#i have gotten away with not buying any new clothes until now besides a couple of oversized shirts and a couple pairs of shorts a size up

[ghostlyquill]

the maternity underwear i ordered got sent to my old address by mistake and i am the saddest girl in the world. i am down to like 5 pairs that fit me rn and truthfully i will be surprised if those make it more than another couple weeks lol

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Two

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Smut (DubCon,) Manipulation, Anxiety

Word Count: 3.4K

A/n: Boom part two! I wanna hear what y’all think’s gonna happen with this series

Madness Masterlist

Bad Dream Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

“Good morning, Darling.” Chapped lips press a kiss to your cheek, strong arms winding around your figure and a sharp chin digging into your shoulder.

“Breakfast smells delicious.” You only hum, trying to get your hands to stop shaking.

“Is it eggs?!” Sarah bounds down the stairs excitedly, running straight for your legs.

Steve intercepts her, tossing her up in the air then catching her in his arms again.

She erupts in a fit of giggles and squeals as he starts tickling her, and you find yourself biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything to him.

“Eggs and bacon and pancakes only for you, Princess!” He exclaims, kissing her cheek then setting her back on her feet.

“Do I still go to school?” Sarah asks, climbing up onto one of the barstools and kicking her legs.

“Yes, sweetie, you still have to go to school. We’re gonna get you back to school soon, there’s just some things that... your dad... and I need to discuss first, okay? But today, you can relax at home, eat your breakfast and explore the house if you want.” She nods her head eagerly, little hands holding her fork as you slide a plate of food over to her.

You portion some out for Steve too, grinding your teeth together in distaste.

You scoured the house for anything that could be used against him but came up completely empty-handed. Rat poison, bleach, Lysol. Nothing.

He takes his plate with a smile, his free hand gripping your waist and turning you to him slightly.

He leans down, lips pressed against yours for a brief gentle moment before pulling away and sticking his tongue out at a snickering Sarah.

He sits down beside Sarah and starts eating, his eyes boring holes into your back as you gather some food for yourself. As you’re getting ready to sit down, he stands up, unlocking a drawer by the sink and grabbing a bottle of something.

Your heart races in your chest and you hold your fork just the tiniest bit tighter, prepared to use it as a weapon if you need to.

He turns back to you with a smile, setting two small pills on your napkin, away from Sarah’s curious gaze.

“Take them with your food,” he instructs, kissing your forehead then sitting back down between you and your daughter.

"Morgan’s gonna get dropped off for a little while, Sarah. She’s around your age and I think you two will get along great. You guys can play while your mother and I talk, okay?” She bobs her head up and down, shovelling the eggs into her mouth.

“Good.”

~*~

“They’re really hitting it off,” Steve says with a smile, watching as his daughter and her new friend play in the backyard.

You hesitantly come up beside him, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“I-I’m always nervous about her making friends. She’s never really had problems with it but...” You trail off, taking a step back as he turns around to face you.

“Tony’s got Morgan enrolled in a private school, says it’s really good. I was thinking we could send Sarah there too.” You bite your bottom lip and shrug. “I-I don’t know how I feel about private schools. What are the reviews like? And are they strict? I don’t want her... all I want is for her to have a normal childhood. That’s all I want.” Steve’s face softens and he nods, taking your hand and ushering you to the living room.

“It’s all gonna be okay. I know it’s gonna take some getting used to, but it’ll all work out in the end, you’ll see.”

You take a couple of deep breaths, wanting so desperately to believe him but you know better.

“Tony says the school’s really good, and it’s not super strict. The kids still get to have fun and make friends while learning. I think we should give it a shot and if she doesn’t like it we’ll find another school for her to go to.” You nod, eyes fluttering over to the window looking over the backyard.

“Now, I think you and I need to set down some ground rules, okay?” You turn to him, your guard up in an instant.

His face is calm, but you still don’t trust him.

“Sarah’s going to be at school all day, I’ve gotta go to work, which means you’re going to be here to look after the house. My beautiful housewife.” You furrow your brows, “What am I supposed to do here all day?” He looks around with pursed lips.

“Cook and clean? Keep the house looking nice, maybe you could start a garden if you want. But soon you’ll have less time for moving around and more time for...” he trails off, his hand coming to rest on your stomach.

“You’re gonna give me another baby, gonna carry it in that beautiful body of yours. And when the baby gets here you’ll have your hands full so you may want to start planning for that now.”

You’ve got no choice in this.

“D-did you keep any of Sarah’s old baby furniture?” You ask softly, fighting back tears.

“No, I gave it to Nat and Bucky cause they were talking about adopting. But you can buy more. I’ll give you my card and that can be your task. When Sarah’s at school and you’re done with cleaning, you can start setting up the new baby’s room.” He says it like it’s the most prestigious task he could give and you should be thanking him for the opportunity.

“Now, one last thing...” He eyes you for a moment then shakes his head.

“Your old wardrobe is going to be gotten rid of. I don’t want to see you in these leggings or jeans. I’ll have Nat bring over some clothes that are more acceptable, but until then, there should be a few decent dresses still in the closet from... before.” His eyes dark the tiniest bit at the mention of how things were.

“I want you to go change, then gather up all your old clothes. Once that’s done, you can start making lunch. I’m going to run out to grab a few things for dinner, we’re having guests over tonight, so I expect you to be on your best behaviour, okay?”

You say nothing, eyes focused on the floor.

He grabs your chin roughly and forces you to look at him, his eyes blazing.

“I asked you a fucking question, dear. You’d better answer me before I get angry.”

You swallow hard then nod, “o-okay. I will.”

He nods and lets go of your face with a smile, rising to his feet and fixing the sleeves of his shirt.

“Good. I’m thinking pasta for dinner.”

~*~

You’re wearing a yellow sundress that comes just past your knees. It flows with every step you take and you’ve gotta admit that it’s quite pretty. You hate that he chose it, though.

You set the dining room table silently, mind racing. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice you’re not alone until a hand is grabbing the bottom of your dress.

“Mommy, did you hear me?” You gasp, jumping in surprise then shaking your head.

“No, Sarah, I didn’t. Mommy was just thinking. Sorry, what did you say?” She huffs a breath.

“Daddy said that Aunty Nat is coming over for dinner! Do you think she’ll bring ice cream?” Your heart clenches and you sigh.

“I uh... I don’t know. You’ll have to go ask... your father.”

“Ask me what?” Sarah turns to him and lifts her arms, giggling happily when he scoops her up in his arms.

“When Aunty Nat comes is she gonna bring ice cream?”

“Well, I don’t know if she’ll bring ice cream, but maybe after dinner we can all go out and get an ice cream cone. How does that sound?” She claps her hands together in excitement, squealing when she hears the front door open.

“Knock knock!” A female voice calls.

You swallow hard, trying not to let your anger get the better of you as Sarah shimmies out of her father’s grip and rushes to the door.

“Aunty Nat!” The redhead picks her up and spins her around.

“Hey, pumpkin! How’s my favourite girl doing?”

You walk back to the stove, stirring the noodles and imagining how satisfying it would be to dump the boiling water on the traitorous redhead.

“How’s dinner coming along?” Steve asks, his hands finding your hips.

“Just about done. Everyone can sit down, it’ll only be a minute more.” He nods, kissing your temple and opening the fridge to grab drinks.

“Hey, pal.” You stiffen, too many memories filling you at the voice.

“Hey, Buck. Glad you could make it.” You keep your back to the brunet, not wanting to see him, to remember what happened any more than you already have to.

“Aren’t you going to greet our guests, dear?” Steve asks, one hand grabbing the waistline of your dress and tugging. You reluctantly turn around to face the brunet just as the redhead walks into the room.

“Well?” Steve asks, looking at you expectantly. You say nothing, glaring daggers at Natasha. She meets your gaze for a moment then looks away, knowing full well what she’s done.

“Dinner’s ready.” Is all you say, yanking out of Steve’s grip and turning back to the stove.

“It’s nice to see you again too, (Y/n),” Bucky says, walking past you and into the dining room.

Natasha brings Sarah after him, leaving you and Steve alone.

“You and I will need to have a long conversation once they leave,” he hisses. “If your attitude doesn’t improve, then you’re going to need to be punished for it.”

You turn and look up at him with defiant eyes.

“I’m wearing your stupid dress and I’m playing your stupid game. What more do you want from me? You’ve got me and my daughter held hostage in your goddamn dollhouse and-” He grabs you by the throat, shaking his head at you.

“Fine. I’ll fucking teach you now then.”

He shoves you aside and walks into the dining room, a smile on his face.

“She’s just gonna bring dinner out. Then she and I need to have a little chat before we join you.” You reluctantly bring the food out, if only so Sarah can eat. You’ve hardly set the steaming dishes down before Steve’s grabbing your hand and yanking you through the house and up the stairs.

Your heart races in your chest, fear coursing through your veins at what he may have planned for you.

Flashes of different ways he’s punished you run through your mind and you feel your eyes fill with tears as he shoves you onto his bed.

His chest is heaving, with anger or exertion, you can’t tell.

“S-Steve I’m sorry. P-please don’t hurt me.” He watches you for a moment then shakes his head.

“You know I can’t tolerate that kind of behaviour.” You crawl back, tears dripping down your cheeks.

“I-I’m just, please! I’m scared and tired a-and I don’t have any friends and m-my dad is-is...” You shake your head, hoping he has a shred of decency left inside of himself.

“Please!” He stares at you long and hard then sighs. “You know I love you, and I love Sarah with my entire heart. But I can’t tolerate this rude behaviour. I know it’s a big transition for you, and I’m willing to be patient, but you can’t treat our guests that way. Rudeness directed at me is different, but you have no right to treat Bucky and Natasha the way you did. That’s why you’re being punished. I’ll forgive the snappy behaviour towards me, but not them.”

You shake your head and shove your face in your hands, sobs bubbling free from your chest.

“Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.” He nods, turning to the dresser and pulling out a familiar box.

It’s the box he keeps his torture toys in, you realize.

“Lay down on your stomach. If you listen, your punishment won’t be nearly as severe.” You sniffle and nod, rolling over and laying down on your tummy.

He flips your dress up and yanks your panties down your legs, eyeing your ass for a moment.

“Bucky and Nat are important members of this family, and you will treat them as such, do you understand?” You nod, crying out in pain and thrashing away from him as a leather paddle comes down hard on your ass.

“Am I going to have to tie you to the bed?” You can’t answer, you’re too busy trying not to choke on your own snot.

He grabs your wrists roughly and ties them to a hoop on the headboard, successfully leaving you at his mercy.

He smacks you again, and again, then a fourth time, and you squirm away as much as you can.

“When you’re good, you don’t get punished.”

He delivers sixteen more impossibly hard hits, then tosses the paddle onto the ground and climbs onto the bed, cock raging in his pants.

His knees push your legs apart and you shake your head, tugging against your restraints desperately as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Huh, would ya look at that?” You press your face into the mattress, humiliation filling you as he rubs his cock through your wet folds.

“Feels like somebody enjoyed that a bit more than they were letting on, huh?” You shake your head, crying out as he sheaths himself fully with only one thrust.

Your walls burn at the intrusion, body instinctively creating more moisture to lubricate the violation, but that’s not how Steve sees it.

“Fuck, your body misses me, huh? Hates it when my cock isn’t fucking you.” He grabs your hips and hoists them up, then starts a punishing pace, forcing you to take every painful inch of him.

“Fuck, feel how tight you are... squeezin’ me so nice...” Every hit of his hips against your ass makes you cry out in pain, your entire lower half on fire.

“M’gonna fill you with my cum then lock it in. You’re gonna give me another fucking baby. Gonna grow nice and big.” He picks up the pace, eyebrows furrowed and face screwed up with pleasure.

His hips still, warmth exploding within you as he reaches his climax.

He stays inside you for a long while, catching his breath while his cock softens, then he slowly pulls out.

“You know,” he begins, rooting around in the box for something, “it’s much more effective if you orgasm too. Really sucks it all up in you and improves the chances of fertilization.” A switch flips and then there’s a constant buzzing noise filling your ears.

Right as you realize what it is, he’s got the vibrator pressed against your clit.

You jolt away from it, hips wiggling at the stimulation.

“N-no,” you whisper uselessly, inhaling sharply when he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you steady, forcing the vibrator against you.

“Look at that... feels good, huh?” You don’t reply, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as the coil in your belly tightens, your toes curling and your back arching, forcing the device against you even more.

Your mouth drops open and your eyes roll back as your body starts to convulse, a powerful orgasm tearing through your entire being.

“There it is,” Steve whispers, watching with dark eyes as he forces an orgasm out of you.

Your pussy flutters and clenches, clit swollen and aching when he finally removes the vibrator.

You’re still recovering from the intensity of your climax when he presses something cool to your entrance.

He forces the plug inside of you, despite your protests, then yanks your underwear back up your legs.

“Now c’mon. We’ve got guests to entertain.” He unties your wrists then helps you to your feet, watching in satisfaction as you struggle to walk down the stairs.

You rub your raw wrists, heart racing in your chest as you slowly walk into the dining room.

Bucky and Nat each look up at you, the redhead turning away while the brunet eyes you, a dark look in his eyes.

Steve’s hand remains possessively on the small of your back, and you carefully sit down, wincing at the burn in your backside and the throbbing of your core.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Steve says, a smile on his face as you portion out some food for him and yourself.

“It’s alright. Things happen,” Bucky replies, eyes stuck on your face.

“It’s been a while since we... since I last saw you, (Y/n). How have you been?” You swallow hard, eyes focused on your plate as you answer Bucky’s question.

“I’ve been fine. How have you been?” He takes a moment to answer, and in the thick silence of the room you can hear the metal plates in his arm whirring.

“I’ve been good. Happy that Steve has you back now.” You nod, forcing yourself to chew and swallow a mouthful of pasta.

“Mommy I’m full! Can we go for ice cream now? Aunty Nat and Uncle Bucky said we could!” You nod, pushing your almost untouched food away and standing up quickly.

“J-just let me clean up, then we can go for ice cream.” You start gathering the dishes, eager to leave the room and put some distance between yourself and the people at the table.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Nat says, rising to her feet and gathering the other half of the dishes.

You ignore her, grabbing the remainder of the food and starting to pack it up in containers in the kitchen.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry.” You shove the food into the fridge and turn to face her, tears welling up in your eyes.

“You’re sorry? That’s it? You’re fucking sorry?! I’m right back where I fought tooth and fucking nail to escape because of you! You’re the reason I’m back here with him, why Sarah’s back here and why he’s hurting me all over again and all you have to say for yourself is ‘I’m sorry’?!” Your voice is whispered, but the words may as well be shouted.

She shakes her head, hating the truth behind your words.

“Y-you don’t understand, (Y/n). I had to.” You sniffle and scrub a fallen tear off of your cheek.

“Or what? Would he kill that rapist boyfriend of yours? You swore you’d keep it a secret and now, because of you, my father’s dead and I’m stuck with a man who’s going to torture me and possibly my daughter as well. So don’t you fucking dare tell me you had to or that you’re sorry because those are both lies.”

You take a few deep breaths, walking to the sink and starting to wash the dishes.

“I trusted you. And you led him straight to us. I don’t care what you say or what you do, I’ll never fucking forgive you. If it were up to me, you’d be left at that cabin to bleed out. It’s what you fucking deserve after what you’ve done.”

She’s silent, standing there behind you for a long moment before turning and leaving the kitchen.

Your hands shake with the intensity of your outburst and you have to stop yourself from crying, chest rising and falling rapidly as your emotions get the better of you.

Your vision starts to blur, soapy hands gripping the edge of the counter tight enough to hurt. You lean over slightly, trying desperately to suck in more air as anxiety fills and overwhelms you.

“(Y/n)?” You don’t notice his hands on you until he’s pulling your hands off of the counter.

“I-I can’t.”

His hands find your waist, trying to usher you away from the sink, and your ears begin to ring.

Your knees give out and you crumble in his arms, him easily supporting your weight as you lose consciousness.

“Buck, take Sarah out for ice cream now.” His voice holds the same type of authority as it does when they go on missions, and the brunet pops his head into the kitchen to investigate for a moment before nodding.

“C’mon Sarah. Do you know what you want?” Bucky asks, taking Sarah’s hand and leading her to the front door.

“Do you?” She sasses.

“Well missy, I’m gonna get two scoops of chocolate, and Aunty Nat's getting mint chocolate chip.”

“I want cookie dough!”

The front door closes with a soft click and Steve sighs, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

[thedevilsdom]

snake girlfriend

contains: F!Reader/Leviathan, pegging, feminization, cross dressing, taking your snake gf out on a date

i wanted to see feminization with Leviathan, to nobody’s surprise

word count: ~6.5k

You were surprised by how little convincing it took to have Leviathan agree to this.

You were just hanging out with him in his room one day, doing what you usually do there, which is go on your D.D.D or on a handheld console while he played something on his computer and you two just enjoyed doing your own thing in the company of each other. Suddenly, you were struck with a brilliant idea, and decided why not bring it up to your boyfriend?

“Levi,” You called, grabbing his attention away from his game. He pulled his headphones down to around his neck, played for a second or two more so that he could get somewhere he could pause, and spun his chair around to face you in his bathtub. You look up at him casually, turning your phone screen to show him what you were looking at. On your social media feed, you’d gotten a post from someone about an outfit of the day they were wearing. It was simple, a cute white blouse and a dusty pink skirt, with thigh high white socks and cute brown leather shoes. He squinted at your screen for a moment then looks past it to you,

“Y-yeah, you’d look cute in that.” He stated, thinking that that’s what you were asking, before putting his headphones back on. Before he could turn back to his computer, you giggled,

“Not on me, baby.”

And he froze.

“I was thinking about… You know how you put on cute little things for me, sometimes?” You said, referring to his cosplay, costumes, and lingerie that you’ve either seen or had him wear. “I was thinking about how maybe we could get you all pretties up and I could take you out for a day on the town.” By this point you’d stepped out of the tub and walked over to him, one hand on one arm rest of his chair, and the other gently holding his chin to make him look up at you. His face was flaming red. “I could take you out as my pretty little girlfriend.”

“Y-yes! Of course!” He yelped, voice high. You tried to not let the shock show on your face, surprised at how very little you had to say before he was agreeing to your idea. Instead, you give him a pleased smile and a short, soft kiss.

“Good. I’ll get everything ready, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” You started scrolling through your phone in preparation. “I’ll tell you once I figure out when we’re doing this.” You knew that Leviathan likes to know things ahead of time, so nothing gets sprung on him, though of course telling him also gives him the opportunity to start getting anxious ahead of time, but you figured that that’s better than him going into a fit and refusing to leave the house because he doesn’t feel prepared enough.

Over the course of the next couple of days, you figured out the perfect day that you could use for this. Lucifer was going to be at meetings with Diavolo, Mammon had to catch up on RAD work, Satan had a debate, and so on and so forth. Everyone was going to be busy, save for you and Leviathan, and that meant that there wouldn’t be any chance for any of them to spot you two outside. You didn’t really care if they saw you, but you knew that Leviathan would rather anything other than his brothers seeing him dolled up like that.

During that time, you’d also managed to get your hands on something that Leviathan could wear. With your preparations out of the way, you’re ready for your date with your beautiful girlfriend.

--

The day finally rolls around and you get up, immediately sending a message to Leviathan.

MC: >> Do you want to eat something here and then go out? That way we could have tea at a nice little café while we’re out

Levi: >> Sounds good to me

MC: > I’ll grab something for us from the kitchen and head up

You swing by the kitchen, whipping up some ‘breakfast ramen’, that Leviathan had told you how to make. Really it was just instant noodles with an egg, but it was something familiar that he liked, and you figure that he’s probably feeling a little anxious and this should settle his nerves at least a little. Once that’s ready, you take that and the other stuff you’d need up to his room.

By the time you get there, Leviathan’s been up for a little bit, kind of just puttering about his room, keeping himself occupied with little things until you arrive. When you open the door, his eyes go wide for a second before he spots the tray in your hands and rushes over, taking it from you and setting it down at his desk. He pulls up his gaming chair and the second seat in his room that you’d made him buy, setting them up and putting a bowl in front of each of the chairs. Once organized, he immediately starts chowing down.

“So,” You say, taking a bite of some of your own noodles, “I was thinking that we could go shopping for a little bit, then maybe go grab a bite and head home a little after?” Watching him nod tentatively, you push the bag you’d brought to him, “You can look at your outfit, if you want.”

He finishes his meal quickly and unzips the bag, looking into it and pulling each item out one by one. The first thing out is a long sleeved, white blouse, with little cuffs at the wrists that make the sleeve bell out just a little bit. The next thing he takes out is the pair of white thigh high stockings, they have tiny white bows at the top cuff. Then the shoes, they’re simple and leather with a little bit of a heel, something he could comfortably walk in for a while, while not looking too masculine. Next out is a wig, soft and comfortable, and similar to his own hair color, already styled by you into a style that’s vaguely reminiscent of Ruri-Chan’s twin ponytails. Finally, he pulls out the skirt. It’s baby pink and pleated, reminiscent of a school girl’s uniform.

“There’s more stuff in there.” You say through a mouthful of noodles, gesturing with your chopsticks. He sets the clothing aside and peers into the bag, curious. Inside he spots some basic make up, and under it-

“I- I can’t wear that!” He gasps, shoving the bag and its contents back at you. You catch the bag effortlessly and pull out the little lingerie set.

“Nobody will see it but me, and I think your boxers would show past the hem of your skirt.” You state, setting the bag down on the floor next to your seat. “But if you wouldn’t be comfortable in them, we can figure something else out.” Leaning forward, you give him a kiss on the forehead, “I want you to have a good time today.” Extending the hand that holds the lingerie set out to him, you leave the option open for his consideration.

Timid hands with painted nails delicately take the lingerie as Leviathan looks it over. He feels the texture of the fabric between his finger tips. Its smooth, soft, and it feels like it’d actually be more comfortable than his current briefs. Along with a pair of white, simple panties, is a bralette. It’s sheer and white, with no cups or any real form, it would hug against his chest. He knows that this won’t serve any real purpose besides you knowing that he’s wearing it. A shiver races down his spine at that.

“I-I’ll wear it!” He yelps, more loudly than he intended, his hand immediately flying to his mouth and covering it. You giggle, a sound that makes his heart flutter.

“I’m glad, Levi.” You take his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles. “Should I help you get dressed, or can you manage?” He looks at you, then looks away, then back at you as he mulls over the options.

“I-I’ll get myself ready.”

With that, you give him a gentle smile and gather up the dishes from your breakfast.

“I’ll be back in a little bit to do your make up, then.” You pick up the tray and walk out of the room.

While you’re out washing the dishes and changing into something else yourself, Leviathan is putting his new outfit on.

One he takes everything off, he starts with the lingerie set. He pulls the panties on. With his cocks hidden behind his reptilian vent, they fit well, hugging his form. He can’t help but step in front of his mirror, admiring how they look on him. He struggles a little bit with the bralette before he manages to clip it closed properly, glancing at the mirror again.

Usually Leviathan can’t stand to see himself in the mirror. He usually feels like a slob, someone who doesn’t take care of himself, someone who nobody could possibly think is attractive. Now as he puts his outfit on piece by piece, the outfit that you got for him, the one that you wanted him to wear, the one that you specifically requested he wear because you wanted to see him in it, he can’t take his eyes off his reflection. As his fingers do the final button on his blouse, everything else already on, he feels wanted. He feels loved.

You knock on the door.

You’ve put on the clothes that you plan on wearing out, and you rock back and forth on your heels as you wait for Leviathan to give you the all clear.

“MC? Y-you can come in!” He calls out from the inside of the room. You turn the doorknob and push it open stepping in. The second your eyes land on Leviathan, you can’t help yourself from dropping your bag at the door and approaching him, your arms wrapping around his waist while you admire him.

“You’re so pretty, Levi,” Your voice is an awestruck whisper that makes his face red. You press a kiss to his lips, “Beautiful,” Then one to his jaw, then one on his neck.

“S-s-stop! We- don’t we still- uhm!” He stammers out, head spinning. You smile against his neck, your warm breath making him tremble.

“Right, we still have a date to go on, don’t we?” You pull back. “Go sit, let’s get your make up on.”

Putting make up on Leviathan isn’t too difficult, especially since you’re doing a very simple look. Just a little lipgloss, some mascara, blush, hardly much else but it does leagues to make him look more feminine. He already has a somewhat round face and long lashes, so it truly wasn’t difficult.

“You’re so beautiful,” You sigh, putting away the make up and brushes to take care of later, when you come back. “I get to take my beautiful girlfriend on a nice date!” You sing. Leviathan’s still coming to terms with the fact that you actually want to go out and do something like this with him. You take his hand and lead him out of the room, making your way towards your first destination.

The first place you go to is the main shopping street just a little bit away from the House of Lamentation. You keep Leviathan’s hand in yours the whole time, glancing up at him whenever you can. His expression is nervous, anticipatory, but excited. He looks happy to be here, out with you. As you get to be a couple blocks away from the House, and nearing the shopping street, you stroke your thumb across his hand.

“How are you feeling?” You ask.

“Good,” He says. “It’s c-comfy… And I like- it- it’s nice, knowing that you think I look good.” The longer he speaks, the quieter he gets, his free hand fiddling with the hem of his skirt.

“Baby, I always think you look good.” You press a kiss to his hand. “You don’t have to worry about a thing today, okay? Just have a good time. I’ll do the talking for you, if you want.” He gives an eager little nod, letting you lead the way.

You make your way to the shopping street easily. You hear Leviathan’s heels clicking on the stone path as you lead him into a little new comic shop that he’d been meaning to stop at for some time now, but had never gotten out of the house to do it. His eyes light up when he steps inside, immediately dragging you around the store to point out the different things he sees, from the décor reminiscent of some of his favorite series, to the new issues of the comics and manga he’s been reading. He finds himself at one of the bins of comics, walking his fingers across the tops of each issue in the bin, examining them to see if there’s anything in there that he doesn’t own yet.

While he’s doing that, you notice a trio of demons enter the comic shop and you immediately notice one of them looking at Leviathan, whose back is to them. You glance at Levi, put together easily that with his natural height plus the heels, he has to be bending over to look through the comic books, and you’re sure that neither him nor you want some random demon seeing up his skirt. You step between the demon and Levi, crossing your arms and just giving them a glare.

When the demon steps forward, you do to, intending to be far enough from Levi that he can’t hear what you say. The demon thankfully doesn’t try to sidestep you to get to him. When you both meet in the middle of your paths, they point past you at Levi.

“That your friend?” They say. They look like they’re about to talk more when you cut them off,

“My girlfriend, actually.” You school your expression into something stern. You’re not looking for a fight or an argument, but you want to put a stop to this right here. Luckily, the demon gets what you’re saying, mumbles an apology, and stumbles back off to meet back up with their friends somewhere else in the shop. By the time you spin back around, Leviathan has picked a book and is leaned back against the table with the bins, holding the book to his chest and looking like a girl straight out of an anime.

With a couple easy strides to him, you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

“Is this all you want?” Your hands carefully take the comic from him, looking at the cover. For a second, you’re worried that having seen that interaction between you and the demon could have soured the mood and made him uncomfortable, but instead, he responds,

“Heheh… You protected me from that guy like I’m some kind of love interest~” He sang with a shy, dopey kind of smile.

“You are my love interest, silly.” You chuckle, walking with him over to the counter and buying the comic for him, handing him the little shopping bag once you’re done.

Once you’re outside the store, you’re holding Leviathan’s free hand in your own. You spend a little longer mostly popping in and out of different comic shops, manga stores, and game stores and letting Leviathan wander around. In the last game store you stop in, another group of demons is eyeing Leviathan up, but you just give them a stern look and it’s enough to shoo them off, thankfully. When you walk over to Leviathan, he’s found a game he wants, and he’s staring down at it in his hands, but you can’t help but notice that he’s a little spacey. His eyes are half lidded with his pupils blown, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his cheeks tinted pink.

“Levi? Baby girl?” You hum, tugging on his sleeve. He shivers at the name.

“Ah,” He looks at you, and you easily recognize exactly what he’s feeling. “I- Their envy, they’re so jealous, I can feel their envy.” He purrs. “They wanna be you, they wanna be me, but- but we’re us and-“ He drops his head against your shoulder, “And I’m yours and only yours.”

You can hear the smile in his voice. Lifting your hand, you pet the back of his head.

“You’re mine, baby,” You keep your voice low, so only you and him can hear it, “But if you get hard, your skirt won’t do a good job of hiding it.”

That has him yelping and pulling away from you straightening back up to his full height with a burning blush across his cheeks.  He only flushes redder at your mischievous smile.

“Or would you like that?” You ask. He fervently shakes his head, not trusting his mouth to speak. “Aw, what, you don’t want to show everybody what a good girl you are? How needy you are for me?”

“Nnno! No, MC, come on,” His hands grab the edge of his skirt’s hem at the front, holding and pulling it down. “Don’t make me think about- about that, please, don’t make me think about that!” Levi’s voice is hardly a whisper as he’s hunched over, looking up at you through teary eyes. He looks absolutely desperate.

“Alright, baby girl,” You give him a quick kiss and go and buy the game, leaving him standing there for a minute and hoping that he’ll manage to calm himself down a little, before returning slipping the game into his bag with his comic book. “You want to go grab something to eat?”

