#hes the best at everything clearly and everyone must love him

[sixteenthchapel]

Do you have any fun/personal head-cannons for the Pilgrims?

Hmmm.. I don't know if this really counts as a headcanon, but I guess something I think is funny about how I see the relationship between Wukong and Trip is this.

Monkey being torn between hating the priest that put him in this position and put the headband on him, and always wanting to be number one is every single thing. Monkey doesn't accept second place and doesn't get why he can't be super mean and rude to Tripitaka all the time and not also be the priest's favorite disciple.

He should simply have everything, it's not that complicated in his head LOL

[jensthwa]

show & tell (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.

PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: childhood best friends to ?

WORD COUNT: 8k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.

NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: july 18th 2024.

masterlist. / part two.

“Delete her number right now!” 

“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…” 

“And over text too? Wow.” 

“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.” 

Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing. 

Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused. 

You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news. 

He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi. 

Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another. 

But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine. 

“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.

“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.” 

“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you. 

Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.” 

“So you do know?” 

“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.

“Huh?” 

“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.” 

Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing. 

You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue. 

So you take mercy on him. 

“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever. 

“You truly are amazing.” 

Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.” 

“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit. 

“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days. 

This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm. 

“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?” 

“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”

You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss. 

When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him. 

Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi. 

His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing. 

You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings. 

Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken. 

Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year. 

You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment. 

Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time. 

In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well. 

He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed. 

That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind. 

One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.

He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head. 

“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.” 

He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”

You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way bsck in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would csll you love because that's what good boyfriend's do. 

Turns out, you weren't exactly his friends type. Neither were the other girls in your school. 

“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.” 

“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way. 

And in the solitude of your room, you wait. 

You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring. 

Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end. 

“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you. 

“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.” 

“How do you do it?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?” 

Oh. 

Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him. 

It caughts off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.” 

“You have such a way with words, though.” 

You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.” 

“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.” 

“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.” 

“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…” 

“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?” 

“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.” 

“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.” 

“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later. 

“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.” 

“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again. 

“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff. 

You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life. 

Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do. 

“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed. 

Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.” 

You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.” 

“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.” 

His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—” 

“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.” 

“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.” 

“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see. 

“Are you writing this down?!” 

“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!” 

“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—” 

“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.” 

You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you. 

Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot. 

Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass. 

“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.” 

“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.” 

You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pijamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what were you telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door. 

“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest. 

He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”  

When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight. 

Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you. 

“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share. 

God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane. 

You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime. 

“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.” 

“Company dinner.” 

“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird. 

You gulp. 

“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.” 

You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.” 

“You sound like you're reading a text book.” He confesses with a laugh. 

“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.” 

“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return. 

“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else. 

He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?” 

“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.” 

Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes. 

“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.” 

“Front wall?” 

“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.” 

“O… kay.” 

“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot. 

The AC’s on, right? 

Fuck. 

“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed. 

Mingi clears his throat a second later. 

“So it feels hard to the touch or…” 

“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.” 

He laughs “What?” 

“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.” 

“You didn't drink enough water?” 

“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice. 

Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that? 

“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?” 

“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.” 

“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?” 

“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”

What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure. 

Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next? 

“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.” 

“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!” 

“Sorry!” 

“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.” 

That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself. 

In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality. 

When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers. 

“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line. 

A bit passes. 

And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face. 

So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it. 

“Then show me.” 

You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry. 

It just never affected you this way. 

“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on. 

“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.” 

“Mingi!” 

“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.” 

“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up. 

“San's ex?!” 

“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!” 

He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything. 

“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”

There it is. 

You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest. 

So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request. 

“I've never done it in front of anyone before.” 

“So no one has ever make you—” 

“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—” 

“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you. 

“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me on this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper. 

“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.” 

That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment. 

Fuck it. 

“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down. 

Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.” 

You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy. 

You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed. 

You're so wet. 

And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.

Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.

And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake. 

“These will do?” 

You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him. 

“Yep.” 

You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection. 

“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?” 

“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you. 

“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?” 

“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?” 

“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?” 

“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…” 

You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind. 

And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.

Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.

Oh God, you want to kiss him. 

His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?” 

Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.” 

You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch. 

“How do you like being kissed?” 

You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours. 

It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would. 

Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair. 

His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before. 

That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn. 

Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again. 

The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt. 

You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?” 

Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant. 

Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it. 

Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.” 

You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him. 

You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should. 

There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them. 

And he notices it too. 

“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.” 

You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.” 

Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw. 

“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…” 

Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…” 

“Am I wrong?” 

You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again. 

“Of course I'm not.” 

You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most. 

“Can I take this off?” 

“Fuck, y-yes.” 

Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere. 

“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with you hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.” 

He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well. 

But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed. 

“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.” 

“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?” 

“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.” 

“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.” 

“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well. 

The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't. 

“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?” 

He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better. 

You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling. 

You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck. 

You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well. 

“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.” 

“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.” 

“Y-you do?” 

“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself. 

“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your index makes its way into your cavity without much effort. 

Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.

“And then, two fingers.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even noticed before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?” 

He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied. 

Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to. 

And it's all because of him. 

You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and… 

He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight. 

You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.

But Mingi is not just any man. 

“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.” 

“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—” 

“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.” 

His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out. 

“Prove that bitch wrong.” 

That seems to do it. 

His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected. 

Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him. 

His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise. 

“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you. 

Fuck. 

It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it. 

“That feels so good…” 

“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips. 

You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.” 

The worries die altogether with that. 

And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop. 

It's not long before his index joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort. 

His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement. 

“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.” 

He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.

“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?” 

Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!” 

He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing. 

You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit. 

When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do. 

A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing. 

Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did. 

That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life. 

And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it. 

Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression. 

It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride. 

You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago. 

“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.” 

And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him. 

But you don't mind it one bit. 

You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace. 

This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you. 

“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality. 

Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings. 

“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.” 

The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own. 

Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock. 

Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours. 

“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N” 

“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…” 

“Fuck, don't beg me, love.” 

“Don't make me beg, then.” 

What the fuck are you even doing? 

“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why. 

But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through. 

He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now. 

“Bathroom. Now.” 

You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.

Don't get caught. 

Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens. 

When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle. 

“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!” 

“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.

You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that. 

“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..” 

“You think?” cocking your head to side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point. 

He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now. 

You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway. 

“Okay, we're safe now.” 

“When were we ever not safe?” 

“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!” 

He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back. 

You clear your throat. 

“I really did want to help you out but—” 

“Raincheck?” he asks and at you hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He smiles again “Good, uh…” 

Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here. 

Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. 

“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper. 

“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone. 

That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner. 

“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.” 

Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him. 

It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much. 

It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic. 

“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod. 

“See you tomorrow.” 

And with that, he leaves. 

You lock the door and practically run to your room after. 

What the fuck have you done?

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part! 

© jensthwa, 2024.

[catknives]

soulmate-esque au where steve is born with a psychic power where the first time he touches someone who will be important to him, he gets flashes of future moments between the two of them.

the first time he touches nancy he sees flashes of the two of them happy together, then an argument. the flashes clearly jump ahead a few years, as if they maybe stopped talking for a while, but they still look happy in that future. he thinks that maybe they get in a big fight, but clearly they’re still in each others lives for a long, long time.

when he ruffles dustin’s hair looking for dart, he gets flashes of laughter and jokes and a long life of brotherhood. he sees secret handshakes and little plastic dice and being invited to thanksgiving.

they’re not always positive. the first time he brushes past billy in the locker room, he’s filled with flashes of anger and dread and pain, and none of what he sees makes sense in the moment.

on his first day at scoops, he shakes robin’s hands and gets his biggest vision yet. there’s so much love and happiness and joy there, including a montage in which they seem to work a frankly absurd variety of jobs. but he gets stuck on an image of himself in a tux, robin in a wedding dress, and thinks this must be my future wife.

it isn’t until much later, on a dirty bathroom floor, that he realizes he was standing behind robin in that vision of her in a wedding dress, and, oh, he’s her best man.

almost a year later, when eddie pushes him against a wall with a broken bottle to his neck, steve is almost convinced he’s passed out because of the sheer number of visions running through his head. some of the flashes are innocent happy moments—sharing a joint, laughing at a movie, making dinner—but there’s also flashes of pleasure and adoration and devotion on a level that steve’s never felt before.

he sees flashes of waking up next to eddie in bed, walking a dog around a lake hand in hand, watching eddie perform on stage, a soft kiss to a bare shoulder.

and suddenly steve yearns, thinks he’s never fully known the meaning of that word until now. he tries to play it cool, doesn’t want to freak eddie out, but he’s seen so many visions of them holding hands that his fingers itch with the need to interlace with eddie’s.

when eddie is attacked by demobats, everyone tries to get steve and dustin to leave eddie’s body behind, because clearly eddie is dead. and steve can’t explain to them why he knows that can’t be true, he just stubbornly insists and drags eddie to a hospital as he promises again and again to dustin that eddie is going to make it.

everyone but steve is shocked when the doctors find the barest hint of a pulse.

it’s touch and go at first, but they put eddie in a medically induced coma and he starts to improve. steve is there the whole time. he tells the unconscious eddie about all of the things they still have to do together, about how he knows eddie will live a long, happy life because he’s seen eddie with gray in his hair, laugh lines etched into his face, as they welcome their first grandchild to the world.

and eddie makes it, and when he was up eddie tells steve he heard everything. steve steels himself for denial or disbelief, but eddie tells him that it’s the first thing he’s heard in the past month that actually makes sense.

they share their first kiss right there in the hospital room, and even though steve has seen this moment before, it still takes his breath away.

as he grows older, steve notices more and more of the moments he’s seen in visions as they happen. he happily discovers that there’s so much the visions don’t show, and there’s still so much to see.

because yes, just like he saw all those years ago, he stands behind robin at her wedding, and it’s as moving and special as it always looked. but he also gives max away at her and lucas’s wedding, and he helps dustin propose to suzie, and he helps erica pick out her wedding dress. and, of course, robin stands behind steve at his own wedding.

steve lives a long happy life, with so many memories—seen and unseen—to look forward to.

[loaksbitch]

blame tumblr for deleting my draft and make me rework this with rush— now girlies, imagine jealous neteyam pull you to his side, claiming you as his yes? this is the long awaited update (pt 3) of the i trusted you series.

warnings - hard angst, vulgar language, jealous neteyam i repeat, JEALOUSY NETEYAM! ugh, cussing, neteyam is tired of hurting and trying, kiri is best girl for boosting up neteyam to make a step kinda? that’s it for now!

likes and reblogs are appreciated for the final part! i love each and every one of you babies mwah!! — 3.2k wc and poor-ish grammar

“i want to trust you.” — neteyam sully (★,꩜)

here’s part (one) – (two) — (four) of this series

neteyam’s state wasn’t good when he went back home.

you’re leaving the clan because of him, you’re leaving your home, your childhood, your everything because of him.

you’re leaving him because of him.

still not accepting the words you’ve said to him, he hadn’t noticed his younger sister waiting for him right when he got back to the village, hunting long forgotten.

kiri on other hand had enough, she’s tired of seeing her brother suffer for what he was trying to make right, especially after that night. the night she saw her perfect brother kneel in front of a female na’vi begging you not to go.

“neteyam,” his name being called, pulls him out from his thoughts and his tired eyes land on his sister who has her arms crossed against her chest. “what part of leave me alone don’t they understand?” neteyam silently says under his breath

“you know i can hear you right?” kiri scoffs

“what part of i want to be alone don’t you all understand?” this time he says it clearly and louder. neteyam doesn’t give her time before walking past her and if only if it wasn't for her next words? he wouldn’t have frozen at his spot.

“if you love her, go for her.”

there she goes again, now he needs to tell her he doesn’t want to hear anything about that future mate of his, that female na’vi he doesn’t even want.

“kiri.” he starts to turn and face her, his amber eyes swollen and puffy it makes her sad. “i’ll say this for the last time, i don’t want anyone to bring äy—“

“i’m not talking about äyea and you know it.”

his heart dropped, amber eyes slightly widening like he was caught. neteyam searches for more explanation from his sister, kiri softly smiles and he definitely knows who she’s talking about

“y/n, neteyam, i’m talking about y/n.” his skin itches at your name being called and he walks fast to his sister before grabbing her by her arms. nobody has to know, not like this and he won't risk to lose you like this

“look, you can’t tell no one, okay?” he’s shaking his sister so hard that her shoulders are hurting. “i can't lose her, if the clan knows they’ll take her away from me.” his body is trembling, neteyam’s mind was too occupied with the worst scenarios that would happen if they find out about you just like this.

kiri closes her eyes and calms herself before trying to do the same for her brother. “nete, calm down” she places her small hands on his cheek. “you’ve to calm down, for her?” she knew you’re his weakness and he would do anything with your name

“i won’t tell anyone.” kiri watches neteyam’s eyes blink, confused and processing her words, “but you must tell them, everyone, tell everyone neteyam.”

he’s slowly sliding his hands down her arms and letting her go, what is she saying?

“i saw everything, the night she knew about it and how you were.” kiri didn’t want to look like she sneaked into someone's business. “i’ve never seen you so weak like this brother, you’re giving up something that makes you happy.”

where is this going? why is she not yelling at him that he failed to be perfect?

“i know you’re soon to be mated but why when you’re not happy? not wanting it, not in love.” neteyam takes every word of hers carefully. “if this is the future you want with her then make a progress.”

“i’m tired of hearing you cry yourself to sleep, starve yourself and worry mom and dad.” he felt like a child. “i’m sorry,” he murmurs and kiri sighs, “you don’t have to apologize for everything.”

neteyam was feeling his heartbeats quickening at his younger sister's words but it’s also painful when he remembers he can’t do that cause you’re gonna be gone, soon… very soon.

“she’s le-leaving,” his words are cut when his voice quivers, kiri gasps at the news. “she said she feels like she doesn’t belong here.” he’s now looking down to avoid kiri’s eyes or he’ll cry

“she’s leaving me, kiri” his sister only pulls him close to hug him and he drops his body on her, head on her shoulder. “i love her and she’s leaving, i’m losing her.” he wants the pain to end, he’s tired of hurting

“oh brother.” kiri pats his head, even though neteyam was the smartest and perfect to hide his emotions, this was too much. he’s literally crumbling down. “it’ll be okay, everything will be okay.”

“it will be okay, everything will be okay.” your mother pats your hair when you lean on her shoulders and cry. all you do is cry, you feel bad.

you’re debating on leaving everything behind and running to your neteyam but then again there’s his future mate being a wall to your love. “it’ll be over soon when we leave.”

if not soulmates why bound to fall in love and hurt?

eywa was not fair, she’s not fair with her doings and you don’t want it. you want him, you want your man, you want neteyam, you miss him so bad.

the ritual is in two days and you’re not ready to watch them or give them your blessing as a part of a clan. once the ceremony is done you know they’ll go home, you don’t even want to think what they’ll do after that.

they’ll have a fruit of love, a baby in the future… what about you? supposed to move on? no, you can’t do that.

“we’ve got to get ready, my sweet child,” your mother says as she eyes the hammock that sheltered you for years. everything is packed, ready and done.

while you’re struggling to make the pain hurt less, neteyam is struggling to make his heart beat less.

it’s now an eclipse and everyone is ready for dinner, “mom! what’s for dinner?” tuk whines when netyiri brings the bowls and trays at the wooden table. “you’ll see baby” she kneels down to finally join her family.

it doesn’t fail to catch her by surprise when her first born is sat across the right side of the table. “neteyam?” her eyes start to whelm when her son smiles at her, oh how she missed having him around the table to eat with them.

“he’s here just like you want him.” jake says and neteyam nods.

neytiri only lets soft laugh out and places a bowl for him. “eat this, it’ll help you get strength for your training.” she motions him to take his food.

kiri silently watches everyone, a smile painting her lips as she sips on her soup.

“tastes good?” neteyam nervously nods, the only thing he’s thinking is a way to bring up his love topic to them. it wasn’t much late before he’s opening his mouth to speak and lo’ak suddenly interrupted

“dad, mom i ne–…”

“tuk stop doing that, you’ll choke.” lo’ak scolds at his sister and neteyam shuts his lips quick. maybe it’s the right thing not to say anything right now.

“tuk, listen to your brother honey” jake says and turns to neteyam, “what were you saying son?”

neteyam shakes his head, “never mind i’ll talk to you guys later.” he doesn’t ignore how kiri lightly groans when he backs out. “i’ll head inside now.” he rubs his sweaty hands on his thighs and gets back to his feet

“you didn’t even touch your food.” now that’s a lie, he actually scooped two times and ate.

“i ate mom, it’s delicious t-thanks.” he hates when the last word breaks. on eywa he’s so nervous.

kiri was quick to follow his steps when he left and luckily her parents didn't question. she was fast to catch up with her brother and yanks his arms to make him face her, “what was that?” she raises her eyebrows

“what was what?”

“don’t play dumb with me right now.” kiri warns and neteyam clears his throat

“i’m scared okay!” he hissed, “i’m so fucking nervous my skin is crawling to leave my bones.” his sister only rolls her eye, “seriously— we’ve talked about this! not being a little scared ass to be telling them.”

“what happened to that?” she crosses her arms.

“kiri,” he sighs and drops his head down, shoulders easing. “you don’t understand how dangerous this is, what if–“

“what if they hurt her?”

neteyam was awfully silent and that answers her question. “you know mom and dad, they don’t do anything about what you care and love…” kiri slowly stops when neteyam shakes his head

“not them,” it’s not them he’s scared of, it’s äyea’s parents he’s scared of, he knows they would do anything to make their little perfect daughter that matches with him, or whatever they say.

kiri presses her lips to a straight line before clicking her tongue.

this is gonna be a bad idea or the best idea she has ever made and decided to tell him aways. neteyam’s eyes widen when his sister pulls him away from their family, what she’s gonna tell him is the only chance to get you back and win your trust and she’s sure neteyam will do it,

do anything for you.

೫ time skip — mating ritual ceremony

your new outfit makes your curves more defined, way more defined than your usual loin clothes that you wear.

your skin shining smoothly, the leaves barely covering your breast, you looked ethereal with your hair not braided and freely displayed all over your shoulders

“honey, are you ready?”

your mother’s words make you gulp and suck a deep breath. “we must be there early to leave early!” she tells while being in the other room.

you finally check yourself and talk back, “yeah, i’m ready.” you whisper morley to yourself? swallowing the lump on your throat.

“yeah, i’m ready.” neteyam closes his eyes and breaths trying to focus on not messing up everything, he’s not even sure if you’ll show up and some part of him wishes you do show up

extra loincloths and decorations on his body makes him uncomfortable with its weight crushing him down.

netyiri proudly looks at her son’s figure while the kids are outside, “mother.” the sudden call of her name, netyiri answers quickly. “what is it? nervous?”

neteyam gulps down his fear and walks to her, “i love you” netyiri feels her eyes tear up and smile at him, “your mom loves you too, baby.” neteyam envelopes her with a hug and netyiri cries to his shoulder telling him how he’s grown up

“now don’t mess my face up with tears! let’s get you ready there.” it’s time to face reality and wait for his soon to be mate come

when he’s out of his hammock, he’s greeted with his family smiling at him and jake’s proud smile. even half of the clan was standing at his hammock.

“neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan” everyone chants and neteyam feels his inside clench in discomfort. he doesn’t want this if it’s not with you, everything makes him sick. “c’mon son, let’s get you to the trees of voice, your mate is waiting.”

what the fuck, that was what neteyam said inside his head. what does his father mean when he’s gonna meet his mate under the trees of voice? it was all about you and him, neteyam would never mate with some random girl he is set up with in a place with memories filled with yours

neteyam turns to his sister and kiri has the same expression because what is this bullshit?

“nete’ she’s waiting for you.” his mother placed her hand on his back. no, no, no— his own feet are betraying him when he realize he’s walking and the clan opens way for him straight long line created till where he’s supposed to see äyea

you on other hand stand in line with the people and pray under your breath for eywa to give you a strength not to cry or make a scene, especially when they will be bound where you thought you and neteyam would have been

it doesn’t take long when starts to cheer as the future Olo'eyktan starts to get closer and closer.

lo’ak was the first one you saw from the sully families while he’s holding tuk close to him so she won’t get lost in the crowed. “Aeyaeyaeyaeyaye!” the clan yells

neteyam’s eyes keep searching for specific someone which is you, eyes desperately looking for you and feeling more scared and anxious when he can’t figure out your face from the crowd he takes a deep breath

you finally take his figure to your sight and god he was so beautiful.

your breath hitches at his appearance, the dangling material on his forehead making him look more attractive than he already is, you realize it’s so hard to let go of him.

you suck a deep breath when his eyes lands at yours and neteyam halts his pace, confusing everyone for a second. your tears are fast to blur your vision and you blink before looking away from him

his heart cracks when you do look away, you don’t want to see him and he understands

once neteyam passed you, the crowd surrounds him and cheers when he stepped close to where äyea is found.

you hate how your mother looks at you sympathetically while her hands grip yours tighter, “it’ll be over soon” she whispers to you but you shrug her off, only watching things unfold in front of you as your heart breaks

“it will be over soon.” neteyam says to himself

it’s sickening how everyone can’t notice this is not supposedly to happen, kiri’s plan better work or he’ll seriously fuck this ritual up and run away with you.

“son.” äyea’s father greets him and neteyam, bringing his hand to his forehead. “ty’mar, i see you.” he then turns to his soon to be mate’s mother and repeat his actions.

the way äyea was smiling makes your throat hurt from desperately wanting to cry.

‘no, don’t tell her you see her neteyam. please. please.’

äyea softly giggles when neteyam stands in front of her and blush, “neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan” the way she tries to voice out his name makes neteyam feel sick.

“i see you.” she says but neteyam doesn’t bother to say it back making her smile slightly fall.

netyiri also notices how neteyam is acting, what would possibly be bothering him? definitely not everything.

after everyone was introduced to each other, the ceremony began. drinks were served, everyone clapping and dancing to the songs the na’vi’s are singing.

you’re a little far away from the crowd to breath clear air and dry your tears that constantly burn your eyes. your eyes are on neteyam who isn’t enjoy one bit of the ceremony while his soon to be mate squirms and waves her hands up

both of them are sitting on a throne-like wooden chair, both of their parents beside them just say like them.

this is so depressing how awkward and uncomfortable it looks and actually is. you think, brining the drink to your mouth

you didn’t notice the na’vi male sneaking behind you that actually has been staring at you since you joined the crowd in line. “enjoying the party from far doesn’t seem too boring after all.”

you’re now jumping in fear when a breath hits the back of your ear.

“mother eyaw! who the fu–” you scream and stumble in panic, but before you’re falling you feel strong arms hold you on your ground. “shit, I should've announced i came, i’m sorry.”

you’re about to tell him it’s okay and leave when he’s offering his hand for a shake.

“i’m no’xus, by the way.” great, now you’re stuck talking with someone.

“y/n.” you say and turn over to place your drink on the talk flat table looking object, it’s obvious you’re ignoring him and uninterested but he keeps talking

“why’re you not dancing?” the tall na’vi asks and you face him before speaking, “because i don’t want to?” you just want this over and privacy, how hard can it get to understand!?

“mhm,” the male hums, “wanna dance with me?” at his offer, you scoff mentally and realize you’re not getting him away from you soon– before you reject him, a strong glare radiating from far makes your body tingle

it was neteyam, sending glares to the male who was next to you while sitting far away.

you didn’t bother it at first but the way neteyam’s face twists makes your brow raise. why is he bothered? jealous? if no’xus had not cleared his throat, you would’ve forgotten about what he just said.

“look notoxo, i really don’t feel like…” you watch him awkwardly chuckle and correct you.

“it’s no’xus not notoxo.”

“you know what? fuck it, let’s dance.” you’re pulling him to the crowd, maybe it’s the drink or maybe it’s him, it’s neteyam making you do this.

your mother was long gone to where you don’t know, no’xus was just a bonus to get your frustration out and you’re now dancing with him. too occupied to bother, you haven’t noticed how neteyam’s nose are flaring in anger

neteyam watches how you’re dancing and it’s very obvious it’s targeted to get him out of his mind

he is not even listening to äeya and brought himself up from his throne-like seat. rage and anger is in him, this needs to fucking stop or he’ll rip the male’s hand that’s holding you by your waist and moving you sides to side

all of his fear gone when the na’vi’s eyes are on him when he’s stepping down from his seat and walking straight to you

neteyam ignores his father’s call, sight on you and you only. you didn’t notice how he’s dangerously close until no’xus stopped his moving. “what is it?” you’re annoyed when your distracted self is brought back to reality

“put your hands off of her.” it was an order and no’xus looked at him manically. “i’m not fucking repeating myself.” all the na’vi’s are confused, even his parents and äeya’s family.

your body is jerked away from the stranger you just met and you hiss when neteyam tugs you close to him. what is he thinking? in front of everyone? his last words makes the whole omatikaya village gasp and whisper.

“fucking let go of what’s mine and find your own mate.” neteyam scowl’s dangerously.

how’re we feeling, sweets? are we feeling anxious? excited? invested? spill in the comments cause i love reading your thoughts sjsjsj

also do you guys want a toe curling smut at the end or no? since neteyam is aged up!20 years old in this series, lmk in the comments if you want smut — tag list in the comments &lt;3

[munsonluhvr]

can you make a virgin! Eddie x experienced ! reader smut plsssssss I’ve been wanted to read to read a good story abt something like that yk 🙈 but ima not be picky sooo anything Eddie x reader would be good 😋

Ty I love your stories 💙💙💙

ANATOMY LESSON

contents: virgin!eddie munson x experienced! reader. smut! 18+. Eddie reveals to you, his best friend, that he's a virgin and you offer him a little lesson - but the lesson turns into a lot more then either of you expected. word count - 3.5k

notes: dear requester - I love you for requesting this. There were sooo many different scenarios I thought of writing for this request, and I totally ignored the pile of homework I have to do to write this immediately, but I hope everyone enjoy this. It was awfully fun to write.

“Wait, what?” you say, a laugh lacing your tone. You lay on Eddie’s bed, your sock covered feet digging into his bedsheets. “You’re so lying, you haven’t done it yet? How did I not know that?” 

Eddie doesn’t turn to look at you, obviously embarrassed by his admission. Finally, Eddie shrugs, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I don’t know, I guess we never talk about our sex lives with each other.” 

“Well, yeah, because there’s clearly not much going on in that department in either of our lives, but I did assume you’ve had sex for the first time by now.” You say, leaning up on your arm to look at Eddie. You were honestly shocked by the admission; how had Eddie not had sex, especially since he’s two years ahead of you? 

It’s the wee hours after you and Eddie have been released from school, opting to, as usual, spend time with each other. You and Eddie had been best friends for as long as you could remember, always bound at the hip. When you were younger, your parents had been friendly, pushing you and Eddie together. When Eddie’s parents left Eddie with Wayne, his uncle, your parents were quick to absorb Eddie into your family. However, you always made the distinction that you didn’t see yourselves as essentially siblings, everyone certainly knew that you two were the best of friends. Any free time you had you spent with Eddie, every secret you had Eddie knew. Eddie was your other half, and you were his. 

Again, Eddie shrugs. “Consider that assumption wrong,” Eddie says, turning away from you.

You can’t help but snicker. Eddie was the coolest, most confident person you know. He never cared about what others thought of him, he owns the title ‘freak’ that Hawkins titled him with utmost pride. Sure, Eddie had never had a girlfriend but that doesn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t had sex. 

“Do you want to?” You say, curious. Didn’t every young male want to have sex? 

Eddie lets his eyes flick to you; he frowns. “Y/n, I don’t want to talk about it, especially with you.” 

You gasp in an exaggerated fashion, leaning on your arm to place your free hand over your heart. “Why not? We talk about everything with each other.” 

Eddie rolls onto his side, facing you, mimicking your position. He shakes his head. “This is different. Guy and girl best friends aren’t supposed to inquire about each other’s sex lives.” 

You scoff. “That’s bullshit, it’s not a big deal, Eddie. It’s just sex, it seems ridiculous to make that the one topic we don’t talk about with each other.” 

Again, Eddie shakes his head, looking off into the distance behind you. “I don’t know, it’s just weird.” 

You can understand how Eddie must feel - embarrassed. For some reason, having sex, or talking about it in society is shameful but at the same time not having done it at all, especially as teenagers, is shameful. You decide to joke and make it lighthearted to encourage him to lighten up. It truly wasn’t a big deal. 

“Eddie Munson, are you the waiting until marriage type?” You say, laughing as you shove him lightly. 

Eddie groans, burying his face into his tattooed covered bicep. “Y/n, stop. Trust me, not having had sex yet isn’t a choice; I would have done by now if the opportunity ever occurred.” 

“Is there someone you want to do it with?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. Eddie hadn’t recently expressed having a crush on anyone at school but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a girl he has his eye on. 

“No,” Eddie says. He peeks up at you from his arm. “Okay, fine, yes.” 

“Eddie, what the hell,” you exclaim. “Are we even best friends if you keep all these things from me?” 

“I’m telling you now,” Eddie says, sitting back up. “It’s embarrassing; I like this girl but have no experience in that department whatsoever. I wouldn’t even know what to do if I got her back home.” 

You are dying to know who Eddie likes, knowing that whoever she is, she’s lucky. You’d love nothing more to encourage Eddie to pursue this girl, but you know asking who she is might be a bridge to far for Eddie in this moment; you decide to stay focused on the topic at hand. 

You’re silent for a minute, thinking over tips to help Eddie in the moment where he would have a sexual encounter with a girl – then a wild idea comes to your mind. 

“I’ll help you,” you say, sitting up. “I’ll teach you what to do.” 

Eddie frowns. “What? How would you teach me to have sex?”

You laugh, knowing what you’re about to say will shock Eddie. “I’ll have sex with you,” you say nonchalantly and as if Eddie should have understood that right away. 

“Y/n,” Eddie says, jolting up from his spot on his bed. “Have you lost your mind?” 

You shrug, starting to peel off your jacket you’re wearing. “Like I said, sex is no big deal. I can walk you through what to do so you know what to do when it happens with the girl you like.” 

Eddie crosses his arms, sliding himself off the bed to pace at the foot of his bed. Your head goes from side to side as you watch your best friend walk from one side of his bedroom to the other side. “No, I can’t have sex with you, you’re my best friend.” 

You hum. “To me, that’s exactly why you should have sex with me. Think about it Eddie, we have been in each other’s lives for as long as we can remember, we’ve done everything together and know everything about each other. We’ve always been there for and supported each other in any way the other needs; teaching you how to have sex is just another way I can support you.” 

The idea to have sex with Eddie, with the end goal being that Eddie is more confident with a girl, sounded insane to begin with and even suggest, but as you explain yourself– it didn’t sound that insane at all. 

Eddie laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair then crossing his arms over his chest. “This is a joke, right?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, it’s not. Here, I’ll prove it: I’ll show you my tits.” You say, tucking your hands underneath your t-shirt and letting your fingers dig underneath the band of your bra. 

Eddie yelps, covering his eyes. “No, y/n, don’t. Okay, I believe you.” 

You laugh, dropping your hands into your lap. “I’m serious, Eddie. We can take it slow; I’ll teach you everything and answer any questions you have.” 

Eddie glances at you, maintaining eye-contact as he mulls over a response to your question. Eddie is twenty years old, far passed the average age everyone at Hawkins has sex for the first time. Always, but more recently, he’s been worried about how his performance might be for the lucky lady and how she might expect him to be more experienced considering his age. Although he finds your proposition jarring, he decides to put the awkwardness aside and take up your offer. “Okay,” is all Eddie can manage to say. 

You clasp your hands, happy that your oh so thoughtful offer was accepted. “I knew you’d come to your senses. Are you ready?”

“You want to do it right now?” Eddie says, his eyes growing wider. A hot wave washes over him, instantly becoming nervous. 

You give him a curious look. “I mean, there’s no better time than the present, plus we didn’t have any other plans for later.” 

You watch Eddie as he turns into a nervous wreck, his fingertips digging into his already crossed arms. You can imagine how being told you’re going to have sex on the spot can make someone feel, so you lean forward on the bed, outstretching your arm to grasp onto Eddie. “It’s okay, we’ll take care of each other,” you say, offering a small smile. 

In response to your touch, Eddie lets his arms drop to his sides. He moves from the end of the bed to the side you occupy, getting several feet closer to you. “Okay, right now it is then,” Eddie says, nervousness lacing his words. 

And you begin your lesson. 

“Okay, so. Say you just took this mysterious girl that you like out on a date and things went so well, which she’s on a date with you so of course it would, that you take her back to here.” You say, gesturing towards his bedroom that you both stand in. “Once she gives you that look, a look that says, ‘I want to have mind blowing sex with you have to set the mood immediately.”  

“Set the mood?” Eddie says. 

You roll your eyes. “Kiss her. You have to start kissing her, Eddie. Feel her up a little, don’t be coy, I know you’ve watched porn before.” Eddie’s cheeks flush with embarrassment but you continue on. 

You scoot over on the bed, allowing space for Eddie to sit. You pat the open space, tugging Eddie to sit next to you. “When you start with kissing, it makes it easier to transition to stripping clothes off and ultimately have sex, you know?” 

Eddie nods, crossing his arms across his chest. You’re quick to uncross them, scooting closer to Eddie, the side of your leg touching his. “Okay, go, kiss me.” 

Eddie’s mouth opens and the closes, his mind drawing a blank. “Okay, no, that is a bridge too far.” 

“Eddie, did you really think I’d just let you dry fuck me without any foreplay? Foreplay is the most important part.” You exclaim, shaking your head. 

Eddie looks away and then complies. He leans in, his hands placing themselves on your cheek, drawing you closer to him. Your lips meet, letting your mouths intertwine with each other, tongues beginning to dance. You thought Eddie would pull away quickly, but he doesn’t, letting your mouth stay connected to his. You can feel the eagerness in his mouth, every movement begging for more. You take your lesson to second base. 

Swiftly, you lay back on Eddie’s bed, Eddie following you down. With ease, he arranges himself over you as you part your legs to let him rest on top of you comfortably. You lean your head back, letting your lips break away from Eddie’s. “Very good, now is when you start taking her clothes off – and yours.”

Eddie squirms nervously on top of you and you’re sure you feel his arms lightly tremble. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Never been surer about anything, Munson.” 

Eddie sighs, leaning back onto his knees. His fingers tempt the end of his t-shirt, lifting it up and off of his torso. You watch, looking at his tattooed covered body and noticing the necklace that has a guitar pick as it’s pendant that hangs around his neck. You roll your eyes; He loves that thing.

Eddie goes to unbuckle his belt, but you gently kick his leg. “Don’t take off all your clothes and then mine; make it a back-and-forth thing. You take your shirt off, then take mine off. It’s a joint effort, let her do some of the work too.” 

Eddie considers this, coming to an understanding on your principle. He places himself over you, his fingers twitching as he plays with the hem of your shirt, beginning to lift it up and off your body too. 

Eddie has never seen you naked, not fully at least. Sure, there was that one time you got caught in the rain and your shirt was so soaked that you stripped it off once you got to his house, opting to borrow one of Eddie’s shirts. He had seen your bra then, the way your breasts settled in your bra nicely, the raindrops dripping down your chest. There was also that other time he realized how comfortable you were with him when you stripped down to your underwear and bra on a hot Indiana summer day, unable to bear the feeling of your clothes on your body or against your skin. Eddie had tried, in both of those instances, to give you your privacy and not stare at your assets – but he couldn’t help it. His eyes were drawn to your silky, supple skin, your curves, and the way you were so close to being naked, revealing your most intimate parts to him, but he didn’t let himself think about you in that way – at least not then. 

Eddie tosses your shirt on the side of his bed, letting it drop to the floor. He realizes he’s holding his breath as he’s looking at your breasts, one of your nipples poking out from behind the bra. You notice that he’s analyzing you, taking in your bare skin. You don’t mind, you find yourself comfortable under his gaze. 

“Keep going,” you say, though it comes out as a whisper. Your hands travel to his crotch, your fingers beginning to unzip the fly of his pants. Once his jeans are unzipped, you and Eddie work together to shrug his jeans off. You kick his jeans to the side of the bed, letting the piece of clothing fall next to your shirt on the floor. Eddie is quick to attend to your pants, his fingers enveloping the band of your jeans, pulling your bottoms off swiftly. Your hands find their way to his biceps, steadying yourself as Eddie works to pull your clothes off. 

Eddie feels himself getting hard against your thigh, his arousal growing stronger but he’s quick to try and hide that fact. You lean up, your front pressing into Eddie as you reach behind yourself, unclipping your bra. Eddie almost cums in his boxers as he watches your breasts bounce out of your undergarment. Eddie doesn’t know what to do next, his mind in a whirlwind. He closes his eyes, looking away from you as he shrugs his boxers off, his cock bouncing out of its restraint, showcasing his arousal. 

You swallow hard, eyeing his larger-then-you-imagined cock. Eddie has never known if his cock is a decent size, never having anything to compare it to or someone to tell him so, but by the look on your face, he knows he’s just fine. 

Eddie waits a beat, waiting for you to pull your panties down but you don’t move. You want him to take them off. Eddie catches on eventually, hooking his two fingers on either side of your hips, pulling your panties off with ease. Deep inside, Eddie’s sexual hunger grows, wishing he could do away with your rules, letting his primal nature guide the exploration of your body. But he restrains himself, waiting for your instructions.  

You part your legs, revealing your most sensitive part and now it’s Eddie’s turn to swallow hard, beginning to imagine what’s to come. 

“And now?” Eddie says, his fingertips brushing your jaw as he pushes a strand of your hair that clings to your face. You watch him intensely, feeling the tension grow between you and Eddie rapidly. A pit grows in your stomach, the stimulation of Eddie de-clothing you causing a rush of emotions. You’re hoping this doesn’t turn out to be a mistake. 

You clear your throat. “I have a feeling you know what to do now.” In response, Eddie offers you a small smile, re-positioning himself on top of you. 

Eddie lines himself up with you, cock in his hand, and he inserts the tip in, pushing himself into you slowly. You gasp, biting your lip as you let your head fall back; the feeling of Eddie pushing himself inside of you igniting a strong sense of pleasure throughout your body and limbs. 

Eddie thinks back to the porn he’s watched, though he knows that’s not an accurate representation of sex or how girl want to be treated. He mimics some of what he’s remembered seeing, rolling his hips so that he pulls himself in and out of you rhythmically. 

