, eyes never leaving Sunoo’s body. Sobs no longer fell from your lips, but tears continued to silently fall from your eyes.

The younger boy just stood there, arms hung by his sides as he stared at the body of his best friend, waiting to wake up from this sick and twisted nightmare. Wanting to wake up already to walk into the living room to see the blonde perched on the couch with a bowl of cereal while watching whatever drama show was on that morning. However, no matter how many times he pinches himself he doesn’t seem to be waking up. With every pinch, the reality of everything sank in, and all he could do was cry.

Jake stood off to the side, his eyes staring at the blonde’s body. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw was taught. 

Both boys looked at the TV screen when the buzzer alarmed them. Jake quickly looked away, his hands stuffed deep in his jacket pockets.

“Fuck you, you sick sons of bitches.” Jungwon cursed, wiping the tears from his face with a scoff as he read the words they had displayed with little animated fish swimming around.

‘GAME OVER – BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!!’

Their attention was then pulled to the door. When the sound of the lock turning was heard, Jake made his way over to it. Pulling his hands from his packets, he reached for the doorknob before pulling it open, peeking out, and then looking back at Jungwon, whose eyes were already on him.

“We better go find the others.” His voice was merely above a whisper, and his eyes shifted away from the boy down to you. The shock had completely rendered your body motionless, but your eyes were still glued to where Sunoo lay at the bottom of the tank.

One of your friends was gone, Sunoo was dead.

Not a word was uttered as Jay, Sunghoon, and Riki walked down the dimly lit hallway. Each in their own world, they were still trying to come to terms with what they had just witnessed. Jay led the way while Sunghoon trailed along in the back, eyes devoid of any emotion save for sorrow. Then, Riki walked between the two.

Jay then sees a door at the end of the hall, light shining through the cracks. He mutters a quick ‘come on’ before walking towards the door. Waiting just a second, he tried to see if he could hear anything, but no sound came through the thick wooden door. Glancing behind him for a second, Riki just gave him a slight nod while Sunghoon remained stoic.

On the other side of the door, Jungwon shot to his feet when he heard the sound of the door knob turning; his nerves completely shot. However, as soon as Jay’s face came into view he could feel his body significantly relax. He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on his lips, seeing that their other friends were fine, at least he thought they were until he realized that something was severely wrong. Looking around, he noticed that another of their friends was missing, nowhere to be seen, and he could feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

“Where’s Heeseung?” Jungwon’s words caught your attention, causing you to look over before standing to your feet when you didn’t see the older male anywhere. Sunghoon looked away, his lip tucked between his teeth, avoiding your and Jungwon’s gazes. 

With a few quick strides, you walked over to Jay, grabbing his forearms. Jay bit the inside of his cheek at the sight of your bloodshot eyes, knowing that you had already been crying long before they even made it into the room. 

Terror filled your veins as you tried to convince yourself that he was fine, that he was just lagging behind the rest of them, that he would walk through that door any second and tease her for crying over him. However, seeing the heartbreak on Sunghoon’s face left your heart beating in your ears as you swallowed thickly before asking the dreaded question.

“Jay, where’s Heeseung?” Your bottom lip trembled as you fought back tears, shifting your gaze over to your brother, who just closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” Jay’s voice came out hoarse, and your eyes went wide, your heart shattering, “he’s gone.” 

You shake your head, releasing Jay’s arms before taking a step back, “No, no, no, NO!” You cried out, hands in your hair as you dropped to the ground. Sobs tore through your exhausted lungs, causing them to come out choked as tears flooded from your eyes before dropping to the hardwood floor.

Your cries echoed all over the room, etching itself into each of the boy’s bones. Jay tilted his head up towards the ceiling to keep the tears at bay while Sunghoon bit his lip, wishing he’d never have to hear something as devastating as this ever again.

All of your memories of Heeseung came crashing into you all at once, causing your screams to increase in agony. Your vision was completely obscured by the tears as you covered your ears to try and drown out the ringing, but it was no use. Your breathing then started to hitch, causing alarm amongst the rest.

Jay was the first to move towards you but was quickly intervened by Riki, who pushed him away, a hard look in his eye as he bent down to grab you.

“I’ve got her.” The boy’s tone was harsh, causing Jay to take a small step back, knowing now wouldn’t be the best time for an argument to break out.

So he watched as Riki helped you to your feet before leading you to the couch. Then he looked around the room, seeing that a certain blonde was nowhere to be seen either. Eyebrows scrunched together, he looked over at Jungwon, ready to ask where Sunoo was, but the younger boy just shook his head, a solemn look gracing his features.

“Fucking hell.” Jay cursed, running his fingers through his hair and walking off to the side of the room. How could they lose two people within the span of just an hour? How many more of them were going to have to die before they managed to get out of this hell hole?

~

After a short while, you had finally calmed down a little bit. Now, you were leaning against your brother, silent tears still falling down your cheeks. No one had said a word, not sure what to say or too lost in their own minds to even bother speaking.

Riki moved slightly, lifting his head to look at the others. " We should take this chance to look around, do you think?” His words caught Jay’s attention, causing the older male to look over at him. “I mean, the doors are still unlocked, so shouldn’t we look for a way out or clues at least?”

Jay nods his head before pushing himself to his feet, followed by Jake and Jungwon. However, neither you nor Sunghoon showed any kind of response. Jay lets out a sigh, walking over to the dark-haired male and placing his hand on his shoulder. Sunghoon still shows no response even after Jay tells him to come on, and neither do you, your eyes still glued to the same spot on the ground.

He was trying to be patient with the two of you, but his patience had already been worn to the max, and there wasn’t much left that he could spare before snapping. So he pinches the bridge of his nose before giving the both of you a stern look.

“Do you really think this is what Hee or Sunoo would have wanted?” Jay’s voice was hard, but all you could do was scoff before glaring up at him.

“The last time we snooped around, two of our friends died, so I’m sorry if I don’t wanna run that risk again.” You hissed, standing on your feet. The last thing you wanted to do was witness another one of your friends dying, already experiencing enough heartbreak to last ten lifetimes.

Jay returned your glare with one of his own, “If we stay here, one or even all of us are bound to die.” He gestured to the others around the two of you, “I would much rather die trying to get free rather than sit here and wait for death because, guess what? That would mean that our friends' deaths were in vain.” Jay’s words struck a cord deep within your soul causing you to flinch while Sunghoon inhaled deeply before nodding his head.

“Jay’s right,” He walked over to stand next to Jay, looking down at you, a mixture of emotions swirling in his iris’, “I don’t know about you, y/n, but I’m about to sit around and let Hee’s death be for nothing,”

Your glare shifted from Jay to the taller male next to him, the feeling of uncertainty coming back. How could you trust him after finding his bracelet? After Heeseung died when he was with him? So many emotions were stored away in your body that you weren’t even sure what to feel, but you did know that anger was the strongest. Your hands clenched at your sides before stepping away from the couch and closer to Sunghoon.

“I swear to god, if I find out that you’re the one behind all of this. I will personally kill you myself.” You seethed before making your way towards the door and ripping it open. Riki was hot on your heels when you stormed out of the room.

Jake watched from the back, his eyes darting between everyone who stood in the room with him, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips when he saw Sunghoon’s face fall. However, the expression didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon, who just happened to glance at the older boy. Sensing someone’s gaze, Jake looked over, meeting Jungwon’s, a gleam in his eyes daring the younger boy to say something. Swallowing thickly Jungwon tore his gaze away from Jake before making his way towards the door, looking back at the other.

“Come on, let’s find a way outta here.” His voice was full of uncertainty but he just tried his best to ignore the red flags and focus on getting out for right now. Jay’s tongue darted out to wet his lips before he nodded and followed Jungwon out of the door, Sunghoon right behind him. Jake was the last out of the room, walking out with his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jacket, a smug gleam in his eyes when Jungwon looked back knowing that he had the boy right in the palm of his hand. Jake knew that Jungwon didn’t have the guts to say anything to the rest of the group, not as long as Jake was nearby, and with that information, Jake couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement.

It had felt like the six of you had been walking down the dimly lit hallways for hours, and not a single clue or exit was to be found. However, what you did find were cobwebs and roaches, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Looking around, it wasn’t hard to tell that this was a more run-down part of whatever building you were stuck in, most likely the basement.

The air around you was thick with tension, and it was weighing on each of you. However, no one had the guts to break it—at least not until Jungwon saw a broken clock off to the side.

“I wonder how long we’ve been stuck here…” He questions out loud, not to anyone in particular, but Jake glances around.

“Probably most, if not all, of the night,” Jake murmurs as he cringes when another roach scurries in front of his feet. Everything then goes silent once more, much to Jungwon’s dismay.

Before too long they make it to the end of the hallway, dread filling your senses when you saw that it forked off into two separate directions. All of you stop before turning to face one another to come up with a game plan.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just split up?” Riki suggests from his spot beside you, but you are quick to shake your head, refusing the idea.

“No, we’re not splitting up.” Fear laced your tone causing both Jay and Jungwon to look over at you while Sunghoon nodded his head in agreement.

“I second that; every time we’ve been split up, something bad happens.” Sunghoon explained eyebrows furrowed as he looked between each of you.

Jake, however, steps forward, glancing between you and Sunghoon. " It’ll just take more time if we all stay together.” Riki and Jay nod, knowing that he was right; they would cover more ground if you were to split up.

You start to protest, but Jay turns towards you, cupping your face in his palms, and you look up at him with worry-filled eyes.

“Y/n, love, listen to me.” His voice was soft as he spoke to you, tears involuntarily filling his eyes. “We can split up into two groups and meet back here in thirty minutes. That way, we can cover as much ground as possible in a shorter amount of time.”

You bit your bottom lip to keep the tears that had pooled on your waterline at bay before saying okay. Jay then gives you a soft smile before leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. Neither of you caught the look of anger and disgust that flashed across Jake’s face. However, Jungwon once again caught it, causing a chill to run down his spine, worried about what kind of thoughts were running through the older male’s head.

He opens his mouth to voice his concerns, but Jake once more cuts him off before he can get a single word out, “I’ll go with Sunghoon and Jungwon. You take y/n and Jay.”

Jungwon couldn’t help but feel his heart drop, a sense of dread washing over his body, soaking into his bones. More so when everyone agrees to the teams, blissfully unaware of what was happening. Swallowing the lump in his throat Jungwon makes his way over to you, grabbing your hand in his. 

The feeling of paper on your palm made you open your mouth to question the boy, but the look in his eyes told you not to say a word, so you didn’t. He then offers you a small smile before telling you to be safe. You closed your fingers around the paper when he moved his hand away before returning his sentiment and going to stand next to Jay, who had been watching quietly. 

“Alright, we’ll meet back here in thirty. Be safe, all of you.” Jay spoke, pointing to each of the boys on the opposite side of the hall.

Sunghoon nodded, looking over at Jake, then shifted his gaze to Jungwon before meeting Jay's once more, “We will, but the same goes for the three of you.”

With that, the six of you split up once more, walking down opposite sides of the hall, the promise of meeting back in thirty minutes hanging in the air.

Jay notices you uneasy and reaches down to intertwine his fingers with yours, catching your attention. "We’re gonna get out of here, and we’ll be okay,” he whispers softly before pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles.

~

When the three of you made it to an open door, you peeked inside, seeing zero signs of any kind of life, which you weren’t sure you should feel happy or creeped out by. However, when you got inside, you suggested splitting up to look through the shelves and cabinets, to which both boys agreed.

Once you were off to the side of the room and made sure that neither Jay nor Riki were looking you slipped the paper out of your pocket, unfolding it. Your eyes blew wide open as you read the words that Jungwon had hurriedly scribbled on the page.

‘There’s something up with Jake; he’s acting weird, and Sunoo told me that he had seen a knife in his pocket.’

Quickly covering your mouth to muffle the gasp that fell from your lips, you looked up and over to say something to the guys, but then the lights went out, leaving the room pitch black.

You jumped at the sudden change, panic flooding into your mind. Reaching around you, you tried to find some kind of table to stabilize yourself.

“Jay? Riki? Where are you guys?” You called out, fingers gripping the edge of whatever you had grabbed, sure that your knuckles were a ghostly shade of white.

“Y/n? Where are you?” You heard Jay’s voice, and you felt your shoulders relax a bit. You moved to follow where the sound of his voice came from: “Here, follow my voice.”

Then it dawned on you that you never received a response from your brother, causing your heart to start hammering under your ribs.

“Riki, where are you?” you called out again, using your hands to maneuver the space around you. However, just like before, there was no sign of your brother. “Riki now is not the time for one of your little pranks. Where the hell are you?”

Jay had made his way over to you, grabbing your arm softly and causing your body to jolt. "It’s just me.”

You frantically turned your head, trying to see anything in the pitch-dark room. " Do you know where Riki is?” Fear started to wash over you, and you were scared that something had happened to your little brother.

Before Jay could even get the chance to say anything, the lights flashed back on, momentarily blinding the both of you.

Blinking a few times, you let your eyes adjust to the new lighting before you turned your body in every direction, seeing absolutely no sign of your brother. Not only that but the door had been closed and more than likely locked, causing your breath to hitch in your throat as you looked over at Jay with wide, fear-stricken eyes.

“Where’s Riki?” Your voice shook as you frantically looked around the room for any sign of the younger boy; it felt like all of the air was being stolen from your lungs as you ran your fingers through your hair, “Where the fuck is my brother?”

Riki was gone, and you were trapped in yet another room…

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

OmfffffGGGG the fun I had writing this chapter GUYS—

I mean start to finish, I've been giggling like an idiot the entire mfing TIME

Well, alternating between giggling like an idiot and snickering deviously like a witch huddled over a cauldron but that's neither here nor there

Of course we have banter between Garp's dippy ass and Bogard's far more poised and reasonable demeanor, but also

BUT ALSO—

No

i cannot

I can't spoil it I cannot I will not I must not I shan't it would be positively rude in all honesty i will not—

Just———muffled screaming

Look I'm sorry in advance I had way too much fun with this

even mihawk is done with my shit at this point

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch. 4 of who even fcking knows at this point honestly, five? Six? Fifty? Whatever just let me vibe

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. Your first recon mission, while more or less a success, left you wounded and your commanding officers more divided than ever over the operation at hand. You have since arrived at Marineford to complete your training for the mission, and gods only know where things might go from here....

