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cadaverjuices · 1 year ago

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sane/insane

cast; hunter [he/him], septimus [he/him] word count - 3202 CWs// violence, blood, animal harm metaphors, religious themes, emeto, self harm stuff whump specific; BBU/pet whump, intimate whumper/carewhumper, whumpee is in love with whumper and vice versa, transman whumpee, gay whumper, and a female whumper is mentioned.

summary;

the overlap between predator and prey, what each does to quell traumas bygone.

A/N - originally two different short stories i wrote!! featuring worlds most fucked up rabbit boy hunter, and septimus. who multiclasses as a whumper/whumpee/caretaker because hes special [specially traumatized].

hunter stared as the blood ran down the drain, his body feeling faint, his consciousness feeling foggy like he was underwater- and even as the tap blares a loud sound as rushing water runs through it, he can’t focus on it, it becomes an inaudible buzzing in the back of his mind, muffled by the screaming of his body.

there's not much to be said about what he felt.

he felt scared, disgusted to the core.

he wanted to cry, scream, run away, but he stood still, staring absentmindedly at the blood being washed off of him, pouring down in a reddish-pinkish hue, pain searing all the way through his body.

how did they get to this?

why- like moth to flame, is he like this?

and as he coughs again, gagging a disgustingly wet and rancid sound as more blood pours out, he felt himself cry, a weary smile on his face, tears prickling at the edge of his eyes and pouring down.

it’s not the physical pain that hurt, but the images that haunted his mind.

septimus-

'gather yourself,' hunter tells himself, hand grasping his leg, his shoulder feels sticky, wet skin against a wet tile wall, 'what's going on?' he asks his own dazed, dizzy mind.

he’d been hurt again.

well, that one was obvious, wasn't it?

devoured like some sort of prey animal, he could feel the deep gash wounds scream in pain; twisting, churning like the waves of a deep red ocean, screaming for some sort of relief.

but it doesn’t come, it never does, no matter how far hunter thinks he gets in his 'journey', he is always back there again.

hurt and broken and on fire, no matter how good hunter feels in one moment, the next he feels just as empty, just as depressed as before, in need of that 'fix' again.

always the same, always the exact same empty feeling, the same depression, the same gnawing deep need for what he knows will set him free, and always... the same relief he gets from his 'fix', being hurt.

always the same relief he gets when he starts to boil with self-hate, bubbling out of him and showing its ugly face to all those around him, all those whom he should care about and should find comfort in, when they leave him.

alone again, pretty?

an echo of a memory within his mind, loving affectionate voice, juxtaposed with a face he knew did not mean well.

and then, it's always the same person- or same kind of person, that he always gets that final relief, that final comfort from, a twisted, dark, and sick kind of comfort, a disgusting kind, an impure kind.

septimus.

tall, beautiful septimus. looks of an angel, hands of a devil, he denies it every time. saying he's not worthy of that moniker, calling himself twisted and impure- it only convinces hunter more. scars on his back, yellow eyes like a cat at night, and black hair with yellow streaks, he always smiles like he's getting a twisted joy out of everything, as if he doesn't deserve it.

hunter’s fallen angel.

perhaps if it was someone else hunter would have to ask himself where he was, but he knew. nobody had quite the decoration like his septimus. holes in the wall, dust flies about glittering in the yellowed flickering lights, he sees discarded cigarettes and broken trash, there's some mysterious grime in the corners of the bathroom that he was being careful to not touch and of course- the piece de resistance.

blood covers from here to fro, hunter was far from the only bloody thing in this house he was sure.

he always has wondered, where does that blood come from? as far as he knows septimus doesn't really have any friends, with or without quotations.

when he feels a hand from behind rest upon his shoulder, he knows he's right.

from the corner of his eye, he sees him kneel, a hand squirms its way under his chin and sets itself upon his cheek, he burrows into it as he's pulled to look at the man himself.

septimus.

on him there is blood, his clothes are frazzled, hunter sees the parts where his hands were probably just pulling at, and in septimus' hands, he holds a bloody sheet.

a gentle voice, “don’t go ruining this place again, hunter.” it speaks, smooth, soft, and yet unsettling; a coldness creeps in like a morning breeze, so gentle, but hunter feels himself freeze in fear at it, like a rabbit caught by a hawk, he's smiling at hunter, a thumb caresses his cheek, in his eyes, hunter sees the unimaginable adoration he holds for hunter, a sick kind of love.

his voice turns mockingly upset, “you know i can’t keep on cleaning up after your mess, you just need to be still and nothing like what happened last time will happen again.” it says, so chillingly sweet, like a toxin making it way into hunters gut, making him shake, he feels lips against his other cheek, a kiss.

“come on, answer me.” he says, voice lower, tightening jaw and a hand tightening on his neck, nails prickling at his skin like knives, threatening to tear in at any second.

he doesn't think septimus is aware of it, even, as his brows furrow- desperation, hunter has seen it a thousand times before.

just as broken as the other, just as desperate for affection and approval as the other.

it's frankly pathetic; for both of them.

hunter nods slowly, half-lidded and exhausted, feeling the pressure release from his neck, and sees as septimus goes to stand up over him, “good.” a breathy, disgustingly cheery voice says, a short laugh, breathy, “good, yeah, good.” and hunter is pulled up, feeling himself stand on shaky legs, held lovingly like fragile glass, but nails dig into his skin like rodent caught by bird.

hunter takes a shaky, painful breath, and leans away from the blood puddle from where he sat, being pulled away firmly; gently by septimus, feeling how he clings onto him, grasping him, squeezing him just slightly enough that he can feel the stinging of the gashes at being pulled at, he slowly looks up into the mirror, seeing himself, bloodied and torn apart like wet tissue paper, and septimus behind him, a crescent, crude smile on his lips, eyes staring back at hunter, poking at hunters skin, pulling at the skin, opening up those wounds he himself tore into hunter, there is a sense of pride he shouldn't perhaps have.

artist and his work?

a hand slowly travels up and grabs hunter's face, this hand more covered in blood than the last- he shivers at the wet feeling the blood gives on his skin, feeling sick as he feels himself tense up, but he stays still, nails gently poking at his skin as septimus twists his face to look at him.

“hunter.” he asks, a quiet and smooth voice, nose against his, his thumb caresses hunters face slowly, “you know i love you right? that this is out of love, right?” and, as hunter breathes slowly, shakily… a little smile creeps on his face.

the fix.

cure for his sickness, he lets himself be covered in worse disease, a shaky, weak breath from him- it's an intoxicating feeling.

