#friends to strangers to friends to lovers

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 4.9k

summary: The one where you run into the guy who makes you believe in love all over again.

warnings: kissing, strangers to friends to lovers where they’re both a little oblivious, game mentioned is the game against philly with luke's ot goal

note: no angst?? who am i?? thank you maddy for answering my questions about luke so i could make this as accurate as possible ily

Someone once said that love comes when you least expect it and when you’re not looking for it, but you used to never believe that. You used to think that love was something you always searched for in others, that love was something everyone wanted, but you stopped believing that after it kept leaving you stranded and broken. You stopped looking for romantic love, choosing to believe that maybe it wasn’t meant for you, until one day when you’re quite literally trampled by the boy that made you believe in it all over again.

Walking the path near the water was one of your favorite pastimes since you’ve moved to the unfamiliar city. It was something that always brought you a sense of serenity whenever reality became a little too overbearing, or when you just needed a space to breathe after a particularly straining day at work. It was also your favorite way to start off your day whenever you had the time. Always a coffee in hand as you savored the peacefulness before the day truly began.

Today was one of the fortunate days when the weather wasn’t too cold that you needed more than a light jacket when you stepped outside. There weren't many people out and about as the sun had barely risen, but there were still a handful on their morning jogs or simply relaxing on the benches as they read a book. You had only looked away from the path in front of you for a brief second when you collided with something, or rather someone, and it sent your barely drank coffee to the ground, spilling all over your shoes.

“Shit,” You heard a boyish voice exclaim, his hands grasping at your biceps to keep you upright, “I’m so sorry!”

You knew it wasn’t on purpose, but you couldn’t help but grow a slight annoyance as you stared at the dropped drink. It wasn’t entirely his fault because you weren’t paying attention either and it wasn’t like you had just bought the coffee, you were just slow to drink it. Looking up at the person in front of you, your breath hitched in your throat when you saw one of the cutest guys you’d seen in the city yet. Though he looked slightly familiar, you just couldn’t place where you might have seen him.

He had a sympathetic, small smile on his face as he awkwardly dropped his hands back to his side. He had a beanie covering his hair, but there were a few strands of curls that had managed to poke out from the thick material. You were close enough to him that you can see a small scratch on the bridge of his nose that looked almost fully healed. He was quite a bit taller than you as well, his anxious eyes peering down into your own as you slowly blink at him.

“Are you okay,” He spoke again, gaze briefly filtering down to your shoes.

“Yeah,” You sigh as you step away from him, “I’m fine, but my shoes might not be.”

The both of you let out awkward chuckles before you bend down to grab the cup, slightly frowning to yourself as you bring it to your chest. When you meet his eyes again, he looks as if he was contemplating something by the way he keeps looking all around you. His hands were shoved in the pocket of his hoodie as he shifted his weight on his feet. The air is a little awkward as you think about just walking away, but he speaks before your feet ever move.

“Let me buy you a new drink,” He suggests, his voice slightly quieter than before as if he was nervous, “It’s the least I can do.”

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that,” You shake your head, “It’s no big deal. It’s just a coffee.”

“Please,” He tries, not wanting to press so hard enough he comes off desperate, “It looked almost full based on what I can see on the ground.”

You couldn’t help but notice his shy smile and hesitant eyes as he waited for your response. His cheeks and nose were slightly pink from the wind that refused to stop whipping at any exposed skin it found. He was sporting a nervous half smile as you mulled the option over in your head, trying to gather if there was any plausible reason to not let the cute boy with a crooked smile buy you another coffee.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” You agree, a smile of your own toying on your lips as you keep your gaze on him, “But only if you tell me your name first.”

“Luke,” He lightly chuckled, taking his hand out of his pocket, extending it for you to shake, “Yours?”

You gingerly took his hand in your own as you told him your name, ignoring the way his touch made your cheeks heat up and butterflies fill your stomach. You retracted your hand quickly, moving it to grasp the cup with both hands as you gestured for Luke to lead the way. You catch the way his eyes briefly dart to your cup before he began to walk the direction you had been coming from.

The two of you fell into a bit of an awkward conversation, him asking you if you were from the area and him telling you that he wasn’t either. He told you that he played professional hockey for the Devils and it clicked in your brain that that was why he looked familiar. You had seen him on TV, but you weren’t involved in the sport enough to put a name to his face. You teased him a little and playfully asked if he would get you tickets to a game, but the speed at which he said yes shocked even himself.

When Luke was handing you your new drink, that was when he told you that he was already running a bit late to some sort of meeting with his team and as much as he’d like to stay, he had to leave. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed at the news, but you ended up exchanging phone numbers before he was rushing away, still not entirely looking where he was going. You watched him leave with a smile on your face and a sort of hope filling your chest that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

The two of you had began texting each other so often that people started to ask questions. Though it had only taken three days of you quietly giggling to yourself for your roommate to ask who the guy was. Whereas for Luke, it had only taken Jack until after practice the day he had met you. Jack had never seen his younger brother rush to check his phone while still in full gear before so quickly, and that was how he knew.

You didn’t see Luke for nearly two weeks after you had initially met courtesy of the stars, also known as his games and your work schedule, never aligning in the right way. When Luke had texted you after one of his games asking if you were free the following evening and you finally got to answer with a yes, you grew excited, and also extremely nervous.

He had given you the option to go out and do something, or to come over to his place and the two of you could order food and watch movies; just hangout, he had said. You ultimately decided on the second option since the weather had grown colder and you weren’t necessarily in the mood to join the crowds of people in the city. He subtly mentioned that his brother would be gone so it would just be the two of you, and the thought made your cheeks warm despite knowing he had no underlying intentions.

When you had texted Luke to tell him you had finally found a parking spot and he told you where to go from there, you had to take a small breather in your car to get yourself to stop shaking before finally going into the expensive looking building. You were so focused on taking in all of the little details inside the lobby that you weren’t paying attention to where you were going and ran straight into someone’s chest.

You let out a surprised squeal as you squeeze your eyes closed at the impact, fully prepared to go stumbling backwards, but you never do. You can feel their hands on your hips, the pads of their fingers slightly digging into the skin separated by the material of your shirt. The soft laugh that filtered through your eyes made your eyes snap open to see a familiar face sporting an amused smile.

“At least there’s no coffee this time,” Luke teases, keeping his hands on you a tad longer than necessary before he pulls them back to his own body.

“Shut up,” You mumbled, hoping he didn’t notice the tinge to your cheeks, “I was looking at the stupid fancy decorations. I didn’t know you were going to be down here.”

“I noticed,” He chuckled, “You thought I wouldn’t meet you down here?”

“Well, no. You gave me the apartment number so I expected to meet you there,” You shrugged, forcing your gaze away from him and to your feet.

“You would’ve thought it was weird if I didn’t give you the apartment number,” He raises his eyebrows even though you aren’t looking at him, “Besides, sometimes people have trouble finding the door. It’s a little confusing.”

When you had reached the floor his apartment was on and saw that it was only one big hallway, you couldn’t help but give him a confused look. It wasn’t confusing at all, especially given the fact that his door was only the second one on the left. You could tell he was purposely avoiding looking in your direction as he pushed through the door, holding it open for you to slip inside, and you chose to let it be.

The rest of the night was spent with the two of you talking about anything that possibly came to mind once you got through the brief bout of awkward tension, and you quickly found that Luke could talk forever. He talked about his teammates and family in a way that made you smile because it was clear he truly loved and looked up to them. You told him about your family back home and why you moved and the way he was hanging on to every word made you flustered because no one had ever cared enough to listen to you that way.

By the time the night was winding down, you were close enough to him on the couch that your thighs would brush together and his arm was slung around the cushions behind you, but not touching you. There was a movie playing on the tv in front of you, but you would be lying if you said you were paying attention to it. All you could think about was how things with Luke flowed so naturally and how you hadn’t felt this comfortable around someone in so long that you forgot the feeling even existed.

The two of you began hanging out regularly after that, never doing anything more than something you would do with a friend, but you could feel your feelings for him grow with each passing day. It started off as small notions and things you could brush off, but then you found yourself thinking of him no matter what you were doing. You were always seeing something that reminded you of him or something that made you think ‘oh, Luke would love that. I can’t wait to show him’. However, you were far too scared to let yourself believe that he would ever feel the same, so you swallowed those urges and went on as if nothing had changed.

When Luke had asked if you would be interested in going to one of his games, you thought nothing of it. You had told him that you would gladly go, but you would only need one ticket since your roommate worked most evenings and you didn’t necessarily have anyone else to go with. He told you not to worry about that and he would figure something out for you before he asked for your email to send the ticket. What he meant by that, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t ask questions.

You asked your roommate to help you with your outfit before she left for work that day, wanting to make sure what you wore wasn’t too much but also wasn’t sloppy. Once she had settled on something that adhered to your standards, she managed to leave enough time for her to help with your hair as well. She could tell that you were nervous based on the way your hands were constantly fiddling with each other and by the way your already clumsy habits seemed to increase by the second.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were so nervous. It wasn’t like this was the first time you were hanging out with Luke, and it surely wasn’t going to be the last. For some reason, him inviting you to one of his games felt different, but then it made you queasy because you began to think about how many girls he had invited before. By the time you were on your way to the arena, you had managed to calm yourself down enough that your heart rate was almost back to normal and your self sabotaging thoughts had been long forgotten.

Luke had taken the liberty of reserving parking for you, which you tried to deny but he said he had already done it so there was no room to argue. The parking garage was full of people in various jerseys for both teams as they made their way into the arena with you following suit because you had virtually no idea where you were going. You were so focused on looking at section numbers that you kept bumping into people, quiet apologies tumbling from your lips as you rushed away from their pointed looks.

Eventually, you found the correct section and showed your ticket to the usher at the top of the stairs before following his direction as you walked down. You stopped at the row your seat was in, your eyes falling on a group of women as they talked and laughed with one another, and you suddenly felt a wave of insecurity wash over you. They clearly knew each other, and you were there by yourself, and on top of that, they were absolutely gorgeous.

You took a deep breath before you shuffled down the row and to your seat, trying to ignore the way their voices grew quiet whenever you sat down. You could feel their eyes on you as you kept yours on the rink, watching as they set up the net and as others filed down towards their seats before the game started. It wasn’t until you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder that you turned to look at the one sitting right next to you.

“Hi,” One of them greeted, a bright smile on her face, “I’m Nicole!

You let out a shaky breath as you took her hand, giving her your name before returning her smile. The way her eyes lit up and she briefly glanced at the girls around her with a subtle smirk threw you off, but she was quick to ease your confusion as she moved her focus back to you.

“So you’re the girl Luke won’t stop talking about,” She playfully teases, “He made sure Jesper told me you would be coming and to look out for you so you weren’t alone.”

You can’t stop your face from heating up by being identified as ‘the girl Luke won’t shut about’, and judging by the way the other girls looked at you, it seemed to be a universal experience. They went around and introduced themselves, and their children, to you before they began to ask you questions. They started off with the easy questions such as your career, if you were in school, if you were from the area, if you were a big fan of hockey, but they quickly transferred the topic over to your relationship with Luke.

“We’re just friends,” You meekly said, eyes darting away from them as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“But you like him,” Cat asks as she raises her eyebrows, though her tone hints that she knows the answer to that.

You briefly hesitated, not sure what your response should be, but you were very graciously saved by the music blaring through the speakers followed by the announcer's voice. You hastily turned towards the ice, thanking whatever higher being saved you from the embarrassment of admitting your feelings out loud.

As the game started, you caught yourself really only focusing on Luke rather than the puck itself. If he wasn’t on the ice, you were leaning towards the girls beside you to ask questions about the game you didn’t entirely understand. When he was on the ice, you flinched every time he got hit a little too hard, or when he would trip over seemingly nothing and fall on the ice. Although, you did know to join in on the collective booing whenever he was sent to the penalty box for a bogus call.

The game ended up going into overtime with Luke, his brother, and team captain on the ice as they stood opposite the Flyers players. Your hands were clasped together as you leaned forward, waiting with baited breath as the puck dropped on the ice. You watch as they skate towards their net, hastily trying to get the puck from the other team. You’re not sure who managed to get possession, but the next thing you know Luke is taking a shot that ends up in the net to win the game.

You jump out of your seat as you scream, your eyes not leaving Luke as he learns forward into a celebratory bow that you’re positive he did when he was at Michigan. A fact you knew after you asked him “if he was even good at hockey” and he proceeded to show you his highlight reels for the next hour. His team rushes towards him with giant smiles on their faces as they crowd around him, the arena filling with cheers so loud that it made your ears ring.

By the time things had calmed down, Nicole was the first to tell you that you were supposed to go with them down to the locker room. You walked through the arena with them, only briefly stopping to talk with security because you didn’t have the correct pass. The area outside the locker room was buzzing with life as various friends and family members of the team waited for the guys, their voices meshing with the loud cheers from inside.

The guys slowly began to trickle out of the locker room clad in their fancy and expensive suits, dopey grins on their faces. You stayed tucked between Cat and Nicole as they talked, but you were only halfway listening as you kept an eye out for Luke. Some of the guys you only vaguely remembered from pictures or videos Luke had shown you, but most you knew with confidence because of how often their names popped up in conversation.

When you finally saw a familiar head of curls walking through the doors, it was a bit embarrassing how quickly a smile grew on your face. He wasn’t even looking in your direction, instead animatedly talking to his brother who had seen you, a slight smirk on his face. The girls had stepped away from you, knowing looks on their faces when Luke finally looked in front of him to see you standing there waiting for him.

If they thought Luke was excited before, it was absolutely nothing compared to the look on his face when his eyes landed on you. He quickened his pace, leaving his conversation, and his brother, behind as he only focused on getting to you. You were painfully aware of the multitude of gazes on you, the attention beginning to slightly overwhelm you, but all of the worry disappeared the moment Luke wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him.

“Congratulations on your goal,” You mumble with your head pressed against his chest, your arms draped around the middle of his frame.

“Thank you for coming,” He quietly says, his hold on you subtly tightening as he lets out a deep breath.

You can barely hear the quiet whispers of those around you over the blood pounding in your ears, but you didn’t mind them anyways. Right now, all you wanted to focus on was the way his arms felt around you and the way his entire body seemed to relax under your touch. While physical touch with Luke wasn’t uncommon, it still gave you a small sense of hope that maybe everyone was right and maybe he did like you back after all.

“Jack, you might need somewhere to stay tonight,” You heard one of the other guys tease from behind him, making your face heat up as you stepped away from Luke. Though he doesn’t entirely break away from, keeping his arm slung across your shoulders as he turns to look at his teammates.

“Oh, I planned for it don’t worry,” He laughs as he shakes his head, “You picked a good first game to come to. Luke played his ass off.”

“I always do,” Luke quickly defended himself, his voice slightly raising and his posture straightening the smallest amount.

“Yeah, but you really did tonight,” Dawson pressed with a mischievous smile on his face.

“You guys are annoying,” Luke rolls his eyes, “I’m starving, so we are going to leave. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Your gaze snaps up to Luke as he briefly looks down at you with his usual half smile, but the sound of Jack calling out to him briefly moves his attention back to his brother. You let your eyes fall back to the ground in front of you, your mind running a mile a minute as you try to ignore the way he’s slightly grazing the skin above your collarbone with his fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat, the skin involuntarily raising in wake of his touch as you try to keep yourself outwardly collected.

“Hey,” Luke’s voice breaks through the thin barrier keeping you composed, “You ready? I figured I’ll drive so you can put the chipotle order in and we can pick it up on our way back to my apartment. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” You breathe out, giving him a small smile.

The two of you bid goodbye to the others, but not before they could pass on teasing comments or not so subtle winks as you passed by them. Luke had dropped his arm from your shoulders, a small absent feeling settling over you when he did. He asked you if you ended up having a good time and if the girls were nice to you, which you, of course, told him that you did and the girls were extremely welcoming and kind.

When Luke had climbed into the driver’s seat, he fished his wallet out of his pocket and handed you his credit card with the subtle threat that if he didn’t see a charge on his card for the food that he would buy you the expensive hoodie you had looked at a few days ago. You rolled your eyes as you took his card, not knowing that he had already bought the hoodie anyway and was waiting to give it to you.

By the time the two of you had picked up your food and were back at his apartment, your nerves from earlier had almost entirely disappeared and things felt normal again. Before the two of you started eating, he went into his room to change, and he returned with a random pair of sweatpants you had forgotten you bought last week and a shirt you’re positive was his. He waited for you to come back before he started eating like he always did, but you couldn’t help but feel like the air surrounding you felt slightly off.

You couldn’t tell if you were overthinking things or if something really was wrong because you still felt that way when the two of you moved to the couch. Luke still sat in his usual spot directly next to you, but he was barely focusing on the movie. His eyes kept darting around the room and he was nervously chewing on his bottom lip. You wanted to ask him if he was okay, but you kept your eyes on the TV until he spoke up.

“Can I tell you something,” Luke nearly shouted, slightly startling you out of your spot on the couch, “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just– I need to tell you something.”

Your eyes were wide and full of confusion, and slight panic, as you spoke, “Yeah, of course. You can tell me anything.”

You watched as he took a deep breath, slightly turning his body so he was facing you completely, and you couldn’t help but let an almost painful sense of worry envelope you. You were running over every possible scenario you could conjure in your mind, but they were all so negative that you had convinced yourself what he was going to say was too.

“This might screw everything up and if you never want to talk to me again, that’s fine, but I can’t ignore it anymore,” His voice was serious, yet thick with an emotion you refused to place, “After I scored tonight and all the guys were around me, all I could think about was you. Not even just you being there to see it, but celebrating with you. Seeing your smile. Hugging you. Kissing you.”

He said the last part so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him, but you did. Those two words rang in your ears as you looked at him, your mouth slightly dropped open as the ability to form a semi coherent thought in your mind suddenly fleeing. You wanted to respond, to tell him that it was all you could think about too, but your mouth and brain were far from cooperative.

Your silence was slowly suffocating Luke, and he quickly wishes he never said anything at all. To him, he knew it was a long shot that you felt the same way he did. Early in your friendship, you had let it slip that you weren't looking for a relationship and you wanted to focus on yourself. He knew that, but he couldn’t keep his feelings to himself anymore.

“I’m sorry,” He backtracks, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have said anyth–”

You cut him off by surging forward and slamming your lips on his own, not trusting yourself to accurately say everything you felt. Luke’s reaction was almost instantaneous, his hands grabbing at your hips and pulling you onto his lip as he kisses you back. The metaphorical wall that had been keeping the two of you as friends crumbled beneath you as you pour everything you felt for him into one kiss.

His hands had moved to the small of your back, pulling you so close that there wasn’t even a millimeter of space separating you from him. Your hands were looped around his neck as your mouth moved against his own, and you couldn’t stop yourself from carefully grasping at his curls. Luke groaned against you, and he knew he had to stop before he took things too far on his living room couch.

He pulls away from you, his heavy breathing falling in sync with your own as he drops his head to your shoulder. You can feel his chest rise and fall against you as you attempt to gather your thoughts and tell yourself that this was real. That it actually happened and it wasn’t something you had dreamed up again, but you were suddenly shaken from your thoughts when Luke harshly snapped his head up to look at you.

“Wait, does this mean you like me back,” He asks, feigning a sense of seriousness, but you can see the smile threatening to shine through.

“You’re an idiot,” You playfully roll your eyes at him.

“Maybe, but I’m your idiot, ” He counters before his eyes slightly widen as he hesitantly continues, “Right?”