“U-uh, yeah, yeah sure.” He takes your hand again- his hand is so warm- and lets you lead him around to your next stop.

Getting a table at the café is fairly easy. It isn’t too crowded, but there are certainly enough people there to make the atmosphere nice and lively. Once you’re seated, you look up at Levi. Oddly enough, he looks a lot less anxious than he has on past outings. Though, every time he spots you looking at him, he blushes and looks away with a cute little smile on his face. You take his hand above the table and press a kiss to his knuckles, your lips soft against his skin,

“I have the prettiest girlfriend,” You sing. Levi’s cheeks take on a deep pink, and he looks around the café. As the seconds pass, you note that he’s slipping back into that turned on, spaced out kind of look again. “Oh? Levi,” Your thumb strokes across his knuckles, “You feeling how much all those demons wish they were in my spot? How much they want you?”

As you speak in a low voice, you stroke the inside of his calf with the toe of your shoe and he jumps so hard his knees bang against the underside of the table. You notice his free hand drift down between his legs and you give him a knowing smile.

“Y-you- you have to stop talking about that! I won’t, hnn, I won’t be able to stop myself from getting hard in my-“ His voice drops to a muted whisper, “in my panties…”

“Oh, so you do remember what I said earlier.” You smirk at Levi, who looks like he’s about to pass out. Luckily for him, by the time the waitress comes around to get your order, Leviathan’s managed to get himself under control, and both his hands have returned to rest on top of the table, one in yours.

“Hi! What can I get the two of you?” The waitress gives a sunny smile and you look up at her,

“I’ll take the short cake and…” Glancing at Levi, he’s giving you a docile, submissive smile so you go ahead, “And she’ll have the crepe.”

“Alright, one shortcake and one crepe, coming right up,” The waitress heads off to the kitchen and you turn back to Levi who’s got hearts in his eyes. You know that if he were in his demon form, his tail would be doing that cute little wiggle that it’s prone to do when he’s happy.

“I saw you looking at the picture, looks like something right out of a manga so I knew you’d like it.” You say, an innocent smile on your face as your foot resumes its teasing and he lets out a petulant whine, his hand reaching down to bat your foot away, and with a chuckle you resign to his wishes.

While you wait for the food to come out, you ask him about the new things he got, and let him explain them. His face is lit up the whole time, a big smile across his lips and eagerness in his eyes. He almost doesn’t notice when the waitress sets the food in front of you until you look at his crepe and nudge it closer to him. With a little ‘oh!’ he slips his game back into its bag and pulls the stand closer to him. It’s a Japanese style crepe, one that’s rolled into a cone and filled with cute little fruits and toppings. As he’s marveling at it, you can’t help but take out your D.D.D,

“Hey, baby girl,” You call softly, getting his attention and showing him that you want to take a photo. He gives you a peace sign and an adorable grin, and you snap the photo, immediately putting it into your password locked folder. Immediately after, you take your fork and scoop off a little piece of shortcake, extending your arm and offering to Levi.

The fingertips of his free hand loosely rests against your wrist for stability as he takes the fork past his sharp teeth and onto his forked tongue.

“Mm! That’s good!” He grins, pushing his crepe to you so you can try a little bit. You both continue that way, essentially splitting the desserts until you’re done. Once you are, you pay the check and head out.

“I’ve got one more place I wanna stop.” You say, checking the time. Even including the place you’re thinking of, you should be able to get through there and back to the House before any of Leviathan’s brothers are out and about. The thought of being caught doesn’t even cross his mind. He’s put all his trust into your planning and ideas, and he just nods, ready to go along with your plan. You turn off the main street, going onto one of the side ones. It’s still populated with shops, though it’s a little less crowded.

Leviathan allows himself to be pulled along with you, slowly swinging his arm back and forth as he holds your hand. He’s so preoccupied with the euphoria of being your pretty date and being out and about without being anxious and holding your hand-

He doesn’t notice where you’ve wound up until you tug his arm a little, telling him to look up.

His eyes first catch on the mannequins in the front of the store, in a display behind the glass. Then he notices what they’re wearing. Cute, frilly, lacy lingerie decorates each of the mannequins, draping and hugging across their bodies. His whole face goes red and you giggle.

“I wanna buy my baby girl something pretty,” You step in front of him and loosely wrap your hands around his waist, “But if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to go in.”

Again, just as when you’d given him the lingerie, he mulls it over in his head, rolling his words around in his mouth over his tongue and seeing how they feel, eyes scouring across the display mannequins before finally giving a shy little nod and squeezing your hand a little. With a pleased smile, you slowly lead him into the store.

The inside of the store is pretty dark, and it’s reasonably high end, but not so much so that employees would bombard the two of you to try to get your sizes or overwhelm Levi or anything of the sort. The workers who do come to help, you easily dismiss with a “we’re fine, thank you,” and you let Leviathan explore the store, with you tagging along behind him.

He skims past a lot of the more reveling lingerie, walking through the shop before eventually landing on a display filled with babydolls. The top is lacy and white, then sheer panels of fabric cover the midsection of the mannequin, with the bottoms being a lacy pair of panties. The one that���s caught Leviathan’s eye seems to be one of the more simple ones. Your arm rests gently across the small of his back as you observe what he’s looking at.

“That one seem good?” You ask. “I think you’d look so good in that.” You look and take up one that would fit him, holding it up to his body. “It’s so nice and light, all the hickeys and bites I leave on you would show up so nicely underneath it.”

Leviathan gives a heavy shiver at your purring, voice nodding,

“Y- yes, this one.” The idea of being marked up by you has him using every inch of his willpower to not get hard in his panties. “I wanna wear this one for you.”

“Wonderful, I’ll get this one for you, then!” You say with a grin that looks far too innocent for Leviathan’s liking. You skip over to the check out counter. While you’re handling that, Leviathan is looking around the store. Contrary to what he’d expected, nobody is giving him any strange looks or anything, mostly just going about their own business without so much as a glance in his direction. You return and- for the sake of Leviathan’s dignity- slide the new lingerie into his bag with the other things he got, rather than using one of the pretty, recognizable bags from the store.

You finally start to make your way towards the House, timing it so that you’ll make it there before anyone else is moving about the house. The second Leve crosses the boundary of the House’s entryway, you can visibly see his nervousness start to creep back into his body. Ushering him quickly into your room, you shut the door behind you and see him relax with a deep sigh.

“Hah, we made it,” He says, relieved. Looking around the room, he delicately takes the wig off and sets it on the desk you have. “I was getting a little warm in that but the rest of this is surprisingly comfortable!” He gives you a cute little twirl. “I was worried I’d start to hate it halfway through.”

The way your eyes track his hips- dipping under his skirt to catch a glimpse of his ass covered by his panties when he gives a twirl- does not go unnoticed by him. The second his eyes follow to see where yours are looking, his hands fly down to hold the hem of his skirt down with a scandalized gasp.

“You’re such a perv!” He barks, though you can hear the amused tones of his laughter underneath his words. His face is a heated pink, but he’s still got a shy smile on his lips. You set your own bag down and approach Leviathan, grabbing onto his hips and pulling him close to you.

“I’m sure I’m allowed to be a bit pervy when I’ve got such a cute girl on my hands.” One of your hands slips back and gives his ass a squeeze, eliciting a sharp yelp from him.

“W-we’re back home, you don’t, y’know, you don’t have to keep calling me that.” His brow is creased and he looks away as he speaks. You tilt your head, putting on a false face of innocent confusion.

“Hm? But I thought you liked it?” You say sweetly, then dropping your voice back down to a knowing, teasing purr, “I know you liked it an awful lot when we were outside, and now that we’re in private, I wanna see you get hard in your pretty little panties.” You smooth your hand over the round curve of his ass, giving it another squeeze. Your hand slips under his skirt, coming to his front and down to his panties. You stroke the pads of your fingers against his vent, just slowly stroking across the slit.

“Aahn-“ Levi offers up a shivery and a shaky moan as you feel his cocks emerge against your hand. You push your into his panties, slipping your middle finger against one side of his vent and your ring finger against the other so you can feel every ridge of his cocks being slipped out of his slit. You also feel the extreme amounts of the slick fluid that comes with, it’s absolutely soaking his panties and he gasps and squeezes his legs together as he feels the lubricant drip down along the inside of his thighs.

“Here,” You take the hem of his skirt and push it into his hands, “Hold this.” Before he can get a word in, you step back and snap a photo of him holding up his skirt, his upper cock tenting his panties while the other hangs out through one of the leg holes. You immediately put that photo into your password locked folder with the other picture you’d taken today.

“Pervert!” He yelps once he realizes, immediately pushing his skirt down and making the tent in it obvious.

“Aw, Levi,” You step back forward and kiss his neck softly, hardly just a press of your lips to the sensitive, heated skin, “I’m the only one who will ever see it, this lovely view is only for me. But if you really want, I’ll delete it.”

“Nnn-“ He squirms underneath your adoring touch, “No, you- uh, you can keep it.” He feels you smile against his neck.

“Good,” You kiss there, “My good girl,” A little nip makes him jolt, “My beautiful baby girl.” Your hand dips back down to his cocks. You go past his lengths, just beneath them, your middle finger nudging at the bottom of his vent. He jumps a bit.

You’ve experimented with this little place before. Event after he’s become erect and his cocks have come out of his vent, you’ve found that you can put your finger into his vent. It’s sensitive, and it always brings Leviathan to his climax incredibly quickly and it always humiliated Leviathan. Even so, he tilts his hips forward to allow your access to that little channel.

You slide your middle finger past the lips of his vent, into his channel and he immediately whines, legs shaking and knees threatening to buckle. His hands immediately fly up to grab onto your arms, burying his face in your shoulder. His entire body quivers with the effort of keeping himself standing and still as you ease in your finger to the second knuckle, stroking along his slick inner walls.

“S-So much! Ahhh!” He sobs into your shoulder as you push your finger in to the last knuckle. You feel him start to shakily mouth at and kiss your neck, desperate for something to keep his mouth occupied and prevent him from saying thing that would embarrass himself. “Close, so close,” He murmurs between kisses. Your hand strokes the back of his head and your finger inside him gently rubs his channel’s walls. He shudders, his grip on you tightening as he sobs into your skin. You suddenly feel his teeth against your skin as he bites down on you, his channel quivering around you while his cocks throb and absolutely soak the inside of his skirt with cum. He moans again and again, his sounds eventually petering off into whining cries before you finally allow him some respite and withdraw your hand.

“So cute, my good girl,” You let him pull back from you, big eyes filled with tears that have ruined his make up. He gives a little sniffle, looking away and then down at his skirt, so saturated with his cum that it’s sticking to his still erect cocks. “Do you want something in your pussy?” You ask as you slip your clean hand back to his ass and grope it. Leviathan yelps and jumps a bit, looking at you past his smudged mascara and eyeliner, giving you a shaky nod and sigh.

Fiddling with his hands, he approaches the bed and bends over, presenting his ass to you and reaching behind him to lift his skirt. Under his skirt, you see his ass hidden by the panties spread across him. Between his legs you see his cocks, both by now having slipped out through the leg hole of the flimsy underwear, cum dribbling down the inside of his thighs and dirtying the tops of his thigh high socks.  His skin is flushed, and past his hips you can see him turned to look over his shoulder at you, his eyes brimming with tears still and his face a bright, shameful red. You rush to remove your pants and underwear and put on your strap on, wanting nothing more than to see him screaming under you.

“H-Hurry up and- uh- come fill my pussy! Please?” He says, unsure of what he’s really even saying. You hide your amused smile as you secure the large, girthy toy on your strap on and approach him. You roughly grab a handful of his ass the second you’re within range to do so. Your fingers and nails dig into the soft flesh and he cries out.

“You want me to fill up your pussy? What a cute little thing,” You tug his panties down, “I didn’t think a pretty little girl would be making such slutty requests.” His pink little hole tightens around nothing and his cocks throb untouched between his legs at your words. He sobs and more tears roll down his cheeks.

“F-fuck me, Mistress! I need you to fuck me, please,” His voice trembles with his request, “I’ve been so- so needy all day, all day when I was out with you, I kept just thinking of this, please!”

“All day?” You purr, slicking your strap up with lubricant and lining it up with his fluttering hole, “You want it like this? No stretching? I’m sure your depraved little hole could take it, hm?” He just nods, lips drawn tightly shut but moans and whines still leaving his throat as he gently pushes his hips back, feeling the round head of your strap nudge at his hole but never quite breach it.

“All day, Mistress,” He mewls, “Every time some- somebody was jealous of us- I almost couldn’t stop the f-feeling. Even just thinking about it, I- hhhnn,” With a heavy shudder, his demon form overtakes him and his tail wraps possessively around your waist. Neediness and lust roil inside him as he rocks his hips back in the most lewd display you’ve ever seen him put on.

“Take it like the slut you are, then.”

With that, you surge your hips forward and sheath your strap inside him with a single shove. The reaction you get from your beautiful baby is priceless.

Leviathan screams a sound like he’s dying as his back arches like it’ll break and he throws his head back. His tail squeezes around you and his cocks throb, cum pouring out of him again as he hits his second orgasm for the night, hole spasming around the sudden intrusion and the pain of the stretch. One of his hands grabs the bed sheets while the other flies back to grab the wrist of your hand on his hip, squeezing tightly to ground himself to you. Your other hand reaches under him to stroke him through his orgasm.

“Pretty baby girl, your pussy’s so tight around me.” You hum, not even sure if he can hear you over his own yowling. Your hips give slow grinds as you work him through his climax, until he finally slumps down, limbless on the bed and panting hard.

“M-more,” His worn voice croaks. “Need more, Mistress, I have- have more to give, still need to cum more.” Despite his tired state, he still tries to hump back against you, body still jolting against his will in the aftershocks and sensitivity of his last climax. You press your hips flush against his before pulling back and beginning to fuck him in earnest.

“Maybe I should get a toy to plug that slutty mouth up,” You grab onto a horn and pull his head back while you lean forward and nuzzle into his neck, feeling him tense, “Maybe I’ll shove a nice, long toy down your throat? Watch it bulge. What a slut.” With that, your hand slips from his horn down to around his neck, gently holding it against his throat. You feel him swallow, and the vibrations of his voice as he groans hotly at the idea.

“N-not a slut,” He whimpers, looking down at the mattress as more tears fall from his eyes, “’M only yours, just yours.” His head is spinning with the pleasure he’s feeling, and you know that he’s past the point of overtly trying to say anything sexy, that he’s now just broken into speaking whatever comes across his mind.

“Oh, oh, baby.” Your hand releases his throat and strokes down the soft length of his back, coming to grab his ass again, “You are just mine.” A shiver runs through his body at that declaration.

“Just yours, just yours, only yours,” He chants, babbling whatever crosses his fucked out brain. “Filling up my pussy so- so good!” His words are interrupted by hitching breaths and sobs. You know exactly what he wants, you decide to humor him. You lean down and press your front to his back, one of your arms looping around his chest and holding you to him. The contact of his heated skin against yours make him whine.

“My good girl, such a pretty thing, your pussy’s so tight around me. You wanna cum again?” Your other hand jerks him off, “Cum again for me, baby girl, you deserve it, you did so well today.” He nods fervently.

Levi’s body shudders before tensing against you and wailing a garbled version of your name as he cums for the third time, body oversensitive and every nerve feeling like a livewire, but he wants nothing more than to please you and feel that same pleasure coursing through his own body. He’s long since run out of energy, body now just twitching involuntarily with each spurt of cum onto the bed. When he’s finally done, his whole frame goes limp and once you pull out and let go of him, he flops over onto his side.

“So good for me,” You kiss his jaw, then his cheek as you take off your strap, “Beautiful, you make such nice sounds and I love you so much.” You allow whatever you’re thinking to fall from your lips while your hands idly, slowly pet Leviathan’s body, just to make sure he knows- even through his blissed out mind- that you’re there. He can only make himself whine in response, just a soft pitiful noise to alert you that he’d heard you.

“When you’re good and ready we can get you cleaned up.” You refer to his messed up make up and cum soaked clothes. “I’m so happy that you enjoyed this, baby, I love you so much, I really hope I made this good for you.”

“So good.” He squeaks. You smile against his skin. Cleaning his skin and clothes and the bed sheets would come later. For now, all that matters is keeping Leviathan happy, and easing him back down. For now, you hold him against you until he comes back to his body enough to wrap his arms around you and purr, that lovely little sound that you’re so enamored by.

When he’s a tad more coherent, you start removing his clothes and setting them aside, immediately noting that with his coherency returning, his self consciousness does as well. You plant a little kiss to his bare shoulder,

“You’re beautiful even without the clothes and make up, Levi.” You say. He can’t quite wrangle the words to say, instead looking away from you with flushed cheeks. “I’ll make sure you know that.”

“…Promise?” His big orange eyes look up at you. You smile down at him,

“Promise, baby.”

[thesmokingguns]

Picnic in the Park

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader

Word Count: 2128

Fluff

Request Summary: “Axl rose meets a girl threw slash who is his childhood friend whos also an amazing painter and just is infatuated with how pretty she is and he just follows her around like a puppy.Tan skin brown hair that goes to lower back brown eyes, wears alot of cute sun dresses and is very kind”

A/N: I am catching up on requests. So if you have requested anything in the past week or so thag oiece should be coming out soon. Thanks everyone for reading

Tag list: @ayablackwood @agroupiewhore @thenobodies-inc @littlemisscare-all

Your mind was a mixture of light and dark, complimentary colors, and images burned into your mind that you wanted to paint later. If there wasn’t a brush in your hand you were taking notes with a pencil, sketching the world around it through eyes that only you saw it from. You captured everyday life like the older woman with the mesh bag she had filled with fruit or the man with his red beard, a few weeks unkept, napping in the alley to get a break from the heat. You took these people, characters of the world and had them live forever on the canvas you painted on.

Art was your passion. You loved walking around Hollywood with a set of watercolors or a notebook to sketch in and take in the lives of others. There was some sort of poetic feeling of taking a stranger from the street and importilizing them as a character in your art. You created a narrative for them that they may not be living. It was cathartic and you’d spend hours of your day people watching until you finally found the right subject.

Sketching out a bump on someone's nose that might have come from a childhood accident or from their Freshman year of college when they drunkenly fell down the front steps of the dorm, you created their unknown life story as you placed each line of their face into place. If you didn’t infuse their story into the piece it was just some colorful person without any meaning. But you wanted to give the viewer of your art a full piece. They should be able to look at your picture and understand the life that the subject lived; your art created that life.

It was crazy to think that a few years before you were in school thinking about becoming an English teacher.It was a chance meeting at a grocery store when you ran into your old friend Saul’s mother. When you had been kids the pair of you had been so close and secretly your mothers had both had fingers crossed for a wedding that never happened. The pair of you split apart the summer after senior year to set out of a life you each wanted. His mother had invited you over for dinner, which she also invited her son to, thrusting the pair of you back into each other's lives.

Oddly enough, it was like time hadn’t passed between you. The easiness of your friendship coming back without even trying and soon the pair of you were hanging out on almost a daily basis. With your schedule up helped manage his house, buying groceries, doing some cleaning, and running a few errands he never remembered. In return you had a few rooms to yourself. Slash had wanted to make sure you had time for your art as well as a space for it.

Dressing in a white floral pattern sundress you grabbed your bag that contained your art supplies. You wanted to get to the park early and set up a blanket you could spend the day sketching and painting on. You planned to soak up the sun in your skin and use the good lighting to get some new work to sell for the craft fair this weekend. As you turned to grab the picnic foods you had made the night before you saw Axl sitting at the counter. His green eyes looked up, smiling when he saw you.

“Hey, Y/N. Slash just left. I’m going to leave in a minute. I was just finishing up some lyrics.” he was always over and you thought that he was lonely in his role as lead singer. Even though Axl put on this tough guy imagine and had a reputation it was like he needed to work for that because he thought that was what rock stars were supposed to do. Whenever he was around you he seemed lost, always making extra conversation or taking the time to go walk to the coffee cafe with you and wait in line, even if he didn't want anything.

“I’m heading out for a day in the park.” you told him, moving the wax paper covered sandwiches into a small wicker basket, along with some fruit and cheese, some water, and a bottle of wine. You could feel his eyes on you, “I’m over packing and have more than enough if you want to come with me?” you let your eyes flutter up from packing the basket to look at him. “I’ll leave you alone to write because I’m just going to spend the time working on some new portraits.” It was important to you that you set up expectations. There was no need for him to feel like he was going there to entertain you or vice versa.

“I’d love to go. You don’t mind?” he asked as you finished packing up the wicker basket. You shook your head no, letting him pick up the food you had just packaged and leading you outside, “What park did you want to go to? I can drive us there.” you told him what you were thinking, getting comfortable in the convertible.

When you had moved in with Slash you had forged fast friendships with his bandmates. Even though you weren’t at every show and didn't always go backstage you had gotten close to them in different ways. On Wednesday nights you hosted a dinner party where you made them all come by so you had an excuse to cook for them. When someone had a ripped piece of clothing at a show you’d quietly take out your sewing kit, stitching patches in jeans and repairing favorite band shirts. You liked being around them all because of how animated everyone was; they were so easy to draw. You had a whole sketchbook of black and white images from the band. Your favorite subjects were Slash and Axl, mainly because they were the two you were around the most and had the most flexibility when it came to moods.

Axl had grown close to you, drawn into the caring nature you had. It was hard for him to understand that someone would do things for him without expecting anything in return. The first time that you had been out drinking with them and insisted Axl came home with you so you knew he was safe he had thought was a come on. When you helped him drink water and gave him aspirin before tucking him into bed he was shocked. Even more shocking was waking up to find his clothes washed and folded on the guest room chair and you carrying in a breakfast tray of freshly made foods. That’s just how you showed you cared about your friends. Being the mother of the group and taking care of them helped you feel like you were contributing as a friend.

Spreading out the blanket under the Weeping Willow tree. You motioned for Axl to sit as you toed off your sandals and moved to sit down. Digging through your bag you set out your sketch pad and pencils. You could see Axl out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t seem to know what to do. You pulled him down to the blanket, settling him so he could rest his back against the tree. You pulled off his shoes and socks and handed him his notebook as you went about unpacking your picnic so he could pick at food if he wanted to.

With him settled in the shade you laid down, belly first in the sun. Picking up your pencil you scanned the park until you found an older man feeding the pigeons. Your eyes followed his movements for a few minutes before you started your sketch. The feeling of the warm sun on the back of your thighs as you twirled the pencil in your hand, capturing all the features of the man.

As you drew you could feel Axl’s eyes on you. At first it was just light glances every few minutes and then it turned to heavy long looks where his eyes were watching you. Ignoring the way his stares made you blush, chalking up the pinkness in your cheeks as just sun exposure.

A hand slid over your calf, over the back of your thighs before going over your dress and laying on the flat of your back. You turned your face upward looking at Axl watching you. His eyes flickering from your art up to your face. There was a pause, curiosity and interest in what he was going to do next. Your heart is beating in your chest even though your body is frozen, wondering what he was up to.

“Do you want to take a break and eat? You’ve been working for a couple hours.” Looking past him you saw the sun had changed position in the sky and time had gotten away from you. Sitting up you handed out sandwiches, positioning yourself comfortably besides him in the shade of the tree.

Axl had been following you for most of the spring and now into summer. He's around all the time and often comes along for days like this. But you liked having him around. You thought that he needed the quiet comfortable silence between the pair of you; so much of his life was filled with noise.

“Y/N, do you like this?” He asked, peeling off the crust to his sandwich. The action seemed to be more of a need to keep his hands busy instead of a dislike for the bed.

“Do I like this? Picnics in the park?” You didn’t know exactly what he meant. Axl sometimes seemed to talk in riddles not wanting to fully play all of his cards.

“Being with me.” He didn’t look up to meet your eyes at this, almost embarrassed to be talking about it. You weren’t like Axl. There was no need to talk in riddles or have him guessing how you felt.

“Of course I like having you around, Axl. It’s nice to be able to spend time with someone I like.” He looked up, almost surprised that someone would like to be around him. “I’ve had a crush on you for a few months and it’s nice to get to know you more and find more reasons to like you.” You didn’t feel nervous telling him this. It actually felt like a relief to get it off your chest.

He put down his sandwich, wiping crumbs off on his shirt and looking at his hands to make sure that they were clean. Before you could figure out what he was going to do he had a hand in your hair, tugging you closer to him in a soft kiss. For months you had been thinking about what it would be like to kiss him on one of your lazy afternoons together and now it was happening.

Instead of letting him pull away and think about what he had just done you slid onto his lap, letting your hands wrap around him. His free hand was on your back holding you close as the pair of you made out like teenagers under the shade of the willow tree.

Finally, the pair of you pulled away, swollen plush lips and wild curious eyes watching each other. This new change between the pair of you sparkling like wonder between the pair of you. Axl was playing with a piece of your hair, wrapping the brown lock around his finger like he had been wanting to do for months.

“Does this mean we can finally start dating?” You asked, watching the way he smirked at this question. “Because I don’t know how many more times you can just casually show up without Slash catching on. And I don’t know how many more picnics I can plan without touching you.” You admitted, his lips were on your chin and up your jaw.

“Mhhh, I’ve been waiting for this for so long and now I can have you all to myself.” His voice whispered huskily to you kissing your earlobe. He pulled away to look at you again. “You have to tell Slash.” He said, making you laugh as you rolled your eyes. If that’s what it would take to have Axl you didn’t mind telling your best friend about the relationship.

“You take care of me and I’ll take care of everything else, babe.” You promised, meaning it. This was everything that you had wanted for months and now you were getting it. The man that you had started falling for was yours. It had only taken months worth of picnics to get him.

[mellowyandere]

SCP Academia Eraserhead Part 2

Reader: F

Characters: Aizawa Shouta (main); Kurogiri

Summary: After struggling to find his way out with Dr. L/N, Eraserhead is offered some help. (This turned into a lot more exposition than expected. Part 3 will get steamy though I promise! I’m just a hoe for setting the stage.)

Length: 1442 words

Warning: Yandere-themes.

He had been running for a while now. Hallways and corridors bleeding into one another in a way that turned his head upside down. He hadn’t had to open any doors so far, and a strange absence of security set off little alarms in the back of his head.

Left…no right? He snarled in frustration. Curse this stupid foundation. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy but this was simply ridiculous. He peered down at your unconscious form, nestled protectively against his chest in a layer of his tendrils. So small and weak... he had to keep pushing forwards.

He had been forced to kill a couple of SCP’s along the way, not all being as sentient and rational as himself. Their desire to kill you forfeiting their rights to life.

Shit. Another dead end.

Something cleared their throat behind him, causing him to spin on his heel. His tendrils flared out ready to cut down whatever it was. To his surprise there stood what appeared to be a man made of mist, wearing human clothing. His sharp attire strongly contrasted his own, which consisted of an orange jumpsuit, the top half having been torn to shreds when he unleashed his tendrils, and a pair of standard issued boots.

“Move out the way. Don’t make me hurt you.” He didn’t have time for this, who knew when security would appear to regain control of the breach.

The mist man raised his hands to show his non-hostility. “You look a bit lost… would you like some help leaving this place?”

Eraserhead narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why would you help me?”

“Don’t you find it odd..” Ah great this might take a minute. If he wasn’t blocking off the hallway Eraserhead would have left by now, but the man in front of him didn’t look like someone he could simply side step.

“Beings such as ourselves don’t belong here. By all means humans are nothing more than fodder in comparison. And yet they contain us? They’re witty creatures with dangerous minds, it’s what gotten them this far. But so are we. This containment breach was no accident, I’m sure you’ve already noticed almost every enclosure open, save for the truly unhinged ones. And a complete lack of guards to corral you back to your prison. No, there are higher powers at play. But now isn’t the time to delve into that, so I’ll ask again… would you like some help leaving this place?”

The mist man finished his little speech and opened his arms, inviting Eraserhead forward.

“What’s the catch?” Eraserhead knew better. Nothing in this world was done from the kindness of one’s heart. Well, except for you. You were the only real kindness he had ever known.

The mist man chuckled. “I see you are a man of caution. Yes this exchange is not for free. We’ll be keeping tabs on you. Your intelligence and abilities make you a very strong creature indeed. One day we’ll need you to help free our kind from the shackles of humanity.”

Lowering his arms the man took on a more sinister aura. “Let it be known though, I don’t need your consent to teleport you. I’d choose my offer. After all that human in your arms looks so frail, she might not make it out here alive if you keep at it.”

Shit. This bastard wasn’t leaving him with much choice.. should he fight his way out? He wasn’t exactly sure what his opponents abilities were besides teleportation. Even if he erased them, can you punch a man made of mist? His clothes clung to him, but who knew his real body composition.

No. This man was too dangerous, and his threat towards your well-being still hung heavily in the air. “Alright. Deal.”

The mist mans nodded with a hum, satisfied with his answer. “Start with continent, State or province, then major nearby city. Small nearby towns if applicable.”

Eraserhead listed off what was asked of him. His goal was to bring you to his old self-isolation home. He used to live amongst humans with little to no problems. His larger than normal stature at 6’10” raised a few eyebrows but nothing too serious. He kept the dark markings along his torso covered, and a scarf helped to hide his deathly white complexion. As for the eyes, he always wore sunglasses.

