#and still showing traces of what he used to be

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 18

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17

Steve doesn’t see much of Eddie for the next few weeks. Presumably there are still Dungeons and Dragons sessions and band practices, but Steve and Chrissy are no longer invited. Jeff flits back and forth between their two groups like a child of divorce, and Steve? He just misses Eddie.

Eddie, who even once Steve slinks back to his usual seat in the cafeteria for lunch, no longer gives his table top rants. He doesn’t say anything at all, not where Steve might overhear him. But he still has Chrissy, and Robin, and Jeff, and that’s enough.

In his free time, he writes aimless letters destined to never be read.

Steve’s moving on—getting over it is a process, or so he tells Chrissy. He never shows her the letters, can’t bear to see the pity on her face. He doesn’t talk about it with Robin again either–just hides his notebook away and gets on with his life.

Eddie’s just a boy, and it’s just a crush. Steve can move on, he always does. He tells Eddie as much in a letter he’ll never read.

Everything changes when he opens his locker and something drops out. It’s a bright yellow envelope, sloppy sunflowers drawn on the sides with black pen, and there, dead center, is his name written in a handwriting he’d recognize anywhere, is his name. Not Secret Admirer, not even Harrington, just Steve.

He shoves it into his backpack before Robin can close her own locker and notice.

It stays hidden there for the rest of the day as Steve’s heartbeat rabbits away in his chest, and his palms itch with sweat. He doesn’t open it that night either, too afraid of what he might find in it. It’s like that one story Robin had told him, where the guy goes crazy after burying someone under the floorboards or something? It’s calling to him, no matter how hard he plugs his ears.

Steve doesn’t get much sleep that night.

He still hasn’t opened it by school the next day. Might not ever have opened it if he hadn’t glanced toward Eddie during lunch and caught his eye. Eddie’s staring, gaze intense even with all the distance between them. But then, the weirdest thing happens—Eddie smiles just a little, and finger waves at him, like they’re friends.

Steve just stares, gobsmacked until Eddie’s entire face starts to turn a splotchy red and he looks down at his lunch table as if embarrassed.

“What was that?” Chrissy asks, looking behind her at whatever had caught Steve’s eye.

“I have to go,” Steve blurts, rushing out of the cafeteria before she can ask anymore questions.

His and Chrissy’s usual abandoned classroom has a teacher in it, so he ends up in his and Robin’s bathroom stall, this time alone. Still, he sits on the ground, leaving enough room for the ghost of Robin to have a seat, too.

He opens his backpack, zeroing in on the envelope instantly—as if he’d ever, for a second forgotten about it—and finally pulls it out.

He traces the sunflowers on the paper, memorizing the grooves Eddie’s pen had made before finally turning it over and sliding his fingers beneath the seal to tear it open.

The paper’s thicker than he’s used to getting from Eddie, and it’s that same, bright yellow that doesn’t fit Eddie’s aesthetic at all. But it fits Steve’s, and that’s the thought that finally gets him to bring the letter closer to his face and begin to read. 

   Steve,

   I wanted to start this out by saying that I’m sorry—it’s a phrase I’m becoming alarmingly used to saying in recent weeks. To Jeff, to Gareth, and now to you. No matter how surprised I was, I had no right to say all that shit to you. And for that, I’m sorry, okay? Really, truly sorry.

   As Chrissy and Jeff pointed out once you’d left, I was a dick, and there’s no excuse for that. And as my uncle told me when he was doing his disappointed parent shtick, I might have been projecting, just a tad.

   Eddie Munson might be gay—who knew?

   So, I’ll hope you accept my sincerest apologies for how I’ve handled this whole thing, Steve. I can’t imagine how it must have felt. Well, I can now, a bit. And it’s scary, right? But, I think it’s my turn to be brave. If I haven’t already ruined any chance I might have had, maybe we can go on a date?

   I’ll pick you up this Friday at your house, say around seven? If you don’t answer the door, I’ll understand. That’ll be my answer.

   But I really, really, really hope you do.

   Yours, always, hopefully,

   Eddie

Steve stares down at it, flummoxed. He reads it again, and again, and again. When the words on the page don’t change, he slips it delicately into the envelope, and goes to his next class, mind swirling away with the clouds.

“Can I drive you home?” Steve asks Jeff before he can climb into Chrissy’s car.

“Uh, sure?” Jeff replies just as Chrissy cuts in with a near-frantic, “are you okay?”

Steve smiles tightly at her and says, “I’ll call you tonight, okay? I just need to talk to Jeff.”

She bites her lip, looking even more worried than before, but all she says is, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Jeff and Chrissy trade an indecipherable look and then Jeff dutifully follows Steve to his car and climbs in. Before he starts the engine, he pulls the envelope out of his pocket and hands it to Jeff.

“What’s this?” Jeff asks.

“Read it,” Steve replies, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot so he doesn’t have to see whatever expression crosses Jeff’s face as he reads.

It’s silent for a few minutes aside from The Clash filtering quietly tinnily from the radio, but then Jeff says, “so, he finally did it.”

Steve’s fingers clench on the steering wheel at the vague answer to the question he hasn’t yet asked. “Is it some sort of joke?” Steve grits out, still unable to look at Jeff’s face.

“No, man,” Jeff replies, doing that same shoulder clasp thing he’d done last time he’d been in Steve’s car while he was upset. “He’s just been working through some stuff.”

“So he’s…” he finally shifts his gaze toward Jeff, hoping to convey his question without having to say it aloud.

“Seems so,” Jeff replies.

And Steve shudders, all those same feelings he’d been working so hard to suppress bubbling back to the surface, the most dangerous of all being hope.

“Are you going to go?” Jeff asks, voice even enough not to show his opinion on the decision one way or another.

Steve swallows, throat dry. “I don’t know.”

They don’t talk for the rest of the drive, and when he calls Chrissy later that night, she asks the same thing.

“Are you going to go?” she asks breathlessly, like she’s hanging on his every word.

Steve sighs. “He said he might be gay, Chris. What if we go out and he’s wrong?”

Left unmentioned is the niggling voice in the back of his head still insisting that the whole thing is some sort of cruel prank to get back at him. He’d lied, and strung him along, and gotten him hurt. No matter how many times Eddie apologizes, Steve knows he’s not really the one that should be.

“What if he’s right?” she asks.

Steve knows, deep down in his bones, that he’s going to go, just at the chance that Chrissy’s right, that Eddie’s right, that Jeff’s right. Steve desperately wants to be wrong. 

***

Steve doesn’t show any outward appearance of having received the letter. Eddie watches, obsessively trying to catch even the barest hint of what he thinks of the note– if, when he knocks on the Harrington’s front door, he’ll open it.

He keeps looking, and looking, and finally, blessedly, when Eddie looks, Steve’s looking back. Their eyes lock, and such a wave of relief courses through Eddie that he, like a fucking idiot, waves at him. Steve stares, mouth open, and does absolutely nothing back.

Eddie looks down at the table, whole body aflame with mortification, hair dangling messily into Doug’s mashed potatoes.

“Dude,” Doug says, shoving Eddie’s shoulder, forcing him away from his precious lunch.

“You good?” Jeff asks, leaning across the table to poke at Eddie’s bowed head like it’s potentially diseased roadkill he found on the side of the street.

“He hates me!” Eddie whines, turning his head just enough to glance towards Steve’s table, spitting a chunk of hair out of his mouth.

Steve’s not there at all anymore.

“Harrington?” Gareth questions around the bite of apple lodged in his throat. “Aren’t you trying to steal his girlfriend?”

“Of course no—not anymore!” Eddie stutters, turning his head the other direction to glare at Gareth instead.

For his part, Gareth just looks down at him, supremely unimpressed. “Uh huh,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet even when very obviously fed up. “Is this more secret bullshit you’re refusing to tell me?”

“It’s not my secret!” Eddie hisses, finally removing his head from the table so he can crouch on it instead, leaning over Gareth like a gargoyle. “And I promised!”

“Bet you told Wayne,” Gareth mutters.

“Oh my god, I told Wayne!” Eddie cries, dropping off the bench entirely to crawl under the table where he belongs. It’s not like there’s anyone in the room right now that he wants to impress—he already scared Harrington off.

“Dude,” is all Jeff says, peering under the table to look down at him judgmentally. “Chrissy is going to kill you.”

Eddie clutches his hair hard enough that it hurts. “It’s Wayne! He doesn’t count,” Eddie whines, “does he?”

Jeff snorts, kicking his foot out until the toe of his sneaker connects softly with Eddie’s kneecap. “He doesn’t count,” he starts, continuing before Eddie’s even slumped with relief, “to you.”

When Eddie slinks out from beneath the table, Steve’s spot is still empty, and Chrissy’s sitting there, glaring across the cafeteria at Eddie like she can just sense that he didn’t keep his vow of secrecy.

God, girls are scary.

He avoids looking in her direction the rest of lunch, picking at his own potatoes and mushy peas just for something to do.

Steve’s not going to open the door—he knows that. But, even still, he wakes up early on Friday morning to sneak into Mrs. Johnson’s yard to carefully cut a few of her sunflowers, ducking low enough that the bushes in front of her windows will obscure him.

When he’s done, he’s got five perfect sunflowers, tied together with the brown shoelace he’d stolen from a pair of Wayne’s old boots.

He leaves them in the kitchen, awkwardly propped into a bowl full of water since the Munson’s aren’t the kind of family to own a vase, or even a tall enough glass, apparently.

By the time Wayne gets home from the graveyard shift, Eddie’s elbow-deep in a trash bag in the back of his van. Wayne peers through the propped-open doors, eyebrows already raised as Eddie freezes, hand in the metaphorical cookie jar.

“What’re ya doing, boy?” Wayne asks.

Eddie stares, brain full of ants and TV static as he fumbles for an answer. What comes out of his mouth is “I asked Steve out!”

Wayne’s lips quirk up, and he’s smirking at Eddie as if to say, see? told ya, the smug bastard. But all he says is, “is that so?” drawling and easy like he’s not acting all-knowing and superior.

Eddie groans and takes his hand out of the garbage bag to run it through his hair and pull. “Or I left him a note?” he says, gut churning as Wayne’s face drops to his more customary frown. “Oh my god, he’s not going to show!”

“Then why’re you cleaning your van out?”

Eddie puffs up, glaring back at Wayne now. “Well I’m going to show up, Wayne!” he replies, voice shrill. “I’m a man of my word.”

Wayne snorts when Eddie calls himself a man, just like he always does, but his lips are quirked up again, looking almost proud as he replies, “good man,” with only a slightly mocking intonation. “Want some help?”

They get all the trash out in a matter of minutes. When it becomes clear that the vacuum cleaner can’t reach no matter how close they park the van, Wayne comes back out with the broom from the kitchen and they sweep as much debris as they can from inside before Eddie steals the comforter from his own bed and lays it across the back carpet, masking the weird stains.

Wayne finishes it off with a spritz of his own rarely-used cologne, covering up any remaining funky smells. Even so, Eddie elects to leave the windows rolled down to air it out for as long as possible.

When Wayne notices his commandeered shoelace around the sunflowers, he doesn’t say a thing.

Then, he’s forced to go to school, wiling away the hours until he’s standing in front of the Harrington’s front door, boots shined for the first time in his life, sunflowers clutched in shaking hands, van parked neatly behind him, hair brushed into submission. He’d even used his fancy conditioner, thoughts of that half-remembered first letter waxing poetic about his hair fueling his action. 

All for a boy who won’t answer the door.

But, Eddie’s a man of his word, so he knocks.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

He waits such a long time that he jumps when the door opens, breath catching as he looks at Steve Harrington, face-to-face for the first time since that disastrous day in his living room. His mostly-healed eye aches with remembered pain, his ribs cold with the absence of Steve’s hands.

He’s missed looking at him.

Steve’s in light-wash jeans, hair perfectly coiffed, wearing a green sweater that makes the gold in his eyes pop, even in the dim light from the Harrington’s porch light. He looks good, put together enough for a first date, casual enough to just be his everyday clothes.

Eddie’s heartbeat flickers with something that feels alarmingly like hope.

“Uh, hey,” Eddie says, finally breaking the awkward silence.

He smiles, trying to be charming, but he’s never done this before, doesn’t know how to contort his face. He holds out the sunflowers, arm awkwardly extending, hoping desperately that his offering will be accepted.

Steve stares down at them, hand still clutching the door like he’s one second away from slamming it closed in Eddie’s face. Eddie holds his breath, heartbeat ratcheting up from the oxygen deprivation.

Steve reaches out, his fingers brushing Eddie’s as he tries to take the flowers from him. Eddie’s fingers stay clenched around the stems for a second too long, hand following the flowers trajectory toward Steve’s own chest until Eddie forces his hand open and lets it drop uncomfortably back to his side.

Steve stares down at them, leaning down to take a sniff. Eddie winces—they don’t smell like much, just dirt and nebulous green things. But Steve smiles, just a tiny, little thing that hits Eddie’s body like electroshock therapy.

“Thank you.” Steve says quietly, not looking away from the sunflowers as he asks, “come inside while I put them in some water?”

Steve swings the door open wider, and Eddie slides past him and into the Harrington’s house. As Steve wanders further inside, Eddie stands in the entrance—foyer?—feeling remarkably out of place. Even from here, he can see enough negative space to house twenty-odd people, a vaulted ceiling, and is that a chandelier? Eddie doesn’t step a toe off the mat beneath his feet, afraid his very presence will stain the perfect white interior.

He shouldn’t be here. Places like this aren’t for the Munson’s of the world. They’re for royalty, kings and queens, and all the upper crust that spits down on the rest of them. But when Steve comes back, sans sunflowers, he’s smiling just a little, tromping his own shoes over the white carpet like he doesn’t give a shit.

Maybe he doesn’t belong here either. Maybe it’s possible to carve out a space for him in the Munson’s shitty trailer, however small.

“Alright, Munson,” he says, still smiling just this side of awkward. “What’re we doing?”

As Eddie holds Steve Harrington’s own front door open for him to step through, Eddie’s mind’s buzzing with maybes.

***

Eddie’s van smells like mothballs and cologne, and the radio’s quietly playing the sort of generic pop music Steve usually mumbles along to on his way to school. But, Eddie’s fingers are twitching against the wheel, and he hasn’t said a word since they’d climbed in, so Steve sits on his own hands and keeps his mouth shut.

The longer the silence drags on, the more Steve regrets ever opening the door at all. Eddie pulls into Hawkins’ drive-in, and buys their tickets and two bags of popcorn. Steve’s hand clenches in his lap, Eddie’s words to Chrissy all that time ago running through his head—we can go to the drive-in and hold hands the whole time.

“I hope this is okay?” Eddie says, finally breaking the silence as he spins the dial to the correct channel to catch the movie. “I wasn’t sure if you liked horror, but this is all that’s playing this weekend, and I’ve been wanting to watch it so—”

“It’s fine,” Steve replies, and it is.

He’s never been much for horror beyond putting it on for dates so he has a built-in excuse to reach out. But, he’s not squeamish, and maybe those same thoughts are running through Eddie’s head: an excuse to reach out and touch.

But, as the title card flashes SLEEPAWAY CAMP in big, boxy font, all Eddie does is reach into his popcorn bag and stuff a handful into his mouth. Steve follows suit, the buttery kernels turning to ash on his tongue.

He watches with little enthusiasm as the stupid teenagers on screen fool around and get torn apart. Eddie makes little comments throughout the movie, but there’s nothing Steve can grasp onto.

What does one say to, “whoa, blood fountain,” or “god, that kid’s a douche,” or, “they should’ve killed him sooner.”

Steve still tries, humming and nodding along and verbalizing his own agreements. Eddie never responds, just keeps stuffing his mouth with popcorn until the bag’s empty. Steve stares down at his own mostly-full bag and wonders if the separate bags were just to make sure they didn’t accidentally brush hands. 

He hands his own popcorn over, and Eddie grabs it twitchily, muttering a “thanks, dude,” without really looking at Steve at all.