“Yeah,” You chuckle, a small smile decorating your face, “You are.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night wrapped up in the other, the movie halfway forgotten as you found yourself with your lips on his more often than not. You were selfishly thankful that Jack had been telling the truth when he said he found somewhere else to stay. The uninterrupted time you spent in Luke’s arms allowed you to truly soak it in. To relish in the fact that you had finally found someone who made you believe that love did exist, and you owed it all to one spilled coffee.

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

[hanjsquokka]

Swim - [ Lee Know ]

🎸 SYNOPSIS : After a nasty break-up with your loser ex, you head to your favorite club to let loose, when the bartender catches your eye. He's managed to make you laugh more than you had all week and slowly you find yourself losing focus on his words and more on his veiny hands.

GENRE : smut, strangers to potential lovers

PAIRING : lee know × fem!reader

CONTENT WARNING : smut (warnings under the cut!), cocky minho, mentions of cheating (not between minho and reader), drinking

WORD COUNT : 1.7K

AUTHOR'S NOTE : (Part of my Stray Kids × Chase Atlantic series special for their sixth anniversary). Lee Minho. Where do I even start with this man. I think I started to notice more of him during the Oddinary Era videos (because of his purple hair 🧎‍♀️). I feel like out of all of them, I'm very much similar to him. I like him a lot because of that. Also his cats :( I think seeing him transformed me into a 75% cat person now lmao.

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content

SMUT WARNING : hand kink, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), piv, semi-public sex, use of nicknames (doll, bunny), choking (fem receiving), clothed sex (?), reader drinks a little but no drunk sex, everyone is sober and consenting!

“Three shots of vodka please.” You said as you slid onto the bar stool, eyes on the bartender's back as he nodded and prepared your drink, handing you three shot glasses and leaned against the counter. You adjusted the hem of your short dress once you noticed a guy eyeing you with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Rough day?” The bartender asked, watching you down a glass.

“How do you know?” You asked with a chuckle.

“Everyone's out here drinking gin tonics and beers. Call it a hunch, I guess.” He shrugged, making you chuckle and thread your fingers together, watching the man with newfound interest. Brown hair hung over his eyes, the middle part showing a bit of his forehead. His lips were rosy (and very kissable at first impression). His biceps strained against the black button up he was wearing, the sleeves rolled up giving you a perfect view of his veiny arms and hands… Oh god — his hands. “So what's gotten the fine lady in a bad mood?” He asked, his big eyes focused on yours.

You drummed your nails against your glass. “I'll let you guess.”

“Let's see…” He cocked his head to the side, “boss yelled at you? Fired? Friends?” You shook your head. Finally, his eyes light up, “Ah… vodka, hanging out at the bar instead of the floor, your phone's practically a vibrator at this point — broke up with your man?”

“He's an asshole.” You huffed and took another shot, the burning liquid flowing down your throat made you cringe but you welcomed the floating feeling that followed afterwards. You weren't a lightweight, a few vodka shots weren't going to make you dead drunk, but you felt better. “He went out to a party, got wasted and fucked someone — two someone's as per his friend. And then had the fucking audacity to beg for another chance.”

He laughed. “Sounds about right.” A song started to play in the background — most likely by the performing group (3RACHA or something?) of the night since there were cheers all around. He turned around and then back again, placing a glass of ice cold beer in front of you. “On the house. That guy is an asshole. You deserve much better.”

“You don't even know me.”

“Any girl like you deserves better than a cheating bastard.”

You laughed, the smile brightening on your face as you kept talking to the man, who introduced himself as Minho. Minho. You liked that name. You liked your name rolling off his tongue even more when he repeated it after you, saying it again after tending to a few other customers. You stole glances at his hands when you thought he wasn't looking, the prominent veins underneath his smooth skin made your face flush as dirty thoughts clouded your mind.

“Do you stare at everyone's hands, or is it just mine?” The smug smile on his face paired with the glint in his eyes — he knew what you'd been doing. You turned red, trying to stammer some sort of response but it died out once you noticed that he didn't look like… he was bothered by it. “I feel honored.” He leaned forward, fingers pulling out some invisible leaf from your hair as he whispered, “wanna tell me what you were thinking about, doll?”

You gave a very intelligent response. “Uh…”

He smirked, looking away from you to tell one of the other bartenders that he was going to get more glasses from the back before telling you in a low voice, “Wait here for a few minutes and then go through the employees only door in the back.” You couldn't muster an answer before he winked and left.

Your heart was thudding in your chest. Were you actually going to do it? Follow a bartender you met a few hours ago? Something inside you was telling you to go for it. Sure, there was a possibility of you walking straight into a trap, but there were so many times he could've done something to you the whole night and he did nothing but lift your spirits. He'd managed to make you laugh more than you had all week.

You downed your last shot before getting up and going to where he instructed you to. No one batted an eye as you slipped through the clearly labeled employees only door and carefully walked into the dimly lit place that looked to be a janitor's closet when a finger tapped on your shoulder and you were met with Minho's big eyes again.

“Now that we're alone…” The muffled sound of music still played from behind the door, “what were you thinking when you were staring at my hands, hm?” You swallowed, Minho's finger traced your jawline before resting underneath your chin, making you look straight at him.

“W-Well…”

“Words, bunny.”

The nickname turned your ears red. “Y-You might be right…”

“Might?”

“Fine.” There was no going back anymore. “I was thinking… certain things about your hands.”

“Like what?”

“How they'd…” You bit your lip. “How they'd feel inside me… or… around m-my neck.”

“Good bunny.” He smirked. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.”

He wasted no time joining his lips with yours, practically devouring you as he pushed against the wall, tongue sliding into your mouth and meeting yours. His hands rested on your waist, squeezing the flesh as he deepened the kiss. Sloppy and messy, things only got more heated as the minutes flew by. He detached from you and instead peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Your palm was flat against his chest, feeling his muscles tensing beneath your skin. He nipped at a spot on your neck that made heat pool between your thighs, an unintelligible sound leaving your mouth.

“Oh, you liked that?” He bit down again in the same spot, hard enough to leave a mark before smoothing over it with his tongue.

“Please…” You whimpered.

“Please what?”

“N-Need you. Your fingers.”

“Where do you need them bunny?” He was teasing you. You could see that. But you had just about enough of it. You took his hand and guided it between your parted legs, right onto your covered crotch. “You're soaking. Just thinking about my hands did this to you?” You nodded. He rubbed your clothed pussy, making your head fall onto his shoulder, the feeling nearly making your knees buckle and he barely even did anything. He pulled his hand away and tapped his finger against your lips, “Suck.”

You wasted no time in doing exactly what he said, wrapping your pink lips around his two fingers and coating them with your saliva. He chuckled, taking them out and slipping off your panties from underneath the short dress you were wearing, rubbing over your folds and your clit. You moaned at the simple touch which made him chuckle. He prodded at your hole before a digit entered inside you and you could've cum from just the feelings. “Oh god…”

He inched his finger inside and slowly began moving it in and out, adding another finger when he heard the sweet, sinful sounds escaping your lips, scissoring you open. “Look at you. Already fucked out from just my fingers. How are you even going to be able to handle my cock, hm?”

“I-I can do it. Want your cock. W-Want you to fill me up, Minho, p-please —” You were cut off by your own whimper as he pressed his thumb against your bundle of nerves. You were clenching around his fingers, almost able to taste your orgasm when he stopped and removed his fingers. You whined at the loss, your climax crumbling away.

“The only way you're cumming —” He undid his belt and pulled his pants down along with boxers so his dick could spring out. “On my cock.” And it was big. Fuck. You drooled at the sight of his thick cock, the leaky mushroom tip and the vein that ran along his length and then his heavy balls — holy shit. “Get on that table for me.” He nudged his head towards the small desk table. You scrambled to get there, laying down on the cold wood, your wet pussy on full display for him. “Such an obedient bunny.” He ran the tip of his dick along your folds, only entering you slowly after you whined for him to just put it in.

And he was big. He just kept going and going until you felt the head brush against your cervix. You felt impossibly full, head swimming in ecstasy. Through your half-lidded eyes, you could see he was struggling to keep his composure, eyebrows taut as he held your hips down. Once you gave him the go ahead, he wasted no time in setting a quick pace. Your moans echoed off the walls. The music from outside was like a background track for the sinful deed you were doing.

The water's getting colder, let me in your ocean, swim.

“Pussy so fucking tight — even after I stretched you out with my fingers —” Minho grunted, angling his hips so that he was hitting that spot inside you that made you see white with every thrust. You were babbling incoherently, much to his amusement. “Did I fuck my bunny dumb already?” One of his free hands reached up and wrapped around your throat. You opened your eyes again, the sight of his veiny arms making you clench impossibly tighter. He let out a groan, squeezing your neck to restrict your breathing a little.

You could feel your orgasm approaching again, your moans turned into high pitched whimpers, his name leaving your mouth like a mantra as you convulsed, cumming around his cock, milking him dry. He let put a string of curses as his thrusts turned sloppy and uncoordinated before he came inside you, fucking his seed into you until he was spent and slowed down.

The two of you were silent, panting to catch your breath.

“Block your loser ex. I'm the one who's going to make you feel like this. With my mouth. With my fingers. And with my dick. Over and over again.”

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

#Spotify #k-labels #stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know #lee know smut #lee know x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know hard thoughts #lee know hard hours

[izzyreadingblog]

I didn't knew love (till I found you) (1)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

tags: Angst / Internalized Homophobia/ Strangers to Friends to Lovers

“What do you mean, you want me to buy the Soulmater? Do you know how much it costs?" Robert’s voice was tinged with disbelief.

Yes, of course you knew. The device cost was astronomical, but that paled in comparison to the turmoil churning inside yourself. You needed to be completely sure of your decision to marry your long time boyfriend Mark. It wasn’t just cold feet; it was a gnawing uncertainty that clawed at your heart and hasn't stopped worrying you for some time now.

“You can take the money from my share of the inheritance. I don't care about that Robert, but please help me with this, I’ve never asked you for anything before,” you implored, your eyes brimming with a mix of desperation and hope. You approached your brother and grasped his hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I need to know. I need to be sure about this, please Rob help me.”

Robert’s gaze softened at your words, but his words remained firm. “If you really need to know then that means Mark isn’t your soulmate. If he were, you wouldn’t be so consumed with doubt and worries.”

“I don’t know, it’s just that something has been feeling off for a time now…” you shook your head, a gesture of frustration and confusion, unable to articulate the storm of emotions inside you.

“Why don’t you go buy it yourself then? You’re old enough to make your own decisions; you don’t need to drag me into this, I don’t want to get involved.” He pulled away from your grasp and stood up, ready to leave the room and the weight of your request behind.

“I don’t want Mark to find out and you are the only person I trust to do this. Robert, please, do this for me. I promise never to ask you for anything else.” you mustered your most convincing expression, the one you knew your brother couldn’t resist. And just like that, you saw the familiar resignation in his eyes. Despite his protests, he would be always there for you no matter what.

“Okay I would do it, but this is the last crazy thing I do for you.” The both of you knew it was a lie, but it didn’t matter. You lunged forward, enveloping him in a hug, your smile radiating pure joy. “I’ll stop by after work and bring it to you tonight.”

“Thank you, thank you! I love you so much; you are the best brother in the world,” you exclaimed, your gratitude genuine and boundless.

Once Robert had left, a wave of anxiety washed over you. What if Mark wasn’t your soulmate? What if your true match was already married to someone else? Or what if he was single? Would you have the courage to introduce yourself as his soulmate, hoping for a fairy-tale ending?. Taking a deep breath, you tried to lower down the rising panic. There were too many questions and too many uncertainties, so you decided to scour the internet for stories of others who had used the Soulmater, seeking guidance for the myriad of potential outcomes that would come once you know the name of your soulmate.

The Soulmater, according to its creators, was an infallible computer algorithm that boasted a 100% success rate every time. The device itself was really simple: a screen where one entered their name and date of birth, and within moments, the name and birthdate of their soulmate appeared. It has a hefty price tag of $100,000 so it’s meant only for a few who had the means to try it, but those who did were unanimous in their praise. Upon meeting their soulmate, they were instantly certain the device had not failed. You found nothing but happy endings in the reviews, save for one heart-wrenching account of a man whose soulmate had passed away before they could meet. A chill ran down your spine, and instantly you regretted delving into these stories. Now, your doubts hadn’t been calmed, they had multiplied.

Your phone buzzed with a message from Mark: ‘Where are you? We’ve been waiting for you for half an hour!!!’

You had completely forgotten about the meeting you had planned with your boyfriend and your future mother-in-law to set the wedding date. ‘I had to take care of something important at home. I’ll be there in 10 minutes,’ you replied, your heart not in it.

When you arrived at the coffee shop, the sight of Mark sitting alone stirred a sense of nervousness. A tight knot formed in your stomach, the kind that no amount of rational thought could untangle.

“Hey baby, where's your mother?” you asked, planting a kiss on his cheek, trying to mask your concern with a casual greeting. The kiss was a mere formality, a gesture devoid of the affection it once carried.

“She left a while ago! you know my mom is too important a person for you to be wasting her time,” Mark replied, his tone laced with irritation. His words stung you, a verbal slap that echoed the growing distance that exists between the both of you.

But you didn't let those words stop you and unfazed, you countered, “Well, we can decide on the wedding date ourselves.” you signaled the waiter to bring her the same drink Mark had, seeking some semblance of normalcy. Cause normalcy was a facade, a thin veneer over the chaos of your inner thoughts and worries.

“There is no need for that, we've already decided,” Mark declared, his voice cutting through the hum of the coffee shop.

Confusion clouded your face. “What do you mean is already decided?” you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and apprehension.

“The date will be June 25, there’s nothing else to decide about that” he stated matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing the weather, not your future.

“But that's in less than a month!” Panic rose in your voice, a crescendo of fear and disbelief. It was too soon; you wouldn't have time to prepare everything. The words 'too soon' echoed in your mind, a cruel reminder of the rushed decisions that had led you here with little chance to change anything.

“Please, the only thing we need to do is show up on the wedding day. Leave the rest to my mother, she knows what she does and she is excellent at making events” he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. His indifference was a chasm that widened with every word he spoke.

You clenched your fists under the table, struggling to contain your frustration. “It's my wedding too, and I want a say in how it's going to be. I think I have the right to decide what I want for my wedding too.” Your voice was firm.

“Don't get upset. I'll ask my mom to involve you as much as possible. You can choose the venue, the catering, everything you want, my love. But the wedding will be on June 25. That's final.” His words were a gavel, pounding the final nail into the coffin of your hopes.

The coffee shop was a quaint little place, nestled in the heart of the city, its walls adorned with vintage posters and shelves lined with an assortment of colorful mugs. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans mingled with the scent of baked goods, creating a cozy atmosphere that usually brought comfort to her. Today, however, the familiar setting did nothing to ease the turmoil within. As you sat across from Mark, your mind replayed the events leading up to this moment. You remembered the countless times you had walked through these doors, hand in hand with Mark, laughing and planning your future together. But now, as you gazed out of the window, watching the world go by, you felt a disconnection from those memories. They seemed like scenes from someone else’s life, not yours. Mark was talking, but his words were a distant hum in your ears, you watched his lips move, observed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and yet, you felt an inexplicable void. 

You thought about the Soulmater, that small, unassuming device that promised to unveil the mysteries of the heart. It was absurd, really, to place so much faith in a piece of technology. And yet, the possibility of discovering a connection so profound, so intrinsic, that it could be deemed a ‘soulmate,’ was too tantalizing to ignore. Your thoughts were interrupted by the waiter, who arrived with your drink, a caramel macchiato, the foam artfully swirled on top. You thanked him with a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. As you took a sip, the sweetness of the caramel was a stark contrast to the bitterness that lingered on your tongue from the conversation. Mark’s impatience was palpable. He checked his watch, tapped his foot, and sighed heavily, all signs that he was ready to move on from the coffee shop and from the topic at hand. You knew you should be present, should engage in the discussion about your impending nuptials, but your heart was elsewhere, lost in a sea of what-ifs and maybes. 

The coffee shop began to fill up, the lunchtime crowd bringing with it a buzz of activity. Couples sat at nearby tables, some in deep conversation, others comfortable in their silence. You envied them, envied their certainty and the ease with which they seemed to fit into each other’s lives. As the afternoon wore on, the sunlight shifted, casting long shadows across the floor. The change in light marked the passage of time, a reminder that life was moving forward, with or without your consent. You glanced at Mark again, trying to picture your future together, but the image was hazy, obscured by doubt. 

When the time came to leave, you followed Mark out of the coffee shop, the bell above the door jingling in their wake. The city streets were bustling, people rushing about their day, oblivious to the internal struggle that weighed heavily on your shoulders. Going back home was a blur, your mind preoccupied with the Soulmater and how a name can change her life upside down. As you approached your apartment, the sight of Robert’s car was a beacon of hope. You quickened your pace, eager to close the distance between you and the answers that lay within the small, silver package he had procured for you. 

“Did you get it?” you asked Robert, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Yes, take it easy,” he reassured you, holding up the bag. “Let's go to your room.” His calmness was an anchor in the storm of your emotions.

Inside, Robert handed you the silver package. The Soulmater was smaller than you expected, fitting snugly in your palm. It was unassuming, yet it held the power to alter the course of your life. You hesitated before pressing the power button, your finger hovering over the decision that would unveil your heart's true desire.

The familiarity of your own space was a stark contrast to the chaos of your emotions. The walls held memories of laughter and tears, of dreams and plans made. It was here, in the sanctity of your room, that you would take the leap into the unknown. 

“What's wrong? Do you want me to leave you alone?” Robert asked, sensing your hesitation.

“No, it's just... I'm scared,” you admitted, meeting his understanding gaze. The fear was a tangible thing, a shadow that loomed over you.

“Whatever the result, it'll be okay. Remember, you can return it unused,” he reminded her. His words were a lifeline, a reminder that no matter the outcome, you had the power to choose your path. Robert’s presence was a steadying force, together, you both sat on the edge of your bed. With each passing second, the anticipation built, a crescendo of hope and fear that threatened to overwhelm you. 

And then, after putting her data on the device you pressed the button, and the world as you knew it shifted.

At that moment, you didn't need a Soulmater to tell you that Mark was not the one for you. The realization hit you like a wave, cold and unyielding. You had become complacent, accepting whatever life threw at you without protest. Your father's passing had been a wake-up call, prompting you to reassess your life and the choices you were making. It was this introspection that led you to go and try the Soulmater, and now, you are certainly using it was the right decision.

The screen scrolled, and after an agonizing wait that seemed like years but only was a couple minutes long, a name and date appeared: Alexia Putellas - 02/04/1994.

“Alexia Putellas? My soulmate is a woman?” you whispered, a mix of shock and curiosity in your voice. The revelation was a puzzle piece that didn't fit the picture you had of your life, yet it was undeniably yours.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso

[batsyvie]

childhood friends to lovers to strangers to friends to lovers again au ——->first meeting! Crowley’s got a bruised shin, a bruised ego, and a severe lack of morning tea; of course Aziraphale, cherub of a boy that he is, places it upon himself to help when he sees a poor boy alone in the garden.

I have this entire au planned out in my head, and I *do* want to write it once I finish my current GOmens fic. Will I get to it? Not answering that. Might draw more of it though. dunno what i’ll call the au yet. probably workshop it. ideas are welcome i am 🔥uninspired🔥

Transcript under the cut :3

WORK 1:

Aziraphale: “Are you alright? Are you hungry?”