His issue had arisen with the month of his “birth”. For as long as he could remember, during the month humans called November, he went absolutely feral. Losing all control over his himself he’d slaughter anything that crossed his path. He’d make sure to isolate before November came along, and for the most part it worked. He had lived many centuries alongside humans with only the occasional slip up.

Five years ago he slipped up. And the SCP foundation had been all over him ever since.

“I can’t get you to any of the nearby towns, but I can get you to the city,” the mist man stated. “Step forward, I’ll take you there now.”

With that the man began to spread out the mist that defined his body, pooling out until he filled the entirety of the corridor. Eraserhead stepped forward into the blackish purple abyss, his vision going dark. Squinting he tried to peer through the pitch black that surrounded him, until finally he could see again. Stars lit up the night sky above him, and the sound of cars echoed down far below. Stepping onto concrete he moved out of the portal. This creature had quite a powerful ability. 

“What you do from here is up to you. We’ll give you some time to adjust and then we’ll contact you. Do not think that you can hide from us.” With that the mist vanished and Eraserhead was left alone atop a tall building with you in his arms.

It would be about a half a day of running to get you home from here. Meaning it would be wise to stock up on supplies now. That way he wouldn’t have any reason to leave you alone for the next week or two as you adjusted to your new home. The tall creature checked you over, making sure you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon before leaving you on the rooftop. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but he’d move fast.

Jumping from building to building he made quick work of locating and snagging some clothes from a local donation box in order to change out of the tattered orange jumpsuit. One extra-large black long sleeve shirt and accompanying extra-large pair of blacks pants. Grabbing a few bags that had also been inside, he headed for the nearest chain supermarket. He’d stock up on essentials like food and nest making materials, as well as daintier things that you might like such as feminine soaps and fluffy stuffed animals.

Due to the limitations in his interactions with you he didn’t really know what you’d want, but he had the rest of your time together to learn.

He was going to prove to you that he was the best mate you could ever dream of having. No one else would ever be good enough for you. And no one else would ever be good enough for him with you now in his life. He had never encountered a human like you before, and he’d be damned if anyone ever dared try to take you away or hurt you.

Making quick work of the supermarket he dashed out as the alarms rang. It hardly mattered though, he wouldn’t be coming back to this city. He had enough money stashed away that he’d be able to buy what he needed from small towns as to not draw attention to himself. Despite what the mist man had said about a new world order, he didn’t want to chance the foundation getting back on its feet and finding him.

Quickly climbing the building he left you on he was relieved to see your small form still sound asleep on the cold concrete. He wrapped his tendrils around his new stash of goods and scooped you up in his arms yet again, taking a moment to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck and deeply inhaling your scent.

Even if he had to give up part of his freedom to get here, holding you in his arms had all been worth it. Now all he had to do was get you home, and then he’d make sure to repay every gesture of kindness you had ever shown him tenfold. His precious cute little human.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

I wrote this the other idea. And then a thought happened.

Enjoy.

Gender Neutral Reader Insert

_____________________

“I’m going to take you out.”

You hum in response, pulling at the last part of the cardboard box. The tape snaps, a soft pfft echoing. You bought new curtains for the kitchen. It was premature given that the curtains would only really go once the backsplash was done and the cabinets repainted. Your delay for both of those was Calum. Though you had painted cabinets before while helping a friend move into their place, Calum insisted that the two of you be the ones that redid the kitchen. Not just you.

The project inevitably got delayed. Calum dragged his feet on nonessential things and with things slowly moving back to normal, he was busier than ever with the band. So you understood--that took priority over cosmetic changes to the house. And you know that you couldn’t nag him into doing anything. So you poked him in a different way, buying the kitchen curtains that would only sort of match with the rest of the kitchen. It wouldn’t bother him at first. It would take a couple of weeks before he sighed, pulled out his old t-shirts and the sandpaper and paint that you had already bought.

Calum hums in your ear. “What do you say? We dressed up fancy too.” He punctuates the end of his sentence with a kiss on your neck.

“Fancy? And go where?”

“Oh, that’s for you to decide.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, but you don’t miss the way his arms snake around your torso.

“When did you want to go? This evening?”

“No,” he says and then drags his lips up your skin. “Right now.”

You chuckle, though the end of it is interrupted by a sigh, the tingles running down your spine. “There’s nowhere fancy to go in the middle of the afternoon. And why fancy?”

“Because you have that outfit in the back of the closet and I think it’s time to break it out.”

You originally bought it for your anniversary with Calum two years ago. But the pandemic through a major wrench into the plan. That one passed and so did another and you weren’t sure when you’d be able to wear it ever. But couldn’t return it because you adored it too much.

His lips are hardly touching your skin, but you feel electric. “You know, we could just make this easy,” you return, pushing your hips back into his. “Besides, you said you were waiting on a call.”

His teeth nip at your skin and the heat of his breathe trails up to your ear. It doesn’t shock you when his tongue teases the shell of your ear, but it does make a warmth spread through your stomach. “I can take the call anywhere.”

“Then take it from the bedroom.”

Calum laughs before pulling away completely. “Oh, I absolutely could. But I want to take you out. Because I know this week I’ve been holed up with writing and you deserve more of my time. And we’re dressing up. And you’re going to think of the place right now.”

Without the pressure of his weight holding you to the counter and the warmth of his kisses, you can think a bit clearer. Somewhere fancy to go in the middle of the afternoon felt insane. You turn, using the completely deconstructed box as a shield. “You’re a dangerous man when you wanna be,” you tease.

He smiles, a bit of a blush taking over his cheeks as he leans into the counter next to you. He makes a show of holding his arms to his chest. “I can behave. When I wanna.”

“When you want is so important. But I don’t feel like I’m getting less time. I know this record’s taking some extra TLC.”

“And my darlin’ deserves some TLC too. So c’mon. It can be anywhere. We’re just getting fancy is all I’m asking.”

“The only thing I can think of is a museum? Contemporary Art?”

Gently taking one of your hands, Calum presses a chaste kiss to the back of it. “I’d be honored. I’ll hang these curtains and then get ready.”

“Thank you. I’ll take Duke out.”

He nods and watches you, eyes taking in the length of you. “And I know the curtains are you trying to get me moving faster about the rest of the kitchen.”

“The only thing about the kitchen I want to hear is if it’s on fire or if you’re planning a day to remodel it.”

Calum shakes his head with a hiccup of laughter coming from him. Of course, you would. Of course. He grabs the stepstool you keep between the fridge. It’s not long before he gets the curtains switched out--thankfully the ones you bought fit on the rod already installed. The scratch of Duke’s paws coming closer to the kitchen alert Calum that you’ve gotten back inside.

“What if we do the cabinets on Saturday?” he asks, hearing the fridge crack open. He shakes out some of the creases in the last curtain.

“I’ll be disturbing you bright and early then.”

“Sounds lovely,” he returns, stretching up just a little to get the first part of the curtain onto the rod. Just as he steps down, a cup settles onto the counter in front of him. Water by the looks of it in the glass and then your feet shuffle down the hardwood floors.

You and Calum manage to get finished at about the same time getting dressed. But it doesn’t get past you that a few buttons on his dress shirt are not all the way done as he moves to pass you to grab shoes from the closet. “Sir, I don’t know what you’re playing, but those few buttons are playing with fire,” you tease getting the last of your outfit into place.

“Look who’s talking,” he laughs but steps back over to you. “Hmm, everyone warned me about you.”

“Warned you about me?” This is the first time you’re earring of anyone having a problem with you.

He nods. “They told me I’d fall in love.” The rapid rate of your heart starts to slow.

“Well, did you?”

“Do you not see me dressed to the nines just to take you out? I am whipped.”

Cupping his jaw, you press several chaste kisses to his lips. “Good. I ordered our tickets--so we don’t have to wait in any line.”

“Ah, I knew I found a good one. Thank you.”

“Uh-huh. You’re welcome.”

With Calum’s shoes on, and the tickets saved on your phone, the two of you head out. The drive to the museum feels much too short--between you belting out the songs on the radio and the laughter--you’re not even thinking about the fact that you’re about to head to an art museum dressed like you’d go to an award show with Calum. You hadn’t been to many of those, opting at the beginning of your relationship to hang back from that world.

“Why do this?” you ask softly right as the songs change. The radio host advertises something, you’re not sure what, but you can hear their voice excited as they talk.

Calum takes a brief second to glance at you. “What do you mean? I thought I answered that.”

“No, no, you did. But I don’t know. I’m just shocked.”

It goes silent for a moment. You hear the soft squeal of the tires and you know Calum should’ve taken his car to the shop a month ago, but again, he dragged his feet on some things. But you don’t think to say anything, not now at least.

“You mentioned it,” Calum starts, turning his gaze away from the red light. “When we first started dating, you mentioned that you wanted to get dressed up one day and just go somewhere--it didn’t matter where. But you wanted to go on a date and get fancy and go to a random place in the middle of the afternoon like it was a movie. And I thought and I thought and I even asked the guys where to take you but none of them knew. And then I had this whole plan for our anniversary to get dressed up and go the park. But I got scared and changed it to dinner because I didn’t want to ruin your fantasy. We have lists of them and we make them up all the time. But this one mattered.”

“They all matter. That’s why we create them, that’s why we write them down.”

“But this one mattered to you. There are plenty that we do together. But this one mattered specifically to you and I knew I couldn’t just give up on it.”

Your mouth hangs open for a second and then the car lurches forward, you fall back into the cushion of the seat just a hair but then regain your balance. “You told me once that you missed when you and your sister would sneak these biscuits after dinner. And your mother always knew you two were doing it. So I bought some and put them on the highest shelf. Because that’s where your stash is and I never wanted you to run out so every couple of weeks I do a second trip to the grocery store to buy them. And I’m not sure when you realized I was buying them because at one point there were two and three packages on that shelf, which I knew meant you didn’t know I was buying them. But now there’s only ever the package that I buy.”

“I’ve known for months now, love. I didn’t say anything but honestly, I liked it. But I will admit I’m shocked you didn’t stop once you realized it.”

“I kept doing it because I wanted to give you a tiny piece of home. It’s crazy I know. But I try.”

“I am home. With you.”

“I know, but like your childhood. The things that no one really knows but you and what you’ve decided to share with me. I want to bring that to you.”

“Baby, I-I don’t need that. I appreciate it. I know you feeding me until I become round is your love language but I am more than satisfied to create new things with you.”

“Your trainer cancels out all my attempts. You, sir, will keep your toned abs and biceps for at least another twenty years.”

“Only twenty?”

You laugh, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek. “Once you marry me, baby, you’re getting happy weight and I won’t stop.” The sentiment is punctuated with a pat to his stomach. The only thing Calum can do is laugh.

“I look forward to it.”

“Oh, so you agree, you are going to marry me?”

Calum never thought he’d get here. Not pulling into the parking lot of a museum with the love of his life, dressed in clothes he only really reserved for the stage, a heartbeat away from admitting, “Yes. I am agreeing that I am going to marry you.”

The moment lingers for a beat, then two and Calum’s heart is racing because this isn’t how he had planned on asking. Shit, he thought he’d need another six months before he’d have the guts to even admit it to the boys. But right now, it just feels so right to admit. Your arms are winding around his neck and he’s leaning as far as his still buckled seatbelt will allow him. And you’re kissing him and he’s inhaling your laughter. And somehow the most backward-ass things feel the best.

“You-I need to get you a ring. I was going to do this all differently,” Calum rushes out, holding onto your cheeks. His head shakes, eyes wide. “I swear I was going to do this all differently.”

Your smile is blurry in his vision. But he hears your laughter. “I don’t need it any other way.”

You wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Now, can we please go look at the pretty art with my soon-to-be husband on my arm?”

“Of course.”

The air of the museum is cold and it chills you for a second but it’s coupled with the fact that Calum’s thumb is stroking the back of your hand. The two of you glance at each other, wide grins and giggles falling from your lips. It’s a wonder, as the two of you stroll through the museum. You in front, gravitating towards the brighter works and Calum follows, your pinkies hooked together to keep you two from getting too separated from each other.

All he can do is stare, watch you and your ever-shifting gaze. You float over the floor of the museum as if your feet could never really fully touch the ground. And he’s powerless to it, the following the visible string pulling him to you. At your pause, Calum slides up behind you. His hands settle at your hips first briefly before he catches himself. “Yes, Cal?”

“Nothing.”

You cock your head to the side and then ever so slightly push back against his hips. “Just as I suspected. A lot of something. Approximately several inches in length.”

Calum barely holds the howl of his laughter in before spinning you around. “Do not ever--”

“Or what?” you ask.

“You know I’m not going ever taking you out in public again.”

You take a glance to the left and right, before slipping your hand between your bodies. You palm his length through his dress pants. “Oh what a shame,” you state and then step away to a sculpture.

Calum exhales hard at the action and takes a moment to steel himself before following after you. The teasing continues on back and forth, him passing in front of you and feeling you over the material of your clothes, gently brushing his hands on the back of your neck.

Calum moves to another room and you watch him go for a minute before following behind him. The shivers of his still nibbles on his ears rocked you more than you anticipated. Sliding up behind him, you encase your arms around his torso. “You sir, are just begging for us to get kicked out.”

His small chuckle is interrupted by the buzz of his phone. Calum reaches into his pocket and sees the numbers. He glances around and slides to answer the call. “Calum speaking,” he whispers. You step away and point out a sign pointing to some restrooms. Calum smiles at you, kissing your forehead, and then heads over that way.

You wait in the same area, not wanting to go too far in case the call is quick. You take your time looking at each piece in the room. It feels long but then you can hear the clack of dress shoes on the floor and turn to the sound of it. Calum returns, his face a little pensive.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just--uh.”

“We can go if you need to. Is it work?”

“It’s just bullshit. Something bout a demo needing to be recorded. And I don’t--this is important to you. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“One more room and then we can go back home.”

He takes your hands. “If we do one more room, I won’t have time to take you back home. I’m sorry.”

“Well, our fridge magnet collection needs another one. And I don’t mind if you have to drive to the studio and then I’ll take an Uber or something back home.”

“Or you could stay with me?”

“I’m not about to make life harder. C’mon. We got a fridge magnet to obtain.”

The gift shop is hardly busy. Calum takes a second to text the guys that he’ll be over to the studio soon. It’s not hard for you to pick a magnet. But you look at the postcards, all the colors. “Grab a handful, love. I see you eyeing them.”

You pick up a few and then head to the register. Calum seems to be distracted by something, but you don’t think too much of it as you pay. Especially since he seems to slide up right behind you. At the front of the shop, Calum warns it’ll be a bit of a drive so you scurry to the restroom.

The sun’s brighter than you anticipated and you squint against the sun as you walk back out into the parking lot. As you slide into the truck, you toss the magnet and card onto the back seats, on the blanket Duke lays on. And then another small bag lands on your lap. “What’s this?”

Calum says nothing as he buckles in.

“Oh don’t get all silent on me. Don’t you fucking dare.” You turn the back upside down and a box lands into your lap. Your heart races and then you realize it’s too small to be a ring box though it could be the right size. “Calum,” you sigh and crack it open. A small enamel pin stares back up at you. You laugh.

“You got me good that time.”

“I’ll do one better when it’s an actual ring.”

“I like gold,” you tell him, taking his hand gently and kisses the back of it.

“Trust, I am well aware.”

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

It’s Just a Movie: Part 11 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter  Next Chapter ->

Warnings: cursing, angst

Word Count: 2016

You stared at him. You couldn't believe the words that had come out of his mouth, and you didn't think before the next words left yours.

"I can't." You said, and each of the boys looked at you. Confusion, hurt, anger, and even a tad bit of disappointment filled their eyes. They stared, and you couldn't help but waver under the weight of all of their gazes. Before they could interrupt, you tried to explain. "I-I mean, we don't know how long I'll be here. It's what, November? The Emerson's don't come until the summer and-" But David's voice was cruel as he cut in.

"What, you have plans to go somewhere else?" He asked, and it sent you into a whole new bundle of nerves. His eyes were hard, and, when you looked at the two blondes closest to you, you saw anger etched into Markos face and betrayal etched into Pauls. You hadn't meant it like that. It's not like you were intending on leaving, and you quickly told them so.

"I'm not trying to leave, per se, but I didn't try to end up here either. I'm saying that I might end up slipping back into my world without realizing." You said, but you couldn't help the way your voice stammered and shook under David's glare. It was a good plan, at least, so far. But this issue wasn't something you could control, and you didn't like the way David seemed to be acting like it was.

"Oh, so if you're not here tomorrow, don't be surprised?" He mocked, and you made a noise of protest. You didn't know why he was taking this so personally. You knew that you shouldn't have let your temper get the best of you. That, if you were calm and collected, you'd fare much better when it came to arguing with the boys. It was something you'd learned and practiced over the past two weeks, but, your anger at his accusation blinded you.

"No, I'm not saying that I'm going to leave." You protested, your voice raising a pitch. You looked at the others, adding, "I'm not trying to leave." In your own defense. Paul's face softened, but Marko still looked on edge. Like you'd disappear any second you chose to. The only one who's face was completely unreadable was Dwayne's. Though, he wasn't looking at you. He was watching David instead. David crossed his arms over his chest, saying a simple,

"So, you'll do it?" He asked, and you wanted to throttle him. You swore that the boy could be completely intolerable when he wanted to be. He had gotten you riled up, and you shouted.

"No! I'm not saying that either. I don't know!" You shouted, and you let out a noise of frustration. But David continued, leaning forward in his seat.

"Why not? Do you not want to stay?" He pestered, and you gave him a glare. You knew his games, and you knew him. When it came to getting what he wanted, he was a master manipulator. An outright 'no' would never work, and you guessed that he wasn't afraid of this getting nasty. Even if you now knew that the boys needed you. Or, at least, David thought you did. Your sudden confidence in that made you yell,

"No- It's- I have to go home sometime, David! And that's- that's seven months away, at least. That's a long time-" You said, but you realized how silly the concept seemed to them when Paul muttered,

"It's not that long." And your head snapped to him. You couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth, let alone the suggestion coming out of David's.

"My friends, my family- they have no idea where I am or what happened to me! I'm not supposed to be here! I can't just- I can't just disappear from their lives forever. From my life forever. That's- that's cruel-" But David was able to cut you off and silence you with a single sentence.

"And leaving us to die isn't?" He said. His voice was as cold as ice, and it made you gulp the second your eyes flicked back to his. He was staring at you, his eyes staring daggers at you and his jaw clenched. He was pissed. Royally. You looked away, trying to think of a way to argue that without sounding completely heartless. You didn't want them to die, especially if you could help them not. But what they were asking you to do, asking you to stay for that long, you couldn't guarantee it. You could feel hot, burning tears pooling in your eyes, simply from the frustration from the conversation. You regretted your next words the second they left your mouth,

"I wouldn't even be here if it was up to me." You said, and you watched as your words hit the boys. You watched as Marko physically recoiled, the hurt on his face quickly being overshadowed by insult. Paul frowned, his chattering quieting down completely as he instead glanced down to look at his bracelets instead. Dwayne's eyes finally flipped over to you, and, while his face was neutral, you watched the way he clenched his jaw before quickly looking away again. David, well, his reaction was hardly a surprise. He narrowed his eyes, quickly leaning back in his chair and glowering at you. Though, he didn't say a word. The boys had been your only company during your surprise stay in their dimension, and you knew that those words had been taken personally. He didn't push. You looked away from all of them, wiping away the build-up of tears before they could threaten to fall.

You pushed yourself up to stand, but Marko was reaching for you before you could walk away. His gloved hand grabbed your wrist, his fingers loose but his grip still strong enough to make you pause.

"Where are you going?" He was quick to ask, and you scoffed. It had sounded accusatory, like you were going to somehow slip back into your own dimension. You pulled your hand away, before you mumbled,

"I'm going to my room." And began to walk towards the caves. After two weeks of manuevering them, you had a good feel for them. At least, enough to find the room that the boys had set up for you. It felt weird for them to set something up in the main room, simply because you knew Star or Laddie would be occupying it eventually. Dwayne had let you borrow his lighter a week prior, and you used that to light up the candles left sporadically around the room. It was small, and similar to the cave the boys slept in. However, knowing you couldn't hang from the ceiling, they managed to find you, you didn't question how, a mattress, some blankets, and a couple of pillows. You had nailed a sheet over the entrance simply so you could have the illusion of a door, and the boys had taken it upon themselves to let you borrow some of their things to make it less bare. Some of their clothes even sat in a corner of the room, besides the ones you had managed to buy for yourself. Though, with your funds being awfully close to empty, you had allowed the boys to buy- steal- some for you. After the candles had been lit, you let yourself flop face forward onto the mattress and you used the pillow to muffle your groans.

You recalled the conversation, trying to pin-point exactly when it had gone to shit. Why David had taken it so personally when you'd only been stating the truth. You had no idea how you got here, and it wasn't like you'd be able to avoid going back. Though, as you thought it over more and more, you realized why you had hurt them so badly. Before you could completely confront it, you heard the sheet flutter before there was a soft knock on the rock of the cave. You sat up, looking over to see the brunette standing in your doorway. You wiped any remnants of your tears away and waved him in.

He took a few quick strides, and then sat at the edge of your bed. It wasn’t like they had a bed-post to support it, so the two of you were basically sitting on the floor once again. You sat up, gathering yourself up and sitting with your legs criss crossed. Dwayne let his stretch out in front of him, and he ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, and you waited patiently for him to speak. After nearly a minute, he said, 

“Are you- Are you mad at us?” And you stared at him for a moment. It wasn’t what you were expecting, and you answered quickly,

“No, I’m just- I just needed some space.” You said, and you watched as he nodded. He had his hands clasped in his lap, and he looked down at them for a moment before he asked,

“Do you not like it here?” And part of your heart ached at the question. If possible, you answered this question even quicker.

“No, not at all! I just- I miss my family. My friends. The twenty-first century.” You joked, but he only smiled just the tiniest bit. He looked back down, and his eyes didn’t lift up as he continued.

“We- David didn’t think you were going to be upset if he offered for you to stay. He just,” Dwayne sighed, pushing his hair away from his face once again. “He thought you’d jump at the opportunity. Especially since he suggested it. He didn’t expect an argument.” He said, and you stared at him for a moment. Your theory, the one you had been mulling over just before he arrived, seemed to be true. His plan was an offer to stay. A contract of sorts. An attempt to build trust. Something more than the thin veil you had developed, something that would assure you that they had no plans of making you their next meal. At least, until the events of the movie were over. After a moment, you said,

“I didn’t expect him to suggest it.” But you waited a beat before you added, “I mean, I’m not saying no. But, I’m not saying yes either. I have no idea if one day I’ll wake up and I just won’t be here anymore, y’know? It’s not really up to me. That’s what I meant when I said that, by the way. I didn’t mean to hurt you guys. I just don’t- I don’t want you guys to build your plan around me. I don’t want to get your hopes up.” You said, even if it pained you to say the words. Especially when he looked up at you and gave you a small frown. Quickly, as if to wipe it from his face, you said, “But if I could go and come back, I would. Though, I don’t even know how I managed to get here the first time-”

“Wait, really?” Dwayne asked, and you flushed at the suddenness of his question. You had been rambling, and you thought it over for a moment. If you were able to freely go back and forth? Well, you saw no issue then. You gave him a nod, even if the situation was completely hypothetical. Hypothetical or not, you could tell it meant something to him. Especially when he cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb over it. The affection made your cheeks flush. An act was expected from Paul, or even Marko, but Dwayne? It was a surprise. When his eyes flicked down to your lips, you realized that perhaps David’s suggestion had been for more than just a temporary truce. Suddenly, Michael's bottle scene flashed through your mind. You thought he'd been stupid to accept such obvious temptation. But, here you were, reaching up curl your hand into Dwayne's hair as he leaned in to kiss you.

[acdeaky]

to tell you the truth (i’m still in love with you)

warning: angst, fluff, mentions of sex

note: oscar isaac’s hot, no question. anyway, enjoy this, babies

word count: 3.3k

gif credit: @damerondjarin

it was dark out when you woke. the loud, incessant banging on the front door of your apartment had jerked you awake, and the minimal amount of lighting coming through the curtains let you know it was very early - or very late.

a part of you was tempted to roll back over under your sheets, pull them up to your chin and fall back asleep, but the knocking only seemed to become louder and more frequent.

you pulled off your covers and flicked on the small lamp by your bedside. your clock showed 2:43 as you shook your head and began to make your way through your small apartment to answer whoever thought it was a good idea to show up at your door right now.

you had an idea who it could be. there had been a few times when santiago had appeared on your doorstep in distress. on those occasions, you coaxed him inside with soft words and gentle touches as he pulled himself in on heavy feet, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders.

looking through your peephole, you knew this would be no different as you noticed the familiar stubble and greying hair of santiago’s, looking ever the same after three years. even after so long, you were who he crawled to, the only person who could calm the noise in his head.

the locks clicked as they were shifted, the hinges creaking afterwards as you pull the door open.

and, just as you knew, there he was. santiago’s usual, confident self was gone; even just looking at the way he held himself could tell you that. it almost looked like he was leaning against an invisible pole, his old stance gone, a new, tired one filling its place.

but he was here, and alive, and even after three years the only thing you could think of was-

“hi.” was all he said, a duffel bag by his feet and his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. 

“hi, welcome home.” you simply spoke, leaning against your doorframe, feeling like your heart was about the burst the longer you stood and looked at him. 

“do you know?” there was a slight quiver to his voice and his head dipped down from yours. “do you know where i went?” 

“frankie told me. when you left that night, i waited a couple of days for you to come back. then i asked fish if he knew where you were and he said you were in south america. i asked when you’d be back and he didn't know. i didn't expect you to be back three years later.”

you could almost remember that day, as clear as if it happened yesterday. the night before he left, your best friend, santiago garcia, invited himself to your apartment - like many nights - and brought dinner. he laid the excuse as wanting to spend time with you, have a night like you used to (even though it had only been a week or so since you last did something like this together). 

but santiago didn't take no for an answer; he let himself through the door and began pulling out containers of food and a couple of bottle of drinks. you welcomed it pleasantly, happy to be spending a night with just him, just santi, no tom or benny or will or frankie. no comments about your relationship, no teasing over your choice of drink (or teasing in general, which santiago would always reply with ‘they mean well’, and you know they do). 

a few hours later, the food was gone and you had both had a few drinks. the sun was settling down on the horizon and, if you looked carefully, you could begin to see the moon creeping up behind it. the red and orange sky covered your open room with light, bringing in a peaceful glow with it. the light settled on santiago, like it was used to his body and the dips and bumps covering him. 

he looked like a vision, ethereal. a beautiful dream which you had experienced so many times and you were selfish enough to only want to see it yourself for the end of time. you believed no one would appreciate it like you do, no one would find the same amount of beauty as you find in santiagoas he lets himself bask in the light. 

neither of you had realised that you had moved closer to each other over the course of the evening. you had started on almost opposite sides of the sofa, but now found your thighs pressed against the other’s, you shoulders bumping into each other’s as you moved. 

santiago’s music was playing in the background. at some point - god knows when - he had gone into the kitchen and, as he came back, the soft notes of his favourite song floated from the speakers and settled around you two. he handed you another drink, sitting back onto the sofa and leaning slightly towards you, his arm slung across the back cushions. his hand landed on your shoulder, and his fingers began drawing light patterns across your skin while he conversed with you. 

it was something that rarely happened. santiago had done this with you before, that being eating, drinking and relaxing, allowing the music to pull you from the real world as you talked until the early hours. never been so close and intimate. at the time, you thought nothing of it as his lips came to meet yours in a delicate attempt at confessing his feelings. 

the words “i've fallen in love with you” escaping his lips as they ghosted against yours, his breath hot and sticky against your skin as you replied, “i've fallen in love with you, too”.

santiago made you feel things you'd never felt before that night. he touched you with softness behind it, allowing his lips to travel wherever they could reach before picking you up off the sofa and trekking through the apartment to your room. 

the two of you spent the night together filling it with passion, giggled and delicate kisses. neither of you could get enough of one another. to you, he tasted so good, like nothing you've ever endured before, something good and amazing and so characteristically santiago. to him, you tasted like home, a forever presence that he refused to get rid of. 

and he really didn't want to. 

come morning, the sheets beside you were cold and pulled back. the couple of bits he haphazardly threw on the bedside table the night before were gone and so were the clothes you remember tugging from his body. the only thing he left was his jacket; it was the one you loved on him, that smelt like him. alongside it was a note, the words ‘i love you, but there's something i have to do’ were carefully engraved on the paper. 

that's when you waited. you gave santiago a few days to do whatever it was before you turned to frankie. that was a difficult conversation in itself and you could tell that frankie was as confused and conflicted as you were. he offered you an answer, more than santiago had given you, and a response to a question that no one in the world could answer, not even santiago. 