Previous chapter, First chapter, Next chapter

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

No Trigger Warnings in this chapter. Possible future Trigger Warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later Word Count: 4,832

Taglist: @i-am-vita thank you so much you have no idea how much this means to me

♫♬Halloween Blues - The Fratellis♬♫

Well, I'm gonna make ya love me, gonna make ya wish that you'd never been born

Now ya wish you'd never met me, I could be the joker that you couldn't shake off

It was agreed upon by all parties involved that not a word would be spoken of your ill-advised “test” at Kuraigana Island to anyone but Fleet Admiral Sengoku. The brunt of the chastisement fell upon Garp and Bogard, as the commanding officers overseeing the mission; and while you were scolded yourself for getting far closer than your orders had suggested you should, you were still commended for providing valuable new information.

The Marines were now aware that Kuraigana Island was home to a population of large primates, of undetermined size or intelligence but with enough intellect to use basic weaponry.

The Marines were also now aware that the presence of Dracule “Hawk-Eye” Mihawk on the otherwise abandoned island was confirmed, and that the volatile pirate had most likely set up at least a temporary base amid the desolate castle ruins.

You were permitted to keep in contact with your mother over the following months of your training as promised, with the stipulation that your letters would be screened to ensure you didn’t relay any confidential information to outside parties. As such, you wrote your final letter aboard a small unmarked vessel bound to pass by Kuraigana Island perhaps four months after the first, and had handed it over to Bogard to scan over.

Hi, Mom!

I’m still doing great, I promise. Training has been exhausting but I’ve learned a lot, and it’s been a breath of fresh air to be among people that actually seem to like me. My commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay. I trust them.

This will be the last letter for a while since I’m being deployed. You don’t have to worry, it’s nothing serious and I’ll be fine, I just won’t be somewhere that I can receive any mail. You can still write me though, and I’ll be able to reply the second I get back to my base. I don’t know exactly how long that will be, but the tentative estimate is two months. It could be sooner, but it could be a little longer.

Love you, and give my love to all our feathery friends.

“Ten minutes out,” said Garp, sitting against the railing with a doughnut hanging out of his mouth as he finished filling out the remainder of the paperwork he had put off until the very last minute.

“‘Commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay,’” Bogard read aloud, lowering your letter to glance down at you with a wry look.

“She’s not wrong, you’re pretty damned irritating,” said Garp. Bogard lowered his eyes to the vice admiral sitting on the deck of the ship, lifting an eyebrow.

Garp only raised his doughnut with a nod and took another bite before returning to his report. Bogard huffed out a sigh and folded the letter, turning his gaze to you as you paced back and forth across the small deck. The vessel was little more than a sloop, designed for no more than one or two people to sail on their own, sturdy enough to withstand the unpredictable weather patterns of the Grand Line but far less advanced than the standard Marine vessel. You barely noticed his gaze upon you, staring down at your feet as you paced, counting the nails in the deck boards in a futile attempt to keep your mind clear from the quickly approaching start of your mission.

You stopped in your tracks the moment Bogard cleared his throat to get your attention, lifting your head sharply and standing at attention.

“A…at ease,” he said slowly, watching you shuffle your feet and fold your hands behind your back. “Your letter will be sent once Garp and myself return to Marineford,” he assured you. “Once you have left this ship, your own contact with the Marines will cease for a period of no less than two months, unless you are forced to make emergency contact. Emergecy contact will only be employed—”

“Under the circumstance that my own life is in immediate and unquestionable danger,” you responded immediately, to which Bogard gave a curt nod.

“Correct,” he agreed. “There will be a covert Marine presence at every island neighboring Kuraigana. Should you require rescue, the closest vessel will be able to arrive within twenty-four hours.”

“She won’t need it,” Garp chimed in through the last bite of his doughnut, and in a rare break of his iron composure, Bogard reached into one of his overcoat pockets and threw a pen at him in response. You watched as Garp caught it and used the implement to sign his name at the bottom of his paperwork before flicking it across the deck of the ship. “Have a little faith, Bogard. We have at our disposal a trained weapon of subterfuge.”

Garp wrapped his hand around the railing behind him and pulled himself to his feet, strolling over to your side and clapping you on the shoulder.

“Trained under our own supervision,” he went on proudly, while Bogard closed his eyes and heaved a slow, impatient sigh, waiting for him to go on. “Who has already provided us with more up-to-date information on the target than anyone else in our ranks—”

“—I’m still not saying your impulsive little test was anything but idiotic—”

“—and humbly declined to take credit for any of it,” Garp went on , ignoring his partner. You jolted as he gave you a sharp pat on the back. “She’ll be just fine. Won’t ya, kid?”

“I’ll—perform my duties as expected of…” You trailed off into a sigh yourself when Garp rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” you said stiffly. “I’ll be fine.”

“See? She’ll be fine.”

Garp gave a firm nod, as if your word was more than enough to affirm your fate as solid fact.

And then his brow furrowed as he stared across the deck.

His eyes narrowed into a squint, and he turned his head the slightest bit, his hand lowering from your shoulder and back to his side,

“No…that’s not…”

By the time Bogard turned his head, Garp was already striding across the deck, extending a spyglass as he leaned over the railing and stared through the scope. He gave a growl of annoyance as he held the scope out behind him for Bogard to take. Your heart raced as you slowly crossed the deck to join them, your already thin resolve faltering when Bogard slowly lowered the scope to glance at Garp.

“This changes—”

“It changes nothing,” said Garp, jerking his head to look at Bogard.

You didn’t need the spyglass to see the foggy haze around Kuraigana Island past the railing, no more than you needed it to see the small ship docked near its southern banks. You couldn’t make out much about it, but you could see the one thing that mattered—it flew a black flag.

“Red-Hair,” said Garp. “I knew he’d be trouble. I told Sengoku, I told him—”

“Why the hell would he be here?” Bogard said slowly, looking back out toward the island. He glanced behind him, and held out the spyglass for you to take. You moved to the railing between them, holding it to one eye and shutting the other to look through it at the distant ship. “There’s no chance any information has—”

“No, there isn’t,” agreed Garp, as your vision adjusted against the magnification of the lenses. You scanned over the small ship, which appeared to be empty, before lifting your head to focus on its flag—a jolly roger, decorated with a pair of crossed cutlasses and a skull with three slashes across one eye.

“Red-Haired Shanks…?” you said slowly, lowering the scope, glancing between Garp and Bogard as they stared out at the ship. “Ah—three hundred million, two hundred sixty-two thousand berry bounty.”

“Sixty-three,” corrected Bogard absently, glancing at Garp. Garp remained focused, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the ship, his grip tight around the deck railing. “Vice-Admiral.” He glanced over sharply when Bogard spoke up. “This does change—”

“It changes nothing,” Garp growled firmly.

You didn’t particularly like the way Bogard leaned over the railing, holding his hat in place as he shook his head, staring at Garp with no small degree of trepidation. Your eyes shifted to Garp when he turned around to face you, frowning down at you thoughtfully,

“Or it could change things for the better,” he said slowly, letting out a small chuckle. “Well, lass. This is your call. Seems more than just Mihawk might be docked at the island ahead of us.” You nodded shortly to show you were following, waiting for him to continued. “Not much is known about Shanks as yet…to the masses.”

“Garp—”

Garp held up a hand when Bogard tossed a warning look at him.

“—but I have on good authority that he trained under Gold Roger himself.” Your eyes widened, flickering back toward the ship in question, as Bogard let out a growl of annoyance and stormed back toward the opposite side of the deck. “This is an unexpected turn.” Your gaze shot back toward Garp as he straightened out, folding his hands behind his back and staring down at you. “We can head back toward Marineford and go through all the meticulous to-do’s of officially changing our plans, spend a few more months buried in paperwork, or—”

“I’m going.” He raised his eyebrows, his lips already twitching toward a smile at the firmness of your words. “The Red-Hair pirates would be no more aware of who I am than Mihawk. There’s no point wasting any more time.”

“No, I guess there isn’t,” he agreed, grinning. He cleared his throat, cupping a hand around his mouth and making a show of calling across the small expanse of the deck to Bogard. “You might just be able to gather us a little more intel than we expeced. Hear that, Bogard? No need to delay!”

“No need to pull a muscle patting yourself on the back, either,” Bogard grumbled, just loud enough to ensure Garp heard him.

“Alright, kid,” said Garp, happily ignoring him as he leaned against the side of the railing. “We’ve got under ten minutes, so here’s the rundown.” He turned his head, looking out toward the ship moored just off the edge of the island. “Shanks, as I said. Captain, pupil of Gold Roger himself. Primary weapon is a sabre. Straw hat, bright red hair, difficult to miss. There’s Yasopp, the first man to join his crew, at the time he was regarded as the sharpest shooter in the East Blue. Dark skin, dreadlocks, carries a pair of flintlock pistols.”

“So...that’s his first mate?”

“No.” Your brow furrowed. “That would be Beckman. Dark hair, ponytail, built like a brick shithouse. Carries a flintlock rifle. He’s a damn good shot himself but he’ll use the thing as a club in close quarters. Lucky Roux, the cook, bastard’s probably as wide as he is tall…”

You listened closely to Garp’s continued colorful descriptions of the crew officers of the Red Hair Pirates—and the potential dangers they could pose to your health should anyone discover what you really were.

“Red Hair isn’t the brightest match in the box,” he went on, “but there’s a great deal of evidence that he closely rivals Dracule Mihawk in swordsmanship. Should the two end up fighting, you keep your distance. Otherwise, be exceedingly careful around Benn Beckman. He’s the idiot’s first mate for a reason and probably accounts for ninety percent of the collective brain cells of the entire crew. You’ll have to keep a close eye on him while you keep up your act. There’s no telling why they’re docked here, and it would be in your best interest to figure it out. If they’re going to be around for a while, keep your distance.”

“I...sort of doubt any of them are ornithology experts,” you said, frowning.

“As much as one might doubt that a species of unknown primates could learn to use relatively modern weaponry.” You turned your head sharply at the sound of Bogard’s voice close behind you—you hadn’t heard him cross the deck. Your frown deepened as he gave a pointed glance at the scar spanning nearly the entire length of your right upper arm. Garp, gestured to the other Marine pointedly at his statement, and you couldn’t deny that he had a point either. “You’ll keep your distance. Fooling one pirate alone is going to be a great deal easier and safer than attempting to fool an entire crew of them.” He turned his head to Garp. “This is still the most ridiculous mission I’ve ever had the displeasure of being involved in.”

“Ah, girl’s got her act down fine,” he said dismissively—and Garp wasn’t wrong about that. Your favorite part of your training by far had been simply flying around the massive base at Marineford, taking tally of how many of the staff and officers you could fool. The only individuals privy to the exact nature of your mission were Garp and Bogard, a small selection of admirals and vice admirals, and Fleet Admiral Sengoku himself. Your performance had been enough to levy a unanimous vote to go forth with the mission. “Your persona, cadet?”

“Gray parrot, previously the pet of a pirate crew that perished in battle, therefore comfortable around pirates in general,” you said. “Able to repeat a number of sounds and phrases that might be heard aboard a ship, capable of learning new phrases and words faster than most other similar species of bird. Particular disdain for Marines and may fly into a frenzy at the sight of their vessels.”

“See?” said Garp, clapping you on the back hard enough that you flinched. “I’d say we’ve got this in the bag.”

Bogard stared between the two of you for a moment, frowning, before shaking his head. “God help us all,” he muttered under his breath, lifting a hand to rub his eyes.

The final few minutes of the voyage were spent with Garp and Bogard grilling you about the small amount of information known by the Marines about Dracule Mihawk, about the quick briefing you had just received on the Red Hair pirates, about your memorization of the den den mushi numbers you were to contact in the event that your life was in immediate danger or that you found any information useful enough to wrap the operation up early. Garp gave a resolute nod as you neared your destination, around a mile and a half off the shore of Kuraigana Island, and Bogard gave a heavy sigh and a short nod in silent agreement—no matter how little he approved, you were as ready as you were going to be.

“Alright, then, cadet,” said Garp, his wide grin a direct contrast to his partner’s pessimism. “Bird mode, activate.”

“Must you call it that?” said Bogard, tossing a weary look at Garp as you gave a quick salute and immediately shrank down into your devil fruit form on the deck. You fluttered your wings enough to hop up onto the deck railing in front of them, and Bogard frowned down at you. “Best of luck,” he offered. “Should all go according to plan, we’ll see you again in no more than two months.”

He cringed the slightest bit when you raised your wing in another salute, squawking out over Garp’s snort of laughter, “Wind in your sails!”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Garp, waving you off. “Now shoo, bird. And no getting yourself killed.”

And once more, you found yourself flying out toward Kuraigana Island.

You made a high pass over the Red Hair’s ship, squinting down toward it as you soared overhead, and the cause of their mooring near the island became quickly clear—it appeared that there was work being performed on a few sizable cannonball holes on the port side of the vessel. You were surprised to see a handful of the crew on the beach near the edge of the forest, seeming to be laughing among themselves and having a grand time, the primates that had attacked you nowhere in sight. Lucky Roux was easy enough to pick out, exactly as Garp had described him—striped shirt and tinted goggles, easily as wide as he was tall, sitting against a tree and taking a bite out of what looked like an entire leg of lamb while another crewmate assisted in bandaging his arm.

Perhaps they had had a run-in with the local apes.

You took that as enough reason to remain vigilant as you flew high over the forest, scanning the treetops below for any signs of movement. It was a relief that there seemed to be none—if the Red Hair pirates had come in contact with the violent creatures, it seemed they had managed to beat them into submission. You considered how Garp had told you that no one had ever entered the island on foot and lived to tell the tale, and it sent a shiver over your spine to think that the crew might be that formidable.

The first signs of movement you witnessed came only once you neared the castle itself, and you nearly faltered in your flight.

Your target was directly below you.

Sitting on a broken piece of stone wall in the courtyard, clad in a white shirt with a ruffled collar and a pair of black pants, his hat sitting to the side next to him, his massive sword lying across his lap as he polished the handle. You slowly, cautiously circled lower, keeping a fair distance, your eyes remaining on the pirate. His mouth seemed to be fixed in a scowl, his posture tense.