WORK TWO:

Aziraphale: “You must be freezing!”

Crowley: “NGK, I’m fine!”

Aziraphale: “You simply must take my scarf!!”

WORK THREE:

PANEL 1:

Mother: “Where is the scarf I gave you this morning, Aziraphale?”

PANEL 3:

Aziraphale: “Umm…Oh, must have, ugh, put it down here somewhere. I’m sorry, Mother :(“

Mother: “Hmm, you’ll forget your own head next…

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #childhood friends to lovers to strangers to friends to lovers again peak #batsy buffoonery #aziraphale #crowley #krita

[mingtinysworld]

Lock your windows

Pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre: smut, "dark" romance

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: After a discussion with your experimental boyfriend, you two are able to play out one of your long awaited fantasies

Warnings: MDNI, "stalker" wooyoung, role playing?? oral (m/f receiving), fingering, mention of a safe word, it seems noncon but just read til the end please trust me😭

Network: @newworldnet

A/n: idk why but the idea of wooyoung being a stalker is so hot to me. I also know he would be such an experimental partner to have, it's driving me insane. I need him so very badly

You and your friends screech in laughter as someone says something hilarious. You and your friend group have been out for a couple hours now, drinking, eating, shopping, just having the best night out ever. The air is warm and stale, the humidity making your hair puff up in frizziness.

As you stumble along the path in your black high heels and sparkly silver dress you stand out, like a shiny pearl in the ocean. The glitter makes shadows on the dimly lit walls, making the light bounce off. You start laughing at something again when you suddenly stop.

A shiver slithers up your spine and makes the hairs of your nape stand up in alarm. Your friends realize you’re not following them anymore and they stare in confusion. They ask if you’re ok but you’re too busy looking around, trying to find the source of the eerie feeling.

You can’t seem to find anything in the shadows and tentatively take steps forward. Your friends look at each other with raised eyebrows but choose to shrug it off. You keep walking but you don’t say anything until you reach your doorstep. They say goodnight and leave you to your apartment.

You walk in and throw yourself on the cushiony couch, resting your eyes from exhaustion. You tap your foot quietly and hum a random tune that’s been stuck in your head all day when you hear a distant clatter from the direction of your bedroom and your eyes shoot open and foot stops tapping. You stand up curiously and walk towards your room.

As you walk in you can feel a cold breeze and you blink in confusion. You see that your window is wide open, blinds pulled apart. You don’t remember leaving your window open but you must’ve been in a rush and didn’t even realize. You shake your head at your inattentiveness and close it shut. You return to your spot on the couch and shut your eyes once more.

There’s clattering coming from the same direction again and you sit up in alarm this time. You warily go to your room, trying to inspect what the noise is. You see the window is open again, making the curtain billow in the wind.

“What the fuck.” You exclaim. You’re convinced you’re going crazy. You’re sure you closed it, but maybe the day is really getting to your head. You take a step and are thrown down to the ground in an instant. You gasp from the impact, managing to catch yourself on your elbows, but your knees are on fire from the carpet burn.

You try to turn on your back and find that your movements are restricted from a weight on your lower back. It feels like a boot is pressing you down, pushing the air out of your lungs. You breathe in tightly and your whole body tenses. You whimper in pain and the pressure lifts a little and you sigh in relief.

“Hi my love, we finally meet.” The stranger speaks with a low tone.

“W-who are you?” You wheeze out.

“I’m your lover of course, who else would I be?” He says matter of factly. You furrow your eyebrow in confusion.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You try to talk without your voice betraying your fear. He chuckles at that and completely removes his boot.

“Oh you’ll understand what I mean soon.”

He reaches down to turn you over. As you lay on your back in the dark room, you observe his face as best you can, the only light provided being the single lamppost outside. He has long jet black hair and dark glimmering eyes. His nose has a perfect point and his mouth is turned up at the corners in a sneer.

He also studies you in turn. Your beauty up close does not compare to the months of watching you from afar. The hundreds of photographs hanging in his room pale in comparison. He’s filled with so much pure excitement at seeing you face to face finally.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. For the day I get to caress your face, for the day I get to hear your sinful noises brought out by me. I’ve been very, very patient and this is my reward.” He looks into your eyes deeply, as if he’s mentally willing you to believe his words.

You feel a shiver go up your spine as you realize that the man is completely serious. He truly believes his delusions and it isn’t up for a discussion. He looks down at his silver watch, as if he’s on a mission. With a growing dread and arousal you realize that he is on a mission.

You are the mission.

You continue to stare at him with wide, fearful eyes as he straddles your still form. He leans into your neck and just stays there, nose taking in your scent deeply. He inhales and exhales and groans quietly. With his mouth muffled against your collarbone, he speaks.

“I can just smell the arousal coming off of you. You really love this huh.” You let out a small whimper at that and he raises his head.

“Don’t worry angel, Wooyoung is here to take care of you. I got you.” He speaks with a promising tone.

He leans in once more and he can feel your rapid heartbeat, which only aids in exciting him further. He kisses you with ease, almost intimately, caressing your bare arms and leaving goosebumps in his wake. You try to use your knee to push him off and he growls into your open mouth. The sweet kiss turns into an animalistic one. He gropes your breasts and kisses you breathless. As he rocks back and forth across your abdomen you can feel his growing bulge.

You feel your cunt throb emptily, needing something you’re too ashamed to admit. You submit to his feverish kisses and try to relax your body. He notices the change and grins in response.

“There you are, my love. Let’s get to the bed, shall we? I’d rather take you on a softer material.” He mockingly pouts and furrows his eyebrows. He lifts you up with ease and gently sets you on the bed. His hands settle underneath your shirt, slightly tickling your stomach. You squirm in hopes that he touches you sometime soon, or else you’ll explode.

He trails down your body, reaching your flimsy shorts and teasingly blows air on you. You buck your hips instinctively and he holds you down, clucking his tongue in disapproval.

“Nuh uh baby, I thought you were gonna be good for me?” He cocks his head sideways, questioning you.

“Yes, yes, I will, I promise.” You babble, feeling fucked out already.

He gives you a soft smile and rubs your thighs soothingly before landing a harsh smack. Your body jolts in reaction but you manage to hold in your yelp. Without wasting another second he pulls your shorts aside and dives in.

You muffle your moan into the palm of your hand, feeling like you need to scream. The stimulation is making you feel relief but so much torture at the same time. Wooyoung’s expert tongue is lapping up your slick, almost like a hungry animal and when he looks up at you, his gaze is as sharp as a predator.

His finger finds your clit with ease and twists and pulls as you mewl pathetically. Not once does he come up for air, he practically buries his head in your pussy, prodding his tongue into every crevice.

“You taste so sweet mmhh.” Wooyoung moans into your pussy, sending vibrations up your body. He digs his fingers into your hips, holding you even closer. You have to bite on your hand now to keep yourself quiet. He slightly bites down on your clit and you let out a shriek. Your body jolts up and you cum with a shuddering breath.

He finally removes himself from you and stares down at the state of your cunt. It’s a sopping wet mess, covered in spit and slick. His face is also covered in your juices, and he greedily licks up what he can. You close your eyes in an attempt to recover, but it’s interrupted by his fingers.

He rams two fingers deep into you until he’s knuckle deep. He finds your g-spot immediately and you see stars, making you hold on to his wrist in a desperate attempt, but he simply pins your hand to your side. You grind your hips deeper into his fingers, needing to feel more. He reads your mind and adds in a third finger.

You moan at the stretch and clamp around him. He looks at your face intently, watching your screwed up face of pleasure. He wastes no time adding a final fourth finger. You gasp at the sensation and convulse from the intensity. Your whole body shakes as you reach the peak of your climax. You cry out and gush around Wooyoung’s slender fingers and he fucks you through your orgasm.

You groan lightly, feeling the energy escape your body. Wooyoung softly caresses your stomach to bring you down and you close your eyes and breathe out. He crawls to you slowly, and you open one eye from feeling the dip of the mattress.

Wooyoung takes your hand and puts it over his hardened bulge. He grinds into your hand slowly, letting out groans of satisfaction. Due to your exhaustion he chooses to go easy on you. He pulls down his pants and gets closer to your awaiting mouth. He slides in slowly, only going halfway. You let your mouth go slack and have him use you gently. He moves in and out, poking the inside of your cheek occasionally. You land a soft hand on him once more and attempt to help out. He throws his head back and enjoys the sensation of your warm mouth.

With a few more soft thrusts he pulls out of your mouth and cums all over your breasts. Once he comes down from his high he grabs towels to clean you up. He gently dabs at your used cunt and slick thighs, including your now cum stained breasts. You feel sleep calling your name and let out a content sigh. Wooyoung notices and lets out a giggle whilst cuddling up to your side.

"Thank you for trusting me baby." He expresses his gratitude by giving small pecks to your face.

"I told you I wouldn't have to use my safe word. You were perfect." You mumble, only half awake.

"I know love, but it's always good to be prepared. It would kill me if I ever hurt you." He speaks reverently, like you're a goddess to worship.

You give him a grunt of acknowledgement to let him know you're still listening even though your tired body is screaming for sleep. Wooyoung looks at your serene face, remembering how wild and frenzied you had looked only moments prior. Before you're completely out he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"I guess this is what happens when you don't lock your windows baby."

#ateez #mingtinysworld #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung

[strangemagicc]

COMING OCTOBER

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader, Eddie is twenty-one at the time of his death and Reader is eighteen. In ‘91, Reader is twenty-three.

trope: best friends to lovers, forced proximity kinda

summary: In the Spring of ‘86 your best friend Eddie Munson was murdered. As years passed you struggled to deal with his absence, the Eddie-sized hole that was left behind in the wake of his death. In the Fall of ‘91, after a record-setting storm ravages the small town, he appears on the steps of your house a little less than dead in the midst of the destruction and you have to teach him how to be human again.

author’s note: before any thoughts go there - there is NO necrophilia or zombie fucking occurring in this fic. He’s ALIVE! ⚡️⚡️ (insert mad scientist cackle here)

thought I’d clear that up from the beginning 🖤

warnings: main character death, bullying, mourning / grief, angst, eventual smut

request to be added to tag list 🖤

#el’s wips #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x fem!reader angst #eddie munson angst #stranger things au #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fics #eddie munson friends to lovers

[gyumibear]

🧪 accidentally in love! — smau

pairing — yang jungwon x reader

also featuring... all of enha, wonbin & anton of riize, jongseob of p1harmony, hanni & minji of new jeans, and kep1er's bahiyyih

genre — university au, meet weird au, pining, strangers -> friends -> lovers

synopsis — after a failed chemistry prank, one after class "detention" starts a romance between beloved student body president yang jungwon and l/n y/n, campus celebrity & serial prankster. but with graduation a few months away, will their love stay strong or leave them as jaded strangers?

warnings — swearing, suggestive jokes, kys/kms jokes, jungwon falls HARD (it's almost pathetic), embarrassingly dense reader, overwhelming fluff in time, typical angst, slowish burn, + individual chapter warnings!

profiles — yn's camera crew | jungwon's "friends” — playlist

01. senior year! 02. abducted by aliens no clickbait

03. college = scam 04. and look at that… it’s karma!

05. get out of jail free card 06. accidentally???

07. we make a good team 08. grow a pair by kesha

09. maybe this could be it 10. ricky…

[more chapters tba!]

taglist is open! — send an ask or reply to be added!

note — please consider interacting as you read!! spam likes are totally fine with me, but reblogging/replying with your thoughts truly means a lot to me!

banner creds — @writingmochi ! tysm again! ♡

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[pinkyqil]

I'm sorry

Lucy bronze x ona batlle x r

Summary: childhood bestfriend to lovers to strangers

Warning: just toxic bestfriend, jealousy issues to many spelling mistakes for me too care for at this point in life

You and Lucy had always been together 24/7 has you both grew-up together like the childhood friends you're. Never letting go of one another. Always following each other, most people would think that you both were together.

"You've always felt attracted to lucy. Because of the way she treats you, always taking care of you getting the stuff she knows you'll need and most of all dealing with your massive sassy princess attitude.

Back in 2020 where she played for Manchester city around the covid out-break. You both decided to moving in together, always needing each other's company. After a while of living with lucy she finally confessed her feelings which you felt the same way.

Making you both finally official has most of your friends have been anticipating the moment.

You and lucy relationship had been going amazing. a little fights here and there but nothing to serious that would go way too far. Until she announced that she'll be leaving to play for Barcelona meaning you'll both have to do long distance until she comes for break or international duties.

Which you were okay with until now you've both been arguing way more recently all you ever wanted was for her to make more time on her busy schedule but she couldn't has they've been having game after game. Making you upset which would start random yelling match from the phone's.

"Another yelling match". said ona

lucy and ona had gotten really close for the past months. that she been playing for barca has she was found by her in the locker room crying from one of your arguments. Since then they've both gotten really close

"Yeah it just getting way worse and I don't think I know what to do".lucy said

"lucia I think we both know what you need to do" replied ona.

"but ona you know I can't I love her too much to do that she's been through everything with me all I want is to is too fix the holes in our relationship but nothing seems to work".

"I know but you can't keep pushing it like that do what best for both of you". ona told her while holding her hands.

That night you got a call from lucy which you weren't expecting.

cause it would have been really late for lucy which meant she was definitely up thinking about something but what she told you honestly couldn't comprehend.

She was breaking up with you over the phone from 1,137.96 kilometers away from each other that night you cried your heart out from the heavy feelings to now feeling empty.

You lost the love of your life the person that made you smile gave you whatever you needed that assisted you without asking you lost her.

And now feeling broken pices that no one could ever pick up again you hated this banging pain.

It been months since you're break up with lucy some people could've seen it from a distance but other's likewise.

it came shocking to both families who were sure that you both would have worked it out and get married in the future.

But they were wrong cause now she was with ona.

Ona is a pure soul nothing compare to you. you've tried hating her but couldn't the girl was way to nice for her own sake everyone around her loved her which you couldn't get that much what was so special about her but not you.

The last time you saw Lucy was around her vist back to england but instead of as lover you both we're now mere strangers who were once deeply inlove.

A/n : this has honestly sleeping in my drafts for the longest of time and I just got it done there's probably a lot of mistakes cause it wasn't proof read yet but other than that hope y'all enjoy this and don't forget that my request are open

#lucy bronze #ona batlle #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso edit #woso #woso community #woso soccer #barca femini x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #fcb femini #fc barcelona #lucy bronze x ona batlle #lucy bronze x reader #pinkyqil #pinky shenanigans #pinkqilfic #fcb femeni x reader #fcb femeni #fc barca femeni #espwnt imagine #engwnt #espwnt #woso one shot #woso fic #woso angst #woso drama #ona batlle imagine

[inherdaze]

dark red — megumi fushiguro

megumi x f!reader

18+ content, apocalypse au, slow burn, strangers to lovers

12k

summary: megumi finds himself growing closer to you as you both fight to survive in an infected world.

October 30th. 

You eye your floppy, double-paged calendar lovingly as you uncap a marker, drawing a big ‘X’ across the date. 

Your eyes scan over the top page of it. It has some corny close-up stock photo of a bird with the month October printed in big, cursive lettering. It’s the type of calendar that your grandmother would keep in her office, very neutral with nature images. And for some reason, it’s like your comfort object. It made you happy, reminded you of simpler things and simpler times. It reminded you of life before- before the infectious bite.

The bite is deadly. 

Or, beyond deadly, since it doesn’t quite kill you. 

Your brain only rots away and hunger pools at the pit of your stomach, the only thing to sedate it being human flesh. Ah, yes, the infamous zombie bite. 

You and countless others had seen it plenty of times- in movies, in shows, in video games. Even funny little quizzes would pop up on your timeline, Who Would You Be In A Zombie Apocalypse?

Never would you have dreamed of it all coming true. 

When you think about it, it happened so simply, so quickly, that the sequence of events could be plastered onto an elementary foldable. You think that’s what’s probably going to happen, in the future, when humanity re-establishes itself. When.

Not an if, but a when. 

You were one of the few that strongly believed that humans could overcome such devastation and rebuild. Perhaps you could help in creating a better world. 

It happened as such: A disease was created. Created. This fact alone angered the population enough to start riots, protests, petitions. It was the beginning of the end. A disease that was supposedly heavily concealed and secured was created by the government, until all the scientists working on restricting the disease escaped the laboratory, no longer themselves. They’d changed, transformed, and it had only spread like a wildfire from there.

With people constantly out on the streets to protest and express their disbelief and opposition to diseases being formulated in the first place, it was not that difficult for it to spread. And spread it did. 

Humankind really took a hit. There was no organization, no plan, no stability to overcome the outbreak. The government was too busy trying to better their image and hide their mistakes that no one even considered a plan of action to tackle the sickness and the spread. It was literal hell. Infrastructure was being torn down, people were turning against each other, either locking themselves away from everyone else or going out into the world to try to play hero. 

You had a sliver of luck on your side. 

Now, you didn’t make it without pain and hardships, no, the world would simply be going too easy on you. But when you and your college friends decided to scram, to flee in prevention of being cornered, it played out rather nicely. Others had traveled back home, or hid themselves in their dorms, too scared to go out and face the world. Their poor choices usually resulted in them being practically overtaken with zombies, with nowhere else to run. 

You decided to keep it simple. To keep moving. 

Your plan was to move upwards, towards the North. When the disease had initially broken out and there was still debate on whether it was a legitimate issue or not, nobody had really taken it seriously if the government wasn’t taking it seriously. In the early stages, when everyone was wishy-washy and laughing about it on their timelines, an organization in the North was formed and said to have set up a base- just in case. 

It worked out in your favor. Just a little bit. 

You had left with your roommate, Nobara, and her girlfriend Maki. The three of you participated in all the chaos, too- what else could you have done? Law was no longer applicable. The three of you sought out to steal, to take, to do what you needed. You remember it all, the beginning of summer.

You focus back on your calendar. It’s late October now. 

You were also completely alone now. Nobara and Maki had given up their lives when the three of you scrambled around a sporting goods store for weapons and had been targeted by a herd of zombies. Maki was the strongest, so she took it upon herself to fend them off until it became slightly overbearing. Nobara had jumped in to help, the both of them hollering at you to hurry and find a weapon and run. One last look into their eyes was all it took, for they knew the both of them wouldn’t be able to make it out alive. 

You traveled alone, carrying a huge backpack with a bright red wagon trailing behind you at all times. All food, cooking ware, and clothing were stored in the wagon, protected by a tarp and a heap load of bungee cords. The backpack held all the little snacks, medicine, and bottles of hot water. It was never hot by choice. It just never cooled fully after you boiled it to fend away the bacteria. 

In the very back pocket, where a laptop would typically be, was your crumpled calendar. 

Every evening was the same- you had a three-step routine to provide yourself a feeling of stability in the midst of chaos; 1) Hide yourself amongst the trees, 2) Cross off the day in your calendar, 3) Go straight to sleep. It was a routine that had a sense of simplicity and discipline that you so desperately needed. You could not let yourself forget to mark off the days (you’d probably lose your mind from the lack of track of time) and you absolutely could not let yourself stay awake longer than needed. Sometimes, you would explore an unwelcome corner in your mind. A corner that whispered that maybe you’d be better off just dying, at this rate. No more struggles, no more worries, just sleep. Luckily, the sounds of nature and the idea of a better future always pulled you out of that spiral. 

You tuck your marker into your pocket and bring the floppy thing close to yourself before a feeling of embarrassment comes over you, as if someone is watching you from afar. 