“i'm sorry-” 

“santi,” you stopped him, not wanting to do this - whatever it was - on the doorstep of your apartment at almost three in the morning. “do you - its late - but do you wanna come in?”

santiago looked back up at you, seeing your warm smile and kind eyes, something he had missed for the last three years. “yeh- yes, please.” you gave him a light nod, stepping further back into your apartment to give him space to pull himself through with his duffle bag. 

even after three years, he was still your santi. the cap he adorned was one you had spotted and persuaded him to buy; one which he had worn almost every single day since he went away. the jacket was new, one to replace his other one, but it fit him well, allowing his broad shoulders a chance to be seen. the colour suited him, too, a dark navy blue. 

he was heavy on his feet as he entered, shuffling around like he was a stranger in a foreign country as he thought about where was best to leave his bag. that had been his life for the past three years; everything he had and knew lived in there while he was deep in the jungles of south america. 

much to his surprise, he came back unscarred, physically at least. of course, his knees had taken a hit during his - mission? - and the neck surgery he gotten gotten the year before hadn't helped much either. but aside from that, he would be fine, so long as the nightmares were kept at bay, no one would think any different of santiago. 

but you weren't just anyone. you had seen santiago in his most vulnerable states, in every sense of the phrase. there was almost nothing you didn't know about him, but now, there was a large part of him you were a stranger to. without even knowing a tiny part of what had happened, you knew the santiago who was currently in front of you, sweaty hands and shaking nerves, was a different man to the one who left you three years ago. 

three years. god, santiago had changed, as had you. you had never been with someone since. many people had tried to win your affection, attempting to entice you with the promise of dinner and a sense of forever, but you didn't want that anyone but him, a man who was on a completely different continent and who had probably had many others beside him in his bed since that one night. 

regardless of how he had acted out there, your love never faltered, unlike your hope for his return. the light inside of you which had been sparked by santiago’s promise of love had quickly diminished when you began to believe that he would never come home. 

but you wouldn't think any different of him. he just didn't know that. 

“can i-”

“i'm sorry for-” you both began, santiago seemingly wanting to smooth things out above anything else. “you go.”

“no, no, it’s okay. i just- do you wanna sit?” he nodded, watching your finger point towards your sofa in the open space. it was the one where that night began, but most definitely didn't end. you knew that. he knew that. but you weren't offering a seat in a malicious way, wanting to see him squirm and suffer while making him remember what happened that night, you could see that he was tired. it was the least you could do. 

so santiago took your offer, turning away from you in a vain attempt at calming himself down. that wouldn't happen until things were sorted, until he felt that you knew everything. he just wanted to say- 

“what happened?” you whispered into the quiet, turning on a small light to light up the room. it glowed over the sofa, settling around your bodies as you moved to sit down next to santiago, not completely ready for how long this could take. 

but he was. santiago knew everything that happened in those years and it would not take a few minutes to tell. there was too much to say and almost not enough time. 

the story began with his time colombia, working for the police as a private military advisor. next came lorea and santiago’s escapades with his informant in search for the drug lord. he explains the house - the safe - and the job, how he roped benny and tom and will and frankie into helping him with the job. 

he didn't even make it through the mountains - tom. 

and something about the night feels strangely familiar. with the two of you, sat there, being shielded from the world only by your thin curtains, it felt like home. familiarity. the thing that seemed to have left you three years ago and escaped to south america.

your bodies were pressed into each other’s sides, the feeling of just another person being there after so long brings about comfort in the both of you. a warm, calloused hand of his sat in the both of yours, a thumb gently rubbing over the back of his hand.

somehow, your eyes were trained to santiago’s head throughout his story, never leaving his body for a second in case you missed something, anything. as for him, his eyes never left your joined hands, watching the delicacy of your movements, concentrating his sight on something so small, but so significant to him.

it was silent for a few moments after he finished. santiago kept his head down, watching the comfort on his hands, whereas your eyes were darting over his entire body, taking him in, thinking how much you had missed him.

“i’m so sorry, santi.” your voice was quiet, like earlier, only just drifting from your mouth and into his ears. that’s when he moved, shaking his head before looking up at you, finally meeting your eyes for the second time in years.

“no, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have just up and left like that, especially after what happened the night before.” there was a small smile on your face at that reminder and you hadn’t even noticed the quiver in his voice.

“it’s okay,” one of your hands left his thigh, moving upwards to cup santiago’s cheek, the stubble a little longer than usual. “you’re here now, and everything will be okay.”

his eyes closed as you allowed yourself this time to look at him. there was exhaustion buried deep inside of his skin, the usual relaxed look that he held whenever he closed his eyes was gone. it seemed that only a shell of the man you used to know came back from south america.

but you knew he was there. you knew your santiago was there, underneath it all. that’s why you held him. and that’s why you’d continue to hold him for as long as he needed you to.

without much thinking, you leaned closer to him, pressing your lips against his for only a second. an innocent kiss, much different to the ones you two had shared before he left, but it meant more to you both than either of you could describe.

then, as delicate as ever, one of his hands reached up to join your own, his large palm completely covering the back of yours. “come on,” you whispered, your free hand moving to card through his unruly curls. “let’s get you to bed.”

a slight nod was your only answer, that and the lack of resistance he gave you your hands grabbing his and helping him up from the sofa. everything stayed where it landed, neither you nor santiago making any effort to grab his bag and pull it into your room.

it almost seemed domestic. almost. as you crawled back under your covers, santi stripped off his jacket, leaving him in just a dark t-shirt. his jeans followed, the metal of the buckles clashing together as he pulled them off. the hat was last, being placed gently on your chest of drawers before he made his way over to you.

like usual, you welcomed him, pulling back the covers just enough for him to slip under, shuffling his body closer to yours. as he laid on his back, you took the silent invitation to press into his side. just as any other time, your head rested on his chest, both of your arms wrapping around the other’s body.

santiago let out a deep breath, his chest rising and falling so slowly it felt like you let one out, too. maybe you did, but it wasn’t important with where you were and who you were with in that moment. he was finally home, back and safe in your arms and not in a godforsaken dark corner of the narcotics war.

you fell back asleep to the steady beat of his heart, his hands running up and down your skin as he tries to soothe himself to sleep. eventually he does, well after you, but he feels safe this time, being back in your arms doing wonders for his mind.

it felt as if it had only been a few moments, but it wasn’t long before you could feel the rise and fall of santiago’s chest again, but this time on your back. the warmth of his breath on the nape of your neck was calming, that and the warmth of his hand over your exposed skin.

“we should get up, honey.” he says delicately, his voice rough with sleep, dry sounding, and you can feel him behind you, his eyes just barely opening as he decides to start his day. you feel guilty that you wish he wasn't awake, even as he reaches closer, an arm tightening around your waist as the other slips between the pillows and your head, reaching out for your hand as your other lands on his forearm, affectionate, loving. 

there was no use in pretending you weren't awake, your need to touch him, to feel him and know he was there and not in some god forsaken place in colombia, too great to even attempt to stay in his arms longer. 

“we shouldn't.” you mutter, turning your head to press into his skin, soft, warm. your fingers danced across his bronzed skin, keeping your lips pressed against his bicep as you did so.

santiago was complacent behind you, not even bothering to attempt to stay true to his words as he reveled in you, your warmth, your love, the exact thing he had missed all these years. his breath was still warm on the back of your neck, his lips only ghosting over your skin. even after last night, after the sacred kisses and emotions you’d shared, this is what stumped him.

it was only a few minutes later when you twisted onto your back, your hand leaving santi’s as you shifted to face him instead of hiding away. the hand that had left his own cradled his exposed cheek, your thumb carressing the delicate skin.

the beautiful brown eyes you love were still hidden by sleep-ridden eyelids. the only indication that he was awake being the small smile that adorned his face as you continued your ministrations, your own eyes flittering over his features like he would disappear, again.

“are you still in love with me?” he asked, breaking the silence without even opening his eyes to look at you, “after everything i’ve done?” his voice was so quiet, so petrified of your response, especially when that gentle hand stopped moving. god, never stop holding him like that.

“i’ve always been in love with you, santiago,” you assured him, guiding your hand to the back of his head to pull him even closer to you, fingers tangling in his short curls, “i don’t think i can ever stop.”

“can i tell you the truth?” his eyes finally met yours, confidently shifting the hand on your hip around you to press flat against your back, bringing your chests closer, bringing you closer.

“please.” it was a whisper, a beg, your plea for him to tell you what you already knew.

“i’m still in love with you.”

-

if anyone wants to be tagged in my oscar writing, let me know!

taglist: @shes-over-bored @i-barely-go-on-online @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @goldhoran @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedustmazzello @deakysgurl @forever-rogue @xcdelilahxc @keepsdrawings @igotsuckedintothevoid @kill4hqueen @supersonicfreddie @laedymoon @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @warriorteam1924 @painandpleasure86 @boomerangbassist @mamaskillerqueen​ @bhxrdy

santiago taglist: @stardust-galaxies @kindablackenedsuperhero

people who i think may like: @damerondjarin @unstoppableforcce @starryeyedstories @sergeantkane @youvebeenlivingfictional @writefightandflightclub @anetteaneta

[theblacklupins]

The bunch of keys in Remus’ hands jingled as he unlocked the glass door, opening the doors to the big space of bookshelves filled to the brim with leather bound books. Turning around, he smiled serenely as he looked around. Sunlight filtered through the gaps of the curtains.

He opened them, light now illuminating the entire bookstore. He sighed as he turned on the air conditioning, letting a cool breeze sweep over the entire shop.

He loved his job. He was surrounded by things he loved and it was all so calm and peaceful. Everything was what it was supposed to be.

Remus went behind the counter, clearing up any dust that had been left behind the day before. He looked at the clock.

“Eight,” he murmured, smiling softly to himself. “Gives me an hour, then.”

He shrugged on his coat, fixed his hair a bit and headed out with his wallet and phone, locking the doors again.

He headed down the street to which he’d just moved into, admiring the cute houses and occasional shop. He smiled brightly when he walked up to the place he’d been coming to ever since he opened his store.

He pushed open the glass doors, the smell of baked goods and coffee making his stomach rumble.

He stepped up behind two people who were queuing, silently pulling out his phone to scroll through Instagram. He smiled at Lily’s selfie with Marlene and Mary in the background. He commented sarcastic eye roll emojis and hearts and put his phone in his pocket when it was his turn to order.

“The usual, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus smiled shyly and he nodded, looking up only to find his breath taken away, as always.

Because in front of him was the cafe cashier, Sirius Black, wearing a white apron and a black turtleneck underneath, hair tied up in a messy bun.

“Yeah,” Remus replied a little breathlessly. “The normal.”

“Iced latte and chocolate muffin!” Sirius yelled to the people manning the food and drinks a few meters behind him. He faced Remus again, shaking his head amusedly. “Don’t know why you still drink an iced latte in this cold ass weather.”

Remus let out a small laugh. “Don’t know either.”

Sirius perked up. “Almost forgot. Now, don’t tell anyone, but...”

Sirius slid a paper bag with two warn double chocolate chip cookies in it. Remus blinked and shook his head, trying to refuse but Sirius pushed him away as another customer entered the store. Remus sighed as he took the cookies and waited at the side of the store for his order. In less than ten minutes, his name got called and he collected his order, sending a fleeting smile towards Sirius and then rushing out of the cafe.

Every day it was like this. Head over to the cafe, buy breakfast, maybe flirt a little with Sirius, run out to tend to his bookshop and be busy for the rest of the day. Only talking to Sirius once every day, and then going to sleep thinking about his smile.

It could be better, but Remus wasn’t going to start complaining.

He sighed as he bit into the muffin, deciding to save the cookies for later.

𓅰𓅰𓅰

Remus woke up late on a Friday, because he’d been up late arranging and sorting out the new delivery of books that he’d ordered. He only collapsed on his bed at two in the morning, not even bothering to change his clothes.

He woke in a panic at fifty minutes past seven and hurriedly got ready and went down his bookstore. His apartment was situated a level above the bookshop, so it was much more convenient instead of having to wake up much earlier and then having to walk. Which meant that even if he woke up late, he wouldn’t be too late.

He managed to run down the stairs, nearly twisting his foot and unlocking the doors only eight minutes late. Thankfully, there weren’t any customers yet. People usually came in in the late afternoons or just before dinner, which gave Remus plenty of time to sort out orders and deliveries for books.

But only after a half an hour, people started coming in, streaming through the doors and browsing the shelves. Remus was surprised; usually only a few people came in once a day. Why so many now, and in such a short amount of time?

“Hey!”

Remus jerked, head looking up and eyes widening.

“Sirius?”

Sirius grinned, now wearing a leather jacket instead of his usual white apron. “Hey, stranger. Noticed how you didn’t come into the cafe today. Here.” He placed Remus’ order of iced latte and chocolate muffin — plus an extra two cookies — and leaned against the wooden counter.

“Nice thing you’ve got going on here,” Sirius commented lightly, smiling at the books. “It feels like it would be calm. Well, calm if there weren’t a crowd of people here right now.”

Remus laughed. “Yeah, sorry, don’t know why either. Usually it’s really quiet until later. And I didn’t head to the cafe because I woke up late. Been up all night sorting everything out.”

Sirius pursed his lips. “I... may know the reason why you’ve gotten a bunch of customers all of a sudden.”

Remus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

“I may have... promoted your bookstore a bit? Yesterday?”

Remus blinked. “What?”

Sirius scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I, uh, went onto my cafe’s social media platforms and uh, promoted your bookshop.”

Remus whipped out his phone and went to Twitter, searching the cafe Sirius worked at, and sure enough, a picture of his bookshop, taken while Remus wasn’t in. The light from the sun illuminated the inside through the windows, making the entire shop nearly glow. The caption above stated:

Mr. Lupin’s bookshop is a must to visit once you’ve bought from us! Books and cafe delights are something to bring peace to heart and mind. Check out Mr. Lupin’s bookshop and you won’t be disappointed, with your favorite titles about romance, adventure or fantasy at your fingertips with a cup of coffee right beside.

Remus’ eyes widened and he looked up at Sirius, who smiled sheepishly. Before he could say anything, though, a few customers started to line up. Sirius had to move to the side so Remus could help them.

Once that was tended to, Remus faced Sirius, who had sidled up next to him behind the counter. “You— you really did that.”

Sirius grinned. “I did.”

Remus smiled softly, blushing just a tiny bit. “Thanks. This... really means a lot to me.”

Sirius’ grin turned softer, quieter, more of an adoring look than a smile at that point. “You’re welcome. I’m glad it made you happy.”

An elderly woman came up to the desk, holding a copy of Anne Frank. “Hello dears, how much is this?”

Remus helped her with her payment, and when she had the paper bag in her arms securely, she asked sweetly, “You boys look very sweet together. Reminds me if my own grandson and his husband.”

Remus blushed and became flustered, trying to explain how he and Sirius weren’t together, but he was silenced when Sirius replied, “Thank you, ma’am. I like to think we look good together too.”

She smiled serenely and walked out of the store, leaving behind a stuttering Remus.

“You...”

“Go out on a date with me, Remus Lupin?” Sirius asked quietly, fiddling with his fingers. “I know— we don’t talk a lot, but I’m really smitten with you and I’m hoping—"

Remus cut him off with a chaste kiss, only pressing in a couple of seconds before parting.

“Yeah, I’ll go on a date with you,” Remus breathed. He jumped when a wolf whistle sounded through the shop, and everyone started applauding. Remus blushed furiously and shrunk back, glaring at Sirius who grinned at him and bowed as if he was part of a show that dramatically changed everyone’s lives.

𓅰𓅰𓅰

“So we’re having a coffee date right?”

“Would be wrong not to, to be honest.”

[moonlit-han]

plus one ↠ lee minho

genre: friends to lovers, almost-fake dating au (femme reader) word count: 6.2k warnings: swearing, suggestive (gets steamy at the end), alcohol consumption request: yes (anon) a/n: so this turned out about twice as long as i expected it to . . . there’s a lot to do before you can actually go to a wedding. oh and this includes a guest appearance from park seonghwa of ateez. i promise i think he’s lovely in reality!

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

You were just sitting down to enjoy a nice cup of tea, which you’d been looking forward to all day, when your phone buzzed. Without even looking at the screen, you already knew who it would be—there was only one person in your life with such uniformly strange timing.

min😼: hey y/n….could you do me a favor? y/n: ……what do you want, minho…. min😼: so my  v e r y  rich cousin’s wedding is coming up and i need a plus one. it’s fancy, so they want everyone to partnered up and shit min😼: and there will be food. it’ll be good bc these are the rich cousins y/n: oooooh okay, sure! i’m always down for sort of crashing a wedding. when is it? min😼: it’s next weekend min😼: shit please tell me you have a fancy dress y/n: lee minho, are you seriously telling me i have to go buy a fancy dress?? min😼: maybe;;;; y/n: you’re coming with me and paying for half min😼: sure, fine with me y/n: wait seriously? you’re actually gonna do that? min😼: yeah, why not? y/n: nvm~ y/n: so should we go dress shopping tomorrow evening? min😼: sounds good to me! want me to pick you up after i get off work? y/n: 👉🏼👈🏼 please? min😼: you’re damn lucky you’re cute. y/n: see you then!

You closed your phone, still trying to process the fact that you were going to a wedding with Minho. He was a good friend—you’d met a few years ago and had a bit of a love-hate relationship. But ultimately, you agreed that being friends would be much better than not. In the time since, you’d become those kinds of friends who casually held hands, cuddled whenever possible, and shared clothes more than Minho actually realized. (You’d gotten quite good at stealing his t-shirts and sweatpants).

Your friends were convinced the two of you should date but you both just waved them off. Even his family thought you were dating—Minho hadn’t exactly told them they were wrong, though, unbeknownst to you. And now here you were about to go to a wedding with him. When you woke up that morning, you definitely hadn’t been expecting that. But now, you were actually looking forward to what would certainly be a memorable occasion.

Minho picked you up around 5:15 pm and you headed to the mall, circling the parking lot for a few minutes until you found a spot. When you exited the car, the wind blew your hair into your eyes; you heard your traitor of a friend snort as he saw what had happened. Getting your hair back under control, you walked toward the mall entrance. Once inside, you started in the direction of the large department store. But before you could Minho pulled you along with him instead.

At your confused look, he said, “If we’re getting you a dress for a black-tie wedding, then we’re getting you a good quality one.” You opened your mouth to object, thinking of how much it would cost. “No, don’t argue, Y/N.”

Deciding it would be best not to go against Minho when he clearly had a plan, you just closed your mouth and went with it. Minho let go of the fabric of your tank top after several strides, but made sure that you stayed with him—the mall was more crowded than you’d expected. So, after almost losing twice, Minho decided to just go for it and hold your hand. He pulled you close to his side, his hand familiar and reassuring in yours. 

You made your way to what you suspected was the most expensive formalwear boutique in the entire mall, feeling self-conscious in your jeans and tank top. The shop attendant, a cheery elderly woman, came hurrying up to you and Minho, fluttering around you rather like a butterfly. 

“Hello, I’m Violet! How may I help you all? What’s the special event?” she chirped, giving the two of you what she must have thought was a sly smile.

Crap, you thought, we must look like a couple. Again. You tried to extricate your hand from Minho’s, but he just shifted to lace his fingers with yours and held on tight.

“We’re attending a black-tie wedding,” Minho said, straight to the point as always. “I already have my tuxedo, but Y/N, here, needs a dress. Do you have anything in burgundy?”

You looked at Minho, not expecting him to take the lead in buying a dress, much less choose a color. 

“Of course!” said Violet. “Y/N, was it? If you’ll follow me so we can get your measurements and such? Your gentleman friend can wait on the sofa over there.” She pointed to a sleek looking seating area clearly meant for those who accompanied the boutique’s many clients.

“I’d prefer to come back with her and see the dresses,” Minho said, surprising you yet again. The attendant’s smile grew wider as, still holding your hand, Minho walked with you through the maze of evening gowns to the fitting rooms.

“Oh, well, all right,” the elderly woman agreed grudgingly. “But I must insist you stay out of the dressing room. That would simply be one step too far, young man!”

Minho laughed lightly and assured her, “I’ll stay well away, madam. No worries.”

“You had better.” Violet turned to you, holding out a tape measure and a little pad of paper with a miniature pen attached to it. “Have you measured yourself before? Good. Just write it all down and we’ll see what size you need.”

You glanced back at Minho before entering the dressing room—he was leaning against the wall opposite from the Violet, as far from your dressing room as he could get. After a few minutes of wrestling with the tape measure, you emerged and handed over the pad of paper.

“Okay, my dear,” Violet said, “come with me and we’ll see about some styles. What colors, besides burgundy, would you like to try on?”

You thought for a moment, following carefully through the racks upon racks of dresses and suits.  “Emerald, black, and teal,” you said before you thought better of saying you’d wear black to a wedding. 

Nodding, Violet stopped in front of a long display of gowns that ranged from a deep red that was almost black to the brightest red you’d ever seen. “I’ll just go see what I can find for you, dear,” she said before moving off.

Your eyes darted from dress to dress to dress, the shades and fabrics nearly overwhelming you—you’d never seen so many formal gowns in one place before. Occasionally, you took down a dress to look at it more closely, and soon your arms were weighed down with ten dresses. As you made your way back to the fitting rooms, Violet reappeared carrying five dresses of her own, all in the colors you’d mentioned.

“Now, you just go in there and get these on as best as you can, and I’ll help you with any zippers or ties that you can’t get to.” Violet smiled kindly as she ushered you into the fitting room.

You undressed and slipped the first gown on, trying not to step on the hem, but it was difficult not to. The dressmakers seemed to have assumed that everyone was unusually tall. After straightening the neckline a little and smoothing your hair, you stepped out of the fitting room. 

“So, how do you like it?” you asked Minho, who was still lounging against the wall.

“Eh,” he shrugged, “I’m not crazy about the color, but your hips look great.”

“You—” you began, but stopped because you were in public. Now he commenting on your hips! That was a new one. So, you went back to try on another dress. Each of the next five dresses you paraded in front of your friend somehow didn’t live up to whatever expectations he had for your gown.

You sighed and pouted a little after the sixth dress. “Min, what’s wrong with this one? I like it, plus it’s comfortable! And I’m the one wearing it, anyway.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know this side of the family. They expect everything and everyone to be and look perfect.”

“Well, shit,” you grumbled.

“Here,” Minho offered, “I’ll go see if I can find you a dress. Just sit tight for a minute.” Before you could say anything to the contrary, he’d turned and headed into the maze of gowns.

“Your Minho is sweet, offering to find you a dress,” Violet said as she helped you unzip the dress.

“I guess,” you said grudgingly. “I’m not sure he actually knows what to look for, though.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Violet grinned at you in the mirror.

While you waited, you looked back through the dresses you’d already tried on, thinking you’d choose one in case Minho couldn’t find the perfect dress himself. The deep teal dress kept drawing your eye, but you weren’t sure if it was too formal. 

“Y/N?” Minho called from outside the fitting room. “Open up so I can give you this dress.”

You took the dress, just barely peaking out from behind the door, and hung it on one of the hooks specifically for the gowns. It was, as you’d suspected, a deep burgundy and not too puffy in the skirt. You weren’t sure about the beading around the bodice, though. But, you’d try it on for Minho—even if just to prove him wrong if it looked horrible.

After struggling with the corseting in the back, you decided to ask for Violet’s help. Ever obliging, she slipped into the changing room and helped lace you into the gown. Somehow, it fit perfectly and you didn’t even have to hold your breath or anything.

When he saw you in the gown, Minho wolf-whistled. “Damn, Y/N,” he said appreciatively. “You look . . . hot. Yeah.” He paused. “Now aren’t you glad I picked a dress for you? I even made sure it wasn’t too expensive.”

“Yeah, thank you, Min,” you said, smiling at him. “I really look hot?” Suddenly, you were very conscious of the dress’s low neckline.

“No, you look really hot. It’s the best one so far. Is it comfortable?”

“I— Okay, I guess I’ll get this one, then,” you said, surprised at how easy a decision it was. “It’s actually super comfortable.”

“Perfect,” Minho said. “Everyone will be entranced by how gorgeous you are.”

Trying to ignore that last comment, you said, “And, um, Violet? Could you help me again?” You were a bit embarrassed to be buying a piece of clothing you couldn’t get into by yourself. Your roommate would just have to help.

As you changed back into your street clothes, Violet and Minho went up to the register. You thought over how much you’d be paying for the dress, and were quite glad that Minho had agreed to pay for half. 

“So,” you said as you reached the register, “how much do I owe?”

Violet gave you a little wink. “You don’t owe anything, dear. It’s all taken care of. There was even a discount on this dress!”

You turned on Minho. “You didn’t….”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Okay?” Minho almost sounded defensive, but maybe he was just tired.

“But I—”

“I said don’t worry about, babe,” Minho interrupted. “See? Now I don’t have to get you a birthday present this year.” Minho sent you a sly grin and a wink. You just rolled your eyes.

“You’ll have to excuse me for saying so,” Violet tittered, breaking the slight tension in the air, “but you two make such a lovely couple. It seems to me you’ll be planning your own wedding soon!”

You blushed. You knew you blushed. How could you not have?

“Thank you, ma’am,” Minho said smoothly. “That’s still quite far in the future, though.” He gave Violet one of his winning smiles that never ceased to make parents, teachers, disagreeable elderly ladies, and, of course, you feel like the most important and lovely person in the world.

“Oh! Well, whenever the happy day is, I wish you both well. Enjoy!” Violet handed you the long dress bag and waved as you left the store.

“Lee Minho, what exactly was that all about?” you demanded once you were well away from the boutique.

“What was what all about?” Minho replied, feigning innocence as he ambled along, hands in his pockets.

“You know what.” You tried not to sound petulant. “Why did you pretend we’re getting married or something?”

“It makes ladies like her happy to think of the younger generation settling down. Besides, she seemed like she needed something exciting in her life. Now, she’ll just spend the rest of the day imagining our wedding, even though she’ll never see us again. See? She gets a daydream and we got the clearly made-up “Cute Couple Discount.” Minho slung an arm around your shoulders, jostling you slightly. “Come on, buttercup,” he chuckled, “am I really that hideous for you to hate even pretending?”

Still nonplussed, you shook your head and shoved Minho with your hip—that didn’t stop him from keeping his arm around your shoulders, though. You didn’t reply, since the truth was too embarrassing to even admit.

↠↞

You cursed yourself for a fool as you tried to put on the dress for the wedding. Today just had to be the day your roommate wasn’t around. First, you’d tried lacing it up with the dress back-to-front and slipping it around yourself to just tighten the laces. When that didn’t work, you tried lacing it up loosely and then pulling tight. It still wouldn’t cooperate. Well, there was only one thing for it now. 

y/n: ….min you’re on your way, right? min😼: yeah of course y/n: i need help with my dress😩🙃😩 min😼: ok. i’ll be there in 5 mins y/n: thanks!!! you’re the best!!!!😭💕💕💕 min😼: i know

You hurriedly wrestled your hair into a bun, thankful that you could get away with such a simple style. With your makeup already done, you waited by the door, your shoes and a small clutch in one hand and the other holding up the bodice of your dress. This was going to be . . . interesting.

Minho knocked the door and you called, “It’s open!” just as he discovered that very thing. The door opened and—

Lee Minho in a tuxedo was a sight to behold. You wolf-whistled, smirking at your best friend. In response, Minho just raised his eyebrows and inclined his head toward you, as if to say, “You don’t look bad yourself.” You noticed twin flags of pink on his cheeks, too.

“Okay,” Minho said, taking a deep breath as he saw you waiting there in the entryway, “turn around. It’s just simple lacing, right?”

“It should be simple,” you grumbled, “but not for me!”

“I’ve got it, buttercup.” You smiled at that—Minho had recently taken to calling you that nickname far more often than before. “Hold the dress up until I’ve got most of the laces done up, okay?”

Without hesitation, Minho deftly began to draw the laces through the eyes of the corset, occasionally grumbling when one didn’t cooperate. Shortly, you were laced into your dress and Minho was tightening everything to your comfort level. His breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck was horribly distracting.

“Is this good?” he asked. “I don’t want to squish your lungs.”

“I’m fine! It’s actually perfect” You turned to face Minho, and he had to step back quickly so as not to be hit in the nose with the crown of your head.

“All right, then let’s get going. I don’t want to be late—they’d never forgive me.” Minho then tried to shunt you out your own door, but you threatened him with one of your heels.

While the wedding wasn’t too far outside the city, it would still take you and Minho an hour to get there. You hoped it wouldn’t be too hot, since there was nothing worse than body odor on formalwear. Lifting the hem of your dress, you all but clambered into Minho’s car and buckled your seatbelt. A moment later, you were heading toward the highway, your windows down and Minho easily guiding the car between the light traffic. He even let you choose which music you’d listen to—a rare honor. One or two people glanced over at you at stoplights, but you ignored them. What was wrong with dressing up a little . . . or a lot?

“I just want to tell you a few things before we get there,” Minho said when you were ten minutes away from the venue. You nodded. “Like I said, these are the rich cousins. Everyone will be dressed in black tie attire and acting like they know how to behave. They don’t. I don’t particularly want to get boisterously drunk, but most everyone else will. I can’t promise there won’t be debauchery, especially since it’s an outdoor wedding—lots of shadows to slip off to.” He paused, thinking of what else to warn you about. “Oh, and then there’s Great-Aunt Mia. She’s a handful, to say the least, and likes to comment on everyone’s life decisions. Even if she doesn’t know you, she’ll still find some way to be condescending.”

You gave Minho an incredulous look. “And why exactly did you want to go to this wedding if it’s going to be such a shit show?”

“Hey, it won’t be that bad,” Minho countered. “But yeah, I think that’s all I wanted to say.”

“I’ll just stick with you, since I won’t know anyone there,” you said brightly.