You let your legs wrap around Eddie’s waist; Eddie glances down, noticing how he’s drawn into you further when your legs attached to him – he wishes he could have your legs around him forever, holding him in place. He shakes his head at the thought. 

“What’s wrong?” You say, your hands finding their way to Eddie’s face. Eddie continues to move in and out of you and a soft moan escapes your lips. 

“Oh, uh – nothing.” Eddie says, adjusting his arm that rests next to you. His new position brings you and Eddie’s chests closer, your nipples brushing his bare skin. Eddie finds himself not being able to concentrate. 

 Your hands move from his face, moving them to let your fingertips brush Eddie’s back. His skin his warm, your body feeling cold and exposed. Your body heats up when you acknowledge how Eddie’s cock bulges inside of you, stretching the walls of your cunt to allow him inside of you. You had already had sex before, with two or three guys, but no guy was as big as Eddie – of course Eddie would have the biggest cock out of all the guys you’ve slept with. 

 While you’re thinking about how Eddie’s cock is painfully, yet pleasurably, big - Eddie is staring at your tits, wondering how they’d fit in his mouth. Just then, Eddie has no idea what comes over him. He suddenly has no regard for the concept of your ‘anatomy’ exercise, attempting to teach him how to have sex as his best friend – Eddie just wants to fuck the shit out of you. He wants to fuck his best friend. 

Eddie dips down to your chest, his large, ring-covered hand, clasping your breast. His mouth engulfs your breast, his lips puckering around your hard nipples. Eddie lets his tongue flatten against you, roughly licking your tits. You gasp again, your body arching in response to his bold act. Instantly, your fingers lace into his hair, pushing him further down against your chest. Eddie, emboldened by your response, moves to your other breast, copying what he had done just seconds before. 

Once he finishes with your second breast, Eddie keeps his mouth to your sternum, placing a trail of kisses from your chest up to your neck, leaving soft kisses underneath your ear. 

“Go faster,” You say, your thighs clenching around him. You knew it was wrong, the feeling you have growing inside of you as Eddie thrusts in and out of you. You wanted him bad, in ways you knew weren’t the ways you should think about your best friends. 

Eddie obeys, making his movements quicker, his thrusts rougher. Eddie loves the way he feels in this moment, the trembling of yours legs around him and the way your fingertips grip the roots of his hair. He never wanted this to end. 

“Am I doing it right?” Eddie says, mumbling into your neck. 

“You’re doing so good, that girl, whoever she is, is so lucky.” You say, a moan parting your sentence. “Fuck, this feels good.” Eddie smiles against your skin at your answer, his body moving smoothly against yours as if you’re two perfect fitting puzzle pieces.  

Eddie feels a burning sensation growing inside of him, his skin beginning to flush. He was about to finish. Obviously, Eddie had jerked off before, a lot actually, so he knew what feeling close felt like but this time feeling like he’s about to come while inside of you feels a lot different – it feels so much better. He doesn’t want to stop, enjoying the way he’s come to having sex with ease, as if he’s a natural at it, but he knows the inevitable and not something he can control entirely. 

 You, being just as wild as Eddie, pull his mouth back to yours, enveloping your lips on his. The action made everything much more intimate, so much deeper than just helping your friend out. Your lips nip at his, begging to be paid attention to. Eddie leans on one arm, letting his hand trail to your face, his large hand cupping half of your face. He leans into the kiss, glad to pay attention to your mouth. Eddie feels the intimacy grow between you, making his arousal even stronger, and he comes – instantly. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Eddie whispers, separating his mouth from yours. He looks down, noticing how specks of his semen are splatted across your inner thighs.  

You laugh softly, secretly wishing you could go for a second round. You mauver your body under Eddie’s top sheet, hiding yourself from Eddie. “And that’s how you have sex. I’ll give you an A-, you should pay more attention to foreplay when the real thing happens.” 

Eddie follows you, submersing himself under the sheets. “So, you’re saying I could use more lessons with you?” 

You frown, looking over at Eddie. “What? You want to do this again?” 

Eddie looks away, staring at his guitar that hangs on his mirror. His guitar is his prized position, a material object he finds so much confidence and security in. Eddie realizes it’s time to confess. “You know the girl you asked me about?” Eddie asks you. “Well, that girl is you.”

[gothamhappiness]

You are my heaven (Bruce Wayne x f!reader) Part 2

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. It'll be into 2 parts, except if you ask for more. <3

You can find part 1 of this here.

Warnings: no proof reading, language, mention of blood and killing, angst/comfort

He met you up at the Italian restaurant and loved to place a hand on the small of your back. He loved even more how you instinctively leaned into his touch and side. He really couldn't go back to his world. This place was heaven, and he was going to take such good care of his new people.

He listened to everything you said and actually answered. He never checked on his phone and didn't show any sign of being in the rush. You noticed how relaxed he seemed. Just before the dessert, he even reached for your hand and gently kissed it. He openly flirted with you and did his best to make you laugh. It was his favourite sound, with your moans of pleasure.

"You're in a good mood today," You finally commented. "You even took the time to talk to the kids this morning. And not to order them stuff about patrol, " You whispered

It hit Bruce. Of course, the "kids" were the vigilantes he saw working with Batman. He couldn't imagine how amazing it must be to work with other people. To be the mentor of those people, too. Their leader. Maybe even their father? They were all so young, they clearly needed someone to be there for them. And you cared for them, like a mother.

"I... Last night was a little bit complicated, and I realise how lucky I am, that’s all," Bruce replied, hoping you might know something

"Yes, Dick and Cass told me you got attacked by that mad scientist and that he threw at you some weird potion. Luckily, nothing happened. You were a little bit dizzy when you came back home, and you instantly went to bed. I helped you undress, and you fell asleep on me, " You hummed. "Anyway, I'm happy if things…” You trailed off

“If things?” Bruce tried to get you to finish your sentence

“Could... be better, " You admitted and looked away

Bruce was speechless for a few moments. Were you saying that the Bruce of this world neglected his people? His own people? You? He fucking didn't deserve any of this then. It was making things so easy, no guilt, no mercy.

"What do you mean, love?" He asked with a tilt of the head. You still refused to meet his eyes as you answered:

"Well... You haven't been around a lot lately. I can't even remember the last time we had lunch together. And you... you aren't the nicest with the children... Jason came to see me for comfort after another argument with you. Steph had a nap with me on the couch after you pushed her too much during training..." You explained. 

You didn't want to ruin the moment, but you weren't too sure when you would be able to tell him about all of this. For once, he seemed open to the discussion and wasn’t distracted with his work. However, his silence worried you a little bit. Actually, Bruce was angry. It was obvious that the Bruce of this universe didn't know his luck. He was going to be better - oh, so much better - than him. It was a promise. He kissed your hand again

"I'm so sorry. I'll do better. With everyone." He told you, and you finally looked at him, astonished. You had expected some justifications or denials, not this.

"I'm so... relieved. Maybe you could have a little talk with all the kids? And I know that your relationships with the members of the Justice League were getting tense, too. We haven't invited the Kents at home in so long." You babbled. 

Bruce could tell how much you cared about the family and that you decided to push your luck. You wanted your children to be happy, and you wished for Bruce to do better with his friends as well. You were so caring. Bruce was falling even deeper in love with you, and he didn’t think that was possible.

"I will. I promise. What about us?" He asked. 

Of course, he was going to do his best for all those people he didn't know yet, but what he wanted the most was to be a good husband to you. He had fantasied about your life together so badly, and now that it was happening, it needed to be perfect.

You didn't reply right away, trying to quickly think.

"What about us?" You finally said

"I haven't been the best to you either," Bruce guessed

"You saw the divorce papers I asked from our lawyer, didn't you?" You internally cursed yourself. You should have been better

Bruce silently panicked but didn't show anything. Oh the fucker was really ruining everything. He needed to make you forget about this divorce. You were finally his wife, he wasn't going to lose you or let you go. You were his, like he belonged body and soul to you.

"Love,..." He started, but you cut him off

"I was just thinking about it, but I... I don't want to leave the family. It was just in case things went downhill, " You explained, a little bit concerned of what the man was thinking

"It won't," He reassuringly smiled at you

"What?"

"It won't go downhill. I'll do anything you all need from me. I'm so lucky to have all of you in my life. I can't take this luck for granted. I'll do better, " He promised

You weren't too sure Bruce wasn't lying, but you wanted to believe him so badly.

Bruce found a folder with information on all the people in Bruce's life on the batcomputer, and he was grateful for that. It allowed him to know about his history with everyone and to act on consequences. He did talk to everyone and tried to make things better. He apologised and offered his help. He took some time for everyone. He showed he was eager to make an effort. He showed he wanted everyone to be happy around him. He showed he was there for his people.

He also found the mad scientist.

He interrogated him in Arkham Asylum. The man hadn't thought a new Batman would come. He just thought it would send the Dark Knight into another world, and that was it. Bruce asked if there was a way to get the real Bruce back. The mad scientist refused to answer at first before admitting that yes, there was. After all, portals could go both ways. Bruce went to the scientist's repair and destroyed everything before paying hitmen to kill the man. There was no way he would come back to Hell. No way. He would even kill the former Bruce himself if he had to.

The night he came back from the scientist’s repair, he was his most charming self to you, bringing you a beautiful necklace full of diamonds. As he helped you put it on, he complimented you and kissed your skin. He seduced you all night.

In the bath with you, his hands never left your skin. He gently washed your body and hair. He tenderly massaged cream onto you. He covered you in kisses until you would giggle under his nonstop attention. You truly hoped Bruce would keep acting like that because you were falling back in love with him. Hard. You were happy, and you clearly didn't want to get a divorce anymore.

A few days later, you and the children had lunch all together. Without Bruce.

You all decided that a conversation was a necessity because “what was going on with the man for fuck's sake?”. It was impossible he changed that much in such a short period of time. It was obvious something happened with the mad scientist. But weirdly enough, he was now dead and his work was destroyed...

"It's not Bruce," Tim finally said

"What do you mean?" You frowned

"It's not the Bruce we knew. From what I've been able to find, the scientist was studying portals through different parallel universe" Tim added

"You're saying that... He switched of Bruces from two different worlds?" You asked

"I think it's what happened, yes." Tim nodded, and you all stayed silent for a little while

"What do we do?" Duke asked

"This Bruce is nicer," Jason commented

"And more caring," Stephanie added

"But it is not our father." Damian frowned

"But he is acting like one..." Dick replied

"And like a husband." Cass added "His body language... He is so in love with you, Y/N… Like he would do anything for you."

"I... I know.” You paused “Maybe we all deserve some happiness"

“Are you saying we should pretend we don’t know anything? Barbara asked “It’s true that the Bruce we had was… challenging, but he all saved us. And kinda took care of us. We don’t know what this man will do in the long run” she added, and you were forced to agree with her

“Let me talk to him” You offered, and everyone agreed.

You weren’t too sure when it would be the right moment to speak with your new husband about the situation.

One evening, as you were snuggled up in his embrace, you felt like it was the right time. It was only the two of you, and the day has been quite good for Bruce, so he was relaxed. You kissed his collarbone to bring his attention back to you. He instantly put his book down to look at you.

"Yes, love?" He hummed

“Who are you?” You whispered with a bite of your bottom lip

“What? You know who am I” Bruce pretended to laugh it off, but he tensed a little bit

“You’re different. The kids are little detectives, and they think you are coming from a parallel universe. And… I can believe that” You explained

“Why?” 

“Because my husband liked me, but never worshipped me like a divinity of love” You softly smiled

“Well, he should have” Bruce groaned

“So, this is true, right? You came from another universe. And the man I married is there, instead of you?” You asked

Bruce cupped your face and leaned his forehead against yours. He had been the happiest man in the world the past few weeks. He finally had everything he ever wanted and needed. He would sell his soul in exchange for keeping this life. He was terrified you would cast him away.

“He didn’t deserve you. Any of you. I guess he’s there, yes, but I don’t really know. And I don’t care. I want to stay here. Haven’t I been good to you? Don’t you want to keep me? Haven’t I been better than he was?” He pleaded.

You heard the fear and despair in his voice.

“Your world isn’t as nice as here then?” You asked 

“My Alfred died when I turned 18, so I never had the time to adopt any of the children. I did my best as Batman and CEO of Wayne Enterprises, but I’m alone and lonely. Maybe I fucked up too, because my life is a just a mess. I don’t know, but this is Heaven and my world is Hell.”

“We’re not married either?” You wondered

“I’m too much of a loser to interest you. No matter how madly in love I am with you. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to worship you. I’m so happy to finally have you as my wife. I’ll always cherish you.” He admitted and promised

You stayed silent, not knowing what to do anymore. This place was clearly a fresh and happy start for the man in front of you. But what about the Bruce Wayne of this world? Wasn’t it a cruel punishment to leave him in such a lonely place? At the same time, you weren’t sure the man you married would even take care of you like you now were. And you would miss that very much. The children deserved a better father, too. Jason actually started to hang out with this new Bruce. And now Jason knew it wasn’t the same man who betrayed him. Their relationship would be even better. There were so many advantages...

“Keep me” The man begged you “I’ll do anything you want” He whispered again

“I… do want you to stay. But I feel awful knowing he is in your world. Alone.” You admitted

“I can make you forget about him” Bruce offered before kissing you, his thoughts on ways to make everyone forget about the “real” Bruce Wayne.

He was going to stay in Heaven, no matter the price, no matter the sacrifice, no matter what. You kissed him back before gently pushing him away.

“What if he comes back?” You asked “Would you hurt him?” You continued

Bruce didn’t answer, so you knew he would kill him without hesitation. He was a love, attention, and touch starved man. He knew what it was to be so broken that nothing could work out. 

“Barbara and Damian… They need some convincing to not find a way and save the Bruce we knew. I still feel bad but… if I loved him, I know I’ve never felt for him what I’m feeling for you” You whispered

Bruce’s eyes lit up. Being loved by you because he was Bruce Wayne was a thing, but being loved by you because of who he was was so much better. He didn’t know what to say, so he deeply kissed you over and over again.

“Love you, love you so much. You’ll be happy with me. Everyone will be happy with me.” He whispered in between kisses

“You promise?” You breathlessly asked 

“I promise, my love”

--

Part 3

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

Taglist for this series <3

@bat1212

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of my fav s3 scene.

choir practice scene • episode 2

this scene caught me so off guard, in the best way possible.

it only took simon's "you should do an activity you actually like" for wilhelm to drop everything and choose getting to spend more time with him!

simon's reaction at wille joining the choir was also mine: he can't believe his eyes and keeps looking back at him with the brightest smile on his face. and simon shifting wille's attention to where the song lyric is bc it's all new to him is adorable.

wilhelm's little proud smirk between the kisses while simon is so into it: he knew and imagined simon's surprised and happy reaction to all this, but i bet he was thriving to see it up until this very moment. so he might just be thinking that he made the best choice of his life.

having to practice and wait for everyone to leave was probably torture for simon, when all he really wanted to do since wille came in was this (simon's main love language is clearly acts of service btw *cough*). he felt important, cared for, loved - and couldn't wait to reciprocate it.

also, he's holding the key chain and happens to do the middle finger with the same hand. if you look at it as a way of saying 'mind your own business' to us is quite funny.

simon setting the rhythm and wilhelm fully going along with it. they don't even separate their lips before leaning in for another kiss - melting into it. they literally said 'no need to catch air bc we're already breathing each other in'.

simon not breaking physical contact even once. his hands are the third main character in this scene: they act like a glue for their bodies and carry so much passion. it is peak chemistry.

going on his tiptoes to push himself as close as possible and clinging to wille for dear life is the most simon thing he's ever done. love really brings out the cuddliest version of him.

smiling into the kisses and out of the kisses? insane of them if you ask me (i support it) (keep doing it lovers).

wille smiling and biting his lip bc he's the one overwhelmed by simon's presence now. physical touch is his love language and he's flooded with simon's - he must feel the luckiest boyfriend on earth.

one of their greatest proofs of love has always been to provide each other's comfort by being exactly what they lack receiving from other people or what they need most of the times - it's a constant learning of how to give and take.

they can't get enough of it: it's not even only about the kissing but more about their need to just keep pulling the other closer, leaning into each other, slowing their movements to not leg go yet but take time to touch and deeply feel instead - wille's face speaks for itself. this hug is so intimate ugh.

it's finally shown a glimpse of wille's hand on simon's back! it was always there obv but it's nice to see it more properly.

wilhelm obsessing over simon's neck and simon who tilts his head back to make it more accessible. wille could've done it all and trace the path with kisses - simon wished - but the boy knew what he was doing!

the way simon looks up at him and wille rubs their noses back and forth, keeping his eyes on him, gives me butterflies.

they're super affectionate and it's the easiest thing for them to do. the intimacy that comes with their whispering, their own personal space becoming one for both of them to share bc it's safer, warmer, a lot more comfortable. everything is such a manifesto of how much they genuinely adore each other - it's what makes this the it scene for me.

their bottom lips touching are sooo *internally screaming*.

wilhelm stands still to let simon's lips brush past his own and simon's cheek resting against wille's lips to enjoy the feeling a little longer. they look so peaceful.

it happens after wille's "i like listening to you sing": they went from "he likes it when i sing" / "i do too, don't i?" (locker room's fight in s2) to wilhelm actually telling him that listening to his voice is one of the main reasons he joined the choir. it has to be extremely special for simon to finally hear it.

idk if it's just my mind making this up but let's pretend simon is kissing wille's neck here!

wilhelm picking simon up by the waist to carry him elsewhere and keep the thing going more privately. that's my wille.

can you believe this is the face of someone who's saying that he needs to go? to not miss the bus? he just looks crazy in love to me.

wille's laugh is cute! and simon throwing his stuff on the floor bc the priority was to push his boyfriend against the lockers to make out will never not be funny.

also, @allthefakepeople once said the only thing that could've made this scene even more perfect is if simon paused when walking away and ran back to wille to steal a quick goodbye kiss - ahhh i'd have been so here for it!

[nmakii]

ONLY BOUGHT THIS DRESS SO YOU COULD TAKE IT OFF

— alastor + vox + adam’s fashion preferences on their significant other. gn!

— alastor

alastor finds anything that compliments your figure to be gorgeous. he can’t be upset when you’re confident in yourself.

though, if you’re really asking, he can’t be dishonest, can he? he adores formal wear. cocktail dresses, suits, waistcoats, gowns, the way they hold a certain elegance is something that just can’t be matched.

the way they hug your waist is simply too attractive, all he wants to do is eat you up. a beautiful sight like you would most definitely be a feast. not that he was thinking of eating you!

true, it’s not the most practical of clothes to be worn on the daily— but, it’s still a delectable treat once in a while.

“sweetheart, are you ready?” alastor asks, knocking on the door. “we must hurry, the opera waits for no one!” he laughs as he opens the door. and when he does, he is pleasantly surprised to see the outfit you’ve chosen for tonight.

the way formal wear compels you to carry yourself with poise and confidence is something that simply makes you all the more attractive to him.

“my, my! look what the cat dragged in!” alastor joked. “you look ravishing, dear. are you ready?” he asked. he walked over to you as he took hold of your hips, running his claws up and down the fabric and silently admiring your figure.

“mhm!” you nodded. “lovely.” he grins, holding his cane in one hand, and wrapping his arm tightly around your waist in the other.

as you walked, there was something off about alastor. he truly did hide it well, but there was definitely something bothering him.

his breath, quiet as ever, was heavy and reeking of desire. and, his body temperature was off the charts, as if he had been running a fever.