You cautiously landed in one of the castle windows several feet away, side-stepping until you were perched in the very corner of the indentation, your gray plumage a perfect camouflage against the rugged stone, and the reason for Mihawk’s clear irritation became immediately evident as the sound of a nonchalant voice tore your gaze away from him.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Hawk-Eye.”

Shanks.

Garp’s description had once again been right on the money—his stringy scarlet hair was capped by a straw-hat, his hands tucked behind his neck as he paced across a pile of rubble that might have once been a wall, a long sabre tucked into his red cloth belt at his right hip. He hopped down to the ground as you watched, resting his elbow on the hilt of the sword as he stared up at the castle. “Be a shame if something happened to it.”

He reached over with his left hand, wrapping it around the handle of the sword, and you tensed immediately, prepared to take flight as he grinned and glanced over at Mihawk.

“Divi—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, his sword extended out at arm’s length, the blade less than an inch away from Shanks’s neck, his sharp yellow eyes narrowing to threatening slits as Shanks lifted his hands up in mock-surrender, still grinning.

“Only kidding,” he said, taking a cautious step back from the edge of the black blade.

Mihawk eyed him with a venomous glare for a few seconds longer before pulling his blade back swiftly to his side and rolling his eyes, a growl of annoyance leaving him as he turned on his heel and stormed back over to the broken wall, sitting down once more. “Remind me of what the hell you’re doing here and precisely why you haven’t left yet?”

“Am I not allowed to visit my friends?” said Shanks, clutching at his chest dramatically in feigned offense. Mihawk ignored the redhead as he sat down heavily on the ground, grabbing a bottle of dark liquor propped up against the pile of rubble and working the cork loose. “Hey, it’s not my fault. This is where the Log pose pointed us. We needed to do a few repairs on the ship. Noticed your old rowboat moored nearby—”

“Rowboat,” Mihawk repeated under his breath, one of his eyes twitching the slightest bit.

“So what’s with the pissed off monkeys, anyway?” said Shanks, nodding toward the forest before taking a swig from the bottle and flicking the cork over his shoulder. “Few of them were damn near as good with a sword as you are.” Mihawk’s eyes shot toward him in a warning glare, and rolled away when Shanks gave a broad grin in response. “Train them yourself?”

“No,” he said shortly. “The humandrills were already quite capable with a variety of weapons when I arrived—”

“Aww, you named them?”

“I discovered the name among the historical documents in castle,” he said through his teeth. “It seems they learned to use weapons by watching their human neighbors before they managed to wipe themselves out. Perhaps,” he went on, before Shanks could speak up again, “your time would better be served overseeing the repairs on your ship so you can leave the moment they’re done.”

“Oh, the repairs are almost finished,” said Shanks, waving a dismissive hand. “Just waiting for the log pose to finish linking up.” He took a sip from his bottle, lifting his eyebrows. “Why? Aren’t you enjoying the company?”

“Oh, yes, immensely,” Mihawk responded dryly.

Your eyes darted between the pair of pirates amid their exchange, keeping yourself perfectly still in the stone windowsill. It was clear that Shanks, at least, was enjoying himself, and that they seemed to have some sort of history between them. It was equally clear that Mihawk would have very much preferred that his company take a long walk off the nearest short pier. He still kept his irritation in check, though whether it was out of any actual sense of camaraderie or he simply didn’t feel like wasting his energy fighting remained unclear.

Their exchange gave you an almost overwhelming sense of déjà vu, and you made a mental note to inform Garp and Bogard of it the next time you saw them.

“Oh, so grumpy,” Shanks commented, leaning back against the rubble behind him, stretching an arm out across one of his knees. “Why don’t you go take a nap, old man? I’m sure there are plenty of beds more than suited for someone of your positively regal manner.” Mihawk went on polishing the golden handle of his sword, not bothering to glance up. “Probably more than enough beds for any number of guests—”

“No,” said Mihawk coolly, still keeping his eyes turned down toward his sword.

“Oh, come on,” Shanks groaned in complaint, laying his head back. His mouth turned down into a despondent sort of pout, tilting his head to look over at the castle—and you tensed immediately, holding your breath, remaining still as a statue. “I’ve never even been in a castle before—”

“No,” Mihawk said again, louder this time, his yellow eyes fixing on Shanks with a firm gaze this time.

“You’re absolutely no fun at all,” Shanks huffed, lifting a small piece of stone from the ground and tossing it in his direction in a half-hearted manner. “You know, you’re going to die sad and alone one day in your desolate castle.”

“And what a peaceful end it will be,” said Mihawk disinterestedly, rolling his eyes back down to the sword across his lap as he buffed a rag across the gleaming blue gem at the end of the hilt.

“But not friendless,” Shanks added, completely ignoring him. He offered another broad grin. “I’ll always be your frien—”

“Would you just go away already?” Mihawksighed wearily, lifting his head and tossing the rag aside. “It’s abundantly clear what you’re attempting to do, and it isn’t going to work.”

“Oh, and just what am I trying to do?” said Shanks...and he seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, before adding in a cheeky tone, “...friend?”

“You’re fishing for a fight,” said Mihawk, gritting his teeth, briefly gripping the handle of his sword before releasing it from his grasp. “And I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh come. On,” Shanks groaned once more, leaning back heavily and pouting. “I’m bored. There’s literally nothing on this damned island except a pile of rocks and a bunch of trees and a particularly nice castle—”

“No.” Shanks gave a huff of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Mihawk. “Go off and play with the other monkeys if you’re so damned bored.”

“They’re already afraid of me,” he huffed, pouting like a child. He brushed a few unruly strands of hair away from his eyes, turning his gaze out toward the forest. “Stupid apes.” Mihawk only rolled his eyes, shook his head, and returned to the idle task of sword maintenance. “I’m frankly surprised you didn’t just slaughter all of them the moment you set foot here.”

“They make for a decent security system,” he said levelly.

“Or you’re secretly just a big softie—”

Shanks straightened out and gave another broad grin when Mihawk tossed a sharp glare at him...and then slumped back down in defeat when his supposed “friend” gave a heavy sigh and turned his attention back to his sword.

It went on this way for some time—Shanks continually poking and prodding, attempting to annoy Mihawk enough to coax him into a fight; and Mihawk persisting in the task of sword maintenance, running a whetstone across the already razor-sharp edge of the blade as he fought to keep his composure. The entire spectacle was rather like watching an excitable puppy yip at a surly cat.

You shifted your gaze to the edge of the nearby forest when Shanks looked over, the young captain waving once the rustling of the dense leaves gave way to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black shirt, picking leaves out of his ponytail—no doubt Benn Beckman, from the description Garp had offered you. There was indeed a large rifle slung back across one of his shoulders, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He glanced toward Mihawk, before stopping just short of his captain, looking down at him.

“Repairs are finished and the Log Pose’s set,” he said, his brow furrowing when Shanks frowned in clear disappointment. “We getting off of this rock or are you still antagonizing the current inhabitants?”

“I am visiting with a dear old friend,” said Shanks, giving an indignant huff and crossing his arms. He rolled his eyes back over to Mihawk. “Isn’t that right, Hawkie—?”

“Call me that again and you’ll be leaving this island wearing your entrails as necklace,” said Mihawk coolly.

“See?” said Shanks, gesturing toward Mihawk. “We’re just catching up on old times.”

Beckman stared down at his captain for a long moment, frowning, his cigarette smoldering at the corner of his mouth. He finally shook his head and stepped back a couple paces, leaning back against a pile of stones and crossing his arms. “Alright,” he said. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I am,” Shanks assured him with a positively gleeful grin. He rolled his shoulders and took a drink from the bottle of liquor clenched in his hand, his eyes drifting back over to Mihawk. “Well, it seems our all too pleasant reunion may be drawing to a close, Hawkie—”

Shanks’s grin only widened when Mihawk lifted his gaze to glare at him, his hand gripping tighter around the whetstone.

Shanks seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, pursing his lips to suppress his growing amusement at Mihawk’s growing annoyance, before his expression spread back into a grin as he lifted his eyebrows.

“How about a little kiss goodbye—y’know, between friends and all—”

“That’s it—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, tossing the whetstone away.

Shanks was on his feet just as quickly, a look of absolute glee brightening his features as he drew his sabre.

Beckman took a few casual steps off to the side, pulling his cigarette down from his lips to flick the ashes away, shaking his head, his hand tightening around the butt of his rifle almost imperceptibly.

And you, in spite of yourself, let out a tiny squawk of alarm at the entire spectacle...and quickly realized your mistake.

While Mihawk surged forward with his blade drawn, while Beckman kept his sharp eyes flickering between him and his captain, Shanks’s gaze flickered over toward the sound you had just let out.

And his eyes widened the slightest bit as his eyes met yours.

And he lifted his sword to block what would have been a deadly blow from Mihawk as he continued staring at you as you froze in the windowsill, your feathers ruffling out the slightest bit in response to the terror dawning over you.

Beckman also followed his captain’s gaze, lifting an eyebrow as he noticed your presence.

Shanks drew in a sharp breath, his eyes growing even wider, wide as the eyes of a child with a bottomless wallet in a candy shop. One single, almost breathless word left his lips as they spread into a delighted smile:

“Parrot.”

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

First chapter link again, for your convenience

[marilynthornhilllover]

Hi! Can I have a request on "mommy!marilyn x Reader"? like when Marilyn teaches reader how to drive but R messed up and Marilyn get angry and decided to spank r at the back at the car trunk and f***k r until r know what she did was wrong? (NFSW, spanking, and strap-on)

Kinktober fanfic #1

Was it casual then?

Mommy Marilyn T. X Fem!Reader

Warning: NSFW smut, praise kink, degradation kink, mommy kink, spanking, use of strap, fingering, jealousy,cliffhanger, moms friend, etc.

The bell rang announcing the end of another boring school day. As students rushed out of their class rooms and into the hallway to exit the building you could feel the relief of not having to worry about anymore crazy assignments and the urge towards wanting to punch people’s children because they weren’t pulling their weight in group projects creeping in. You walked quickly towards your locker to empty your book bag, you had plans for tonight and you didn’t want anything holding you back.

“ hey girl, you’re coming to the new club downtown tonight right?” You may have turned around too quickly because you swore you just gave yourself a huge whiplash, but no way on gods green earth was the ‘Rebecca o’olva’ talking to you right now. She was like the Beyoncé of the school and in her world you had to look a certain way in order for her to even acknowledge your entire existence. But anyways there she stood looking gorgeous as always, short dark blue denim shirt with a cute star hemming style, a fuzzy cropped zipper sweater and of course her minions standing behind her like she was their military patrol officer.

Becca was cool. you weren’t allowed to call her that aloud, her group would probably punch the shit out of you if you tried to get too friendly. She wasn’t mean though, just a ‘shy trying to maintain good grades because I come from a uptight family full of assholes that are rich self maker’s who would burn the world to crisps if I didn’t become a millionaire too kinda girl’.Though sometimes she didn’t mind lavishing herself in the wealth and acting like a spoiled brat.

“ oh— uh—I hi?” You said awkwardly, her crystal blue eyes tore you apart as she stood there grinning at you. Her friends giggled but immediately stopped when she turned to flash them look with a not so kind face. Rebecca took a small step closer to you and smirked.

“ you must be y/n. You know me already but anyways there’s a new club that’s opening tonight and everyone’s going” yeah no shit cause your inviting them, but by all needs carry on. “ and I wanted to know if you’re interested in tagging along because I’m one of the host” she finally said with a victory smile as if she won the lottery, well she kinda already did. Well… her family did.

You stood there as stiff as stage four rigga morris. You blinked a few times maybe trying to analyze maybe if you had zoned out or maybe was daydreaming and needed to come back to reality but she was still there with that goddamn hideous creepy Halloween coded smile on her face. And her friends sharp eyes weren’t helping your nerves to cool down . And then you decided to do something even more stupid and life threatening.

“ sorry but I don’t drink alcohol and I already had plans for the weekend with my friends so with all due respect Beyoncé I think I’ll p—“ before you could finish your sentence her four friends corner you and push you back hard against the cold metal of your locker. You winced and tried to seem as tough as possible by standing back up but a Barbie looking one with wet lashes and overlapping Matted lipstick pulled you closer to her by your collar.

“ listen here doormat, she’s kind but we’re not so you better take up the offer” she whispered eerily.

“ and we better see you there” another muttered. You involuntarily nodded and in a sharp instant she released you. Rebecca was still fucking smiling at you but then they all took off laughing. These crazy fucking bitches. You proceeded to quickly empty your bag, deciding to just leave the entire bag in the damn locker since you didn’t have any homework to worry about and school doesn’t reopen til Tuesday so you had time to come back for something just in case . Walking briskly out of the empty halls you waved goodbye to the elderly janitor Mrs. Hanson on your way out.

You sighed as you felt the cool air pressed across your skin and the warm afternoon sun as it escalated down your face and body areas. All the busses were long gone, with the last one pulling out of the drive and taking off into the distance. You sighed again but this time one of stress and agony. You looked around the parking lot and suddenly your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide. Standing not far out was your mom’s best friend. Not the weird old ugly ones that asked you weird questions, hot and steamy mommy coded Marilyn thornhill.

Marilyn always thought you were a rude rebellious teenager when you were younger but it was just you trying to hide your feelings from her. And soon eventually she caught on. There were times in the past when she would tease you, get under your skin. Push you past your comfort zone in more ways imaginable. And you loved it, you neeeded it, you craved it like a drug. You two had a little fling, she was your first and then she just left town and you never say her in the light of day again. So seeing her here now was like seeing a past lover, like the crazy teary scenes in the movies.

Except your heart was going 100mph and your private region suddenly grew a heart beat making you swallow thickly. And you could feel the saliva go all the way down there and soon enough you were becoming insatiably wet.

“ come here baby” you heard her say, leaning against the hood of her car with her legs crossed she took an inhale of her cigarette before it got lost under her boot on the ground. You felt a familiar shiver that only she made you feel. You knew how these interactions ended but your feet betrayed you and you started taking slow strides towards her. And the closer you got the more the temptation of what could happen, what has happened seemed soul demanding.