With heated cheeks, you scurry to sloppily stuff it back into the back pocket of your pack before curling up against it, pulling your parka tighter against yourself to go to sleep. 

When you woke up, everything was the same. The world was still falling apart, and you were still alone. 

You hauled yourself up and pat at your cheeks- they stung from the oncoming cold. You knew that winter would be difficult to handle- you figured it would probably be much worse than the summer. You’d just have to face it alone, with limited shelter and supplies. 

You pulled on your backpack, tugged at the handle of your wagon, and went on your way. 

You weren’t alone for long. 

You walked at the edges of the forest, smart enough to not make yourself a target in the middle of the road, but you still needed it to guide you. You were well hidden among the trees, but were close enough to peek out between branches and leaves to make out the pattern of the street. 

A loud snap had jolted you awake from your light daydreaming. You immediately stopped walking and slowly reached down to the wagon, trying to pull the tarp away as quietly as possible. 

Your eyes flitted among the scenery, mind on alert as you reached for the only impactful weapon you had- a bat. 

You managed to successfully grab it, and you held it out defensively, waiting for something to come rushing at you. A few minutes pass and nothing happens. 

Knuckles turning white from your grip on the handle, you stepped forward slowly, trying to find the source of the sound. It was a stupid move, you knew, but you also could not keep moving with the knowledge that there was possibly a zombie in the same woods as you. It would probably eat you alive- the idea and the zombie. 

You try not to trek too far from your wagon, and you promise to yourself that after a couple more steps, you’ll turn back around and you’ll act like this never happened to save yourself from panic later. 

Your little plan is interrupted when your eyes make out a figure not too far from yourself. It’s tall, and unnervingly still, with its back facing you. You can’t decipher whether or not it’s a human. 

You squint and make out the movement of clean, steady hands. You see, in one hand, a little radio, crackling and emitting fuzzy noises. The other hand is occupied by something that you cannot make out. It’s at that moment that you know you’re safe- at least you hope so. 

The sight of another human excites you so much, you cannot help the sudden adrenaline that surrounds your heart and the smile that reaches your face as you cheerily (and semi-softly) call out, “Hey!” 

The person whirls around and suddenly your heart drops, the adrenaline mushing into dread, your smile faltering. He faces you with a gun, held up high, level with his eyes in order to aim properly. 

He gives you a once-over before interrogating you. “What do you want?” 

“Oh,” You sputter, limbs feeling heavy with fear. “N-Nothing,” You try, “Just…. just bumped into you here.” 

“Okay,” He starts hesitantly, dark blue eyes showing you distrust. “Run off, then.” 

Your heart drops even harder, this time. To think that he doesn’t want anything to do with you, that he doesn’t even want to talk, to meet another human. You assume he’s alone, too, since he’s got a backpack that looks much heavier than your own right on his back, straps tight. 

It’s not that you necessarily expect anything from him- it’s just that this is a rare moment. You haven’t spoken to another person in months. 

The crackling of the radio fills in the quiet between the two of you before he pulls you from your thoughts, “We can part ways, now.” 

His voice is only slightly condescending, and he talks as if it’s an obvious fact. 

“Wait,” You lazily blurt, hand reaching out just a little as if he had offered something for you to hold onto. “Don’t you want to be friends?”

He scoffs at you, embarrassing you. “Friends?”

“W-well, not friends,” You struggle, ears and neck heating up, “Just, yunno, partners or- yunno?” 

“No.” 

His blatant answer makes you wince. As much as he makes you feel small, a sliver of desperation shines through your timid form and you try again. “You know what I mean,” You breath out exasperatedly, “There’s nearly no one else left in the world. Might as well work together. We can take turns patrolling and sleeping, and especially when it comes to gathering supplies- like the buddy system, kinda- and things will run smoother. We can put what we have together.” 

He knew you were right. He hated that he knew you were right.

Truthfully, Megumi had no intentions to create bonds and team up with people. He thought it would only slow him down, both physically and mentally- he went out of his way to avoid attachment. 

He responds with silence, so you give it another shot. 

“I’m moving North, too… if that’s… if that’s what you plan to do as well.” 

It catches him, and you knew you had won him over. And he knew, that you knew, that you had convinced him enough. The way that he had faltered and his stern expression melted into one of surprise told you all that you needed to know. 

You gave him a little smile to soften the blow of his loss. 

“Fine,” He says through gritted teeth, letting his arm fall to his side in defeat. He sees you keep your eyes trained on the gun, so he tucks it away in an attempt to ease your nerves. 

You tell him about your supply wagon and let him know he can probably lighten the load on his back by mixing his supplies with yours. While you lead him back down the path where you had abandoned your precious wagon, you try to get him to converse with you. His silent nature made you a little nervous, but you were deeply in need of human connection. 

“Oh! By the way, my name-” 

“No.”

You cough and look up at him, shock written across your features. “Huh?”

“We shouldn’t do that. Exchange names, I mean. It’s just the two of us, we’ll be fine without it.” 

“Huh?” You call out again, this time louder and with more confusion. He shoots you a glare that tells you to shut up. 

“But- why not? What am I supposed to call you?” 

“I already said, it’s just the two of us. Who else could you be addressing? Exchanging names makes us friends. We are, by no means, friends.”

You watch him speak with an unbothered tone, eyes not even meeting yours as he empties half of his supplies into the wagon. Your mouth is slightly agape and you falter to respond, but as he swings his backpack around, a flash of black and white catches your attention. 

“Are those…” You trail off before he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“Are those plushies?”

You see him freeze, and his pale skin blossoms with color. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” You huff out playfully, almost circling him to get a better look at the little fluffy keychains that hang clustered together at the zipper of his backpack. Two tiny but puffy little dogs of opposite colors stare right back at you, felt tongues poking out and all. 

“Huh. Didn’t peg you as a dog boy. Or an anyone boy, for that matter.”

“Are you done? We need to keep moving.”

“Alright, alright,” You huff, reaching for the handle of the wagon. He takes hold of it before you get the chance and starts walking, and you feel your heart smile at his silent offer to pull it for you. You didn’t think there was a deeper meaning to it, you were just happy that you didn't have to haul that heavy thing around for once. “No need to be snappy, Dog Boy.” 

He only groans in response. 

The rest of the day flies by in silence. You try your luck a few times to start a conversation, to pull anything out of him, but he’s so damn stubborn, either keeping his eyes  focused on the path ahead or fiddling with his radio. The radio gives him an excuse to tell you to shut up, since he needs to hear if there are any broadcasts or incoming news- signs of life. 

He finally speaks up when he claims it’s time to sleep. 

The two of you settle against a cluster of tree trunks, and you repeat the same thing you’ve been doing for months on end- laying against your backpack, looking at your calendar with a glint of hope and desperation in your eyes. 

Megumi watches as you pull and flatten it out before rummaging around for your marker. He narrows his eyes and tries to focus on the clunky piece of paper you seem to be carrying around. 

He makes out the rows and columns of dates, an unimpressed look dawning on his face. “Don’t tell me…”

“Hm?” You hum lightly, beckoning him to continue. 

“Don’t tell me you carry that thing around and actually use it.” 

“What else can I say? We’ll need it, in the future. Once everything starts going back to normal, people are gonna be like, ‘Oh no! What day is it? What season are we going into? Must we start a new calendar?’ And then, I’ll have my trusty calendar right here, with all the dates crossed off. Think about it. Very important.” 

He remains quiet as you make big ‘X’ on the final date, October 31st. 

“Hm. We met on Halloween. Funny, isn’t it? I think it suits you a little.”

He disregards your last comment and speaks with a monotone voice, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Humanity will never recover- that thing’s useless. Just taking up space.” 

You fall quiet after that. Normally, you think, you wouldn’t be too iffed by some pessimism. But his comment regarding your calendar and how easily he dismissed your hopes had hurt, just a little. 

Maybe more than a little. 

You instinctively held the thing a little closer to you, as if to protect it. You avoid his eyes and silently decide that the conversation should probably end there. 

He sees you shift a little farther away from him, bringing the stupid thing closer to your chest. He can’t find it in himself to care. 

You admire that cheesy stock photo on the top of the calendar before flipping the bottom page to sneak at a glance for the photo for November. It’s a scene of a pathway formed by trees, nearly dead trees, with the leaves caught mid-fall, yellows and oranges everywhere. November is, again, printed in large cursive at the top of the page. 

You fold it back up and jam it into your backpack before pulling it down closer to your head, to use it as a pillow. You wrap yourself up in your parka and turn to sleep on your side, back facing Megumi. He sees it all from the corner of his eye and scoffs to himself, remarking how childish you are. 

Steady hands lay his gun next to him, close to his head- just in case he ever needs it throughout the night. He sleeps firm on his back, but he turns his head to look at you just before he dozes off. 

Bathing becomes much easier, now that Megumi’s around. 

Before the two of you crossed paths, you would rid yourself of your clothes shakily, always leaving them on the rocks that kissed the lake. You couldn’t even clean yourself off properly, eyes always on the lookout for movement or an undead form to creep up on you. 

You had begged him. Shamelessly. The whole morning consisted of you yapping away, Please, Dog Boy, there’s a perfectly good lake right there, and a rock for you to sit on while you wait and patrol. I’ll patrol after. I really, really need this bath. 

He wouldn’t even look at you as he gave you a hard No.

Megumi was beyond dead set on moving forward. Over the last few days, he was always quick to shut you down and occasionally scold you for being so easily distracted and perhaps a little too light-hearted for your own good.

But this was your last straw. 

He only caved in when you threatened to wipe some of your sweat off on him. You had never seen him recoil from something so fast. 

After making him literally swear to not turn around and peek while you were bathing- to which he had rolled his eyes and told you he wouldn’t even dare to consider such a thing- you pointed to the rock for him to sit on before you began to strip. Megumi could only hear the light splashes of you walking into the water and your little cries of Oh my god, it’s so fucking cold. 

You gladly took advantage of such a moment. Finally, you had got to scrub every corner of your skin, finally got to really wash at your scalp, all without looking around in fear of what’s out there. 

And maybe you were taking a little too long, because after a while, Megumi coughed out to remind you that he was still there. His back was starting to hurt from sitting on the rock for so long without proper support. 

“How much longer are you going to take?” 

“Not too much longer,” You sing-songed, clumsily trying to dip your head in the water to wash out your hair. 

He rolled his eyes to himself at the tone of your voice. You were much too playful for his liking. 

“Don’t worry, Doggy,” You teased, though your voice was slightly muffled from your awkward position in the water. “You can bathe after this. Although, you might smell worse after- like wet dog.” 

He could hear you laughing to yourself like a child.

Megumi never responded to your little lighthearted jabs. 

Life goes on as it always has. With Megumi so quiet, sometimes you ponder if you had been better off just walking away from him that day. And, if he wasn’t quiet, he was always on your back about something.

(“Why’s this water so warm?” 

“I boiled it. It’s from the lake. We can’t get sick, you know.” 

“You poured hot water into an insulated water bottle?” 

“My God, just- just drink the damn water, Doggy. Or don’t, not like I care. More for me.”

“Shut up. I’ll drink it.”)

The two of you were nearly on opposite ends of the spectrum, personality wise. You two would’ve probably clashed if you hadn’t taken things in such a jovial manner. He even started calling you Sunshine mockingly, as if to belittle you for being so stupidly bright and optimistic when the world was reaching its end. 

The first time he called you that, you had actually smiled. He had to refrain from reprimanding you for being so… so...happy-go-lucky. 

He couldn’t pinpoint as to why your preppy nature had irritated him so much, but his epiphany reached him one night when the two of you settled against a group of tree trunks, like you always did. 

You were, as always, cuddled up with your little calendar. Megumi discreetly watched as you marked off the day, taking note of how you had to redraw the ‘X’ a few times. Your marker was drying out. 

You were well into November, and you scanned over the rows of dates, spotting the box marked Thanksgiving. With your tongue slightly poking out, you poorly drew a little turkey inside the box. 

He watched as you scanned over the top and bottom page again, but he felt like your mind was elsewhere. 

“When’s your birthday?” 

Your question caught him off guard, and he flustered as he quickly looked away, fearing that you had seen him watching. 

“What?” 

“Your birthday. When’s your birthday?” 

He cast you an awkward sort of look. “December 22nd.” 

“Cool,” You replied almost automatically before flipping the page of your calendar. Megumi’s eyes only slightly widened as he witnessed you try to cram the words Dog Boy Birthday in the little box marked with 22. He was unsure if he was meant to see that. He didn’t want to embarrass you by mentioning it, but he felt like it shouldn’t go unmentioned, either. 

“You don’t need to do that.” 

“Why not?” You were being genuine. 

“Because,” He said without knowing what it was he wanted to say. “Because. It’s pointless.” 

“Pointless this, pointless that.” 

Your comeback wasn’t all that great, but you had brushed off his statement so easily- you had seemed to have grown accustomed to his little remarks, especially the ones with negative tones behind it. 

That’s when his revelation crashed over him. It hit him so strongly, and he was frozen in place as you mumbled a goodnight before cuddling up to your clunky backpack. 

You were so precious. Because despite all your banter, you were always playful about it, and when you weren’t being playful, you were being genuine. You always openly offered him things, the fair share of your supplies, always told him to get some sleep while you keep watch, always told him to eat up, have the last of your water bottles, always looked out for him in little ways that he did not bother to return. And, what irritated him so much about it was that you were so vulnerable, open, shamelessly smiling and laughing alone or at him, trying to get him to laugh too. And he hated how you had done all this, offered so much to him, remained open to him, only for him to constantly chastise you and feed you despairing comments. 

He wanted you to put up more of a fight. He wanted you to be able to be okay, without him. Megumi criticized himself after having that thought. He knew that your nature didn’t equate to weakness, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander off a little…. 

You were so easy to trust him. At any moment could you have given up something to him and he could’ve just ran off with it, leaving you empty handed and destined to literally die. He thought that if something were to ever happen to him, and you kept going on with your open, kittenish self, that someone would come along and take everything you ever knew and had. 

Thinking of it made his chest pinch. He felt guilty for criticizing your calendar, the symbolization of all your hopes, on the day that you met. If he hadn’t realized this all now, he may have become the one to take all that you knew and had, figuratively. The way that he had belittled your dreams for the future had already spoken for itself. 

He laid down to finally sleep after swallowing down his thoughts, and he turned to look at your sleeping form, wantonly. He wanted to be better to you.

Suddenly, he thinks about how weird he looks, watching you sleep. His ears flush red and he turns to sleep on his side, back facing you, as if he needs to cover his tracks from the peering trees. 

You’re woken up by a string of broken, awkward groans. 

You assume it’s Megumi. Your eyes are crusted with sleep, so you don’t even bother to flash him a teasing look as you lightly jab, “Hush, Doggy.” 

He doesn’t respond with his usual sneer or command to shut the hell up, but with an even louder, pained groan. 

You sigh to yourself. He’s probably having a nightmare. You feel generous enough to break him from his terrors and lazily sit up, roughly rubbing away at your eyes and reaching over to him. 

Your hands meet a still, soft and sleeping form, completely at peace. 

You do a double-take when the feeling of his form contradicts the pained sounds he’s making and suddenly, you’re up and wide awake, especially when you come to realize that the groans are not coming from him. 

Whirling around to find the source, you come to see a beat-down zombie, tumbling its way towards you both. It’s missing a leg and its steps are off-kilter, slow, and if you had it in you to laugh at it, you’d probably laugh. 

“Holy shit,” You whisper to yourself, body stilling out of fear. For a few seconds, you can’t bring yourself to do anything, and the creature crawls closer, despite it being so slow. 

You finally come to your senses and weakly shake Megumi to wake him up. 

He’s knocked out cold. You figure that it’s from exhaustion- the both of you had been taking a beating from your recent drop in supplies. The last thing the two of you ate was a granola bar for yesterday’s breakfast. It wasn’t even a whole granola bar- Megumi split it in half for the both of you. You had let him have the last drop of hot water, too. The both of you were running on empty.

You trip over yourself and hastily pull on your backpack, still focusing on getting Megumi to awake. 

“Dog Boy,” You whisper-yell, lightly kicking at his leg. It’s ridiculous, you think. All of this is ridiculous. You have only a sliver of time to spare, thanks to the zombie moving at the speed of molasses, so you settle yourself behind Megumi and wrap your arm across his torso, beneath his own arms, your grip on him loose as you drag his body further away. Your main priority now is getting away, creating distance between you and the undead figure. As you tug on him, his gun slips out into the sunlight and you gasp, using your other hand to grab at it shakily. 

You had no idea how to use it. 

You hold it up to the sun and try to look for the little safety knob that you often heard that guns have. You spotted it, but you couldn’t tell if it was on or not. 

You’re sloppily scooting back, heaving Megumi with you, nearly falling backwards from the weight of your backpack. If you’re being honest, the two of you hadn’t even gotten that far. With Megumi attached to his backpack, he was heavy, and with your newfound weakness from exhaustion, the two of you probably only moved five inches max. 

The creature looms closer, and on second thought, maybe using the gun isn’t that smart of an idea. It would be noisy, easily giving away your location and the two of you would instantly become magnets, become bait. You wouldn’t be able to drag Megumi away fast enough to save yourselves. 

You eye around for your bat but it’s much too far. It’s tucked away under the tarp on your wagon and the zombie is already too close, surpassing the wagon- there’s no way you could get it without actually surviving.

Tears prick at your eyes. No, you think, now’s not the time. Your hands are shaking- you’ve never been this close to a zombie before- and you’re thinking fuck it, your arm letting Megumi go to steady your grip on the gun. 

Megumi drops down on the ground with a thud as you release him, but you don’t have the time to fret over it and ask if he’s okay. You think your ears are playing tricks on you when you hear a groan that’s a little too close. 

You wrap your hands around the base and stupidly close your eyes as your finger lands on the trigger. 

Everything after happens too fast for you to register, almost like a dream. You feel cold hands wrap around your own and tear the weapon away from you, and then a few loud bangs go off, and then it’s quiet. 

“Christ,” He mutters, voice caked from sleep. His eyes are droopy, and he looks so jaded, you’re preparing for him to chew you out about how stupid you were being before offering a list of what you could’ve done better. 

But he only slumps from fatigue, closer to you, nearly into you. He’s the weakest you’ve ever seen him, but guilt nips at the edges of his heart for making you go through such a thing. 

“Are you okay?” He finally breathes out, lifting his head to meet your eyes. 

You’re taken back at the sudden display of concern. 

He sees your face flash with unfamiliarity as a response to his question. The guilt makes its way past the edges and into the depths of his heart, now. He hopes it’s not too late. He hopes that he hasn't already become that person for you, the one that takes everything you know. 

“Yeah,” You say quietly from the shock of it all. 

Megumi falls silent after that, tired.

A few beats pass and he speaks, “We need to keep moving,” He says weakly, convincing himself more than you. 

“Yeah.” 

Lethargy is a plague between the both of you. 

Megumi tells you that you both need to find a store, and fast. He pulls out a map from one of his backpack pockets, and it’s so torn and dampened with water and other questionable substances that you can barely even make out the lines. 

But he reads it like a pro. He misses the look of admiration in your eyes when he finally concludes that it would be smarter to move in closer towards the suburban area. He says there’s a higher chance of strip malls and markets to sneak around and take from. You trust his word. 

The trek there is nearly torturous.

It’s getting colder, and you try not to think about how the two of you will survive when winter hits. Your feet ache and ache, and you’re sure that you’re slowing Megumi down- you swear you see him slow down his steps just the slightest. You have to refrain from complaining like a small child, asking over and over Are we there yet?