Steve just wants to go home, crawl into his own bed, and forget this whole thing ever happened.

But he just sits there, silent as the movie plays on. He doesn’t understand the end, but he missed so much of the beginning and middle that he barely questions it.

When it’s over, Eddie turns the dial back to that same, nondescript station that doesn’t fit him at all, fingers clenching hard enough on the wheel that Steve can hear it creak under the strain. Steve turns away, to look out the window, throat clogged up with feelings he doesn’t want to think about.

The longer this date drags on, the more excruciatingly clear it becomes that whatever is driving Eddie to this, it’s not him returning Steve’s feelings. This isn’t how dates go when you’re excited about them, there’s nothing clicking into place–it doesn’t even seem like Eddie’s trying.

He feels small, and sad, and every minute that passes with Eddie saying absolutely nothing at all only makes Steve feel more like a charity case that Eddie’s taken pity on. 

He never should have listened to Chrissy and Jeff’s encouragement. They’d both been so hopeful that he’d caved, but they’re not the ones stuck in the devastatingly uncomfortable moment. It’s just him and Eddie, living with the fact that Steve’s got a crush on a boy that can never like him back.

There’s no coming back from this, no matter how nice Eddie tries to be about it. Because he is nice, no matter how he’s been acting the past few weeks.

Steve’s the problem—always has been, always will be.

So, he stews in the silence, watching the same familiar buildings pass him by like it’s the last time he’ll ever see them. And maybe it will be, if Eddie decides to be not so nice. This was all so catastrophically, unbelievably stupid from that very first letter all the way to this moment, stuck in a van with a boy that won’t even look at him. 

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize they’re going the wrong way until Eddie’s pulling into a familiar clearing in the quarry. His headlights illuminate the skid marks Steve’s car had made in the dirt when he��d screeched to a halt to stop Jason Carver from rearranging his face.

Eddie slides into park much more levelly and cuts the engine. The quiet is absolute, made worse by the darkness surrounding them. Steve can hear the crinkle of Eddie shifting on his seat, the sound of his throat as he gulps like he’s about to go off to war.

 “I thought—” Eddie starts before petering off as his voice breaks. Steve listens to him take a few shuddering breaths before starting again. “I thought we could star gaze?”

Steve sighs, slumping back into his seat, so unbelievably tired. “Eddie—”

“Unless you don’t want to!” Eddie rushes out. “I just thought…”

Steve would kill to know what he’s thinking, but whatever it is, Eddie doesn’t pick up his trailing sentence, just leaves it hanging in the silence between them. Steve sighs again, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, desperate to keep an even keel.

“Look, Eddie” Steve starts, turning toward Eddie. He can see the silhouette of his frame hunched over in the driver’s seat, but his face is a black void for Steve to project upon. It makes him brave. “You don’t have to do this. You, like, tried it out, right? And it didn’t work out.”

“Steve—”

“It’s fine, Eddie,” Steve cuts in, exhausted. “You can just drop me off at home, and we can go our separate ways.”

Eddie makes a sound like a strangled cat, and then his silhouette lunges across the distance between their seats. Steve jerks back, head banging painfully into the window as Eddie’s mouth mashes against his, more teeth than lips.

PART 19

Shoutout, once again, to my beta reader and friend @queenie-ofthe-void for this one!!! I struggled for weeks on the date, and then they said, "what if you just make it as awkward as possible," and then I wrote this entire date in a day. Truly a muse for me <3<3<3

[soov]

RUMOUR HAS iT。 park sunghoon

princess fem reader & prince sunghoon ᗢ 1OOO words ━━ fluff ꕀ royal!au, arranged marriage, repost ⌗ WARNiNGS pet names, kissing.

“I suppose you know about the rumours by now?”

The prince’s deep voice tugged you back to reality, making his presence known by leaning onto the same balustrade as you.

“Why do you think I would’ve called you here if I didn’t?” You asked back, to which he responded with a smile, looking at the scenery in front of him.

Sunghoon appeared somewhat unkempt. His hair dismissed the usual slicked-back style, soft black bangs falling on his eyes. He had a white linen puffed-sleeve shirt on, with the first three buttons undone. Once, he had admitted that he owned twelve of the shirts, them being his favorite piece of clothing.

As your stare lowered, his high-waisted black pants and boots piqued your curiosity, “What is the reason behind the informal clothes?”

“Why the question?” He turned his head in your direction. “You also have an informal attire on, my love.” Sunghoon still had a cheeky beam plastered across his face, attentive eyes observing the way you toyed with his sleeves.

“My maids said that this color and dress would look good on me.” You reasoned and pushed one of the puffy sleeves slightly up his arm, tracing the delicate veins enmeshed beneath his flesh. “I asked because I only see you wearing this outfit when it’s your birthday or a commemoration.”

“They were right; you do look good.” He seemed to be enjoying how you were caressing his arm. His muscles flexed and relaxed every time you touched him, making him feel like you were painting a masterpiece across his bare, pale skin. “And well, it is a happy day for me.”

“Even with the rumours?”

Right. The rumours. The gossip that spread around the castle like wildfire about the soon-to-be King and Queen that didn’t truly love each other, only keeping up their looks because of diplomatic problems. That, and the supposed cheating accusations, claiming that you were seeing a close friend behind the prince’s back.

In part, it would’ve been true if the false talk started a few months ago — though only the comment about real love being absent in your relationship. You used to think that the boy was a spoiled little brat who leeched off his parents’ high status. Yet, you fell right into his trap when your arranged marriage was announced.

With his eyebrows tied together and the smallest pout, Sunghoon gave you his trademark confused face. “Why would they matter? We love each other and will get married soon, isn’t it? Let them say whatever.”

The raw and honest responses from Sunghoon were one of the many factors that brought him to the center of your heart. His unfiltered remarks, reminding you of your infinite worth (his words, not yours), slowly guided you to the path without return that is loving him.

You huffed out a breath. There were a bunch of servants whispering and stroddling through the garden close to the bandstand where the both of you were. If Sunghoon wasn’t right next to you, you would have cussed them out, even knowing that you couldn’t. They were your fiancé’s people, and briefly, they would be yours too.

“I don’t appreciate how they talk so lowly about us…” You mumbled, chin on your palm. Neither of you were big on PDA, that was a fact, but you wondered if it was that bad to make the word even more convincing. “I just wanted to shut their mouths and show them that we long for each other.”

“Do you, now?” Sunghoon grinned, embracing you from behind as his pointy nose went to your neck. “We could give them a little sample of our love.” He muttered, the low timbre of his voice being more than enough proof of your effect on him.

You nearly choked on your own breath, a lump closing your throat. “I thought you were uncomfortable with showing affection in public?” The words left your mouth in a nervous whisper when he gently turned you in his hold to face you.

“Princess,” he began, the pet name almost sounding sardonic due to your title, “that was seven months ago. I hated you at the time, you know it. But I only want to kiss you right now.”

There was something in his eyes, blended with the dark brown hues and the sparkly melted stars that captivated and hypnotized you. Sunghoon was so intense that you could never bring yourself to break eye contact, or reply coherently, when you were drowning in his gaze. A nod was all that came out of you.

The prince chuckled, the act so genuine and lovesick that your knees threatened to falter, “You’re so annoyingly beautiful.” He voiced, and leaning in, his lips parted to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

With a gasp, you carded your fingers through his raven hair. It had gotten so long in such a short time. The only place that your hands went to during your kisses was in between his locks.

A soft rumble escaped his chest, body beginning to relax when you played with his hair. In a second, Sunghoon cupped a side of your face in his palm, still being smug enough to slide the other to the small of your back, gripping that part. A smirk curled his lips up as he felt the low cut back of the dress, tracing your skin like you did to his arm earlier.

His actions induced a shiver to run down your spine, and you couldn’t do much except feel yourself covered in goosebumps. Softly, gently, slowly — that was how your fiancé enjoyed kissing you.

“Sunghoon…” Tugging at the loose collar of his shirt, you tried to regain your composure after the scandalous scene. “Did they go yet?”

Your breathy voice calling out his name only fueled the pure adoration the boy felt. “Not yet.” He hummed, glancing at the flustered maids that giggled amongst themselves. “Seems like they’re slow walkers.”

“At least that will make them stop talking.” You grumbled.

He squeezed you tighter in his arms, almost trying to express the extent of his feelings in the way he held you. “It surely will.”

And it didn’t, since, now, rumour has it that the prince is too greedy to go for only a single kiss.

𔓕　LETTERS FROM REi ━━ i wish prince sunghoon was real

2024 © SOOV

[pixeltwix]

👁‍🗨Ciphertology & The Dixons👁‍🗨

Sooooo…Emma May’s family was involved in a cult, right? Let me elaborate. As a fellow creative I have been known on many occasions to forget details big and small about my own world, but names? No, names are never something I tend to duplicate unless for a very specific thematic or world building reason. So color me stoked when I was curiously learning about Bill’s cult arc in the 1950’s and found one of his first followers was a young girl with the surname, you guessed it, Dixon!!

Considering Alex Hirsch is very purposeful with things and little hints, while also leaving the audience to figure things out for themselves while he sits back and laughs, I can’t help but feel the surname Dixon is a bit TOO coincidental in this instance. From what we see, Ciphertology and the followers were a mash of a bunch of real life cult references while doing the usual Hirsch thing of filtering Bill into a concept perfectly well.

All in all it’s a very interesting thing, but what I found more interesting were the people involved. Sure you have the puppet leader, Silas Birchtree and a bunch of other out there names, but amongst sits a simple ‘Madeline Dixon’….. Alex Hirsch I’m going to screAM :D

From what we learn, after the cult is forcibly disbanded by the US government and every trace of the town is wiped off of maps and history books, the people are spread throughout the country and given opportunities to start life over again. Not everyone followed that however and some continued to follow the Bill Cipher cult. And honestly I can’t help finding myself bouncing back to the very concept that is-

What if Emma May Dixon grew up in a recovering cult family? What if her family still believed in the cults teachings like some and practiced it in secret at home? And if that is true how am I meant to feel towards the idea that her future husband, Fiddleford McGucket, would become a cult leader himself all because of the very thing that was the foundation of her own cultish upbringing?

Honestly if that’s what Alex was shooting for, I’m calling him a genius cause that’s such a fascinating idea to work with. The concept that Bill has personally affected and rooted himself so deeply into the show and it’s characters that even those we don’t get to see still have dealt with him to some degree.

It just all feels too perfect too. The surname Dixon implies enough, thanks to Alex’s upfront and to the point naming, that Emma May too is a southerner like her husband. Or at the very least she’s in that farmy side of the country. And where did Ciphertology come from? Orchard Lake, Kansas. Madeline Dixon very well could be Emma May’s aunt or older sister considering the cult began in 1952. And assuming Em’s the same age as Fiddleford and the Stan twins then we can assume vaaaaageuly that she’d be born in 1955. Meaning she’d be either growing up in that recovering environment or indoctrinated into it.

We can assume well enough then that she didn’t follow the cults teachings considering she seems well adjusted with her family, living in Palo Alto, but it also kinda reaffirms why she’d be so quick to throw divorce on the table once she sees Fiddleford’s memory wiped condition. That on top of we can only assume his behavior was alarming and erratic and a far cry from the personality of her husband that she was used to (especially when you consider bRO made a homicidal pterodactyl robot because he was so distraught and upset towards the idea of being divorced..like yeah man..that might solidify her decision my guy..)

But if she ever saw the symbol of Bill’s eye or anything in relation to him anywhere in Gravity Falls?? Especially the Society of the Blind eye symbol spray painted all over? After either learning to fear Bill or worship him in her upbringing depending on what their family did after the cult was disbanded? I wouldn’t blame her for high tailing it out of there and worrying for her and her sons life- (Fiddleford..Emma May..I am your biggest fans, but y’all have me bonkers sometimes) But also consider how most ex cult members naturally want to give the very opposite traumatic life that they lived to their child? If Emma May were to see semblances of what she relates to Ciphertology in Gravity Falls, I don’t have a hard time believing she was getting tF out of there for the sake of Tate’s well being & future

In short- hi, I now believe Emma May’s family was in a cult and the very idea of that will ruminate with me for awhile :D But also double hi?? Madeline DIxon looks vaguely similar to how I envisioned and draw my Emma May design? Coincidence, I think nOT :P

[emotionoitme]

i didn't know (2)

i didn't know - skinshape

this is the second post for this chapter because of tumblr's block limit. read the first one here

“this one?” she holds up a silky black fabric, “or…this one?” it looks the same, but red. 

he stares at the options blankly for a second.

“i, uh…the red one?” he answers cluelessly. either way he’s gonna wanna rip it off of her the second she puts it on. 

she gives him a look to elaborate. 

“i don’t know,” he sighs, “you could wear a garbage bag to dinner and look good.”

“oh, that would be cute,” she rolls her eyes, setting the options back down on the bed. 

it was one of those rare days where carmen had taken off work to relax, sprawled out on her bed—shirtless with unruly curls. 

“try ‘em on for me,” he suggests, folding his arms behind his head. 

her eyes dart to the bulge of his biceps, his armpit hair, having absolutely no idea why the sight is so enticing.

“mkay,” she smiles, pulling the hem of her borrowed shirt up over her head, revealing nothing besides panties underneath. 

“fuck,” he groans, enunciating the word sharply, graciously taking in the sight in front of him. “come over here.”

this puts a grin on her face. no matter how many times she does it, he always has the same reaction. she begins to saunter over to his side of the bed, watching how he tilts his chin up like he’s expecting a kiss. 

“i could just wear this tonight,” she suggests, trailing her finger over his jaw. 

he gives a hum of approval. “except we wouldn’t leave the house,” caressing her hip gently. 

“we could have a night in,” she suggests. he shakes his head. 

“we always do. i wanna take you out.”

“yeah?” she leans in, placing a gentle kiss to his lips, “you gonna wine and dine me?” 

“mhm. give me a real kiss.” 

she giggles and leans back in again, giving him another soft, barely-there peck before pulling away again. he tightens his jaw and snaps the band of her panties, making her release a small yelp. 

“more,” he demands. 

“so needy,” she teases, tracing her finger over his lip, catching the bottom one and pushing it down to show his teeth. she loves using his own words against him. 

“fuck off,” he laughs, turning his head away. 

“i’ll give you a real one on our date.”

“i have to wait that long?” 

“mhm,” she picks up the black dress and walks in front of the mirror, holding it in front of her body, “you can work on your self restraint.”

“i have plenty of self restraint,” he argues, sitting up onto his forearms.

“yeah right,” she slips into the fabric and threads her arms through the straps. 

“oh, and you do? you came onto me within the first month of living here.”

“i would’ve done it earlier if you were home more often,” she admits unashamedly. “what do you think? cute?” turning so he could see the front of the dress. 

“you-,” he stops in his tracks, eyes flickering over the way the fabric hugs her figure, “i wouldn’t say cute.” hot is more fitting, “but yeah, i like it.” 

she rolls her eyes, and slips the straps back down her shoulders. 

“but y’know that means you have less self restraint than me, right?” he asks, revisiting the disagreement, “because i was gonna keep it…professional.” 

“professional, my ass. i saw the way you would look at me when i first moved in.” 

“wh-how would i look at you?” 

“how you’re looking at me right now.”

oh. his eyes snap back up to her face, having been caught red handed. it’s not his fault she looks good. and after all, he is just a man. 

she turns away from him and shimmies the dress down her hips. 

“okay. fine,” he concedes, craning his neck to watch her breasts in the mirror, “but i did restrain myself.” 

“please,” she scoffs, “i had you wrapped around my finger the second i got here.” she turns back to him, and watches his eyes flicker down her body, then back up. 

he takes a moment to respond, a look of contemplation on his face. she wasn’t wrong, at all. but he still felt the need to contest. 

“tell you what,” he sits up, “we can put it to the test.”

she gives him a questioning look, tilting her head to the side. 

“no touching. no kissing…first one to break loses.” he has a smug smirk on his face.

“you’re not funny,” she says, unamused.