As he turned down the long drive lined with an old yew hedge that led to the mansion on whose grounds the wedding would occur, Minho flashed a radiant smile at you.

It was going to be good night.

↠↞

The wedding ceremony itself was beautiful, and you were almost moved to tears along with everyone else, despite not knowing the newlyweds. And no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Minho was sitting next to you, his thigh warm against yours and impossible to ignore. When everyone stood to congratulate the happy couple, Minho put his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing the back of your neck. While cuddling and causal touches were normal between the two of you, something had definitely changed in the past week and you weren’t sure what to make of it.

There was a bit of time between the actual ceremony and the reception, so you and Minho decided to go back to his car and nap. It felt a little odd napping in a formal gown, but you didn’t much care. Sleep was always important in your world. You and Minho laid the seats back as far as they’d go and rolled all the windows down to tempt in a breeze. Just as you were falling asleep, you felt Minho’s hand slip into yours. As if on reflex, you laced your fingers in his. 

When you woke to Minho’s obnoxious alarm song, you were still holding hands.

“Ready to party?” Minho wiggled his eyebrows at you, sitting up. “We get to see my relatives make fools of themselves!”

“Oh, you know I am. That’s my favorite pastime,” you said, clapping your hands like an excited child.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Minho said, and you reached out to swat him.

Once you stood outside the car, you decided to redo your bun—you didn’t particularly want to look like you’d just been asleep—but, Minho gently stopped you.

“It looks better loose,” he said, reaching out to carefully place your hair so it sweetly framed your face. It was such a tender gesture that it made your heart ache. So, you left your hair down and, still hand-in-hand with Minho, made your way toward the large tent under which the celebration was just getting under way. 

For dinner, you and Minho were seated with some of his younger cousins and their friends. You felt utterly out of your depth, since you didn’t spend much time with fifteen year-olds. They peppered the two of you with questions about adulthood. Thankfully, Minho had been right: there was more than enough food and it was delicious. The wine to go with dinner was excellent, too. You had to stop yourself from going back for thirds of one dish. And when the cake came out, you could barely contain your glee over how good it was. Minho even managed to put a dab of icing on your nose, and laughed himself silly at your look of betrayal.

As tradition dictated, the newlyweds had the first dance. It was sweet and a bit somber. You held back as Minho went to dance as soon as everyone else was invited to dance. The younger cousins flocked to the dance floor like geese. Minho danced exuberantly, joyously, and you couldn’t help smiling at him whenever he faced you. Without his suit coat, he could move freely as any leaf on the wind, and all too quickly, he was lost to you as more and more people flooded the dance floor.

“Hey,” a voice behind you said. You hadn’t noticed anyone approach as you watched a couple in front of you dance their hearts out. Looking up, your eyes met those of an incredibly handsome young man you’d seen in the bridal party. His tuxedo looked so normal that it practically screamed that it cost more than you’d care to imagine.

You gave him a mildly confused look. “Hello?”

“Oh, come on, that’s no way to talk to a kind gentleman simply saying ‘Hello,’” the man said.

“I don’t know you,” you said uncertainly. 

“True. Park Seonghwa at your service.” He left space at the end of the sentence, expecting you to provide your name. You didn’t. But that didn’t stop him. “So,” he continued, pulling out a chair next to you and straddling it, “what’s a beautiful woman like you doing sitting over here when you could be dancing?”

“I just didn’t feel like dancing yet,” you said, keeping your voice even, and took a sip of your wine. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Seonghwa looked affronted. “Do you see this suit? There’s no way I can dance in this!”

You laughed—you couldn’t help it, not when this preening popinjay was being so ridiculous. And, of course, he took your laughter as a sign that he was doing something right and proceeded to shift his chair closer to yours. A waft of his cloying cologne hit you like a freight train and you coughed lightly, leaning away.

“If I’m supposed to dance in this gown, then you can definitely dance in that suit,” you said mockingly.

“Ah! Care to dance with me, then, beautiful?” Seonghwa stood and held out his hand, expecting you to take it. He had the air about him that he was used to getting what he wanted. “Or we could go somewhere private and I can show you my . . . moves.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not going to dance or do anything else with someone I just met, especially one so cocky as you.” You turned away from Seonghwa to resume watching the guests dancing. A moment later, your view was eclipsed by the thing very person you were trying to avoid.

“Could you move?” you asked peevishly. “Whatever you want, I’m not interested.”

“Why don’t you want to dance with me, hmm?” Seonghwa demanded. “Aren’t I handsome enough?”

“Is that all you can talk about? How handsome you are?” you snapped. “I said I’m not interested, and that should be enough.” Your thoughts raced—usually only one thing worked on guys like this. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

Seonghwa made to grab your hand to pull you out of your seat, but stopped as a hand clasped his shoulder. “Ah. Seonghwa. I shouldn’t be surprised. Kindly fuck off, won’t you?” Minho said as brightly as the glint of sunlight off a lake on a summer’s day. His hair was slightly disheveled from dancing, but that didn’t stop him from looking like a prince to you. In fact, it only helped.

“Minnie!” Seonghwa cried, turning to face Minho. “It’s good to see you! It’s been too long.”

“Hmm, I’d say not long enough,” Minho muttered, but Seonghwa wasn’t paying attention.

“I was just about to dance with— You know, I never did catch this lovely creature’s name.”

“And I’m still not going to give it to you,” you insisted, angry that you’d been called a “lovely creature.”

“Seonghwa, really. Go bother someone else.” Minho’s voice was still calm, but it had an edge to it. “I’m tired of your shit.” 

“Oh, I see how it is,” Seonghwa said, looking between you and Minho. Then, sensing that he couldn’t charm his way out of this situation, he stalked off in the direction of the bar.

Letting out a sigh, Minho came to stand by you and gently rubbed your back. The cut of your gown was such that his hand only met bare skin, and you felt a shiver pass over you. A few minutes passed as you both simply watched the gyrating crowd.

“Is he always like that?” you asked suddenly.

Minho looked down at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Hmm?”

“Is Seonghwa always such a dick? I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so insufferable and narcissistic,” you run a hand through you hair, the picture of annoyance.

“Yeah,” Minho says sadly. “He’s never really understood that the life he’s used to isn’t everyone else’s reality. And it doesn’t help that he knows he’s disgustingly handsome.”

You giggled. “That’s the perfect way to put it.”

A slow, mellow love song began to play and the young cousins back to the table, too embarrassed to remain on the dance floor. Minho leaned down to your ear and said, “Why don’t you come dance, now. I think the young ones are about to start annoying us again. I promise I won’t leave you on the side this time.” 

Smiling, you stood, and Minho’s hand went to your waist as he drew you out onto the dance floor. The skirt of your gown swirled around you most satisfyingly. Dancing with Minho had always been easy, since all you had to do was follow his lead and hope you didn’t trip over your own feet. Tonight was no different. With one hand at your waist and the other between your shoulder blades, Minho held you close to him as you carefully swayed and sometimes twirled together. Your arms had automatically gone to loop around the back of his neck, which made you think of all the times you’d done that with silly guys in high school. Minho laughed, surprised but pleased.

You were aware of Minho’s fingers gently weaving in and out of the ends of your hair, almost as if he didn’t want you to know. You brushed your thumb against the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and he sucked in a breath. Something had changed between you and Minho in the past two weeks, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. There was just something about being at a wedding that made you feel especially romantic.

“Lee Minho!” came a slightly hoarse and distinctly peevish voice.

“Oh no,” Minho groaned and rested his forehead on your head, clearly hoping you could hold him up that way.

“Is that your great-aunt Mia,” you whispered, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the elderly woman hurriedly making her way toward you. Her wispy white hair formed a cloud around her head, much like a dandelion gone to seed. When dancers didn’t move from her quickly enough, she rapped them on the ankles with her gnarled cane. 

“Mhmm,” Minho grimaced.

“Should she be on the dance floor?” you asked, concerned. 

“Probably not.”

“Lee Minho, what do you think you’re doing?” Great-Aunt Mia said, knocking her cane into Minho’s calves so he nearly fell into you.

“Hello, Aunt Mia,” Minho said, turning to face the disagreeable woman; he kept his hand on your waist, though. 

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young man!”

“Sorry, Aunt Mia. I wish I could have visited you, I really do, but school’s just been so busy. I hope you’ve been well.” You could tell by the set of his shoulders that Minho was trying not to be sarcastic toward his elder relative, and decided to snake your arm around his waist. For moral support.

“Minho, you didn’t tell me you have a girlfriend. You will introduce us.” Great-Aunt Mia didn’t ask to be introduced; no, she commanded.

“Oh, right,” Minho said, and Great Aunt Mia glared, as if Minho’s lapse in cordiality was a high crime. “Great Aunt Mia, may I present my girlfriend, Y/N L/N.”

If you’d just taken a sip of your now abandoned wine, you would have spluttered. You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard. Girlfriend? You’d certainly entertained the idea in your wildest, most private daydreams, but never thought of it seriously. Minho always negated any suggestion of you being a couple, so, surely, he was joking this time, too. He had to be. After all, you’d been mistaken for a couple more times than you could count.

“Well, girl?” Great-Aunt Mia’s voice cut through your thoughts like a hot knife through butter. All around you, the other guests continued dancing.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, nearly tripping over your words as you raced to get them out. Great-Aunt Mia was scary. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.” You weren’t sure if you should courtesy or hold out your hand to shake hers or what—this interacting-with-rich-people thing mildly unnerved you.

“Oh, call me Aunt Mia—everyone does!” Great-Aunt Mia chortled, then, she peered at you. “So, you’ve won the heart of our darling Minho, have you? Well, what do you do?”

“I—” you began, then had to swallow. “I’m still in college, ma’am, but I have a part-time job at a bookstore.” There was no way you were going to call this harpy of a woman “Aunt Mia.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said, making it clear that she did not think it good in the least. “I’m sure you’ll be a fine wife for Minho. Don’t embarrass us, please.”

Her pronouncement hung in the air as you and Minho simply stared. Then, Great-Aunt Mia sharply turned her head to the side, like a fox that had just sensed a vole nearby, and hobbled away into the crowd of dancers. Even after you could no longer see her, you knew where she went by the yelps of pain from those unfortunate enough to get in her way.

“So, where were we?” Minho said, pulling you around to face him again. As he did so, his hands came to rest on your hips, much lower than before. You could feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of your dress.

Before you could say anything, Minho stiffened as he looked up and past you. “I need you to make out with me,” he said quickly, bringing his lips to your ear. “Please, I’m begging, Y/N. I’ll explain later.”

“Wha—” was all you got out before Minho’s lips were on yours. Without thinking, you fit your lips more perfectly to his and kissed back. He tasted of sweet icing, white wine, and the salt of sweat from dancing. You clung to him, holding on for dear life as reality seemed to shimmer like a veil in front of you. And, Minho clearly thought now was not the time for half-measures, since he’d roughly pulled your hips to his—you could tell his pants were feeling far too tight at the moment. You gasped against his lips as he slid his tongue into your mouth. Minho cupped the back of your head, still holding your hip like a lifeline in a storm. 

“Hey, if you’re not gonna dance, get off the dance floor!”

“Get a room!”

“Ooooh, hot!”

You broke the kiss, blushing at the comments from people around you and at how enthusiastically you’d kissed him back. You were both panting slightly. 

“Min,” you breathed. “What was that— Why— We just—”

Minho interrupted you with another peck on the lips, then pulled you with him off the dance floor. “Let’s get out of here.”

You followed Minho out from under the tent, away from the people and lights and wine that flowed like Dionysus himself presided over the bar. The memory of the softness of Minho’s lips on yours buzzed through your veins, making you feel warm honey. When you reached an old maple, you stopped, still holding hands.

“Minho, why did we just make out?” you said, looking up into his face. “Not that I minded!” you added quickly.

“Seonghwa was coming toward us and he, well—” Minho looked uncomfortable. “He has a history of trying take away the people I’m dating. I wasn’t about to let him get you.”

“But, we’re not dating . . .” you said, hearing how uncertain you sounded and mentally kicking yourself.

“He didn’t have to know that,” Minho said, his voice firm. “I still didn’t want him worming his way between us.” He reached up and lightly ran his fingertips along the line of your cheekbone. You couldn’t help yourself—you leaned into his touch.

The winking of fireflies in the trees on the far side of the lawn made it look like Minho was surrounded by stars. The next words you spoke took all your courage, and then some, to say. “What if we did date, Min?” 

Minho didn’t bother with a lengthy speech detailing the reasons he wanted you. He didn’t fall to his knees and clutch at your skirts, professing his love in verse. He didn’t walk away. Instead, Minho cupped your face in his hands and brought his mouth to yours again.

“Yes, yes,” he said in between kissing your cheeks, your lips, your eyelids, everywhere he could. “Oh Y/N, love, please.” The last word came out a little strangled.

You ran your fingers through Minho’s hair, holding him to you as you all but devoured each other. The fabric of your dress against your skin suddenly felt too tight, and all you wanted to do was yank it off yourself. Instead, you settled for untying Minho’s bowtie and starting on his buttons. At the same time, he began working at the lacing of your gown.

“We,” Minho gasped, “should go back to the car. We can’t just— Not under a tree.”

You giggled at how close you’d come to tearing each other’s clothes off in the middle of a public lawn. While it was still early in the evening, it wasn’t that dark yet. “Come on, then,” you grinned. “We can time how long it takes you to undo the lacing of this fucking dress.”

It turned out that Minho was more adept at unlacing things than you’d expected, and you were soon out of your dress. Minho’s shirt was gone, too. So, clothed in far less than what you’d arrived at the wedding in, you straddled Minho’s lap in the backseat of his car. His lips on your skin felt like the fire that the fireflies in the surrounding trees seemed to hold. But his kisses were still the best, making you feel as though you partook of the sweetest ambrosia.

Your hands were still in his hair as his roamed your back and down to grip your thighs. Minho pulled you closer to him and nuzzled your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there. Every time you ground your hips into his, Minho let out a moan so pretty that you thought you could listen to it every day. You were sure that you’d blaze up in a pillar of flame at any moment, you felt so full of frenetic energy. 

The heat between the two of you grew steadily until it was all you could do not to cry out. Minho’s body covered you, warm and lithe, and soon he murmured your name over and over and over again. Fireflies danced behind your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N,” Minho whispered, holding you to his chest as you curled up on the seat together—your dress made a surprisingly good blanket. “I love you so much.”

“Min, please tell me you mean that,” you said, not daring to believe that you weren’t just dreaming, even after everything that you’d just done. 

“I do mean it, buttercup,” Minho said, kissing your temple. “And I’ll mean it every day of my life. I promise.”

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Forget Him (P.JM)

Warnings : partying, mentions of sex, swearing, punching

Synopsis : her relationship with notorious fuckboy Kim Taehyung is over, but she can’t seem to move on. her best friend tells her the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, so she takes his advice. little does she know, he’d do more than just help her get over Taehyung.

Word Count : 3703

When my eyes met his I could feel my heart break all over again. It’s not that I expected to never see him again, we go to the same university. I just didn’t expect to see him with someone new so soon. I thought I meant more to him than that, but he warned me from the start.

           “I hope you’re not looking for anything serious.” I looked up from my plate of food, curiousness prevalent on my features, even I could tell without seeing my own face. “I like you, but if you’re looking for serious I’ll just break your heart.” A smile took over my previous curious expression.

           “I have thick skin; you’ll have to try really hard to break my heart.” I joked before taking another bite of the food he paid for. “Besides, I’m way too busy with university to be serious.” It was his turn to smile at me and I had to calm my heart. I could do casual, it’s for the best anyway. I don’t need any distractions. But at this point, who am I trying to convince?

           I was telling the truth when I said he’d have to try really hard to break my heart. I’d been hurt in the past, it took a lot for me to open up, but it seemed as if he made it his mission to do exactly that. He was perfect, for me and just in general. And the girl currently wrapped up in his arms, smiling up at the man I never meant to fall for, is nothing short of perfect as well. There was no doubt in mind moving on would be easier for him than it would be for me, but did he really have to rub it in my face like that?

           “You say you hate the guy and yet you can’t take your eyes off of him.” The familiar sound of my best friend’s voice tore my attention away from the sickeningly sweet couple. He draped his arm across my shoulders and dragged me away from the scene. “You know the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” I playfully slapped him.

           “Only you would say that to me.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes. When I met Hoseok, I was immediately drawn to him. He made it so easy to open up to him and to fall for his energy. I’d never gotten close to someone as quickly as I did with him, and for good reason, but he never made me doubt my decision.

           “Just come hang out with me and my other friends and stop looking so pitiful.” I rolled my eyes, but I wouldn’t protest to being as far away from Taehyung as possible. “Jimin, Namjoon, this is my best friend Y/N.” He quickly greeted when we approached two guys standing off in their own little world. “Can you watch her so I can go get us drinks?” I wasn’t someone who needed to be watched, but I appreciated the sentiment.

           “Any reason you need to be babysat?” Jimin chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. I rolled my eyes at the cockiness that he exuded, so similar to Taehyung’s, but I trusted Hoseok’s judgment of his character and refrained from punching him.

           “My ex is here with his new girlfriend.” Could I even call him that? Were we ever actually dating?

           “You look stunning.” He said almost breathlessly, reaching out to take one of my hands in his. “How did I get so lucky to have you by my side?” His smile was genuine as he looked down at me, slowly wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

           “I should be the one asking that, Tae.” We spoke so softly, as if we were afraid others would hear and pull us out of this bubble we created for ourselves.

           “Well we should get going. I have something special planned for our 100th day.” My heart skipped a beat at the thought that he put together something special just for me. If he still wanted casual, he wouldn’t go out of his way for something so minuscule as the 100th day, would he? I didn’t let myself dwell on it too much as got into the car when he opened the door for me. He held my hand the entire drive to what I thought was a restaurant, but instead he stopped by a field. In the distance I could see a small table for two set up, candles adorning the table.

           “You did all of this for me?” I asked when we approached the table. I looked at what we’d be eating and saw he had made my favourites.

           “You’re my princess, and I wanted to show you that.” We said casual, but neither of us really meant it, did we? I couldn’t help the smile I wore the entire night, looking across the table to see the man I was falling in love with without even realizing it.

           “Here, let’s get your party on.” Hoseok placed a red solo cup filled with who knows what in my hand. I thanked him and tried my best to forget everything.

           The next morning I could feel the headache before I even opened my eyes. The night came back to me in flashes as I tried to piece together how I could have gotten so drunk. It wasn’t until I felt the bed move as a body next to me rolled over that I wondered just how drunk I was. “God what a night.” He groaned as he opened his eyes and smiled at me. Park Jimin was in my bed staring at me with a smile. “Good morning, angel.” I chuckled at the nickname Hoseok gave me our first year here. We were paired up for a dancing project and he told me I resembled an angel to him when I danced.

           “Good morning, Jimin.” I smiled back as the night continued to return in flashes. The images of rough kisses and tossed clothes hit me suddenly. I had to clench my legs as I thought of how the rest of the progressed, suddenly wanting to feel it all again while sober. Hoseok was right, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

           “About last night..” Jimin started as he slowly started to sit up, the blanket falling from his bare torso, allowing me a good look, a look I’d remember.

           “Want to do it again?” He looked at me with wide eyes before smiling and moving closer to me.

           “I thought you’d never ask.”

           Being with Jimin felt easy. I didn’t have to open up about past heartbreak or try to be a proper lady. We didn’t pretend that we were anything more than fuck buddies. There was no fancy dinners or empty promises. Just take out and crumpled bed sheets. “Let me watch you at dance practice today.” He said as he hovered over me, placing a kiss on my nose. I pushed him off of me as I stood to get ready.

           “And why would I do that, Park Jimin?” I made my way to my closet, not bothering to cover my currently nude body with a blanket, it wasn’t anything he hasn’t seen.

           “Because Hoseok goes on and on about how hot you look while dancing.” He was soon behind me, his hands on my shoulders as he kissed the back of my neck and slowly made his way around to my lips, bringing me in for a deep, needy kiss.

           “Really, Hoseok called me hot?” I didn’t believe that for a second. Hoseok flirted with me in the past, that’s not something we’ve kept a secret. But not once in the three years I’ve known him has he ever called me hot. Stunning maybe. Ethereal definitely. Especially when it came to my dancing. The only person I knew who could beat me in a contest was him, but it would be pretty close.

           “Okay so he didn’t say hot per se, but the way he describes you, I need to see it for myself.” I could see the pleading in his eyes and decided to cave to his puppy dog eyes just this one time. What’s the worst that could happen?

           “Just this once, but you’re buying food after.” His smile widened as he quickly agreed and helped me pick out an outfit for practice.

           I could feel his eyes on me the entire time I was dancing. It almost made me stumble a few times, but I was able to keep my composure as if he wasn’t even there. By the end of practice, Jimin was jumping up from his spot, spewing out about how good it was, trying his best not to let Hoseok in on the fact that we’ve been sleeping together.

           “I told you, she looks like an angel!” Hoseok added onto the nonsense that Jimin was spewing. I couldn’t help but laugh and roll my eyes at the two of them. “Don’t laugh when you know it’s the truth. You could make it in the big leagues, I just know it.” I playfully slapped him.

           “As much as I love the two of you complimenting me, and trust me I love it, Jimin promised dinner.” I smiled over at him to see he was already smiling at me with a look in his eyes that reminded me of Taehyung.

           Six months. We both said it would be casual and that no strong feelings would be involved, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t think we’d last this long. I could do casual for a couple of months, but we’ve been together for six months now. Every time I look at him, he’s looking at me with a look in his eyes that reminds me of a lovesick child. It’s the same look I give him, I’m sure.

           “Why are you looking at me like that?” I let out a little laugh as I covered my face. He reached over and took my hands from my face.

           “Because you’re so beautiful.” He kissed me before I could say anything. My heart was threatening to beat right out of my chest, and I could swear he could hear it, but he didn’t say anything. The words were burning in my throat, dying to come out, but I knew that would ruin everything. So I swallowed them down and pretended I didn’t fall absolutely head over heels in love with him.

           “Should we text Namjoon to join us? I don’t want him to feel left out.” I pouted at Hoseok and Jimin. Since I met the two of them at the party a month ago, I’d actually grown quite close to them, Jimin more so than Namjoon for obvious reasons, but I’ll be forever grateful to have the two of them in my life.

           “As if I didn’t already text him.” Hoseok jokingly rolled his eyes. “I know you love him more than us.”

           “Not true and you know that Hobi!” I said as I jumped on his back. His hands immediately wrapped around my legs to stop me from falling. “No one loves me the way you do so you’re my favourite.” I kissed his cheek as I usually do. I could sense the difference in atmosphere after looking over to Jimin who was staring at us with an unreadable expression on his face.

           “Still offended I wasn’t invited to watch dance practice.” Namjoon huffed when we met him at the restaurant. I pouted up at him and told him he could come to the next one if he wanted to.

           “How did you even convince Jimin to buy you dinner?” Hoseok asked, looking between the two of us. “I’ve known him for years and he’s never offered to buy me anything!” I stifled a laugh at that fact.

           “I’m cuter than you, what did you expect?” I joked, wrapping my arms around the arm Jimin had resting on the table. He looked over to me with a wide smile and placed his hand on mine.

           “Damn I see how it is. I’m not a pretty girl so I got to buy my own food.” Hoseok shook his head.

           “Don’t even pretend like you don’t always buy my food too!” I joked back, unwrapping myself from Jimin as my food was placed in front of me. Just as I was about to dig in, I heard a familiar voice from behind me and I immediately lost my appetite.

           “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.” He exclaimed with a wide smile and a pretty girl tucked into a side, a different girl than the one at the party. She glared at me with a look that could kill, but I didn’t pay her any mind as my eyes couldn’t move from Taehyung, standing there dressed in all black looking like some sort of god.

           “Well I’m here.” I replied, trying my best to hide the hurt in my voice. I couldn’t let him know he hurt me.

           “I think it’s time we go our separate ways. This already went on too long.” I blinked back my tears and gave him a smile, telling him I agree.

           “We said casual. A one-year anniversary is too serious.” I chuckled as I took a sip of my coffee. “This was fun though. You were a good distraction when I needed it.” He chuckled and shook his head.

           “Yeah, you were too. I’ll see you around.” He stood from the table and I watched as he walked away. I just sat there, staring in the direction he left long after he was out of view. After I finished my coffee, I went back to my apartment and stared at the gift on my table. Something I found that would have been perfect for Taehyung. I wasted my money even though I knew it was all casual. I fell in love with a man who didn’t know what love was.

           “Why are you standing there like we’re going to ask you to join us?” Hoseok snapped, anger prevalent on his features and I couldn’t help but smile at my best friend.

           “Awe come on, we’re friends, right Y/N?” A small laugh came out of my mouth when he said that.

           “We’ve never been friends, Taehyung.” Namjoon and Jimin seemed to put two and two together that Taehyung was the ex from the party a month ago. I could see it in the way their faces changed from confusion to anger. Jimin wrapped his arm around me.

           “Should we get this to go, love?” He asked me softly. I looked away from Taehyung and met Jimin’s eyes. He seemed to always have an unreadable emotion in his eyes, and I just wish I could read him as easily I can Hoseok.

            “No that’s alright, babe.” I played along with the prettiest smile I could muster while Taehyung’s eyes were still on me. “I’m not going to let irrelevant people ruin our good day.” I looked up at Taehyung who rolled his eyes.

           “So much for not having time for relationships.” He muttered just loud enough for the table to hear as he walked away, the girl asking him a million questions. I chuckled at his annoyed expression and the way he all but pushed her away.

           “You did not tell us that the notorious Kim Taehyung was your ex.” Namjoon said when the two were out of earshot. Jimin removed his arm from around me and just stared at his food while he ate.

           “Not something I like to brag about, Joonie. Besides, it wasn’t anything serious.” Hoseok scoffed at that.

           “One year isn’t casual, Y/N.”

           “You dated him for a year?!” Jimin basically shouted at Hoseok’s words. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

           “We weren’t really dating, guys. Really it’s not a big deal.”

           “It was a big enough deal that we had to babysit you at that party.” Namjoon added and I rolled my eyes and just let the conversation drop. It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about. Falling in love with Taehyung wasn’t my finest moment, and I’d rather forget we ever had something.

           A few days after the incident at the restaurant, I found myself sitting at a café, my drink sitting on the table getting colder as the minutes passed. He was always good at making me wait, and I began to wonder if he was even showing up. After sitting there for almost 30 minutes, I reached for my drink and got up to leave. “Hey! Sorry I’m late.” He ran in, out of breath and sat down across from me.

           “It’s not new. I should just stop showing up on time.” I said as monotone as I could.

           “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ll try to be better; I promise.” I furrowed my brows at his words. “I want to try again. I miss us. I was stupid to think things could be casual with you.” I crossed one leg over the other and sat back in my chair, my thoughts a jumbled mess. “I know you’re dating that guy, but I also know that you still love me.” I thought back to Jimin and how he distanced himself from me these last few days. I tried texting him and calling him, but it seemed as if he was ignoring me, ever since he found out about Taehyung.

           “I love Jimin.” I told him simply and went to stand when my eyes met Jimin’s, sitting across from a girl who seemed completely oblivious to her surroundings. Taehyung turned to see what I was staring at.

           “That asshole.” Taehyung seethed, standing from the table and storming towards Jimin. Jimin stood before Taehyung reached him but that didn’t stop Taehyung from grabbing the collar of his shirt and yelling at him. I knew I needed to stop him before anything else happened, but I was frozen in spot. The other patrons looked on, wondering what was happening at this usually quiet café. It wasn’t until Taehyung threw a punch that I was running over to them and throwing myself in between them.

           “Stop!” I yelled as I put my hands on Taehyung’s chest. He looked down at me and his features softened. “It’s okay, Tae. Jimin and I aren’t dating.”

           “What?” He asked, looking between the two of us. “But you just said you love him.” I nodded and took one of Tae’s hands.

           “I did say that. Let’s go somewhere else to talk.” I turned towards Jimin and the girl he was with. “I’m so sorry. I’ll call you later, please answer.” Jimin just looked at me with tears in his eyes, but I wrote that off as pain from the punch Tae threw. Taehyung and I walked out of the café hand in hand, and it brought me back to the days we were okay.

           “Tae can you stop walking so fast.” I said when we were outside. Just as he stopped, I felt another hand wrap around my wrist, and by the way Tae’s eyes widened, I knew it was Jimin before I turned around. When I looked up at him, he let go of my wrist and cupped my face before pressing his lips to mine. The kiss was different than the others we shared. It wasn’t needy or demanding. It was soft and filled with passion. Butterflies filled my stomach, and I couldn’t help but kiss back, my hand dropping from Taehyung’s.

           “I love you.” He whispered, hands still cupping my face. I said the words to piss Taehyung off, knowing I couldn’t allow myself to fall more in love with him. I couldn’t get back with him knowing how fast he moved on. Deep down, I knew he just wanted me back because he couldn’t have me. Because I wasn’t letting myself be hurt over his absence.

           But as I stared into Jimin’s eyes, I thought back to all the moments we shared, in and out of my bedroom. How he never thought twice about protecting me, without even knowing the truth. The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. The obvious jealousy at me and Hoseok that I wrote off as awkwardness about Hoseok not knowing about us. How he would always bring me snacks when he knew something was wrong, even at 3 in the morning. He was always there, little by little kicking Taehyung out of my heart.