When walked closer to her you made sure to maintain a perfect gap space in case you needed to run away from her. Far away from her destruction that you so desperately craved. But sensing your hesitation Marilyn smirked and chuckled softly under her breath and in one swift motion captured her lips with yours by using your tie to pull you closer towards her. Your lips fought against each other in a slow passionate fight at first, just feeling each other closer then Marilyn became hungry. She bit down on your lips which caused you to moan as she used the opportunity to push her tongue pass your lips gate.

She wrapped the tie around her hand more tightly pulling you onto her even more. Being so flush against her again did things to you. You felt hot and desperate. Her body heat, her perfume a mix of lavender and something dark and citrus like. Something dangerous, like her. Your nipples slowly awakened themselves to the new found intimacy and a desire that raged war in you. Marilyn’s tongue fought against yours in a war of dominance and obviously she won leading you to just submitting to her, as your chest flattened and your body went limp against hers.

Marilyn smiled against your lips before she pulled away, wiping away any salvia trails that may have connected both your lips like a bridge. She looked down at you and you squirmed under her gaze. She chuckled and gave you a quick peck on your forehead.

“ well hello to you too, my love” she whispered against your lips before they connected with yours again and you had to push her off you before her thoughts got the better of her and she couldn’t control herself.

“ stop it Mari, there’s still staff members here.” You told her and she straightened up, fixing her posture. She looked at you with those ‘ I don’t give two fucks eyes I literally fucked you in your mom’s bedroom when she was cooking’ eyes but she stopped because she respected your boundaries and your body.

“ nice car” you finally said after fixing your clothes and putting a few inches between the both of you so pass byers wouldn’t have rumors to spread.

“ thanks it’s s yours” she said looking at the car then back at you, you laughed for a moment shaking your head at her joke before you realized that she wasn’t joking. Your eyes widen and you felt your feet betray you once more because all of a sudden you start jumping like a like kid who just got told that they were officially going to see Santa. You wrapped your arms around her neck and began kissing her all over her face, the older woman chuckled at your childish behavior and wrapped her arms around your waist pulling your closer.

“ but I can’t even drive yet” she must have saw the disappointment in your eyes because she squeezed your sides tighter forcing you to look at her.

“ I’ll teach you darling, maybe we can even test it out to see if it’s fuckable in” she said whispering the last part, you rolled your eyes and swatted her chest.

“ your hopeless you know that” she chuckled and lead you to the car, not just any car by the way a BMW M8 competition. You loved having a hot milf mommy that’s smoking rich.

——————————-

“ fucking damn it y/n what’s so hard in just putting your goddamn foot on the pedal” Marilyn was starting to piss you off, she had taken you out on some abandoned racing track in the middle of nowhere to practice you on driving and yelled at you every fucking time you messed up. You rolled your eyes and sighed. You looked over at her who was staring daggers at you as her breathing elaborated more and more each time she inhaled. It was like she was the big bad wolf in the three little pigs story.

“ are you fucking stupid or deaf? Put your fucking foot on the pedal!” She shouted more sternly this time, her tone taking no softness. She was angry but so the fuck were you.

“ you know what Marilyn fuck you , how about you take your car and shove it up your ass if you’d like” you opened the door and got out slamming the door after. You heard her grunt as she got out too but you didn’t pay much attention to her as you made your way around the car. You didn’t even know where you were going, there’s no where to go. You were in the middle of no where and she was your only was back to civilization. Before you could process it all you felt a firm grip in your hair as your body got slammed onto the cold surface of the car trunk.

You groaned in slight pain as you turned your head to the side to stare at the culprit. Marilyn’s grip remained in your hair and her other non occupied hand bunched up your platted skirt around your hips and in one swift motion pulled down your panties til they fell around your ankles. You couldn’t lie, something about being in the middle of nowhere all alone with Marilyn made your insides churn and your pussy pulse. Flash backs of you riding her cock at your friends party in her bedroom closet to sucking her off at a birthday party, to her pounding into your pussy out in a dressing room and yes of course the first time she made you cum on your moms bed when she was cooking.

All the memories came back. And this would fit perfectly to the list. You were already completely soaking, probably dripping just for her.

“ you fucking whore, all mommy wanted to do was surprise her baby and teach her how to drive but now mommy got put someone in their place” she whispered against the skin of your neck, her hot breath making you tremble under her hold. She yanked your hair making you prop yourself up onto your elbow. Her hand rested onto your lower back carefully arching your back for you and you complied. Marilyn stared at your ass cheeks for a moment, your round curvy ass bent back, all for her. She couldn’t help but bring her hand to the flesh fumbling with it before a hard swat came down causing you to cry out at the unexpectedness.

She felt you shiver against her and did it again. You whimpered and tried to lay down to give yourself some comfort but she held you up. Tears pricked at your eyes and the wind blowing in your face made it worst.

“ god i missed you baby” she muttered under her breath mostly to herself but you heard and it only turned you on more. She spanked your ass again and the pain slowly started mixing with the pleasure allowing a moan to coarse through your throat and out of your mouth. Marilyn smirked to herself and did it again this time for harshly, making the sore and redden flesh jiggle. You let out a more choked moan this time and she chuckled darkly.

“ yeah moan just like that for mommy” she let lose of your hair and grabbed the underneath of your neck forcing your head backwards to look at her. “ I wanna hear you fucking scream while I milk that pussy like the olden days” she used her forearm to push you against the hood of the car.

“ suck” she spat roughly as she shoved two fingers into your mouth, you gave her digits a few sucks seductively taking your time to draw out slow swirls across her knuckles before she pulled them from your mouth. She thrusted three digits into you in one swift motion causing your eyes to roll back completely. A grutal moan escaped from your mouth and it was a good thing that you both were in a secluded place or maybe the both of you would have been on the news…..

Marilyn’s pace was detrimental. She kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear as her fingers rutted deep inside of you with no mercy. Your nails scratched the hood of the car as a familiar pressure from deep within your stomach started to come back.

“ there she is, i can feel you clenching baby girl, go ahead and let go for mommy” she whispered against your ear, she placed a soft lingering kiss behind your earlobe, your back arched when you felt her cross curl her fingers deep within you as she increased her pace. It was only a matter of time before you came on her fingers with a loud cry. Marilyn smirked to herself and slid her fingers out of you. She gently licked the juices off her fingers while she watched you squirm before the wave of your orgasm. Your breathing was shallow and rigid as you tried to keep it under control and brace yourself for whatever was to come next.

You could hear Marilyn unbuttoning her pants, looking over your shoulder you see her slide her pants down to her ankles before her gaze met yours. What really caught your eye’s attention what the huge purple strap that was attached to her waist ready to absolutely destroy you to pieces. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at the strap and then back up at her, she had the most devilish grin imaginable and you knew her intentions. Marilyn wasted no time as she spread your legs apart, placing one of them up on the car’s bumper giving herself a better access to your cunt. You heard her spit on the strap before quickly dragging her hand up and down her length.

She wasted no time and inserted her cock into you. Your head fell against the car and your back arched. Marilyn held the flesh under your thigh as her hips bottomed out inside you. You felt so full of her. Her cock was pressing against the spongy spot inside you and it felt so fucking good. You missed her and her dick so bad you wished she had a real one. Marilyn withdrew her hips slowly as she watched in awe as your juices coated her length. She grabbed a fist full of your hair pulling you back against her chest as she slowly began thrusting.

“ oh god please—“ your sentence was cut of by a soft moan that was quickly followed by a whimper as Marilyn increased her pace.

“ you stubborn girl, can’t follow simple driving instructions but you sure can take dick” she spat with a small chuckle causing you to whine. Her praises and dirty talk will soon have you spurting to the edge and you didn’t wanna be seen as a slut. But you wouldn’t just be anyone’s slut. You’ll be her slut. And right now, with her cock buried deep within you and her tight grip in your hair you didn’t mind at all. Marilyn released her hold on your hair and used her hands to toy with your nipples. You cursed out a shallow moan and cried. Marilyn laughed mockingly and twisted your nipples between her fingers.

She looked down at where your cunt and her cock was connected and bit her hips before she too released a soft moan of her own.

“ fucking pussy so good” she whispered under her breath. She watched as your pussy pulsed and creamed on her length, sucking in a breath she grabbed your hair again.

“ you gonna fucking cum again? Mhmh? Fucking whore mommy treats this pussy too nice huh?” She tutted as her hips found a new speed now pounding your guts fast and deep, she curved her hips in an angle that made her tip bend against that sweet point deep within you. Watching as your eyes roll back and your legs tremble she spanks your ass cheek and runs her hand down your spine before slipping it around infront to play with your small bud.

“ fuck I—OH GOD MARILYN PLEASE—“ you croaked out, panting you reached your hand around and gently placed it on her abdomen in attempt to slow her hips but she was unstoppable. Your body fell limp against the car as you laid there and took her dick with grace.

“ fuck yes, take it baby, fucking take my cock, your gonna look at me and cum on my dick, fucking look at me” she said firmly going even deeper as her hips rocked faster within you. The sound of her cock moving in and out of you and your moans, the way she was speaking to you and her hands roaming your body and playing with you clit at some point it all became too much and you obeyed her. Turning your head to the side your gaze met hers in a pleading attempt to which it fell on deaf ears. Her pace was brutal and her thrusts were snapping sharp.

“Mary—I can’t—fuck I” she knew what you wanted to say, and she felt it. She leaned down and connected her lips with yours as you neared your edge. In one swift motion she deepened the arch in your back which allowed her strap to be driven even deeper into your cunt and that was it. Your body spammed as your cunt clenched down hard on her cock. You felt your juices release on her cock as you shuttered. You were completely out of breath and tired. But god did you wanna go again. You forgot just how good Marilyn has made you fell, can make you feel. And man did you love it. You turned around and sat up properly on the cars trunk and looked at her.

Her eyebrows quirked and she smirked at you. She kissed you softly but soon it transformed into something rough and passionate. She gently pushed you down back against the trunk and opened your legs to where disaster just occurred, to the mess she just caused you to make.

“ I wanna taste you now…..”

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Ten

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.

WC: 6.3k

CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off

AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby

It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 

But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 

You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 

Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 

You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 

“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 

“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 

“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 

At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 

You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 

But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 

But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 

Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 

You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 

“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 

You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 

You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 

So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 

The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 

“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 

Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 

He was everything. He was wonderful. 

“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 

“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 

But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 

“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.

One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 

The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 

Your entire body sagged with relief. 

So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 

As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 

A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 

You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 

It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 

It could’ve been a crown. 

“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 

You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 

But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 

The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 

You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 

Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-

“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 

You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 

And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 

But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 

The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 

At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 

But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 

You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 

You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 

A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 

But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 

But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 

You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 

But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 

The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 

Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 

You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 

You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 

But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 

But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 

“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 

None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 

Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 

Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 

“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 

“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 

Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 

Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 

It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 

But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 

It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 

“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 

You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 

And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 

Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 

Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 

“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 

San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 

With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 

Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 

Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 

The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 

Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 

If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 

It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 

He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 

He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 

You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  

Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 

You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 

But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 

It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 

Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 

Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 

But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 

As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 

Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 

You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 

Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 

By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 

You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 

But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 

But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 

You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 

But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.

In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 

All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 

You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 

Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 

Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 

The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 

You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 

Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 

“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 

Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 

You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 

“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 

Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 

“Thank you too, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 

But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 

But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 

You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 

After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 

Your heart cracked again. 

Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 

Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 

“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 

“Just open it, please!” 

With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 

“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 

“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 

You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 

But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 

Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 

“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 

“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 

You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 

“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 

“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 

He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 

“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 

“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 

You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 

Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 

Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 

You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 

It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 

“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 

“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 

“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 

Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 

“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.

“Them?”

“Yes, them, now go look!” 

Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 

And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 

Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 

Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 

So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 

And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 

The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 

“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 

It cracked your heart all over again. 

With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 

You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 

How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 

But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 

But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 

You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 

But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 

Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 

But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 

“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 

You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 

In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 

You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 

It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 

A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 

The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 

Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 

“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 

Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 

“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 

“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 

But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 

It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 

You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 

But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 

If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 

And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 

There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 

When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 

You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 

The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 

But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 

“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 

Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 

The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 

But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 

It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 

But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 

An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 

Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 

Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 

“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 

“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 

“Be safe, nae sarang.” 

“I will, Eomma.” 

They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 

It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 

You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 

It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 

But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 

As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 

The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 

You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 

“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 

“I will. You too.” 

Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 

You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 

Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 

But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[frosted-hyacinth]

When you have have a bad day

Feat. reo mikage Tags. fluff cw. none, probably... (if there are any, please let me know)

       Reo opened the door to the apartment after some more boring time with his dad teaching him about the Mikage corporation and what he should do when he one day inherits it. Nothing important. Nothing even different than his usual day. Something that was different however, was that usually, you would have heard the sounds of the door opening and came to welcome him home, giving him a kiss. His inner lover part of him told him that something felt off, so he quickly took off his jacket and ran to your shared room. The door was open so he walked right in and was greeted by a sight of you in a blanket burrito and some muffled noises coming from your mouth that happened to be covered by the blanket. You realised that any sound you made wouldn't be heard clearly by your lover so you squirmed your hand to move the section of fabric that covered your mouth.         "Come. Cuddles." You said looking at him with pleading eyes, something that he couldn't ever say no to. Not that he'd even be thinking of depriving you of your cuddles, he needed them to recharge after a long day after all, just like you. He headed towards the bed, but while walking, he muttered something under his breath. Something about getting a new blanket for you, one that you could speak to him with more easily if you decided to turn into a burrito again. As he reached the bed, you rolled out of the blanket, allowing him to slide in with ease, hands wrapped around you. He leaned his head forwards, both your foreheads now touching. You had a look of unease in your eyes, and with just that, he knew that something was wrong.         "Come on, tell me." He said, eyes still directly looking into yours, you tilted your head in confusion.         "Tell me what's bothering you." "What do you mean?" You said, eyes now breaking the intense eye contact, something the Reo noticed which further proved his suspicions of something going on. "Darling, tell me. I know when something's wrong." Your eyes looked down "I just had a bad day." "What happened?" "I..." You paused, searching for the right words to phase this “In the morning, I went out and tripped on a rock, I fell. And then after I went back home but then fell down the stairs, then I went to our room and I fell off the chair. Then I hit my head. On something.” Reo looked at you concerned, his brows furrowing “Are you alright?” He asked, mentally hoping that you didn’t concuss yourself during one of your falls “Do you need anything?” “No… But stay here. I’m cold and my head hurts after falling so many times. I don’t think anything major happened though…” Reo noped “We can cuddle but not too long, we should go to the hospital and get you checked.” “I-” “We need to make sure that you’re alright. That you didn’t get a concussion today.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“I don’t want to get out of beddd, pleaseeee, Reooo” You whined, latching your one remaining arm onto the bed, the other arm being pulled by Reo, dragging you off the bed. Your fingers slowly slipped off the bed and your body slid off the warm, comfortable bed and out of the fluffy blanket you had been laying in for the past hour, he picked you up and put you comfortably in his arms. He walked to the car then drove to the hospital, proceeding to carry you in the hospital then paying a large sum of money to get you a concussion check. Something you gladly talked him out of and got him to wait the line even though you really just tried to get him to drive you back home into the comfort of your house. 