“i’m being serious. you say i don’t have restraint, but i know you don’t.” 

“you’re gonna eat those words. i’m gonna kick your ass at this game,” she retorts. 

“yeah?”

“mhm. winner gets head.” 

“fine by me,” he nods. either way, he’ll win. 

“i’m still gonna hold your hand tonight, though.” she pouts.

“yeah. we’ll just keep it uh…PG.” 

she snorts out a laugh at this. “PG?” 

“mhm.” he nods. “family friendly.” 

“okay. well get out of my room then. cause i kind of wanna pounce on you.”

carmen lets out a soft laugh. this was going to be an easy game.

-

…or so he thought. 

up until the moment she came down the stairs in that fucking red dress. 

it hugs her curves like a glove, dawning dainty straps and a plunging neckline. his brain actually stutters for a moment watching her descend the stairs, just silently staring at her with eyes wide as saucers. 

a grin forms on the girl’s face at his stunned expression. she put the dress on expecting a reaction, but wasn’t expecting speechless. 

“jesus christ,” is the first thing that exits his mouth, and it comes out strained. 

“you like it?” she asks, giving a slow turn so he could admire it at every angle. 

“it’s-yeah…you look…amazing.” 

“bet you wanna touch, huh?” she teases with a grin on her face. 

“i’m-yeah. fuck yeah, i do.” he exhales, standing from the couch, walking closer to her. 

“well, you can,” she reaches forward to straighten out his suit jacket, “if you keep it PG.”

he lets out a small chuckle at this, placing a hand on her hip, stroking his thumb against her. he studies her face. the way she’s done her makeup is classy and light. she’s wearing a red lipstick that makes him wonder what it would look like smeared across her face. 

“what’s up with your tie?” she asks, breaking him out of his trance. she’s furrowing her brows at the knot. 

“oh, i, uh…i can’t really tie one,” he admits bashfully. “i’ll do it for you,” she gives him a soft smile and reaches to undo the knot. 

the way her fingers brush against his neck leaves his skin feeling hot. 

like most things between them recently, it feels very domestic, having her tie his tie. he can’t stop staring at her as she does it, either, transfixed with the way she’s all dolled up for him. 

“there,” she loops the knot, and pushes it up to tighten, “very handsome.” her hand comes to the side of his face, and she strokes her thumb over his jaw. the way their eyes lock feel more intimate than carmen expects, feeling as if he’s baring his soul under her gaze. he wants to kiss her so bad, inwardly cursing his juvenile challenge he posed hours ago. cursing the fantasies that flood his mind of keeping her at home—providing for her, having her tie his ties and pack his lunches and have his babies. cursing the cruel way in which the world seems to rip away all that brings him joy. 

“you, uh…ready to go?” he clears his throat, pulling away from her, turning his head to hide a pained expression. 

“yeah. let me just grab my wallet.”

“leave it,” he commands, “you won’t need it.” 

a slight look of surprise forms on her face, morphing into a smile as the implication seeps in. 

“just wait for a second,” she turns to walk to the stairs, “it’s on my nightstand.” 

carmen grabs her wrist with a “hey,” stopping the girl in her tracks. 

“what did i just say?” he chides lowly. “leave it. let’s go.”

she turns to face him, taking in his serious expression. stern and handsome—it makes her want to push. but she figures she can save it for later, after she wins. 

“yes sir,” she responds, gazing up at him endearingly. 

he’s almost a little surprised at her obedience. feels himself puff up a little at the name. 

without another word, he opens the door and offers his arm. she takes it happily. 

-

the entire date ends up being a lot fancier than she ever would have expected. 

carmen had explained to her, as they rode in the back of the private car he had ordered, that he wanted to make tonight really special. partially to make up for the fact that he hadn’t been gentlemanly enough to take her out on a proper date before tonight, but mostly just because he wanted to spoil her with some good food before she leaves. 

“now, uh…i know you said you didn’t wanna go to my restaurant. but i was thinking we could just stop in so you could see it.”

“n-no, i do wanna go,” she asserts quickly, “i’d love to see it. i was just a little…embarrassed.”

he lets out a small chuckle at this.

“you don’t need to be. i’ll get us a private table and everything.” he nods, reaching over to rest a hand on her thigh. “no one will bother us.”

“yeah?” it sounds promising. 

“yeah, baby. i’ll take care of it.”

he pulls out his phone to make a call. 

it makes her stomach flutter a little bit.

when they arrive, she’s a bit taken aback by the bear. she already knew it was a nice place—though she wasn’t expecting the type of michelin star dining that leaves people speechless. 

they’re seated the moment they walk in, and escorted to a table near the back of the restaurant, slightly hidden by the thick foliage of a potted plant. 

carmen pulls her chair out for her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before sitting down across from her. 

“this is…it’s beautiful in here, carm.” 

“yeah?” he can’t help the boost her words give him, looking around a bit, “you think so?” 

“it’s incredible,” she nods, “i had no idea it would be so fancy.” 

he lets out a small chuckle at this, placing his hand atop hers. he goes to thank her, but is interrupted by the greeting of their waitress. 

the girl smiles in reply, feeling bad for the clearly nervous employee that has to serve the big boss. 

they order signature cocktails that cost so much the prices aren’t even listed on the menu. she supposes this follows the premise that if you have to ask for the price of something, you can’t afford it. it makes her grateful for her wallet left atop the nightstand. 

“what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you’re back home?” he asks, taking a sip of the old fashioned he had ordered. it’s easier to talk about when he’s not thinking about how soon it’ll be a reality. 

“go to the beach,” she responds quietly, after a moment, “and get in the water. even if it’s freezing cold.” 

“yeah?” a smile forms on his face at the mental image. 

“yeah, i uh…like chicago. but i really do miss home. and i miss my friends.”  

“totally.” he gives her a knowing nod. 

“carmy, do you-” she sighs, fidgeting with her ring, “can i call you? when i’m back?” 

“you fuckin’ better.” he responds quickly. 

the girl smiles at the sternness of his response, and reaches out to touch his hand. 

“okay,” she nods, “good. cause i’m gonna miss you.” 

“yeah, it’s…it’s not gonna be easy.” understatement of the year. “it’ll work out though. i’ll come visit you or somethin’.” 

and despite the weight of the circumstances, she smiles at this, and brings his hand up to her lips, placing a slow, tender kiss to the side of it. just wanting to show her appreciation. “you’d like it, i think. it’s really different from here.”

“yeah?”

“mhm. and my friends would freak meeting you.”

“why’s that?” he raises his eyebrows. 

“cause i mean, look at you. i’d probably have to fight them off.” 

carmen lets out a soft laugh at this, shaking his head in disbelief. “y’know, i’ve thought the same thing about you? just wanna keep you to myself.” 

she smiles, and moves from kissing his hand to kissing his fingers. 

carmen rests his thumb on her cheek, tightening his jaw as she moves onto his middle finger. how she places another kiss, pressing her lips to him, holding his wrist gently and looking up at him through her eyelashes.

the sight is kind of erotic. 

“you, uh…” he clears his throat, shuffling forward in his seat, “you giving up on our game?” 

“no,” she has this innocent look on her face, like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing, “this is PG.” carmy feels the immense urge to shove his fingers in her mouth and make her suck. 

“nothing about that is… stop,” he grunts as she softly bites him. it’s clear that she’s trying to get him to fold. and she’s right on track so far. 

“fine. you’re no fun.” she pouts, releasing his hand and sitting straight. 

“i’m not gonna lose to you.” 

“yes you are,” she smiles, resting her chin in her hand. 

his eyes flicker down to the strain of her breasts against the neckline of the dress. maybe he is. 

“nah.” he shakes his head. “no way.”  

her gaze roams over him, and she bites at her lip. 

“well i might. you look so slutty in that suit.” 

“i-…what?” 

“you heard me.” 

“i look…slutty?” there’s a perplexed expression on his face. 

“super slutty. you’re so getting it when we’re home.” 

“jesus,” he exhales a laugh, averting his eyes from her face, “you drunk off that one cocktail?” 

“no!” she smiles, rolling her eyes. “i just thought you’d wanna know. i can't stop looking at you. you’re giving me dirty thoughts.” 

he meets her eyes again with a smile, and puts his hand flat on the table, reaching out for her. when she gives him her hand, he glances at the red nail polish adorning her fingers. 

“i, uh… i can't stop looking at you either.” he runs his thumb over her skin. “i’m…crazy about you. you know that, right?” 

“i know,” she purrs, softly raking her nails over his skin softly, looking at him through her eyelashes. 

it him feel a little feral. he takes a deep breath in through his nose. 

“so, you can give up on this stupid challenge already?” his tone is low. 

“no way,” she pouts, “i want my prize.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. and don’t forget this was your idea in the first place.” 

he goes to defend himself when he’s cut off by a familiar chuckle. 

“well, shit, welcome back!” 

the girl freezes, staring straight ahead at carmen. the voice is easily recognizable. she hesitantly turns her head to put the name to a face. 

“richie,” carmen greets unenthusiastically, giving him a small nod. 

“you just can’t get enough of us or what?” richie chuckles, glancing at the girl quickly. he does kind of a double take, snapping his head back to her with wide eyes. 

she sheepishly meets his gaze, trying to not crumble under the intense look he’s giving her. 

“this is, uh…” carmen narrows his eyes at the man, “this is my girlfriend, -” he introduces her name. 

richie blinks slowly, like he’s trying to process, repeating her name. testing how it feels in his mouth.

“uh, nice to-…nice to meet you. i’m richie.” he thrusts his hand forward. 

“nice to meet you, richie,” she smiles, giving him a gentle shake. this is the most intense eye contact she’s experienced in a while. the silence is tense, and he’s staring at her with this perplexed admiration. 

“you’re…wow,” richie chuckes, “do you have an older sister or something?” 

“jesus christ, richie! go fuck off back to the front you asshole,” carmen snaps, face growing slightly red. “hey, i’m sorry about him,” richie apologizes to the girl, “he forgets that this is a nice establishment where we don’t use crass language.” his eyebrows are raised as he smooths his jacket. 

she opens her mouth to respond, but carmy’s scolding cuts her off, snapping at the man to go do his job and “stop fucking around”. 

“hey, i just wanted to come introduce myself to your lovely date,” richie puts his hands up in defense, “can i get you anything else, sweetheart?” he asks the girl, “you want another one of those?” pointing to her cocktail. 

“maybe after dinner, thank you,” she responds politely. 

“ahh okay, i like the manners! you could teach your little boyfriend over here a thing or two.”

the man has a goofy charm about him, and although carmen is getting more irate by the second, she’s amused. 

“i’m trying. but he’s kind of stubborn.” her eyes flicker over to carmen, giving him a playful smile. his frown softens at this. 

“ha! don’t i know it! last week he-”

“richie,” carmy interrupts, “can you go check on our order?” 

“carm,” the girl groans. they didn’t place their order yet. he gives her a pleading look to just go along with it. 

and whether it’s the use of his nickname or the intonation of her voice, this look of recognition washes over richie’s face and his eyes widen. he looks at carmy, then back at her. a laugh bubbles out, and he slaps a hand over his mouth, clearing this throat. his face is red.

the girl almost dies of embarrassment on the spot, knowing exactly which dots are connecting in his head. 

“okay! yeah. well. nice meeting you. i’m just gonna…” he gestures behind him, backing away with a stifled grin on his face. 

when she looks back at carmen, his head is in his hand and his eyes are tightly shut. when richie is out of sight and he finally looks back up to her, there’s a pained looked on his face. 

“i’m-…jesus christ, i'm sorry about that.” he exhales. 

the girl feels dumbfounded by the situation, and doesn’t know what to say. 

she tries to keep it in, but bursts into giggles. there’s a brief look of surprise on the man’s face which forms into a small smile. he’s giving her the kind of bewildered look that says “i’m glad you found that funny because i was about 3 seconds away from getting physical”.

she rests her head in her hand, trying to take deep breaths and stop her laughing. it doesn’t really work. 

carmy’s expression of bewilderment softens and he begins to grin watching her. 

she finally gets control over herself and straightens, huge smile on her red face, wiping a stray tear from her eye with a big sigh. 

carmen thinks it’s probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. and there’s this sharp pain in his chest that feels like love but also like loss. like he’s discovered this secret to life that’s about to be stolen and never given back. 

his thoughts are interrupted by their waitress setting plates down in front of them. she introduces the dish, and tells them that chef sydney plated it specially for them. 

the girl has a big smile on her face, as she raves about how nice everything is, but carmy can’t help but feel a bit sad for the rest of the night. 

-

they return home hand in hand. the chill november air smells crisp like winter. leaves in the gutters rustle with the gentle breeze. 

as they walk from the car, she wraps her arm around his and leans in, resting her head on him for a moment. 

he turns his head and smiles at her. 

“i don’t know if i ever told you this…but uh,” he glances over her face, “you’re really beautiful.” 

“thank you, carmy” her soft smile grows, “i think you have told me.” 

“not enough.” he’s kind of in a trance, pace slowing as he watches her face. she giggles and pulls him forward to the entrance. 

the doorman of their building lets the two in, giving a small smile watching the young lovers laugh, that gleam of infatuation shining bright over their faces. 

as the elevator doors close, and she turns to face him, their laughs slowly cease. they stare at each other intently. 

“stop doin’ that” he mutters lowly.

“doing what?” 

“you keep looking at my lips.” 

“i really want to kiss you.” she bites at her lip, eyes fluttering as she keeps staring. 

carmy exhales harshly at this, clenching his fists to keep his hands to himself. 

she leans forward, bringing her face closer to his. he smells so fucking good, looks so handsome in his suit, she’s tempted to just tear him apart with her teeth. 

“do it,” he challenges quietly, their lips so close. 

she almost gives up on the challenge, leaning just a little closer, then-

ding

saved by the bell, literally. the elevator doors open to their floor. 

she gasps softly at the noise, pulling away from him, face feeling hot, core tingling. 

she had complained earlier, but this challenge is fun.

they hurriedly make their way to the door of their unit. 

the girl stumbles in her heels and almost face plants, but carmy catches her, wrapping an arm around her waist and preventing her from falling. 

without warning, he hoists her up, trying to throw her over his shoulder. 

“carmy!” she yelps, “put me down!” secretly hoping he doesn’t. 

he hoists her up some more, and she folds over his shoulder, dangling upside down, laughing harder than  she has in a long time.  

“you’re too clumsy,” he teases, hand securely gripping onto the back of her thigh, walking them the last 20 feet to their door. with his free hand he retrieves his keys, unlocks the door and nudges it open. 

he only puts her down once the door is closed behind him, and she wobbles on her feet when he does so, gripping onto his arms for stability. 

her face is rosy from the blood rushing to her head, and she has a girlish smile on her face as she looks up at him. 

“you’re strong.” 

he just smiles softly, gazing down at her. 

“can you make me another one of those moscow mules?” 

“yes, chef!” she returns, kicking off her heels and walking towards the kitchen. 

he runs a hand through his hair, sighing longingly, and follows, sitting on one of the barstools opposite the counter where she stands. 

“put on some music?” she asks softly, turning on the kitchen speaker. 

“what do you want me to play?” he opens his bluetooth and connects. 

“i dunno. something romantic.” the girl has a sweet smile on her face, measuring out the vodka for his drink. 

he shuffles an oldies playlist—the songs from the 1940s/1950s that sound like real love. like loving and being loved unconditionally. like settling down and coming home to each other every day.  

“good choice,” she compliments, cracking open a ginger beer. “i love this kind of music.” a frank sinatra song plays softly. 

“me too. it’s kind of nostalgic.” he thinks of the old black and white movies he would watch with his mom.  

“here,” she hands him the cold drink, garnished with mint and lime. 

“thank you,” he has a small smile on his face, taking a sip. it’s bubbly and refreshing. 

she clicks the speaker up a few notches, and hums along, putting away all of the drink materials. 

carmen loves the sound of it. 

the girl saunters over to him and perches herself on his lap, hand circling behind his neck. 

his arm wraps around her back as she steals his drink to take a sip. 