“of course.” he says, septimus stares at his face for a second longer, absorbing the moment fully, a gentle kiss onto hunter’s bloodied lips, and he backs away, letting hunter go, his tone suddenly shifts, colder, disinterested. in his eyes, hunter sees how he stares off into nothing yet again, always only focusing on the candle as it's burning, moth to flame alike.

“i’ll go call that doctor guy for you, you seem to have had enough of me now.” he mumbles, "you'll be fine in here yourself, right?" he asks, eyes digging through hunter, seemingly looking through him. hunter nods and then watches as his beloved fallen angel goes out of the bathroom, leaving hunter alone.

rabbits are not supposed to love hawks.

hunter stands, feeling himself wave from side to side as he stands, and then starts to cry, there's an exhausted smile on his face as he slides down.

it hurts, oh it always does.

it hurts so damn much, and yet he can’t stop coming here- and no matter how hurt he is, no matter how much pain he feels, no matter how broken he gets, it's still never enough is it?

he still returns to him, or others. he still comes back to be broken, torn apart.

and god, each time after- through the bewitching words septimus weaves, like blades through his skin, he’s always left feeling as if nobody will ever truly care for him that way again, obsessive sick love.

he doesn't know what septimus would do if he told him how much he adores him.

he doesn't know how he would bear with never seeing the worst of his coping mechanisms ever again.

but it's the only thing that keeps him feeling sane.

lower than dirt, lower than worms, there he is.

it’s not that he didn’t love hunter, oh he loved him. but an animal untrained is unrestrained in its behaviour.

a sharp beak picks apart fine rabbit bones, it’s instinct. it’s all he knows.

affection is something that cannot be afforded to morons, where his hands trace only bruises are left- his existence was bloody destruction, tearing apart the things he wishes he could care for whenever he is left without a muzzle around his head.

restraint was not something that he was ever taught. joy was not a privilege an animal like him deserved.

every feeling of joy, affection, and love was counteracted by a feeling of anger, disgust, and most of all; hatred. hatred for hunter for instilling the feelings of sin within him, a hatred for himself for daring to feel that way, a hatred for what was lost, what was never given, and what he cannot do.

contradiction was something he knew very well. the contradiction of being desired yet never loved, the contradiction of wanting love but not being able to give it, of being trained like a refined pet and yet rabid like a feral dog.

the things he would do to fix himself. pull out teeth, rip out nails, but nothing could ever kill the filth that was weaved finely into his entire being, a silk of only the worst he could do, never anything good coming out of him.

oh, it wasn’t that he hated hunter, no. it was that he hated himself.

to have someone who still accepted him was something he hated, something he wished would not happen, he curses anyone who forgives his sin. but he still never refuses it; a feeling of being starved, he longs for someone to treat him normally. but he can't treat anyone normally himself, the hands of a sinner. bubbling up.

it always ends the same.

bloody hands, bloody apartment, the taste of regret at the back of his throat and yet intoxication at the only affection he could afford. bloody love, the sign of the heathen he was always meant to be. created to hurt, created to suffer, created to destroy.

he wasn’t human anymore, he was something else by now he was sure of. sins pile up and twist one's form. maybe he never was one.

hunter didn’t- hunter did not come to him for love. no, he came for… other reasons to be sure, but septimus didn’t mind being used, even pain and fear, tears rolling off one’s face, could feel like being loved after being starved of it, he knew that very well himself.

so when he was asked not to tear, not to hurt, but to restrain himself, he was… anxious, afraid.

sweetness from each kiss hunter gave him, he didn't know how to reciprocate that, his hands wrap around hunters wrists, loosely as to not make him bleed as he always does.

refreshing intoxication emanates from hunter as his warmth does, to be so gentle with a monster was a virtue he was so jealous of.

disgust builds up at the back of his throat.

rotted bile, rotted mind, rotted morals.

unreciprocative trash

hunters voice was quiet, painfully kind as he speaks, “septimus?” he mumbles, and even though he doesn't answer hunter continues, “this… this might be really out of nowhere, i’m sorry..” he whispers, and as septimus hears the way that hunters voice gets choked up he wishes, he could tear flesh from bone, his throat hurting as if a ball were stuck in it, constricting flesh around the obstruction.

constricting hatred around the obstruction.

“i just- i... i like this, i think” he said, and the bile growing in the back of his throat couldn’t be more distracting, this wasn’t right and it wasn’t something that should happen “i like us, i love us like this-” and before he finishes the sentence septimus steps away.

he hated this. he hated himself for the way he acted, when he leaves he doesn’t say a word.

he almost wants to laugh at the irony of it all, something once so holy, so pure- now twisted.

wingless angel, the means he would go to so that he could feel human. but he still wasn’t one despite it all, even when tearing feathers from flesh, flesh from bone, his wings removed from his body by his own hands, he only turned into a monster. a snarling rabid beast.

the memory of hunter running his hands along the scars on his back crosses his mind. 'how did this happen?' the rabbit asks, he had never answered, it's not that hunter wouldn't understand, more than anyone else he would, but it's that he still felt shame- he still wanted to be more than...

more than a pet bird.

he had seen a beautiful girl once; from afar, a long time ago, rabbit ears on her head, a tail behind. hair and fur like acorn brown silk, soft and warm, eyes deep, dark shades of a midnight hue of brown.

and just when he finds himself starting to get lost in them, he feels his mistress' heels click on the floor, and he stands upright again, looking to her with a practised 'loving' smile, but his eyes were empty as he stares at the woman.

she runs hands along the white dove-like wings he once had, that he swears he can still feel burning in pain, and he tells her every sweet nothing she wants to hear.

his mistress.

he was below even a doormat.

today that beautiful 'girl' had sat before him again, now a boy he feels hopelessly in love (?) with. his hair and eyes as beautiful as he remembers, now close he can look at every freckle on his face, like stars to the dark sky in his eyes, he has piercings and tattoos now, and on his body septimus could trace a thousand scars with a thousand stories.

some like his, some by him, some for other reasons.

but he can't take what he dishes, unending adoration, unconditional love- from him, sick and twisted, but from him... like sun rays kissing his skin.

the scars on his back burn.

vomit sits below his face, cast out like the feelings he was not worthy of, that he didn’t deserve to experience. the disgusting taste covers his mouth, and the acid makes his throat burn, he lets out a groan as he stares at it in disgust for a few seconds before going to wash his face.

cold water makes his face numb, but he still feels the nails he drags across his face.

he hates how his body rejects normality.

but no matter how much hate he bears, no matter the tears he sheds, no matter the blood he draws out of himself, it’s never enough to cleanse him of that instinct to destroy; to hurt.

there's a knock at the door as he bites into the skin of his arm, hunter’s voice rings out, “are you okay?” he asks, distress in his voice, “i heard gagging?” and septimus only glares at the door as he doesn't answer, a familiar liquid warmth running down his arm, iron taste in his mouth.

then, there’s a long silence, a silence where septimus feels the way tears try and pour out of his face, and how his breathing tightens further, choking silently with his hatred of himself, his weakness, silently suffocating any of the tears that he may have shed.