You finally reach a parking lot, and you think you could nearly drop down to your knees and kiss the gravel.

Your sense of euphoria is interrupted as a horrible stench reaches your nose. It’s unmistakable; it makes you double over and slap a hand over your nose and mouth, coughing roughly as you feel a series of gags coming on. 

Dead bodies were sporadically laying across the parking lot, some human, some zombie. Megumi looks at you pitifully, then looks away as you live through your coughing fit, not wanting you to feel worse about being seen in such a state. 

“‘So bad,” You finally manage to wheeze out, cueing him to look at you. 

He reaches into the wagon, towards the end of it, where the clothing was stored all lumpy. He had to slowly pull out whatever it was he was looking for so that nothing else spilled out, and he tugged one end of it slowly, revealing it to you. 

A big, lumpy scarf that has the most terrible pink camouflage print all across it. It’s horrendous, really. You remember you had stuffed it into your wagon a few months back, thinking about how you’d probably need it later. 

Now was later. 

He steps closer to you, close enough that it’s distracting and you nearly freak out at the proximity. He sees your confusion spark across your face and he hushes you before you even start. “To help with the smell.” 

That’s all he says as he reaches behind you, gently wrapping the scarf across your head, leaving you enough room to breathe but making it secure enough so that the scent is muffled. 

“‘M so tired, Doggy.” Your voice was stifled by the heavy fabric. 

“I know,” He says, and he does. 

You then feel bad for voicing your little complaint. Megumi was just as tired as you were, perhaps even more, and he hadn’t complained once, nor did he scold you for being a crybaby like you thought he would. 

Once he saw that you were satisfied with the scarf and concluded that you wouldn’t bend over and gag again, he smoothed his hand over his jacket awkwardly. “I’m gonna go inside and find more stuff. Are you okay with me taking your wagon and your pack?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Megumi has to lean in closer to hear your voice. “I understand if you don’t want to trust me with all your things.” “Our things,” you enunciate. 

“It’s-” He starts, then pauses abruptly. He doesn’t want to keep creating a divide between the two of you. “Yeah. Ours,” He affirms, searching your eyes for a reaction. He can tell you’re smiling stupidly (cutely) behind the scarf. 

“You’re sure?”

“More than anything.” 

He thinks, for a second, that your answer means something more. But you play it off, immediately taking off your backpack, so he chastises his previous thought as he takes your nearly empty pack into his hands. “Are you gonna stay out here?”

“Mhm. I’ll try ‘n find a place to sit.” 

“Okay. I won’t take long, I promise.” 

“Thank you.” 

He turns on his heel and walks in a straight line towards the entrance of the store, where you can make out the broken and crooked sliding doors that had probably been jammed so many times before they gave in. 

You take note of how many vehicles have been haphazardly left behind in the parking lot, mostly likely during moments of panic. 

If only... 

You begin to search the parking lot, bending down to get a clearer sight of all the miscellaneous objects scattered across the ground. Something glints in the corner of your eye, and you perk up, rushing towards it before scooping it up in your hand. 

It’s a clunky, round keychain that says Dog Dads Are The, and right below the text is an image of a dog taking a dump. 

“Huh,” You huff out with a little smile, “Perfect.” 

You take hold of the set of keys that are strung along the ring and single one out- vehicle keys. They’re the type of keys that you have to manually insert into the lock in order to actually open the car door. 

As soon as you stand up straight, you search for the oldest looking car throughout the entire parking lot. Your eyes fall upon a truck that looks like it’s been to hell and back, little scratches and scuff marks lining the sides with splotches of blood on the doors. You note that it only has two doors- the two of you will really have to squeeze in. 

If you ignore the poetic spots of blood, it's one solid color- a color that resembles dirt, you think. It looks like a little old farm truck, with crates stacked in the bed, and there’s a little figure of a cow swinging from the rear view mirror. 

You try your luck and insert the key, to which it fits. Your heart has never fluttered so viciously before. 

Turning the key, you see the little button on the inside of the door pop up. The door swings open ungraciously, a creaky sound ringing out. It makes you freeze, looking around to see if you had alerted anything that could be lurking. 

You decide to hold off until Megumi comes back. It’s completely dead quiet, and he might freak out inside the store at the sound of an engine. 

Just as he promised, he didn’t take long. He steps out to see you sitting in the truck with the door open, your knees brought close to your chest, and although the both of you are incredibly grimey, spent and hanging on to your final threads, you look so peaceful curled up like that. He thinks that maybe he would’ve liked to see you like that, under better circumstances. 

“Sunshine,” He starts as he gets closer, and you open your eyes and unravel from your coiled position. 

Megumi shuffles towards the bed of the truck and starts unpacking the wagon into the back. “Got some food,” he offers, unloading a loaf of bread that has yet to go stale. You hold it like it’s precious, waiting for him to unpack everything into your new truck. 

“Does it have gas?” 

“Dunno,” You say tiredly, and hopelessness sneaks up on you again. Perhaps you had put too many eggs in one basket. 

“Move over.” 

You scoot to the opposite side of the seat to make room for him. He plops down in the driver's seat and you perk up to hand him the keys, “Look, look.” Untangling all the keys from each other, you proudly hold up the keychain to his face. He furrows his eyebrows at first, but then his face melts into an amused expression as he reads over the whole thing and gets the joke. 

“Very funny.” He rolls his eyes, but you know he’s being lighthearted. 

He takes the key and inserts it, holding his breath in hopes that it’ll work, that the heavens are on your side today. 

They seemed to be, since after a few turns, the engine sputtered and coughed, and soon enough, it was settled. Megumi checks the gas level and nods approvingly to himself. He explains that it’s enough to get you a bit farther, but it’d be smart to keep an eye out for gas stations, or, better yet, other vehicles. 

You unwrap your scarf from around yourself and begin to unveil the loaf of bread as well, breaking the fluffy food in half to share. The two of you eat in silence, save for the low humming of the engine. You’re too tired to talk.  

Through the window, you see that it’s getting darker, and you remember your calendar. As you shuffle around to pull it out, Megumi seems to remember something as well, as he takes his bag into his lap and unzips one of the front, small pockets. 

You don’t notice his hesitation as you bring out the floppy thing and lay it on the dashboard, smoothing all the wrinkles away. 

He stares into his backpack pocket. He knows it’s okay to be vulnerable with you. He wants to be vulnerable with you. Embarrassment rushes up his neck and to his ears, but you don’t notice. You’re too busy shaking your old marker to force some ink to come out. 

“Here,” He breaks the silence, voice cracking from the lack of use. “Here’s…. I figured you might need it, I…” Megumi shuts himself up as he sloppily tosses you a pack of permanent markers. 

The way your face lights up makes it all worth it. He thinks he could face this type of embarrassing feeling every day if it makes you this happy. 

“D’awwwww,” You coo, poking fun at him. You’re as jovial as always, eyes bright as you uncap one of the markers and mark the day off, marveling at how smoothly the marker glides. 

He speaks up before he can stop himself. “I’m sorry.”

You pause and look back at him, the look on your face encouraging him to go on. 

“I mean, I’m sorry for… what I said on the day we met. About your calendar.” 

Your demeanor lightens again. 

“Ah, that- don’t worry, Doggy. I don’t even think about that, barely even remember it. It’s okay. You’re good.” 

He knows you’re being genuine, and that you really do forgive him. He sees it in the way you brush it off, going back to your markers and looking at them like they’re made out of gold. He feels something in his chest lighten, like the guilt from that night had been weighing him down this entire time. 

Once the both of you finish your chunks of bread, and after you tuck your calendar away, you curl up on opposite sides of the seat and sleep the most comfortable you have in ages. 

Everything’s a breeze now that the two of you have the truck. 

It’s easier to fend off the cold, and the both of you have more energy since you don’t have to walk anywhere. The days seem to fly by faster, and with each passing day, you see Megumi opening up to you a little more. He’s not as harsh as he used to be, and even when he does mock you, it’s playful and light. There’s no more malice laced in his tone. 

He’s softer now, cares more now. He accepts your invitations and attempts at making it concrete that it’s the both of you, together, as survival partners or whatever he likes to call it. Your stomach feels warm whenever he agrees or accepts your little comments about things being ‘ours’, referring to you as ‘us’ and ‘we’ rather than correcting you to ‘I’ like he used to. 

It’s not enough for you, though. You can’t help but want a little more. You’re thankful that the two of you greet December, because a) you’re grateful to have even survived this long, and b) it’s much colder now, so he doesn’t question you that much when you coyly try to cozy up to him before bed, complaining about how you’re freezing and that you’ll die of frostbite. 

He sees through your little act. He never mentions it, but he does. Megumi’s more than happy to let you have your fun. 

Megumi’s usually the one who sneaks out into stores to refill your load of supplies, and you stay cozied in the truck. He says it’s because at any moment, if any one of you are away from the vehicle, someone just like you could easily take it. His statement is true, but he doesn’t mention his second, secret little reason- he likes to know that you’re safe and warm in there. 

 One day, though, you try to kiss up to him so that he’ll let you loot with him. 

The morning starts off with you feeding him little compliments that are definitely out of pocket. 

“Your hair looks rather nice today, Dog Boy.” 

“Oh….yours, too.” 

“Mhm. And that jacket you stole fits you well, I think. Really, uh, matches your vibe.” 

“Yep.” 

“Yeah. Your scarf looks real… real snazzy, too.”

That pulls a laugh out of him- he had been borrowing your pink camouflage scarf. He knew something was up, and you knew he did. You just wanted to get on his good side, at least for today. 

“What is it that you want, Sunshine?”

“I wanna help you today, when you go fetch supplies.” 

He’s driving, but you think that if he was doing anything else, he’d stop his movements. He recovers as fast as he had reacted and clears his throat. “Why?” 

“I need some stuff.” 

“Stuff.” 

“Yeah.” You hope he doesn’t ask for elaboration. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

You let out a groan and let your head rest against the window, putting on a dramatic little show so that maybe he’ll cave. 

He doesn’t seem to be caving in any time soon, and from afar, you can see the parking lot. You’re eyeing him nervously, unsure if you should bring it up or not, but you make the first move when you hold onto the door handle as if you’re preparing to get out once he parks. 

He’s hesitant, takes his time to park and drives through the lot as if every space was taken. He could’ve taken up three spaces, if he wanted. 

“Doggy. Stop stalling.” “I just think you’d be safer if you stayed here.” 

“I’ll be fast. I’ll get what I need and then come right back.” 

That seems to ease his nerves, so he silently agrees and parks perfectly between the two lines before shutting the truck off. 

You walk together to the entrance of the store, but as soon as you make it inside, he laughs to himself when you make a beeline to the sweets aisle. He couldn’t believe that you made such a fuss to join along just to get some of those mini cakes. 

  You stay true to your word and gather what you need before making your way back to the truck, keeping an eye out for Megumi. You hope he doesn’t see the small chocolate muffin that you’ve stuffed close to your chest in a weak attempt to hide it. He’d probably make fun of you. 

When everything’s done and he meets you back at the truck, he’s slightly surprised to see that you hadn’t eaten your little sweet during ‘dinner’. He doesn’t have the energy to confront you about it. 

Today’s the day, you think. 

It’s difficult and very painful to conceal your excitement for all the hours that you spend at Megumi’s side. You try to calm your nerves by making lots of conversation with him, now that he’s more responsive. At first, you were the one to talk about your family, your old friends, how you grew up. Lately, though, in his mission to be more vulnerable and open with you, he reciprocates and tells you about his past, here and there. 

Night falls. He’s closing up one of his stories about one of his old teachers that usually made you laugh till you cried. It makes you laugh this time too, except your heart is racing and you can feel your palms getting a little sweaty. 

The both of you go quiet as you eat lightly, taking only a few bites before calling it a night. 

“I have a surprise for you,” You suddenly say, and his face is plastered with confusion. “I need you to close your eyes.” 

He’s so obviously taken aback that you snort at him. “Just for a second, it won’t take long. Please.”

He complies and places his hands over his eyes to reassure you that they’re for sure closed and that he can’t see anything. Megumi hears you rummaging around in your bag that you kept at your feet, hears you tear something open, and then you fall quiet. 

You kind of want to throw up. You don’t know why this feels so difficult, why it’s making you so nervous. In the past, when Megumi was mean to you, you think that this might’ve been easier, because you’d be able to tell what reaction he would give. 

You can’t tell anymore. 

You collect yourself together before you speak up, finally, “Okay. You can look now.” 

He removes his hands to see you sitting sideways in your seat, to face him. Your feet are tucked beneath you and you hold out a sloppy, slightly smeared chocolate muffin with an unlit candle stuck on top. 

“Happy birthday, Dog Boy.” 

Your voice is so soft and quiet, and he feels something take over him for a second. It’s strong, this feeling of adoration and something else he’s too nervous to admit, even to himself. He’s about to ask how in the world you would know that today’s his birthday, because he didn’t even know- but then he remembers the night you had written it into your calendar. 

“You,” He begins, nearly breathless. “Thank you.” 

You smile up at him and scoot closer, pushing the muffin towards him so that he could take it. He does, and he removes the candle and puts it on the dashboard, letting it roll away carelessly. 

The muffin looks miniature in his big hands, which is to his advantage as he splits it into two, effortlessly. He offers you a piece and you take it with a big, gushy smile on your face. You don’t see him smiling back at you endearingly. 

You’re bashful like the two of you are having a lunch date in a school courtyard. You want to look at him, revel in his features, but you don’t want to be caught staring either. 

You throw yourself a bone and let yourself glance at him. He’s finished his piece, and all he’s doing now is swiping the crumbs off of his jacket. As he shifts around, you see a smudge of chocolate right by his lip. 

“Wait,” You start, leaning closer. “There’s frosting on your lip.” 

“Here?” He pokes his tongue out on the wrong side, and you have to bite back a little smile. 

“No, no- I’ll get it for you,” You offer, leaning in even closer to him, nearly crawling right on top. You stick your thumb out gently, your touch feather light as you bring it to the corner of his lip and wipe off the small spot of frosting. 

You linger on purpose, and his breath hitches. 

“Sunshine,” He breathes, hands frozen in the air. He’s unsure of where to put them. 

“Mhm?”

“Can I,” He starts, hesitates, then starts again. “Can I kiss you?” 

Your smile speaks for you, but the moment that you let out a breathy yes, he cups your face and slots his lips against yours. He’s so soft, despite it being winter and the both of you constantly dry and chapped. He holds you, moves you like you’re a glass doll, so cautious and gentle. Megumi begins to shift the both of you, sitting up before pushing you down onto the seat. 

It’s awkward. The truck is so small, the both of you clunking around, but you two take it like champs. He breaks away to give a little laugh against your lips, easing the tension, and it’s so wonderful, so beautiful, that you waste no time pulling him back down to kiss him just a bit harder. 

You figure that he’s hesitant, and you appreciate that he isn’t pushy and trying to cross all boundaries at once. You know that if you only wanted to kiss and call it a night, he’d be perfectly okay with that. 

But you’re as greedy as ever, and you want more of him. 

You start playing with his lips, pulling away to softly bite at them, dart your tongue across the bottom one. It makes him freeze for a second, feelings of surprise and excitement engulfing his heart, but then he indulges. Megumi gently pulls your bottom lip into his mouth and sucks on it, thumb softly caressing your jaw. 

And you’re so starved, having gone months without even shaking someone’s hand. His actions make you gasp out softly, and he feels driven to pull more out of you. 

Megumi catches himself in his thoughts and pulls away again, “This- Is this okay?” 

You’re melting beneath him. You nod rapidly, begging silently. “Yes,” You huff out, precious smile coming across your lips. “Please.” 

He nods and then dives back in to kiss you square on the lips before moving lower, planting kisses down your neck as much as he can before your puffy parka interrupts him. He smiles fondly and looks up at you, seeing if you would notice the obstruction. 

“Oh,” You let out, face hot. “Sorry.” 

You’re so embarrassed, but Megumi thinks he could just eat you up. 

You prop yourself onto your elbows as best as you can, messily unzipping the jacket and flinging it away. It’s not like it goes far, anyway. You hear the zipper scratch against the glove compartment as you thrash it away, and it makes the both of you laugh breathily. 

You watch as he takes it upon himself to do the same, undoing the buttons on his own jacket before carelessly tossing it behind him. The two of you are now just in long sleeves and cargo pants, and he looks at you with an inkling of concern. “It’s still cold,” He whispers, now that he’s lowering himself back over you, “Leave it on, yeah?” 

You want nothing more than to rip your shirt off, but you know he’s right. You know that if you take it off, the bite of the cold would probably dampen your mood. 

You can only nod obediently, eyes begging him again, for a kiss. 

Megumi sneaks back down again to pick up where he left off, kissing along your neck and down to your collarbone before your shirt blocks off the rest of your chest from him. He’s moved his hands lower to rearrange your legs, to make it more comfortable for the both of you, and you’re so pliant beneath him, wanting all of his touches. 

His hands reach the button of your pants, “I’m gonna…” he starts, but never finishes. He’s caught up in the way you lift your hips to help him slide down your pants, caught up in the sight of you in your underwear. 

As soon as he tugs them off and pushes them to the side, you hiss as the cool air kisses your skin, and he’s quick to soothingly rub at your thighs, hands trailing down to your calves. 

“I know,” He soothes, warming you up. “I know, baby.” 

Megumi wants to take it slow, he wants to be able to ride out the moment, but the way you whimper at his touch pushes him. “Fuck- fuck, okay.” 

His movements and options are limited due to the space of the truck. He can’t necessarily do everything he wants with you, but he's grateful for the moment regardless. 

He moves back down to kiss you, slightly softer this time, with his forearm propped beside your head to keep him up, and his other trailing up and closer to the space between your thighs. Just the movement of his fingers gently dragging across your clothed cunt is enough to have you rutting up into his hand, desperate for more, tired of his slow pace. He’s swallowing all your sounds, but he pulls back as soon as he slips his hand beneath your panties, wanting to hear you this time. Cold fingers meet your folds and you twitch, legs nearly closing around his hand, and he smiles as he tuts at you. “Relax,” He breathes out against your jaw before softly nipping at it, kissing it. 

You’re already wet, and he smiles to himself cheekily before lazily rubbing his fingers against your entrance to slicken them. It makes you sigh out, so pretty and light, and he just loves the way your chest rises and falls. 

What he loves even more, though, is the moan you let out the second that he starts circling your clit, the way your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. You’re trying to push yourself up against him, trying to feel more, but all he does is smile into your neck, absolutely basking in the way you need him so badly. 

“Please,” You finally cave, voice airy as you softly drag your nails across his back to get his attention. “More, please, I want- I want you.” 

He reaches up to plant a kiss on the corner of your lips. “All you had to do was ask.” 

He smoothly pulls down your underwear entirely, and just the sight of your arousal clinging onto the cotton fabric is enough to have him swallowing, adam’s apple bobbing. Megumi slips only his middle finger into your core at first, and it’s enough to satisfy you for now, walls fluttering. His fingers are so long, and you think about just how big his hands are, and it’s enough to make you whine in your own little fantasy. 

He takes his time in pumping it in and out of you before slipping his ring finger inside, picking up the pace. Your thighs tighten around his hand and you sloppily try to pull him down closer to you, hiding your face into the crook of his neck as he curls his fingers. The palm of his hand presses against your clit and you cry out, fingers latching onto his hair as you start your little spiel of babbles. 