           “Please don’t go to him.” Jimin added when I didn’t say anything, his hands dropping from my face. I turned towards Taehyung, seeing he was just standing there, fuming as he watched us.

           “How can you say you love her when you were just in there with another girl?” He yelled, taking a step towards Jimin. I stepped in between them, hoping Taehyung wouldn’t throw another punch.

           “How can you say you love her when you’ve been sleeping around since you guys broke up?” Taehyung scoffed and rolled his eyes.

           “You don’t know anything.”

           “You’re right, I don’t. But I know you don’t deserve her!”

           “And you do?”

           “Can you two just shut up!” I yelled. “Tae, I don’t want to be with you. There’s nothing between us anymore.”

           “You can’t seriously tell me you’re choosing him.” Taehyung took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest.

           “My love life has nothing to do with you, not anymore. Jimin, can you please take me home.” I looked up at his bruised face and he nodded, draping an arm across my shoulders and took me away from Tae. “Thank you.” I whispered as we walked. “And I’m sorry. I never thought he’d act like that.”

           “I meant it you know. I love you.” He was already looking down at me when I looked up.

           “Me too.” I didn’t when I said those words to Taehyung, but I did now.

[fragileizywriting]

C'est la Sea

pairing: Luka / Marinette word count: 9,111 chapter: 1/2 rating: E summary: There’s a mermaid in his bed. A pouty, pretty mermaid on his bed. “Why are you wrapped up like a sushi roll, sweetheart?” “It’s cold,” Marinette shivers, just to prove her point. She collects an edge of the blanket to cover herself back up and make a bigger mess out of the covers, trying to tuck in her tail. “Why is it colder on land than it is on sea? How are you able to withstand this much frost, Luka? Even my scales are starting to go stiff.”

AO3 | Chapter One | Chapter Two

I just can't stop myself from writing Lukanette...

Written for my lovely and beautiful friend @valiantlyjollynightmare !!! Your mermaid AU is so wonderfully written and it gives me so many feels that I had to get the mermaid fever out. Please enjoy!!!

Life is simple and stagnant on land and it goes like this.

Wake up. Put on clothes. Find breakfast somewhere in the tiniest kitchen he’s ever been a witness to. It’s compact to the point that it’s hysterical, and it would probably fit someone of normal size. She’d fit in the kitchen just nicely, because things are about her height and eye level, but he has to crouch in order to see inside the fridge. Why are things so small?

Either way, after breakfast he leaves the house and goes to class.

And the classes are mind-numbing, and repetitive, and after the longest chapter of marine ichthyology he almost sleeps through, he’s on his way to find his friends. He’s made a couple of friends for the few months he’s been around, and tries to socialize with them after most of his morning classes have finished, and attempts to enjoy their company before the second block of afternoon classes happen. His friends are kind, and also in the same field as him, so they’ve mostly come close out of the nature of being in mutual classes, but they’re not anyone he’s really gotten close to.

So he’ll eat lunch with them, at some point. Start his next block of classes, and try his best not to roll his eyes at the casual inconsistencies referenced in the slideshow. Find his friends again, if any are available after class, and eat dinner at some point. Walk home, and politely decline any and all attempts to hang out after they’re finally done for the day— after all, everyone knows that he’s extremely busy studying for his classes.

They ask about her often, ask if he’ll be going to visit her for whatever break they have that gives them a sliver of days between classes, asking for pictures of her and well wishes. They ask about her students, ask if she’ll be getting anything for teacher appreciation week that’s common in Canada, and ask about how his life and family are back there before he transferred.

He makes up lies as he goes, of course, because he’s never actually been to Canada and certainly has never been to Quebec, but it seems to be working. His vague knowledge about the West Atlantic works in his favor because none of his classmates are from there, nor have they ever gone themselves. His friends mean well, knowing the feeling of longing when it comes to missing another person, and always offer condolences to the transfer student who seems to be a fish out of water in a new country with a funny Canadian accent, but they aren’t aware of the true nature of his relationship with her.

They know that he’s married. Human customs are similar to his, and the gold band on his left ring finger is a clear sign. Some people he’s met over the past couple of months have shied away and lost interest in him when they’d looked down to see that he never takes the ring off— he doesn’t hold it against them. His friends speculate about how she manages to handle the long-distance without him, but they have no idea just how hard it actually is.

Because they don’t know about the bond fever.

The fever that makes it harder and harder to breathe without her.

Every moment not thinking of her is just a distraction. Every moment not being next to her is biding time. Food tastes bland, music sounds wonky, and all his body wants to do is move. Staying still will make him curl up and stagnate for the rest of his days, and if he wants to leave this part of his life as fast as possible, he can’t afford to stop moving.

So, he’ll arrive home after school, and check up on the coral and fish in his tank to see if everyone in there is fine and not having a turf war without his knowledge. He’ll attempt to have a conversation with his fish, and feed them until they complain, because he’s never gotten the hang of actually taking care of pets. He’ll spin his ouroboros as he continues to waffle between staying and powering through, or the second option of leaving everything behind and dropping everything in favor of her. Work out to get rid of feelings of loneliness— of this horrible, aching bond fever that grips his heart enough to squeeze and hurt and make him regret ever turning to the surface in the first place.

He’ll take the scenic route, along the shore, looking over the ocean he knows and loves dearly. The sun will set over the sea as he takes a break when the buildup of lactic acid in his body gets too painful. It’ll take him hours, probably, of hard running down by the water, but it’ll be enough to get him to stop thinking about her for even a smidge.

Take a shower, afterwards, and making absolute-positive sure that his ouroboros is safely and securely wrapped around his wrist, lest he loses his sea legs— and try to talk to his fish again to get a conversation. Try to finish his homework before passing out asleep on his bed.

Sometimes he remembers to pull the bedsheets up on him. But most of the time he falls asleep in whatever position he’s laid himself down onto the bed, waking up with his arms and legs facing all the wrong way and the alarm on his phone blaring at him to wake up. He wakes up stiff, and sore, but there’s barely any time to sit back and relax before his day starts all over again.

Rinse.

Wash.

Repeat.

Over and over until the days glaze and mesh in his head.

He’s tired— the fish are his only true company, for now, and they rarely talk to him unless they’re begging for food. Sometimes they have a conversation with him when he really gets personal and deep with them, but they don’t really offer much advice, other than the occasional idea to spice up his diet and take a new route to school.

There’s nothing that can get him out of this slump. Nothing above land, anyway. Some days, on the weekends when he has enough time to, he opens the windows that box his mattress as well as the windows in the living room, and lets the salty breeze fly in through the whole houseboat— indulges in the idea of being back home with her— before he begrudgingly faces back to the stacks and stacks of homework piled on his desk.

It’ll be worth it. Just a year and a half left. The ring on his finger is proof enough of that. The bond fever may hurt, and may try to push him to go home, but he knows that she’ll be upset with him if he doesn’t finish school. She’ll probably shove him back up here herself, with her pouting and determined face. She’s docile, but bull-headed, and sometimes the storms in her eyes are as terrifying as the sea he’s from, and he’s certain that she won’t be satisfied until he has that diploma in his hand.

So, he puts his bag down by the door, kicks off his shoes, deadbolts the door behind him, and goes hunting for anything in his fridge that is available. He’s hungry, and he’s far more metabolic in this form than in his normal one, something about being on land just makes him hungrier— and nothing is safe from him when it comes to food.

His houseboat is about the size of a clam, the kitchen itself smaller than a pearl, but the ceiling is tall enough so that he doesn’t have to keep his head down whenever he walks around, so he can’t exactly complain— even when he opens the door to his fridge the size of a child, there’s nothing but a lettuce head that is definitely more white than green, a small box of blueberries he buys every time he makes eye contact with it in the store and thinks of her, and his leftover carton of eggs. The box of blueberries is full, still, and he’s convinced that he leaves it in the fridge until it rots just in case she ends up showing up and wants her favorite food.

But…

Life is simple, and stagnant on land, and he’s forgotten to do groceries this week.

Rinse, wash, and repeat.

He makes quick work of making the saddest scrambled eggs he could possibly produce in his lifetime, using up all of the leftover eggs— six of them, and he won’t be able to regret the amount of food he’s eating until he wakes up tomorrow with absolutely nothing to eat— and proceeds to bin the shells immediately. He eats over the sink, a utensil in one hand and the handle of the pan in the other, spooning and chasing runny eggs into his mouth, barely paying attention to the flavor.

He’s famished. And it’s not like he’d even be able to taste the flavor, anyway, from how bad his heart hurts. Bond fever is a finicky thing.

At least he remembered to throw the eggshells away in the proper place, instead of letting them clog up the sink.

He’d compost them, if he had any plants to take care of— but that’s always been her department, not his. The walls of his one-bedroom one-bathroom boat are sparse and empty— simply just a bed with a comfortable duvet and blue sheets, his tank full of fish that don’t offer enough company, a desk with some shelves to study at, lined with textbooks, and a wobbly table to eat at. He’d splurged on the extra desk— he could’ve just used the eating table— but knew it was probably better to keep his school papers and food away from each other. Besides, the back left leg of the table definitely looks like it’s about to cave at any point. It’s why he’s started just eating standing up and over the sink.

But she would never let him live like this.

It’s a clean house, and everything has its place, but it’s barren. Almost as if he doesn’t really live here.

And to be honest, he doesn’t. Physically, he spends most of his time here, but— bond fever makes him completely and totally disoriented. Mentally and emotionally he is nowhere near land, but rather in her arms, away from this simple and bland house.

But if she were here… truly here, instead of a fleeting moment…

She would decorate the walls with paint. Put up shelves. Print out photos, and frame them, because she’s enamored with the idea of ink and stains and items that permanently stain other things. She’d taken up to painting quite well, the last time— buying a selection of beginner’s acrylic gouaches in many different colors, and had set to work painting for the first time in her life. The world had exploded onto the canvases. Boats, sunrises, shores from distant islands, a turbulent and salty sea— she’d painted like she was taking a photograph and was developing it right onto the canvas.

He wishes he had the paintings with him now. Anything and everything to keep him company— any remembrance of her is such a blessing. He’ll take it all, if he can. Somedays, the ring on his finger just isn’t enough to keep his heart from hurting. He’ll catch sight of a bolt of ruffled pink fabric in a store window that is so glossy and sheer and delicate that he’ll find himself spinning his ring nonstop, dreaming of being together with her again.

Just a year and a half…

She’d line the shelves with rocks. Trinkets. Keychains from cities they’d gone to together, braided knots, and beautiful jewelry. And how could he forget the plants upon plants she’d shove into every square inch of the place, to the point where the houseboat would be a living and breathing creature from all of the greenery? Sunflowers— peonies— roses— lilacs— geraniums— tulips— every flower she could possibly find at a flower shop would somehow make it onto a flat surface in the houseboat.

This houseboat is empty without her. He spins the ring on his finger, thinking to himself about her— wishing and longing to see her. Just a year and a half more. He can visit on holidays, if he can afford it— but this isn’t just for him. It’s for her, too.

He flicks the light on in his room after washing the dishes, in the process of taking off his shirt, getting ready to try talking to the fish today in the far corner, the furthest away from his full-sized mattress, before giving in to go on a run along the docks. He almost throws his shirt onto the bed— when— well.

That’s when he notices the mermaid on his bed.

The sleeping mermaid on his bed.

She’s dozing off— hidden under his blanket, the mass of blue covers pulled tight around her naked shoulders. One of her pale arms has escaped from the mess she’s made of the fabric, and it hangs off the bed— steam rising softly off of her skin like she’s slowly being cooked, matching ring glinting in the light of the lamp on his nightstand. His eyes widen at the sight of her— the slow and soft drag of her tail fins against the floor as she inhales and exhales, because even curled up she can’t fit all of her on the mattress. She’s never been considered large, not proportionately, but the tail fins are long and delicate, and the mattress is far too small to fit the both of them if he were in his normal form too.

Pink, shimmery and translucent fins flutter as if caught by a slow breeze— petal-like in shape and it always feels silky against his fingertips whenever he’s touched her in the past, and today it looks no different. He follows the line of her fins back up to her tail that disappears underneath the comfortable blanket, where she’s wrapped herself to keep warm from the stale and stagnant air that permeates the room. He’s always liked the temperature around him to be colder, because of how he grew up, but she’s never been able to handle the slight freeze unless she’s been charmed, the little reef-dweller. Either charmed or wrapped up so tightly around him in order to soak up his body heat, nearly squeezing him to death. He sleeps with an eel of a woman, whenever they’re together, completely and totally reluctant to ever let him go.

Like now.

She’s here.

Here.

Strangling the blanket around her shoulders to keep the cold away from her.

His heart squeezes, and he finds himself on his knees, not exactly kneeling on the mattress but rather the floor just in front of her— gently parting the blanket enough to locate her other arm. She hums at the back of her throat when the cold air reaches and pebbles her porcelain skin— face pinching softly at the cold— before she blinks awake when he whispers her name in order to rouse her.

He’s always loved her blue eyes. Especially when they look at him, shining and shimmering like diamonds. “Mmmm?”

“Hi,” He checks her ears for her own magical charm. They’re there, and safely secured on her ear lobes, two perfectly beautiful pink pearls. They had been wedding gifts to her from her job at the school, that many of the parents had chipped in to get her a charm that would be able to withstand long periods of time outside of the sea, and he’s never been so grateful as now to see her wear them. “How long have you been here for?”

She’s always been a slow riser when she wakes up, so the first few seconds of her being conscious again are routinely docile and sweet, and today is no different. Her face softens the moment she recognizes where she is and who she’s looking at, a certain sweetness in her eyes that makes his heart hurt. “Luka? Oh, oh— Luka—”

She latches onto him tightly, pulling him close by her arms around his neck and shoulders with a happy noise. She smells of the ocean, even though she’s dry— her soft black hair just as silky, and just as long as it’s always been. It spills between his fingers as he combs through it, almost liquid on the web of his fingers and down his wrist, and he spends a moment or two just basking in her warmth, basking in the way she sighs against him. She kisses the closest skin available to her, which seems to be his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, and his bicep— smiling happily up at him when he pulls away enough to look at her in the eyes.

“Marinette— Marinette— I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Her eyes look glassy with tears. “Your fish told me you would be home later— why are you here so early? I thought I had time to surprise you and greet you at the door.”

“You must’ve slept for too long,” He noses at the shell of her ear. “This is about the time I get home every day. But little pearl, what are you doing here? Did you travel safely? Don’t get me wrong, please— I’m so thankful— but when did you show up? No injuries? It’s not a holiday at home, I don’t think, is it?”

“I’m okay. Everything’s okay. No one saw me, and no one tried fishing for me. I just couldn’t keep waiting for you to come back,” She hums. Marinette’s always been a singer, ever since they met for the first time. Always a tune in her voice, always singing and humming away like a never-ending record player. “I’ve missed you so much, Luka, you have no idea— so I just decided that today was enough waiting. I dropped everything off and told my parents that I needed to see you— you, my darling sky.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He kisses her. And then again. And then again. And again. He keeps doing it until it hurts to not breathe— but even then, he doesn’t really find the desire to pull away. After all, this is much easier than what he’s dealt with for the past year. “Every day, my heartache just keeps getting worse— this is horrible. How are we supposed to keep this up for another year?”

“And I thought the wedding would’ve been the hard part of all of this— turns out that the bond is just as real as they say.” She giggles as she pulls him closer. He leans over her, wrapping an arm around the smallest part of her waist, resting his open palm on her upper back to support her as he lays her back down. She’s handsy— he doesn’t blame her— brushing her fingertips on all the skin available to her, making an unsatisfied noise when she reaches his jeans. “Take these off?”

Ah. Lovely Marinette. Always so handsy and desperate for close contact— as if he’s any better. He hasn’t seen her in so long, he’s seconds from stopping the pleasantries and letting her know just how much he’s actually missed her. “But—”

“You’ve never been shy before.” She clicks her tongue with a silly little eye roll. She traces his tattoo on his arm, a small smile on her face, following the compass rose’s north tip up his arm. She makes it to the boat with seven sails, before looking up at him rather confused. “There’s nothing you haven’t already shown me— I’ve seen every single centimeter of you and every last scale. Unless— uhm— has something changed?”

“No, nothing has changed— relax that worry in your eyes.” He laughs, and can’t help himself when he kisses her again, slow enough to distract her as he pulls his jeans off, leaving his boxers behind. Her eyes blow wide at the sight of him naked, save for the jade ouroboros around his wrist and the band of his underwear. He hopes it isn’t inside out. “I just meant that I’ve barely been able to look at you, and I know you won’t let me go until it’s tomorrow if I let you have your way. You’re hidden underneath the blanket— let me look at you first before your tail disappears. Why are you wrapped up like a sushi roll, sweetheart?”

“It’s cold,” She shivers, just to prove her point, attempting to pull a fast one on him and reaching for the waistband of his boxers before he snags her wrist with a laugh. Thin and soft shoulders curl underneath his palms in an attempt to stop heat from escaping, and she collects an edge of the blanket to cover herself back up and make a bigger mess out of the covers, locks of her hair spilling over the blanket, pooling to where her waist should be. She tries to tuck in her tail with mixed results. “Why is it colder on land than it is on sea? How are you able to withstand this much frost, Luka? Even my scales are starting to go stiff.”

“Reef-dweller,” He grins.

“Yes, yes, continue to make fun of you poor wife who cannot contain heat because of biology. But you don’t have your scales on you right now, you sea serpent.” She pouts. “I should be much more suited for this cold than you should be, right now.”

He guides her burritoed form closer with a warm smile. Her fins flutter, delicate and sweet, as he pulls her close enough for her to rest part of her tail on his lap as he gently reaches for the edges of the blanket again. “It isn’t actually that cold. You’re just losing heat so you can get your sea legs, remember?”

“Unfortunately, I’m starting to remember the hard way. Stars, I keep forgetting how uncomfortable the transformation is. Maybe I’m doing it on purpose.”

“Let me see you,” He noses at her jawline.

“Only if you promise to warm me up after,” She teases, and she actually manages to snap his waistband against his hip, making him hiss at the sensation. She giggles, kicking up her tail delightfully at the noise he makes. “Please, sky?”

They’re politely ignoring the way he’s starting to fill out his underwear already at the sight of her. It’s instinctual, of course, because of bonds and magic and, well, it is Marinette that’s looking at him like she’s famished. “Of course. You don’t even have to ask.”

Steam billows from the opened pocket of the blanket the moment he unwraps her and finally takes a good look at her. Sweet stars, he’s missed her so much, and he shows her just how much by touching her everywhere. She shivers under his fingertips as he traces the small scales that line her chest and stomach. They’re starting to retreat and fade, now that the drying process is finishing up, but she’s still completely smooth and too scaled to have her human characteristics just yet.

“You’re shivering, my sweet pearl.”

“Yes, but— your hands are so warm,” She sighs.

There’s a gentle swell to her chest, hidden beneath the neat rows of hazy pink scales, but the swell isn’t as much as what she has in her human form. He’d learned early on, when they’d first tried their magic charms and had gained their sea legs, that he loves all versions of her body— including when her chest fills his palms with such softness he feels like weeping, with pink peaks that make her sing whenever he tweaks them. Everything about her is delicate, like the world’s most fragile flower.

But very soon, he’s going to end up with an entirely naked woman on his bed instead of a mermaid. Both are lovely ideas. He’ll be able to watch her wobble on her sea legs for an hour or two before she relearns her balance, and have to guide her by her naked hips if she wants to leave the room. She’ll probably want to stretch her legs, and take a turn about the very small boathouse, but they probably won’t be able to leave the house today. That look in her eyes is telling.

As if he’s any better.

He traces the rows of scales down her stomach, the scales getting thicker and larger as he reaches just about where her tail technically begins at the hips. Her arms, too, have patches of translucent pink scales that are starting to disappear in favor of just skin, and he follows the long line of her tail down with a palm.

He skirts over the area that he knows she so desperately wants to guide him to, gaining a brief huff and pout from her as he instead grazes along her scales all the way to her long and beautiful curtain fin. His touches are soft, and barely noticeable— but it’s enough to get her to twitch.

He starts to tickle her.

“Luka,” She slaps her tail on the mattress in an attempt to make him stop tickling her, and her hand grabs for his— but her laughter is so contagious he can hardly stand it himself. “What— ha— what are you— oh, stars— d-doing?”

“I haven’t seen my wife in almost a year,” He gives her a smile, laughing at the way she squirms uselessly under his hands. “Can I not touch her?”

“You can touch— but—” Such sweet laughter! “But why— oh! Why touch me there when I’m ticklish?”

“Oh? Would you rather me touch you higher?”

“Yes,” She giggles. “Oh, please, I know exactly where I’d like you to touch me. But buy me dinner first, at least.”

“I’ll do more than that, sweetheart.” He licks his lips, watching the way she shifts to prop herself on her elbows. She blows her bangs out of her face when it starts to fall across her lashes, looking at him with sparkling beautiful eyes. She’s so pretty. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all of that, but his love for her has never diminished in the first place. Sweet beautiful melody. “What is it that my lovely girl wants?”

“Hm…”

“Make it count, of course. Your tail is going to disappear soon.”

“How about: you tell me that you want me like this, sky,” She peeks at him from under her lashes.

He wants her in any form, this won’t be too hard. “I want you.”

She’s feeling cheeky, isn’t she? That smile is proof alone. “Tell me you need me.”

“As if I have to say that.” But she prods him with a cute pout when he rolls his eyes, and he acquiesces: “I need you.”

“Tell me you can’t live without me.”

“I’m miserable without you. So miserable.” He means it. And she knows it. “I don’t want to keep doing this long-distance anymore. I’ve never been so miserable.”

She tilts her head to the side with another hum, looking around the room. “Tell me you’ll let me decorate our home— it’s so bland in here. Where are all the flowers? The music?”

“Please decorate—” His brain flatlines. “Wait, decorate? This house? This— our— house? Home?”

“Surprise!” Another peal of laughter escapes from her, and it follows through her body to a delicate flick of her tail.

His eyes widen. “You— you’re staying?”

“Yes!” She nods, shimmying on her elbows as she grins. “Yes yes yes!”

“But— Marinette— you—” Sweet stars, she’s staying. She’s staying. How could he ever want her to go? The love of his life, the jewel in his heart, and his wife— staying for longer than a few fleeting moments when she can afford to slip away from home? Oh— oh— his heart could burst.

“I can’t stay away from you.” She confesses, cupping his hand and kissing the gold band on his finger. She balances her upper weight on her other elbow, but doesn’t seem to struggle under her own weight. “I’m tired of being away. The bond is making me miserable, Luka, and I’ve had just about enough of it. So, I decided to make it easy on the both of us.”

“But—”

She winks. “I know.”

“And—”

“Yes, that too.”

“Also, your job—”

“I know,” Her laughter is so sweet. He can’t even finish his sentences without her answering as if they’re on the same wavelength— oh— he’s missed this woman so much. “I know, sky. I know. But all of it will be there still when we go back next year. My students won’t go to the next teacher until five years from now. I’ve already talked to the other teachers about me disappearing off with you for a year.”

She… she would really be willing to give up everything, just like that, just for him? Her students, her daily work, her desire to teach? Her desire to nurture? All of it, just to be with him? “I can’t do that to you, little pearl. I know how important your students are to you— I can’t ask you to stay away from them. Maybe I should just go home with you, instead.”

“Luka, honestly! You’re not doing this to me, I want to stay with you— and you better finish this degree of yours. You’ve worked too hard! You know why I couldn’t come with you in the first place, but a year has changed and things are better now, my parents got help from a new family that’s moved into the reef. We can afford a year away from home now, my sweet. A real year away. You know I get one year off to stay with my bond.”

“But that was only as soon as you get married— that was, sweet stars— it was eleven months ago.”

“And I never used it,” She informs him, as if he hadn’t also spent the last year lonely and miserable. “So it’s still viable. I told you, I already talked to the other teachers.”

“But our family—”

“—is completely and totally better off without me constantly sighing in their ears.” She shrugs with a soft smile. It’s a little difficult, given that she’s still propped up on her elbows, but she makes it work. “If I touched my ring one more time in front of my mother, she would’ve personally pushed me out of the ocean herself. Not to mention your mother, telling me that ‘it’s not good to leave your bond alone, lassie. Bonds need to be cultivated, lassie’. Two mothers pushing me up onto the docks, telling me to sleep easy for at least one night. Better me than your mother dragging you back home to deal with me and my nightmares.”

She looks thin. Thinner than usual for springtime, and her face definitely looks a little darker than usual. His poor Marinette, how could he have done this to her? But it’s not like he isn’t affected in the same way, either… all of those nightmares and dull days, wishing to see and hold her. “Have you been eating? You’re looking thin.”

Perhaps they shouldn’t keep trying to test the universal truths with their bond. They really need that year together, don’t they?

“Me? You look thin, Luka.” There’s a frown making its way to the edges of her lips. “Is there not enough food for you? When was the last time you ate?”

“Tuttering pearl,” He murmurs. “Always worrying about me.”

“With good reason to,” She pouts. “Of course I worry about you, sky. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn’t ask my husband if he’s okay? Not a very good one, right?”

“I’ve been eating okay. I eat more in this form.”

“You look pale, my sweet.”

“You’re not the only one who’s been having trouble,” He admits. “Life has been so stagnant without you that I’m kind of just running like a machine. The days are all a blur, and it’s gotten to where I don’t even remember days unless I have a test or homework due that day. I already knew that university was miserable, but— ah, little pearl— don’t cry. It’s alright.”

Marinette’s going to burst into tears. “How stupid of me, leaving you alone.”

“No, sweetheart. You didn’t leave me alone.”

“You’re not as healthy as you usually are,” She hushes a bit when he kisses her, but it’s not enough. “I should’ve been here.”

“No. No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who left, and I shouldn’t have done that to you. To us.”

“I should’ve come with you.”

“I should’ve waited.” He kisses her again. And again. And again. “I should’ve waited just a little longer to come back up here.”

“You would’ve missed the scholarship if you had. Life could’ve waited for us back home— I should’ve come with you.”

Her tears taste like the ocean, too. “It’s okay, pearl.”

“Oh, sky,” Her eyes are so watery, even as he tries to calm her down with a gentle hand running down her scales. “What idiots we were.”

He tries for a smile. “Everyone told us this would happen.”

“They did,” She nods, sniffing into his palms as he cradles her face and wipes her lower eyelids free of tears. “They did, and we didn’t listen, and it’s cost us a whole year away from one another. How were we supposed to know it got this bad? It hurts to breathe without you.”

“I guess we were just supposed to listen to them,” He kisses her when she tilts her head up in an indication that she wants his lips on hers. He kisses her enough to make her eyes slip shut, and for her body to shiver as he reaches around her again to hold her at the waist. Sweet, sweet Marinette.

“Never again. Never ever again. I’m so thankful I’m here— I won’t let you go. I need you so much. Will you have me forever?”

There’s no need to ask. “Always. I did end up bonding with you, after all.”

She snorts, almost surprising herself with the noise. “A wise choice, you know. I’ve been told I’m very ‘agreeable’.”

Luka finds himself smiling. “Which parent said that?”

“Her child was impossible to console, every morning there was a new battle with this student. Every afternoon his mother would tell me that if no one ends up bonding with me by the following winter, she’ll start courting me herself, completely oblivious to the ring on my finger. She’s amazed at how easy I handle children, and I’m amazed she can just ignore the clear signs of me having bond fever for this long.”

“You’re perfect at your job,” They both laugh when he’s close enough to her to press his forehead onto hers. “But remember that you’re not the only one that wants to take care of their loved one. No more bond fever. I promise.”

“Definitely not. I’ll make sure to chase it out of our bodies on my own, if I have to.”

“Won’t stop until it’s gone?”

“Making up for the time we spent away,” She nods. “It might take us a little longer than normal, from how bad the fever’s gotten, but I don’t think you mind.”

“Greedy.” He grins. “How will I survive?”

She folds herself around him, encircling him as tightly as possible while still allowing him to move his arms. There’s genuine muscle behind the delicateness of her scales and fins— and while she can’t actually hurt his skin with her scales from how tough-skinned he is even in his human form, he is worried that she might accidentally hurt herself by how brittle and fragile they are. She’s still drying out, going through the process of getting her sea legs, meaning that her tail and fins aren’t as slippery as they usually are. “You’ve been captured, sky. No use trying to escape now.”

Their charms soak up most of the oils on their body, allowing them to fully dry out and gain human legs. Marinette is in the final moments of the transformation, which gives him about thirty more minutes of enjoying seeing his wife like she normally looks before she’s safely hidden amongst other humans.

But still, unbeknown to his wishes to see her completely laid flat, she continues to wrap around him, humming at the back of her throat as she soaks up his body heat, coiling around him like an eel. Cold little pearl. “Still freezing, my sweet?”

“I’m feeling a little better. I don’t think I’m losing any more body heat, but I’ll take any opportunity to be attached to you. I don’t want to let you go for the next ten days. Or weeks. Or months. What do you say to a whole year of us together in this bed?”

“We need to eat at some point.”

“I believe you said that there are delivery services available?” She hums. “I really liked pizza the last time. Do they make pizza with blueberries on them?”

“I’m not sure they do.”