“i…” the voice is quiet, septimus thinks that hunter is leaning against the door now with how his voice is muffled, “i’m worried. i.... care about you, okay?" a pause, he cringes at it, he feels like hes being lied to- that's why there's that pause, if it were truth it would simply come out, "can you let me in?” he asks, and septimus feels the shaky breath he lets out, panic makes his skin feel as if pins dig into it, he hits the wall with his uninjured fist.

a nervous smile crawls onto his face as he feels his chest rise and fall faster and faster, “and i don’t. only love you for the blood you spill, fucking leave.” he says a fearful chuckle escaping him.

his body burns with adrenaline. fear, anxiety, and hatred, all in one disgusting mixed concoction. he hears the slow- and then fast footsteps as hunter walks away, the closing of the door, and when he does he pulls his head back slowly and suddenly, harshly, bangs it against the door.

surely, it was hard enough to leave a bruise.

and as the pain on his head pulses he slumps down, his tears and hyperventilated breaths finally coming out, like a waterfall, a wash of relief over him, the stabbing of hatred and guilt piercing his heart.

and then he hits his head against the door again. and again. and again. and he continues doing so until his breathing calms down.

unholy mind and body joined together, the twisting of a dove, the beast he is now doesn't deserve love like what hunter wishes to give him- it’s better to hurt himself than to let him ‘love’. put your hands inside the cage and you know what you’re gonna get, to get your fingers torn from that is a question of one’s own stupidity, a stupidity that was like a grace to him, but to open the cage was too reckless, even the beast knew that.

the hunger for what he doesn’t deserve makes him feel almost insane, despite his knowledge that he only feeds and does not reciprocate.

regret does make him feel insane, however.

the knowledge he hurt hunter is something he's not surprised by at all, and yet still wishes would not happen, but beak and claws do not love like mouths and hands, an animal like him just wasn’t made for love.

you cannot do something over and over and expect a different result.

#original whump #whump #pet whump #fantasy whump #carewhumper #intimate whumper #whump writers #[mentally insane freakish gay person voice] my favourite ocs! hunter and septimus <333 i love them #not favourite favourite but i do love them an abnormal amount #hunter going omg i love this man hes the most beauitful man ever #and then next sentence saying he has holes in his wall and trash on th efloor is so funny to me #baby..... get better. get well. god #if its not clear.#hunter goes to see septimus willingly and this entire... Thing was consentual.#:/ gay people are awful <- is gay #on the other hand. septimus knows he only comes to get hurt by him #“its all he knows” whatever whatever gay boy go back to twinking you slug #and the whole. thing he has with hurting people is also because he doesnt know how to do normal intimacy #he was a romantic so he doesnt exactly have an idea of how sex is normally supposed to go #and either way it also makes him very uncomfortable and disgusted unless if hes In Control and hurting the other person #and not in a regular kinky way #and hunter just. this is also all he knows. he takes comfort in being hurt like this because at least its familiar #this isnt mentioning the fact he Does get a boyfriend who is. quite normal in how he treats him #but is also... abusive. like he doesnt get treated like This but its still abusive and since its Unfamiliar Abuse it really affects hunter #this is also a custom bbu universe #uhhh. here the 'pets' are genetically modified to look however the buyer wants them to look like #so hunter does actually have rabbit features and septimus used to have white hair and wings and was supposed to look like an angel #that is. before he tore his wings off and started dying his hair #i have so much more story for these 2 btw #their ocs from like... 2020

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taemin-eternal · 2 years ago

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#meow meow n pookie reunion let’s goooooo <333 #i love them a normal amount 🙂#also jaehyun is so pale omg

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bookshelf-dust · 9 months ago

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baby love, my baby love

gif by @corrodedcherry

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1,880

warnings: swearing, reader had a not so good day, some hair washing, reader is nude in a non-sexual way, casual intimacy, lots of lovey-dovey things

a/n: hello! i am still very tentatively getting back into writing, but i wanted to write something sweet and comforting and soft and all those things. and eddie is the best provider of all that. this is so cute i almost made myself nauseous. lemme know what you think!! happy reading!!! <333 lots of love

————

“Where’s my girl at?”

Eddie’s voice rings throughout your small apartment, echoing slightly due to it not being fully furnished. His tone is almost giddy, words taking on a little twang after having spent the day working with Wayne.

You bury your face deeper into your pillow, fighting a smile at the way he speaks to you. From your place on the bed, you hear his keys smack the wall as he hangs them up, hear his boots thudding across the kitchen tiles as he makes his way to you.

When Eddie appears in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his arms are raised, fingers working to quickly tie his hair up in a knot. His biceps flex with the movement, drawing your eye to his pale skin. A brilliant smile spreads across his face upon seeing you.

“Hey, bug,” he says.

You flush. You never thought you’d allow someone to call you love bug, let alone any variation of it. You certainly didn’t think you’d like it. It’s who’s saying it that’s converted you.

You’re laying on your stomach, hands crushed under your cheek. You try to smile back at him, but it comes out much less enthusiastic than normal. It’s a very tired gesture.

Eddie notices, kicking off his shoes and crouching before you. “What’s the matter sweet girl? You’re wearing your outside clothes still, and you look pretty pitiful.”

At least he’s honest.

You blink and let your eyes flutter shut. “Long day. Headache. Upset.”

He brings his hand to your face, brushing his fingers over your temples. “Oh, I’m sorry, bug. I know you just wanna feel all better. Is that it?”

You nod, eyes still closed. He starts to laugh playfully just because of how pitiful you really do look, at how small and scrunched up you’ve made yourself. When he kisses your cheek, you feel his smile against your skin. It makes you beam, despite how you feel. The tingle Eddie’s lips leave behind makes it seem like the first time no matter how long it's been. You’re all soft for him, and there’s no denying it. But hell, he’s the same way.