Sure you didn’t necessarily love having to get dragged out of bed to go to the hospital for concussion checks but you still loved Reo and that was all that mattered.

- i want to adopt soft reo, ✰ he would like hug you after a bad day and like spoil u with love and his money, not even just after a bad day but just in general, 映  - this is still kind of short but i like this so its fine

[cecilysass]

Oblivious (1/1)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder had not been convinced that drinks with Bambi and Dr. Ivanov was a good idea, but Scully seemed to enjoy it. She and Bambi shared one side of the table and became so engrossed in conversation that Mulder had to reach across and touch Scully’s wrist to get her attention. She was even content to stay and have a second glass of wine with Mulder after their two companions left.

“They didn’t leave together, did they?” Mulder wondered morbidly, craning his neck in an attempt to see Dr. Ivanov’s retreating chair.

“Mulder,” Scully said with a fond smile, “no. Bambi wasn’t interested in him in that way after all.”

“Oh?” Mulder said, arching his eyebrows. “And how do you know that, Scully?”

Scully shrugged. “It came up.”

“Really?” Mulder leaned forward on the table. “How did it come up? What were you talking about?”

“Mulder,” Scully said in warning.

“She told you she wasn’t into Dr. Ivanov?”

“Well, not Dr. Ivanov per se,” Scully said. “It came up that she wasn’t interested in dating men.”

Mulder’s mouth fell open for a moment, and then he discreetly closed it. He folded his hands in front of him on the table with calm decorum. “I see that I really should have been sitting on that side of the table.”

“We were talking mostly about our work,” Scully said defensively.

“So … how did her sexuality come up, exactly?”

Scully’s cheeks turned pink. “We were talking about there not being as many women in the sciences. She mentioned it was difficult in terms of dating women exclusively. Difficult to meet people.”

“Hold on. Wait.” Mulder made a show of scooting forward in his seat as far as he could. “Scully. You’re in the sciences.”

Scully shot him a disdainful look and sipped her wine.

“Did she hit on you?”

“No,” Scully scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. We were talking about work.”

“Did she give you her number?”

“Yes, but only so we could have dinner sometime if I’m in the area.”

Mulder’s mouth fell open again in deadpan disbelief, and Scully squirmed in her seat, visibly flustered.

“That’s not hitting on me, Mulder. Being attracted to women doesn’t mean you’re attracted to every woman.”

“Scully, you may be surprised to learn that I actually have experience being attracted to women,” Mulder said. He drummed his fingers on the table a second and bit his lip. “So … are you going to have dinner with her?”

Scully eyed him suspiciously. “Mulder.”

“What will you wear?”

She treated him to an unamused glare.

“Come on, I’m asking innocent questions.”

“I’ve seen those tapes that aren’t yours, Mulder. I think they’ve skewed your perception of relationships women might have with other women.”

“You’ve seen those tapes that aren’t mine?”

“Don’t you have one about amorous scientists specifically? Ph Double Ds or something like that?”

Mulder cleared his throat. “Scientist porn is a common genre,” he said. He eyed her slyly. “Actually, you might want to watch a little to prepare for your dinner date.”

Scully downed the rest of her glass of wine in a huff.

“Aw, come on.” He changed directions, smiling winningly. “Don’t take me so seriously. I’m just jealous. I’ve been trying to get her attention, and here you sail in effortlessly and win her over.”

“I don’t think that’s what happened, but I’m sorry to spoil your erotic fantasies regardless, Mulder.”

“Trust me, Scully. This conversation has not spoiled my erotic fantasies in the slightest.”

Her eyes narrowed, and Mulder wondered if he’d pushed it too far. Maybe it was crossing a line to allude directly to her being featured in his sexual fantasies like that.

But her tone was changing. “I’m sorry, really, Mulder,” she said, softening. “I do think she’s a nice woman, and she’s smart and beautiful. I see why you’d like her. I wish you could have dated her.”

“Thank you,” he said, taken aback. He wasn’t sure what to say in response to that, so he found himself shifting uneasily. “Do you want another glass?”

She stared at her empty wine glass contemplatively.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Mulder said. He gestured to the waiter across the room, pointing at Scully’s glass and his own.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Scully?”

“About what?” Her sideways look was suspicious.

“I have a theory about you,” Mulder ventured. “Call it a profiler’s hunch.”

“What comes out of your mouth next could not possibly be complimentary.”

“My theory is that you’re one of those people who’s oblivious to when someone has romantic interest in you. That you never know when someone is hitting on you. That this isn’t the first time. Would you say that’s true?”

“No,” she said definitively. “And I told you, she wasn’t hitting on me.”

“But see, you wouldn’t know. That’s the whole point.”

“I consider myself a fairly perceptive person.”

“Let me ask you this,” Mulder continued, aware now of the jagged little edge of the alcohol in his system. “Why do you think Skip the IT guy hangs around to talk to us in the basement for so long? And why do you think Caroline in requisitions is so nice to us?”

“If you’re implying that it’s because they’re interested in me, I reject that interpretation,” Scully said indignantly. “Personally, I think it’s simply because I’m nice to them. Being civil goes a long way.”

“Come on,” Mulder groaned. “Skip tries to see down your shirt almost every time he’s down there. And he’s made about a thousand thinly veiled references to getting drinks after work.”

“Maybe,” Scully said skeptically. “But Caroline?”

“She gets all tongue-tied when you walk in.”

“When we walk in,” Scully pointed out. “Maybe it’s you who’s having that effect. That’s not exactly an unknown phenomenon.”

“Noooo,” Mulder said emphatically, shaking his head. “She stares at you. Like you’re a beautiful statue. Like this.” He demonstrated by putting his chin on his hands and gazing at Scully, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly.

Scully rolled her eyes. “Ridiculous, Mulder. If she did that, I would notice.”

“You’re proving my point left and right here, Scully.”

Scully scoffed, taking the new glass of Syrah the waitress handed her. Mulder accepted another beer.

“Admit it,” Mulder said. “In your past there’s a pattern of friends and acquaintances who unexpectedly confessed feelings to you, shocking you beyond measure because you never saw it coming.”

Scully sipped her wine. “Come on. Doesn’t that happen to everyone?”

“No.” Mulder began to laugh. “It absolutely doesn’t.”

“It’s never happened to you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Mulder said, amused. “But I wouldn’t say it was a pattern.”

Scully’s face was flushed just in the apples of her cheeks: the effect, Mulder assumed, of the wine. “That seems very hard to believe,” she said flippantly. “That you’ve inspired so few declarations of secret love, being … I don’t know, the way that you are.”

Mulder’s eyebrows shot up in delight. “Whoa ho, the way that I am? Thank you, I think.”

Scully waved her hand dismissively.

“It only happened to me once that I recall,” Mulder said. “A classmate at Quantico.”

Scully waited for a moment, but he didn’t elaborate.

“How often has it happened to you, Scully?” Mulder asked.

“A few times,” she allowed with a little shrug.

“Give me an example.”

“Mulder, I don’t know…” she groaned.

“Okay, who was the first?”

Sighing, she put her chin in her hand and considered. “Probably tenth grade,” she said. “My debate partner Phil Costello.”

Mulder smiled. “Ah, Phil.”

“He was very serious. Very competitive.” Scully took a generous gulp of wine. “And then one day, he’s stammering and not meeting my eye and asking me to go mini-golfing.”

“Mini-golfing,” Mulder said. “Classic.”

“But mini-golfing doesn’t necessarily imply a date,” Scully said. “I was watching Charlie that afternoon, so I brought him along.”

“Oh no,” Mulder said. He winced and shook his head. “Oh Scully.”

“And I later gathered from friends that I hurt Phil’s feelings,” Scully sighed, swirling her glass slightly.

Mulder thumped his hand on the table triumphantly. “Exactly. Phil had probably been putting the teen moves on you for months.”

“I would argue that story isn’t an example of me being especially oblivious,” Scully said. “I’d argue that it was an example of both of us being adolescents and not skilled at communication. Phil didn’t make the situation entirely clear either.”

“Let’s change the question then,” Mulder suggested. “How often would you say you get hit on?”

“At this stage in my life?” Scully said. “Almost never.”

Mulder rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Why don’t you believe that? What makes you such an expert on this, Mulder?”

“Let’s look at this objectively, like scientists.” He took another large swig of beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a young woman, at your sexual peak, extremely attractive, in a male-dominated profession, constantly surrounded by men. Looking at it from the outside, doesn’t it seem implausible to you that you would never be hit on? Isn’t the most likely explanation that you’re just not someone who notices?”

Scully didn’t say anything in response, just held her wine glass and stared at him, her face impassive.

“I assume I convinced you?” he said triumphantly.

“I think I’m not hit on as much any more,” she said with precision, “because I’m almost always with you.”

He scowled, and his eyes scanned the rest of the bar for a moment. There were other people there: couples having drinks, some kind of birthday party in the corner, and a group of apparently single men at the bar having an extended happy hour. They were thirtysomething, wore suits, had been joking around all evening. None of them were especially looking towards Scully, at least not after a quick glance. That did seem strange to Mulder. Why would guys like that miss checking out a pretty woman? Why wouldn’t someone try to make an approach? Then again, what’s the point of hitting on a woman who’s already sitting at a table with someone?

“Hmm,” he said. “I admit, that’s an interesting consideration.”

“Do you get hit on a lot, Mulder?”

He looked at her, surprised. “No,” he said. “But that’s different.”

“How?” Scully asked.

“I’m a little more of an acquired taste,” Mulder said modestly.

Scully startled him by bursting into loud, unrestrained laughter. She threw her head forward as she laughed and let her hair spill over her face as she lifted it back up.

“What?” he said, self-conscious.

“An acquired taste?” she said, still laughing. “What does that mean? Since when is being tall and good-looking an acquired taste? You’re the kind of man single women in bars … dare one another to approach.”

Mulder’s eyebrows shot right into his hairline this time. “Oooh, tell me more, please,” he said, licking his lips. “Would you approach me in a bar?”

“Of course not,” she said dryly. “I know you, and your personality works against the good looks.”

It was a joke. Obviously. She didn’t mean anything by it. But it happened that he’d heard that exact critique from women before, that it was something held to be true about Fox Mulder. Hearing it from Scully—from the lips of his partner, who these days knew him better than anyone else—just really stung. It hurt so immediately he couldn’t quite hide his reaction as it flickered across his face.

“See? An acquired taste,” he said, quickly trying to play it off. “And some people never acquire it.”

She already had a stricken expression. “Mulder,” she said, soft regret in her words. “I was only kidding.”

“Come on,” he said with a smile. “I know. We have to be able to joke about our own flaws.”

“No,” she said, looking down at the table. “No, it was a thoughtless thing to say. I’m sorry. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your personality.”

“I think we both know that’s not entirely true, Scully.” She wasn’t meeting his eyes, still looking at her hands on the table. “There’s a reason they call me Spooky and keep me alone in the basement. There’s a reason I’ve been single for years. Something’s broken, right?” He tapped his temple playfully. “I know it as well as anyone.”

She raised her clear blue eyes to meet his and surprised him by grabbing his wrist.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Mulder,” she repeated urgently. “You could be working anywhere in the F.B.I.. You could be dating anyone you wanted. You just chose another path. You did that because there’s something whole about you, not something broken.”

He stared back into those shockingly blue eyes, moved, not sure what to say in response. He thought about how many times he called Scully on this case, how she drove all the way up to help him, how no one on earth seemed as accepting of his quirks and faults as she was. She was the best friend he’d ever had. No one else was even close.

“I shouldn’t say things like that even as a joke,” she said, her fingers still enclosed around his wrist. “And I shouldn’t get annoyed when you have the occasional flirtation on the job. You deserve to have that.”

“Annoyed?” Mulder repeated. “When were you annoyed?”

She shook her head. “Not important.”

“On this case? By what? By Bambi?”

She smiled a tiny, tolerant smile and withdrew her hand, leaning back on her chair. “Besides, Mulder,” she said, “you may have noticed that they don’t keep you all alone in the basement anymore.”

He smiled slowly, examining his beer glass. “Yeah,” he said. “I did notice.”

They didn’t speak for a moment.

“Anyway, I’ll try to pay more attention,” she said, returning to their previous topic of conversation. “To see if I think you’re right that I’m constantly the object of desire.”

“Obviously I’m right,” he said with a sigh.

“It’s a flattering idea, I guess,” she said. She seemed to immediately regret her words, looking down in embarrassment.

“Yeah, of course,” Mulder said encouragingly. “But you should enjoy it, Scully. You should go out with female friends sometime, go to a bar, let the guys have a chance to talk to you. I bet you haven’t done that for a while.”

Scully shook her head, her cheeks actually turning darker pink. “You’re right. I haven’t.”

She was quiet again, and he tried to imagine Scully actually acting on his suggestion. Maybe talking to some guy at a club—some guy with an ordinary job, a loosened tie, and an empty smile like those men drinking over there at the bar. He knew she deserved this kind of flirtation and fun, but he found, to his ashamed surprise, that he hated the idea.

“I don’t think I will, though,” she said, picking up her glass again. She looked at him over the rim. “That’s not where my head is these days.”

“Yeah,” he said. He immediately pictured their office, his view of her leaning over her work, her hair and a pencil tucked behind her ear, her expression serious and intent. “I know what you mean.”

She sipped the last dregs of her wine as they looked at one another. As he met her eyes, Mulder reminded himself the partnership might not last forever. Most likely, she would answer his calls and do his autopsies right up until the day her head was somewhere else.