“good, huh?” he praises, dragging his thumb along the fabric of her dress. 

“it’s okay,” she sets the cup down, “not as good as the michelin star cocktail i had earlier.” 

“i disagree.” 

“oh really?” she has this smile of disbelief. 

“mhm. this could be award winning, easily.” 

“you’re just saying that.” 

“no. m’serious.” his hand rests on her knee, and he rubs it along her leg softly. 

she just smiles at this, and leans in to pepper kisses along his cheek and jaw. the first song fades into the next. 

“wanna dance?” she smiles against his skin.

“dance?” 

“yeah. slow dance with me.”

“i, uh… i don’t know how.” 

“what do you mean you don’t know how?” she giggles, standing up from his lap. “come here.”

he slowly joins her in the living room, a bashful expression on his face. he’s never been able to dance. it’s always made him feel stupid. but even so, he approaches. 

this love of mine goes on and on. 

she takes his hand and gently puts one on her waist, holding the other. she loops her other arm around his neck. carmy finds his nerves are almost immediately eased. 

they sway gently. the light is low and an ella fitzgerald song resonates through the room. it’s slow, and kind of sad. but still romantic. 

though life is empty since you’ve been gone.

carmen closes his eyes and rests his forehead on hers, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly sentimental.

his arms wrap around her further, and he pulls her closer. the music has an old fashioned grainy sound to it that makes it sound sweet. 

she leans in to kiss his neck, chest pressed flush against his. she feels a surge of warmth throughout her chest. feeling grateful. relishing the moment. resting her head against him. 

the two just sway gently, taking light steps ever so often. 

it almost felt as if they were playing pretend—both dressed in their nicest clothes, tipsy off of $20 cocktails, swaying to the romantic music. pretending the end isn’t in sight. 

i ask the sun and the moon. the stars that shine. 

he pulls back to get another look at her face. tries to ignore the way his throat tightens. 

what’s to become of it, this love of mine?

the girl’s gaze is longingly fixed on his handsome face. 

“i really did have a wonderful time tonight,” she whispers.

he gives her a smile, but it looks kind of sad. 

“i’m glad.” 

“i don’t really know how to say this, but…” she drops his hand and wraps both arms around his neck, getting a bit closer, “i…i’m really happy i met you.” 

he releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, eyes flickering over her face. he really wants to kiss her. 

“i-…you know i’m never gonna be able to stop thinking about you?” 

“i know, carm. i won’t either.” she hates how sad he looks. “but it’ll get easier, yeah?”

“yeah.” it’s gotta be the biggest lie he’s ever told someone.  

“i love you, you know?” her confession comes as a whisper. 

“i know, baby,” his tone is low, and he tightens his grip on her hips, like he’s afraid of her disappearing, “i love you too.”

what’s to become of it, this love of mine?

the song fades out slowly, and for some reason the music stops all together. the silence is thick, and the two lovers stare at each other with a palpable tension. 

her eyes dart down to his lips.

“i um…i think i give up.” she whispers. 

his brows furrow. before he can ask her what she means, the girl leans in and presses a firm, sweet kiss to his lips. and as innocent as the gesture is, it makes the air feel hot. makes it feel heavy. gives him goosebumps all over his arms. makes him groan.

almost instantly, carmen grabs the back of her head and pulls her against his lips, desperate to get more. he really does try to match her slow pace but he just needs it. he slips his tongue into her mouth, not even realizing how bad he needs it until he tastes her. 

the girl reciprocates for a moment, a small smile forming at the unexpected ferocity. her hands come to his chest and she eases herself away from him, feeling him chase her lips. 

“slow down,” she teases, helping to alleviate some of his hunger with a gentle kiss, a small grin on her face. 

she’s really good at using his words against him, he thinks to himself. 

“you look pretty,” the girl says in a low tone, eyes raking over the lipstick she’s left smudged over his pouty, swollen lips. slutty is probably the more accurate term. 

“pr-…what?” his brain stutters. 

the girl swipes her thumb over his lips and shows him the red stain, before leaning forward to pepper gentle kisses along his cheek, jaw, down to his neck. 

it surprises carmen when she keeps moving downwards, threading her fingers into his tie and loosening the knot, kissing and nipping at every inch of skin she can find. she moves eagerly, but gently—really savoring the way he tenses and shudders from the light touches. this time feeling as if she holds the power. 

the girl drops to her knees, smiling up at his look of wide-eyed shock as she fumbles with the buckle of his belt. 

“w-what are you doing?” he rasps, clearing his throat. 

“what do you mean?” she’s looking up at him innocently, slowly undoing his button and zipper.

“you, uh…you don’t have to.” he’s fixated on how pretty she looks down on her knees for him, “i know we made that bet, but if you don’t want to,-”

she pulls his briefs down to expose his cock and cuts him off with a breathy moan. it springs from confinement, tip red and throbbing. the sight alone is enough to send heat pooling between her legs, and she hungrily dives forward to lick a single stripe up the side of it. 

carmen lets out a low groan, still surprised by how enthusiastically she dove to her knees—her droopy eyes, the satisfied grin on her face looking up at him—it’s as if she didn’t even care about the challenge. like it’s prize enough just to please him. 

the girl softly grips his cock, leaning in and planting kisses teasingly along the length of it. making her way to the tip. it twitches in her hand. she flattens her tongue against the head of his cock and just pauses there for a second, looking up at his twisted brows and red cheeks with an amused expression. trying to gauge him. 

carmen intently watches her—pink tongue, manicured nails, looking up at him through her lashes. he lets out a guttural groan when she swirls her tongue around the head of his cock. 

the girl takes a breath and dives forward to take him into her mouth. 

“jesus.” his hand comes to card through her hair, pushing it out of her way as she hungrily takes him in. 

he’s thick and heavy in her mouth. she gives a few bobs of her head, coating him in her saliva, trying to find what makes him tick. tasting his distinct flavor and pressing her thighs together to try and chase some relief. 

“fuck, that’s-,” he exhales sharply as she moves her head up and down the length of his shaft, saliva coating his skin, beginning to stick to his pubic hair, “that’s good. keep doin’ that.” it’s more of a plea than a command. 

she doesn’t, though, instead easing her mouth from his cock, watching as a string of spit connects them as she pulls back with a soft giggle. 

he knows he’s completely fucked for her when his erection twitches at the noise. he rakes his eyes over her flushed face and chest. the way her lipstick is smudged across her spit-glossed lips. 

“keep doing what?” she asks teasingly.

“you-…stop fuckin’ playing with me,” he rasps exasperatedly. 

the girl smiles at his tone, and leans forward to give gentle kitten-like licks over his throbbing head. 

“m’not-” a kiss, “playing with you, carmy,” another kiss, “i’m just…enjoying myself.” she gently jerks the length of him, opening her mouth, bumping him against her tongue with every few strokes. she finds herself getting aroused trying to push his buttons like this. 

“you’re-mmh…you’re gonna fuckin’ get it if you don’t stop.” 

“you want me to stop?” she asks sweetly, “okay.” she drops her hand and sits back on her heels, watching as his erection bobs up and down. 

carmen’s gaze darkens, jaw clenched. 

“you-…” he scoffs, “i can see right through what you’re doing.”

“oh yeah?” she tests, “what am i doing?” 

“you’re trying to get me to get rough with you.”

bingo. she kind of wants a face fucking. 

“no i’m not.” the girl bites at her lip unconvincingly. 

“yes you are. and i'm not going to.” 

“wha-why?” she pouts, scooting closer to him. his cock brushes against her cheek. 

“not like this. i don’t wanna hurt you.” he reaches forward to brush a piece of hair behind her ear, letting his hand trail over her face. 

“you won’t,” she whines, eyes darting between his face and his raging erection. it’s big, so maybe he will. but she doesn’t care. “i can take it.” 

“you like to argue,” he grumbles, taking ahold of her face, squeezing her cheeks together slightly. she looks so cute like this. 

“carm,” she whines, “i can take it. promise i can. please?” 

carmen releases her face, trailing his hand behind her head and gripping her hair. with his other hand he fists his cock and gently eases it forward, rubbing the tip against her slick, pouty lips. 

“open,” his tone is low, and he slowly pushes himself into her mouth when she complies. he goes until he feels restriction, and pulls back. 

the girl lets out a sound of disagreement at this. 

“hey.” carmen chides firmly, “you’re gonna take what i fuckin’ give you.” he watches the way her eyelids flutter at his stern tone. the way she shifts her body overtop her heel.

the girl lets a sigh out through her nose and tries to exercise patience as the man slowly rocks his hips forward and back, never breaching the halfway point. remaining gentle and delicate in his motion. 

when she tries to sink her mouth further forward, he grips her hair and harshly tugs her back. her yelp is muffled around his cock. 

“what, baby? that hurt?” his tone has a mocking edge to it. “thought y’said you could handle it.” he pulls himself out of her mouth so she can respond. 

“i can.” her voice trembles. face is red hot. panties soaked with slick. 

“yeah?” he slaps his cock against her cheek, “gonna be a tough girl for me?” 

“yes,” she pleads, eyes fixated on him, enthusiastically embracing his shift of dominance.  

to her surprise, carmen steps away from her. he’s giving her this look as if he’s about to devour her. silence, for a moment. like he’s thinking. 

“take off your dress.” 

she blinks, processing the request for a moment. after she shoots up and undoes her zipper, she hastily shoves the fabric down her body, letting it pool around her ankles before stepping out. and by the time she’s about to get back on her knees, carmen’s own clothes are on the floor next to hers. 

the man graciously rakes his eyes over her nude body, thanking each and every saint he could think of. grabbing her and pulling her in for a frantic kiss before she can sink back down to her knees. he can taste the fruity remnants of lime and mint on her lips from the cocktail she had at the restaurant. 

the girl eagerly accepts his kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth, swallowing the small groan he releases. 

“wanna taste you again,” she pleads in between kisses. 

“yeah?” he bites at her lip.

“y-eah,” she gasps, surprised at how firmly he had nipped her. 

carmen pulls away with a final kiss, moving to sit on the couch. he spreads his knees apart and locks eyes with the girl, a silent beckon to come. 

she obeys, of course, and sinks down to the floor in between his legs, resting her hands atop his strong thighs. it’s only moments before she’s eagerly diving forward to take him into her mouth again. 

carmy just watches her, savoring the moment. savoring how her tongue swirls around him and how she keeps going lower and lower. how her face gets redder and how she stares up at him with blown pupils. it’s surreal—almost dreamlike. 

he gathers her hair in a haphazard ponytail, using his grip to push her a little further down. make her move a little faster. he can tell she likes it, too, by the way her moans vibrate around his cock. 

carmen pulls her back by her hair, forcing her to take a breather. his eyes rake over her flushed cheeks and pouty lips. she looks like a little doll, and the juxtaposition of her pretty face with the filthy position drives him fucking crazy. 

“stick your tongue out,” he tells her gruffly. 

and she does, showing him her tongue and gazing up at him through her lashes. 

carmy takes a firm hold of her face with his free hand and spits into her mouth. then eases his cock back inside. 

it’s enough to make her want to cum on the spot. 

the girl takes him in deeper than she had yet, almost hitting the back of her throat. and despite her gag, she continues to enthusiastically bob her head, desperate for more. 

it’s so enjoyable, in fact, that she trails her hand down between her legs, beginning to circle her swollen clit just to alleviate some of the heat she felt. and it feels so fucking good just to have that added touch that her body goes a little limp, jaw goes slack. 

she gives carmen complete control of her movements, tethered to him by the tight fist wrapped around her hair—consciously focusing on relaxing her throat as tears brim her eyes. 

“jesus christ, that’s good, baby.” he shifts forward, filling her mouth with more of his length. watches in mild enjoyment as she gags around him. 

“just relax,” he soothes, moving his free hand to caress her face, dragging her back by her hair. 

the girl takes a sharp breath in as soon as she can, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks. her fingers are drenched with slick arousal, staring carmy in the eyes, lips parted as continues to eagerly rub circles over her clit. 

“fuck me,” he strains, watching her play with herself, unaware of her desperation until that moment. the sight looks like it’s straight out of a porno. “you having fun down there?”

she nods her head eagerly, wiping some saliva from her chin with the back of her hand, leaning forward to try and take him back into her mouth. 

carmen gives her hair a little tug, keeping her in place. 

she glances up to give him a questioning look.

“come give me a taste.” his eyes glance down to her lips. 

a small smile forms on her face as she processes his request. she gingerly leans forward, careful to not earn another tug, and licks a long stripe up his cock. 

carmy loosens the grip on her hair as she goes to stand up, enthusiastically accepting her tongue into his mouth to taste himself. 

there’s something about the ferocity of the kiss that makes him feel like he’s on the verge of finishing all over his stomach. he takes deep breaths trying to push the feeling away. and that’s before he feels the wet heat of her pussy rubbing against the tip his length. 

the girl finds herself so desperate for release she begins to rock against his erection, letting it glide through her wet folds, gauging his reaction to see if he’ll stop her. 

and he doesn’t, instead groaning into her mouth and grabbing her ass. 

so the girl positions her wet hole over his cock, and slowly begins to sink down, letting out a gasp at the stretch. 

“fuck,” the two chant in tandem, hers as a whimper and his as more of a gruff exhale. 

carmen marvels about how perfect the stretch of her wet hot cunt feels around him as she eases herself down until she’s flush with his lap. 

they just stare at each other for a second in this feral, pupils-blown kind of frenzy, mouths both agape at the sensation of his cock nudged so deeply within her. how she’s not even moving and it’s just so hot and wet and deep and fucking good. 

carmen’s hand sides up her back, thumb pressing into the dip of her spine. his face is hot and his cock is throbbing and his mouth moves faster than his mind can.

“m’keeping you here with me,” he almost growls, pressing his fingers into her skin, eyes locked on hers. doesn’t miss the way she flinches a little at the words. 

the girl grips the sides of his face, and leans forward, pressing her forehead against his, closing her eyes and shakily exhaling as she rocks her hips back and forth against him. 

carmy says her name. it comes out strained. his hands grab her ass and he pulls and pushes her, intensifying the gentle rocking motion. 

the girl presses her lips to his, hoping to quiet him with a kiss. hoping to forget about it and just enjoy the moment. but she feels him call her name again, this time against her lips. the girl begins to softly bounce herself on his lap, jostling his length inside of her. 

“hey,” he exhales in between her eager kisses. “i didn’t mean-” another kiss, “-you just feel so good and i-”

“carmy,” she whispers softly against his lips, “be quiet baby. just-mmh… let’s just enjoy it.” 

carmen groans into her mouth as she rocks her hips against his again, hand coming to the small of her back. and it’s definitely enjoyable. it’s just hard to not think about it ending. to not plead with her for just a little more. 

the girl takes his scrunched face and nod as a gesture to keep going, so she shuffles her knees in a bit and begins slowly riding him. one hand touches his firm chest, the other trailing her kisses from his jaw to his neck. 

“jesus christ,” is what slips from his mouth, as he feels her gentle bites, allowing himself to relinquish that control he holds so dearly, for just a moment.

when she pulls back from his neck, her face and chest are flushed, nipples perked, and she’s pushing her breasts out trying to get him to look.

but his eyes just remain fixed on hers, like he’s trying to memorize her blown pupils and color of her irises. 

“is it okay?” she asks breathily as she keeps rocking her hips, feeling unexpectedly nervous under his intense gaze. 

“you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he mutters immedietly, as if he doesn’t entirely process her question. 

and even though they were this far along, the girl finds herself feeling shy at his sincerity. she goes to deflect as she usually does to compliments that fluster her. 

“n-no, i-”

“-you are. my pretty fuckin’ girl. never gonna let you outta my sight,” he almost growls. 

and by this point her body is hot and her pussy is throbbing and she’s finding the words that come out of his mouth so incredibly tempting. the implications less serious under the blanket of lust. so her lips part in a moan and she presses her hand to his chest and begins to ride faster, easing off then re-impaling herself on his cock. his hands come up to cup her breasts, ghosting thumbs over her nipples. 