“They should,” She makes a happy noise. “The taste would be sublime. Blueberries are so wonderful. Or how about blueberries and peaches on the pizza?”

“Humans would probably tell you that the pizza you’re craving is a crime.” His laughter is genuine, bubbling out of him at the idea of Marinette eating a slice of what humans consider revolting. “They don’t put fruit on them.”

“They’re missing out on flavors they never would’ve imagined.” She pouts.

“What are we going to do with your horrifying taste palette? You have the appetite of a sea-dweller. Are you sure you’ve lived your entire life in the reef?”

“All of my years, yes.” She giggles. “I don’t imagine I would be a very good sea-dweller. Much too cold down there.”

He smiles when a shiver travels down her tail at the thought of the water. “Oh, yes, how could I have forgotten that I promised to warm you up? Maybe I should cash that in now.”

A hand makes it to his boxers. She snaps his waistband with another version of her soft smiles and those wandering, glittering blue eyes, and, oh— it’s impossible for him to take off his underwear like this, with her tail completely wrapped around him like she’s a snake— but his wife is nothing short of persistent as she kisses his side. He shivers when her tongue sneaks against his skin, wet and moist, and he can feel himself involuntarily twitch his toes at the feeling. “Maybe I should warm you up instead, sky. You look like you’re having a rough time.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But—”

“You are hopelessly mistaken if you think I’m going to allow you to have free reign of my body before I’m able to enjoy the last sights of you like this.” Even as his toes continue to twitch with the way she mouths at his ribs. “You ravenous woman. You’re terrible at sharing, and I’ve missed you very much.”

“Oh, it’s not as if I can’t just take off my earrings and let you enjoy touching my scales some more.”

“You know what I mean,” He scrunches his nose. “Let me do this properly.”

“I’ll let you do whatever you’d like as long as I get to go first.” She tugs at the elastic. “Please? Just a few minutes, Luka? A decently sized amount of time to get my mouth on you?”

Oh, conniving mermaid. “I do not make deals with you. The last time I did, I ended up getting married to you.”

“As if that’s a bad thing!”

“I don’t regret it,” He shares a grin with her. “Definitely not. But you just have a way of convincing me to do things.”

“Oh, so I convinced you to marry me? Funny, I remember something about how you were convinced you were bad for me, but couldn’t help yourself but to keep trying to court me…” She giggles when he attempts to squeeze out of her grasp, rolling his eyes affectionately. “There’s no escaping, sky. Not with your sea legs, I’m afraid.”

It’s true. He is a lot stronger than her with his tail. With just about anything, really, because merfolk from the reefs are nothing compared to the ones out in the open sea with hardened skin and longer figures, but…

“This bed will break if I get rid of them,” He manages to get one of his legs out, much to her complaints. She’s far too dry for her to keep a genuine grip on him, poor thing. “Stretch out, little pearl. I’m curious to see how well you can last.”

“Will you take me like this?” She gasps, letting him unwrap her enough for his other leg to slip out from underneath her. “Oh, sky, yes please! I’m not sure—”

“We’ll do that next time. I have something else in mind.” Although he’s willing to try. Maybe when she isn’t on the cusp of transforming out of her tail, because that would take a little longer for them to find the best position— she’s always so small and tight as it is. It would be easier in water, of course, so that she’s in whatever position is more comfortable for her, but with his ouroboros on he breathes like a normal human. Sadly, he would probably drown himself.

Marinette would kill him.

A good way to go. But still killed and drowned all the same.

She’s still ticklish under his fingertips when he brushes over her scales again, but her cheeks are slowly pinking as they make eye contact. She’s not shy— definitely not. Honestly, she’s much more adventurous than him, in this aspect, but it’s been so long since they’ve been together, and he hopes that he remembers how to please her to the point she sings. Even though she’s excited, and he can tell by the way her fins twitch at the end of the bed, she mostly keeps still as he follows her scales back to where she’s wanted him to be from the very beginning.

Ah, there she is.

This spot is definitely not dry.

Soft, and full of slick, she opens gently to his prodding fingers with a sigh. Her nails are blunt, but they feel like little needles on his shoulders as she grips him, trying her best not to squirm and overwhelm him. Her body is tightly wound, almost hurtful, and even with the slick she’s not that easy to sink into down to the knuckle like he’d imagined. He hisses at how tight she is, feeling his cheeks heat and something stir at the base of his spine, panting as he hears her squelch as he pushes in more and more. “Why are you so tight, pearl?”

“I— oh— haven’t had much time to myself, the school keeps me so busy—” She makes a noise of contentment anyway, brushing her hair back and around her as he fingers her open. She’s a pretty sight, with her hair long and flat like ribbons near her waist. If he twists his finger this way… maybe she’ll… “And you know I don’t like doing it— oh, stars! Luka, yes, more of that—”

“Easy,” He grins, making sure she doesn’t squirm completely away from his hands. She wants to stay, she does, and he knows that, but she’s always too excited to keep still and let him finish. She wants all of it. She wants all of him, and always ends up rushing to the good parts instead of enjoying the moment. “Finish what you were saying, sweetheart.”

She huffs when he stills his finger, batting her tail along the end of the mattress. “I don’t like doing it alone, you know, and it’s been rather lonely doing it.”

“I know what you mean,” He fills in the silence between her panting, twisting his finger again and making her eyes roll as a groan leaves her.

She bites her lip. “I’d rather you help me out, it always feels so much better— oh— you’re just so good, sky.”

“Oh, am I?” He meets her gaze almost challengingly, slowing his fingers down enough to get a shine back into her hazing eyes. “So does that mean you thought about me?”

Does he really deserve that fin slap onto his shoulder? He would say no, but, there’s not much of an argument to be made when she rolls her eyes. “Of course I thought about you. What kind of ridiculous question is that?”

“Let me guess,” He tilts his head to the side, blinking at her with shaggy hair in his lashes. “Did you think about the last time we did it? How I’d made you sing for hours?”

“No— I mean, well, yes— but—” She moans.

He hums. “You almost woke up our neighbors with your sighs. Pretty little thing.”

“You know, I also thought about my husband hurrying up whenever he decided to finger me,” Her smile curls silly when all he does is laugh and continue to stall. Slicking his fingers against the soft and wet slit, only gently sinking in only to pull out again, making her mewl out. “I want to get you out of those boxers, damn this tail! Your cock is calling my name, I know it— if only I had the legs to catch you with, you’d see the summit of my desires.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that. A reef-dweller, trying to outmaneuver a deep-sea dweller.”

“You’re not as scary as you think, sky,” Her shoulders shake from laughter, and he retaliates by curling his fingers just so in order to get that whine back into her voice. “I’ll— oh my— h-have you know, I got over your differentness—”

“My ‘differentness’?” He grins, but she doesn’t elaborate.

“—within the first year of meeting you. Maybe even the first month— I knew from the moment your eyes turned into gold that I was going to marry you. Our friends were confused and terrified of it— but I knew that you’re nothing more than a guppy. And I knew it from the moment you scales changed colors to match the reef that I had found my eternal love.”

“Sweet,” He muses, trying his best not to blush. “But you are still no match for a deep-sea dweller, my love. They’re tougher than nails. The bullies of the merworld.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s true.” But she doesn’t make eye contact with him anymore, instead looking down at his boxers with a knowing look. His body stirs as she continues to look at him, wetting her lips with a slow drag of her tongue, enraptured by what she sees. “The ever scary deep sea, with their terrifying personalities and scary men who want nothing more than to please their wives.”

“And I, of course, wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Something in her switches, and her gaze snaps up to his. He looks at her shining eyes, watching them widen into a lovely shape as she whines at the back of her throat. “Let me have you, Luka, before I lose my mind from how much I need you.”

His finger goes back to making her sing. “I love it when you beg, sweetheart.”

“Ridiculous man,” She rolls her eyes but it almost feels forced as her face turns redder and redder. “Just— oh— watch out, sky, because once you’re done I’ll return the favor.”

She drags him closer for a kiss. He eases another finger into her, desperate to make the humming noise turn into a full-on shout, but he gets distracted by the way her tongue presses into his. Inquisitive, as usual, his pearl is frantic for him as she curls her tongue into his mouth, parting her own lips in a moan when he angles his head to the side and nips at her bottom lip with his teeth.

She’s alive under his fingers. Tight, yes— warmer than a furnace, too— she’s everything he loves and craves. He’ll chase the bond fever out of her, too, even if it takes him all night, but the way she sings praises of his fingers curling and uncurling in her as he works her open is a sign that it might not be long before his pearl is gushing over his fingers.

But the bond fever won’t be that easy to solve. They have a whole year to make up for, of course, but he’s certain that this is in the right direction. To hell with obligations of tomorrow, or even all of the groceries he knows that they have to go and get when he has her gasping and moaning from his actions— he hasn’t heard her sweet and moaning voice in months. It’s a sweet song that he’ll hold forever in his heart.

“Luka— Luka—” She purrs.

Or tries to, at least, since they’re outside of water and the sound doesn’t travel like it should. Regardless, it’s a rumbly and poetic noise that warms him all over, evidence that the strain in her shoulders is starting to lessen, and evidence that she’s relaxing completely. He almost straddles her, his knees on either side of her tail and careful not to step on her hair, pistoning his fingers in the way he knows will alleviate that curl in her spine.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” He could watch her come undone by him for the rest of his life. “Nothing in the world compares to you.”

Oh, and he knows she loves hearing him say that. Luka knows she’s the happiest when he pays attention to her and goads her with endless amount of praise. None of it is ever lies, or forced— which is probably the reason why she loves it so much.

As if to prove his point, slick squelches out of her as she sighs. She’s taking his two fingers so well, even as it’s a tight fit, even as her body attempts to push him out because his fingers are much bigger than what her body reasonably allows to penetrate her, but still, she’s doing so well— even her scales are shining in the lamplight from the amount of fluid she’s producing, and it makes the pink scales look all the more vibrant. “Sky— oh, please, sky—”

“Just a bit more,” He whispers. “I want to watch you just for a little longer. My darling. My wonderful and absolute darling.”

“Please—” She’s babbling a bit, leaning into his hand he has at her cheek, looking at him with those diamond blue eyes. “Please, Luka, please— oh—”

Oh, he loves it when she begs.

“Come for me?” He nips at her jaw and mouth. He’d bite and lick her at the chest if she had her sea legs, but there’s nothing but smooth scales to mouth over, and it would probably be best not to get any lacerations just because he couldn’t wait for a bit longer. “Be a dearest for me and come for me, little pearl.”

Her tail goes completely rigid when she does.

He feels his fingers get squeezed just as she throws her head back, and catches sight of her earrings starting to glow. He pulls his fingers out just as the magical charms release and stain her skin, and he blinks at the sight of beautiful cream-colored legs wrapped around his hips. Not to mention her pink slit, sticky from his help— he can’t stop himself from going back to her and using his fingertips up and down the sensitive flesh that has her twitching and mewling behind a hand.

“Oh! I— I forgot I’m more sensitive—” She flinches when he comes into contact with her clit. He rolls her flesh between two fingers, enjoying that cute face she makes, before— wait— are her thighs locking because she’s— “Luka— oh stars—”

“Twice back to back, pearl?” His eyes blow wide when she comes back from gasping and crying. “Oh, sweetheart.”

���Oh. I didn’t expect— oh.”

“Sweet Marinette. You’re so perfect, just like usual.” He murmurs as she starts to settle back down, starting to slow her twitching from his fingertips. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmmm,” She hums instead of answering, and he can’t fault himself for chuckling. “That one is going to cost you.”

“Is it?”

But the sight of her is mouth-watering, so breathtakingly mouth-watering— and he’s halfway to just opening her up again with his fingers and exploring all of her new skin available. After all, the swell of her breasts is so appetizing, her face flushed and glowing as she loses a bit of steam in favor of drowsily blinking up at him— he wants nothing more than to suck bruises onto her porcelain skin and have her continuously cry out.

His own arousal is an afterthought, so long as he can keep her with him looking this beautiful and this dazed.

But the world tilts very much soon after he makes that thought.

“Yes, my lovely sky. My turn— I’ll make sure you to give you two as well.” She smiles, saddling him with a fervor that he should’ve expected by now. The space between her legs is sticky and warm, and he can feel her wetness through his boxers as she sits right where he’s sure is most comfortable for her. Her thighs feel like the perfect weights against his hips, slotting against him like a perfect pair.

Her eyes are brown, now, just as dark and vast as the sea he grew up in before meeting her. Her human eyes are beautiful and nostalgic to his past, and he finds himself captivated by them every time. He loves her in all forms, after all, bond or not— she’s beautiful to him in all versions he’s ever met her, even as he plays with the strands of her slightly shorter hair, relishing in how soft it still is against his fingertips.

“Go easy on me, scary serpent, you know I bruise easily,” He grins at her, palming up the soft flesh of her legs. She shivers at it, still sensitive after just transforming. No doubt her body is still trying to make sense of the sudden change, but she seems to be more in favor of putting all of that on the back burner and focusing on him. She captures his wrist, and kisses softly at his ring when she brings his hand up to her face— he tries his best not to pay attention to how her breasts feel like silk against his arm and elbow.

“Not a chance, my dear.”

AO3 | Chapter One | Chapter Two

[atmostories]

Johnny Lawrence x Reader

Tags: Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Alcohol Abuse, Depression Matter - Chapter One The first few weeks after you broke up with Johnny, you were a complete mess. Even though you had made the right decision it didn't make it any easier. The days were a vague blur, where you muddled through your daily routine without really experiencing it. You couldn't stop thinking about that night, it was the anniversary of his mother's death. You'd found him unconscious and sprawled out on the floor by the sofa. A strange sound was coming from him as his body convulsed slightly.

When you crouched down beside him, you'd realised that he was choking on his own vomit. Immediately you turned him onto his side and lifted up his chin to open his airway. He started to cough only a couple of seconds later as the vomit spewed out of his mouth.

He noisily wheezed in air, but he still didn't come to as you called out his name over and over. After accepting that he wasn't going wake up anytime soon, you wiped his face clean and laid down beside him. You tried not to shake in fear as you placed a hand on his chest to make sure he was still breathing. He'd almost died right in front of you.

You didn't sleep. You were wide awake the whole night watching over him. It wasn't until the morning when he finally woke up. His first instinct was to grab a bottle of beer on the table and down its remaining contents. When you told him what happened, he didn't even bother to apologise before downplaying the whole thing. You should have been angry, you should have told him to try to get sober, to go to therapy, to go to AA, but you'd said that all before. Every time you'd try to suggest him getting help, he'd shoot you down, saying that he didn't need any of that pussy shit and he didn't have a problem in the first place.

You just couldn't do this anymore.

After he stalked off to work, you packed up your stuff from his apartment and left. He called later that evening, asking where the fuck you were, demanding to know why your clothes were missing from the closet. You told him to meet you at a diner, it wasn't a conversation to have over the phone. You were waiting in the parking lot when he turned up. Rather than going inside, you got into the passenger seat of his Firebird.

Johnny didn't say hello, he didn't say anything for a while. He must have realised what was happening. Fuck, you really didn't want to do this. You'd been contemplating it for months, always managing to convince yourself to give him another chance, to respect that his addiction was a very complex and difficult thing.

Every day you'd worry about him, fearing that he might have gotten into a fight with someone again, panicking that he'd blackout at the wheel of his Firebird after coming home from a bar. He wasn't just putting himself at risk, but everyone he came across. You had numerous arguments with him about the drunk driving. He'd say that he hadn't had too many and he was perfectly fine to drive. He would then apologise and say he wouldn't do it anymore, and then a week later he'd do it all over again.

You knew he was a good man. That was the problem. It was buried underneath decades of shame and guilt and regret and hurt. You were not equipped to deal with it. You'd tried, you had tried so fucking hard. It had become such a burden that your own problems didn't matter, what you felt was always inconsequential.

But now what you said was going to matter.

“Look about last night,” Johnny mumbled, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Things might have gotten a little out of hand. . .”

“You almost died, Johnny,” you told him numbly. He looked at you then, his eyes searing into you and making your heart ache profusely. The tears welled up in your eyes. “You almost fucking died.”

Guilt bled across his expression before he looked away. The reprieve from his gaze gave you the chance to suck in an unsteady breath. You were still for a few moments before you pulled the key to his apartment from your pocket and held it out to him.

“I can't be with you anymore.”

“What, so that's it? You're just gonna leave because of one fuck up?” He asked angrily, his arm resting on the wheel as he turned to face you. You scoffed out a curt laugh, he was unbelievable. “You think this is funny?”

“You know that's not true,” you replied calmly, not wanting to get into an argument with him. He didn't reply. You let your arm fall into your lap, not bothering to keep holding the key out for him. Rather than wait for him to take it, you opened up the dash to put it inside. Before you could put it on top of some receipts, he snatched hold of your wrist.

“That key's not on loan, I gave it to you,” he snarled, he was deeply offended by the gesture. It was an insult to reject his gift, but you knew he didn't mean just that. You were rejecting him. Staring down at his hand, you waited until he loosened his grip and let your wrist go.

“When I told you that you're always welcome, I meant it,” he spat at you. In his eyes, what you had said to him didn't matter, when you had told him you loved him you didn't really mean it. You were nothing but a worthless liar.

“I'll always care about you,” you replied, hoping that he would understand you were telling the truth.

“Bullshit. You're just like the rest of them.”

“Johnny-”

“I thought you were different, but you're gonna leave like everyone else.”

“You don't understand-”

“No I get it. You know what? Keep the key, throw it in the trash, I don't care. Just get out of my car.”

“Please I-”

“Get out!” He shouted, your body jolting at the sound of his rage. You barely managed to swallow down a sob as you scrambled to leave the car. He started up the engine as you closed the door and he gunned it out of the lot.

You watched him drive off, not quite believing what had happened. But he was gone, just like you wanted.

- - -

It was almost a month since you'd last seen him. You got a call from Sid, that mean old bastard, as he explained how he graciously bailed out his step-son for the last time and that Johnny was no longer his responsibility. He managed to throw in a couple more insults as he told you to deal with Johnny from now on, suggesting to try payday loans or hustling the next time you had to pay for his bail. You hung up right after that, infuriated that Johnny had to grow up with someone like him.

Though your first instinct was to go straight to his apartment, you gave him a call instead, not wanting to cross any boundaries.

“Hello?” Johnny answered, he obviously hadn't checked to see who was calling him.

“Hey, Johnny.” The other end of the line was silent for a beat too long, you hurried to say something else before he could hang up. “I wanted to make sure you're okay. Sid gave me a call, he said that he bailed you out of jail.”

He huffed and hummed in displeasure. “Of course he did.”

“A-Are you?”

“What?”

“Okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“I was worried, I-”

“Yeah well, you don't need to do that anymore, do you?” Before you could say anything else, he hung up. The pain in your heart was the same as when he had driven away from the diner. Why wasn't it easing, even a little?

You missed him so much.

- - -

The new apartment you were living in was worse than Johnny's. You had to work extra shifts and overtime to pay the rent, and you were still struggling. It hadn't been as bad when you'd lived with him, he'd split the bills with you.

You were on a lunch break, thinking about going to the grocery store to buy some dish detergent. There weren't any clean dishes left, you'd gone through everything. You'd already used a mug as a substitute for a bowl several times. Your phone started ringing, distracting you from the thought. Seeing that it was Johnny calling made your chest twinge in discomfort.

“Hello?” You answered hesitantly.

“You left some of your stuff here,” he said bluntly without preamble. You were so shocked that he had called that you didn't manage to spit out a reply.

“Are you gonna come pick it up?” He prompted.

“Uh yeah, of course. What um. . .when do you want me to come over?”

“Anytime past eight.”

“Okay.”

“I've gotta go.” He didn't you a chance to say goodbye, or to ask whether he meant tonight. That must have been what he was saying, right? The rest of the day you were a wreck of nerves, unsure of how badly the next meeting with Johnny was going to go. Hadn't you taken everything from the apartment? What if he thought you had purposefully left it to give yourself an excuse to see him again?

Ten minutes past eight o'clock, you were walking up to his apartment, worrying that you might be too early. Should you have come at half eight or nine? You tried to stead yourself before knocking. When he opened up the door, you were surprised to see that he was clean-shaven. He looked good. . .healthy. The last time he'd shaved was when he saw Robby a while ago. The two of them had gotten into an argument. Johnny didn't take it well. After picking a fight with you, he went on a two day bender.

From the way he was looking you over, it was like he wasn't expecting you at all. Did he not mean tonight? Before you could tell him you'd come back another time, he opened up the door fully, gesturing for you to come inside by tilting his head.

After he closed the door behind you, he walked over to the kitchen. You didn't know what to do with yourself. The place felt so familiar, but at the same time there was now an underlying hostility to it. Sitting down would be too presumptuous, you didn't want to upset him. He opened up the refrigerator, you wondered how much stuff he had in there but you couldn't quite see from this angle. Johnny had a tendency to be forgetful about the groceries, but not the beer though. He never forgot the beer.

“You want something to drink?” He asked, you weren't sure if he was actually offering alcohol.

“No, thanks.”

“I've got orange juice,” he clarified.

“I'm okay.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah.” He shut the refrigerator and walked up to you, his finger pointing at your face.

“Those bags under your eyes say different.”

“I've worked a couple long shifts, that's all.”

“Sure,” he replied, with a hint of irritation to his tone. He always could see right through you. Rather than bothering to ask you for the truth, he picked up a box and put it on the coffee table. “Your stuff's in here.”

He migrated back to the kitchen, giving you a chance to take a look at what was inside. There were some toiletries, a toothbrush, a couple CDs, a tupperware box and an old Metallica shirt.

“This shirt is yours,” you told him, folding it up and placing it onto the table.

“The amount of times you've worn it. . .pretty sure it's yours.” There was a weak smile on his face. He was trying to break through the tension, ease up the conversation. You almost breathed out a sigh of relief, appreciative that he was trying to make this easier.

“It's really comfortable. Couldn't ever fault your taste in classic band shirts,” you responded in kind in an attempt to keep things jovial.

“Just everything else, huh?” He retorted, his eyes flicking away, his mouth twitching like he hadn't meant to say that. Awkwardly, you shuffled the items around the box, wondering how to recover the conversation without it degrading into something unpleasant. A knock on the front door pulled you from the thought. He had a grimace on his face as he went to see who it was. There was a kid the other side of the door.

“Sensei! I forgot to ask earlier, are there some exercises I should be doing in the morning? I was reading this article about metabolism and-”

“Now's really not a good time,” Johnny told him, trying to gently dismiss him. The kid then spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise. You gave him a half-hearted wave, wondering why he was calling Johnny Sensei.

“Oh, is that your friend?”

“What part of not a good time don't you get?”

“Sorry I uhh. . .guess I'll come back tomorrow?”

“Mmmhmm,” Johnny hummed. He answered the kid's question as he began to close the door. “Fifty crunches, forty lunges, thirty push ups.”

“Is that forty lunges per leg or-” The door was shut before the kid could finish. Johnny turned around, shifting his weight uncomfortably like you'd seen something you weren't meant to. You wanted to ask what the whole Sensei thing was about, why some kid was asking him about what exercises he should be doing in the morning.

“He seems like a good kid.”

“Yeah, when he's not being annoying.” There was no insult to his words, you could tell that Johnny liked him.

“What's his name?”

“Miguel. He lives in the apartment opposite.”

“Oh right,” you replied, unsure why he was making friends with the neighbours. He hadn't ever done that before. You turned your attention back to the contents of the box, fingers running along the edge of a CD case. It felt so strange being removed from Johnny's life, being unwelcome to the facets of his life. You had asked the most polite and unobtrusive questions you could think of, but you couldn't come up with anything else.

“I opened up a dojo,” he told you, his hands hanging awkwardly by his side.

“A dojo? You're doing karate again?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you hadn't done karate since you were in high school?”

“I haven't. Not until now.”

“Oh,” you muttered, mind replaying everything he had told you about Kreese. Sometimes he had nightmares about his old Sensei, he'd wake up shaking, struggling to breathe. One time he accidentally elbowed you in the face because you were too close. You had an arm around him, you had been pressed up against his back, spooning him. That was the last time you'd slept like that.

“But after everything that happened with Cobra Kai, I thought. . .” you trailed off.

“It's going to be different. It's not going to be like how it was before.” With Kreese, you finished wordlessly, understanding what he meant. Was it really a good idea for him to be doing karate again? You remembered the fights he'd gotten into, he was proficient enough as it was. It would give him direction though, something to focus on, something to work towards. He needed that.

But where did he get the money to open his own dojo? It must have expensive. Was it Sid? Was it part of his final pay off to get rid of Johnny for good?

“Miguel's your student then?”

“Yeah, he's my first one.”

“That's great, Johnny,” you told him honestly, knowing that this could get him back on track. “I'm happy for you.” He stared for a few moments, there was something off about his expression. Did he not believe you? He nodded non-committally in response.

You pointlessly shuffled around a few things in the box to give yourself something to do. The silence hung heavy in the air. You didn't want to leave, but you didn't feel welcome anymore.

“Was there anything else?” You asked, after you refolded the Metallica shirt and carefully tucked it away into the box. There wasn't anything more you could do to prolong your time with him.

“No, it's all in there.” Picking up the box, you slowly approached Johnny as he stood by the door.

“Thanks for calling me.” You pressed your lips together in a polite smile. “I hope everything goes well at the dojo.”

“Me too.” Johnny didn't move to open up the door, you wondered if he was expecting you to go around him. You took another step forward, shifting your grip on the box. Another few seconds passed until he finally opened the door. He brushed his hand along your arm as you moved past him. The sensation of his touch was a harsh reminder of how much you missed the intimacy you once shared with him. You were nothing but acquaintances now.

“Maybe take it easy with work, hmm?” He suggested gently. You must have looked worse than you realised. You nodded your head, you couldn't tell him that you would take it easy, that wasn't a choice you had.

As you walked off, you were perturbed by the thought that that was the last time you'd ever be in his apartment. - - - Hope you enjoyed it! I’m currently writing the next chapter and will share it when it’s finished. Do any of you want me to start a taglist for this? I’d be more than happy too. 

[songsformonkeys]

All the things he missed (ezra x f!reader)

summary: Five times you meet Ezra. Five things he’s missed while he was gone.

word count: 2900

rating: explicit

warnings: none

notes: This story is for @yespolkadotkitty​ as thanks for all the beautiful beautiful banners she has made for me and my stories, this one included. She asked for Ezra smut and here we are *shrugs*

Ao3

All the things he missed

The first time Ezra sees you, it's like time slows down and his field of vision narrows down so that there is only you. At least that's how he tells the story. You later joke and question whether it was really you that had captured his attention or the pot roast you had been carrying at the time.

Because the first time you see Ezra, as he walks into the small restaurant near the flight hangars on Darwash where you work, he's as thin as a baby bird. He's just gotten home from an ill-managed gig where supplies ran out earlier than the transport home was scheduled to arrive. Luckily, he and his crew noticed before it was too late and managed to ration the food, allowing for all of them to come home alive, if a lot thinner than when they left.

Ezra buys the entire pot roast straight out of your arms that day and actually manages, much to your amazement, to eat the whole thing. He pays a ridiculous amount of money for it, and when you tell the chef, he doesn't believe you. Not until the two of you hide behind the door to the kitchen and watch how the thin man in the too-big suit devours the entire roast in one sitting.

Whatever drink Ezra wanted was on the house for him that day.

”Can I get you anything else?” you ask him and he smiles in a way that brings life back to his hollowed-out face.

”You've already proven yourself to be more of a blessing than I had expected, when finally clocking out from that shitstorm of a gig. I am content for the time being.” He leans back in his seat and rubs a hand over his belly.

”I sure have missed food like this!”

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

The second time you meet Ezra, you almost wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't for the suit and that blonde tuft of hair. He's gained a considerable amount of weight and now he looks healthy and less like he's on the brink of starvation.

He shows up on a slow day and takes a seat by the counter. When he smiles at you, you notice a dimple in his cheek.

”Well, ain't this a pleasant surprise. It's the gentle one from last time I was here. The lady with the roast.”

He orders food this time too, although a less ridiculous amount this time around. He chats happily with you both while he waits for his food and in between chewing, once the food arrives. Ezra talks a mile a minute, mixing the twang and dialect commonly associated with the working-class space travelers with long and overly complicated words that you don't always know the meaning of.

You enjoy listening to him, which only seems to spur him on when he notices. He tells you about places he's been and places he would love to go. He paints vivid pictures of the different planets and people he's met. You're grateful that there aren't any other guests in the restaurant because you don't want to stop listening to this charismatic man talk. You tell Ezra that you have spent your whole life on Darwash and that you wouldn't even know where to begin if you were to travel. He immediately rattles off five different suggestions, which you try to commit to memory before he begins his next tale. You can't help but be drawn in by this man.

He stays with you almost to the end of your shift, asking you questions and answering yours, before he checks his chronometer and realizes that he's late to pick up the keys to his temporary apartment. He pays for everything and, despite your protests, gives you a sizeable tip.

”It's not often I find myself with financial resources to spare. Allow me the pretense of acting like a wealthy man.”

You grudgingly agree and Ezra gives you a wink before he heads for the door. He stops and turns as he reaches it.

”Thank you! I've missed talks like these.”

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

The third time Ezra shows up, he's covered in...something. It's purple and slimy and looks like it will stain whatever he touches.