“Probably time for us to go,” she said. She smiled and gave him a playfully stern look. “We need to get back to D.C. tomorrow and try to write up your killer cockroach case in some reasonably sane way for Skinner.”

“I’ll write the report,” Mulder agreed. “I’ll just need help with the sane parts.”

“Good thing I’m here,” she said lightly.

***

After Scully finished the last drops of her wine, she excused herself to use the bathroom. The waitress came back and set the check down in front of Mulder.

“Going well, isn’t it?” she said in a thick Massachusetts accent.

Mulder stopped getting out his credit card to look up at her, confused. Arms crossed over her ample chest, she looked down at him, smiling broadly.

“What’s going well?” he said.

“Your date,” she said knowingly. She winked. “She likes you. Trust me. I can tell when a lady is interested, and she’s interested.”

Mulder smiled politely back, putting his card down on the tray. “Oh, it’s not a date,” he said. “We work together.”

The waitress just smirked. “If you say so, sweetie.” She took the tray and shrugged. “It’s pretty obvious though.” ***

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 13 thoughts

before we begin: i’m gonna be upfront with you. this is another episode i did not like. this was scully’s 3, if you catch my meaning.

but i made a post announcing that i did not like this episode after a mere 10 minutes of viewing, and received some comments saying that others were big fans. as always, this is a place where i welcome discussion! PLEASE tell me what you think. you can try to talk me into liking it! tell me how you see it, and how it makes sense to you, and why you enjoyed it; maybe you’ll sway me. maybe not. maybe i’m cool and different for not liking things other people like, or maybe i’m basic because other people don’t like it as well. i have no frame of reference, which makes this blog so fun!

frankly, there are some things that i as a viewer just don’t want to see. i am not a fan of misogyny or watching THE hetbait of all time kiss other people.

here we are! so, i have been informed that in the timeline of canon, this episode i’m about to watch actually takes place BEFORE the last one. which i have noted. although it will be hard to distract myself from knowing what i do know now, i’ll do my best. 

(author's note: yeah i see why that clarification is important)

okay, the episode description. mulder? vacationing? i don’t believe it for a second. 

oh god, i don’t wanna see scully pine for some random guy. maybe there will just be an intellectual attraction here. i just don’t want to see it. i’m not sorry!!!!

okay. let’s go. still not believing in vacation mulder, but i’ll give it my best. 

some guy named jerse is getting divorced. wait. wait no. i recognize that name from a fanfic i read. NO.

i couldn’t remember what the hell this dude’s name was (jerve? juss?) because he only popped up BRIEFLY in a fanfic i read that had no seasoning relevant warnings. but because of this, i know what he is here to do. DAMN IT. let this be a lesson: read fic that is marked by the season!!!!

jerse is getting divorced. he is kinda handsome, i won’t lie. but he looks like a sick freak and he’s being weird to this bartender 

oh god, he has kids. scully STAY AWAY FROM THIS MAN- I’M NOT GONNA ASK AGAIN. pulling out a photo of him and the kids at the bar. a pathetic individual.

he burned himself out of the picture with a cigarette?? this is clearly well-adjusted behavior 

now he’s drunk outside a tattoo shop. in the rain. looking at a tattoo of a cartoon woman. and now he’s home? he has a tattoo he doesn’t seem to remember. ah. the cartoon woman. drink can do this to a man.

now he’s crawling on all fours? what do you want me to do about that. 

gooood, i know what’s coming because of that fanfic that accidentally spoiled me, and i’m gonna be so pissed. has my hater energy been distracting you lately? is this blog still enjoyable? be honest. but not too honest. i will cry.

mulder and scully are talking to someone about a UFO sighting, someone who is talking about explosions but no sound. she’s busy looking at the vietnam war memorial. NO there’s a little car that someone left for their dead brother :( she picks up a leaf and takes it with her…. i bet she is thinking about her own brothers and the sister she lost

back to jerse. he’s on the phone trying to sell stocks to a random woman who is fighting with her kids. 

oh. a disembodied voice calls him a loser. well, do it again for me. so he’s hearing things, including laughter.

OH no….. he’s blaming some random woman in the office for calling him a loser and confronting her. she was LITERALLY BUSY! leave her alone. he’s throwing stuff around. very professional (heavy on the /s). and he gets sent home which is good because i was scared, they were scared, we were all scared. 

scully is in mulder’s office, holding his name tag. awwww.

oh, my suspicions about mulder were correct- he did not want to go on vacation, but he was forced to! he is taking piles of x files with him. and he’s suspicious that they’re trying to get rid of him.

“gotta pay the rent” <- your dad had like 3 fucking houses i do not believe that for a SECOND you need this job to put food on the table mulder

“why don’t i have a desk?” she asks <- LMAOOO... i miss you s1 scully desk we saw that singular time that i always assumed still existed but i guess no longer does

(this seemed like a funny throwaway line to me at first, hence my lmao, but i later understood that this line was said with a Seriousness. however, i like to leave things as they were so you can really get a feel for my mind, all the wrong conclusions included)

AWWW he says we can get a desk and they can be really close and we can play battleship... LMAOOO i think….? i can’t tell if he’s being genuine and wants to help, or catty because he’s pissed he has to take a vacation 

OH! he’s pissed. what does he want her to keep an eye on? “that contact that we met last night at the wall, who had the distinction of being present for a first- that being you abandoning me during questioning” OHHHH he went there!!! damn! slim to no empathy when he is in alien mode.

“in the future, i’ll make sure that all those people being interviewed provide you with a multimedia laser show to keep your interest maintained” <- WHAT THE FUCK MULDER? DO I LAUGH OR WANT TO SLAP YOU? she looks so gagged. clearly something is on her MIND, you insensitive dolt.

so this guy they were talking to is named pudovkin, he’s from russia, and he has a doctorate in astronautical engineering, which is a term i have never heard before.

scully still seems distracted… but she asks if pudovkin’s reports on UFO crashes are for sale. which mulder confirms, but they are at a high price.

mulder tries to give her the assignment, and he made all these arrangements, but she says NO!!! LMAO (?) she says that russian guy they spoke with was recounting the plot of a cartoon. okay, queen is well-versed in her cartoons! i see you

oh my god, what is the tone of this episode…?

“so you’re refusing an assignment based on the adventures of moose and squirrel” “refusing an assignment? that makes it sound like you’re my superior”

oh, that pissed him off… “do what you want, don’t go to philadelphia, but let me remind you that i worked my ass off to get these files reopened. you were just assigned. this work is my life” <- HEY BUCKO. let us take a deep and calming breath. let us choose our words with kindness when talking to our friends.

“and it’s become mine” <- oh my GOD... that motif.... her getting pulled further and further into this...

so i can tell you right now, with confidence: i do not like this episode. why is he being mean? she is clearly thinking about something. i thought he was teasing at first, but clearly now he isn’t. if i were him i would say “hey, you seem distracted. is everything alright?” IS THAT HARD? IS THAT SO FUCKING HARD TO DO?

and it would still make for compelling TV!!! hey listen, i hear you saying "if they didn't have problems, there would be no plot" to which i say: there has been plenty of plot in the past when they have treated each other with kindness, no?

she says she is losing sense of her life- “this isn’t about you, mulder, or maybe it is in an indirect way”- and he says “maybe it’s good that we get away from each other for a while” <- WHAT IS GOING ON???

he seems so shocked to hear that the x files aren’t her whole life……… baby boy, let’s use context clues... yes, he is in ahab mode....

he says he’s going on a spiritual journey to discover something about himself…. and she sets the leaf she found from before on his desk. hmm. hmmmm.

back to jerse. he’s on the phone again. begging for his job back. doesn’t seem to be going well. oh my gosh, he just beat the phone. smashed it over and over again. i am frightened.

the evil tattoo is taunting him. so he is crawling on all fours to see if it’s coming from the floor below, which simply has a lady and some birds! those poor birds! 

(is this tattoo supposed to be a representation of mental illness? if so, which one? is it supposed to be insecurity? placed upon him by society? toxic masculinity?)

he’s talking to some missionaries who are trying to tell him that his downstairs neighbor is not involved in a plot to drive him insane…..

oh my god he broke into the bird lady’s apartment. OH MY GOD???????????

soundtrack this episode is killer though, i’ll give it that. put more music in my monster of the week content.

oh my god he’s like. dragging something. hard to tell because the screen is almost ENTIRELY BLACK. yes. he is putting a box in an incinerator. that presumably contains bird lady. real charming fellow, this jerse. 

(this is kinda like if little shop of horrors involved a tattoo instead of a plant. the tattoo says no one will hurt him again. sure, man. i’ve seen how that musical ends)

mulder is wet. on the road, outside his car. very wet. calling to see how scully is doing. he wants to know where she is!!!! but there is no answer.

scully is in philly, looking at the files about the russian space guy, watching him. she’s tailing him now into some convenience store. he is fighting loudly in russian and exchanging money……. hmm. that’s not promising. 

is he going into the tattoo shop? so goes the scully, in that case.

oh no. jerse is in there. he’s asking a separate russian guy who is the tattoo artist to cover up the cartoon tattoo…. 

oh god, he gets scully involved. “you like this, on his arm?” and now it’s winking. it has changed its design.

she says the coloring is nice (very thoughtful response to being sucked into a strange situation), and the russian tattoo guy is talking about how he learned how to tattoo in prison, while the creepy voice in jerse’s head is commenting on his new undying love for scully. but the actual russian space guy is in the back!!!

god, i don’t want to watch thiiiiiiis. but i must. i am a journalist, after all. she lies and says she’s visiting her aunt. and that she wishes she was impulsive sometimes. 

she says she’s leaving- but he gives her his number. god, is this gonna be a multi-episode thing???

OH MY GOD, MULDER IS CALLING FROM GRACELAND “i’m at that special place and i wanted to share it with you…. did you know elvis bought all of his furniture in just thirty minutes?”

wait. hold on. that’s cute. he wanted to share it with her. but also how DID he know where she was? it’s their usual spot… “i knew you wouldn’t abandon me” <- AWWW why were you mean earlier!!!!! you are being sweet now :(

(again, i ask: what IS the tone of this episode?)

she says there’s no case, no x file, the russian guy is involved in gangs and fraud and whatnot. she's handing it over to the philly bureau and that is that.

she is very pissed that he is ordering her around as always (well, i support that!) and he pulls his “what, do you have a date or something?” card. and then CONSPICUOUS SILENCE.

oh my god he’s STUTTERING “you’re-you’re kidding” (he sadly returns to graceland and makes some elvis moves) (we can hear the sound of his heart breaking)

jerse’s tattoo is still talking to him while scully looks at his business card. she says her flight is cancelled and that she can pick him up!!! oh my god. oh my gooood.

jerse is huffing his cigarette and also trying to burn out the tattoo with it. more concerning behavior. it's like when seymour throws the rat poison in audrey ii.

the jehovah’s witnesses are strategically knocking on the door of the now dead bird lady. and scully is here with jerse. she’s entering his apartment. 

you know what? this motherfucker looks like jeremy jordan. just an observation. sing, newsie boy.

she’s saying she doesn’t go out much…. but she noticed he’s bleeding. and also she says she’s a doctor. feels like that is relevant information to reveal before a date. don’t you want to know what a potential date does before you go out with them? well, i guess that is highlighting her desire to be impulsive.

oh god, she also finds the photo of him and the kids…. while he’s in the bathroom bandaging his wounds. 

she wants to go to the crummy bar??? okay. get out your inner rebellion i guess.

he says that this is a good place to go when you’re down, because everyone here looks like they have worse problems than him. fair enough. except for also NOT fair enough... because he killed a woman!

scully says she goes around in a circle when an authority figure comes into her life, and part of her wants it, needs the approval, but then… 

(it seems she is making a pointed reference to mulder here...? is that what he is to her? an authority figure?)

now she’s talking about her dad….  she would sneak out of the house and smoke the cigarettes. yes, i remember this from beyond the sea!!!! she did this because she knew that if he found out he would kill her.

he says the tattoo marked him never going back. SHE TRIES TO SEE IT AND HE GRABS HER???????

what the fuck what the FUCK. are we going to witness violence.

SO NOW SHE’S GONNA GET ONE TOO?? on her back???? the ouroboros she was looking at before! yes, the never ending cycle.

what the hell… i am deeply uncomfy. he’s watching her get a tattoo and it’s like erotic or something??? to him. and she’s breathing all weird. and then. there is a tattoo.

(this scene only reinforced my previous conclusions from earlier today looking up "am i asexual" quizzes)

god, is she gonna stay here with him? he says the weather is bad and he wants her to be safe and that he’ll sleep on the couch.

she says she feels different now after the tattoo. and he’s taking off the bandage. says it looks alright. but he’s bleeding again. and she’s taking off his shirt…..

the tattoo starts TALKING??? “you kiss her, and she’s dead” HEY WHAT

oh god……………………. the door shuts

pause. y’all. i don’t think i’m cut out for this.

okay, back to the FBI. mulder is here. trying to find scully. and he cannot reach her!!!

he sees the leaf she left on his desk…. and these two are waking up the next morning. his tattoo is still bleeding. dude, you should probably make some sort of appointment about that. 

scully’s in his giant shirt as she shows the detectives at the door (!!!) her badge. they want to talk about the disappearance of the bird lady. they are not taking her seriously, because she is in some random guy’s shirt in some random guy’s house. but she’s jotting some stuff down. 

things are clicking in her mind, about the disappearance. oh my god dial up noises! wow, that’s loud and annoying. shoutout to people who had to deal with that in the 90's.

she seems to be realizing that she has made a grave mistake. 

THE STUFF THE RUSSIAN GUY MADE THE TATTOO INK OUT OF WAS IN THE KILLER’S BLOOD????!!!

she grabs her tattoo because like. now it’s in HER blood too. oh my god the tattoo ink had DRUGS in it????

scully is trying to call mulder…. who runs to his phone. but she hangs up on him!!!! now why would you do all that? oh, because jerse approaches.

she tells him to sit down. very seriously. and she straight up says she thinks the blood the detectives found was his. well i guess honesty is sometimes a good policy.

so they might hallucinate stuff now from the ergot. and they might be dangerous. they need to get to the hospital now. 

he confesses to hearing things now…. “she talks to me. she hates women. my wife, my boss, you” ohhhh my god. i wonder how she is feeling....

she says they need to go to the hospital now. together. 

the tattoo's voice is talking to him about who she called…. and he presses the redial button…. and….