“alastor, are you alright?” you looked to your side. “of course, i am! simply excited for the show, that’s all!” alastor said, clearing his throat. “really? you’re kind of burning up, and you’re breathing heavily…” you noted.

alastor fell silent, choosing the best way to respond. “i’d suggest you not ask that, love.” he warned. “any further, and i may just eat you up!” he grinned as he left a kiss on your cheek, tightening his grip on you.

“oh? should i hold you to that promise?” you teased back at him. “hmph, don’t test your luck.” he shook his head in perplexity. “tell me, would you like to be cooked slow-roasted or braised?” alastor asked, to your shock.

alastor clearly enjoyed your reaction, laughing quite loudly. “wh— i’d like to not be cooked at all!” you frowned. “hmm… fine. only because you’re so sweet.” he shrugged in surrender.

— vox

vox loves everything elegant. whether it be a flowing dress, or a well-fitted suit, it gets him hungry. hungry for you, that is.

the way they accentuate every little curve and muscle is just so appealing to him, he just can’t help his hands to himself!

elegance simply compliments your body so sweetly, he wants to show off his little treat from heaven to everyone who’ll listen. this may or may not be the reason he brings you to every event.

“do i really have to go to this?” you frown as you lounge on your bed, waiting for vox to get ready. “‘course you do. you’re mine, and i have to show you off.” he grinned, straightening his bowtie as the finishing touch.

“come on. everyone’s awaiting our appearance.” he said, coercing you and pulling you up from bed with both arms. “urgh, fine…” you groaned, finally getting up.

vox rested his hands on your shoulder and hip respectively, taking in the sweet sights. “christ, you look sexy as hell…” vox sighed out, biting the side of his bottom lip.

“you know… i wouldn’t mind so much if we… missed tonight, and had some fun..?” he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. “pssh, after i already got ready? no thanks.” you teased “maybe tonight instead if you want me so bad.” you rolled your eyes at him.

vox frowned at your rejection. “fine, that might just bite you in the ass later.” he threatened, playfully slapping your behind, and pulling you along by the waist.

— adam

adam loves anything that shows your skin. short skirts, crop tops, tight denim jeans, no sleeves. anything that brings attention to your assets, it’s all super sexy to him.

the fact that you’re confident enough in yourself to wear such tight-fitting clothes is so downright hot, it might just encourage him to do some… sinful acts, to say the least.

still, adam is quite possessive when it comes to you. as much as he loves you in revealing outfits, these are for his eyes only. no one else gets to see this but him.

that still doesn’t stop him from having you perform a little show for him. for his eyes exclusively.

“holy shit… you look so fuckin’ hot, babe!” adam let out, sucking in his breath as he pulls you into his lap. “do i really have to wear this..? it’s kind of uncomfortable, adam…” you pouted.

“oh, don’t worry, baby.” he comforted you, petting your hair gently. “soon enough you’ll be taking it off anyway.” he said with a cocky grin, proud of such a dirty line.

“pssh, don’t say something like that. that’s just inappropriate.” you rolled your eyes at him. “heyy… but, don’t you like it? you can’t deny that, can you, angel?” he grinned.

and, as you glared incredulously at him, he started moving his hands. his grabby hands began moving anywhere that was left exposed— your arms, thighs, and waist. his fingers traced every vein, curve, and muscle, giving you a sneak peak of what he could do.

“come on, babe…” he said, coercing you further. “you know i could show you a good time.” he grinned.

adam could feel you growing weak under his touch, encouraging him further. he started to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your collarbones.

“just let me show you a good time…” he said, running a hand over your thighs.

“…fine.”

[bamfkeeper]

Autumn activities with Kurt~

I love fall, I'm a hugeee Halloween lover so I am feeling very excited that it's August. Anyway here's some fun things to do with Kurt for the fall. This might seem a little different from my usual writing, I wrote this over two days so I came back to it several times.

Warnings: Gender neutral reader, unedited lol

WC: 2.6k

"Come on, Kurt, I don't wanna miss out!" you exclaimed, tugging him along enthusiastically. Your smile widened as you both walked down the picturesque path towards the beloved local farm. You were absolutely thrilled because the farm had already set up the intricate corn maze, which was one of your favorite seasonal attractions. In addition to the maze, they were offering delightful hay rides that meandered through the scenic landscape of the farmland and offered fresh ciders brewed by the farmers.

The farm was also bustling with activity as they sold a variety of pumpkins, crisp apples, and other delicious fruits that were all locally grown and freshly harvested. The entire atmosphere was filled with the excitement of the fall season, and you couldn't wait to explore every bit of it.

"Ja, ja, I can teleport us there too, liebe!" Kurt said with a playful grin, stumbling along with your enthusiastic tug. He tried his best to keep up with your eagerness, his heart swelling with affection. Kurt loved seeing your smile, how it stretched over your entire face, lighting up your eyes as you got to experience something that genuinely made you happy. The joy you radiated was infectious, and he cherished every moment he got to share in your excitement. It was in these moments that he felt closest to you, connected by the pure happiness that seemed to envelop you both.

You arrived at the farm, and a wave of excitement washed over you. The farm's distinctive scent filled the air, perfectly capturing the essence of fall. It was a comforting and familiar smell that you had dearly missed since last year. As you took in the surroundings, vibrant autumn colors painted the landscape, leaves crunching beneath your feet. "Can you smell that, Kurt?" you asked, turning to your blue darling with a smile. You took a deep breath, savoring the crisp, earthy aroma and sighed blissfully, "It's fall, and everything feels just right again..." The moment was filled with a sense of nostalgia and anticipation for the seasonal activities ahead.

Kurt chuckled warmly, clearly happy to see you so thrilled, especially since you had seemed rather down lately. Anything he could do to help you feel happier, he'd do without hesitation. "Ja...they have a lot of things here, don't they?" he said, taking the time to glance around at the beautifully decorated farm. The owners must really go all out for their showings, he thought, noting the intricate details and festive touches that adorned the place. The vibrant colors, the cheerful atmosphere, and the meticulous care put into every corner of the farm made it a truly special experience.

Kurt felt a sense of admiration for the effort that went into creating such a delightful environment. It reminded him of the circus and how they did their very best to present the entire grounds for the public.

"This is beautiful, lots of...pumpkins and apples," Kurt commented, taking in the vibrant decorations and the festive atmosphere around him. You were practically raving beside him, barely able to stay in place, but you kept your excitement under control the best you could. The autumn air was crisp and cool, adding to the enchantment of the scene.

Your eyes immediately went to the snacks they had meticulously prepared for everyone. Caramel apples, popcorn, pies, pops, cider—everything you adored was laid out on beautifully decorated tables. The scent of cinnamon and baked goods filled the air, making it even harder to contain your joy. The laughter and chatter of people enjoying the season added to the warm, inviting ambiance of the gathering.

What surprised Kurt was that there were both humans and mutants freely roaming around the farm. This was not something he was accustomed to seeing; mutants who looked different, like him, usually attracted a lot of unwanted attention in public spaces. Here, however, they weren't given a second glance. He looked around in amazement, almost confused by the sight before him, and you noticed his bewilderment. Your elbow nudged him lightly as you explained, "The owners welcome everyone here. They tragically lost their son, who was a mutant, so…they actively display their farm as a safe haven for all of us."

"Ah...I see," he murmured thoughtfully. He then shifted his gaze back to the owners of the farm, an older couple who stood nearby. They looked like the quintessential image of typical farmers, with weathered faces that told tales of years spent working. Their eyes were kind, filled with a warmth that instantly put one at ease. Their gentle nature was evident in the way they carried themselves, moving with a calm and steady grace. Friendly smiles adorned their faces, radiating genuine hospitality and a sense of welcome that seemed to embrace everyone who came to their farm.

"Come on! Let's go on a hayride! We can get some hot apple cider too, and maybe even pet the horses!" you exclaimed excitedly, tugging him along towards the rustic wooden wagon. The crisp autumn air filled your lungs as you approached, and you saw the magnificent horses already harnessed and ready to pull the wagon for anyone eager for a ride. The horses were gorgeous. They had sleek, well-groomed coats, their manes flowed gently in the gentle breeze of the cloudy afternoon. The horse's ear flicked and it turned its head to look at you approaching.

You grinned widely, feeling a rush of joy, slowing your approach as to not spook the two horses. Reaching up, you gently pet the horse's strong, muscular neck, feeling the warmth of its body and the softness of its fur. The horse nickered softly, acknowledging your gentle touch. "I love horses...they're amazing animals." You commented softly.

"The circus had lots of horses. And zebras," Kurt commented, gently stroking the other horse's nose and then moving his hand up over its forehead. "They are very intelligent animals, more than most think." He paused for a moment, admiring the animal's calm demeanor.

You both climbed into the wagon, eager and excited to go on the hay ride around the expansive farm. The farm was a large patch of land, ensuring that the ride wouldn't be short and sweet but rather leisurely and an enjoyable experience. It reminded you of rides when you were a kid, so excited for the fall holidays to come without a worry in the world. As the wagon began to move, you sat closer to Kurt, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.

You sipped on some delicious, warm cider, savoring the taste as you looked around the picturesque farm. The brilliant apple trees stood tall, their branches heavy with ripe fruit, and the vibrant pumpkin patch sprawled out before you, each pumpkin seemingly more perfect than the last. The horses wheeled around to see the intricate hay maze, its paths promising adventure and fun. The feeling of these happy things— the crisp autumn air, the vibrant colors, the laughter of families enjoying their day—made you feel so warm inside, a deep contentment settling over you. You were thrilled that Kurt was with you this year to experience all these wonderful moments.

"How do you like it so far? It's nice, right?" you asked, your voice filled with excitement and warmth while you were snuggled into his side, feeling his comforting presence beside you. He smiled in return, leaning his head over yours. "Ja...it's really nice."

"Just wait! We're gonna get pumpkins, and try the snacks, and go through the corn maze!" you said excitedly, smiling ear to ear. "There will be so many different kinds of pumpkins to choose from. We can get other stuff too if you want, like some apple cider or maybe even some fresh berries. And we can head back home and make pies together. It'll be so much fun to bake and fill the house with the smell of fresh pies...and we'll carve our pumpkins too!"

Kurt listened to you ramble excitedly about all the things you wanted to do with him, smiling at you the entire time. His eyes sparkled with amusement and affection as you listed off your plans. "Ja, ja, liebe...we can do all of it. I have not seen you so happy in a long time," he commented, his voice warm and full of love, not negatively but in a pleased way.

He chuckled softly at the end of your little rant when you mentioned the pumpkins, the sound rich and comforting, and he tilted his head thoughtfully, "Carving pumpkins, it is a little too early for that, ja? They will rot before Halloween if we carve them now!" His laughter was infectious, making you feel even more eager to spend time together, planning and enjoying each moment to the fullest.

"Well," you huffed and sat up straighter, playfully smirking at him, "It gives us a reason to come back here and get another pumpkin next time. We can even make it a little tradition of ours."

He rolled his eyes and smiled at you, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. "Alright, alright, schatz...if that's what you want," he said, his voice filled with affection. He leaned in and kissed your temple softly, then pulled back to grin at you warmly. "Who knows, maybe we'll find the perfect pumpkin next time."

"Both times!" You replied gleefully, savoring the joyous moment as the hayride continued its leisurely pace. After the hayride, you eagerly set off to explore the pumpkin patch, your eyes scanning the vast array of pumpkins laid out before you.

You were particularly picky, determined to find the most perfect pumpkin for you and Kurt to carve together later. Each pumpkin was a potential masterpiece in your eyes, and you examined them meticulously. Kurt watched you with a mixture of amusement and admiration, seeing how you scrutinized each pumpkin with a sharp, discerning eye. You carefully considered the color, ensuring it was the ideal shade of orange. The shape had to be just right – round with a flat bottom for stability when carving. Size was another crucial factor; it needed to be large enough to create an impressive design but not so big that it would be cumbersome to handle.

You hummed a cheerful tune as you eagerly picked up a perfect pumpkin from the patch. With a proud smile, you showed it to Kurt, "This one!" You walked over to him, carefully handing him the round, robust pumpkin. Kurt took it from you and looked at it, returning your smile. He didn’t know much about the nuances of picking the perfect pumpkin, having always assumed you just grabbed one that caught your eye. To him, it seemed like a simple task, but you made it sound so intricate and important, as if there was an art to selecting the very best one from the patch.

"Ah, ja, this one is very plump," he remarked, examining the pumpkin thoroughly before setting it aside. He observed you intently as you scampered off to find another one, admiring your playful giddiness. "Are we going to carry these all the way back?" he called out to you, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. He continued to watch you hop over pumpkins, not receiving an answer since you were too focused on your search.

After the farmers graciously let you borrow a small wagon to pull your proud pumpkins, you both wandered through the expansive and winding corn maze. The maze was a labyrinth of tall, rustling stalks that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. As you meandered through the maze, you found yourselves playing around joyfully.

He would chase you with playful determination, laughter echoing through the corn. "I will catch you, liebe!" Kurt called as you laughed happily and ran from him. He caught you eventually, without cheating and teleporting. You tumbled down carefully and giggled as he blew raspberries on your neck.

After you played chase, you hide behind the towering corn stalks and waited for your chance to jump out unexpectedly, scaring him for fun and eliciting delighted squeals from the both of you. "Liebe! Mein Gott, I almost had a heart attack!" he laughed playfully with you. "You are getting better at sneaking, have you been training in the Danger Room without telling me?" He poked his tongue out at you.

The corn maze was fun, with its winding paths and unexpected turns providing plenty of entertainment. However, after navigating the maze for a while, you both started to feel hungry. Deciding it was time for a break, you headed over to the snack area. There, you found a delightful variety of treats lovingly made by the farmers and decided to try just about everything. There were slices of pumpkin pie and pecan pie, fresh fruits like apples and berries, and delicious caramel apples with homemade caramel.

You were so incredibly excited and completely caught up in the moment, indulging in these delightful comfort foods with such passion that even the sin of gluttony would be envious. It wasn't all your fault...the farmers were so kind and they just kept giving you food like loving grandparents trying to feed their kin. Kurt playfully teased you, gently poking your nose as he affectionately called you, "My sweet little cavity," followed by a chuckle and a tender kiss on your cheek. "I think we've had enough sweets for today... I feel like I'm going to go into a sugar coma," he laughed, somewhat embarrassed. Kurt had eaten far more sugar than he was accustomed to.

By the time you got back to the mansion, you felt the weight of the sugar hit you like a ton of bricks, making you incredibly sleepy, and Kurt felt exactly the same way. After you both managed to carry in your respective pumpkin and bag of goodies, which were now feeling much heavier than they did earlier, the two of you trudged up to the bedroom. Without even needing to discuss it, you silently agreed that you both needed a well-deserved nap to recover from the day's activities and all the sugary treats you had consumed. The soft bed looked so inviting, and the thought of sinking into its comfort was too tempting to resist.

As you lay down on the soft, inviting bed, you felt a gentle wave of relaxation wash over you, knowing that this upcoming nap would rejuvenate you for the rest of the evening. You couldn't help but watch Kurt as he casually stripped his top off, your eyes tracing the way his well-defined abdomen flexed with each movement. The sight made your loins stir with excitement and need. However, it wasn't enough to distract you from the overwhelming desire for sleep. The need to rest and recharge was the dominating feeling right now.

As you snuggled into him, feeling the warmth and safety he provided, you sighed deeply, a sense of contentment washing over you. A soft, serene smile crept up your face, spreading slowly as you reveled in the moment. He could feel your smile against his fur, the gentle curve of your lips pressing into him, and it made him chuckle softly. "What is it, schatz... you are grinning ear to ear..." he murmured lovingly into your hair, his voice a tender whisper that sent shivers down your spine, his accent sounded thicker whenever he was tired.

"Oh, nothing..." you trailed off, your voice barely more than a whisper as you leaned into him. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and softness of his fur against your skin, and took a deep breath in, inhaling deeply. His fur tended to keep scents for longer than normal, making it feel like you were enveloped in a comforting aroma that lingered. The scent reminding you of autumn days, warm drinks, and cozy evenings by the fire. All of the wonderful scents you had from your eventful day imbedded in his velvety blue skin.

"You just smell like pumpkins," you murmured softly.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Cover Images: House of X #3 (2019)

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with his Preggo Wife #9: At the Beach

Can be read with others in series or alone

Summary: You're not too confident at the beach with your body, but Joel's got the best remedy

Warnings: Super fluff!! Some sexy time at the end, unprotected sex, car sex, failed sex, fingering, 1 spank, heavier descriptions of pregnant body 

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You complain how hot it is, the grainy sand stuck on on your thighs, the hot sun blistering your sensitive skin, the onlookers you fear are gawking at your enormous size. The fact you have to wear a bikini now despite always having worn a full piece before the baby train docked. But it just wouldn't fit, and you had to buy a NEW (and even larger sized) two piece to accommodate your must larger figure.

 All of it makes you want to barf and hide in a closet. At the very least wrapped up in a towel—but of course, one towel doesn't even cover over your mid section anymore either!

Not that he's complaining. Joel pulls his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose to let all the light in and, with no shame, gets a glorious look at you as often as he can. You wearing a two piece with your accentuated body now so drastically changed because of him, just absolutely showcasing the evidence of your love making has him struggling to keep his cock down in his trousers. He wants to put his hands all over you and tell everyone yeah, this body? this belly? This woman? You see her? Mine. 

You didn't want to come to the beach. Okay, you did, like, yesterday, when you were scratching his arm off and begging to go sun bathe and wear your new sandals, but clearly, Joel couldn't recognize when you changed your mind last minute in the car ride without actually verbally telling him. He was so busy humming his little 70s tunes on the radio, glancing smiles at you and putting his warm hand on your fat thigh. Completely unaware, despite your reassuring smiles, that you wanted him to turn around right now and go home. Why couldn't the man just read your mind? Why do you have to explain everything to him word for word?

So here you are, a million degrees under the baking sun, sand in your sandals with the whole world of beautiful people apparently on this beach too. You stand there awkwardly, rubbing your arms hoping to shrink down to an ant and scurry away.

Trying to get to your knees is difficult at best, uncomfortable and pathetic, before settling on your bum with that massive tummy in the way of everything. You spread your legs and, fuck, you look like you might as well be pushing this baby out right now in this bloated birthing position. Could they kick you off the beach for looking like this???

Joel doesn’t pay any attention at all. He gets right to being a boy and digging a big hole in the sand like a 14 year old, despite his cracking knees and shifting groans from all the movement he’s got to do.

At least someone here is having a good time.

He carefully scoops the sand with his thick palm, making a smooth, rounded cavern. He even brought a tape measure, which he uses around your tummy first, strangely, and you don't even question it.

Once the hemisphere is dug to his satisfaction, smoothed over with his calloused fingers, he sits back and waves to you. 

You're picking little grains of sand off your moon-sized belly.

He coughs again, and you finally look up.

"Ta da!" He boasts proudly.

You throw your hands up defeatedly at his extremely unimpressive hole. "Okay?"

His lips draw tightly to a thin line, doubt crossing his face. “Wait, just—c’mere. Best part."

He grabs your hands and helps you to lie forward so that your belly has room to dip into the hole. And just like that, for the first time in months, you're lying on your front again.