“yes, carm.”

“yeah?” 

“mhm. love how you touch me.” 

she shuffles her feet under her knees, angling herself to be able to bounce a bit more comfortably. 

“you feel so-fuck… so good, you know that?” carmen grits, face scrunching at the new sensation.  

her stomach flutters at his praise, eyes raking down his form beneath her. his flushed skin. the way the muscle of his shoulder bulges out a little as he’s grabbing her like his life depends on it. 

“feels so big,” she whisper-cries.

“yeah? is it too much?” 

“n-no. so good. m’so full.”

his eyes glance down to where their bodies are connected. watches her ride him for a moment. groans at the way she becomes nearly all the way flush with his hips. 

“so good at that,” he grits, mesmerized by the way her sticky arousal clings to his pubic hair. “take me so good. you like feelin’ full, huh?” 

her mouth just falls open in response, eyes screwing shut as she feels him reach forward to circle her clit. the added pleasure only spurs her on, beginning to eagerly ride him, breasts bouncing in front of his face. 

“holy shit,” she cries, surprised how easily she feels her orgasm building, nails leaving crescents on the skin of his shoulder. 

“you close already, baby?” he whispers with a small, knowing grin on his face. “m’barely touching you.”

she just moans in response, unable to open her eyes, bucking her hips more wildly by the second, movements becoming sloppier, needier. 

“just keep-ah…just stay right there,” she pleads, savoring his slick, feather-light touches to her clit, feeling tears well up in her eyes. 

“right there?” carmen eases his fingers back slightly at the sight of her tears, and it’s just enough pressure to keep her on edge. 

“y-yeah, i’m…just please-” she cries pathetically, breaths becoming frantic, a static feeling tingling through her body. “please, carmy, m’gonna cum. just a little more.” 

and he can’t help but just marvel at her. the twisted expression of pleasure on her face. the stray tear that slips down her cheek. it’s probably the most erotic thing he’s ever seen. 

as a thank you for the next year of jerk-off material, he lets her have just a little more. watches with enjoyment as she finally comes unraveled with this loud, primal cry. feels the sting of her nails against his chest and bicep. 

the man holds her hip with his free hand, thrusting up into her as her movement falters and she slumps forward. 

“carm, i-” she gasps, body becoming overstimulated, thighs trembling.

“i got you, baby. i got you.” 

“it’s-ah!”

“one more second, pretty girl, m’almost done. can you hold on for me?” 

“y-yeah,” she cries, desperately grabbing onto him for dear life. there’s this overwhelming heat surging through her body. her lips feel numb and tingly. but she holds on and takes it like a big girl. 

“you’re fuckin’ gripping me.” he strains, eyebrows twisted up in pleasure.

the girl isn’t able to respond through her jagged breathing, instead leaning forward to hungrily kiss him again.

“y’gonna have to move in a sec,” carmen warns, gripping her hips with bruising force. 

“no,” she begins to move her hips against him, meeting his thrusts halfway.

carmy groans, eyes nearly rolling back into his head. “what do you mean no?” he strains. 

“want it in me.” 

“jesus, fu-” he exasperatedly exhales, “can’t baby. you know i can’t.” 

they lock eyes, pupils blown. 

“please. wanna feel it.” her plead comes in between desperate breaths. 

“what, you want a baby or something?” the man asks her, partially in disbelief and partially in a fiery haze of lust. 

“yes-!” she gasps. and even though a baby is probably the last thing she wants, there’s this inexplicable urge that overtakes. that revels in the idea of being linked with him forever. 

“yeah?” he’s shocked by her answer, but not dissuaded, “you want me to put a baby in you?” 

“yeah, carm. want your baby. wanna stay here with you.” the girl finds herself coming up on a second orgasm, relishing the way his cock perfectly nudges against her g-spot. 

“fuckk,” he groans, face growing hot at her words, “you want that? really?” studying her expression for any trace of hesitation. finding none. “cause i’ll give it to you.” and he’s dead serious. he’ll buy a ring for her tomorrow if she wants it, he thinks to himself. 

“yes, i want it,” she cries, “cum in me, please.”

and between the desperation of her plead and her breasts bouncing right in his face, it takes him about 5 more seconds before he erupts. 

his cock twitches, body stiffens and he lets out a guttural moan, grabbing onto her hips with a bruising force. 

and the feeling of his hot cum inside of her is enough for the girl to fall over the edge for a second time, tear-soaked eyes rolling back into her head, a whitehot bliss surging through her body. 

the two lovers are overcome with the sensation, sexes pulsing rhythmically in sync, graciously sharing orgasms with each other. 

carmen’s eyes are scrunched shut, brows furrowed and lips parted. 

the girl’s head falls to his shoulder, shakily breathing through the feeling. trying to come back down to earth. 

they just stay there for a moment, panting. recovering. 

she finds that she can hear his heartbeat. zones into the rhythm. listens as it gradually slows.

carmy wraps his arms around her and nuzzles his face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. 

when she finally pulls back after a few minutes, she plants a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“you good?” he asks against her mouth. 

“so good.” and so full and so warm. she never wants to move. 

but like all good things, they must come to an end. so the girl begins to slowly ease herself off his cock. and suddenly realizes what just happened. 

“oh shit.” 

“what?” carmen opens his eyes. watches as his cum slowly drips out of her. tries to take a mental picture. 

but the girl quickly reaches over to grab a tissue off the coffee table, frantically wiping away the surplus of the stickiness leaking from her core. 

“why didn’t you pull out?” her tone grows a bit frantic. 

“wha-cause you fuckin’ begged me not to.” he shakes his head, trying to comprehend her question. 

“i-…” she stutters, exhaling, “fuck, carmy, i’m not on birth control!” 

he has this perplexed expression on his face, blinking slowly and trying to rationalize her response. “you…did you not want me to? m sorry, i-”

“-no, i know i told you to. i just-…i got caught up in the moment i guess.” between the release of her orgasm and the weight of her previous request, the girl finds herself fighting the urge to cry. 

carmen must seem to notice this, because his hardened expression softens a bit. he quickly tries to think of something comforting to say. 

“want me to take you to get a plan b?” 

nice, carmy, he thinks to himself. he’s never been good at responding fast under pressure.

“yeah.” her response comes as a whisper. comes with a single tear. she turns her head away from him and embarrassedly tries to wipe it away. 

“hey,” he says tenderly, going to hold the side of her face, turning her back to face him. just studies her face for a moment with furrowed brows, trying to think of what to say. “you…you know i’d support you, right? if you…whatever you decide.”

“really?” it’s hard for her to believe him. 

“yes, really.”

“you’d want a baby?”

“if that’s what you want.” he has the most genuine expression on his face, eyes locked with hers. he watches another tear roll down her cheek and adds, “seriously. i’m all in.”

she’s shocked by his sincerity. it doesn’t make anything easier, either. just makes everything feel more confusing. 

“i’m…carmy, i can’t.” her words come out as a kind of sob. 

“that’s okay.” he reassures wholeheartedly. he doesn’t know why he feels just a little disappointed. 

“but i want to.” the girl plants her hands on his bare chest. “it’s just…you’re older than me. you’re ready for that kind of thing. i’m…such a mess, i can’t even imagine being a mom yet.” it comes out choked, the tears just keep falling. 

“i get it.” he nods. “really. you don’t have to explain yourself.” he rubs circles with his thumb along her hip. “i just wanted you to know. it’s your choice.”

“you’d wanna have a baby with me?” she wipes at her cheek. 

“yeah.” he nods, brows furrowed. “of course i would.” 

and just for a moment, the girl lets herself fantasize. lets her brain entertain the thought of having a family with him. of just leaving everything in california and starting new. of being so selfish and doing what she wants, just this one time. 

the thought is so tempting she finds it hard to distance herself from. to rationalize. 

she wouldn’t be a good mom. a good wife. not right now. she still has so much to learn about herself. so much to still figure out. 

after a moment, she finally speaks. 

“can you take me to cvs?” 

carmen nods, and reaches up to wipe the last of her tears away. 

he ignores the gnawing feeling of loss. has to remind himself it’s the loss of a fantasy. 

the loss of something that never existed. 

-

“fuck me.” she drops her bag to the ground, frantically opening pockets and unzipping zippers. “carm, i think i left my passport on the-“ 

“-no you didn’t.” he fishes in his back pocket for the booklet and hands it over. “here.”

the girl lets out a sigh of relief, staring up at the man with this perplexed, amazed expression. 

“thank you.” it comes out in a sort of whisper, and when she goes to take it from him, their fingers brush against each other. 

“you, uh…you only got an hour left.” he runs his hand through his messy hair. “y’should probably go find your gate.” 

“yeah.” she stands. her bag remains on the ground. “okay.” 

the two just stare at each other for a minute, locked in this trance-like state. 

“you know, i-”

“-do you think we-” 

their words overlap. 

“i’m sorry, you go-”

“-no, go ahead.” carmen nods, a small smile on his face. 

she takes a deep breath, piecing together what she even wants to say. 

“just…thank you. for everything. and i’m gonna miss you.” her words don’t do it justice. there’s so much more she wants to say. 

he nods, swallowing harshly. his fingers fumble for the piece of paper folded up in his pocket. 

“i, uh…listen. i know you’re gonna be busy, and…want to focus on other things, which i get. but, uh…i was thinking, if you wanted…no pressure…uh,”

“what is that?” she interrupts, curiosity getting to the better of her, pointing to the folded up paper he holds. 

“it’s uh…it’s a plane ticket. well, a voucher.” he hurriedly explains, “from LAX to ORD. i was thinking if you ever had a weekend free or something…” he trails off, trying to gauge her reaction. hoping he’s not overstepping. 

she takes deep breaths—having promised herself earlier that she wouldn’t cry. but the moment she goes to open her mouth to speak, a sob comes out. she claps her hand over her mouth. closes her eyes as she feels carmen’s arms instantly wrap around her. 

“hey,” he soothes, kissing the side of her head. “c’mon, don’t cry. you’re gonna make me cry.” his voice wobbles a bit.

the girl burrows her face into his chest, staining his shirt with tears. 

“i don’t wanna go-!” she cries, clinging onto him as if her life depends on it. 

“i know.” he nuzzles his nose into her hair. “i know, pretty girl. it’s gonna be okay.” his throat burns. face feels hot. and as much as he hates it, tears brim at his eyes. he told himself he wasn’t going to cry. 

and so they just stand there, holding each other. ignoring the shuffle of the crowd around them as people queue into the security line. 

ignoring the grainy announcements over the pa system. 

ignoring the fact that it would’ve been so much less painful had they never gone so far. 

for a moment, it feels like the world around them stops. the passage of time, the priority of leaving, all of it. 

just for a moment. like they’re back in the living room and ella fitzgerald is playing. 

“don’t forget about me,” she pleads into the fabric of his jacket. 

“i don’t think i could if i tried.”

at this, she places a soft kiss onto his neck. “i’ll miss you.”

“me too,” carmen chokes out, grabbing at her waist, her hips, trying to memorize the feeling of her body against his. 

and as the girl slowly tries to pull away, he holds her a little tighter, trying to turn his head so she doesn’t see him cry. 

“carmy,” she whispers soothingly, reaching up to wipe a tear from his face. 

“just, uh…call me when you land, yeah?” he brushes the gesture off, feeling all too vulnerable under her sympathetic gaze. 

“okay.” she rubs his cheek. 

“alright. i guess you should go get in line, then.” he goes to step back. 

“wait.”

the girl pulls his face in and presses one last kiss to his lips. it feels like they lock together. like the perfect fit.

and carmen just melts into the feeling, letting out the smallest of groans into her mouth. it’s her taste, her smell, everything. for a split second he debates giving up on his dreams. selling the restaurant and following her to california. raising babies and laying in the sand and swimming in the ocean no matter how cold it is. 

she slowly steps back, leaving him wanting just a little more. 

“i love you.” she softly reminds him, holding his hand. 

he nods, pressing his lips together and looking away from her. feeling so stupid for the tears that burn his eyes. 

“i love you too.” 

the girl takes another step back, letting her hand fall from his. picking up her bag and giving him one last good look. imprinting into her mind his messy curls and handsome face. 

and it feels like there’s nothing left to say, really. 

so she turns and walks away from him. towards the security checkpoint doors. taking deep breaths and wiping at her cheeks. she’s about to push through the doors.

don’t look back. do not look back. 

she turns to look back at him. and he’s still there, standing in the same place she’d left him. his hands are in his pockets. jaw is clenched. just watching her with this look on his face that makes her want to dive into his arms and tell him she’ll stay. 

the girl raises her hand. gives him a small wave. he returns the gesture with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. 

and with that, she pushes through the doors. 

in a way, it feels like she’s leaving home. not returning home. 

for the entire flight, she stares out the window in complete silence. thinking about the last few months. biting back more tears with every new thought. 

she gets back to san diego around 6 in the evening. takes a taxi to the beach that’s a mile from her house. 

sends carmy a picture of the waves rolling in, the sky stained a pinkish orange. 

within a few minutes, she receives a heart on the photo. 

he doesn’t send anything else. 

it does feel good to be home. the girl has to continually remind herself of this over the next few weeks. it feels familiar. feels safe. 

but along with the joy of being back home, there’s this underlying feeling of grief. a gnawing in her chest whenever she lays her head down at night. 

she feels haunted by carmen, in a way. 

her brain plays cruel tricks on her—mistaking any white man with curly brown hair at the supermarket for him just for a split second. 

stalking his instagram. his restaurant’s instagram. his restaurant’s employee’s instagrams. trying to keep up with him. 

she doesn’t call him. doesn’t text. 

and carmy doesn’t either. 

she opens their message thread ever so often just to make sure she didn’t miss his notification. types out messages and deletes them and stares at the heart he’d left on her picture. 

she convinces herself that if he wanted to call her, he would’ve. takes his silence as a message. 

on christmas day she has one cranberry cocktail too many and finally gives in. navigates to her contacts and presses on the phone icon next to his name. 

and the line rings. and rings. and rings. and right before she’s about to hang up and drown herself in more cranberry cocktails, the line picks up. 

“hey,” comes carmen’s voice through the phone. it’s so good to hear that the girl blanks out for a minute, not even sure of what to say. “hello?” he asks into the silence. 

“fuck you,” she blurts out, clapping a hand over her mouth as soon as the words leave. it was just the first thing that came to mind. 

after a stunned silence, she hears him give a surprised chuckle, followed by a “merry christmas to you too.” carmen grabs his jacket and opens the door of his mom’s house, stepping out into the cold, snowy night. 

“you never called me.” 

“i, um…i didn’t think you wanted me to,” the man responds truthfully, “you never responded.” 

what? he never sent anything to respond to. 

“respond to-…” she scoffs, “what, you ‘liking’ my message?” 

“yeah,” he feels a little embarrassed hearing it out loud, “yeah, i guess i can see what you mean. i, uh…sorry. i was actually just thinking about you.” 

his admission sends butterflies through her stomach. she rolls her eyes at the feeling. 

“yeah, well merry christmas. and i hope you get coal.” her face feels hot. “and i miss you.” the last part spills out without her permission. 

he gives her another soft laugh. 

“yeah, i deserve coal. and i…i miss you so fucking much,” he admits, watching his breath freeze in the air in front of him, “you still liking it out there?”

“it’s alright.” her response comes softly. she plays with a loose thread on her sweater. 

“yeah? your mom doing okay?” 

“i guess. as okay as she can. is yours?” 

carmen exhales, half humorous, half exasperation. “yeah. as okay as she can.” he had been called a bitch more times than he could count tonight, actually. but he keeps it light. 

the girl just hums in agreement at this, and a brief silence settles between them. he’s the one to eventually break it. 

“you, uh…you think about coming out anytime soon?” god, he wishes he had a cigarette. “still got your room empty.”

“yeah, i have.” it’s all she’s been thinking about. but she tries to stay nonchalant. “maybe after new years.” 

“great, yeah.” his heart pounds a little faster at her words. “no pressure, just…yeah. i’d love to see you.”