HOLY FUCK, HE’S ATTACKING HER. i mean, i knew it was going to happen eventually, but like. doesn't make it any more enjoyable to watch.

oh man, they are really going at it…. he knocks her out….. and he wraps her up to take her to the incinerator……………. ???????

but she stabs him with the scissors… and she’s trying to tell him to take control. so he BURNS HIS ARM OFF???!? to get the tattoo to shut up. 

BUT NOW THE MUSIC FLOURISHES OVER HER TATTOO???

girl if she has a demon in her now............. i need a cigarette

she’s coming back to the office with bruises on her face. “congratulations for making a personal appearance in the x files for a second time” says mulder. well, that’s gotta be a record. and that is exactly what he brings up next!

he’s trying to make a joke, but she’s grabbing the leaf on his desk………

he thinks this is his fault…… “not everything is about you, mulder. this is my life” “yes, but it….” (sighs)

end episode.

okay. so. what am i thinking. 

well. i am thinking many things. first of all- what is that tattoo supposed to represent? was it supposed to represent how misogyny poisons men’s minds? and turns them into people they aren’t deep down? is it about male insecurity, and how it turns into violence? and if we are taking that interpretation- doesn't that kinda just blame women for the scourge that is misogyny? like "look how you divorced that guy, guess you can't blame men for hating half of the population" because if that was what they were going for. i find issues with that.

second. i’m glad scully had her growth moment. if i were her, i would have told off mulder a long time ago for being too domineering. i don't think he intends to do it- i think he gets too caught up in his own quest for answers- but intention does not make his actions any less hurtful. and she clearly needed to have that rebellion moment. i’m glad she had it, even if it went terribly, at least she survived.

but the agents' dynamic felt… mean-spirited. i couldn’t tell what was joking and what was below the belt, and i’m not sure i’m supposed to be able to. he does take advantage of her, and i certainly don't oppose her pointing that out. i oppose him being mean to her- or at least, i find it hard to watch. i understand that the whole project does mean the world to him because maybe, just maybe, it will bring his sister back- but still. it is an infuriating characteristic of his, how little attention he pays to others.

and i don't necessarily think that aspect of him is written consistently, either. what about that time they were so incredibly close to answers and he let them go because he wanted scully to be able to see her sister again? what about every single time he's risked his neck for her?

i guess what i'm saying is, his fury at the start of the episode felt like it came out of nowhere, and was directed at her questioning his authority- and was over nothing beyond her tuning out one time. i find that idea of mulder as this authority figure that scully is chasing approval from in a manner akin to her own father (!!!) hard to reconcile with the mulder who held her in irresistible, who pummeled the doctor who maybe possibly might have hurt her in one breath, who runs every theory by her, and so on. you see what i'm saying? it felt as if this episode cast the whole series in the retrospective light of him only wanting her around so he can have a loyal henchman, and not that he valued her as an actual person- which we know he does. she zones out one day and he snaps on her? she goes on a rant about how she is always chasing authority's approval shortly after? i'm just not buying it. it felt like the rift era again. you could argue that it is scully's grief that is distorting her view of him, but even entertaining that possibility from a narrative perspective made me feel like i needed a bath. so... sleazy.

bullying aside- for an episode about breaking free from mulder’s influence, he seemed to really care for her and try and reach her, if we ignore the terrible things he said and just focus on his actions. on vacation and at work, he wanted to make sure she was okay. and it was sweet, but when cast in the light i mentioned earlier- in comparison to her father- it felt, like, paternalistic, which made my skin crawl. which is an understatement.

she needed to have that important character development, don’t get me wrong. it seems she’s worked so hard her whole life and has never made time to break some rules, except for when she was a kid. she needs to rebel at some point- but it was the framing of their dynamic that icked me out. and maybe i'm interpreting something in a different way than everyone else does. honestly, i hope i'm misunderstanding something. please feel free to correct me.

there was clearly something on her mind that distracted her from one interview, and the episode is trying to show us that her life isn’t just the x files like mulder's is. they’re different. maybe they spend too much time together. maybe they needed time apart, and maybe she needed to do the things she never let herself in the past. but… you can tell from reading this post that while i agree with some of the character choices- scully confronting him for being too controlling, letting herself let loose for once- i think they made sense in theory but less so in this particular execution. 

and yeah, there’s me the viewer who doesn’t want to see that shit happen, be it scully being attacked or sex outside the slowburn that gave us the term "ship". you can’t blame me there. i am a mere mortal. but also…… damn. something about the way jerse said he hated women and grabbed scully made me feel sick. 

i think that scully has a lot of grief and anger, and i think she reached a boiling point in this episode. and i think she won’t do the things she did ever again. but it still felt so out of character to see her do those things. and was she implying, with her whole speech about her father, that she seems mulder as this controlling force in her life? that their dynamic has been entirely unequal from the beginning? that he acts like a boss to her, and whatever the fuck it is they have going on (because it can’t be described in words, we both know that) has been an imbalance of power this whole time? that makes things feel…….. less warm and fuzzy, in retrospect, don’t you think? the idea that mulder only keeps her around as a foot soldier and doesn't really give a damn about her?

(again. it could be her grief talking. grief is not rational. but i had never seen it like that before, and it casts everything in a different light)

i think this episode had clear commentary on misogyny. the way that jerse’s thoughts were poisoned to hate women, how we explore mulder inadvertently taking the upper hand throughout their relationship, the way the detectives wouldn’t believe scully at her word when questioning her about the blood. i think it explored scully's frustration in being in a male-dominated field, and feeling like she always has to be perfect. but other than that, i'm not sure what i'm supposed to take away from the whole thing, unless i am to think that whatever relationship it is they do have is nothing more than one of uneven control. because that's the vibe i was getting from this one.

it felt out of character, and not just in the purposeful subversion of how we normally see scully- their whole fight felt off. and the tone was all over the place. first we're joking, then we're arguing nasty style, then we're joking, then sexy, then fight time violence against women, then joke? unresolved ending feeling i cannot explain? what do i make of this?!

idk. i don't feel like i'm wording my points well, but i'm not sure i want to really keep trying either. and i feel that if i did my usual thing, which is watch an episode, take notes, think it over for a day, and THEN edit the notes, i might be able to have a more coherent thought process- but given potential controversy, i want to get this out tonight.

i want to really hear your thoughts- if you ride or die for this episode, walk me through it! did you also not like it? is it mid to you? i'm listening. i want to know. i have no ill-intent, and i feel bad that i've been a bit harsh lately. let us discuss. it is all peace and love over here.

[dreamwatch]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Prompt: Pride | Word Count: 1031 | Rating: M | CW: Alcohol/drug abuse, driving under the influence, car accident | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth Stranger Things, past Steddie, Eddie is a very bad boy, possibly downright unlikeable, ambiguous ending

“Eddie, don’t.”

“Come on, man.” 

“Don’t be stupid, Eddie!”

He’s not listening, not tonight. Tonight he has a calling from on high. Tonight he has places to be, a person to see. A person to touch.

Tonight he’s driving

He climbs into the car, his beautiful Ferrari bought with the spoils of fame. There are three cars in his garage, but this is the fastest. This is the one he wants to be in tonight. It’s a racer, meant for speed, a rocket ship of possibilities. 

There are voices behind him, the band arguing amongst themselves. Maybe they’re shouting at him, but he’s not listening. He’s only had a two or three vodkas, and coke doesn’t have the same effect on him as it used to, back when he was a kid and all this was new to them. The pills were nothing, just something to keep him awake, something to chill him out. But he’s older now and those things aren’t new anymore. Booze and drugs are supplements, part of the regime, part of his five a day. It’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything.

It’s Gareth that follows him, climbing in beside him a second before Eddie turns the key in the ignition and the car roars to life.

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing, man? Come back inside.”

“Get out.”

“I’m not—”

“Get out!”

Gareth buckles his seat belt tight and glares at him.

“Fine,” Eddie spits at him. “Fuck you then.”

He revs the engine repeatedly, the vibration like electricity through his body. It only goads him on. He slams his foot to the pedal and the car streaks out of his garage and onto the streets.

The city is magical at night, blinding lights, a stratospheric glimmer of colour. He knows if he was walking out on the road it would be quiet, there’d be no sound, just the occasional car speeding past on the empty streets, just like he is now. There’s music in the car, a blasting thump of drums and bass and he feels his foot drop on the accelerator; he doesn’t look at the speedometer because he doesn’t care. Part of him wishes he’d taken the bike, his black Yamaha that barely gets ridden anymore, then Gareth would still be back at the house with Jeff and Matt and their girlfriends, and not with him shouting for him to slow down. 

“—wait till tomorrow. Nothing will have changed. Let’s just go back, you can talk to him tomorrow, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t like to be ignored, doesn’t like his calls going unanswered. So no, actually, it won’t wait. He wants him tonight. Deserves to have Steve tonight.

“Eddie, slow down.”

“No.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie! It’s red!”

It’s a challenge, him against the stop light, him against the cross traffic. The road is empty, he knows it will be fine, Gareth just worries too much. He always has. Cocky until he’s not, that’s Gareth. If nothing else it will be a good lesson for him. Eddie didn’t want him here so he can consider this his punishment. 

Eddie floors the gas pedal, the engine butter smooth as it gives him the speed he wants, and he howls out of the open window as he flies through the stop light, laughing into the hot summer night.

Gareth is heaving in deep breaths beside him and it only makes him laugh more, he can barely hear himself over the sound of the engine and the music. 

The Ferrari speeds over the freeway and he feels like he’s flying. He feels like he’s free, and when the fuck was the last time he felt like that? His face is everywhere, his every second accounted for, every moment of his life planned. Stand here, wear this, do what we tell you, say what we tell you. He just needs a moment to fly.

Gareth is on the phone, but the engine noise and music drown out whatever he’s saying. Eddie doesn’t really care. He can call Jeff, he can call Wayne, fuck, call the cops for all he cares. What are they going to do? He’s Eddie fucking Munson.

He lifts his foot of the gas just a little, just enough so that when he floors it again he can feel it. It’s like warp speed, he’s Han Solo and Gareth is Chewbacca and the laughter fires through him again, the utter absurdity of it all. He loves his life.

He hates everything.

When he checks on Gareth he looks like he’s going to be sick, and there’s no fucking way he’s going to be sick in his Ferrari, so he lays off the gas. Gareth hangs his head out of his own window, the wind blowing his hair back. It’s warm out tonight, it just makes everything headier. Makes his need feel deeper.

He needs Steve. It’s in his head now, can’t sleep, can’t sleep, can’t sleep, can’t be without Steve. That there, that’s the heart of it, he doesn’t know how to be without him. Can’t get his head around him leaving, can’t comprehend why he’d walk out on this. They had everything, Eddie gave him everything, and he threw it back at him. Like, how fucking dare he work, go out on the road, make money for them? They were fine, they had a system, it worked for him, it worked for Steve, he’d have said if didn’t. It was Robin getting in Steve’s head again, telling him this wasn’t normal, ‘it’s not a relationship if you’re never together, Steve’, and when did she become such a meddling cunt? 

He drops his foot on the accelerator.

It’s not instant. The streaks of light are lining the road, leading him to heaven, and then it’s the light polluted sky he sees, the distant glimmer of weak stars filling the windscreen. He thinks Gareth is screaming beside him, but Eddie’s not scared. He feels like he’s floating, feels the hot night air whip around him, feels the dizzying spin of the car, his own fairground ride in the sky. The strips of white lining the asphalt rise up to meet him. 

He never feels the hit.

Yes it's essentially Blinding Lights by The Weeknd, but this prompt was fighting me so hard and I've spent days trying to make another story work and it just wasn't. Then this came on, and yes I may have looped it for half an hour while I wrote, but I competed the prompt!

@the-unforgivenn

[superblysubpar]

We'll Call It Love masterlist | It Had To Be You masterlist

the song: Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall // It Had To Be You playlist

warnings: this story is a part of the series We’ll Call It Love, and much of it would be spoiled if you read this first. It’s linked above, and I hope you love it! | series warnings pertain | mentions of drugs | "illusions" to smut

3k words

Steve always thought he’d meet the love of his life, his soul mate, at a bar. 

Which sounds kind of lame now maybe? It’s just that the movies make it feel like this magical moment - you know, the couple sees each other, the music swells, the lights change - it’s undeniable. 

But that’s not happening for Steve Harrington it seems, definitely not tonight. 

Maybe not ever. 

So here he is, just breaking up with another girl in another random Chicago bar. 

His thumb pulls at the damp paper label, his brows furrowed over hazel eyes girls tend to like to look into deeply from time to time - or so he’s been told. 

“It’s just not working.”

The words taste more bitter than the beer on his tongue because for Steve, that’s quite the opposite of how he feels a relationship should be described. Your relationship shouldn’t feel like a job. It should be easy. It should feel right. It should just work for lack of a better term. 

When there’s no response from the other side of the table he finally glances up from the shredded label to find her typing on her phone, reaching for her wine glass and nodding. 

“Brenda?”

The blonde finally lifts her eyes from the device, smiling under vacant eyes. 

“Sorry, did you say something?”

Steve sighs deeply. He rubs at his temple as he nods. 

“Yeah, yeah I did. I don’t…I don’t think we should…do this anymore?”

Silence. 

She’s typing on her phone again. 

“Brenda?” He blinks at her incredulously before leaning across the table, closer, as he lowers his voice, “Brenda, I’m breaking up with you.”

She snaps her gum, slides her phone into her purse and starts to slide out of the booth. 

“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Listen, I didn’t even know we were dating? We haven’t even slept together and I didn’t think we were, like, an inclusive thing, you know?”

“You mean exclusive?” 

She’s already walking out the door. As Steve watches her go with a disbelieving stare, he sees one of the TVs suspended over the bar has the Cubs game on now. 

Well at least tonight isn’t a total bust. 

“Hey man, ‘nother beer?” The bartender who brought him his first one asks from where he’s collecting empty dishes at a nearby table. 