“How about…” he trails off, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, tickling your lower back where your sweater has ridden up. “How about I take care of you? Run you a bath, for starters? I know you like that.”

Your eyes open, happy to think about how nice it would feel to sink your tired body into a hot basin full of bubbles. “Okay, Teddy.”

“Yeah? C’mere then,” Eddie says gently, holding his hands out to encourage you to sit up. You slowly push yourself away from the mattress, and he easily pulls you to stand. “I’ll get the water warmed up for you.”

You give him a poor little salute, making him laugh, and then stick your fingers through his belt loop so you don’t have to do as much on the short walk to the bathroom. When you get there, Eddie bends to cut the water on and push the drain plug down. You wrap your arms around his waist and fold yourself against his warm back. You close your eyes once again, hearing him squirt a hefty amount of bubble bath into the tub. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flood the bathroom.

The plastic top clicks shut and Eddie rises, grabbing hold of your hands and spinning around in your grip.

“Don’t like seein’ you all drained, baby,” he says. Eddie’s hands cradle your face, long and pale fingers beginning to rub at your temples. It feels so nice to have that pressure be pushed away, to feel his body so close to yours. At this rate, you’ll forget you even had a headache.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Eddie asks. “Or do you just want to have a chill night?”

You open your eyes and push up on your toes to kiss his nose. “The latter,” you say.

He chuckles, knowing you never used that term until you started reading Jane Austen.

“M’kay, bug. That works for me.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “You want a kiss? I think you deserve a good one.”

That gets you to practically melt. I fucking love this woman, Eddie thinks. He feels breathless each time you look at him that way. You look at him like he hung the stars, like he is your knight in shining armor. He kisses you in that way that thanks you for making him feel so loved. So cherished.

You thread your hands in Eddie’s hair, fingers pulling at the chunk at the nape of his neck where it’s most sensitive. His mouth is warm against yours. He smiles at your playfulness, breaking away to kiss both cheeks.

He bends and drags a finger through the water. “It’ll be plenty warm enough in a second, bug.”

You give him a tired thank you squeeze as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“Need help undressing?” he inquires, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.

You gently backhand his stomach, watching as he feigns severe injury. “Perv,” you joke.

Eddie sits down on the toilet seat lid so that he can be prepared to turn the water off when he deems the tub full enough for you. Really he’d just like to see you surrounded by a huge pile of bubbles for his own amusement, but also because he knows it’ll be the thing to coax that pure, joyous laugh out of you. The sound he’d bottle and keep on his nightstand if he could.

You remove the little bit of makeup you’d been wearing with a cotton pad, sighing in relief to have it all off. You take out your earrings and slip off your rings, setting them in an ashtray on the counter you’ve been repurposing ever since Eddie decided to cut back on his smoking.

You take off each of your socks, one hand gripping the countertop for balance. As you slip your belt off, Eddie finishes preparing your bath and turns to face you. He holds his arms out, ready to collect your dirty clothes and accessories so that he can put them in their rightful places.

He takes your belt from you only to be cheeky, snapping the thick leather as loud as he can manage. He makes himself laugh.

You turn to the side when you unbutton your jeans, flushing and shy at his attention even after all this time. Even knowing how beautiful he finds your body. How much he loves how soft you are. After all, your body allows you to live. It allows you to spend time with him, and that is all he’ll ever ask for. It doesn’t matter to him what state your body is in because it is yours. And you are his.

Eddie smiles watching you shimmy out of your snug jeans. You hand him your pants and t-shirt, now only in your bra and underwear. You don’t give yourself the time to be self-conscious, longing for the hot bath water. You turn and quickly unclasp your bra. Eddie playfully flicks your bum. It always deserves appreciation in his eyes.

When you hand him the last of your items, he presses the sweetest kiss to your tummy, thumbs rubbing at the indentations left on your chest from your bras underwire, as if he can make them go away just by sheer will.

“I love you, bug,” Eddie says, looking up at you with those watery doe eyes. His kisses your stomach again.

“I love you same, Teddy. Now let me take my bath. It’s rather chilly in this house, don’t you think? I refuse to freeze.”

Eddie laughs to himself as he walks off, taking your clothes to the hamper and storing your bra and belt elsewhere. He never could’ve imagined a world where preparing a bath for his partner would make him as happy as it does.

————

Eddie is kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your back is pressed against the side of the tub, and he’s washing your hair. Well, really he’s already given it the scrub and cleanse that it needed, now he’s just trying to make weird shapes out of it.

After you’d sat in the warm water until your toes pruned without actually bathing, he jokingly offered to do your hair while you washed your body.

You hadn’t even thought about it. You were enjoying the way the bubbles came up to your chin, the way you were completely encapsulated in the safety of them. The way Eddie sat there on the rug, telling you about his day. About the different things he’d fixed on which cars—nothing you understood in any fashion, but something you always wanted to hear about.

“You could make good money doing this, you know. You’re very talented,” you quip, scrubbing your calf with a washcloth.

Eddie snorts, kissing your wet shoulder blade. “What? Give head massages?”

You ring out your rag, having completed your washing ritual and made sure everything got the attention it deserves.

“Mhm. That felt so good.”

You pull the drain plug up, letting the water out. Eddie stands and acts as though his back is going to give out on him. You quickly turn the shower on, just so you can make sure you got all the conditioner out of your hair and feel completely clean. Eddie has never done this rinsing routine after a bath, but loves to see you do your little happy dance when you’re all clean and wrapped up in a towel.

He holds out a hand as you step over the rim of the tub, bowing for added effect. “How was your bath, m’lady?”

You lead the way out of the bathroom, on a search for pajamas. “I’d say it was the best bath I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking, good sir.”

You hug your fuzzy towel to your chest, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss Eddie’s full lips. He blushes at the eye contact you’re giving him. He knows how it makes you nervous, but getting to have all of your attention like that makes him tingly.

“Thank you for helping me, Teddy.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

You turn to the side, gripping a round, wooden handle and pulling open your top dresser drawer. Eddie kisses your cheek. Sometimes you think Eddie’s kisses are lifesaving. They’ve surely contributed to your stability. They’re healing. And so is the way he cares for the people he loves. The way he so effortlessly does things just because he only wants to see you happy.