“okay. i’ll um…i’ll let you know,” she tells him softly, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry. 

“okay.”

“merry christmas, carmy.”

“merry christmas.” he shuffles from side to side. “stay in touch, yeah? it was really good to hear from you.”

“yeah, i will. you too. goodnight.”

“wait, i uh-” he wants to tell her he loves her. 

“hm?” she puts the phone back up to her ear. 

“just, um…take care of yourself, yeah?” he can’t seem to muster up the courage.

“i will.” 

“okay. good.”

“i…i’m gonna feel stupid for saying this, but i love you, carm.” 

he gets this feeling of relief and pain all in one. “i love you too.” so much. “thanks for callin’.”

“goodnight.”

“yeah, night.” 

the line disconnects. and it feels better than before. 

hurts still, yes. 

but better. 

the girl finds herself staring at the ceiling that night, just thinking. about her family, her career. about carmen. finds solace in the way that gnawing feeling is replaced by a fluttering. a hopefulness. 

and what is love, if not unconditional and everlasting? 

she drifts off to sleep with warm cheeks and the image of his goofy smile at the forefront of her mind. 

-

a/n: ow. 

really hope you enjoyed this series :) these two i hold so near & dear to my heart and i thoroughly enjoyed watching this story fold out along with you. thank you all so much for your patience with the process & for your kind words!!! xoxox

[lemon-russ]

Look. I just........ you can't judge me. What were YOU doing at the devils sacrament?

Mortarion X F!Reader (Pt. 1?)

Next (technically prequel)

CW: imprisonment, dehumanization, human pet, oral sex, general debauchery

TAGS: @moodymisty

Look I dunno if you guys signed up for this but uhhh: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk

“Shhhh, there, there, pet.”

Mortarion reaches through the bars of your cage to stroke your hair. You blink away sleep from your eyes as you orient yourself in the plush prison. Master is home? You scramble out of your little bed- nothing more than a large dogs bed but layered in pillows and blankets- and eagerly press yourself to the bars.

You lean into his palm, grasping his wrist to urge his hand to your cheek and nuzzle into his massive hand.

The primarch chuckles a raspy sound out. “That's a good girl, so happy to see me…” he cooes, kneeling, with some effort and popping joints, to sit beside your prison.

“Now, were you a good pet today? Quiet? Played nicely with your toys?” He murmurs, running a calloused thumb over your lips. “I don’t want to have to make excuses again if you made noise and alerted my sons.”

You smile wide, nodding eagerly. You know better than to speak without being asked. Your master prefers you use your body over words to express your appreciation. You had been playing nice and quiet all day, drawing on your parchments and playing with the “toys” he leaves you for when he is gone for an extended time.

He smiles, the skin of his dry lips straining with cracks, unused to the expression. He withdraws his hand, and the comforting clammy cool with it. You resist clinging.

Your cage clicks open, and you temper your excitement. Mortarion is letting you out? That only ever means good things for his treasured pet. Is it bath time? Or does he want you to warm his bed? Will he finally take you out and show you off?

Your excitement must be showing on your face, because Mortarion lets out another weak chuckle before rasping out a few harsh coughs.

“There's a good pet, so eager to please. It's been a few days since you came out, hasn't it?” He says as he latches your favorite collar to your neck. A rich green, with his name emblazened in bronze. His fingers trace over your throat as he admires the band, sending shivers down your spine and rasing goosebumps on your skin.

He moves aside to let you crawl out. Your cage is large, but short. Not enough to stand in, so it is a special treat when you get to stretch your legs and spine out in your masters bedroom.

Your body protests the sudden change of position as you stretch. It feels more and more unnatural to stand like this, or even leave the safety of your plush cage. Soon you return to your hands and knees at the Primarch’s feet.

He reaches down to run a hand through your hair again, before clipping a matching leash to your neck. A tug tightens your collar, drawing a squeak of surprise from your throat.

“Are you going to be a good pet?” He asks, pulling you by the lead to the edge of the bed. He sits, pulling you forward with him.

You nod quickly, crawling across the hard metal floor to kneel between his knees.

He tugs your leash sharper. “Say it.” He rasps. His pale eyes grow heavy as he eyes you, in your proper place.

“I’ll be good.” You croak, voice thick with disuse.

He smiles again, reaching down to run a hand under your chin. He brings his face close enough that his breath tickles your cheeks.

“Good girl.”

He leans back, spreading his legs and tugging you forward again, your collar biting into the soft skin of your neck. You don’t need to be told twice, and start undoing the ties holding his loose pants up. There are still splatters of old blood and the remnants of harsh chemicals from the battlefield staining his clothes, and you assume he must have come straight to you after getting home from a fight. The idea makes you puff up a little with pride. Master came straight to you…

You tug apart the knots and look up at him for permission to continue. He answers by caressing a hand to your face, then snapping the leash with his other hand, making you yelp.

You quickly return to your task, releasing Mortarion’s half ready cock from his pants at last.

The sight of his pale flesh makes you stop and admire. Every time your master uses you, you’re still astounded by the sheer size of it. Mortarion chuckles at your wide eyed stare, brushing back hair from your flushed face.

“You like it, pet?” He croons, chest rattling with his deepening breaths.

You nod, fixated still on the rising organ. He smiles, running his hand behind your head to take a fistful of your hair. He pushes your head closer, pressing the head of his cock to your lips.

“Go on then, show me how much.” He demands softly, twitching his hips forward and parting your lips with the tip.

You happily comply, sucking what you can of him into your mouth. The salty taste hit your tongue, and the primearch’s grip on your head burrows him deeper into your throat.

His groaning is cut by a rattling cough, but when you try to stop to look up at him he pushes your head back down on his cock. His next moan is less labored, so you figure it best to keep trying to fit him in your mouth, stretching your aching jaw with his thrusts.

After what feels like an eternity focusing on relaxing your throat and jaw, a sharp snap of your leash snaps you back into the moment.

“That’s it, good girl-” he growls deeply, “swallow it little pet-” his voice hitches as he grabs your head and nearly gags you. He hooks a finger under your collar and yanks, briefly cutting off your already scarce air supply as he fills your throat.

With an airy, raspy whimper, you feel his cock start pumping down your throat. After a couple hitching bucks of his hips, he pulls you off of him by the hair, leaving you gasping and your jaw radiating with sore use.

He falls back onto the bed, wheezing and trembling, and pulls you up to him by your leash. You crawl up to him in a daze and collapse next to him, catching your breath as he tried to control his own.

Finally he lolled his head to look at you, cupping your chin to make you meet his cloudy eyes.

“Good pet.”

[cayleeuhithinknott]

❛ NEW MAGIC WAND ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…sensitive!reader has been giving attitude all night. so, mean!chris decides he’s gonna make her as exasperated as she’s been making him all evening.

cw: SMUT, use of a vibrator☺️, edging☺️, teasing, use of pet names, orgasm denial, i..think that’s it

as chris pulled you into the nearest bathroom of the house hosting the party you were at, your heart was pounding. you knew you were in trouble. all night, you’d been mouthing off to chris and rolling your eyes, which has definitely taken a toll on his mood.

he shut the door, pinning you up against it. chris grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. you can practically see flames set alight in his eyes, and this made you…aroused? yeah, chris was mean sometimes, but it turned you the hell on. and he knew that.

“you’ve had a big mouth all night, ma…where’s it gone?” he teases lowly. you’re still speechless, avoiding eye contact at all costs. “hey—yeah, look at me when i’m talkin’ to you.” he demands, his raspy voice compelling you to obey and look up at him. something about his expression looked different. he’s got something planned for you, and you know it’s not gonna be good.

you can see those mischievous gears turning in his head as he starts to speak again, “you’ve been keepin’ me on edge all night with that attitude of yours, haven’t you, angel?” chris teases. you weren’t aware he was expecting a vocal answer until he gives your cheeks a painful squeeze, still holding your face in his hand.

“y-yeah..” you squeak, making a confident grin creep across his face. oh no. “yeahh, that’s right. so y’know what i think? i think it’s my turn to keep you on edge, ma. you pickin’ up what i’m throwin’ down?” he rasps.

your eyes widen. you’ve never been edged before, let alone by chris. you were nervous to say the least. you knew he’d show you no mercy…but as you thought about it, you began to notice the familiar heat pooling between your legs as you nod in response to his question.

“good. y’know…i found y’little vibratin’ wand thing…think that’ll do it for ya, angel?” he asks, tracing his thumb on your bottom lip. you look up into his eyes. they may be the lightest, brightest blue you’ve ever seen, but that dark glint always finds it’s way into his eyes. “let’s get outta here, then. cmon.”

chris leads you out of the house and you can just imagine how exhausting your night is gonna be.

chris ushers you into your home with a slap on the ass. you both get inside and chris immediately starts talking. “alright, go on upstairs, ma. y’know how i want you.”

you respond with a nod and scurry up the stairs to your shared bedroom. you strip, tossing your clothes off to who knows where. you sit on the bed, awaiting chris’ arrival. chris comes in, holding something familiar in his hand. your stupid vibrator wand from the bathroom cabinet. your heart drops.

“hey, ma. lookin’ nervous over there,” chris chuckles. he drops a pair of fuzzy handcuffs on the nightstand and your eyes go wide. “i-i’m not,” you falsely protest, your voice coming out shakier than you wanted it to. “sure you aren’t, angel.” chris chuckles again.

he sits down next to you on the bed, trailing his hands all over your body. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, baby.” your face flushes and you look away. he grabs your face and turns it back to him with a grin. he leans down, going to town on your neck. whimpers leave your mouth as he trails dark bruises all down your neck and down to your collar bones. he moves down to your bare breasts, circling each of your nipples with his tongue, leaving a trail of fire in it’s wake.

chris sits back up, admiring how you’re now marked up for him. he hums in approval as he reaches a finger down to your sopping pussy. “soaked, angel.” chris teases, running his finger up and down through your slit agonizingly slow. you squeeze your eyes shut just before he pulls his hand away and the tense silence is replaced with a soft buzzing. you knew what it was.

you feel him trace the vibrating wand along your inner thighs, not reaching your core just yet. your clit throbbed with need, and you knew you needed to say something. “please, chris…”

he pauses, a smirk evident on his face, “please what, ma?” he knew exactly what you wanted. he just wanted to make you say it. you whine, not wanting to speak it out loud. chris cocks a brow at you, dragging the wand further away from your pussy, closer to your knee.

“n-need it…on my cl-clit…please…” you mutter in embarrassment, your face flushing red. there’s no way he’s making you do this. chris chuckles at that, hovering the wand in the air just above your clit. “like this, baby?” he teases. you whine, shaking your head. chris then presses it down onto your clit, allowing the vibrations to finally flow through you. instinctively, your legs try to close, but chris is quick to fix that, pinning your thighs open. “no, ma. you don’t need restraints, do you?” your eyes widen as you vigorously shake your head.

chris rubs slow circles around your clit with tip of the wand. you whimper and whine, squirming with each vibration. chris uses his other hand to hold you still.

“you need to stay quiet for me, angel.” he mumbles, turning the vibrator up a notch and increasing the pressure. his little circles become faster, causing moans to spill from your lips. “i…i c-can’t!” you whine. chris fakes a pout, faux sympathy dripping from his voice. “oh, you can’t? i think you c-can, baby.” he mocks you. chris knows you have a very hard time staying quiet, so watching you struggle like this was pure nirvana for him.

“ch-chris, i really can’t—“

he looks down at you with a smug expression. “oh, i’m sure you can manage it, angel. if you can’t control your voice, i’ll just have to stop. and we don’t want that, do we?” he teases. you whine at that. as much as this was pure torture, you didn’t want it to stop. at least—not yet.

chris turns the vibrator up the the 3rd level, and this really gets you going, you’ve got one hand over your mouth, struggling to keep quiet, and the other hand gripping chris’ bicep for all the support you can get.

chris chuckles darkly at your struggles, watching you convulse and try to hold back your whimpers. your legs start to tremble a little more prominently as you feel your orgasm approaching. chris seems to notice this too, increasing his efforts. “getting close, ma?” you vigorously nod, the pleasure becoming more and more intense.

“‘m gonna c-cum, chris!” you moan out, but just as soon as your orgasm was approaching, it was taken away by chris switching off the wand. you whine.

“mmm, no you’re not, angel. only good girls get to cum, remember? it’s gonna be a while before you’re gettin’ what y’want, baby.” chris taunts, that devilish grin still plastered across his face.

with a disappointed whimper, you come to your next realization.

this is gonna be a long, exhausting night.

a/n: hi hi! short lil chris smut cause i got this idea last night and had to write it before i forgot about it! mean!chris and sensitive!brat!reader are definitely going to be a new au on my blog, so send in stuff about them!

taglist

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

[daisymbin]

hii! been obsessed with your writing lately. thank you for sharing with us!!

if it inspires you, i would love to see your interpretation of prompt 46 from the fluff prompt list ("you doodled hearts in my notebook again.") with university! chan.

always excited for your stories, take care!!

ah!! thank you for your kind words and thank you for requesting this!!! ugh university fics always gives me the butterflies 🥲

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // chan's m.list

fluff prompt #46: "you doodled hearts in my notebook again."

you had missed a lecture the day before, overwhelmed with assignments and life, and chan, being the helpful seatmate that he was, offered to lend you his notes. it wasn’t the first time he’d done it, but this time felt a little different.

you weren’t sure why, but when you took his notebook, you felt a little nervous, maybe because you'd always liked chan more than just a friend.

the next day, you returned the notebook, trying to act casual about it. “thanks again for letting me borrow it. i swear, i’ll catch up on everything soon,” you said, handing him his notes with a small, apologetic smile.

chan took the notebook with a bright grin, always more than happy to help. “don’t worry about it. you can borrow it again if you need it.”

“you’re too nice,” you said, giving him a teasing look.

“only because you’re my favorite study buddy,” he joked, though the words slipped out a little more naturally than he intended.

later that night, chan found himself finally sitting down with the notebook after a long day, eager to check if you had caught up on the material. but when he opened it, he was caught off guard.

there, scattered across the pages, were little hearts doodled around his name.

he let out a breath, half-laughing in disbelief. again?

this wasn’t the first time it had happened. months ago, when he had lent you his notebook for the first time, you had drawn hearts around his name, and he had been so embarrassed that he didn’t even mention it to you. it seemed like a one-time thing. but now, here it was again—little hearts marking his name, just as sweet as before.

chan’s fingers traced over the doodles as his heart began to race. he tried to convince himself that it didn’t mean anything. maybe you just liked drawing hearts. but deep down, he wondered—was this your way of telling him something?

the next day, chan sat next to you in class, unable to hide his small grin. you sat down next to him, but he was already focused on his notebook, pretending to take notes, though his mind was completely elsewhere.

you looked at him, wondering why he was being so quiet. finally, after a few moments, he spoke up, his voice light but teasing.

“you doodled hearts in my notebook again,” chan said, his eyes playful as he watched you.

you blinked in confusion. “what? i did?” you stammered, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

chan nodded, turning his notebook toward you, showing you the page where your hearts were still drawn around his name.