It’s as if a massive ache in your back is suddenly relieved. "Oh my god! This feels amazing!" You cheer. The pressure your baby had been putting on your lower spine suddenly disappears, and all that weight is so perfectly supported by the carefully measured cradle he dug in the sand. It's been so long since you were in this position, you had dreams of the day you could again.

"Joel, you're—“

"Fuckin' amazin', I know darlin'."

He plants a special cooling pillow in front of you so you can rest your chin above the sand, no strain on your neck.

You sigh loudly, and extremely long, not even aware that it sounds like a pornographic moan.

"Behave, you," he tsks with a raised brow, his whispers tickling your ear.

"Mmmm.”

You wave him off, suddenly enjoying the warm heat of the sun on your bare back.

He lathers your exposed skin with gentle sun screen, massaging your shoulders, neck, sides. He takes special care to realllly rub your butt, 'so you don't burn.' Puts an umbrella over you too for good measure. With the reassuring feeling of Joels hands working out your muscles all over you, the crashing sound of waves in the distance and chirping seagulls, and feeling like you aren’t heavily pregnant for the first time in months, you quickly succumb to a nap.

-

Later when he's got food, double fisting some hot dogs, he sits you up and rubs the sand off your belly with a clean cloth. Joel scarfs the first one down, ketchup drooping down his wrist.

But you’re too distracted, and when you tell him its okay, he eats yours without a second thought. You laugh a little. Poor thing probably got baked under the sun too busy taking care of you.

He chews loudly, jaw working close with the amount of meat and mustard and bread bulging out. You lick your thumb and wipe away the droop of condiment spilling from his lips.

He playfully chases your hand with a bite, growling.

you shake your head. “You fucking weirdo.”

“Mmm. My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

His eyes rake over your body—skin radiant in the sun, so smooth and shiny from the oily sunscreen he had smoothed over you. Like something out of a dream. His dreams, to be exact. Not so appropriate dreams he may have already had after only the first week of dating you, and thinking about the day you might be exactly as you are—pregnant with a his ring on your finger.

Delirious with the sight of you, he leans in and starts kissing you, then groping and suckling alll down to your bloated belly.

"Joel, stop, people are gonna see!"

"Let them see, you're so fucking sexy right now.”

"STOP.” You grasp him a bit more firmly to pull his hungry mouth away from going any further down south. “We're not having sex right now. That's final. Now keep your bad boy parts in your pants.”

He pouts and grumbles, drawing away like a scolded child.

You watch as a group of kids play in the water and laugh, or two young girls collect more sea shells than their little hands can carry. Your hand absent-minded rubs over your belly, wondering what your baby is thinking right this moment. If she had thoughts. If she was listening and seeing through you, and feeling what you might be feeling right now.

Joel watches you. He can see that sense of distant longing in your eyes. 

Remembers when you first started dating, mid 20s and so young, and the first thing you said was you weren't sure about kids. He kind of knew he wanted at least one, but the more he got to know you, the more he was willing to give that idea up if it meant he got to keep you for the rest of his life. It took five years after you got married before he found you trembling but bravely presenting him a positive test, and he had to fight himself to keep all his emotions at bay in case you didn’t want this. You were so quiet, so unreadable. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it or not. 

Until you both went to your first ultrasound, and from that minute you saw the little blob on the screen, and the nurse said “meet mom and dad!” Your lives changed. The whole car ride home you were babbling excitedly about baby names, the color of the nursery, what your child might look like (you hoped she or he would look like Joel). 

You’re quiet right now like you were that day. He follows your eyes to the scene of all the kids playing together, their parents watching over and encouraging the sandcastle building or warning not to go too far out into the water: a happy family.

"I want more,” you say quietly, not really even addressing Joel as your eyes are stuck forward.

He just chuckles and shakes his head. “Baby, we still are working on getting one. Gotta wait before we can have another."

"I want her to have a sibling,” you mumble, holding your belly with both hands delicately.

He bends down and kisses your hand resting atop your swell. “I’ll give you as many as you want.... so long as it doesn't exceed two.”

Your head snaps back. “Three.”

"If there's 2, then that's 4 of us, which is the perfect number to sit at any restaurant. 4 is right. Plus a normal car sits 4 people comfortably. Do you really want a third baby being subjected to a middle seat?"

"Mini van?"

"We ain't getting a mini van. Over my dead body.”

"Well we can't use the truck!”

"Ya can put a baby seat in the truck."

You giggle at the imagery. "You've thought about this a lot haven't you, Mr. Miller?”

He's going off about why 4 also is the perfect number in most rollercoaster carts, but you can't help but just look at him, smiling warmly to yourself that you get to call this man yours.

“—I love you."

He stops mid sentence. A little jumped, but never surprised by your words. He caresses your cheek lovingly, his soft lips finding yours. "I love you too," he mumbles just hushed enough for only you to hear.

Your foreheads touch, as if you wanted your minds to meld into one. You kiss him again, then again a little more firmly. And more. Again, more—more, again. Until you're making out with him a little too passionately, your hand drifting south to his caress his Daddy belly and his Daddy parts—

He hand grabs your wrist to stop you. “Honey,” he warns. There’s a glint in his eye that is just barely keeping his mature brain functioning. With your tits all swollen and hefty with milk, spilling out of that poor excuse of a bra and begging for attention, along with your ass spilling out of that g-string-looking triangle hiding your more than likely wet flower... He’s unsure if he can't keep his erection at bay if you keep acting like this while looking like this.

"I want you," you breathe, your lips crashing on his.

"I want you too,” he hums between your insatiable teeth biting along his tongue. “But..."

"But?"

"You said no sex at the beach."

"I know. I'm waiting for you to get off your lazy ass and take me in the truck."

-

Joel had never packed shit up quicker in his life. He’s bunched up bottles and towels and sunglasses and whatever junk he had brought all up in a towel with one arm and ran barefoot to the parking lot, his other hand dragging you as you wiggled excitedly behind him. He throws it all in the truckbed and unlatches the door for you, helping you up with a quick smack to your sandy asscheek. He gets in and rolls up the windows. Not bothering to check if anyone is around. 

You pull him close and start shoving his shorts down.

Its hot and rushed and promising—until you quickly realize your baby does not want any truck-fucking business happening because there's no possible configuration the two of you can get in to have sex with the sheer size of your tummy in the way.

He can sense the tears of frustration welling in your eyes, immediately caressing you as he buckles you in and revs the truck to life. 

“It’s okay, its okay, it's okay, we'll have car sex again after she's born, how's that? Just a beautiful girl you are. Too sexy like this. Need to do it on a comfortable bed, that’s all. Can't have ya all to myself whenever I want, huh?"

You nod, desperate to suck up all your tears. Quite frankly you know that you ugly cry, and Joel knows you ugly cry, and you don’t want to ugly cry. You remember that your pussy is wet and waiting to get home so he can spoil you properly.

He continues to adoring rub over your belly, a constant affection of his touch reminding you to stay level. With one hand gripping the wheel, eyes trained forward, he glides down over your naval and urges you to part your legs.

You slip back a bit, giving him the widened access he needs to dip his middle under your bikini bottoms and between your slick folds. You moan loudly, hips arching forward to get more of his finger rubbing along your swollen clit.

“Joooeeeeeel,” you whimper impatiently. He can’t dip any more than an inch of his finger in you due to the stretch of his arm over you belly. Instead, he swipes along your slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it on your nub.

"Ahhh, oh sweetheart, you’re just drippin' me." He retracts his hand and plunges his finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue over and over and sucking your juices clean off with a pop.

You eye his bulge stabbing through his trousers. "I wish I could suck you off right now." You whine, squeezing your achy breasts and hoping he can steal a glance at you.

"Mmm, those were good times, huh?"

You groan, frustrated. Turns out the baby was cock blocking you in numerous ways from doing things you enjoyed in your youth. Your “youth” feeling like it just a few months ago when driving BJs were your favorite way of nearly getting pulled over.

Eventually you do get home, and you throw the seatbelt over. This baby was NOT stealing truck-fucking from you. Not. Today. 

Joel can’t stop your rush. You’re clambering over the dash, knee pressing into Joel’s bulge painfully and elbowing his chest trying to get into a position.

"Okay wait—just—OW! Hon—s-urgghh— HOLD ON.”

You maneuver him to sit at the center of the back seat, with your back facing him and ass hovering over his cock. He’s protectively holding your waist in your squatting position. You sit back slowly, moaning as he penetrates your slit. With both hands on either side of the front seats shoulders in front of you, you begin gently rocking and bouncing.

He holds your belly, guiding you up and down, back and forth on his dick

"Fuck. Fuck, I love you, Joel. I cant wait—nnmmm—to have your baby!"

He grumbles in agreement, watching the space where his length disppears into your sopping cunt and comes back wet and shiny from your arousal.

It feels fantastic after waiting so long, being so pent up and needy for each other since—like 20 minutes ago.

And There's about 18 more seconds of this before you're slowing down. Joel can feel it too: the awkward clench, slipping out of you every few seconds, creaking in the truck's seat, the wet scratchiness of the sand still wedged there, your hand on your back from the pain, unable to bounce on him with the weight of you, the overall struggle that’s paving way for very shitty, very uncomfortable, very unsatisfying sex. You stop altogether and sit in his lap with his cock impaling you, almost casually.

"I'm tired,” you sigh in defeat, out of breath.

Joel just nods behind you. He kisses your shoulder blade and helps you off him.

Baby: 1.

You: 0

“Bed is still open, if ya want it…” you mumble into his whiskered cheek before planting a soft kiss.

His excitement jolts him into a frenzied leap out of the truck. “Bathroom, then bed, and I expect to see your legs spread and naked.”

You giggle and the two of you part in different directions in the house.

Joel quickly uses the bathroom before tripping over his clothes while stripping, eager to finally make you cry about how good he’s going to pleasure you.

Only to find you nestled on the couch curled up with your hand perched under your cheek, drooling into the pillow. Even despite your sunkissed skin, the dryness of your lips from the salty ocean air, the sand you complained between your folds and wedged up your ass by your bikini didn't matter. As the afternoon warm sun bleeds from the drapes lulled you to a gentle rest, secure and safe in your own home. 

Joel kneeled beside you, cupping your cheek soothingly.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

You stir slightly, smiling with a hazy half conscious state. "I know," you respond cheekily, before nuzzling into his hand again and falling back asleep.

Joel stays there for hours, one hand resting over your belly, just watching the woman he's fallen so hard for, wondering what in the world he's done to deserve such a blessing.

- - - -

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[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Everything's all fun and games until everyone assumes you're just being a Horny BardTM when you have, in fact, actually been kidnapped by a dragon.

🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

“Wow,” Ace whistled, long and low, and you fought a twitch in your jaw.

He and Deuce were certainly beat to shit, but not quite ‘hurled dozens of feet through the air and a roof’ level of shit, so your spell must have cushioned at least a little of the fall. The pair of idiots stood at the entrance of the cavernous room, shifting back and forth on their heels and faces twisted up in varying degrees of horror. 

“I mean, I know there’s a stereotype about bards and whatever,” he continued, aghast. “But, really? Really?”

You grit your teeth. The pointed chin resting atop your head shifted and you felt claws flex at your hips.

‘My friends will probably be coming back here soon to find me,’ you’d entreated, not five-minutes prior.

‘Your friends?’ the dragon had repeated, slow, like the concept of comradery was something completely alien. And then his eyes had narrowed. ‘Ah. They intend to steal you away,’ he’d said with all the indignation of someone who’d clearly forgotten he had literally just proclaimed his intent to the do the exact same thing.

Sparks had shot out from between his teeth, and the already too-sharp black nails tipping his fingers had curled into talons—ashy darkness trailing up his arms like a seeping stain.

‘What? No,’ you’d lied. ‘They would never. I’m sure they’re just curious. Whether I’m still alive or not, I mean.’

‘Oh,’ he’d blinked, that venomous ire seeping from his gaze as if it’d never been there to begin with. ‘I suppose that does make sense.’

So when your loveable idiots had eventually stormed in—swords drawn, banners flying—you schooled your countenance into something as placid as possible. Something that perhaps conveyed ‘I would love for you guys to help me out here, but also I would really like not to see the three of us become tonight’s entrée. So like. Maybe sit this one out.’ But whatever expression you ended up making clearly wasn’t doing what you were aiming for if Ace’s first instinct was to accuse you of Horny Bard Shenanigans.

Or maybe your face wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was just the nearly seven-foot-tall, naked, dragon man draped across your shoulders. Who’s to say.

“This has nothing to do with that,” you snapped, ears burning.

“Do with what?” The newly dubbed Tsunotarou rumbled. He was pressed close enough that you could feel the worlds roll through his chest—annnnd you were going to stop yourself right there and focus very, very, intently on getting through this conversation alive.

“Human things,” you spluttered frantically.

“Ah,” he hummed, his chin shifting from the crown of your head to dip down and instead rest atop the curve of your shoulder. “You’ll have to explain it to me later, then. I do find our cultural differences very intriguing. You humans are so… new age.”

“Explain it to you later…?” Deuce frowned, and you could see the words zipping around behind his eyes to slowly put themselves together into a cohesive thought. He shot ramrod straight and whipped his arm out accusatorily. “You’re staying?!”

“Of course,” you said, with all the enthusiasm of someone with a knife held to their throat. You locked eyes as obviously as you could—hoping he’d get the message. “It’s in everyone’s best interest.”

You could see the pinched look on his face, the heavy weight of discontentment tugging at his brow. There was a war being waged in that man’s head—a battle between what lingering, frail, shreds of rationality and comprehension remained, and the desire to be a good friend and save our bard! Because mama said I should be good to my friends! You stared him down hard, silently begging, pleading, to just let it go. The fingers gripping his axe tightened and you could hear the leather of his gauntlets creak with strain. Tsunotarou hummed, something like amusement coloring the throaty rumble, and it tingled all the way from the tips of your toes to the cheek he was tucked up against. The claws at your side flexed—not deep enough to hurt, but firm enough to know that funny as the notion of a teeny, human, barbarian hurling themselves at a dragon was, it wasn’t going to be a good enough joke to earn said dragon’s mercy.

“Well, duh, you’re staying!” Ace interrupted slickly, sliding in front of Deuce and his burbling rage like a fox finally skulking from its hole. “Look at what a great new friendyou’ve made! You can’t just leave him here all on his lonesome, now can you?”

The low rumble skirting along your back melted into something that was very nearly a purr. Your eyes flickered to your captor’s face—or as much of his face as you could manage to make out, considering he had plastered himself to your side like an overgrown cat. His lips were curled back into that smug, contented, smirk—the tips of his sharp canines just barely peeked out over his bottom lip.

“We’ll come back and check on you, of course,” Ace continued. He waved his hand at the dragon, like they were old chums shooting the shit over a pint of ale in a tavern. “You know how it is. Gotta make sure they’re settling in all right—make sure you’re keeping with your honorable intentions and whatnot. How’s two weeks from now sound?”

“Two weeks?!” you wailed.

Tsunotarou grumbled, clearly also displeased. “I agree. That seems far too soon.”

“Two months?” the ginger countered easily.

“Ace!”

The dragon seemed to consider this new proposal quite thoroughly. You could feel his long lashes flick down against your cheek as his eyes went hooded, heavy—slipping back into his thoughts to ponder upon this newly proffered timeline. After a long, long, moment, he lifted himself from your neck and plonked his chin back down atop the crown of your head.

“That is acceptable.”

Deuce looked entirely unimpressed. You had a feeling you looked like you were about to shit yourself. Ace, naturally, seemed more or less content.

“Well then!” the traitor chirped. “We’ll see you when we see you then, yeah?”

You grit you teeth, but your gaze flicked to your other, kinder, friend and you bit back the slew of heinous insults brewing on your tongue. Deuce still looked more than ready to jump into the fray, consequences be damned. And you were not going to let your terrible, horrible, no-good, rotten luck end all his valiant attempts at redemption when he inevitably attempted to go toe-to-toe with the business end of a dragon.

“…Are you sure you’re gonna be alright here?” Deuce asked, face twisted up in distaste.  

There was a pissy rumble from over your shoulder.

“Do you doubt my abilities as a host?”

“Of course he doesn’t!” Ace cut in, ever the bootlicker. “And besides,” he drawled, elbowing his companion in the ribs. “You know how bards are. I’m sure this is right up their alley.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Deuce went pale—then green. Ace turned on you with a smile that was all vinegar. “Right?”

‘I should not let them be murdered horribly,’ you repeated to yourself past the crimson rage leaking into your vision. ‘I should not let them be horribly murdered—’

“Righteo!” you forced yourself to spit. And if you somehow managed to survive these next two months, you were going to string that red haired traitor up by his pinkies and feed him to the crows that lived outside your window.

Your friends slipped away slowly, hesitantly—Deuce looking like he’d been struck down by a horrid case of food poisoning or something else equally as stomach churning. Once they were gone, Tsunotarou lifted his chin from your head so that he could crane his neck over your shoulder and look at you more directly. Not that he had to try very hard, seeing as he was gigantic, whether on two legs or four.

“What was the small, ugly, one referring to?” he asked curiously. “About your profession?”

Your life flashed before your eyes.

“Bards are known for their hearty curiosity and drive to experience new situations,” you repeated, verbatim, from the little adventurer’s handbook you’d been gifted by Lord Crewel all those years ago.

“Oh,” he hummed, nodding into your hair. “Of course.”

.

.

The first major hurdle cropped up barely two hours later.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

The dragon blinked slowly, as if mentally tallying through a list of human bodily functions to try and figure out just what on earth you were talking about.

“Ah,” he said after a moment. And then he began to melt away—limbs stretching and cracking, and porcelain complexion bubbling up with inky miasma so thick and dark it may as well have been tar. It was both horrifying and awe-inspiring to watch, like some great creature of old emerging from an arcane cocoon. And not two minutes later, a familiar, ebony, dragon was standing before you in all its glory.

He lowered his snout and nosed around your shoulders for a moment, snuffling and searching. And then he pinched your collar between his teeth and hauled you into the air.

You tried not to scream. Really, you did. But humans just weren’t meant for flying, let alone while suspended between the jaws of a beast that could swallow them whole. By the time you landed, you were so wobbly and windswept that you nearly collapsed to the ground then and there, bladder be damned. Tsunotarou warbled something deep in his chest, and you glanced up past the thin veil of icy sweat dripping into your eyes.

He'd placed you into a blown-out enclave that had probably once been a very nice hallway. And in the corner was the remains of what indeed looked like a bathroom. You straightened yourself as much as you could and began hobbling woozily towards what you hoped was a proper, enchanted, toilet and not just some block of stone with a bowl at the bottom.

There was an echoing thud from behind you and you jumped, startled, and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Tsunotarou had sat his massive head at the entrance. And he continued to sit there. Watching.  

“Uhm,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

He stared, unmoving. You sighed and squashed your fingers into your temples.

“…We’re going to have to establish some boundaries,” you said. The dragon’s gigantic, neon, eyes closed and opened—like a question. “Boundaries,” you repeated. “Things that we do on our own.”

The beast’s lips flattened into a grumpy line and he grumbled something unintelligible at you, spitting loose sparks from behind his overly long canines.

However, mouthful of razor-sharp teeth in your face or otherwise, everyone had to draw the line between pride and self-preservation somewhere. And having to piss in front of an audience was apparently yours.