Eddie ends up picking out your pajamas while you pick out his. You’re in your own bottoms, but one of his Iron Maiden t-shirts. You told him you should match, so he pointed you in the direction of another, and you made sure to choose pants for him that had red in them, just like yours.

Before you can sit down on your shared bed, Eddie takes your hand and leans down to whisper in your ear. His chin brushes your jaw, lips parting in a bright grin before the words ever leave his mouth.

“Now, what do you think about going to get milkshakes?”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader fluff

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puripurin · 10 months ago

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— "What the fuck." You started at the merman who wriggled around for space. His eyes looked at you in fear as he saw you, before a blush had spread across his face.

Up until 30 seconds ago, you had lived a normal life, well, except for the obscene amount of work you were stressed out with. So you hopped on the boat your parents had gifted you some years ago and sailed into the sea. The feel of the ocean breeze hitting your face was a familiar sensation to you.

This was because your parents were fishermen and loved to eat seafood, and naturally, you had gravitated towards seafood, but with prices these days and your never-ending workload, it didn't allow you to do anything without setting you back on your tight deadlines. Until today.

You had gotten a whole week of paid vacation because a coworker was threatening to bring them to court for a long list of harassment. So they gave the people who worked the most a one week paid vacation. Though, to her, it wasn't enough, so you're getting a paid vacation week while they are still going to get sued. Whatever, its their fault either way.

Anyways, how did you reel in a merman that shouldn't even exist? Frankly, you don't know either. You had accidentally started to daydream, which turned into you not realizing something was caught, so instinctively, you were able to reel in a merman.

"H-huuuumann?" His deep moss green eyes stared at up at you with interest whilst you nearly got blinded by the shimmering gleem of his scales that were scattered across his cheeks. He stopped his advancements towards you until it was difficult to hold up his neck to see you.

"Erm... sorry for catching you, I was daydreaming. I'll unhook the fish hook attached to you..." You apologized and went down to unhook him, only for him to pull down your pants and underwear down, making you fall on the bench below you and stuffing his face in your genitals.

"Hey! W-what are you doing?" You pushed his face away, to which he pouted to. He sat there for a while as you tried to push him off the boat, to no avail.

"I... Accceppt thhis marrriaage!" He excitedly said as he tugged on your pants to gently pull it off again, but you held on tightly to your pants.

"What marriage? I didn't propose to you?" You evaded from his pulling hands in confusion.

"Whennn youuu reeeeledd mmeee inn dummmyy!" He slurred his words once more. "Shtop! I waant too tasstte you firrst beeforrre you tassteeee mee!" He huffed before his nails turned into sharp claws that shreaded your pants, then pulled down your underwear again and happily stuffing his face and licking your crotch with his tongue that felt rough.

Once more, you tried to move away but only ended up moaning at the feeling. Your face was slightly hot as you looked away but was swiftly pulled back in for a kiss, tasting your own fluids.

"Ah... finally... now it's your turn, cutie pie. We have to go to my hometown to get married <3"

"WHAT!?!? Firstly, no! Secondly, i will drown!"

"... Who said you can say no? When you reeled me, it was akin to a marriage proposal. Also, that's why you suck my dick and kiss me <333"

"WHAT--"

Was supposed to be posted yesterday, but when i saved a portion of it, i didn't see that i was save so i went back in to edit it to see what's rong before i saved it and for a slpilt second i saw the rest of it before it saved, so i lost majority of my work.

So now it looks like tjis. Womp womp. I think tjis is an afab reader? But i tried to make it gn as possible but i wannted a weird ass mermaid culture where to speak another's language, you gotta eat them out/suck them off before kissing person to speak. At first i wanted him to just kiss in order to get the language js like starfire but i was like,, so what do i do with him tryna eat you out??,, then boom yeahh.

Also, yo quero voy en me casaaaaaa *cries pathetically* No me gusta Español :((((((( not proofread. L

Edit: i forgot about tags. Mb.

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader

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squonkinaswamp · 1 year ago

Text

AS A MITSKI LISTENER I CAN CONFIRM THIS IS ALL ENTIRELY ACCURATE

using my credentials as a top .1% mitski listener for two years in a row i have brought you mitski KL classifications

recommendations/strong matches are bolded

Laurel Hell // Be The Cowboy // Puberty 2 // Bury Me At Makeout Creek // Retired from a Sad, New, Career in Business // Lush

Keith

Everyone

Valentine, Texas

Stay Soft

Love Me More

A Pearl

A Horse Named Cold Air

Blue Light

Washing Machine Heart

I Bet on Losing Dogs

Thursday Girl

I Will

I Don't Smoke

First Love/Late Spring

Humpty

I Want You

Strawberry Blond

Wife

Door

Lance

The Only Heartbreaker

There's Nothing Left For You

Working For The Knife

Nobody

Me and My Husband

Lonesome Love

Remember My Name

Fireworks

A Burning Hill

Texas Reznikoff

Townie

Francis Forever

Carry Me Out

Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart

Brand New City

Abbey

Both/either/interchangeable

Heat Lightning

Geyser

Come Into The Water

Pink in the Night

Two Slow Dancers

Once More to See You

anything not listed has been given careful consideration but would be too much of a reach to apply to them and/or is too personally about experiences of the human condition mitski herself has lived

Im open to healthy debate on any of these but just know i come armed with explanations for all

#A PEARL IS SO KEITHCORE #I’M YOUR MAN IS ALSO VERY KEITHCORE #love me more is very very very keithcore #BLUE LIGHT BLUE LIGHT BLUE LIGHT <333 #STAY SOFTTTT KEITHCORE #humpty oh my god yes #and for LANCE omg when memories snow is perfect #REMEMBER MY NAME IS THE MITSKI LANCECORE SONG #the only heartbreaker yes yes yes #there’s nothing left for you omg lancecore #heat lightning and geyser are so klancecore btw both of them #rHrahhrahh #I like mitski and klance a Normal Amount #klance #not art

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goxjo · 4 months ago

Note

omg the way you write wbk boys makes me dizzy.. love it sm. do you have any thots of suo that you’d like to share

nooonnniiiiie ૮꒰/ฅ//ฅ//꒱ა thank you for this ask !! I used to like him a normal amount, but because of two particular fanarts of him (and a few people from a lovely wb server I’m in), I’m afraid he’s aaalmost up there with my top 3 ;;

ANYWHO I think he would do very well in handling a partner who’s very shy but also very kinky <333

warnings: afab! reader, degradation + humiliation, choking, creampie, cum eating, likes to edge you in public, poor sakura, mean! suo, yeah I definitely like him a little mean sorry <3 (18+ only)

mean boyf! suo who on the outside, treats you like the proper gentleman that he is. In public or while hanging out with his friends, he always appears to be whispering sweet nothings into your ear. It’s impossible to tell what you guys got going on as he’s always got that signature smile on his face - the one that’s known to either melt girls down to their knees or set off an opponent. All they know is, you’re very much invested in whatever he has to say. Good or bad, they could never tell.