“you did. and this isn’t the first time either,” he added, his voice softer now, like he was trying to understand. “didn’t you do this before, a long time ago?”

your face flushed a bright shade of red. “i—I didn’t even realize I did it,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “it’s just... a habit.”

chan’s lips curled up into a soft smile as he watched your nervous reaction. “you really don’t realize it, huh?” he teased gently.

you sighed, trying to laugh it off. “nope, no idea. i just doodle stuff when i’m bored, you know?”

but chan wasn’t buying it. he leaned in a little closer, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “are you trying to tell me something with all these hearts? or is it just a coincidence?” he asked, voice dropping slightly.

your heart raced, and you nervously fiddled with the hem of your shirt, avoiding his gaze. “what do you mean?” you asked, feigning ignorance even though you could feel your face getting hotter by the second.

chan raised an eyebrow, his playful smile growing. “are you trying to tell me something? like… maybe you have a crush on me?” he asked, his voice light and teasing, though there was an edge of curiosity behind it.

your mouth opened and closed as if you were searching for the right words, but nothing came out. the teasing in his tone made you even more flustered, and you struggled to think of something to say.

you managed to mumble, suddenly feeling way too exposed, “it’s just… hearts, right? i always doodle hearts. no big deal.”

chan couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up inside him. “right, just hearts. everywhere. around my name,” he repeated, his voice a little more teasing this time.

you huffed, clearly embarrassed. “okay, okay! maybe i got carried away,” you admitted, now trying to hide behind your notebook. “it’s just something i do when i’m bored. no hidden meanings, promise.”

chan’s grin softened, and he looked at you with a more genuine curiosity. “are you sure?” he pressed, his voice lowering slightly. “because, you know, you can tell me anything.”

you bit your lip, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. “it’s really nothing,” you whispered, but you weren’t sure if you believed that anymore.

chan studied your face for a moment, his smile softening into something more tender. “well, if there’s something you want to tell me... i’m all ears,” he said, his tone sincere.

you didn’t know what to say to that, so instead, you just sat there, lost in his eyes for a moment longer than you should have. but chan could see it all, the way you were looking at him, it was the same fondness he had in his eyes when he looks at you. he wonders if you can see the fondness in his eyes.

“well,” chan said softly, his smile still there but with a little more sincerity, “maybe i’ll just take it as a sign that you like me too.”

your heart skipped a beat as your eyes widened,"too"?

chan watches as the pieces of puzzles slowly click in your head before you let out a small smile

“you think so?”

chan nodded, his voice playful yet serious. “i think it’s pretty obvious.”

and for the first time, you smiled at him without hiding. maybe there was something more to the doodles after all.

[supercap2319]

Cody looks at both Harlan and Noble. "Let me get this straight. You're a werewolf?" He points to Harlan, then looks at Noble. "And you're a witch who was a turned into a vampire, but now a vampire-witch?" It sounded crazy coming from Cody's mouth.

Harlan chuckles, "Guilty as charged." He claps Noble on the back. "And this guy's the most powerful of the lot." Cody grins. "Well, I gotta say, that's this is the most interesting bunch I've ever fallen in with." Noble tried not to blush at that. "I know that you must have a lot of questions for us, Cody."

Cody's grin widens as he looks at Noble, his finger still tracing patterns on his arm. "Oh, I've got questions, all right. Like, how does it feel to be a vampire-witch hybrid? And what's the deal with Harlan here being a werewolf?"

"Harlan was born a werewolf. I was born a witch. A few years ago, I traveled to Beacon Hills to visit family and was attacked. When I woke up, I realized I was a vampire."

"Shit, man. That sucks." Cody said.

"It was. But it means I can kick Harlan's bitch ass now." Noble smirks as Harlan chuckles. He turns to Cody with a playful smirk. "As for me, I'm all natural wolf - full moon, furry exterior, the works." Cody lets out a low whistle.

"He likes to show off." Noble rolled his eyes.

Harlan feigns innocence, placing a hand over his heart. "Me? Show off? Nah, I'm just giving the people what they want to see." He winks at Cody, who laughs loudly.

[wzrd-wheezes]

Tongue Piercing - Sirius Black x Reader

AN - hiya. i am back. purely because i had this thought and couldnt get it out of my head!!! i'm a little rusty so apologies in advance. Smut under the cut <3

“D’you like it?” Sirius asked, running his tongue along the top row of his teeth, the silver ball clinking along the enamel.  

Sirius had always been one for getting piercings; his ears, eyebrow and even nipple were all adorned with silver jewellery. However, when he flashed her his most recent addition, she felt a familiar jolt behind her navel. 

“’Course I like it.” Y/N smiled, heat rising in her cheeks. 

“Wanted to wait ‘til it was fully healed to show you,” he smirked, “You know... so we can test it out.” 

“Oh yeah?” She mirrored his smile, “And what exactly did you have planned?”  

“Was going to start with something like this.” His voice lowered a little as he grabbed her hips, pulling her to straddle his lap. He took her chin between his fingers and tilted her head down so that her lips brushed his. For a moment, it was sweet and gentle, but his tongue quickly skimmed across her bottom lip. The piercing dragged along the soft skin and Y/N let out a little gasp as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Sirius smirked into the kiss, his fingers hooking on to the back of her thighs and he lifted her up. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her into their bedroom. 

“Want you to let me take care of you, yeah?” He murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple as he lay her down on the sheets, “Only thing I want you to worry about is making those pretty noises for me. Got it?” 

She nodded, starting to wriggle up the bed to lean against the headboard. He quickly stopped her in her tracks, long fingers wrapping around her ankles as he yanked her back to the edge of the mattress. Y/N sat up, looking at him confusedly. 

“Stay like that.” he said, dropping to his knees in front of her.  

His hands made light work of her jeans and underwear, discarding them in a pile on the floor. Firmly pushing her legs apart, Sirius smiled as he gently traced a finger down her folds.  

“Pretty girl aren't you?” he looked up at her through his dark lashes, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.  

He peppered kisses up and down the inside of her thighs, only stopping when Y/N was gripping onto the sheets in anticipation. Grinning, he licked a long stripe up her core. The contrast of the hard, cool metal against his wet, warm tongue made her whimper. She slumped backwards on the bed, covering her face with her hands. Sirius quickly stopped, pulling away from her. 

“Want you to watch me, or I’ll stop.” he said firmly, “You can do that for me, can’t you?” 

“Y-yeah.” she choked out. 

“Good girl.” 

Sirius resumed his position, sinking back down onto his knees and burying his face between her thighs.  

He had always been good at it, but the addition of his tongue piercing took it to a new level. Y/N’s hands fisted the sheets as she looked down at her boyfriend, a mess of dark hair beneath her. Sirius lapped at her eagerly, his tongue expertly swirling around her clit, his piercing gliding against it smoothly. She reached down to tangle a hand in his hair.  

“Sirius...” she murmured, tugging on. 

“What is it, pretty girl?” he didn’t pull away, his words vibrating on her core. 

“I’m close,” she breathed, her voice coming out ragged. Sirius hummed against her sensitive flesh, his tongue still unrelenting. 

“You can come, baby.” his voice was hoarse, “’Course you can come.” 

Y/N groaned, her thighs clenching a little around his head. She whined softly as her heart rate quickened and heat coiled in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes screwed shut as she climaxed, her chest heaving as Sirius guided her through the orgasm. 

Once she had finished, he pulled back and grinned up at her, his chin shining with her wetness. Using the back of his hand, he wiped his face. 

“Good isn’t it?”  

[banditthewriter]

Braids - A Halsin drabble

Another Halsin drabble. Just over 500+ words this time. I have some more plans, for this character and more, but for now....thanks for reading!

Enjoy!

***

The three novice druids were supposed to be working on their cultivation work, but instead they were gossiping. It seemed to be an internal battle between the three of them to see who had the best intel of the grove.

“Did you hear that…”

“Did you know that…”

“Did you see Halsin earlier?”

The other two novices looked over at Jenessa as she failed her cultivation spell once more.

“He’s a hard man to miss,” Sloan reminded as he started over his own spell.

“But did you see his hair? He had braids in it.”

Layla, the third novice who was actually doing well with her cultivation spell, scrunched her face up as she tried to focus on the spell and the conversation.

“Okay? Lots of us have braids in our hair,” she pointed out with a shake of her own braided hair.

“These were small braids. Tiny. Do you think those big hands of his could make those?”

Sloan pondered that before his eyes grew wide with the meaning.

“So who braided his hair for him?”

Clearly there would be no work on their training if the conversation continued so you cleared your throat from where you had been assessing them. When they looked at you, you did the spellwork with a wave of your fingers until one of the empty pots started to grow a bloom in an instant.

“I want each of you to have a flower that at least resembles this by the end of the day. I will come by to check on you later. If you need help, ask for it.”

As the three of them began focusing on their task, you turned to walk away with a bit of a smile on your lips.

Later, after checking to find three flowers that were not as impressive as yours but a good start, you crawled into your bed with a sigh. The figure in your bed grumbled and reached out to you. As Halsin pulled you closer for a kiss, your hands went to his hair. As your fingers twined with the locks, you felt the braids that you had put in it just that morning.

“Some of the novices noticed these,” you said as you gave one a tug. His eyes lit up at the pull so you did it again. “They will probably try to figure out who it is that did them.”

You reached up to start to undo them but one of his large hands came up to still yours.

“Let them. I have no shame in what we have. The braids are a reminder of your love and care, even when you are out of sight for hours at a time.”

You loosened your grip and reached up to gently trace Halsin’s bottom lip before you leaned in for another kiss.

“My love is entangled with you as much as those braids are entangled together,” you spoke against his lips. 

His smile made it hard to keep the kiss, but it didn't matter. In seconds the two of you were flipped until he was on top of you.

“Let us entangle together to show our love then.” His grin was enough to make your heart speed up as he leaned in, intent on devouring you.

[monayen]

idk if I requested this already or if I dreamt it? so sorry if you get this twice 💦

can you please sort the ivory household + satoru + the ratmen into categories that are sort of like "knows where the clit is", "knows about it but can’t find it" and "has no idea what it is"? thanx ❤️

➷ Paring - Multi x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - explicit afab reader, oral (f. recieving) / cunnilingus, fingering, slight sadism (from nyen)

a/n - might be too similar to the coochie eating headcannons but i find this funny so i will be doing it anyways. also im going to default using this banner when its group headcannons :0

- Knows where the clit is

Luther

Very knowledgeable! Studies human anatomy in depth to get to better know you. Books and webpages… but he knows that nothing compares to the thrill of hands-on experience

Lay down on a table and spread your legs for him while he sits before you. Luther will settle himself between your thighs, one large hand resting possessively on your lower belly, just above the apex of your sex. His his other hand delicately spreads your folds apart, watching for your sweet reactions as he thumbs your clit

Luther knows how precious and sensitive this part of you is, and he makes sure to handle you with the utmost reverence

Nyon

Is a generous and attentive lover – a through and through giver. So he has plenty of experience being down there

When Nyon kneels before you, his face buried between your parted thighs, he really is in his element

He doesn't like to tear his eyes away but even if his eyes were shut, he’d still be able to find your clit perfectly with a swipe of his tongue and a quiver of your thighs. Is humble, but he does take pride in it :)

Satoru

Obsessed with every little part of you. Any touch that has you squirming and moaning beneath him will forever be etched into his sentience. So discovering how rubbing your sensitive clit makes you writhe and arch so beautifully beneath him... it's practically a dream come true! (get it?)

Likes to think he teases, slowly tracing circles around your bud, building the tension until it's nearly unbearable. But his own desire quickly overwhelms him, and soon he's palm-fucking you with a frenzied intensity that leaves you breathless and clutching at the sheets

- Knows what it is but can't find it

Nyen

Maybe less of “can't find it” but more “doesn't touch it” So mean!

Nyen is well aware of how sensitive your clit is, and being the sadistic creature he is, he takes great pleasure in denying you the satisfaction of having it touched. Even when he does allow himself to make contact, Nyen uses his sharp nails to send jolts of painful pleasure coursing through your body

Knows that denying you the bliss of rubbing your aching clit means that you'll be writhing in agony, pleading for any type of release. Pathetic and perfect, just for him

Sebastian

We know he has little experience. Even seeing a pussy for the first time made him so red that you were worried he was going to pass out

Still at least knows about the clitrous though, he's not clueless – just inexperienced. Does it mean he can find it without some assistance? No. But he’ll nervously spread you open as he rubs along your entrance in an attempt to elicit some type of reaction

Too awkward to ask you what he's doing wrong, so unless you’re kind enough to show him… get ready for a lot of trial and error. Kind of endearing

- No idea what it is

All the Ratman

Obvious. They just know it feels good when they sink their dicks into your hole – really good. Foreplay is a foreign concept to them, their minds just set on the singular desire to rut and breed

Micheal and Robert have more of the mind to listen to you when you talk about your clit. Micheal is incredibly eager to please, burying his face between your thighs as his tongue laps sloppily at your tender bud (with heavy guidance, of course) He just loves how you clasp your thighs around his head!

Robert is the one who notices how your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers when he grazes your clit. He commits this to memory, hand sloppily rubbing against your clit as he thrusts into you. Only then the other ratman feel how you twitch around Robert’s cock do they really learn to pleasure you there

Randal

Should definitely know what the clit is – considering he canonically watches hentai. Not the best reference for sexual knowledge… but if he stopped staring at tits, he might have picked up that rubbing there would feel good for you

In his mind, the sole purpose of the clitoris is to provide a source of amusement, perhaps by flicking it with his tongue or pinching it between his fingers until you squirm and whine

You can try to guide him to touch it properly, but he has no idea how to use the knowledge to bring you any real pleasure. His touches are clumsy and insensitive, and he doesn't take anything seriously enough to not want to immediately put his cock in you. Best you’ll get is some overstimulation, baby!

[writingfromabox]

Alone on Thanksgiving? (adamsapple)

Working on a fic using this ad as a prompt because all I can think of is Adam making this post:

Not done yet but I think if I manage to finish it, I’ll put it on AO3. What I have written under the cut:

Adam had placed the ad out of sheer perverse humor, absolutely certain that no one would bother to call him on it. For a short while, he achieved some internet fame as people passed it around on social media, obviously getting a kick out of the idea. He’d joked around with the girls at the bar and tattoo parlor he worked at, saying his Thanksgiving plans were all wrapped up and this was the way he’d be swimming in pussy by the end of the month.

Obviously, the whole thing was meant as a fucking joke. So, when he got the email from a Charlotte Morningstar, he’d been tempted to send her back something rude about her reading comprehension. Like, was it not clear that this was comedy? The fuck. 

He showed it to Lute, who was in the middle of sketching out something for a client: a lion, holding a dagger in its mouth. Her skilled fingers easily traced out the minute details of the animal’s mane, her mouth set into a frown in concentration. The frown slipped into a wicked smirk as she read the email, her eyes lighting up slightly. 

“What’s the problem?” she asked, setting her pencil down and giving him an expression that attempted innocent curiosity. Lute’s face wasn’t made for that, and her sharp amusement made her look like a cat waiting on a mouse to walk into a trap. “I thought this was your big holiday plan. I thought you were looking forward to all the ladies with daddy issues and the ‘fuck you dad’ sex.”

Going to Lute for sympathy for his bad decisions never turned out right, but for some reason he kept trying it. He just grumbled and put the phone back in his pocket.

“Anyway, why not do it?” Lute asked, turning back to her sketch. “It’s free dinner. Your ass doesn’t have family to go to on Thanksgiving. I’m too busy this year to do our usual ‘neither of us can cook’ dinner. You’re extremely good at being an annoying asshole, why not turn it into a fun way to get free turkey?”

Adam folded his arms and tried to be more insulted about that accusation, but the wheels in his head were already turning. Unfortunately. It wasn’t even as though this would be the worst decision he’d made on a holiday, really. That would have been the time one of his biker friends convinced him to dress like the grinch and steal their ex-girlfriend’s Christmas tree. 

The night had ended in mayhem, with the tree sparking a minor electrical fire and Adam ending up tossing it into the outdoor pool. And then ripping off chunks of flaming grinch suit, screaming, as his accomplice hosed him down. 

Apparently, the ex-girlfriend’s kid still had nightmares from watching it out his bedroom window. 

Compared to that shitshow, this would only be a minor sort of shenanigan. Probably something he wouldn’t walk away with a property damage felony with. It wasn’t technically illegal to pick fights by antagonizing someone’s probably elderly, decrepit dad. Unless he, like, actually punched him. And Adam had some amount of self control as long as he didn’t dip into the recreational beverages. 

“Well? Figured out what you’re doing yet?” Lute asked, looking up at him from her spread out stack of sketches. Someone seemed to have ordered one of a goth bear holding a chainsaw. The holidays always brought out the weird shit.