“Right there, right there, oh my god, there, there-”

You cut yourself off as he speeds up, your cute little incoherent sounds encouraging him. He wishes he could see your face, see the look in your eyes, but you can only squeal into his shoulder and knock your knees against his legs as you feel something within you tighten. 

“Right here?” He teases, fingers curling against your warm walls, and the feeling of it is enough to make him hang his head low, panting, cock straining at the thought of how you’d feel around him. 

“Mhm,” You choke out, too far gone to try and say something to tease him back. Your head drops back onto the seat and you feel your back arch up against him, heat swarming in your abdomen as you chant out breathily- Yes, yes, yes. 

Megumi feels you tense up, and then you’re twitching, crying into him as you come undone all over his fingers, earning a groan from him. He works you through it, lets you have your fun before your vision is blurring and you’re half heartedly pushing his hand away. 

You fall limp beneath him and watch him with a hazy mind as he brings his fingers up to his lips, lapping at them, sucking them clean. 

You turn your head to the side, suddenly feeling shy. He smiles down at you, “Don’t try to be modest, now.” 

It makes you laugh weakly, makes you swat at his chest so softly that it feels like a mere tap. He dips back down to pepper the junction of your neck and shoulder in kisses, occasionally licking and biting, hoping little bruises bloom across your skin. 

The both of you freeze when you feel something hard poke at the inside of your thigh. 

Megumi groans, and you know he’s embarrassed. He buries his face into the side of your neck, hand slipping beneath your shirt to massage at your waist. 

You want him now, fast, before the two of you call it a night, and you want to call out for him. 

But you can’t just say Dog Boy, please fuck me. 

It makes you wince at yourself, but you’re too shy to ask for his name now. 

“Baby,” You finally breathe out, your hand running up and down his arm. 

He hums contentedly into your neck. 

“Need you,” You start quietly, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your heat. “Need you inside me.” You swear you hear him groan a low Fuck right into your skin. 

He heaves himself up, eyes glossed over with lust and a glint of something that makes your heart skip a few beats, but you don’t want to jump the gun with that just yet. You can only hope that he sees the same thing in your eyes, too. 

Megumi sloppily works on undoing his pants, heaving a content sigh when you rushedly swat his hands away and take the task into your own hands. 

He stuffs his pants past his knees, frantically trying to kick them off his legs as fast as he can. 

You nearly whine at the sight of him, like this, all for you, in front of you. 

He moves down to kiss you, pushing you back down to the seat, making sure you were lying comfortably. He takes his cock into his hand, smoothing it over your wet folds back and forth to prep himself. 

You’re panting, lifting your hips, urging him on. 

He finally aligns himself with your slit, but pauses for a second. 

“Megumi.” 

“H-Huh?” 

“My name’s Megumi,” He suddenly confesses as he pushes his tip in slowly. 

You think you carry the universe in your chest. It feels like it’s expanding, endlessly, painfully- a delicious type of pain. You’re too caught up in the newfound intimacy of learning his name that your jaw goes slack as soon as you feel him bottom out within you, breaking you from your trance. 

You feel so full. 

“Megumi,” You cry unabashedly, moving your hips, encouraging him to move. 

He groans, big hands planting themselves on your hips as he begins with slow thrusts, drawing out the feeling. He hits all the right places, but the pace he’s going at is devastating.

You’re whining, begging, babbling out for him to go faster, to fuck me, please, please Megumi, and the sound of your pretty voice crying out his name is enough to drive him insane. 

He loves torturing you, really. Loves the way you cry for him, the way you clench around him, the way your voice shakes. 

Megumi sets a fast pace, rutting into you like you’re the outlet for all his pent-up feelings. You’re squealing, and when the tip of his cock hits the spot that sends you around the world and back, you feel tears blur your vision. 

“Feels s-so good, Megumi,” You chatter dumbly, too lost in the feeling and the sounds he’s making. 

“Yeah?” He strains, grip tightening on your hips. “Look so pretty like this, baby. So fucking- oh, god- pretty.”

He enunciates his statement with a particularly hard thrust that has your toes curling, your hands tight on his biceps before he moves to fold you in half, squeezing you into a mating press as best as he can. His eyes zero in on where the two of you meet as he tries to etch the sight into his memory. 

“Megumi,” You cry weakly, “So much, so so good, so- ah!”

You can’t even form a single coherent sentence, and he thinks you’re so adorable. He watches as fresh tears cascade down the path of dried ones, and it only spurs him further. The two of you are so pathetically desperate to reach your orgasms, you don’t even mind when his thrusts become sloppy and off-kilter, when he starts groaning and even lets out the prettiest of sounds when you flutter around him. 

You manage to collect yourself for just a second. 

“Please fill me up,” You beg, nodding dumbly to egg him on. “Wanna- wanna feel you cum inside me, wanna- oh, fuck, fuck, baby, please-” 

He knows it’s probably not the smartest idea, but he’s too caught up in chasing his pleasure, and your little begs and mewls make his movements stutter before he finally stills inside you, pressing your thighs to your chest to steady himself. 

“Take it, baby. Fucking- god- take it.”

“Mhm,” You nod frantically, static invading your vision, “Make me yours, please, make me- I’m, oh, I’m yours,” You’re running your mouth nonsensically, and the feeling of his seed spilling inside of you is enough to push you past the edge until you’re crying and shaking beneath him. 

He wants to hear you say it for forever, telling him that you’re his. 

He leans in to kiss your forehead, “Say it again.” 

You think you could pass out, chest still heaving up and down as you come back down from your high, but you would do anything to please him. “‘M yours.” 

Megumi smiles to himself before he pulls out, the sensation pulling a hiss from you as he lets you relax your legs and tries to clean the both of you to the best of his ability, considering the circumstances. 

He helps you slide your panties back on, maneuvers your legs for you so that you can tug on your pants, worried that you’ll get cold fast. 

You let him take charge, too exhausted to even move. Megumi splays across the seat and pulls you into his chest, trying to pull his jacket over the two of you like a blanket. 

“Megumi,” You say sleepily, cheek smushed against the spot where his heart beats. He hums, encouraging you to go on. 

“My name,” You start, “My name is (Y/N).” And, before you let him speak, you turn your head to look up at him with a cheeky little smile. “Does this make us friends, now?” 

He laughs. It’s your favorite sound.

“I hope we can be more than friends.” 

You hum affirmatively and kiss his earlobe before nestling against him, falling asleep.

The days are filled with love and gestures of affection after that night. Megumi is more comfortable now, though sometimes he pinches your side gently whenever you slip up and accidentally call him Dog Boy. He tells you that he demands reparations for your wrongdoings- he specifies that he would like to be paid back in kisses. 

Whenever you call him a sap, he pinches your side again. 

Although the two of you seem to be in your own little world, lost in love, the outer world has not changed. You add another step to your nightly routine, right before you go to sleep; Check the radio. 

Megumi leaves it propped on the dashboard at all times and frequently asks you to try and catch a signal so that the two of you can hear some news. Day after day, you find yourselves unlucky. You’re always greeted by the same crackle and fuzz. 

He’s been thinking hard lately, and you can see it. He’s always a little distracted, late to respond to you, or sometimes not even listening altogether. 

He’s thinking that at this rate, it may be smarter to settle down. To find somewhere to stay, to wait out the situation. Surely, with time, the zombies should die out. This cannot last forever. 

And while you’re splitting the food or reading outdated magazines that he grabbed for you at the store, he’s facing his own little mental battles. He knows that you dream of a better future, with people coming together and starting anew. And he knows that you’re becoming even more hopeful now that you’ve reached North and the camp should be within your sights at any time, but the journey itself is not promising. It’s colder, storms more often, the truck shakes and does not shield you from the cold all that well when the two of you are asleep. Megumi is nearly positive that the best idea, for now, is to settle down somewhere and to at least let the season pass. 

He’s promised himself that he’ll bring it up to you on this particular morning, as the snow kisses the windows and fights against the weak attempts of the windshield wipers. You’re rummaging through a magazine, reading it over for the nth time and trying to fill out one of the crossword puzzles you had previously left empty for times like this. 

“(Y/N),” He starts, mouth dry as he glances at you before looking back at the road. 

“Hm?”

“I’ve been thinking, recently…”

As he pauses to collect what he wants to say, you giggle to yourself. “I know. You always look kind of constipated, you know? You’re not very good at hiding it, Megs.” 

His face flushes red, and the both of you know it’s not from the cold. He appreciates that you’re not upset that he’s been keeping things to himself as of late, but he thinks he could’ve gone without the playful comment. 

“Anyway,” He stresses, though he doesn’t feel so panicky anymore. He strictly keeps his eyes trained in front of him, on the road, following the short, yellow lines that divide it down the middle. 

“I think… think we should settle down. The winter is only going to get harsher, and this truck is so old, I’m not sure how long it’ll last. We can find some place to stay- there’s empty houses everywhere- and we can sit out until the season is over. It’ll be safer that way.” 

His proposition hangs in the air. You’re awfully quiet, and for a second he wonders if you were even listening. 

“Megumi- pull over.” 

“Huh? What?” 

“Just- just stop the truck.” 

He thinks you’re angry, but you don’t sound it. He rushedly puts the truck into park and tries to catch a glimpse of your face, to see how you feel. 

You look focused. You don’t even bother to look at him; you’re looking past him.

He confirms that you probably weren’t even listening to what he said when you ask, “Do you see that? Over there?”

“See what?”

“That… that big white thing, like… look.” You point your finger in the general direction of what you see. 

“(Y/N), everything’s white- it’s snowing-”

You hush him, “No, no. It’s huge...it’s..”

You don’t finish. You’re tired of squinting to try and make out the shape of what you see, so you haul the truck door open and spill out of it clumsily, the snow catching you. Fear, hope, adrenaline, excitement; it swallows you whole and you think you could throw up. You trudge towards the front of the truck, snow pulling on your boots like it’s begging you to stay. 

Megumi follows after you, worried as to why you’re frozen in place, pushing past the clingy snow. Your name catches in his throat before he gets to call out to you. He finally sees what you see, just a few yards away. 

Children. Young, healthy looking children. They’re running around, squealing and throwing snow at each other, little hands covered in gloves and big, puffy jackets slowing down their movements. He sees people calling out to them, ushering them inside big tents- tents.

They’re caked with snow, but positively scattered all over the place. He sees people peeking out, zipping them up, running straight out of them to dive into inches of fresh snow.

You’re rushing back to the truck, feeling weightless as you snag your backpack from the passenger seat and haul it with you as you try to run past Megumi, towards the people. “Hurry, Megumi!” You call, a smile so evident in your voice. 

“I have to show them my calendar!” 

#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #megumi smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

[bratzforchris]

the bratzfornick 141 writing challenge

hi everyone! me and @nicksbestie been looking for new fics to read and so many of you are so talented, so what better way to have new reading material than hosting a little challenge to fuel our delusions 😋

here are the basics for the challenge: pick 1 character, pick 4 story elements, and create 1 fic! more details below!!

the following rules are things you must follow. otherwise, you will be eliminated from this challenge. 

no being rude or hateful to other creators. this includes us, as well as others participating in the challenge.

no copying or plagiarizing ANY work. this includes challenge submissions as well as other stories that have been posted to tumblr/wattpad/etc. if you choose to use one of your works from another platform, please make sure that you have proof it is your own work

no submissions that revolve around anything weird or illegal (abuse, incest, illegal age gaps, highly graphic mental illness, hard drugs, age play, homo/transphobia/racism/abelism/etc, bathroom play, etc) 

5k max word limit. in order for us to be able to thoroughly read all of your submissions, please keep your word count to 5k or less and use paragraph breaks!

when you post your fic, please tag @bratzforchris and @nicksbestie and use the tag #bratzfornick’s 141 writing challenge 

characters (pick 1)

matt sturniolo

chris sturniolo

nick sturniolo

nathan doe

story elements (pick any 4): you may mix and match these to your liking. you are not required to do one from all four categories (for example: two locations, one trope, one genre OR two genres, two tropes, etc)

GENRES: 

Fluff

Smut

Angst

Age regression (not age play. your work must be 100% SFW and innocent to fall into this category)

TROPES:

Friends to lovers

Enemies to lovers

Little x caregiver 

Friends with benefits

Chronically ill x healthy

Mafia x goody two shoes

Academic rivals

Lovers to strangers

Nurse x doctor coworker

Fake dating

Grumpy x sunshine

Royalty x bodyguard

Major character death

Angel x demon

Singer/band member x fan

Arranged marriage

Locations/Settings: 

Alternate universe (AU)

College/university

Concert

Outskirt small town

Big city

The forest/woods

Home

Library/bookstore

Vacation

Haunted/abandoned house

Office

Hospital

Plot Ideas: 

Accidental confession (it slips out when drunk, caught in the heat of the moment, etc)

Revenge (fake dating, sleeping with an ex, etc)

Getting used to a new diagnosis/disability (a doctor who is so used to coaching patients through their new diagnosis that they struggle with theirs, getting used to new dynamics with a partner)

Forced proximity (one bed, locked in a room, etc)

Redemption arc

Taking care of each other (cleaning wounds, cooking, holding the trash can while they’re being sick)

Hiding a big secret

Fight that turns sexy

Language barrier (a Southern partner not understanding Boston slang, an actual language barrier, etc)

Chance encounter

Caught in the rain

Dare 

create 1 fic: please follow the rules, characters, and story elements listed above! as stated before, you do not have to pick from all four story categories, just four total. write as many fics as you’d like for this challenge. 

don’t forget to tag BOTH of us: @bratzforchris and @nicksbestie and use the #bratzfornick’s 141 writing challenge in your submission!

Submissions close May 15th, 2024! Most importantly, have fun! No actual monetary or material prizes will be given out for this challenge→it’s all meant to be fun and creative. Good luck and have fun! We can’t wait to see what you come up with ♡

#bratzfornick's 141 writing challenge #user bratzforchris #user nicksbestie #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo imagine #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #the triplets

[comfortless]

this thought has been running around in my head for weeks and your König hcs are my favorite… so here i go

what icks do you think our König has? ik he may consider himself to fall in the “beggars can’t be choosers” category but i am just so curious… 🤔

FAVORITE?! 💞 you are so correct about the “beggars can’t be choosers” mentality. König is very much aware of how other people tend to view him as some creepy, stupid brute. i think that there is certainly a lot that bothers him, mostly attributed to his past, but none of it is an actual dealbreaker in any sense. you’re likely to be met with a cold shoulder and a bit of trust diminished at most. the majority of his “icks” are just him picking up on red flags. the gross or awkward things are just cute to him!

A very “vapid” approach to interests and such is going to make him concerned. König does not understand trends, or liking something simply because someone else does. He equates keeping up with pop culture and fashion as being similar to the children that tortured him in the past (So: popular kids with popular hobbies). Authenticity is held in high regard here. The stranger and more alienated that you are, the more compatible and similar you two may be in his mind.

This said, König would go feral seeing you in one of those pretty dresses or outfits that are all the rage. Dressing like a cute milkmaid for a picnic date, playing some sweet love song for him that you may have picked off a viral video, etc. He’s not exactly in touch with these things so he’s no proper judge or jury here.

Being too pushy. There’s a fine line there that’s not to be crossed. He much prefers playing the role of a leader rather than being a submissive follower. He’ll boast about being your devotee, worship like a dog at your feet, but he likes to feel in control of the relationship and what goes on within it.

He’ll never tell you directly that yes, his anxiety will be gnawing at his guts if you plead with him to come along with you to a commonly crowded mall, and expects that a simple rejection should suffice. It’s likely he would keep hushed about the fact that your frustrated pleading actually turns him on, too.

Being unnecessarily cruel. The man gets cruelty, he’s paid in abundance for it. But women should be sweet and soft. If you’re talking poorly about another person, using words like “ugly” or a slur of some kind, how are you any better than some bully? It does not matter that the victim can not hear you speaking about them, what matters is that he can. It would send him into a spiral of thinking that each time you two have had an argument, you’re likely cruelly chattering about him to your friends afterward.

Yet… he is very much the type to shoot an inept employee a glare and make demands. He will call his fellow operators all sorts of things when he returns from a mission gone wrong. König is the king of double standards here.

By extension, dogging him/his work/his interests is sure to bother him. König likes to believe that he’s done the work to make himself more pleasing now: trained his body through the military to give himself the stature women seem to drool over, covers what he can of his face when it’s socially acceptable so that others don’t harp on an unpleasant glimpse, even thinks of himself as some sort of chivalrous gentleman (very easy to do so as no one gets a peek at what goes on in his mind). His work, not therapy, is where he gets to blow off steam in a justifiable, honorable way. Sure, he’s got some dorky, juvenile interests, but they’re things that he enjoys.

Talk of previous relationships/sex would immediately make his blood boil! Even if it’s said to assure him that he’s better than a former lover. He’s just very jealous and if he were to be blunt, he would tell you he is addicted to the relationship and doesn’t want to think of anyone else ever having what he does currently. It’s best not to mention any past you may have had unless you care to answer a series of questions. “Were they better in bed?”… “Full name?” … “When did you last see them?”

Ironically, if you already have children, he would absolutely adore the stepdad role. It’s not so much as a challenge, then, only the glee that comes with getting to play savior for more than one person.

Infidelity. Whether in a past relationship or in a current one with him. The thought of you ever cheating on him, emotionally or physically, would tear him apart. Something as simple as a fantasy of wanting two or more men to serve you is filed messily in his brain with this, too. Same with you confessing to finding another man attractive, whether a celebrity, someone entirely fictional, or even some random civilian padding by on the sidewalk. All of that counts as some minute form of infidelity to König. He does not share.

He’s guilty of threesome fantasies, guilty of staring down a woman that he finds attractive… he just doesn’t act on these things, holds his tongue and huffs that he certainly wasn’t looking and would never want to fuck any one other than you. It does not really occur to him that those things are normal, especially in long term relationships.

Bear in mind that this is all from a man who almost entirely lacks shame. He’s comfortable with himself now (somewhat). He has no qualms with chewing the skin around his fingernails when he’s stressed out, picking his nose in front of you, shitting with the bathroom door wide open, or talking with his mouth full when he’s just that engaged in a conversation. I think it’s only fair to include some of the things he does that may be repulsive!

Absolutely clueless when it comes to seeing you cry. He has no idea how to comfort someone properly as he never really had that. His solution seems to be hovering over you and asking a thousand questions or just draping himself over you and letting your arms curl over him for comfort.

Would kiss you with his eyes open. Not his fault that you’re so pretty and he doesn’t want to miss a moment of it. Not always, but once is bad enough.

Would absolutely send you an “I miss you” text the day after your first date. Will also tell you that he’s in love with you the first time you have sex.

Will get hyperfixated on historical weapons and will absolutely purchase some rusted, ancient relic without telling you beforehand. It gets well polished and loved, then displayed on your living room wall.

Loves talking about his kills. He’s proud, because if there’s one thing that he’s good at it’s knowing where to shoot or stab or punch. He knows to hold his tongue about the more grisly details around someone delicate, but more often than not he is prone to slip-ups.

Will use your toothbrush without asking.

Thinks he’s very skilled and very cool because he can trim up any overgrown facial hair with a pocket lighter. It is not cool. There’s a razor and shaving cream right there. He may not burn himself, but it’s not exactly pleasant to have your bathroom smelling of burned hair.

Does not have a lick of fashion knowledge. Plain t-shirts, jeans, combat boots, maybe a belt if he cares to bother with it at most. At the least, when he’s at home, you can expect him to indulge in some nudist fantasy because it’s unlikely he will bother to wear a thing. Maybe socks.