On the inside, behind closed doors, within close proximity, or whatever, he likes to treat you like the filth that you are. Little do they know, he’s been secretly telling you over and over how much of a minx you really are for deceiving the people around you, himself included. You appear to be so sweet and innocent- so shy and gullible. But you always crave the feeling of his hands wrapped around your throat, always desperately begging for his cock to fill you up.

He lets you know he wonders how his friends would react if they knew of the filth that comes out of your mouth, you practically have to cry out to him, praying he fills you with his load till your thighs are sticky from all the seed that drips from you. He fucks you even when you’re stuffed full. Cum oozes out of your cunt, squelching with every roll of his hips. And you love the mess - the mess the two of you make, because at the end of it all, he gets to lick your pussy clean.

“Wonder how they’d react if I told them just how needy you are, hm?”

He ignores every single one of of your protests. You’re afraid someone might overhear. What would they think of you? They’d look at you differently. He pushes you over the edge sometimes it makes you want to cry, but he chuckles even as tears prickle your eyes. He tells you, “C’mon. Don’t act like you’re not wet from the thought alone of getting exposed. I know you’re drenched right now. Want me to tell Sakura? Want me to have him watch as I stuff you over and over again, spilling out every one of your dirty little secrets?”

And he’s right on the money. Every single syllable that comes out of his mouth tickles your core, so much that it forces you to ball your hand in a fist, squeezing it between your legs. Never mind the look of wonder on his friends’ faces seeing you unable to sit still in your chair while Suo’s lips are practically glued to your ear.

And god you need friction. You need his tongue, his hands, his lips. You need him to throw you a bone and fuck you with it, anything.

“See what you did? You can’t control yourself even out in public, you just caught Sakura’s eye. Poor guy, no wonder he’s beet red.”

“H-hayato, can’t take it anymore. Please, I need you.”

“Hm? What if- Sakura and I switch places tonight?”

#nani?!#nonnie chan ♡#!requests #!love letters #!texts #!wb #!suo #suo hayato #suo x reader #suo smut #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut #RE THE 2 FANARTS #one is him with a dragon tattoo by @/meowhaseyooo on x #the other one is him in a suit which I unfortunately couldn’t find anymore *SOBS*#!holic #tw degradation #tw humiliation #tw choking

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mononijikayu · 6 months ago

Text

"i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you." — gojo satoru.

And now, you realize how human Gojo Satoru was. How normal he was. How tender he was for a world that was not the same towards him. You sighed, parting from him slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He took a look towards you, as though searching for the universe behind your lilac eyes.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: in another life by son lux

NOTE: waiting for my meds to kick in and i saw the clip from everything everywhere all at once where waymond says, 'in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you' and i just thought of them....thought of genmei (you) and satoru, just enjoying this sort of life. very short but this is one to warm your heart. let's remember satoru as the man he was. as the loving human being who was fun and generous and tender. i'll be doing this for a while. until i get my head straight. in a way, this is how i'll mourn him. by remembering him lovingly <333

masterlist

u s and t h e m

YOU ALWAYS LIKED HAVING SATORU AROUND THE HOUSE. Your husband was if anything — always not at home. Even if he’d like to be, it’s not up to him. And you as much as he does, hated it. You’d always understood that. You could never feel hate for Satoru about things he genuinely could not control.

In these past few years of marriage, you were lucky if he could get the Sundays off. He’d always made the point to the higher–ups that he would never answer calls on that day. He’d like to focus on being around you, being around Tsumiki and Megumi — to be as present as possible.

But in the past few years, the number of curses had dramatically increased and the number of professional sorcerers had dwindled. Of course, you yourself felt some guilt in that. You yourself have taken a leave for almost two years now, having followed in Nanami’s footsteps. Even now, principal Gakuganji has been pressuring you for your return each and every day. But you flat out refused each and every turn, every call, every message. Satoru did not fault you for it, he understood.

Considering that you had wanted to be more attentive in giving Tsumiki and Megumi an active presence in their lives. You wanted that for Satoru too. You wanted him to know that there was always someone waiting for him to come home. That there was going to be someone that was willing to stay awake, yearning for him to return every day and every night. He had always been so gleeful about that — smug even.

Because he had something to live for. He had something to look forward to when the days get rough with the amount of curses he’d have to go through left and right. He didn’t mind that your duties in the jujutsu world became his own. What mattered was that he had Megumi and Tsumiki and you, his precious wife.. He couldn’t ask for anything more. He’d brag to Shoko and his sister about how he had someone waiting for him to come home.

"You know," Satoru began, a playful glint in his eye, "I brag to Shoko and my sister about how I have someone waiting for me to come home."

You looked up from the cutting board, a smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, really? And what exactly do you tell them?"

He grinned, leaning casually against the counter. "I tell them about how you're always here, making the place feel like home. How you cook amazing dinners and make sure everything runs smoothly."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "You're exaggerating, Satoru. I'm just doing what anyone would."

He shook his head, his expression turning more serious. "No, you're not. You make all the difference. Coming home to you... it's everything. It makes all the craziness worth it."

Your heart warmed at his words, and you set down the knife, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. "Well, for the record, I brag about you too."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? To whom? And what do you say?"

“To the mothers at Tsumiki and Megumi’s school,” You grinned at him. "I tell them about how my precious husband always manages to juggle being the busiest person I know and still you always make time for me, even when you're exhausted. And how you make me feel safe and loved, no matter what. How you make Tsumiki and Megumi feel happy and safe—seen and cared for.”

Satoru's cerulean eyes softened, and he reached out to take your hand in his. "I'm glad you feel that way. Because that's all I want—for you to feel safe and loved."

You squeezed his hand, the connection between you palpable in the quiet kitchen. "I do, Satoru. Every day."

He smiled, the kind that lit up his entire face. "Good. Because I plan on bragging about you for a long time."