He shrugged, mulling it over. The girl had a whole screed laid out, with a father who was being a dick about her attempts to house and reform former criminals. She’d gone on some rant about the program itself and he zoned out every time he tried to read it, the whole thing seemed like she was some kind of charity ball debutante getting pissy about her dad giving her some hard truths.

Not like it mattered either way to him, in the end, as long as he got a dinner. Adam would be lying if he said it didn’t sound like fun to fuck with someone and get rewarded for it. 

And so it came to pass that Adam decided to agree to be the fake dinner date of this do-gooder princess for Thanksgiving, with about the same amount of logical thought that went into his usual decision making. Which was to say, absolutely none. 

[panpanghost]

Part 6 of this,

Macaque kept his eyes on Wukong as he flew away. When he couldn't see him anymore, loneliness took over his heart.

He just left, Why do I miss him already? Daaaamn *sigh* I'm so pathetic. No time to think like that. Macaque slapped his face with both hands.

The kid is still out there. If only I could use my glamour and talk to him. Come on Macaque, think! There should be a way to talk to him without having to show myself.

Macaque flopped on the bed.

But... Wukong truts him. He left my life in his hands. Maybe I could trust him too. He was with me and Wukong in the room when I woke up. But then I still had my glamour on, I lost most of my magic when I tried to open a portal to get to the kitchen. The more I tried to use my powers the more I lost them. I can't believe how much I've fallen. I need to get better soon, I can't keep being a burden to Wukong. If only I can remember what this crown is, I can break the spell, but most of my memories are gone!

Macaque grabbed a pillow and put it on his face to muffle the scream he was about to let out _"AAAAAGGGHHH!!!! THIS IS FRUSTRATING!"

Macaque let out an angry growl then got up and paced in the room, here and there, thinking of a plan to suck the information dry from that kid.

I only need one spell to work, one to cover my ears, it's ok if the scars stay, I'll just cover them with some clothes, not my eye though...

Something pinched Macaque's heart as he traced his eye. Whatever happened that day, even with no memories, he knows it hurt him deeply. He shook his head and pushed these thoughts back. If it were something important, Wukong would've told him.

Maybe I can cast a strong spell and keep feeding the crown until I've finished with the kid. It'll hurt though... so damn much... Even if I lose my memories again, Wukong will take care of me. I hate the way he treats me like some delicate flower but I hate feeling like a lost idiot even more. I have a lot of information in my brain, hopefully I'll lose some unimportant ones.

This is my only choice.

Macaque stood in the middle of the room. He took a few deep breaths preparing himself for the pain to come. He will regret this, He knows.

One spell later and he could feel needles through his entire body, he wanted to scream but held it in and breathed the pain out as much as he could. On the other hand, one look at the mirror showed him that his plan worked, he just needs to make it for a few minutes without falling or showing he's about to pass out. Easy....

A few steps to the door made him reconsider, it was too much to handle, he must stop-

*Knock knock knock* the knock startled Macaque, he was too focused on the pain to hear anything around him.

_"Macaque are you in there?" the kid spoke to him from behind the door, "I don't mean to bother you but I got some extra noodles for you. It's a get well gift from the gang and me."

Gang? What gang? It doesn't matter. He's here. An opportunity I can't miss.

Macaque opened the door feeling cuts through his body with every move. Just a few more minutes...

_"Oh Macaque!" the kid spoke, his eyes big and full of delight, all because he saw Macaque, it somehow hit a soft spot in Macaque's heart,

"I was worried you wouldn't want to see me. I'm sorry I didn't mean to intrude but I was really worried because I haven't seen you in weeks and whenever I ask Monkey King he'd say you're busy or something and I started to think that you hate me now and don't want to see me because I let you down and..."

This kid needs therapy.

_"Easy kiddo." Macaque said, trying to sound normal, it's like shards of broken glass in his face and throat. But he can handle it, he'll feel worse if he kept being useless to Wukong. "I was just upset that's all."

_"Really?" the kid looked at him like a puppy in the rain. Why does he look so much like Wukong?!

_"Of course. You've done nothing wrong." Macaque spoke trying his best to hold on, this kid is a chatty one, a golden goose for information.

_"Thanks.." The kid said, looking a little relieved, "Uhh... Can I come in?" he asked, hints of anxiety on his face even with the smile.

_"Sure." Macaque stepped away from the door, holding his breath, holding the sounds of pain, then let out a long exhale,

_"You seem down." The kid said, putting the bags on the table then turning to face Macaque, eying him with worry.

_"This whole thing is tiring me." Macaque said with a little reassuring smile,

_"Yeh.. ok..." the kid looked down, then sat on the bed before he spoke again, "Umm... Thank you."

_"Hm?" What for?

_"You know... For staying, even though you and monkey king aren't on good terms." the kid still couldn't hold his gaze up to Macaque, he just looked to his side,

_"Good terms?" I'm not on good terms with Wukong? Why?

_"OK. Fine. You hate each other. But still... I'm happy you accepted our help. I was so worried you'd dissappear the second you got better."

We hate each other? I left before? When? Why?

_"Well, I hit a dead end at one point, the sooner this is over, the better it is." Macaque shrugged then headed to the noodles, he can hold on just a little longer,

_"Are you- Are you leaving once we solve this?"

_"..." What is he talking about?

_"Can't you stay? I mean is it really that bad to be around us?"

_"I'll think about it once this thing is off." I don't know either kid,

_"You're staying!" the kid literally glowed,

_"I didn't say that. I said I'll think about it when we get to it." Macaque said turning to face the kid,

_"I'll take that as a maybe." he smiled at him that mischievous smile,

_"*sigh* So?"

_"Hm?"

_"Did you find anything useful?" Macaque could feel his heartbeat grow faster, he's runnig out of time,

_"Oh! We found out its name but we still can't tell what it's for. Monkey king said he'd look into it, so we're waiting for him."

_"What's its name?" Hurry up kid!

_"Monkey king didn't tell you? It's the corrupted king's crown, but the info we found about it-" The kid stopped as he saw Macaque's face fill with terror, "Macaque?"

_"The corrupted king's crown..." Macaque muttered before the pain got 10× worse, the crown isn't just taking his magic anymore, it's trying to kill him,

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" he yelled and fell to his knees holding his head, trying desperately to get the crown off,

_"Macaque!" the kid yelled and ran to him,

_"KID LISTEN! AGH! They want- They want to put- *pant pant* egh- someone- else's soul in my body-"

_"Who?!" MK doesn't understand anything, what's happening to Macaque?!

_"The- The king has guards- AAAAAAAAAGH!"

_"I'll get Monkey King!" The kid stood up, looking around for help or where to start,

_"DON'T. AAAAAGH! DON'T-" Macaque couldn't say another word before he passed out.

The room fell silent. MK stood there for a second not knowing what to do. He needs help, Macaque is in worse shape than he thought, what should he do? Who should he call? Should he just wait for Macaque to wake up? What should he do?

(I know it took too long and it's not that good but I tried my best ok? T^T. I still don't like it though but I'm glad it ended.

And yes, still no title, I don't know where this is going so I can't come up with a name.)

[cool-cube]

Finally continuing the "artificial aliens" group after not having any ideas with them for a bit. I don't care if it's November, I wanna do a scary dude. This one here's called Catacomb.

Catacomb is the Omnitrix's DNA sample of a Grimmanuran from an unknown planet. Grimmanurans are arguably the most secretive & reclusive of the artifical species, mainly due to causing the extinction of their creators. Grimmanurans were made by the same species that made the Cygnians and Accymentrians. While Accymentrians were meant for defense & Cygnians for emotional support during war times, the Grimmanurans were healers, but also fearmongers. Their horrifying appearance inspired by the creatures of Anur frightened enemies & their death-seering capabilities caused them to fear their final days, but it also drove the species mad. Their powers were more of a curse than anything. They looked up to their creators, so why were they cursed with such a massive burden. This thought process caused the Grimmanurans to start an uprising. They ruthlessly slaughtered their former idols & kept their corpses half-alive. They were still conscious but felt every bit of pain that would've normally killed them; a sick reminder of what they did to them. After this mass extinction event, the Grimmanurans seemingly vanished. Few traces of their existence even existed & it was presumed they had all offed themselves after offing their creators. It was only when Ben transformed into Catacomb for the first time, that the Grimmanurans began to show their faces again. Not wanting Ben to ever go through what they did, groups of them wanted to destroy the watch & Ben, as that would apparently be the only cure for the burden they bear.

Catacomb is one of Ben's most powerful & risky aliens to use. Not nessecarily because of physical strength, though. Catacomb can release little green zaps from his fingertips to attack others. On a living person, these do minimal amounts of damage. However, zapping dead people will reanimate them to their former self. If they died fairly recently (within the last month), their body will regenerate to how it was before it died. After this time period, the reanimate doesn't heal & becomes a walking corpse for Catacomb to puppeteer. Catacomb's swollen eye can see the death of whoever he's looking at with his other eye. Only he can see it & he can't project it to others. This was given to the Grimmanurans so that they'd always know the perfect time to heal someone, but as mentioned before, drove them insane. Catacomb also possesses enhanced agility & durability.

As stated earlier, Catacomb is a risky alien to use. Not only are his powers very morally dubious, but Ben can't turn off his death-seering, shut his eye or simply ignore it. Same goes for all Grimmanurans. Ben will be forced to live with knowing when his loved ones died. Catacomb has only been used two times because of this. Once when he was first unlocked at 19, once by Ben at 24 to bring Kevin back to life after suffering fatal injuries. Ben 10K will try to use him in fusions in attempt to avoid the death-seering, but he has no idea if he'll keep his other power or even get rid of it. Aside from that, Catacomb is not a physical fighter, and has to rely on reanimated bodies to fight for him. His insides are also partially exposed due to the bandages visible from underneath ripped skin.

[itanglethingsup]

Did Blake just boldly use the word girlfriend? Yes was he insane for using the word after just a day of meeting Melanie. Of hearing her laugh; getting the opportunity to know her. Yes, and Blake was a known risk taker; perhaps a part of him feared when he did get discharged; that he wouldn’t see Melanie, wouldn’t express how important her support, her care had been. He liked her; our harmless flirting; a breath of fresh air now. As he leaned into the liking another girl. Plus let’s be honest Blake had no game whatsoever. 

It was a miracle that she ended up liking him all the same. He was nearly beaming at her phasing she agreed to call herself his girlfriend. Oh his heart was swelling up now. It was a miracle the beeping didn’t intercept the room with his racing heart. But he slowly recomposed himself now; as he heard Dr. Halstead come to enter the room. Dragging his eyes from the beauty that was Melanie and to the doctor, he wore that contained lopsided grin of his now. And he nodded; he was being discharged. He still ached, with bruised rips was obvious. But Blake felt giddy for his escape; his purpose on the job. His family, and besides Melanie and himself had already made plans to see the other again. A blessing, a sliver lining in his visit at med. “ Thank you Dr. Halstead, and keep up the great bedside manner you and your lovely nurses have here.” I added. I know corny, Blake was attempting a big impression on how appreciative he was when it came to his nurse, her abilities to show concern, to hold a hand in this process. Once the pair were along he wasted no time in adverting his hues back to the blonde. A soft gracious smile laced along his lips. 

She was worried about him, While also dishing out huge compliments to his character. It was sweet, he swore he hid the way his face reacted. Glancing around the area to ensure no one was glancing through the clear windows. He reached for her hand; tracing his pinky finger along the outline of her thumb, as a softest trailed over his features. “ Thank you, and deep down I know I did it all, I survived because of my bravery back then, I just wished kid me was faster..” Its what motivated all the stops the high risks, the climbing up ladders and fire escapes, it was pumped through my blood. But I had meaning; a person to side outside of the job. “ I’m excited to leave, I have a few days before I can go back to the house. But I hope that means you won’t forget about your favorite patient..” A hidden meaning; a visit as promised, that coy expression now, after all we had to keep it innocent and airy between us..

continued

@irockbluescrubs

It was my nature to get tangled up. It was beyond the risks Blake tended to take. He was the man that climbed up a 12 story building, he was the guy that swung through ropes in order to reach a person in need. You could say he was a daredevil. He had gotten scolded at the start at 51 because of his risk tenacity. Borden was only trying to protect his men; and Casey he was why I was still at 51. He fought for me, and given my story it made sense why I’d go to bat for innocent people. I was only a child when I lost my parents, my sister to a fire. I was on my own. I was the one that had to be strong; I was the one who had to get their life together because I had a life to live. 

I knew the dangers of walking into fires; I knew how to handle the job; and honestly today was a pure accident; but in my eyes a nice one. Because due to my injuries I was now in the same room as this beautiful girl; Melanie, and i felt it that spark i haven’t felt in a long time. I felt that spark you never want to let dim. I knew I was only teasing; the gentle tone in my voice said it all. “ Jello was the game changer, you see I’m a sucker for jello, it’s how I healed myself each time I got sick.” Not that was true; along with a bunch of cold medicine, but he wanted to show the connection why she had him at the mention of jello. Not to mention his attempt to save her from an idiot doctor who simply never got the hint. So now that we made it known we had a jello date; we had to follow through with it right? 

It was easy; to pretend outside these hospital walls the reality didn’t exsit. Gallo wasn’t the guy to flirt easier; and let’s be honest he was probably coming up short with her. But he also felt the blonde was flirting back with him; it wasn’t an idea he convinced himself of in his head. Melanie liked him; it was clear with her next comment; that she’d want to see him again. Now Gallo glanced to the white sheets on the bed as he attempted to conceal the smile that dared to tug along his lips. He was the mess up; he was the guy who fumbled with words, who never said what he felt; but with her; he wanted to test the boundaries. It was wrong; he was a patient in her care nor would he ever want to risk her career; but he also had to tease her on her own remark. 

“ So what I’m hearing is you want to see me again even if I get injured or not, normally we end the first date before admitting you want to see the guy again.” A joke based on the lame movies he’s seen with Violet and Ritter; there was a whole list of films this situation would fit for. Regardless; he’d even tag along with Brett and Violet to deliver paperwork, or do a health check up if it meant he’d see her again. Point was he did want to see her again; where he wasn’t glued to a hospital bed. Once the pillows were done being fluffed; the male had inched himself to lay down, head hitting the fluffed pillows, a lazy smile came to his lips. 

Head tilted to the side; as his gaze was drawn right back to her; her eyes, her smile it came the knots form in the pit of his stomach. He was flattered she wanted to share a piece of her. Why she was a nurse; it made sense. Experiences in life is what dictate our careers; I could say the same for myself. “ I’m happy to hear you haven’t had any more almost injuries; maybe you can sparkle those good sprits on me.” Another joke; as he fought the urge to extend his arm out to her; but that would definitely be seen as crossing a long. 

“ My family died in a fire when I was a kid, my parents my sister, and I was hopeless. I survived, and sometimes it doesn’t feel like I deserve it. It’s why I became a firefighter. Why I will always go the extra mile to save people because a firefighter did that for me. They didn’t give up when my sister my parents were too burnt up to tell a face. They saved me.” It’s who I was; the savior; the guy that will go above and beyond. Lips pushed together to hold any tear that dared to fall at the memory; it was hard to talk about but Melanie she shared a piece of herself; so I felt I could with her. I trusted her. 

Brushing the vulnerable state off; I had echoed out my reply to the jello. “ Do i have anymore test to do or can we jump right to the jello?”

[dutybcrne]

From a very young age, Kaeya held such a fondness for handholding. Whether it was his father clinging tightly to him to make sure he didn’t get lost, Adelinde’s gentle, grounding hand closed over his to comfort him whenever his nerves got the better of him, Crepus’s rough-palmed, firm yet comforting grip as he brought him back home, or, as it was most often of all, Diluc’s warm, yet at times uncomfortably tight hold as he dragged him anywhere, everywhere, determined to always keep Kaeya close and eagerly show him all there was to see, Kaeya treasured the gesture greatly.

Of course, being as shy as he was, initiating it himself was always the harder part. So much so, he would tend to hold pinkies, rather than outright take a person’s hand in his own. Eventually, it would become his most common way to go about the gesture of affection.