“Um,” Steve runs a hand through his hair, squinting at the tabletop before he sighs. “Sure, thanks.”

The bartender leaves and Steve rests his chin on his fist, watching the game but not really seeing it. 

He’s not really sure what he’s doing anymore. Is it all just normal? To be this hopeless, to be this unhappy with life, to be this lonely. There has to be someone out there for him right? 

His phone buzzes loudly on the table, stealing him from his spiral only for the dread he was barely allowing himself to dip into, swallow him whole and drown him. 

The contact ‘Dad’ displays with no photo for what feels like forever until it finally stops and the screen goes dark. 

Steve is still staring down at it when a large basket of breadsticks slides under his nose and a cold beer right behind it. 

He glances up and the bartender is taking his empty bottle, smiling in a sort of laid back way that makes Steve envious of his clearly relaxed state and demeanor. 

“On the house. You look pretty down about that blonde.”

“Oh,” Steve sits up, clearing his throat. He feels the warmth under his cheeks as he shakes his head, “No, um, she’s…yeah, I’m not missing her. Just lost in thought I guess. Thank you…” Steve trails off, looking for a name tag.

“Argyle, man,” the bartender slaps his hand out and grabs Steve’s. 

Steve points to the ceiling, smiling. “Like the name of the bar?”

“One and the same my dude. Let me know if I can get you anything else.”

Steve keeps his eyes on the game until he can’t resist the scent of butter and cheese and he grabs one of the breadsticks. He practically moans when he takes the first bite, and his eyes flutter open when he hears a laugh float across the quiet room. 

He swallows around the way too hot to have taken that big of a bite of bread as he sees you. You’re the only girl at the bar, head thrown back in a laugh he swears sounds like a favorite song as Argyle pours more red wine in your glass. There’s pizza in your hand and you’re gesturing to the baseball game. 

He might already be in love with you. 

And that’s before he watches you devour more than one piece of the pizza you’re eating alone and watching the baseball game like you actually care about it. 

Steve clicks his phone unlocked, ignoring the text from his father, and types one to Robin instead. 

Steve: Do you believe in soul mates?

It takes less than a minute for her to respond. 

Robin: Steve, I’m sorry, but I cannot do this. Brenda is NOT your soul mate Steve: we just broke up Robin: oh thank god Robin: I mean, I am so sorry, what can I do? Ice cream? Steve: no, listen… Steve: there’s this girl here Robin: no Steve: I haven’t even told you the best part Robin: let me guess, you think you love her already? Steve: if you’re gonna be a brat about it, I will not tell you that she’s watching the Cubs game right now Robin: wow? Steve: Robs, she’s ACTUALLY watching it Robin: Yeah, and? Do you even know her name yet, Dingus? Have you spoken to her? Dude, I love you, but you can’t keep doing this Steve: what’s a good pick up line?

Steve takes a swig of his beer and chokes around it when Robin responds.

Robin: I might not be a pro player, but when it comes to you, I won't stop until I’ve reached all the bases Steve: absolutely not Robin: I think I glove you Robin: my dugout, or yours? Robin: I’m an umpire. Can I have your number so I can make the call? Steve: I hate you Robin: why don’t you just go with “Hi.” idiot Robin: also, why are there SO many baseball pick up lines on google? And what do they mean? Wtf is a pinch hitter?

Steve rolls his eyes at his screen, locking it closed as he slides out of the booth. He approaches the bar slowly, deciding that Robin is right, he should take it slow, he always does this. 

And maybe he’ll go with the umpire line. 

But when he’s right behind your shoulder, so close he can smell your perfume that makes him want to fall inside the bottle, he sees your pizza. 

And it has fucking olives on it. 

“Shit.”

He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but he clearly did, and when you turn to face him, he sort of forgets how to breathe. 

You’re clearly taking him in just like he is you, and when he sees your mouth drop open a little as your eyes meet each other, he feels like someone is playing a prank on him. 

Because the bar lights dim and the lyrics of As Time Goes By plays loudly. 

And Steve knows, logically, that this is all because it’s the time of night where bars dim their lights and that the song is from the other TV playing Casablanca. He knows this. 

And yet…

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

Steve kisses your temple as he leans around you and grabs a breadstick on the bar despite your protest. He groans around the bread as you turn to smile at him. 

“I swear, Argyle puts drugs in these.” 

He sighs, pushing more into his mouth as he blinks at you, nodding his agreement. Steve’s eyes roam over the little black dress you have on, stopping appreciatively on the lace neckline that dips nicely and not so innocently. His fist comes up over his mouth, clearing his throat around the bite he shoves into his cheek so he can talk. 

“You look nice.”

“What, this old thing?” You spin on the stool, shrugging your shoulders with a smile. 

“Did you have something going on at work today?” He asks, brows furrowing and at first you think he’s joking, but then he cocks his head, ripping at more of the breadstick.

“Um, no, I-”

“Hey,” Steve waves for Argyle’s attention before he turns to you, apologetic, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, do you care if we get the pizza to go? I’m beat from today, and I just need to get into something that isn’t this tie and eat that pizza and pass out.”

“Oh, uh, sure.” You smile, sure it’s not quite meeting your eyes, but Steve doesn’t notice because he’s already relaying the message to Argyle who looks at you curiously, then Steve, then you again before nodding. 

“Sure, man, I’ll box it up right now, it just got out of the oven.”

He walks away and Steve looks at you curiously, “That was weird, right?”

Except it wasn’t, because Argyle and you must see all the couples literally making out over their pizza, or snuggled up on the same side of booths and pressing their noses into cheeks and whispering sweet nothings into ears. Argyle and you must know that today is Valentine’s Day and Steve…doesn’t?

You quickly hop off the stool, grab your thick winter coat and shrug it on, pretending not to notice, “No? It’s busy, maybe he’s just overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Steve trails off, looking around until he lands back on you buttoning your coat, then down at your feet when he smiles. “Hey, you’re wearing the heels I bought you.”

A hum leaves your pursed lips as you roll your eyes. “Well, they’re really nice and they’re not doing anyone any good hanging out in my closet collecting dust on their red soles.”

Steve leans in and kisses you, quickly and subtly before he whispers, “It’s okay to admit you like the fancy things I buy you…speaking of…” He grabs his wallet from his back pocket.

He hands you his debit card, before he nods outside, “I’m gonna go run and pull the car up so you don’t have to walk in those all the way to where I finally found parking.”

“Steve, I can-” He’s already waving it off and kissing your cheek, disappearing out the door he barely just walked through. 

You slump against the bar and pull out your phone, looking around at the packed place with a sour feeling in your stomach. 

Normally, you hate this day. It’s overpriced consumerism at its finest. It's a sickening zoo of PDA everywhere you look, and places like here that normally are your peaceful, quiet spots, are packed. 

But you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were sort of looking forward to the day this year. Because, in all honesty, you’ve never really had someone you’ve wanted to celebrate with or someone who cared to do so until now.

Until Steve. 

Which is what leads you to pull out your phone, open a text to Robin, decide absolutely not because she’d just text him and then he’d feel awful and instead you call Eddie who answers on the first ring.

“What.”

You go to bite at your lower lip at the sound of his curt greeting and think better of it, what with the lipstick you put on for tonight and all. 

“Are you busy?”

Eddie sighs, dramatically, and you hear the distinct sound of a can crushing. “Yeah, I’m fucking the love of my life after we just had a candle lit dinner for two.”

As you look at the window, waiting to see Steve’s car, your eyes roll. Argyle hands you the pizza box with a smile and your voice lowers.

“Steve’s a…has he…does he like Valentine’s Day?”

Eddie snorts as he slurps a sip of a fresh beer into the receiver, “What kind of question is that. Of course Steve likes Valentine’s Day. It’s his shit. One year he took a girl out to like this whole big, fancy dinner and ice skating. Presents, flowers, the whole thing. He even gets Robin flowers and a card every year. He’s always been like that. Got everyone in middle school like the really nice candy and cards. Superheroes and name brand shit.”

“Oh.”

There’s silence on the other end for what feels like forever and you hear his sharp inhale as the car pulls up. 

“I gotta go,” you start to hang up but then think better of it and hiss into the phone, “Don’t say anything to him or Robin or Nancy or I will kill you.”

“But-” You click off the phone before he can say another word and head out the door where Steve is already jogging around the front of his car and opening your door for you. 

The glaring reality of your situation hits you as Steve closes the door.

Steve didn’t forget Valentine’s Day, he just doesn’t want to celebrate it with you. 

You try to shake off the mood, to smile and nod as he talks the whole way to his apartment about the new job, because you are really proud of him and you love hearing how excited he is for this new work he’s doing. And really, isn’t being alone with him, eating pizza, in comfy clothes, a perfect night with him because anything you do with him is perfect? 

It’s just hard to shake the fact that it’s a known fact he’s gone above and beyond for everyone else on this holiday, but not for you. 

Steve grows quiet as you walk inside the apartment building, thumb swiping over your knuckles back and forth gently until you untangle your fingers so he can unlock his door. 

The heels are kicked off and your coat hung as Steve slides the pizza onto the island, turning towards his bar. “I got that wine you really liked, do you want a glass of that with it, or…” he trails off waiting for you to respond.

You nod and head towards his room, but his arm snakes around your waist, tugging you to a stop so you can see his eyes when he ducks his head to catch your gaze. Steve speaks softly, worried, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you smile and he frowns and you kiss the corner of his lips, “Sorry, I just had a long day too, I guess. Lady things. Heels hurting, whatever-”

“The heels hurt?” He looks genuinely concerned, and goes to reach for his phone, “I’ll get you a different size, they shouldn’t hurt-”

“No, no, no, I meant like…” you kiss him again, feeling something in your chest ache. 

Steve is wonderful, wanting to buy you new shoes because your feet hurt and here you are sulking because what? He didn’t get you overpriced bad chocolates? 

He kisses you back, hand cupping your jaw until you’re sighing and pulling away. 

“The shoes don’t hurt my feet. I don’t know why I said that. They’re perfect and the wine sounds great. I’m gonna change quick, okay?”

He nods, but he’s still frowning as you turn into his bedroom. You literally shake out your arms as you enter his closet, like you’re trying to rid your body of the bratty feeling as you roll your head from side to side, the tense feeling in your neck making you feel nauseous and guilty. 

You pad over to the tall dresser, pulling at the top drawer that’s slowly becoming yours as your phone rings, loudly, in the other room. 

“Steve, can you grab that? It’s in my coat pocket. It’s probably just Eddie, I hung up on him earlier…” you trail off as you remember what else is in the coat pocket and you race back out to the kitchen, sweats and one of Steve’s shirts in your hands. 

Your tights covered feet skid to a stop in his kitchen at the sight of what Steve holds in his hand. 

His tie is gone, white dress shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal the white tank top underneath with a small glimpse of his chest hair peeking out the top of it. His hair is sticking every which way, like he ran both hands through it several times in less than the minute you’ve been a part. 

And in his fingers dangles a gold chain, his gold chain, with a little ‘S’ hanging from it.

“Steve, I-”

He looks up at you and his cheeks are flushed pink and his eyes look a little glassy and he clears his throat as he holds it up higher. The ‘S’ spins with the movement, catching the light and sparkling as his voice breaks a little when he asks, “What’s this?”

Your eyes close as you groan and drop the items. The heels of your palms into your eyes as you shake your head. The words tumble out of you, unable to be contained any longer.  

“It’s stupid. I’m sorry. I just…I thought…I figured you’re a guy who, like, would eat this holiday shit up, and I don’t know, your chain just…I don’t know. I stole it and I brought it to a jeweler and got the ‘S’ for it and I know it’s technically a gift for me, but I just thought you’d like it if I wore it but it’s fine, I can return it or we can just…I don’t know, I-”

“Hey,” he interrupts softly, now standing just in front of you. He tugs on your wrist, pulling your hand from your face before his fingers tuck under your jaw so you have to look at him. “You got me this for Valentine’s Day?” 

The words of the holiday must make your face aching to be nonchalant twitch or shift or something because Steve leans down and presses his forehead against yours. 

“I didn’t forget. I just assumed you were very much not the kind of girl who would eat this holiday shit up,” he laughs at the parrot of your words as your lips twitch. “I thought you’d hate the fancy dinners and the flowers and chocolate, and just want today to be…normal?”

Your shoulders shrug as you step closer, letting your hands tug at his shirt collar. “I do…normally.”

Steve’s nose traces up yours and back down as he hums, lips ghosting over yours as he speaks, “Yeah? What changed?”

“Are you fishing for a compliment Harrington?” You whisper, heart stuttering in your chest as his lips catch your bottom one and linger, his breath exhaling against your skin warm as he laughs. 

“I wouldn’t complain if I got one,” his lips skim up your jaw, kissing just below your ear before he asks, “Can I put it on you?”

Something inside of your stomach flutters as you nod and spin for him. Steve’s nose follows your ear, down your neck as his hands reach around with the necklace. The cold metal hits your skin, your toes curl and legs press together as his fingertips skate across your collarbones with the ends of the chain, until they’re clasping it closed. 

You spin slowly, bodies refusing to stop touching each other as Steve swallows loudly and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His eyes remain on the necklace as you tilt your head back to look up at him. 

Steve’s hand reaches up, fingertips gently brushing down the chain until they’re on the ‘S’ where he pauses, his adams apple bobbing as the apartment grows warmer from the heat of his stare. 

He leans forward, and before you can even naturally follow, he tugs, lightly, on the ‘S’, making your brain buzz and something spark up your spine as the distance between you closes. 

Steve makes a sort of choked noise from the back of his throat, pupils blown wide when he finally looks into your eyes. 

Your lips hover over his mouth, whispering around their smirk, “Pizza’s getting cold.”

Steve groans as you slip out of his arms, spinning towards the food only to be caught around the waist by his arms. He practically drags you to his bedroom, growling, “Fuck the pizza,” around your laughter. 

You’re not sure what you were hoping for, really, with the gift, for your first Valentine’s day together. 

But watching Steve Harrington’s eyes practically roll back in his head with you grinding on top of him, his hands pressed to the mattress with fingers entangled in yours, as the chain and little gold ‘S’ hits his chin is pretty fucking great. 

Oh, and him coming with no warning when you kiss the pair of freckles on his neck and whisper, “Happy Valentine’s Day baby” was pretty cool too.