You waved your hands in a shoo shoo motion and those amethyst crests flattened irritably atop his skull. He settled in further, the structure of the terrace groaning beneath the weight of his scaly chin. You worried your lower lip between your teeth. It wasn’t exactly like there was a door or anything that you could just, like, shut in his face. And beating him off with a broom or something like a stray cat was out of the question—just out of sheer impossibility. You were going to have to get creative here…

An idea popped into your head and you leaned forward with a charismatic little smile that you’d unleashed on so many traders, and shopkeepers, and unsuspecting bakers that it ought to be considered a weapon in its own right. You’d practiced it in the mirror for weeks.

“I’ll tell you a story,” you offered, and his slitted pupils rounded a bit—intrigued. “That’s what I was before all this, you know. A storyteller.” You had his full interest now, those purple crests rippling behind his horns. “But you have to close your eyes,” you said. “It makes it easier to imagine that way.”

He stared you down curiously for a heartbeat or three, and then Tsunotarou’s gigantic, luminous, eyes slipped shut.  

You sighed and plopped yourself down on the decrepit, stone, toilet.

“Once upon a time,” you began, sweeping your cloak out in front of you to give yourself at least a little bit more dignity. One of those crests twitched at the sound of swirling fabric, but his eyes remained dutifully closed. “There was a bard who made some very terrible life decisions—"

.

.

The next bump in the road came the following afternoon.

“People tend to wear clothes,” you said.

He canted his head at you. “I am not a person.”

Oh for fucks sake.

Tsunotarou was stretched out along one of the many, grand, banisters lining what you assumed had once been a ballroom—lounging in the dim light like a lizard sunning itself on a rock. Apparently, before your arrival, he’d very rarely, if ever, shed his wings and scales for this more compact form. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying spreading himself out across all the new surfaces that the change in size allowed him. Part of you would have thought it was a bit endearing—seeing this eldritch monster merrily falling into the ‘if I fits, I sits’ way of life. The other part was sick of nearly collapsing in cardiac arrest every time you caught sight of his very naked self reclining across some new piece of furniture.

“Yes,” you intoned, deadpan. “But you look like one.”

He blinked slowly, as if putting together a thought. “I see. The dissonance of observing a vestige of humanity which does not actually fit the mold of a human must be disconcerting to you.” He rested a knuckle lightly against his chin as he pondered. “In the same way I may feel uncomfortable if you took on the form a dragon with no teeth or tail.”

“Sure. Whatever,” you bemoaned. “Just. Pants? Please?”

He observed you quietly for a moment, amusement dancing across his features. And then he grinned, putting the pointed tips of those impressive canines of his on full display.

“Well I suppose if you’re going to ask so sweetly.”

He sat up with a stretch that was outright spitting in the face of your plea for modesty, and then spread his hands. His black-tipped fingers twisted gracefully, artfully, and the cavernous room filled with the scent of packed earth and ozone. Soft puffs of emerald light glided along his arms, and in their wake sprouted tendrils of sheer, silken, sleeves. Those dancing lights traveled merrily from his shoulders to his hips, and then back again—spinning magic into fabric like little, ghostly, seamstresses as they went.

The soft glow faded and the silk settled around him with all the delicacy of a cloud. It was stunning, certainly. A true work of beauty. With billowing sleeves that cinched neatly at his wrists, and swept into an open window across his front. The fabric wrapped itself snuggly at his waist and draped low enough to offer at least what should have been the bare minimum of modesty. It pooled across his shoulders, splaying out into a split cape that looked eerily similar to the wings he dawned in his other, scalier, form.

But this lovely new ensemble—as gloriously shiny and magical as it was—was still nearly fucking transparent. And yeah, the shadows curling along the spiraling silk did a decent enough job at obscuring what ought to be obscured. But at the same time, somehow this impression of cloth, of loose fabric that dipped below his collar bones and hung uneven and open across his pale chest, was worse than the outright fucking nudity. Scandalous. Like walking in on a seduction scene in a trashy novel.

“…maybe you should just do whatever makes you comfortable,” you managed to cough out, gaze slipping downwards of its own accord. And then more down. You gulped. “D-Don’t feel the need to change yourself on my account.”

He stared grumpily at his swanky new outfit. And then back at you. His lips pursed into a pout.

“You don’t find it pleasing.”

Your eyes rolled up to stare miserably, tormentedly, at the ceiling, and you began reciting every religious verse you could think of. Thou shall not steal or covet. In the name of the Mother, the Crone, and the Hallowed Throne. Head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Aye, Macarena—

“It looks perfectly nice. I just think that you have as much of a right to be happy in your skin as I do,” you reiterated. “I—I mean, you’re already keeping yourself human more often than not just so we can talk.” Which was true enough, but also mostly an attempt to make it seem like your concern was genuinely aimed at him and not your steadily rising blood pressure.

“…you’re incredibly strange,” he grumbled after a moment, his brow tugging low on his forehead. More pouting. “And impossibly frustrating to read.”

The heat radiating off your face like a fucking active volcano felt ‘possible’ enough to you, but what did you know.

“That’s why you’re keeping me around,” you reminded him.

Ten minutes later, he was sprawled out with his head in your lap, the ridges of his horns bumping your hips and inky black hair spilling over your thighs. Naked as a jaybird.

“Tell me another story,” he hummed, eyes slipping closed.

“Sure,” you agreed, gaze once again firmly locked on the hundreds of cracks in the ceiling. You’d probably have them all memorized by this evening, or at the very least have managed to count them all up a dozen times over.

You were halfway through some yarn about armies made of playing cards and worlds beyond looking glasses when Tsunotarou sighed, heavy and bone deep. Content. And then he turned to bury his cheek into the rough fabric of your traveler’s pants with a rumbling drawl that was not unlike a purr. His nose pressed itself into the inseam of your thigh and your brain fuzzed out like you’d been shot pointblank with a Wand of Lightning Bolts.

“Child of Man?” he huffed after a moment—one, neon, eye flicking open to glare up at you grumpily. “What happened then? To the cat that smiled too wide and the man with the mad hats?”

“R-Right,” you squawked. “Uhm—so as I was saying—”

You stared back at all those cracks and started counting again from zero.

[yuyusshinelight]

Mine feat racer!j.yh

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♪ First of all clarify that this does NOT represent Yunho in any way, it is pure fiction.

♪ English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistake I could have.

♪ NSFW! I should say that minors can't read this but I can't stop them from reading this so read at your own risk.

Note: I wanted to write something soft about Yunho, that's all🫣. If I missed something please, tell me. I hope you like it and enjoy your read! Love you my stars!

Warnings: female reader, established couple, reader gets jealous, possessiveness, use of bad words (slut, whore, bitch...), use of pet names (princess), mention of sexual relations under the influence of alcohol (Both were conscious and of sound mind), vaginal sex, unprotected sex (be responsable), breeding kink???, mention of pregnancy.

You were a sea of tears in your boyfriend's arms, apologizing to Yunho for the spectacle you made in that club you were hanging out with your friends and also for how you used him as a sex toy when you arrived at your shared apartment last night. Your body was curled against his torso, making you seem even tiniest, sitting on his thigh while crying in his neck and asking for his forgiveness.

And what was his reaction? Laugh and hug you.

"Don't you cry, princess. I'm really fine with what we did last night".

"B-But I… while y-you… and—" With the most adorable kindness that this man could display, Yunho placed his hand in your chin to move your head and make you face him; your teary red eyes melting his already softened heart "If I hadn't wanted it to happen, I had stopped you" his tone was soft as always, his touch felt warmth against your skin.

Just with the look in his eyes, Yunho managed to calm you down, and with that stolen kiss you could feel that everything was really fine. His lips made love slowly and gently to yours while his hands hold your body close to his, one in your lower back and the other on your neck to deepen the kiss; his skilled tongue invited yours to a passionate slow dance which you were clearly not going to refuse.

But, although Yunho had said that it was fine, the remorse of thinking you crossed a line you shouldn't was weighing on your head.

Yesterday Yunho had a car race that, to no one's surprise, he won. The guy was the best racer you must say; and it wasn't because he was your boyfriend, it was for how many hours he had dedicated to it. The thing is that, to celebrate his victory, you went to have a few drinks at a club with your friends; everyone went a little overboard at the end of the night.

You couldn't say exactly when you and Yunho arrived at your shared apartment, that part was a little blurry, but what you surely remembered was a couple of girls, or sluts like you called them yesterday on several occasions, approaching you two to congratulate him on his victory, fooling around with him and other nonsense to which you didn't pay too much attention due to a certain elusive hand playing under your skirt.

Everything was fine until, at some point in the conversation, one of the girls started to get a bit more cheeky. Playing with her hair very noticeably in a flirtatious way, arranging her stupid top so that her cleavage was more prominent, touching your boyfriend's arm while telling you to get lost with each sharp look she gave you.

Wasn't it obvious what kind of relationship Yunho and you had with the way in which he had you close to his body with his hand under your skirt? Well, it didn't seem so obvious to that girl if Yunho had to take her hand away several times.

He was saying something to her you didn't catch thanks to the voice in your head that told you to take that girl away from your boyfriend in a not very gentle way. Something you surely did and which made Yunho look at you in perplexity.

You remembered perfectly that push you gave that girl when she tried to separate Yunho from you by grabbing his arm disgustingly sticky and pulling him in the direction she wanted to go, making her hit against a table. In your defense, she invited your man to continue the party you two were having with her, shamelessly touching him as if you weren't right there...

You weren't aggressive at all, in fact, in all the time he had known you, Yunho never saw you get in that mood. That's why he assumed that you acted like that under the effects of those mojitos that you had had so Yunho tried to calm you down and take you away from the scene. How angry he got with the other girl when she tried to return the gesture to you, but before he could do anything you were already fighting in the middle of the club. Maybe Wooyoung shouldn't have encouraged you to 'defend what was yours'.

But then someone got to separate you two and you literally ran towards Yunho to eat his mouth in front of that girl before taking his hand and go to his car because you were so needed of him leaving you without the ability to walk properly.

Faster than in his race, Yunho drove to your apartment and the next thing you knew was that you were entering in your house without cutting off that passionately shameless kiss in which you seemed to be trying to devour the other just to end up in your bed, riding him like your life depended on it.

Things like "She deserved it, for touching what is not hers", "Who did that whore think she was trying to steal my boyfriend?", "You're mine. Mine and only mine. Mine!", "If I get pregnant you'll be mine forever. No other girl would try to take you from me" slipped from your lips all night.

Jealousy, possessiveness and unreasonableness. All because of the alcohol in your system. Something your lovely Yunho who cares about you the most, who always gives you a princess treatment, who only has eyes for you, didn't deserved.

But, despite what the remorse made you believe, Yunho wasn't bothered by your actions or words from last night at all, just surprised with your sudden aggressiveness and that subsequent need to milk him until not a single drop of his seed was left in him. And of course that wasn't a problem for him, how could bother him his girlfriend bouncing like crazy on his cock?

Quite the opposite.

In fact, he woke up hard, even after all you two fucked. What could he say? The first thing his sleeping brain registered was his beautiful and tiny girlfriend stuck to his body, so snuggled into your grip that your knee bumped into his morning pride every time you adjusted your position, and you moved a lot when sleeping.

You slept with one of his shirts, and Yunho was not going to lie, seeing you naked obviously turned him on but seeing you in one of his oversized shirts? Oh man, his cock could get harder than ever just with that picture.

He was about to wake you up with his tongue in a very enjoyable way but you woke up before he could go down and started to cry for how you acted last night, ending in this situation.

Ouh but don't worry, Yunho knew how to manage the situation to make you stop crying. At least for feeling bad.

With his hands now grabbing your waist while your left knee was pressed against his cock thanks to that position in which he put you and a simple approach of his mouth to your ear to whisper a few words in a certain low and deep tone, Yunho put on display his magic "You want to know why I didn't stop you?" He could feel your heart beating real fast against his chest, your breathing started to get agitated too "Because I don't get the chance every day to see my sweet girl working so hard to milk my balls like you did last night" your body tensed under the gentle touch of his hands going down slowly and tortuously rubbing the exposed skin of your thighs.

"I even wake up hard for dreaming how good I make you come again and again and again on my cock," His naughty thumbs playing dangerously with the hem of your-his shirt, threatening to expose more of your body from his hungry gaze "just like you did last night with me, princess" The pet name rolls out his tongue slowly and low, his adam's apple tickled against you.

You couldn't see his face but you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, you were more than a hundred percent that Yunho was smiling; you could even hear it in his sensual deep morning voice.

But why would he not be smiling when he had his princess trembling in desire right on top of him for just a few words?

"The beautiful faces you made just by bouncing on my cock are still playing on my mind, you know?" Your body felt so fucking hot now, his words were turning you up so fast that your pussy started getting wet embarrassingly fast; and that was a problem because you weren't wearing panties AND you were sitting right in his thigh.

"Ouh," his hands came up to your hips "is my girl having a little problem in her princess parts?" And with a teasing smirk he began to slowly rub you on his thigh, the soft fabric of his pajama pants feeling unexpectedly rough with each new brush on your clit "Y-Yuyu..." his favorite nickname sighed in a moan for the pleasantly friction in your sweet bottom made him bite his lip, trying to hold himself a bit more.

Oh but you already needed to fulfill Yunho's insatiable desire. You wanted to let him make you melt on his arms while you creamed his cock for hours.

"Yes darling?" Yunho brought his mouth to the extra sensitive spot on your neck, that one he liked to abuse so much with his mouth and teeth "Please… make love to me" The moment you finished your phrase his lips were pressing gently against yours in a slow, passionate kiss that you weren't willing to let break soon, neither him.

One of his hands got comfortably positioned in your lower back while the other was on your neck and your left hand was placed in the back of his head while your right was in his shoulder. Your lips together in a harmonious dance while Yunho gently laid you on your back to lie himself on top of you.

When he broke the kiss for the lack of air your gazes connected immediately, his eyes looking directly into your soul, in your heart; like if he could read your thoughts and feelings.

"Is my sweet girl looking for something more intimate and soft this morning?" And you nodded, not trusting your voice "Alright then, what my princess wants, my princess gets".

Although he woke up with the need to fuck you hard and animalistic against the mattress, now that he had you under his frame, looking at him with those beautiful sparking eyes that always managed to keep his heart captive, pleading to be loved instead of fucked, Yunho wanted to make you see stars by making love to you in the sweetest way possible.

"I could make love to you all day if you keep looking at me like that" he whispered against your lips, kissing down your jaw and neck when you craned your neck to give him more access "Being like this with you all day" You wrapped one of your legs around his hips in an attempt to feel more of him "I really would love that" You could feel his smile against your skin, his hand running desperately slow but so deliciously through your body with such a delicacy, going from your stomach up to your chest "Then," his thumb was now rubbing your lower lip, his eyes meeting yours again, shinning with all the love he felt for you "I think I'm going to get you pregnant at the end".

Oh! Right... that's what you were saying last night. You have to admit that you became a little irrational yes...

"I…" one long wet kiss on your jaw "I'm sorry," another even wetter on the weakest spot in your neck "f-for what I said" another shorter on your collarbone "I... I was out of place and—".

"There's no need to apologise for that, princess" his hands slowly pulling up the shirt, gradually exposing more and more skin to his starving eyes "I just didn't expect you could get that way" You looked away and hid your lips behind the back of your hand in shame and guilt, a whispered apology slipped from your mouth "But," he passed the hem of the shirt over your boobs gently, exposing your soft lovely mounds; the silence was present for a split moment while Yunho decided whether to put one in his mouth and abuse it with his skilled tongue or if he waited a little longer.

The second one won. This time.

"I have to admit that I got harder the more possessive or jealous you became" his fingers drawing your side slowly from your hips to your breast but not letting himself touch them yet "Not to mention how fucking sexy you sounded asking me for a child. Begging me to fuck my baby on you" He said between wet and loud kisses, small sighs and moans overshadowed in each kiss.

When he separated from you, Yunho found your pleading eyes and the visible blush painting your cheeks, chuckling for how cute you looked "You're not mad at me?" your heart pounded like crazy in your chest that you could even hear it "How could I be mad at you for wanting my babies, darling?" When it seemed that his hand was finally going to touch your boob, Yunho placed it on the edge of the bed next to the other, giving you the feeling of being trapped; that made your pussy clenched around nothing in need.

"And for what happened with that girl?" You needed to assure yourself that he was not angry, mad or disappointed with you "Nah, I just didn't expect that my sweet and innocent girlfriend could hit someone" he shrugged "I can't get mad at you when I'm usually the one who gets jealous easily, although I didn't like seeing you fighting" And you nodded "I don't like it either...".

Of course you would say that, you were an angel on earth, his angel. In fact, every time you met up with the boys Yunho had to cover your ears because Hongjoong and Mingi usually blurt out a lot of swearings.

"Hey, although I don't justify it, I understand that the alcohol and Wooyoung encouraging you played their role" his face approached yours little by little "But what I definitely loved was every second of what we did in bed, what you said while you bounced on me, princess" Without warning you attacked his lips, demanding between messy kisses that he finally took you in the way you both wanted.

You still felt bad for fighting with that girl in a bad way but the guilt and the shame remained in the background, giving free hand to the desire and the need.

"I can say it every time you want, Yuyu" With the wet sounds of your mouths connected again and the sound of the fabric moving Yunho's cock was finally free "Then say it," and with another heated kiss he finally slid inside your warmth and tight velvety walls, stretching him so deliciously that he even though that you were about to come with just that slide "tell me how much you want my babies".

The slow movements of his hips rocking against you made you delirious; his body feeling deliciously electric against yours, his words filling your chest with warmth and joy. Making love with him was always so pleasingly, it even became a necessity in your life.

"Please Yuyu, please. Give me your baby. Be mine, only mine".

"I'm yours babe," Yunho cut himself with a soft, slow kiss on your lips, one of his hands playing with your exposed breast, his other arms being his support "since the first time we saw each other".

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY THREE

in which you never make it past the stairs.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, single use of 'Y/N', upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 5.4k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

23:00 ──────────────ㅇ─ 24:00

“Be honest with me, Eddie. Do you like her?” 

Eddie feels pathetic when all he can do is hum in response to Nancy’s voice over the line, mind moving in slow motion as looks down at you. You’re here, in his apartment and curled up on his couch. You’re here, and you’re his for twenty four hours, if he can just stop fucking it all up. 

He should have known the hum wouldn’t satisfy his best friend.

“No. I want a real answer,” she scolds, and he can imagine her frustrated scowl she wears as he gives her nothing. But he just feels defeated – he’s at a loss for words right now, “Don’t over think it – do you really like her?”

No. No, I do not just like her. I fucking love her. And I really shouldn’t, but I do, and I can’t change that. 

“I… I think I do.” 

“I just said to not think about it. It’s a yes or no question, Munson. Don’t… Fine, don’t be honest with me. Be honest with yourself. So I’m going to ask you one last time, and I recommend you don’t think about it, because every time you do, it seems like all you do is push her further away. Do you, Edward Munson, like Y/N?” 

“I do. I really fuckin’ do.”

More than Nancy could understand. More than even he understands. He likes you, more than just in the sense of what Nancy was referring to. He likes you as a person. He likes the way you challenge him, that you won’t take his shit. He likes the way you keep up with him even if you are motivated by a fire of hatred he’d built with his own two hands. He likes the way you clearly care about people, evident with how you treat everyone else. He likes the way you never cease to surprise him. He just… likes everything about you. Every single part of you he has been gifted with witnessing even when he’s undeserving, he fucking adores.