#kö headcanons #this was super fun actually heheh #he can be a little gross as a treat! it is cute…

[gglitch1dd]

Random Glitch Poll cause she can't make decisions for herself like an adult

Hey guys, so I was RANDOMLY scrolling through some of my drafts on my laptop and I stumbled upon the start of a story. It follows the Omegaverse AU where it's basically that reader is a Prima Omega and was supported and endorsed by the Kirishimas basically to marry Eijiro. It takes place in old century like 1700/1800s sorta. And he was essentially courting her and everyone and their mother knew he was going to propose to her.

But then he chooses Katsuki (the bitch he is). So poor Y/N is dejected cause now society starts to turn their back on her because "Oh if a big and powerful Alpha like Eijiro doesn't want her, why should we?" Especially because in this one, Y/N has a sort of chronic illness (tries to push away self projections), and although is pretty healthy otherwise, can get sick often.

Then BOOM! In comes in to save the day, The handsome, Sir Midoriya Izuku, who offers to take her to wife. He just needs a wife in order to take over his father's title and accept the title of Duke, and she needs a husband to keep face and still be part of high society.

Its a win win.

Glitch's problem?

Either one can work for me. With Izuku, we get our beautiful gentleman that turns from stranger to lover. He's gentle and kind, but would kill for us and we get to be at his side as he struggles to assert his place in high society, having been a big strong business man.

With Eijiro, we get to see his family (and his hot daddy). Friends/interested in one another to lovers. Battling romance and societal expectations.

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #alpha kirishima eijiro #alpha kirishima eijirou #alpha midoriya #alpha izuku midoriya #alpha izuku midoriya x reader

[pin-k-ink]

labyrinth // illumi zoldyck

tw ⇢ stalking, obsessive behavior, dub-con, toxic relationship, violence(?), emotional manipulation kinda, implied captivity, porn with plot, unprotected sex, fingering, begging, childhood friends to lovers, illumi being delulu just as every character i write

wc ⇢ 6.8k

a/n: god i am weak for this man

The forest was your home, your little sanctuary. You'd practically grown up there, spending countless hours exploring its lush greenery and hidden trails. It was a place where you could escape from the grueling responsibilities and expectations placed upon you as a young assassin-in-training. And throughout all those years, you had always shared this special place with the only person who truly understood you and allowed you to be yourself: Illumi Zoldyck.

You recalled those early days with Illumi fondly, a time when he wasn't the cold-hearted killing machine he is now. Back then, he had been such a sweetheart, always looking out for you and making sure you were safe and happy. Whenever the two of you ventured deep into the forest and lost track of time, it was Illumi who would gently take your hand and lead you back home before the darkness fully settled in. He was the one who would pluck delicate flowers and weave them into your hair, his deft fingers working with surprising tenderness. And whenever you felt insecure or doubted your own beauty, Illumi was quick to reassure you, his genuine praise and adoration leaving you feeling cherished and loved.

Though he never admitted it out loud back then, to Illumi, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. His actions spoke louder than any words ever could.

Under Illumi's guidance and unwavering support, you flourished, growing into a more confident and capable version of yourself. He brought out the best in you, both as a person and as an assassin. However, looking back, you realized there were signs and hints of the darkness lurking within him that you hadn't fully grasped at the time.

Everything changed when Illumi went missing for nearly a year. His family, always fiercely protective of their own, refused to let you into their estate or divulge any information about his whereabouts. You were left to worry and wonder, your heart heavy with each passing day without any word from your dearest friend.

When Illumi finally returned to the forest, it was as if a stranger stood in his place. Gone was the warmth and affection that once shone in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Instead, his gaze was distant and cold, devoid of the spark that had made him so special to you. In its place was a cool, assessing gaze that seemed to look through you rather than at you. The innocent, carefree boy who used to fill your days with laughter and adventure had vanished, replaced by a hardened, unreadable man.

Despite the drastic change in Illumi's demeanor, you refused to give up on him. You clung to the hope that somewhere deep inside, the old Illumi still existed, buried beneath the layers of emotional detachment and rigorous training. You treated him with the same love and care as before, even though he no longer seemed to reciprocate in the same way.

Training with Illumi became a rarity, and when you finally convinced him to spar with you after months of pleading, it was evident that he was holding back, his movements restrained and calculated. Determined to prove yourself, you pushed harder, your pride fueling your desire to land a solid hit. In response, Illumi swiftly disarmed you, twisting your arm behind your back in a move that left you vulnerable and slightly pained.

The moment a small yelp escaped your lips, Illumi's demeanor shifted. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and suddenly, he was dropping his weapon and spinning you around to face him, his usually impassive face etched with concern. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice holding a trace of the old Illumi you remembered so fondly.

Without waiting for a response, he gathered you into his lap, his fingers gently skimming over your skin as he searched for any signs of injury. When his hand reached your wrist, the one he had twisted moments ago, you couldn't help but hold your breath as he raised it to his lips. With a tenderness that left you breathless, Illumi began to place soft, reverent kisses along your inner wrist, his mouth brushing over your pulse point before trailing over your palm and fingertips.

He paid special attention to each callus and bruise, his lips mapping out a path of worship across your battle-worn skin. It wasn't until you gently pulled your hand away, your face flushed and your heart racing, that he finally stopped.

"What the hell was that?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling slightly as you cradled your hand against your chest. Illumi, seemingly unfazed by the intimate moment, simply handed your weapons back to you and helped you to your feet, his expression once again unreadable.

After that incident, you no longer asked Illumi to train with you. Instead, he began to invite you along on missions, providing you with an escape from the constraints placed upon you by your own family, who still clung to the outdated belief that women had no place on the battlefield.

Illumi became your ticket to freedom, even if he himself remained emotionally distant. He would sneak into your room under the cover of darkness, whisking you away to far-off locations where you could put your skills to the test without fear of reprisal from your family.

The short missions he selected allowed you to return home by morning, and on the days when he had no assignments, Illumi would seek you out in the forest. Though your time together was no longer filled with training, you found solace in his presence as you poured out your heart to him, sharing the mundane details of your life.

As you talked, Illumi would often lay his head in your lap, his dark hair splayed out like a pool of ink against your thighs. You would card your fingers through the silky strands, marveling at how much he had changed and yet, in some ways, remained the same.

"You should grow it out," you murmured one day, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Illumi's eyes flickered open, their intensity catching you off guard as he stared up at you.

"You want me to grow out my hair?" he asked, his voice low and serious, as if your answer held the weight of the world.

"Y-yes?" you stammered, suddenly unsure of yourself under his unwavering gaze.

Months passed, and your routine with Illumi continued. It wasn't until one day, as he lay with his head nestled against your stomach, that you noticed his hair had grown past his shoulders, the ends brushing against your skin like whispers of silk.

"Your hair," you commented softly, your fingers threading through the lengthened strands. "It's gotten so long."

"You told me to grow it out," Illumi replied simply, as if that explained everything. And in a way, perhaps it did.

Along with the changes in his appearance, Illumi developed another habit. Whenever he went on missions without you, he would bring back small tokens – souvenirs of a sort, though they were far from the typical trinkets one might expect.

These mementos ranged from blood-stained lockets to priceless artifacts, each one a macabre reminder of the lives he had taken. Once, he even presented you with a family photograph, the smiling faces of his latest victims staring up at you from the glossy paper.

You had declined that particular offering, and Illumi had disappeared without a word. You worried that you had offended him, only to be startled awake late that night by a scratching sound at your window.

When you investigated, you found Illumi standing outside, a squirming bundle in his arms. He had gone back and kidnapped the family dog, presenting it to you with an air of solemn determination.

Though his actions were often baffling and his demeanor remained inscrutable, you couldn't help but find a certain charm in Illumi's unconventional displays of affection. It was clear that, in his own way, he still cared for you deeply.

But the true depth of your feelings for each other remained unspoken, buried beneath layers of duty and the weight of your shared history.

Then came the day that changed everything. After months of separation, you finally had the chance to see Illumi again, your heart brimming with news that you knew would alter the course of your lives forever.

With a voice that trembled despite your best efforts to keep it steady, you met Illumi's gaze and spoke the words that would shatter the fragile equilibrium you had built together:

"I'm getting married."

The words hung heavy in the air between you, a leaden weight that seemed to steal the very breath from your lungs. For a long moment, Illumi remained perfectly still, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.

"Married?" he repeated, his voice flat and emotionless, betraying none of the turmoil you were sure must be raging beneath the surface. "To whom?"

You swallowed hard, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap. "It's an arranged marriage," you explained, your words tumbling out in a rush. "My family... they've been planning it for months. I only just found out."

Illumi's gaze never wavered, his face an unreadable mask. "I see."

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You longed to reach out to him, to bridge the sudden chasm that seemed to have opened up at your feet, but something held you back.

"Illumi," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I..."

But before you could continue, he was rising to his feet, his movements graceful and fluid despite the tension that radiated from every line of his body.

"Congratulations," he said, his tone clipped and formal. "I'm sure you'll make a lovely bride."

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the forest like a wraith. You sat there for a long time, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite name.

In the days that followed, you threw yourself into the preparations for your wedding, determined to push all thoughts of Illumi from your mind. But even as you selected flowers and tried on gowns, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

It wasn't until the night before your wedding, as you sat alone in your room, staring blankly at your reflection in the mirror, that a familiar figure appeared at your window.

Illumi slipped into your room as silently as a shadow, his dark eyes finding yours in the dim light. For a moment, you simply stared at each other, the weight of all that had been left unsaid hanging heavy in the air between you.

"I have a mission," Illumi said at last, his voice flat and emotionless. "I thought you might want to accompany me, for old times' sake."

You hesitated, your heart torn between the desire to be with him and the knowledge that you had a duty to fulfill. But in the end, the pull of your history together was too strong to resist.

"Alright," you agreed, rising to your feet. "But I need to be back before morning. I can't be late for my own wedding."

Illumi's expression remained impassive, but you thought you caught a flicker of something in his eyes - anger, perhaps, or pain. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and he simply nodded, motioning for you to follow him out into the night.

As you made your way through the darkened streets, a sense of unease began to settle over you. Something about this mission felt different, though you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was.

It wasn't until you arrived at your destination - a small, nondescript apartment building on the outskirts of town - that you realized the truth.

"Illumi," you said slowly, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. "What are we doing here?"

He didn't answer, simply led you up a flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway. When he stopped in front of a door and produced a key from his pocket, you felt a sudden surge of panic.

"Illumi, what is this place?" you demanded, your voice rising in pitch. "What's going on?"

He turned to face you then, his expression as cold and remote as you had ever seen it. "This is your new home," he said simply. "You'll be staying here from now on."

You stared at him in disbelief, your mind reeling as you tried to make sense of his words. "What are you talking about? I can't stay here, I have a wedding to attend. I have a life to get back to."

Illumi's gaze bore into yours, a flicker of something dark and possessive in his eyes. "You don't have to go back," he said, his voice low and intense. "You can stay here, with me. We can be together, like I've always wanted."

A chill ran down your spine as the realization dawned on you. Illumi's feelings for you ran deeper than you had ever imagined, and now, he was trying to keep you here against your will.

"Illumi," you said, your voice trembling. "I care for you so much, but I don't love you. Not in the way you want me to."

For a moment, Illumi's mask slipped, and you caught a glimpse of the pain and desperation that lurked beneath the surface. But just as quickly, his expression hardened, and he took a step towards you.

"You will love me," he said, his voice quiet but filled with a chilling intensity. "In time, you'll see that this is where you belong. With me."

You backed away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Illumi, please, don't do this. Let me go."

But he shook his head, a small, humorless smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I can't do that," he said. "I've waited too long, wanted you for too long. I won't let you go now."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that you were trapped. Illumi had planned this all along, had lured you here under false pretenses so that he could keep you for himself.

As he advanced on you, his dark eyes glittering with a possessive light, you knew that you would have to find a way to escape. Because the man standing before you now was not the Illumi you had known and cared for.

Your mind raced as you tried to think of a way out of this situation. Illumi stood between you and the door, his body language making it clear that he had no intention of letting you leave.

"Illumi, please, think about what you're doing," you pleaded, trying to keep your voice calm and steady. "This isn't right. You can't keep me here against my will."

But Illumi merely shook his head, his expression unwavering. "You'll understand in time," he said, his voice soft but unyielding. "This is for the best. For both of us."

He took a step towards you, and you instinctively backed away, your eyes darting around the room in search of an escape route. But there was nowhere to go, no way out except through the door that Illumi now blocked.

Desperation clawed at your throat as you realized the hopelessness of your situation. You had always thought of Illumi as your friend, someone you could trust and rely on. But now, as he stood before you, his eyes dark with a possessive hunger, you realized just how little you truly knew him.

"If you do this," you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady, "you'll regret it. You'll lose me forever, Illumi. Is that really what you want?"

For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes, a momentary hesitation that gave you a glimmer of hope. But then his jaw tightened, and he shook his head once more.

"I won't lose you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I can't lose you. You're mine, and I won't let anyone else have you."

He reached for you then, his hand closing around your wrist in an iron grip. You struggled against him, but it was no use - he was too strong, too determined.

As he dragged you deeper into the apartment, your heart sank with the realization that there would be no escape, no rescue. Illumi had planned this too well, had made sure that no one would come looking for you until it was too late.

And so, as Illumi pulled you into a small, dimly lit room and pushed you down onto a narrow bed, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, to clear your mind of the panic and fear that threatened to consume you.

As Illumi stood over you, his gaze intense and unwavering, you could sense the turmoil raging within him. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered to the small box on the nearby dresser, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. The Nen needles. A part of him desperately wanted to use them, to ensure that you would never leave his side.

But just as quickly as the thought had crossed his mind, Illumi dismissed it. He knew that you were too familiar with his technique, having learned it alongside him all those years ago. You would detect the needle's presence easily, and any trust that remained between you would be shattered irreparably.

Instead, Illumi sat down on the edge of the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a gentleness that caught you off guard. "I don't want to force you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to choose to stay with me."

Despite the fear and confusion swirling within you, you couldn't help but lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments. When you opened them again, Illumi was watching you intently, his gaze filled with a longing that made your heart ache.

In the days that followed, a strange sort of routine developed between you and Illumi. He would leave early in the mornings, off to attend to his duties as an assassin, but he always made sure to return by nightfall. You spent your days exploring the small apartment, marveling at the care and attention to detail Illumi had put into creating this space for you.

There were bookshelves lined with your favorite novels, a closet filled with clothes tailored to your exact measurements, a room filled with all the souvenirs Illumi brought you, and a kitchen stocked with all of your favorite foods. It was as if Illumi had been studying you for years, memorizing every little detail about you.

At night, he would cook dinner for the two of you, his movements precise and graceful as he navigated the kitchen. You would sit at the counter, watching him work, and for a moment, lost in the domesticity of it all, you could almost forget the circumstances that had brought you here.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself drawn to Illumi in ways you had never expected. He was attentive and gentle, always seeming to know exactly what you needed before you even had to ask. He would hold you close at night, his arms wrapped around you as you drifted off to sleep, and in those moments, you could almost believe that this was where you truly belonged.

But then the morning would come, and reality would come crashing back down around you. You were still a prisoner, still trapped in this apartment with a man who refused to let you go. And no matter how tender his touch or how sweet his words, you knew that you could never truly be happy here.

One night, as you lay in bed beside him, Illumi turned to you, his eyes searching your face in the dim light. "Do you think you could ever love me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. "I don't know," you answered honestly, your voice trembling slightly. "I care for you, Illumi. I always have. But this... this isn't love. This is something else entirely."

Illumi was silent for a long moment, his gaze never leaving yours. When he finally spoke again, his voice was soft and tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache. "I know," he said. "But I can't let you go. I won't."

And with those words, you knew that your fate was sealed. You were bound to Illumi, now and forever, trapped in a twisted love story that could only end in heartbreak. But even as despair threatened to overwhelm you, a small part of you clung to the hope that someday, somehow, you would find a way to break free.

Until then, you would endure. You would survive. And you would never stop fighting for the life you had always dreamed of, even if it meant leaving behind the man who had once been your everything.

You seized your chance on a crisp autumn morning, slipping out of the apartment while Illumi was away on a mission. Your heart raced as you navigated the unfamiliar streets, every shadow and sound making you jump with fear. But beneath the terror was a flicker of hope, a small, stubborn flame that refused to be extinguished.

For days, you ran, never staying in one place for too long. You knew Illumi would be searching for you, his skills as an assassin making him a formidable pursuer. But you were determined to outmaneuver him, to find a way to disappear and start anew.

As the weeks turned into months, you began to breathe a little easier. You found work in a small town, renting a tiny apartment under an assumed name. Slowly, you started to build a life for yourself, one free from the suffocating weight of Illumi's obsession.

But even as you tried to move on, thoughts of Illumi never strayed far from your mind. In quiet moments, you would find yourself wondering where he was, what he was doing. A part of you missed him desperately, longing for the comfort of his embrace and the familiar rhythm of your life together.

You tried to push those feelings aside, to remind yourself of the fear and desperation you had felt in those final days at the apartment. But late at night, when the world was still and silent, you would sometimes allow yourself to imagine a different life, one where Illumi's love for you wasn't tainted by darkness and obsession.

Miles away, Illumi was unraveling. The apartment felt empty and cold without you, every room a reminder of your absence. He spent his days searching for you, his nights poring over maps and surveillance footage, desperate for any clue that might lead him to you.

As the years passed, his obsession only grew. He became a ghost, a shadow of his former self, his every waking moment consumed by the need to find you. His family watched with mild interest, whispering amongst themselves about the toll your disappearance had taken on him.

But Illumi barely noticed them, his mind fixed solely on you. He replayed every moment of your time together, analysing every conversation for hidden meanings, every gesture for signs he might have missed. He cursed himself for not using the Nen needles when he had the chance, for not ensuring that you could never leave his side.

In his darkest moments, he would imagine finding you, dragging you back to the apartment and never letting you go. He would make you understand, he told himself. He would make you see that you belonged with him, that your love for each other was something rare and precious, worth fighting for.

But as more time passed with no sign of you, a small, insidious doubt began to creep into Illumi's mind. What if you truly didn't love him? What if all of his efforts, all of his sacrifices, had been for nothing? The thought was too painful to bear, and so he pushed it aside, burying himself even deeper in his search for you.

It was on a moonless night, as you lay in your bed, that you sensed his presence. Your heart raced as you sat up, your eyes straining to see in the darkness. And there he was, standing in the shadows, his gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that stole your breath.

"Illumi," you whispered, your voice trembling. "How did you find me?"

He moved towards you, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. "I never stopped searching," he said softly, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek. "I couldn't let you go."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments. When you opened them again, Illumi's face was mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

And then, before you could even think to resist, he was kissing you. His lips were soft and insistent, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. For a moment, you lost yourself in the sensation, your body melting against his as years of pent-up longing and desire came rushing to the surface.

But as Illumi's hands began to roam, sliding beneath the thin fabric of your nightgown, a flicker of unease stirred within you. Something about his touch felt different, almost clinical in its precision.

And then, with a sudden, sickening jolt of realization, you understood. The Nen needle. Illumi was trying to use one of his needles on you, to bend your will to his own and ensure that you would never leave his side again.

Panic surged through you, and you wrenched yourself away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. "No," you gasped, backing away from the bed. "I won't let you do this to me."

Illumi's eyes narrowed, his hand still outstretched. "Y/N, please," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I love you. I just want us to be together."