And so, now that he also gets calls on Sundays, Gojo Satoru makes the most of anything and everything — every moment was important for him to measure up to. Today was one of those rare, precious days off for your husband, and you both intended to savor every moment of it.

The usually bustling Gojo residence was quiet and peaceful, with Tsumiki and Megumi still out for the day. They were still in school, doing some more club activities. Megumi took up baseball, while Tsumiki took on band music. So you and Satoru wouldn’t have to go to school until 5:30 pm. It was only 4:00pm. And so you were adamant to start prepping for dinner — so that when you all got home, the hotpot would just need some cooking. You were there again in your turf, the kitchen, as you hummed a song that’s been stuck in your head for a while.

As you sliced the vegetables with practiced ease, you could hear your husband Satoru enter the room. He had taken off his usual blindfold, and opted for his round dark glasses. Your husband had a habit of taking even the round glasses when he’s around you. But you know it hurts his head to even do so.

He’d pout and he’d stomp all about, saying how he just wanted to see how pretty you were. But you always stood your ground. Still, you could still feel how revealing those striking blue eyes glaring at you even when they’re covered up. They always seemed to see right through you.

Satoru sighed contentedly, his thumb still gently brushing over your knuckles as he watched you chop. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board was soothing, a small anchor in the storm of your lives. His presence beside you felt like a protective shield, his love and strength enveloping you like a warm embrace. He leaned against the counter, watching you with a contented smile. The quiet hum of domesticity felt foreign yet comforting.

"You know," he said softly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence, "Sometimes I envy the ordinary people. They have no idea about the world we live in, the dangers we face. Their biggest concerns are mundane things like bills and grocery lists."

You looked at him, a somber smile on your lips. "It's the simplicity we crave, isn't it? The idea of living a life where our biggest worry is what's for dinner, not the next life-or-death battle."

Satoru's cerulean eyes sparkled for a moment. "Exactly, y’know? Rare for us to get moments where we can pretend, just for a little while, that we're just like everyone else."

You smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for the man standing beside you. "And those rare moments mean everything. They remind us why we fight, why we keep going."

He pulls at your other hand, taking it to his own as you gasped. He presses a kiss on your palm. "You always know how to put things into perspective."

“You know, you don’t bring up these things unless you’re thinking a lot.”

He grins. “Oh, but who says I’m thinking a lot?"

“My love, I’ve known you long enough to know you only talk when you feel like you can’t keep it inside anymore.” You say, putting your knife aside and squeezing the hand he occupies with his own. ”Tell me, what's on your mind?"

He hesitated as he stayed silent. He didn’t know how to say it, having to close and then open his mouth. Satoru was just like that too, when you met him. He took a moment before he just sighed deeply, his expression softening.

"I don't want to be doing this anymore," he said quietly, almost to himself.

You stopped mid–chop and turned to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. "Doing what?" you asked, needing clarification.

"This!" he repeated, gesturing vaguely around him in the empty space like a mad man."Well, not our life. That’s the best part. But I’m…… I’m always away and I miss this, y’know? I miss having to just be here. Enjoying this. I miss it a lot, darling.”

“Satoru, my love, you can’t help it if you’re busy.” You say to him tenderly, sending him a soft smile. “That’s your job.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” He says as he lowers his gaze, his lips tight in a prominent pout. He sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “I know that it’s wishful thinking but I just…y’know? What if I don’t have to? What if I just left? What if we just got to Hida and hid forever? All the fighting, the constant danger……the weight of being the strongest. It’s taxing, darling.”

You looked at him, your eyes echoing pain at his words. You walked over to him, his bright blue eyes not leaving your own lilac ones. You opened your arms and knowing Infinity is down when he’s with you, wrapped your arms around him. He settles in your touch rather quickly, resting his chin against your shoulder as he wrapped his own strong arms against your own.

“Is that what you want?” You ask him in a small whisper, looking at him as though trying to make sure he’s sure. “Would you not regret leaving it all behind?”

“I want this, I'm sure I am." he continued, his voice taking on a more wistful tone. “I’m sure I am.”

“But what about your work—”

“I just…” He leans against you even more. "This little suburban, quaint type of the normal sort of peace. All I want in life. I don’t wanna hear the depths of some curse’s stimulation, darling. Just…. Just wanna hear your breath or the rhythm you have when you chop the veggies for the hotpot. ‘miki’s violin strings when she practices before breakfast, ‘gumi’s little chants in secret when he watches the baseball league by himself. Just…..just want this.”

If you hadn’t fallen for him years ago, you think you would have fallen for him now. His words hung in the air, heavy with longing and sincerity. Your heart was enraptured by him, completely.

It was always hard for Satoru to be honest with his feelings. You’ve known that the first time you met him, when Yaga forced you to check on your new special grade sorcerers. When he first spoke to you, all of his words sounded ever so pretentious. Annoyingly so. But over time, you realized much about him. You learned much about him. You started to embrace him.

"Gojo Satoru," you said softly, your eyes searching for him beneath all that cerulean hue. "I swear to you, my love, this life or the next — in another life, I would've really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you."

He chuckled, a soft, genuine sound that made your heart swell. His cheeks were red scarlet as he looked at you bashfully. His cerulean eyes seemed to grow even brighter, reflecting the depth of his love for you. He presses his cheek against your shoulder, resting there for a moment as though to just let his warmth be felt by your own skin. To let you know, even his warmth was for you.

"Me too." he admitted, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I imagine a life where the biggest worry we have is what to make for dinner or whether we should wash the whites separately."

You smiled, the simplicity of the idea bringing a sense of warmth and peace. "That sounds perfect."

Satoru's gaze softened as he leaned in closer. "You know, I think about that sometimes. A life without all the chaos, just us. It’s nice to dream, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," you whispered, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity behind them. "But even in this life, come what may, I'm grateful to have you for all of it. I couldn’t have asked for anything more."

His fingers tightened around yours, a silent promise of his unwavering support. "And I'm grateful to have you, darling. You really are my dream, you know?”

You both laughed, the sound mingling with the quiet of the room. The idea of such a mundane life felt strangely appealing, a stark contrast to the chaos and danger that defined your existence now. But at that moment, it was a dream worth holding onto.

"Maybe one day, we’ll have it." you said, squeezing his hand. "It’s not impossible, hm?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and determination. "Yeah, it’s not.”