He never stood a chance. From the moment he first met you in that bar, it was always going to end this way for Eddie. All you had to do was lay your eyes on him, and his fate was sealed.

So, yeah. Eddie Munson likes you. Eddie Munson loves you. 

—

HOUR TWENTY THREE - 3:00 PM

You don’t even make it outside the apartment building.

You make it down the hallway, sniffling the entire way and ignoring the curious glances from the neighbor that walks past you. Clearly, the entire building must have heard your fight with Eddie. They probably even heard the debauchery you two had taken part in on his balcony beforehand. 

They probably think you’re insane. You don’t really care. 

Once you enter the stairwell, it all becomes a bit too much. Your head is spinning as you take a few of the steps before you give up, dropping down to sit on one and succumbing to the dizzying feeling with your head between your knees. It’s a lot – Eddie has given you a plethora of information, too much to be able to stomach all in one go but necessary to offer you all at once. 

He always loved you. He’d felt it too, that first night. All your blooms and all your vines hadn’t been what gave you away, but instead his own garden that had begun. And instead of tending to it as you had been prepared to with your own, he’d gone and drowned it. He’d taken away any glimpse of sunshine and cut off all nutrients, tried to starve the thing inside of him away and burn it with unnecessary hatred. 

It was all so unnecessary. So, so unnecessary. 

The girl you once were isn’t something of the past. You were foolish to believe there was any separation – between who you were the first night and now, between who Eddie was that night and who he was as you left him behind. You’re both still the same people, still in the same position. 

You never stopped looking for Eddie in every room you entered. You never stopped biting your tongue at the thought of starting a conversation with him, never stopped aching to reach out for him even as he filled the ocean between you two. Every single date you’d gone on after meeting him had been a flurry of excuses. 

No, not excuses. Comparisons.

Every single person that had shown you interest in the last year had been subjected to a side by side comparison to the man you couldn’t have. To the man you thought you’d held in the palms of your hands for a night, only to have it all taken away so suddenly. None of them drank whiskey and coke. None of them wore rings on their knuckles that they would fidget with when nervous. None of them reacted when you’d stumble beside them, none of them ever offered to foot the bills of the dates they took you on. And every time you noticed these insignificant details, you’d only think of moments with a certain long-haired metalhead. 

You’d spent a year convincing yourself that there was only bad. Spent a year ignoring that nagging in the back of your head, when Eddie had been the worst fucking actor you’d ever met. He was right – his affection had seeped out time and time again, had reached out and wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Most of the time, it was your irritation that led to any arguments turning into true fights. 

You weren’t innocent in this. The blame is shared. You’d both been victims, time and time again, of absolute self-destruction. 

When your phone rings, you indulge yourself in the hope that it’s Eddie. 

It’s Steve.

“Hello-”

“What the fuck happened?” Steve cuts right to the chase, ignoring your greeting, “What the fuck does Eddie mean the bet is off?”

He’d called Steve. Obviously.

“It means the bet is off,” you feel a fresh wave of tears choke you up, “We didn’t last the full twenty four hours. We lost.”

Steve’s scoff echoes over the line, “You’re telling me that with not even two hours to spare, the two of you now find it to be a bit much? It’s been twenty two hours, nearly twenty three, what harm is there in a few mo-”

“A lot of harm, actually,” you cut him off this time, in no mood to be scolded like a child. None of them knew what had happened. None of them knew how everything had changed so drastically between you and Eddie, “I- I called it off. It was me. I’ll come up with the money for you guys, just give me a few weeks.” 

Do they know about Eddie’s feelings? Had you been the only one so oblivious to being caught up in a lie?

“Hold on, hold on,” Steve tries to soothe you, but it does nothing. When a sob escapes you, the dam finally breaking through, he grows even more panicked, “What the actual fuck happened?”

You don’t answer the question. “Can you come pick me up?” 

“I- Excuse me?”

“I need a ride,” you gasp out, swiping rapidly at your face to hide the evidence of your breakdown as you can hear someone walking up the stairs, “Can you- Christ, Harrington, can you just come pick me up?” 

More neighbors. More nosey glances. Fuck them. 

“No.” 

You almost think you heard Steve wrong. “What?”

“No, I will not be coming to pick you up.” 

“Why?” 

Your chest is aching with every sob you withhold. Trying to cling to composure, trying to cling to the fact that the worst was over. The wound could heal. The wound had to heal. 

“Tell me what happened,” Steve demands, “Tell me what the fuck has happened over the last twenty something hours, and I’ll come pick you up. But if you don’t tell me, I’m tossing my fucking keys in the canal and you can be  stuck with him for the rest of your life for all I care.” 

And therein lies the issue. You don’t want to tell him. Suddenly, you’re something animalistic, the memories of the last twenty three hours becoming something of such substance to you that you wouldn’t dare to part with them. You want to hold each moment, each stepping stone along this rocky path, close to your chest and swipe out at anyone who gets too close. You need to cradle them with care and dissect each one for your own sanity, picking apart all the times you were too blind to see the truth. 

You make your decision. The animal inside of you, hiding amongst vines of affection and blooms of hope, decides. “I can’t.” 

“You can’t, or you won’t?” 

You both know the clear distinction, and you can’t be bothered to care as your breathing finally evens, the sobs settling themselves down.

“I won’t.” 

It’s quiet for a while until you hear Steve finally laugh in disbelief. A sharp breath out at first, that grows more into a chuckle that you know pairs with him shaking his head.

“Jesus,” he whispers, “I… okay. I get it. I don’t know what the Hell went down, and I won’t force you to give me a play by play,” he pauses, and you can hear the but before he even says it. It stretches over that pregnant pause, silence only broken up by static from the phone line until he speaks again, “But you’ve got to give me something to work with here. Eddie randomly texts me that the bet is off and to tell the others, and then I call you just for you to start sobbing-“

“He only texted you?” you interrupt the plea, brows furrowing, “He just… He texted you and no one else? Did he call Nancy?” 

“What? No. I’m the only one who’s heard anything from him.” 

You stare at the wall across from you, gaze digging right into one of the cracks filled with dust.

Fuck it.

“He told me he loves me, Steve,” you begin to open up, prying that memory from the claws of the animal. It doesn’t go down without a fight, screeching as you say the words, protesting offering even the smallest of breadcrumbs to your friend. You don’t have to tell Steve everything — but you can tell him this. “He said he never really hated me, and that he loves me.” 

There’s nothing for Steve to say. You don’t know if it’s because they all really did know, saw what you couldn’t, or maybe if Eddie had already admitted this to the others. But in his honesty, he’d only mentioned Nancy knowing. And you’d seen the twist of his lips, the pinch of his eyes during that recount; you doubt anyone else knows. 

He’d been prepared to take this secret to the grave. To keep it, even from you.

“I liked him,” you admit in that quiet stairwell, almost forgetting Steve was on the other end of the line, “God, I- I just liked him so much that first night. I wanted to waste all my time getting to know him. I know you all saw it after he went cold.” 

How I searched for him in every room. How I’d always ask if he would be at functions. How I’d gravitate straight to him on the rare occasions he was there. 

You continue on, your animal within finally stopping its petulant protests. It seems to understand; there’s a balance to be found. Admitting this doesn’t mean losing Eddie. It could mean more, “Even when he started being a fucking asshole, I wanted him. I always thought I’d just get him out of my system one of these days, but I didn’t. Not even after tonight. I… I like him.” 

It’s not love. Not quite what Eddie had felt, because his plan had worked to some extent. You’d been held at an arm's length for so long, the like never had the chance to grow into love. 

“So go get him.” 

It’s the last thing you expected from Steve. “What?” 

“You like him. Present tense,” he parrots your words back to you with emphasis, “So go get him. You said he loves you, kid. And sure, there’s a lot to work through there, but the bet isn’t off yet. Texts can be deleted. I can take a few hours to come get you. Just…” you listen to his deep breath over the phone, letting his words settle within you, “What’s the worst that can happen? You guys hate each other? I think we’re a little past that now.” 

“Yeah,” you find yourself laughing, only half amused, “We are kind of past that.” 

What is the worst that can happen? 

“At the very least, tell him how you feel,” Steve continues on in such a calming tone, your chest clenches, “Because I’m sensing that you haven’t. Or else you wouldn’t be sitting on the phone crying to me, and Munson wouldn’t be impulsively texting me.” 

“It wasn’t that impulsive,” you hum, leaning your cheek against the cool railing beside you, still mulling over your options. Really, option. Singular. “I made it very clear that it was over.” 

Steve lets out a groan, and you smile despite yourself, “You sound like you just broke up with the poor dude without ever even dating.” 

“I kind of did.” 

“Then go fix it!” Steve’s exclamation makes you lift your head again, “He’s an asshole, okay? We can agree on that. He’s fucking dumb, and he’s an asshole, and he definitely isn’t some dreamboat in my opinion-“

“You know, I have a bone to pick with you there,” you’re already standing up, heading inclined towards the door you had just burst through, feet heavy as you try to dig within yourself for just a little bit of bravery, “Why the fuck would you say what you did that night? When I met him. You told him I’d never go for him.” 

“I didn’t think you would. I mean, you didn’t jump my bones when you met me, and I am a goddamn dream boat.” 

“Steve Harrington,” you take the first step, suddenly determined, “You’re a fucking idiot. I kind of hate you right now.” 

“More than you hate Eddie?” 

“So much more.” 

“Then go tell him that,”  Steve instructs as you take a few more steps, back up on the platform for Eddie’s floor already, “Make me the bad guy, I don’t care. Tell him he even gets a free punch.”

“I get a free punch first,” your free hand reaches out to grab the door, gripping but not pulling. Not yet, “We’ll see if you’re still such a dreamboat with a broken nose.” 

It’s all teasing, but Steve can tell your anger beneath it all is very real. It isn’t something all consuming or dangerous, but it is well deserved for what he’d put you and Eddie through. All with one little throwaway comment. 

“I deserve that,” he affirms, “I really, really deserve that. Scout’s honor that you’ll get your punch when I pick you up in… say, an hour?” 

You nod, and start to pull on the door, “See you in an hour, Harrington.” 

You hang up before he can say another word. There’ll be time for more scolding later, for more genuine conversation at the hand everyone had in all that went wrong. But for now, you only have one boy on your mind. 

And apparently, he’s in love with you. Has been for a long time.

You race down that hallway faster than you had when you’d left, determination throwing you forward with each step as you grow closer to apartment 2C. You raise your fist when you come face to face with Eddie’s front door, still terribly insistent and strangely brave, when suddenly — it opens up.

“I-“ you squeak out, fist still frozen and poised in the air. 

Eddie has never looked more frazzled. He’d been clearly running his hands through his curls, frizzing them up nearly comically. His eyes are red from tears, and if you look close enough, you can see an indent in his bottom lip from his teeth digging in.

Your eyes meet his, and all he can do is sigh your name. 

You take a few steps back, and he follows. You tell yourself you need the distance, because without it, you might throw caution to the wind and just kiss him again. That’s not what you came here to do – before you can ever kiss him again, before you can put not only yourself but him through that, you need to tell him. 

Your heart is ready to burst out of your chest, and you repeat Steve’s words over and over in your mind.

So go get him.

What’s the worst that can happen?

“I thought you were leaving.” 

His voice is a broken whisper, gravely from the tears he’s no doubt been succumbing to since your exit. You search his face for any sign that he might still be far away from you, still in his head, but all you can see is that he’s here. 

He’s here, with you, in this moment. 

“I never made it down the stairs,” your voice cracks terribly, croaky and shaking until you clear your throat, “I- Steve called me.” 

“I texted him. To let him know the bet is off.” 

“I know.” 

It’s awkward, but without ice. It’d be impossible not to be, even when every glance into his eyes just fills you with warmth.

There will be time to be angry later. With Steve, and with Eddie. One day, you’ll spare the time to mull over the way he continued to treat you even after his own personal revelation of how he loved you. You should pay more attention to it now, but every time your mind tries to go there, it just becomes overcast with what’s happened on this night. 

You can’t erase the past. Good or bad. Both exist, and both fuel you as you take one more step back and support yourself against the wall across from his door, just as you had when you’d first arrived twenty three hours before. 

Eddie takes several deep breaths before he follows you. You don’t have to say a word out loud; he’s completely in tune with you as he leaves his front door wide open and walks to stand beside you. Only then, when you’re both on the same side of the hallway, do you both slide down to sit on the floor. 

“We need to talk,” you sigh, watching the way your knee knocks into his. Gentle brushes, soft touches. There’s no room for any thorns here. Your vines have wrapped their way around not just you, but him as well, and there’s far too many flowers thriving along them to even think of such dangerous pricks to linger, “I know what I said. I know that I left. But…” But I can’t stay gone. I can’t let it end like this. I can’t do it, not like this. “I never made it past the stairs.” 

His shoulder bumps yours, forces you to look at him as he offers a sad smile. He can tell you're nervous, can tell that you’re the one who’s slipping away into their mind now. 

“Hey,” he says softly, “It’s just you and me. Just two people who hate each other’s guts, remember?” 

“Except we never did,” you remind him, finally looking down to pick at the frays of your jeans, “We never hated each other’s guts. And that’s… the issue? Maybe not issue. It’s not a problem to be solved. But, you were honest with me, and I think I need to be honest back.” 

I need to say more than just no.

“I like you, Eddie,” you finally spit out, craving relief from the admission. But it won’t come, not quite yet. Not until he hears your full truth, “I liked you from that very first night. I just- when I was in this room full of people I didn’t know, not well enough at least, you took one look at me and decided that you’d sit by my side. You’d be my friend. I don’t care how the night ended and I don’t care that you went back on your gut reaction,” you take a sharp breath, and finally relief finds you as you whisper, “You chose me. That very first night, you chose me. And I want to figure out how to get back to that, not pretending to hate each other.” 

You hold no expectations for how Eddie will react, especially given that your confession was seemingly less monumental than his, but his hand coming down on your knee surprises you all the same. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and you believe it. There’s no hesitation in your belief this time. It goes without saying that you know he’ll probably spend the rest of his life sorry, trying to make up for the last year. 

You decide to put your hand over his, let your palm press into those knuckles before you move to slip your fingers between his, “I don’t want things to go back to normal. I just want us to be able to start over.” 

You catch his smile out the corner of your eye, “Yeah? That’d be pretty nice. Maybe this time I won’t be such a dick.” 

“And maybe this time I won’t throw a glass at your head,” you add, leaning into him a little, feeling his grip on your knee tighten with affection.

He shakes his head briefly before throwing it back against the wall, “I deserved that. When I deserve it, you are always welcome to throw a glass at my head.” 

“That’s an expensive way to deal with things.” 

“We’ll get the glasses from Goodwill.” 

Both of you are softly laughing when your head meets his shoulder. You should probably be talking more properly, but you don’t. You decide to just enjoy this time with him. You have an hour left.

When the door to the right of Eddie’s opens up, you both straighten up a bit, and you watch in real time as the embarrassed blush lights up across Eddie’s cheeks at the sight of his neighbor — Mr. Jenkins.

He pauses, and God you wish he hadn’t, because now your insides are turning with your own self-consciousness. He takes in the sight of you two, sitting out in the apartment building hallway, hands entertained and heads leaning on one another, and then he chuckles.

“Good. Glad you two kids figured it out. Now please, for the love of God, keep those activities private. Indoors. No more balconies.” 

Eddie has burned past pink, now a brilliant red. You’re surprised when a soft giggle escapes you, the ridiculousness of everything that has happened finally hitting you. Eddie turns his head to look at you with wild eyes, a silent scream of traitor before he faces the elderly man again.

He clears his throat, “Right. Uh, of course. Sorry, Mr. Jenkins.”

He grumbles a bit as he turns away from you two, still smiling as you can hear the faint “Yeah, yeah,” of his words.

The moment you two are alone again, you can’t help it — you burst into laughter.

Genuine and much needed laughter fills your lungs, expanding them beyond capacity as you finally let yourself just let go of the night. All the fights, all the stress, all the misunderstandings, and all the honesty seem to melt like butter from you, the tension leaving your soldiers for the first time in what feels like hours. You like him, you like him, you like him. No matter what happens after this, you like him. Just as you had that first night. Nothing can really take that from you; all the miniscule details can be worked out later. Any arguments and any fights that need to be had can be handled tomorrow. For today, you like Eddie Munson, and that’s enough.

“It’s not funny!” 

“Oh, it’s fucking hilarious,” you gasp out as Eddie gently slaps your shoulder, “That poor old man fully saw your dick.” 

“I’ll never be able to face him again,” Eddie deadpans. You don’t catch his adoring smile as you only laugh harder, “I’ll never be able to know peace in these halls again.”

You quiet down your giggles, taking your hand from his to swipe at the tears of joy that had gathered. Your stomach aches in the best way, finally, “Should’ve kept it in your pants, Munson.” 

“Says the minx.” 

It’s nice. Just as you had thought — there would be a time to laugh about it. And now, as your temple falls back against Eddie’s t-shirt and he snakes an arm around your back, is the best moment you can think of. 

The two of you let silence settle again. All you can hear is the other’s breathing, deep and calm and assured breaths that don’t whisper of any secrets or any panic. It’s peaceful; it’s absolute bliss. 

“God, I need a nap,” Eddie mumbles as he trails a finger in an insistent circle over your shoulder. Gentle and feathery light, repetitive enough to almost lull you to sleep, “How do other people do this shit?”

“I don’t know, but a nap sounds heavenly,” you nearly moan. You can picture it now, wrapping up in your usually mediocre comforter back in your dorm room, and your uncomfortable mattress has never been more romanticized.

Eddie stares at his open door for a second, thinking, “Is, uh, Harrington coming to get you?” 

You only nod against his shoulder.

“Did he tell the others that the bet is- or was- or-“

“No,” you laugh as he fumbles over the specifics, “He never told the others. As far as they know… We made it.” 

Eddie sighs in relief, “Oh, thank God. I did not want to have to pay any of those fuckers.” 

“They never would have let us live that down.” 

“Never.”

Another lapse of silence. There’s times where you think Eddie might get up, might hold out his hand for you to take and drag you into his apartment again. Maybe try and let you two squeeze one last nap in, considering the way you’re already half unconscious on his shoulder. But he never does. The two of you sit in the comforting silence of that hallway, backs pressed to the wall and bodies leaning into each other’s gravitational pull. 

Getting him was never really about having another hard conversation. Just making sure he knew that his feelings were returned, to remind him of the change that had happened within you over these last twenty three hours, was plenty enough for you. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers. Neither of you have a clock, but you can both feel the time running out, “I, uh, want to say one last thing before this is all… over.” 

“What’s up?” you mumble into the material of his t-shirt. The one that your nose nearly turns and buries into, trying to enjoy that last bit of boy that has lingered after him since the beginning of the night. 

“I need you to know I didn’t tell you everything just for this to happen,” he begins to explain, “Like, I never loved you with the intent of being loved. I actually love you without ever expecting you to reciprocate, whether it’s embarrassingly admitting you have a crush on me-” one of your hands limply comes up to hit at his chest in a pathetic lack of strength, which makes him pause to chuckle, “-or if you came back here and said that you were… like, wildly in love with me. Or you could have even said you never really want to see me again. That was never the point.”

“What if I came back just to say I forgot something? Like, ‘oh, hey, I just forgot my chapstick’?” you’re nearly slurring your words in fatigue, but still smile at the thought of doing that just to fuck with him. 