”No,” you say, as soon as he walks through the door, ignoring the way your heart skips at the sight of him. You quickly round the counter, ready to push him outside if you have to. The other guests closest to Ezra have already begun turning their heads and, as you come closer, you can tell why. The purple goo has a sickly sweet smell that feels like it clogs your nose and makes it feel like you're breathing syrup.

”Ezra, you can not come in here, wearing that!”

”But this is all I've got,” he says, looking a little crestfallen, but there's a twitch to the corner of his mouth that makes you suspect it's all an act. You wave your hands in front of you, motioning for him to step back outside, which he does.

”I am sorry. But I am not spending the whole night scrubbing...whatever this is off whatever you touch in there.”

”Oh gentle one, what happened to your soft demeanor while I was gone?” he says and yes, he is definitely teasing you.

”It wilted away in your absence,” you toss back and Ezra looks positively delighted.

”I'll have to make sure it's not so long until next time then.”

His eyes are big and brown and earnest and you feel your resolve crumble.

”If you want to eat, I can lend you a set of our staff clothes. The suit stays outside, though.”

Ezra agrees and follows you around back to the staff entrance. You make him wait outside while you fetch him some clean clothes. When you come back, he's already halfway out of his suit. He pulls his undershirt over his head and uses it to wipe some goo from his hair. You're struck dumb by the sudden display of his bare back and only manages to clear your throat to get his attention. He turns, and you walk over to hand him the clothes. His hand brushes yours as he accepts them from you, and you feel like one of the maidens from the old romance novels you have at home because your cheeks burn from just that small touch.

Ezra notices and, of course, can't help but comment.

”What lovely color. To bring a flush to those cheeks is challenge I wouldn't mind having a second go at.”

You hear Ezra chuckle when you flee into the restaurant again.

When he shows up inside a couple of minutes later, he's dialed back the flirting slightly, and takes a seat at the counter. He picks some invisible lint off the shirt.

”Thank you, gentle one! These are comfortable. I have missed wearing clothes like these.”

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

The fourth time Ezra shows up, it's late in the evening right before your shift ends. He just orders a drink and later, once his glass is empty, he offers to walk you home. You both know what he's really offering and you decide to take him up on that offer. He kisses you outside your front door. It's soft and sweet, and you can tell that he's holding back. You nip at his lower lip and the sound he makes at the back of his throat goes straight to your gut.

You invite him in and Ezra barely let's you close and lock the door behind you before his hands are on you, pulling you close.

That night you find out just how skilled that mouth is at other things besides talking. He falls asleep in your arms afterwards. You stay awake for as long as you can, reveling in the feeling of his stubbled face against your shoulder and his arm across your waist.

The next morning you wake up to find Ezra already awake and watching you. He tells you that he has to leave again this afternoon for another gig. Logically you knew that you wouldn't get to keep Ezra in your bed forever, but there's still a foolish part of you that's disappointed.

”It's just one gig, gentle one,” Ezra says, having noticed the expression on your face, ”Pays quite the fortune too. I'll be back before you have time to miss me. And when I return, I should like to treat you to a proper date. Take you somewhere real fine.”

He tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear and you lean into the touch.

”Thank you for tonight, gentle one. I have missed sleeping next to someone this way.”

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

Ezra promises to be back before spring ends, but Ezra doesn't show up. More and more time passes, spring turns to summer, which in turn turns to fall, and still there's no sign of Ezra. You begin to feel foolish, to question what it was you two had shared. It had been stupid to fall for a man you hardly knew, a prospector at that. Of course Ezra wouldn't be back. He probably has a girl like you in every port. The disappointment tastes bitter on your tongue.

But despite the realization that your encounter had probably meant more to you than it had to Ezra, you can't stop thinking about him, and there is still that tiny part of your brain that still hopes...

Which was why, when you open your door almost a year later, and find Ezra standing outside, you don't slam it in his face.

Ezra isn't wearing his suit but a knitted gray sweater and a pair of beige pants that both look new and expensive. One of the sleeves is pinned up, making it clear that Ezra's right arm is no more. His face looks worn and tired.

”I apologize for being late, gentle one,” he says and you can't stop yourself from stepping out in the cold to wrap your arms around his neck. You feel the tension melt away from his shoulders and when you press your lips to his, he makes a relieved sigh.

”Oh I am a blessed man,” he mumbles against your lips and you pull back as he continues speaking. ”I thought myself a fool to think that you would wait for me, but I told myself: I have to try. Gentle one, I truly am sorry!”

”It's okay,” you assure him, as if your last year hasn't been filled with longing and doubt about this man that's currently in your arms. ”Would you like to come inside?”

”I would like that very much.”

You take his hand and lead him inside and up the stairs. Ezra continues rattling off excuses mixed with compliments on your appearance. He has a debate with himself about the pattern of your blue dress and precisely what it's supposed to be.

You silence him with your mouth when you reach the bedroom.

Ezra won't let you undress him, and you suspect that he wants to show you that he can still do it himself. Once he's pulled his shirt off, he catches you looking at what remains of his right arm with a worried look.

”That is quite a story,” he says, ”And I should like to do it justice so I beg that we can save it for later. Right now there are more pressing matters and every fiber of my being longs to touch you and I implore that you have mercy and don't make me wait any longer.”

You would roll your eyes at his dramatics, if it weren't for the fact that the same longing that he describes claws in your own chest. You rid yourselves of the rest of your clothes in a matter of seconds. Ezra lays you out on the bed, naked, and takes a few moments just to observe. His gaze is heavy enough that it feels like a physical touch when he runs it across your body. You squeeze your thighs together and when his fingers finally caress your collarbone, you almost arch off the bed just in anticipation of what comes next.

Ezra's hand trails lower pausing to cup one of your breasts and feel the weight of it in his hand, running the pad of his thumb over your nipple a few times, before continuing down across your stomach.

Ezra is touching you like he's committing every inch of you to memory. Out loud, he compares various parts of your body to things he's seen on his travels, and the wonder in his voice makes you want to wrap him up in your arms and keep him there forever. To him, your body is a collection of hills, valleys and planes, gemstones and monuments. Every part of you is likened to a different place or kind of terrain and when he runs his fingers over the hairs between your legs and murmurs: ”So soft. Like...” you cut him off by leveling him with a warning glare.

”Careful how you finish that sentence, Ezra,” you say and he laughs before leaning down to kiss you. As his mouth covers yours, his finger slips between your folds and you moan against his lips.

He dips his finger inside, just enough to gather some of your slick on his finger, before he pulls it out to gently massage your clit. You have done this to yourself hundreds of times but the sensation of his fingers is entirely different.

He apologizes for his lack of finesse and inexperienced left hand but the only response you can give him is a moan and a whimper. You suppose that contradicts his claimed lack of finesse just fine.

”Look at you,” he whispers and there's that tone of wonder again. He continues to shower you with praise as his fingers and voice bring you closer and closer to an orgasm. You grip his thigh hard enough that you're sure you're leaving marks and your thighs shake as he speeds up his movements. You don't stand a chance and you cry out his name as pleasure washes over you.

Ezra continues to move his fingers through your orgasm and as you sink back against the mattress like a boneless mess, he leans down to kiss your forehead. You tilt your head up instead and capture his mouth in a sloppy kiss that only half hits its mark.

Your lower body is still tingling when you reach for the contraceptives in the drawer of your nightstand. As you lean over, Ezra slots himself against your back and kisses your shoulder and your neck. His hand is still between your legs, gently cupping you.

You take out one of the small soft squares and move Ezra's hand out of the way so you can carefully push the small square inside yourself. Still sensitive from Ezra's touch, the action makes you moan softly. You let it absorb for a moment as Ezra strokes your thigh and tells you how beautiful you are.

When he pulls your hand out, he holds it up to his mouth to suck your fingers clean. As those sinful lips close around your index finger, he lifts your leg and shifts his hips closer. You reach down and help guide him inside. He moans in your ear and the sound vibrates all the way through your body and is almost enough to make you come a second time.

”I feel I must warn you,” Ezra whispers a little tensely, as if he's holding back another moan, ”In surroundings as exquisite as these, I fear I won't last long.”

”I don't care,” you assure him and that's all the reassurance Ezra needs before he starts to move.

He sets a slow pace fucking you, like he's relishing in each slow thrust. He keeps a running commentary of the way you feel around him. Lost in your own pleasure, you hear maybe half of it.

His hand alternate between gently holding your hips in place as he thrusts into you and running up your torso to caress your chest and neck. When he's not talking, and sometimes while he's talking, he places kisses along your shoulder and up the side of your neck and face. Your spine feels taught as a bowstring as he repeatedly hits a spot inside you that sends sparks of pleasure through your body.

True to his warning, Ezra doesn't last very long. His voice gets more and more breathless the closer he gets to his orgasm, but he doesn't stop talking. It's only in the moment that he finally comes that he falls silent, pressing his mouth against the nape of your neck and letting out a soft whimper. You hold his hand tightly through his orgasm.

Later, he is lying with his head on your chest and your fingers play with the blonde lock of hair at his temple. He's in the middle of telling you about this final gig on the green moon, when he suddenly stops and looks up at you. You smile and raise your eyebrow slightly in a silent question.

”Gentle one...before I continue, I have to tell you something.”

”And what's that?”

”I really really missed you.”

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[fuckallthegood0nesweretaken]

New World CH. Eight

Title: Potential Home

Words: 1891

Warnings: Strong sexual content (P in V sex, spicy kissing, groping), strong language

A/N: If you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write for you!

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New World Masterlist

Daryl Dixon Masterlist

The Walking Dead Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

The winter months had passed without any major incidents. No one died, but food was scarce and you were never able to stay in one place for more than a week. It got better as the months got warmer, but it was still rough.

 A few weeks had gone by before you and your brothers told the Greene family about the supernatural. It took a lot to convince them, but after a run in with a group of vampires, they believed you.

 You and Daryl had also gotten closer, and surprisingly, your slightly overprotective brothers didn’t have a huge problem with it. The two of you were good for each other, and they saw that. Daryl made you happy and that was something not a lot of people got these days.

 You had been on the road for a few days since the last house you stayed in was overrun. Lori looked like she was about to pop and you needed to find a place to stay. Going house to house or staying out the open wasn’t becoming an option anymore. So when you came across a prison while hunting with Daryl and Rick, you thought that this could be it.

 ---

 “We found a place,” Rick said when you got back to the group. “It’s a prison.”

 “A prison?” Carl asked.

 “Yeah. The fences held up and it looks good,” you said. “I think we should go for it. We also got some meat.”

 “We’d have to clear it out, but this could be it.”

 Everyone agreed, and piled into the cars. You sat with your brothers and daughter, as usual, and off you went. When you got there, Rick cut the fence while you helped fend off walkers as Sam held Adeline close. Once everyone was inside the fence, Daryl and Glenn tied it back together fast. Running along the path, you got to an open space.

 “It’s perfect,” Rick breathed as he looked at the prison yard. “If we can shut that gate and prevent more from getting into the yard, we can pick off these walkers.”

 “So how do we shut the gate?” Hershel asked.

 “I’ll do it. You guys cover me,” Glenn volunteered.

 “No,” Maggie said. “It’s a suicide run.”

 “I’m the fastest.”

 “No. You, Maggie, Beth, and T-Dog draw as many as you can over there. Pull them away from the middle of the yard and pop ‘em through the fence. Daryl, you and [y/n] get up in that tower there. Carol, you’ve gotten to be a pretty good shot, join them. Carl, Dean, and Hershel, you go in that tower. Sam, stay close to Lori and the kids down here. I’ll run for the gate.”

 “Be careful, Rick,” you said before running with Daryl and Carol to the tower. Adeline was still wrapped in Sam’s arms, her wide eyes watching as Lori opened the gate for Rick.

 Cautiously, you quickly made your way to the top. There were no walkers for you to take out and you were grateful for the small victory. Holding your rifle steady, you aimed the sights at the walkers in the yard. When the group on the ground attracted a fair bit, you opened fire. Carefully, you made every bullet count. You didn’t have a lot of ammo to spare and you knew it.

 The sound of gunfire filled the air, the sounds of bodies falling coming soon after. When Rick got to the gate, he kicked a walker out of the way and pulled it shut. You shot one that was sneaking up on him and when he managed to get into the third tower, you let out a sigh of relief.

 “He did it!” Carol said.

 “Light it up!” Daryl yelled to everyone.

 With a stupid grin on your face, you continued shooting down walkers until there were none left in the yard. Once they were all dead for good, you turned to Daryl and kissed him. His free arm went around your waist and you broke apart with a laugh. Carol was looking at the two of you fondly and walked down the tower stairs with a soft smile on her face.

 Once she was gone, Daryl pulled you closer to him. His lips met yours hungrily and you let out a small moan as his hand gripped your ass. You set your gun down and he set his crossbow down, pulling you closer to him now with both hands. There was no space between you and you could feel your body heating up. His touch was like fire and you couldn’t get enough of it. When he detached himself from your lips and started making his way down your neck, you keened.

 “D-Daryl,” you whimpered.

 “Yes?” He said, muffled slightly.

 “We’re out in the open. They could still see us.” Your voice cracked.

 “Don’t care. Need ta feel ya.”

 With that, he dug his fingers into your ass and you jolted, your belly hitting his hard cock. You moaned and Daryl hissed in pleasure. He hiked up your thigh, making it wrap around his waist. You rocked your hips up into him and he responded the same.

 “We-we should get back to the group. They’ll worry.” You didn’t want to stop, but you knew you had to.

 “Don’t wanna stop.”

 “How ‘bout this? We go back to the group and after they go to sleep, I’ll let you fuck me in this tower,” you purred into his ear.

 “Fuck,” Daryl groaned. His hips jerked forward at the thought of being able to properly fuck you for the first time in a while.

 “Sound good?”

 “Sounds perfect.” He kissed you hard once more and pulled himself away. You giggled as he adjusted his straining cock and he lifted an eyebrow at you.

 “What’s funny?”

 “Nothin’!” You said sweetly. Bending over to grab your gun, Daryl grabbed your clothed pussy and you moaned. Movements stuttering, you gave him a half-assed glare and he smirked cheekily.

 “What was that for?” You asked.

 “Nothin’,” he said.

 “Oh hush.” Daryl laughed and smacked your behind as you walked past him.

 “S’go, ‘fore your brothers throw a fit.”

 ---

 After you had taken the prison yard, you made a fire while some others went to get the cars. Everyone was in good spirits and you felt lighter than you had in months. Sitting on a blanket, your family beside you lighthearted, made it hard to wipe the smile off of your face. Daryl was watching the gate and Carol had brought him some food.

 Beth had started singing and you saw Daryl coming back, Carol in tow. Rick had come over too. Sitting down behind you, Daryl pulled you and Adeline into his lap and you snuggled close. Closing your eyes and listening to Beth’s and Maggie’s voices, you could feel yourself drifting off to sleep. When Daryl saw that, he gently jostled you awake.

 “Don’t forget your promise ta me,” he growled lowly in your ear. You shivered at the hunger in his voice and he pulled you closer.

 “Better all turn in,” Rick said. “I’ll take watch over there. Got a big day tomorrow.”

 “What do you mean?” You asked.

 “Look, I know we’re all exhausted. This was an amazing win. But we gotta push just a little more. Most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners. There’s no civilians.”

 “That would mean that the whole prison is secure,” you said.

 “Exactly. It could also mean that the supplies may be intact. Food, medicine.”

 “Weapons?” Daryl asked.

 “That would be outside the prison itself, but no too far away. Wardens office would have the details. This place could be a gold mine.”

 “We’re dangerously low on ammo,” Hershel said. “We’d run out before we made a dent.”

 “That’s why we have to go in there. Hand to hand,” Rick said. “After all we’ve been through, I know we can handle it. These assholes don’t stand a chance.”

 You let out a small laugh and so did Carl. When Rick walked to the tower, Lori followed him. Daryl patted your thigh and you got up, setting a sleeping Adeline next to Sophia on your blanket.

 “We’re gonna go to the other tower to keep watch. You can only see so much from the one,” you said. Turning to Carol, you said, “Watch Adeline for me?”

 “Alright. Have fun,” Carol said, wiggling her eyebrows.

 “Not too much fun,” Dean muttered. Sam hit him in the side and Dean winced before waving his hand.

 Daryl scoffed and pulled you by the hand. The walk to the tower was quiet, and you swung your intertwined hands. Once you had climbed the stairs and stepped into the small room, Daryl pushed you up against the door. His hands practically tore your shirt off of your body, your bra going next.

 “Haven’t seen these perfect tits in too long,” Daryl groaned. He palmed at your chest and you keened, pushing yourself into him. You pulled him in for a kiss, running your hands up his shirt. He tugged his shirt over his head and threw it in the corner of the room before lifting you up onto the desk. Trailing his lips down your neck and onto your stomach, you whined at the soft touches.

 He got to the waistband of your jeans and used his teeth to pry open the button and pull down the zipper. Once you were completely naked, he hungrily looked you over. His gaze was hot and even though he had seen you naked before, it still made you a little embarrassed.

 “Can’t believe you’re all mine,” he growled.

 Hurriedly taking his own pants off, he closed the gap between the two of you once again. He rutted into you gently, hands caressing every inch of your body. Your head thrown back, Daryl drank in the sight of you.

 “What do ya want, babygirl?” He asked you.

 “Want you,” you moaned.

 “Me? What part of me?”

 “Want your cock!”

 Daryl smirked at those words and pressed himself closer to you. You cried out at his touch and he took pity on you, lining up his cock and pushing it into you. Letting out a high pitched moan, you scrambled to hold onto Daryl as he set a brutal pace. You knew that neither one of you was going to last long, it had been a couple months since you had last been with each other.

 Grabbing his face, you pulled him into a searing kiss. Tongues intertwining, chests heaving, you hit your peak once Daryl started rubbing your clit. You clenched harshly around him and he came inside you a few seconds later. Trying to catch your breath, you moaned when Daryl started mouthing at your neck, hands running up your side. He started moving his hips again and your breath hitched.

 “Got another one in there for me?”

 ---

 The next day started early. Dean, Daryl, Rick, Glenn, Maggie, and T-Dog were going to clear out some of the prison. After they got armed and ready, you kissed your brother’s cheek.

 “Stay safe,” you said.

 “I will.” Dean gave Adeline a kiss and nodded to Sam before walking away with the others. You watched them start to take out the walkers and bit your lip in worry.

[punkgrogg]

Doorway Duo pt.2

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 2,456 words

Notes: Sorry for the long wait, this summer has been one disaster and tragedy (my grandpa, great grandma, and college friend have all passed) after another but I’m almost finished with part 3 so I’ll be posting that in the next couple of days. 

Date posted: 7/26/2020

Pregnancy sucks.  My back hurts and my feet are sore after just a few hours walking. Not to mention the overall discomfort of my body swelling up to accommodate the new human developing inside of it. Luckily I only have about three more months of this left and I could finally hold my baby boy. Yeah, Hobi was right. He claimed that it was his hybrid genes that made him privy to this information but Kook calls bullshit- he and Tae had been hoping it was a girl.

In the past two months of staying back home, I’ve seemed to bond super well with the two new hybrids. At first, it was easy to become friends with Tae, he was overly friendly and followed me around after our first-day meeting. Once my baby bump became prominent I could keep him away; he spent most of his waking hours cooing at my stomach. I had to work a bit harder to get Jungkook to open up to me and all it took was a few weeks of calling Taehyung his nickname.  Apparently, he was just shy and wanted to be my friend also but he was jealous that Tae got to be called Tae. I called him Kook since then and all shyness flew out the door. He and Tae were both so energized all the time and both so caring. Today they insisted on accompanying me to the store because they didn’t want me to accidentally overwork myself. Hobi tagged along too, not wanting to be left behind at the house alone.

I was flanked by both Jungkook and Taehyung the moment we entered the store but this is something I've had to get used to.  Another thing I’ve had to get used to is that Taehyung was very touchy. His hands are always in contact with some part of my body and today he had wrapped his arm around my waist and his fingers traced small circles into my side as we strolled down the aisles. Usually, I wasn’t someone who liked to be held all the time but with Tae, it never bothered me, it was actually comforting most of the time. Hobi strolled a few feet ahead of us while he was bickering with Taehyung over the chips that were tossed into the cart.  The great chip debate happened every time we went to the store, Hoseok had a weird taste when it came to snacks and my other brothers and I had long gotten over it. 

Jungkook was hovering on my right- so close that our knuckles brushed as we walked- his presence a constant that I’ve become accustomed to these last few weeks.  He was back to his quiet guy persona, it probably would stay this way until we got home. Hobi thought it was funny when we went out in public together- said that Jungkook changes gear into high alert one I became a variable. It was hard for me to imagine him outside of the two versions of him that I knew, the quiet and shy versus the playful and relaxed.  At home, Jungkook was the one to cajole me into chasing him throughout the house but whenever I turn a corner too fast he’s there with arms outstretched to catch me. 

Taehyung too acted a bit differently when we went out, usually he was a bundle of energy and excitement that couldn’t be contained but in public, he seemed to change into a startling somber man who would then meld himself to my side once out the door. I guess this fed into his protective instincts as well.  Tae was the one who was most concerned with my well being in the house. He responded to every grunt and whimper I’ve made since I’ve moved in. He forced me into weekly self-care nights and rushed to prevent me from overworking myself no matter the task. I would think that it was charming normally but because of him, I’ve been banned from dish duty after accidentally cutting my finger after moving in. 

My parents had warned me that the three hybrids in the house might change a bit while the pregnancy developed but if I were uncomfortable then I should let them know right away. Hoseok was the same Hoseok as ever- a beam of sunshine in my monotonous life. He has spent increasingly more time outside of our house - going on dates with some mysterious guy. He has stopped teasing me a much this past week or two and instead teases Jungkook and Taehyung twice as much. Jungkook and Tae have obviously turned into my pseudo bodyguards and that can probably be chalked up to their hybrid instincts. 

Why else would these two hang onto me so closely?   I thought to myself as I focused on a sign for a buy one get one half off deal for oatmeal. Dad liked oats in the morning but there didn’t seem to be any of his favored cinnamon flavors. Taehyung suddenly ripped me out of my peaceful bubble by tugging me into his side abruptly. Jungkook stood in front of me while I could hear Hoseok apologize profusely. Both Taehyung and Jungkook had their faces twisted into scowls as they peered down at the man huddled on the floor. He looked familiar.

His curly blonde hair seemed to be what struck me with a name on the tip of my tongue. I couldn’t quite place him, how many blonde men did I know? Not many other than that Jimin guy Hobi brought around since high school. I couldn’t place him until he glanced over where I was peeking out over Jungkook’s shoulder. His eyes were blue, an icy pale blue that was the same color as his. This was Henry’s little brother. Was it Darren? Or maybe David? It was hard to recall as Henry was coles with his family. Especially after their parents divorced and He had been the only child to go live with his dad. I had only met David a few times over the almost six years we had been together. 

“Y/n?”  He asked, his eyes lighting up in recognition. Hobi- who was interrupted mid apology for ramming into him with the cart- looked back at me with inquisitive eyes. Taehyung tried to pull me closer to his side but this once I resisted and stepped from the overwhelming protection of the Duo. 

“David? Last I saw you, you were a scrawny little beanpole.” I teased light-heartedly as I stood next to Hobi. David’s cheeks flushed as he stood up and straightened out his clothes. 

“Uh, well, I grew up. It’s been three years so how’s it been going? Henry said you guys split up.” His eyes seemed to be glued to my stomach. My stomach was big, especially for how far along I was at only six months of my pregnancy but I was already passing the size of a watermelon. My hands came up to cradle my stomach. 

I forced a smile, “Yeah, we did. It’s been about six months, I think? I’ve been doing good though.” 

It was then that my blood ran cold. Rounding the corner behind David was the man I never wanted to see again. Henry.  These last few months haven’t fully rid me of the sting of abandonment and no matter how much I’ve been coddled - it could never erase the pain and loneliness that I’ve had to overcome. I could feel my brother tense up beside and his threats to ‘rip out his throat’ came ringing in the back of my head. I calmly reached out and held onto his forearm gently.

Henry’s attention was fully focused on the bakery box in his hands and he only glanced up at his brother. He quickly did a double-take when he noticed that there were five looming figures instead of just the one. He skimmed over the group of strangers until he locked eyes with me. His feet took root and held him back a few feet away as he gawked. 

“Baby? That's my baby?” he managed to choke out while his eyes bugged out of his head. David’s jaw dropped and suddenly, with both their gazes trained on me, I felt so much smaller than just a few moments ago.  I could feel panic clawing at my throat as it rattled its way out of my chest at the sudden turn of events. That’s until a warm firm hand grasped onto my elbow as the familiar towering presence materialized behind me. Jungkook. His hold quelled my panic almost instantly. I fixed a terse smile at Henry, my face changing a calm disposition.

“No. You were right: there was no way it could be your baby.” I could feel the acid dripping from my lips as I forced a saccharine sweet smile at the asshole.

Henry’s face quickly snapped out of the shocked expression, almost as quickly as his face took on a reddened hue. “So you were a fucking whore and got knocked up by some hybrid? Should have known, your family is way too close to those fucking freaks.” He kept his eyes trained on Jungkook’s hand holding onto me.

“Oh, I knew you were a piece of shit the first time she brought you home.” Hoseok laughed unamused. He abandoned the cart only to stalk towards Henry, stopping with barely six inches left between the two. “The only thing keeping me from tearing you limb from limb right now is the fact that she begged me to, One more comment from your limp-dicked self will be more than enough to break my self-control. This is the last time you’ll ever speak to her or her children. Understood?” Henry nodded quickly with a face painted in fear. 

Taehyung stepped forward and turned the cart around. Jungkook tugged me along and rubbed his hand on my arm in comfort. Tae swiped a few boxes of snack cake of the shelf as we hurried away and a sudden ringing sound of a slap rang out through the aisle.  No-one turned around. As we approached the lines for check out I could hear the squeaking of Hobi’s sneakers as he ran to catch up with us.  His hands replaced Jungkook’s as he tugged me into his chest. 

He tucked my head under his chin and held me tightly, so tight that he managed to squeeze out the few tears I was managing to fight back. He only tightened his grasp as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. He let go momentarily to wrench his wallet out of his back pocket so he could exchange it for keys from Jungkook. He pulled me out from under the judging stares of the cashiers and led me to the parking lot. As we neared the car he hugged me closer to his side so he could press his cheek against the top of my head. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

“No. I’m sorry I let you be with that asshole. I failed as a big brother.” he sighed despondently and I could feel the guilt twisting my stomach into knots.

“No, you’re the best one I got. I’m sorry he said that about you, I’ve never heard him say anything like that before. I love you Hobi, you’re my sunshine.” I cried as I held onto his shirt.

“I know you don’t think of me that way or the guys. I can remember you fighting punks like that at the park growing up. His dumbass will never affect how much I love my snot-nosed baby sister.” he pulled away and leveled me with a soft smile, forcing me to return one. 

“Did you hit him? You could get in a lot of trouble.” I bit onto my lip as I imagined the terrible consequences. He could lose his job at the shelter. He could be marked aggressively by the government and taken away. He could be arrested.

His warm soft hands squished my cheeks as he made me face him. “Aw, is our little Y/n worried about her big brother? Don’t worry my princess, bubby didn’t hurt him. His brother slapped the socks off him. I was shocked.”  His blinding smile finally returned and could hear a cart being pushed behind us. I turned to see Taehyung standing on the front of the cart with a big smile as he waved to us; Jungkook was running full speed at the handle of the cart. 

I laughed at the two idiots as they barely managed to stop before crashing into my car. Taehyung’s hands flew forward to brace himself against the trunk. Jungkook laughed heartily as Taehyung started to yell at him for almost squishing him. 

“Kook, are you driving us back?” I asked to save him from the snow leopard. He nodded as Hobi tossed him the keys. Kook popped the trunk while Hobi and Tae tossed in the few bags of groceries. Jungkook steered away from the cart and we all filed into the car wordlessly. I was in the passenger seat with Hobi behind me. There seemed to be a heavy curtain of silence surrounding us all. 

“Taehyung, Jungkook, I’m sorry for what Henry said.” I pointedly kept my attention at the fast-changing scenery. They were both silent until I could feel hot breath against my neck. A chin rested on my shoulder while a nose pressed itself between my ear and jawline. 

“Why are you sorry? Did you teach him to hate hybrids?” Tae’s deep voice was just barely louder than a whisper but it echoed in my heart. I whipped my head towards him, my eyebrows pinched together harshly, only to see the grin plastered on his face.

“You know I don’t think like that. Don’t tease me like that, I was apologizing because you guys don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. You’re people; kind, caring people.” I glared at him with no heat while his smile only widened. 

“We do know, that’s why we weren’t mad. It's something that happens and we can’t help that we’re used to it. We were actually pissed at that asshat.” Jungkook harrumphed in agreement and I could feel the knot loosen in my stomach. 

“I’ve been trying to join Team Hate Henry since we moved in and Hoseok hasn’t allowed it. I bet Namjoon will let us in now.” Jungkook smirked back at Hobi who squeaked in protest.

“Namjoon cannot know that we met with him. He would actually kill him.” I interjected, my fear helping me envision Joonie in an orange jumpsuit. 

Jungkook side-eyed me before smirking at me, “ Would that be so bad?”

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