For now, though, you both knew your responsibilities were far from over. The weight of the jujutsu world and its relentless demands pressed heavily on your shoulders, but this stolen moment of peace, this shared dream of a simpler life, was enough to sustain you through the battles yet to come.

“I love you, Satoru. Whatever happens.”

He grins at you, kissing your cheek tenderly.

“I love you too, darling. Always and forever.”

You were living the best of life, loving him.

epilogue

The aroma of the hotpot filled the kitchen, promising a delicious meal. You and Satoru were still wrapped in your own little world, working together seamlessly as you finished up the preparations. Meanwhile, in the dining room, Tsumiki and Megumi were setting the table, so that you can eat soon after the hotpot is cooked and done.

Tsumiki hummed happily as she placed the plates and utensils, a bright smile on her face. "It's so nice to see them like this," she said, glancing back towards the kitchen where Satoru was playfully teasing you as you stirred the pot. “its so lovely again!"

Megumi, however, was less than thrilled. He sighed dramatically, his shoulders slumping as he set down the last of the chopsticks. "I swear, Gojo-san is like a clingy puppy. It's like he can't do anything without being attached to her."

Tsumiki giggled, nudging her brother. "Oh, come on, Megumi. It's sweet. They're happy, and that's all that matters."

Megumi rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, yeah, I guess. But do they have to be so... mushy about it?"

Just then, Satoru's laughter echoed from the kitchen. "Hey, be careful! You almost burned my hand!" he teased, making you laugh in response. “Darling!~”

“Satoru, be careful or the pot will fall!”

“Ah, but I wanna hug you some more!”

“The kids won’t have dinner if I crash on this pot! Satoru—"

"Blegh! Just one more squeeze! Stop pushing me back!"

"Gojo Satoru, if we starve tonight, it would be your fault!"

Tsumiki placed the last napkin on the table and turned to Megumi, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "See? Everything is right in the world when they're like this. Besides, it's good to see Satoru–san relaxed for once."

Megumi sighed in feign annoyance. But Tsumiki was sure that there was a hint of affection in his eyes as he watched Satoru lean over to kiss your cheek.

"Yeah, I guess you're right……As long as they're happy, I guess…..we’ll be able to deal with it."

As you and Satoru brought the steaming hotpot to the table, Tsumiki clapped her hands together. "Dinner is ready! Everything looks delicious. Thank you so much for your hard work!”

Satoru beamed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "All thanks to my amazing partner here," he said, giving you a squeeze. “We can eat well tonight!”

You smiled in tandem with your blush, playfully swatting his arm. "And the help of our wonderful family."

Megumi shook his head. "Alright, enough with the love fest. Let's eat."

Tsumiki giggled, taking her seat. "Don't worry, Megumi. One day, you'll find someone who makes you as happy as they make each other."

Satoru smirked, ruffling Megumi's hair. "Yeah, and then we'll tease you mercilessly about it.”

Megumi groaned, swatting Satoru's hand away. "Shut up!”

“Darling, our son’s being mean to me again~”

You smiled at both of them. “I’m not getting involved!”

“But darling!”

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whoistartaglia · 1 year ago

Note

HII! Could i request zhongli,Xiao and ayato with a reader whos rich asf and spoils them with stuff,Like for zhongli he may be a bit broke but then reader comes in and now bros able to go on a shopping spree,Xiao who js "tch"s and says its kinda pointless but does accept it and idk abt ayato but yeah- HOPE IM NOT RUDE!! But do remember to rest and take breaks after <333

i love this request anon <3 thank you so much

absolutely spoiling genshin men because they deserve it

zhongli

the waiters at the restaurants you and zhongli frequent have learned to put the check down in front of you, not him.

it was a steep learning curve. your boyfriend is so naturally put together and wears such expensive clothes that who wouldn’t think he’s worth a million mora and more? but after the first several times of you grabbing the check, barely looking at the total, and putting down the correct amount and more, they learned you were the one to go to.

although there was one time this golden rule was broken. you and zhongli were returning from a shopping spree—on you, of course, considering the dust in zhongli’s wallet—when you decided to grab dinner. the waiter welcomed you with a polite smile and took your orders.

everything was going as normal, except for that when the check came, it was zhongli who reached for it, zhongli who glanced at the total, and zhongli who paid.

the waiter was polite enough not to drop open his mouth for too long and quickly accepted the total and generous tip. he turned, thankful and muttering something about buying a lottery ticket, and didn’t catch zhongli sheepishly sliding you your credit card under the table.

xiao

“i have no use for such mortal—“

“will you please just try on this shirt?”

xiao glares at you, but it’s half-hearted at best. he grabs the shirt and enters the changing room. the shopping spree was your idea, of course, and after a little but of grumbling, xiao relented to your financial whims.

“how does it fit?” you call out. xiao pokes his head our of the dressing room, and then steps out. his face has a subtle frown on it, but you dismiss that as him getting tired—this is the eighth store you’ve visited, after all.

“it looks great!” you compliment. you turn to the store associate. “we’ll buy it.” you hand over your credit card and they hurry off.

you turn back to xiao and find his frown has curled into an exasperated smile.

“you do realize that’s the tenth shirt you bought for me today.”

“so?” you ask. you cross your arms and pretend to pout. xiao opens his mouth to say something else, maybe tell you off for spending so much money on him, but doesn’t. he only kind of sighs and heads back into the changing room, making a mental note to never agree to another shopping spree again (even though he totally will).

ayato

when the check lands on the table, it is as if a miniature thunderstorm has started brewing in the restaurant. the waiter acknowledges the strange new tension in the air and scampers off, leaving you and ayato to face off against each other.

your hand lands on the check first, ayato’s a beat behind.

“let go,” you hiss under your breath, making sure to keep up your demure smile.

“you first.” ayato’s eyes are wicked and taunting, and his smile widens when you start to pull it towards you. it’s a dance you’ve both done several times before. this is nothing new.

“it’s my turn to pay.”

“you already paid earlier.”

“i have the money.”

ayato’s laugh is short and quick.

“so do i.”

you sigh and shake your head. you’re both so stubborn that you could dress this battle out for hours and leave the poor waiter in distress.

“fine,” you say, relenting. ayato’s eyebrows quirk up in surprise before you continue, “we’ll split the check. let me just see how much it is.”

his grip loosens by a fraction and you yank the check out, stuff in your credit card, and hand it off to the waiter before ayato can even blink.

“why you—“

“oh, please, just let me treat you—i’ll let you pay next time, okay?”

you both know that’s a lie.

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