“I’d probably lie and say that there’s not a single tube of chapstick in that apartment,” he admits, his palm now just cupping your shoulder, drinking in the privilege of touching and holding you this way as he gives it a squeeze, “And then I would have shut the door, and started searching like a mad man for that fucking chapstick, and never would have told you once I found it.” 

You snort, “Keeping my chapstick? Pervert.” 

You shift your head to just barely peer up at him, and you see those fucking dimples. You can’t believe there was a time where you didn’t notice those. 

“I’m serious, though,” he lets his smile falter just a bit, but those innocent indents don’t, “You could still say the word, tell me you don’t mean it and you don’t even like me in the slightest, and it’d be fine. No hard feelings, truly.” 

He’d just succumb to the terrible fight he’d been running from this entire time. From the moment he had met you. He’d succumb to his worst fear and let himself burn for you, even if you didn’t burn with him. 

“Eddie.”

“Hm?”

“Stop being such a fucking idiot,” you chastize as you lift your head from his should. His arm remains around you, not even slipping, “Stop trying to talk me out of liking you. It’s done – I like you. End of story.” 

His smile turns into something sad for a second, something almost sour, before it really does fall completely. Only the ghosts of those dimples remain for a moment in your memory. Suddenly, you get what he means. He isn’t trying to deter you, only remind you of what you need to consider.

It’s not just another moment of insecurity. 

You probably should be putting up more of a fight. All the damage done, both tonight and in the last year, can’t really be erased in the matter of an hour. It’s a whisper of it’s okay to take time to heal, a true white flag of surrender being waved from across his ocean. 

Vines, oceans, fires, glass walls – all of the metaphors have finally turned trivial. 

“I might need time,” you give in just a little bit, knowing it’s for the best, “I… I mean, everything can’t really change so quickly. Maybe we give it a few days. A few weeks, if we have to. We…” 

“Just spent twenty four hours together, and could use the time apart?” he ends your sentence for you in a joking tone, but you both know it’s true. 

The time apart would not only do you well, but answer the burning question on both your minds – does this last past tonight? 

Right now, you’re sure it does. But it’s possible you’ll return to your dorm room, that Eddie will spend some time in his apartment without you hovering around every corner, and that it could change. That is entirely possible. 

It’s something you almost need to mentally prepare yourself for. 

“Yeah,” you rasp out, almost choked back up at the reality of it all. You blame it on the lack of sleep, “Yeah, we could probably use some time apart.” 

Saying it out loud goes against every gut instinct you have. 

“Yep,” Eddie almost seems to also be gritting those words out, tongue almost more stubborn than yours, “Time apart. Just to think. Not… uh, not forever. Not unless we decide it needs to be.” 

You sound like you just broke up with the poor dude without ever even dating.

How many couples have had this exact conversation? How many have promised temporary time apart, only to never see each other again? 

It strikes a little bit of childish fear in you, but Eddie’s arm is still warm and heavy around your back, his palm rubbing up and down along your bicep as if he can sense all that doubt that you battle with. 

It’s okay. Leaving for now is not leaving forever. Besides, you once lived a life without Eddie Munson in it. You can live that once more, if needed.

You like him. You liked him that first night, and you like him now. You like to enter rooms and know his eyes seek you out, you like to know that every time he crosses your mind that there’s a possibility that you’re also plaguing his thoughts. Time, distance, and hatred have never been able to change that.

“I-” you start to say, more vulnerability metallic on your tongue and more honesty poised for his taking, when you’re both cut off by a familiar figure coming down the hallway. 

It’s not a neighbor, not another set of judgmental eyes. 

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

[traumawhomst]

So Vampires, I won’t lie I love a platonic yandere vampire sire so much.

(1,250 words)

He sees you at your minimum wage job and at first just brushes you off as just another boring human. Then he notices the colors on your bracelet, school colors for a very expensive and exclusive school, a few (human) businesses partners he knew sent their children to that school and none of them worked for minimum wage on their free time. Between the bracelet, the callouses on your hands, and the way your eyes seemed dark and sunken, he knew everything. He left without much thought, telling himself that he didn’t care about some random human and their poor tragic life.

He told himself it was just curiosity when he looked up the current class list, (you can find anything with enough time and money) and found your name. Even in just the school photos you stuck out like a sore thumb, a wildflower in an otherwise perfectly manicured garden. A little further digging revealed you were an amazing student, even if your grades weren’t always perfect. You clearly had talent and a strong work ethic.

It’s just curiosity that makes him dig further, finding your admissions essay, in his office, finding himself smiling at some points, quietly charmed by your choice of words and styling of your essay. It had been a risk that had clearly paid off. He liked those willing to take risks, reminded him of himself when he was younger.

He might as well look further, finding your freelance writing which he poured over in chronological order a growing sense of pride in your progress over the years. Finding your work made him stumble upon your personal life.

Family, but not close, which seemed to be the theme for everyone in it. Did they know about your accomplishments? Did they even care?

He’s not very surprised when he follows you home and sees you living in a studio in an apartment with paper walls, living on a diet of instant noodles and whatever soda was cheapest for that week. How could you study living like this? You seemed to only ever work or study, taking every shift you could just to make enough to afford something a little filling than instant noodles. Surely you’re not at your best, he can’t help but wonder what you could produce given proper resources.

His colleagues laugh when he defends it all as just curiosity, and he decides to approach you in person to finally get over this little, inquiry to rest.

But you look so tired when you smile at him, you’re trying so hard to maintain the smile and he’s wondering when the last time you smiled and he realizes then, as he nods along to your explanation about whatever item he picked up, that he hadn’t seen you smile once in a week of watching you.

He could smell your blood and did his best to hide the scrunching of his nose. Wildly anemic and deficient in every vitamin and mineral that a human needed to stay upright. It set him on edge, wondering about the strain on your body it must have. Humans were so fragile already, how long could you live like this?

The thought of you dying sent a bolt of panic through him. You were young, talented, and hardworking you deserved time to flourish and grow.

It would take a few months for all the necessary paperwork to be complete and in that time he slowly builds a sort of friendship with you.

On your end an older man, (whose eye color you could never remember) started to come in at least once a week. He was sweet in a way you hadn’t expected, happy to talk about any book he or you had brought. That’s when you really noticed him, when he came in holding your favorite book. He hadn’t read it yet, and was happy to hear your small preview and talk about the major themes in it. He always managed to come in when it was slow and for some reason no one ever approached you when you two talked.

He’d said he owned a bookstore, (more than one you imagined from the amount of first editions he causally walked around with) but was visiting here for business. He told you that when you refused to take one of his very expensive first edition he tried to give you. He only relented when you explained that your apartment was rather damp and you knew that it would only degrade the book over time. Next week he showed up with the newest edition, and refused to leave with it. Really you’re doing him a favor, he’d love to hear your thoughts on it.

He wasn’t scary either, he always had this air about him that was calming. Something that made you relax and trust him, and in the few months you met him he’d never done anything make you doubt your trust in him.

He’d brought you a book to read with an immortal character in it, and asked what you’d ever take the chance if offered. The thought of being stuck in your life forever or any life really made you sick to your stomach. No you’d rather accept that your life would be finite and told him you thought life would be meaningless if you were immortal.

And for the first time, something new quickly twitch across his face. Anger? Disappointment? After months of friendly banter and discussion it was almost a slap in the face of the reality of it all. You didn’t know him, or his motives. The look only lasts a moment, before shifting to his pleasant neutral again, but you still saw it. You pretended for the rest of the conversation until he leaves. You request to a new work schedule when you finished for the day.

He on the other hand was practically spinning about it. He should have been ready for this short of answer, but he wasn’t. He’d had the conversation played a million times in his head, and you always agreed on it being a gift. He rationalized that you simply couldn’t understand it, given time you could be persuaded to see differently.

He showed up, ready to talk with you only to find out (through a heavy layer of compulsion) that you’d changed your hours to avoid Him. Time to move forward with the plan it seemed.

He found you one late night as you walked to your apartment and something about him made the hairs on the back of your neck stand-up.

He offered to walk you home, and you finally put your foot down and told him to leave you alone, as politely as you could muster. But you couldn’t seem to actually speak any of the words. What were you trying to say again?

He happily chatters on about how excited he is to show you your home, one arm around you steering you to some place you didn’t recognize. But every time you tried to say something you’d forget a little more of what was going on.

He didn’t really want it to do it this way, he told himself as he guides you in the deep state of compulsion you’re in. He wanted to win you over with the idea, to gladly accept his offer, to see it as the gift it was. But he could also admit to himself watching you try and fight the compulsion and fail, it was adorable to see the stubbornness that you had, it’d serve you well in your new life.

[cottoncandyswisherz]

we'll see

toxicbabydadd!chris x birthdaygirl!reader

warnings: toxicccccc, rough, unprotected sex (dont be dumb) biting, choking, the word 'then' a million times

-

ITS A REAL BITCHES BIRTHDAYYYY

your house is full and everyone's drunk. except you. 

you have to say sober, because you're breastfeeding your daughter aaliyah. 

but you don't have to be shitfaced to have fun, so when you hear your song come on, you tap your best friends shoulder. 

you've had a routine to freak hoe since high school so she knew what time it was. you move through the routine with no grace. throwing ass is not elegant but it's what you do best. 

"WE ATTTTEEE!" she yells over the music.

"AND DIDDDD!" you shout back. 

"IM NOT DRUNK ENOUGH!" and with that, she's gone. off to make herself another drink, leaving you to go to your room to call the sitter and pump. 

but as soon as you enter, you see chris standing in your room, on his phone. he looks up when he hears me. 

"what the fuck?"

"i just wanted to give you your gift and leave."

"so you went to my bedroom?"

"i saw you dancing with celine. i didn't wanna kill your vibe."

you scoff at this and sit on your bed, bringing out your phone. "you killed my vibe when you fucked someone else while i was 8 months pregnant with your baby."

"aight, bro, chill."

"fuck you."

chris walks around your bed and stops right in front of you. his waist dangerously close your face. he places his hand under your chin, gripping your jaw. 

"watch it, mama."

WOOOOOOOOOSHHHHH just like that. panties ruined.

but tina aint raise no bitch so you stand up, roll your eyes and walk over to your dresser to fix your lashes.

"or what, chris?"

"you know what."

"i really don't" you said bluntly. "you don't get to have the whole 'i'm sorry, please let me cum' thing anymore due to the fact that you're a cheating whore that i no longer love."

hearing that must have pissed him off because he was on you in an instant. his lips on yours, his left hand applying beautiful pressure to your throat, his right hand squeezing your ass.

your head grows fuzzy. its like he has crack on his tongue and is intoxicating you with each stroke of it. 

you don't have time to think of the hurt he caused as he moved from your lips, to your neck, then to your chest. 

then he's on his knees. pushing your dress up your hips and kissing down you waist sucking hickeys onto your thighs. 

"you think that shit's funny?" he growls, biting the meat of your inner thigh. "talking shit to me, after i've been trying to get you back for months?"

this made you laugh. "you'll never get me back chris."

he turned you around so your front was pressed against the wall. his fingers gripped the edges of your panties, guiding them down your legs, biting your ass and smiling when he saw the mark of his teeth in your cheek.

"we'll see."

and then he was standing up, your back to his front, and you felt him on your bare ass, his sweats doing  little to hide the effect you clearly had on him. 

you felt his hands grip your hips and move you from the wall to your dresser, so you could see yourself. 

"i want you to watch." he slid his bottoms down to knees, freeing him of his his restraints. "i want you to watch me ruin you." 

and then he was sliding in you with so much force, you jerked forward, throwing your hand up on the mirror to brace yourself. and in that moment you remembered why you'd let him get you pregnant. 

this man was a fucking beast. 

he was fucking you like it was all he could do to stay alive. hard, fast, and so, so, fucking good. he was so deep, hitting the same spot that made you taste purple. all your senses were out the window yet you felt everything he was doing. you felt his hand digging into your waist, you heard his grunts of pleasure, you saw his eyes trained on where you were joined. 

he looked so.... fuck. 

all you could do was grasp at the edges of your dresser and keen for him.

until you felt him move impossibly faster and his fingers reach under you and draw quick circles on your clit. then all you could do was tremble in his arms and reach behind you to push him away because it was beginning to be too much. 

he used his free hand to pin your arm to your back and use it as an anchor, digging deeper in you so you felt more of him than you thought there could be. 

"oh fuuuck-" you gasped. 

"you don't love me anymore mama?" he forced out. 

"chris- shit! please...." you cried out. "i'm gonna-"

"hold it."

"no! please no." you begged. 

"you wanna cum?"

"yes please, chris" you were a mess at this point. eyes rolling back as you tried to do what he'd asked. you knew that if you came before he'd allowed it, you'd never leave this room. 

"do you love me?"

as much as you wanted to say yes, you refused to let him win so easily. 

"no."

this only pissed him off because he shifted from fast and hard to slow, deep, torturous strokes that made your brain go blank. 

"jesus fucking..."

"you sure?"

"i don't know..."

"i think you do mama." his pace on your clit was the same demonic speed as before, confusing your mind. "all you gotta do is admit it and you can come all all over me. i want you to make a mess for me. i wanna feel you all over m-"

"FINE FUCK!" you cried. "i love you."

"that's my girl."

that's all it took for his pace to restart, pounding into you with ferocity. 

"cum, mama. cum for me." 

and you did. you sucked in a deep breath and slammed your eyes shut as you shook on the dresser. 

all you heard was the blood rushing in you ears as you let go of everything you'd been holding for the past 2 minutes. 

"shit, babe. i'm gonna-"

that snapped you back into reality. you did not want any more kids right now so you gathered all the strength you could and turned around, dropping to your knees and taking him in your mouth.

your head rested on the drawers of the dresser as you felt his load shoot down you throat with a moan that can only be described as godly. and when he pulled out of your mouth he pulled you up to your feet by your throat, kissing you with so much passion, you were ready to go again. 

but then he pulled away and gripped your face so you were looking into his eyes. 

"you'll always belong to me, y/n."

niyah speaks rushed as helllllll but hapy late birthday!!! @55sturn

taglist: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @thisisntmattsturniolo @chaossturns

[cryiling]

thinking about that bkdk edating in middle school trope, except they're amino boyfriends 💀

they meet on an all might amino community. katsuki is one of the community mods, and izuku is the leader of an analysis club on there. izuku's posts were often featured and very popular in the community (he was def a microcelebrity), and katsuki always gave him a ton of amino coins on his posts.

for a challenge he's hosting for his club, izuku makes a huge deep-dive post analyzing all might's rise to fame in his bronze age. this post gets close to 10k likes, and katsuki gifts him 5k amino coins on the post. when izuku sees that number, he freaks out and assumes it must be a mistake since that's a huge number, who in their right mind would give him that much money??

he messages katsuki (who's username is 𝓓𝔂𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 ⛓️💥) (LMAOOOOO) and asks if the amount of coins was a mistake + offers to give them back. katsuki tells him that there was no mistake, and that he just really liked izuku's post. izuku is really flattered that this guy liked his analysis so much, and they continue texting back and forth for a while.

they follow each other and put each other in their bios under "bffs," and a month or two after that, they officially become boyfriends. izuku buys amino+ using all the coins katsuki had given him (katsuki keeps spending his allowance to buy more amino coins so he's super rich). they start matching profile themes after that, switching to a new theme every month. they have matching profile frames and chat bubbles and everything, and izuku makes a sticker pack of all might faces to use when texting katsuki (sometimes katsuki uses the stickers too, but only when texting izuku)

everyone on all might amino knows they're dating, since they're both such high-profile people in the community. they become the community's it-couple, and people love commenting on their walls how cute their matching profiles are. katsuki comments under all of izuku's posts praising his analysis, and izuku always replies with a string of all might heart-eye stickers.

6 months into their relationship, izuku tells katsuki he can call him by his real name. up until now, izuku had gone by the nickname "golden" in honor of all might's golden age. when izuku tells katsuki his name, though, he doesn't get a response. the next day, izuku wakes up to find that katsuki's profile has been deleted entirely.

izuku feels like throwing up. he doesn't know what happened to dynamight, if he caused this, what could have caused this. he debates deleting his account too, ashamed and confused and hurt, but ultimately decides against it. he changes his profile theme back to an aesthetic picture set of all might in his iconic golden age pose, and continues posting on all might amino as if nothing happened. he doesn't reach out to new people on amino again.

when izuku gets into ua and his workload drastically increases, he stops finding time to post on amino, eventually deleting the app entirely (his profile stays up, though).

in second year, izuku is sitting in the common room with his friends, somehow having been roped into a conversation about dating. "you've never been in a relationship before, have you, deku-kun?" uraraka asks him.

his friends' eyes all focus on him, and he blushes. "well, i had an online boyfriend in middle school, but i'm not sure if that counts." his friends gape at him, clearly surprised. some other people lingering about in the common area also tune into the conversation. katsuki is one of them.

"really, midoriya-kun?" iida says, doing his best to hide his blatant shock. "i must say, that sounds rather out of character for you!"

"did you guys break up or something?" todoroki asks.

izuku grimaces, remembering what happened. "i told him my real name, and then he deleted his account. i think it was because of my name, but I guess i don't know for sure."

uraraka frowns. "that sucks! he didn't deserve you anyway. what an asshole move." the rest of izuku's friends nod in agreement at that. out of the corner of his eye, izuku sees katsuki get up from his armchair and storm out of the room.

months later, izuku and katsuki finally start dating for real. izuku is so overwhelmed with happiness, and katsuki's eyes light up every time he sees izuku. one night, though, katsuki pulls him aside. "there's something i need to tell you."

izuku frowns in confusion. "what's up?"

katsuki takes a deep breath. "...i'm dynamight."

this does not clear izuku's confusion. "um... yeah, i know what your hero name is."

"no, it's-" katsuki cuts himself off, then starts again. "i was dynamight on amino, too."

izuku feels his heart drop. he's not sure what katsuki is saying, why he's bringing it up. "you... we were... you mean we dated back in middle school?"

katsuki nods, eyes on the floor. he doesn't say anything else.

"why did you..." izuku licks his lips in apprehension. "why did you delete your account?"

katsuki is silent for a moment. "i freaked out when i found out who you were," he finally says. "i mean, you know how i was treating you in real life back then. and we had been texting all that time, and i had been comforting you from the bullying you were going through, only to realize it was me who was- i didn't... i didn't know what to say. and obviously i was really immature at the time and wasn't ready to process my feelings yet. but that whole thing helped me realize my feelings for you, even though i didn't want to accept that at the time.

"but," katsuki continues, clearly on a roll now, "that still doesn't excuse what i did. it was a shitty move. and i know i've apologized for how i bullied you before, but i'm sorry for this, too, izuku. i know i hurt your feelings. i swear i'll be a better boyfriend this time, i promise. uh- only if... if you still want to be together."

izuku can't even think of what to say for a moment, still silently reeling at katsuki's confession. eventually he says, "no, i- i get it. we were both pretty immature at the time, and to be honest i kind of got over it a while ago. but," he smiles, "that apology really means a lot to me. and of course i still want to be with you."

he leans in to kiss katsuki briefly. izuku doesn't think he'll ever get used to that.

katsuki rests his forehead against izuku's, eyes taking in izuku's face. "i swear i'll be an even better boyfriend than dynamight was, golden."

and then they lived happily ever after :>