But you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. "This isn't love, Illumi," you said, your voice breaking. "This is obsession. And I won't be a prisoner to it any longer."

With those words, you turned and fled, racing out of the apartment and into the night. You ran blindly, your feet carrying you through the darkened streets, your mind reeling with the horror of what had almost happened.

You didn't know how long you ran, or how far. But when you finally came to a stop, your lungs burning and your legs aching, you found yourself in a place you hadn't seen in years.

The forest. The place where you and Illumi had first met, where you had spent countless hours together as children, exploring and dreaming and falling in love.

The forest was a blur of green and brown as you ran, your feet pounding against the damp earth, your lungs burning with each ragged breath. The trees seemed to close in around you, their branches reaching out like grasping fingers, as if trying to hold you back, to keep you from escaping.

You risked a glance over your shoulder, your heart hammering in your chest. You couldn't see him, but you knew he was there, somewhere in the shadows, tracking your every move. You had always known it would come to this, that he would never let you go, not really.

The leaves rustled overhead, a whisper of sound that made your skin prickle with fear. Was it just the wind, or was it something else, something more sinister? You forced yourself to keep moving, to focus on the path ahead, on the faint promise of safety that lay beyond the trees.

But even as you ran, you could feel his presence, like a weight pressing down on you, a shadow that clung to your every step. He was relentless, unstoppable, a force of nature that would never rest until he had you in his grasp.

You had thought you could outsmart him, that you could outrun your past and start anew. But now, as the forest closed in around you and the sound of his footsteps echoed in your ears, you realized the terrible truth.

He would always be there, lurking in the darkness, waiting for you. And no matter how far you ran, no matter how hard you tried to escape, you would never truly be free.

The snap of a twig behind you made your heart lurch in your chest. You whirled around, your eyes wide with terror, searching the shadows for any sign of movement. But there was nothing, only the endless sea of trees and the suffocating silence of the forest.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm the frantic pounding of your heart. You had to keep going, to push yourself harder, faster. You couldn't let him catch you, couldn't let him drag you back to the life you had fought so hard to escape.

But even as you turned to run again, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was already too late. That no matter what you did, no matter how fast you ran, he would always be right behind you, a shadow that would never let you go.

You pushed yourself harder, your muscles screaming in protest as you tore through the underbrush. Branches whipped at your face, leaving stinging cuts on your cheeks, but you barely felt the pain. All that mattered was getting away, putting as much distance between yourself and him as possible.

But then, in a cruel twist of fate, your foot caught on a gnarled root, sending you sprawling to the ground. You hit the earth hard, the breath knocked from your lungs, your ankle twisting painfully beneath you. You tried to scramble to your feet, but your leg wouldn't support your weight, and you fell back to the ground with a cry of pain.

Fear coursed through your veins like ice water as you heard the sound of footsteps approaching, steady and unhurried. You crawled forward, dragging yourself through the dirt and leaves, desperate to put some distance between yourself and your pursuer. But it was no use.

A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and slender, with long black hair that fell like a curtain around his face. Illumi looked down at you, his expression calm and unreadable, as if he were merely out for a leisurely stroll in the woods.

His voice smooth and cold as silk. "You didn't really think you could run from me, did you?"

You stared up at him, your heart pounding in your throat, your body trembling with a mix of fear and exhaustion. "Illumi," you whispered, your voice barely more than a rasp. "Please, just let me go."

He crouched down beside you, his movements graceful and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. "Now why would I do that?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "You belong to me, Y/N. You always have."

He reached out, his long fingers brushing against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw. You flinched away from his touch, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. He had you trapped, and you both knew it.

"I've been searching for you for so long," Illumi murmured, his eyes boring into yours. "You've led me on quite the chase. But it ends here, Y/N. You're coming back with me, where you belong."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I can't go back. I won't."

Illumi's lips curved into a smile, but there was no warmth in it, no mercy. "You don't have a choice," he said softly. "You never did."

He reached for you then, his hands closing around your arms like steel bands, dragging you to your feet. You struggled against him, but it was like fighting against a wall of stone. He was too strong, too fast, too ruthless.

As he pulled you through the forest, his grip unyielding, you felt a sense of dread settle over you. You knew where he was taking you - back to the Zoldyck estate, back to the life you had fought so hard to escape.

The house loomed before you, a dark, foreboding presence amidst the trees. Illumi dragged you inside, ignoring your protests and pleas for mercy. He pulled you up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence, until you reached his room.

He pushed you inside, locking the door behind him with a soft click. You stumbled, your injured ankle throbbing with pain, and collapsed onto the bed, your chest heaving with exertion and fear.

Illumi stood over you, his eyes glittering with a possessive light. "This is where you belong, Y/N," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. "With me, forever. And I'll make sure you never forget it again."

You closed your eyes, a sob catching in your throat as you realized the hopelessness of your situation. Illumi would never let you go, never allow you to escape the twisted love he had mistaken for devotion.

And as he lowered himself onto the bed on top you, his hands reaching for your wrists once more, you knew that your fate was sealed. You belonged to him, body and soul.

Your fate was sealed. Your freedom was gone. And there was no escape.

The weight of Illumi's body pressed down upon you, pinning you to the soft mattress beneath. His scent enveloped you, a heady mix of cologne and something uniquely him - dangerous, alluring, inescapable. In the dim light of the room, his eyes gleamed with a dark intensity, boring into your very soul.

"Please..."

But Illumi's hands were already on your wrists, his long fingers encircling them like shackles, holding you in place. His lips found yours, demanding and possessive, stealing the very breath from your lungs. You could feel the heat of his skin against your own, the racing of his heart as it beat in tandem with yours.

There was no escaping his love, no denying the depth of his feelings for you. It had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to consume you both.

"I love you," Illumi murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

It was a confession, a plea, a desperate attempt to make you understand. He loved you more than anything, more than anyone. His love was a force of nature, all-encompassing and inescapable, and it would never let you go.

And even as you lay there, trapped beneath him, a part of you understood. Deep down, in a place you had tried so hard to deny, you knew that your own feelings for him ran just as deep.

It wasn't just obsession that bound you together.

It was love.

True, twisted, all-consuming love.

The kind that could never be let go of, the kind that would follow you into the afterlife.

Illumi's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. His touch was gentle now, almost reverent, as if he were handling the most precious thing in the world.

"I love you, too,"

And as Illumi's mouth claimed yours once more, as his hands began to roam over your body with a fevered urgency, you knew that there was no going back. You were his, and he was yours, bound together by a love that defied reason and logic.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the years you had spent running from him, not the life you had tried so hard to build without him. All that existed was the feel of his skin against yours, the heat of his breath mingling with your own, the overwhelming sensation of being loved so completely, so fiercely, that it burned away everything else.

You surrendered to him then, your body arching against his, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The world outside ceased to exist, fading away until there was nothing left but the two of you, lost in a passion that consumed you both.

And so, as Illumi's hands slid beneath your clothes, as his lips traced a burning path down your neck, you gave yourself to him completely. You surrendered to the love that had bound you together, the love that had haunted your every waking moment.

Your heart raced, your breath coming in short gasps as he explored your body with a desperation that matched your own. The last vestiges of your sanity were torn away as Illumi's fingers dipped between your legs, stroking your clit with a skill and precision that left you reeling. He dipped his fingers inside you, his lips sucking another mark onto your collarbone, letting out a soft groan as he feels your tight, velvety walls squeeze around his fingers.

You cried out his name, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His touch was overwhelming, but it wasn't enough. You needed more, needed to feel him, needed him to consume you.

As if reading your mind, Illumi's fingers curled inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your head fell back, and you arched against him, desperate for release. He picked up the pace, sinking his teeth onto your jugular just as begins to drill his fingers into your sopping wet pussy, the soft squelches emanating throughout the room.

Illumi pulled away, and you felt a twinge of disappointment. But it was soon replaced by anticipation as you watched him undress. His body was a thing of beauty, lean and powerful, his skin smooth and flawless. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes slowly traveled lower, fixing on the faint trial of black hair growing beneath his navel, disappearing below the waistband of his pants.

"Illumi," you whispered, reaching out to him. "Please."

He was on you in an instant, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. His hands roamed your body, teasing and tormenting, leaving you aching for more. He moved down, his tongue tracing the curves of your breasts, the hollow of your navel, the juncture of your thighs.

You trembled with desire, your need for him growing with every passing second.

"Illumi, I can't... I can't take it anymore," you gasped, your body on fire.

He rose above you, his dark eyes glittering with passion. He reached down and stroked his cock, and you could see that translucent droplet of precum pearling at the tip.

"Say it again," he growled, his voice husky with desire.

"I can't take it anymore," you repeated, barely able to get the words out.

"You want me," he said, a statement, not a question.

"Yes, yes, I want you."

With a groan, Illumi entered you, filling you completely. You clung to him, your legs wrapping around his hips, your body arching against his.

It was as if you were made for each other, your bodies fitting together perfectly, the friction between you building with every thrust. Your moans mingled, your breath coming in ragged gasps, as you raced toward the peak of pleasure.

Then, as Illumi's hand reached between your bodies to stroke your clit again, the dam finally broke, and you fell over the edge, crying out his name. Your body shook, your muscles tensed, as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Illumi's climax was just as intense, his hips thrusting against yours as he spilled himself inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his body trembling with the force of his release.

In that moment, there was nothing but the two of you, bound together by love and desire. It was everything you had dreamed of and more.

"I love you."

#hxh x reader #hxh #hxh x reader smut #hxh smut #hxh illumi #illumi x reader #illumi smut #illumi x reader smut #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader smut

[theaquamarinearchives]

[ the frontlines ― gepard ] "if only you saw things the way i see things, perhaps this situation would be different." cw. fluff, slightly hurt/comfort, childhood friends to lovers, gepard being naive and not noticing reader's crush, use of y/n, includes an argument // 2.6k words

aquamarine's findings. this was the first time i ever wrote for gepard !! this is a repost from my old blog since i'm moving all my works over onto this blog !!

the snow is less than comforting for the captain of the silvermane guards. GEPARD is no stranger to it though. he is undeniably used to the raw chill of the eternal freeze, his nose flushed a subtle hue of red to match his cheeks. snowflakes catch on his eyelashes and despite his attempts, his teeth still chatter when none of his subordinates are looking.

after all, it'd be awkward for them to see their captain struggling so nonchalantly with the cold, wouldn't it? as a landau, he couldn't bear to even consider the thought of being humiliated like that. he could handle the cold just fine, as long as he kept telling himself that then it'd be the only truth jarilo-vi would know.

except it wouldn't be the only truth. gepard knows that very well when his eyes meet yours over a cup of coffee at the goethe hotel in the administrative district. he's here on behalf of the supreme guardian doubling security for an event but he can't pass up a chance to see his childhood friend, no way.

you're not dumb - you most certainly have never been in his eyes - and you're one of his longest friends, hailing from another noble family in belobog. gepard faintly remembers you tinkering with mechanisms with his older sister as a young child and even more so the secret adventures you'd take lynx on while she was still a toddler - ones you thought nobody knew about. you were fairly convinced you'd been sneaky enough but at that age, lynx couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

you've drank in the way he reacts to the cold so much over the past years, it almost humours you that he's never truly adapted to it. you were born during this eternal freeze and it's all you've ever known but even underneath all his armour and layers, gepard hates it. he spends almost every waking second of his day in the cold, watching snowflakes dance through the air in an alluring dance that mesmerises him when he gets a five minute break from his duties.

"maybe i should buy you a scarf," you chide as you raise the steaming hot mug to your lips, sipping at the liquid that warms your body. gepard notes that your lips have always been soft despite the harsh cold, you've always taken care of them well, "there's enough skin showing on your neck to please a vampire."

gepard scoffs at your words, rolling his eyes as he leans back in the chair nonchalantly. his upper arms rest on the arms of the chair, one of his legs stretched out under the table as he finally relaxes a little; even if it's just for a moment. your presence has always had that effect on him. he's not the captain of the silvermane guards when he's with you - he's just gepard, that's all he'll ever be.

"vampires, really y/n?" the blond's lips pull into a tight line and you can't help but snicker at how serious the middle child of the landau family could be, "i don't need a scarf."

"sure thing, you wouldn't know until christmas..." the look that gepard is glaring in your direction makes your voice trail off, a light giggle escaping your lips as you raise your hands in a surrender, shaking your head. gepard sometimes wonders how the two of you bonded as children. you were much closer to his two sisters; serval would always steal you to show you what she'd been fiddling with when the two of you were tucked away, children's books seated on your laps and woven scarves wrapped around your necks - the very ones you'd been hinting at just now.

even as lynx grew older, you were commonly found red-handed trying to sneak out of belobog together. the two of you would grumble as serval and gepard pinched your ears, tugging you back to the landau family's manor as they scolded you - specifically you though, they were all too familiar with the concept that you was the mastermind behind the adventures.

gepard sometimes wishes he knew what pulled the two of you together like an invisible thread, some kind of magnetic reaction that neither of you could stop. despite the differences and lack of idea why the two of you were friends, you were inseparable; that was until gepard became the captain of the silvermane guards. now it seems that he's more devoted to the supreme guardian than he is to his own family's name.

you knew though. you knew the pull you felt as children was a dumb, silly crush that you never shook off. the sweet young blond toddler who would sit with you at school lunch, clasping his lunchbox with a toothy grin and who noticed you despite the things people whispered, that's exactly who you fell for. except you were almost a hundred percent certain you'd grow out of it.

you didn't.

in fact, it got worse.

and to make matters worse, no matter how much you'd tried to subtly hint to gepard that someone liked him, fawned over him even, he didn't take the hint at all. it was like talking to a brick wall, your words seemingly going into one ear and coming out the other as if his mind was hollow when it came to anything romantic - you were starting to think it was.

what you didn't realise was the seemingly naïve blond harboured feelings, ones he just didn't understand. he'd become a work devoted man - his every waking breath taken in honour of the supreme guardian, his every word uttered in the name of the landau family. gepard didn't have the time of day to ponder on emotions, at least not ones that would create obstacles in his pursuit of safety and peace within belobog's walls.

he was not only a brick wall for you but for himself and he didn't even notice it. you raise the hot mug to your lips again, your eyes trailing out of the nearby window to take in the way snowflakes waltz, their patterns unique and never once the same as the other. sometimes that's how it feels when you look at the souls of belobog. gepard's icy blue eyes follow your gaze even though he's tired of seeing the snow.

"when are you settling down, geppie?" your voice rings out into the awkward silence, harmonic and a gentle melody that gepard wishes would lull him to sleep when he's restless, his lithe body aching from the days spent in his armour like a statue in the harsh cold. he'll toss and turn, unable to rest when his mind tortures him with the thoughts of the guards under his command that he's lost in the past.

the silence is a killer, tearing you apart as you reconsider your sudden question. you was being nosey, you admit and you sounded a lot like a rich aunt wanting to know when he's having kids - this wasn't your intentions but you wanted to know where you stood with your childhood crush. it'd be better to know now rather than later, at least in your eyes.

"settling down isn't necessary y/n," he comments suddenly in response, clearing his throat awkwardly despite the hot flush in his cheeks that he blames on the geomarrow heating system inside the hotel, "i have work to focus on."

a sad smile crosses your face for a mere few seconds and it doesn't go unnoticed by gepard. he doesn't push it but he takes a moment to consider what could possibly have made you ask that question. while he ponders with no clear answer in sight, there's a realisation that hits like a freight train - gepard isn't ever going to give you even a prospect of a chance with him. it's harsh and sudden, clinging to your heart and tearing it apart. you cover up the pain with a sip of your drink, the very one going cold.

there couldn't be a way in the cosmos that gepard hadn't an idea about your crush; not after all these years that you'd be pining for him. the gifts you'd wrapped so neatly, tied with a ribbon bow - effort that you'd never put in for anyone else's gifts - that would end up in his gloved hands every christmas, birthday and numerous other special occasions; special occasions such as his promotion to captain of the silvermane guards.

you'd wrote a letter confession once in your neatest handwriting, presenting it to the maids of the landau family as they giggled unanimously at the shy front of you they'd finally witnessed. unfortunately for you, that time was a dud since in the hurry of the morning you'd wrote aforementioned letter, you'd failed to even sign it off with your name. gepard, in all of his blind sightedness, didn't even recognise your handwriting let alone mention the letter to you.

with a grimace - one that you're unsure if it came from the bitter, cold drink in your mug or the situation at hand, - you realise it's probably best to move on. it feels as if your heart is shattering, crumbling in your very hands as gepard raises his lukewarm mug to his lips, a faint grimace also crossing his face at the temperatures of your drinks now. you could still support gepard the way you are now, as the two kids that used to read children's books together. you'd just never be able to settle for more than that.

the air is thick as the two of you take the distaste for your drinks as a sign to leave, that the brief catch-up was over and the awkward air could fade out. yet gepard can't just leave you on the front steps of the goethe hotel, of course not. to make your breaking heart worse, he's determined to walk you back to your family home - which isn't far, mind you but you still spite him for being so hopeless with feelings.

"i'm being sent back to the frontlines soon," he mentions calmly as his eyelashes catch snowflakes and you're reminded of when you'd stick your tongues out to catch them as kids. you tear your gaze away from him but your brows furrow in concern, "the supreme guardian wants high defences around the fragmentum while it eases away."

"you shouldn't go," you mumble before you can even think about the repercussions of your words. gepard's eyes widen and he looks at you in confusion, "i mean - i'm just scared for you, geppie. it's dangerous out there. why can't you just stay inside the city walls?"

"it's my duty, y/n!" gepard exclaims, his brows knitted together as he pauses walking to turn to you. you'd never argued back against his work before, why did you suddenly care so much? "it's my duty... to abide to the supreme guardian, it always has been - you wouldn't understand-"

"no, maybe i don't but i love you and you don't seem to understand that either!" you blurt out angrily, your fists clenched as tears prick at your eyes. you could cover it as the cold but your emotions are written heavily on your face and gepard pauses, his chapped lips parted in shock as he takes a moment.

you go quiet, short breaths of air gasping from your lips as you try to calm down following the ordeal. you're hurt, torn by gepard's lack of ability to read that after all these years, you'd been the most loyal person to him while he'd been running off being that exact person to the supreme guardian. all you wanted was for him to notice that.

it's almost as if gepard's body and mind have to restart, blinking slowly as he stares at the way your eyes are glittering in the brief glimpse of sunlight peeking from behind dull clouds. his pulse is racing to the point where he can hear his heart beating in his ears, drowning out the idle chatter of people around them that don't seem to quite notice the situation between the children of the two noble families in belobog. gepard's stomach twists and turns and for a moment, he considers whether these are the butterflies that serval and lynx always spoke about with none other than you.

the blond can't bear to see the way tears are threatening to spill down your cheeks a moment longer yet he also can't appear to form the words needed to even remotely convey his feelings or comfort you. so instead, he follows his heart for once. his white gloved hands reach up, cupping your cold cheeks delicately before he presses his lips to yours, pulling you closer without a second thought.

the day that gepard returns to the frontlines arrives sooner than you'd expected. to cope with the absence of your now boyfriend - a term that still makes you giggle like a school kid when you utter it to anybody, - you'd taken to helping out at belobog's very own history and culture museum. you enjoyed it more than you could probably put into words, especially teaching the children small history lessons like you were doing currently.

the hall is bustling but the kids' faces light up with every detail you go over, wide grins on their faces. out of the corner of your eyes, during the middle of a sentence, you caught sight of a familiar head of blond hair approaching from across the hall. your heart speeds up, a hopeless smile on your face as you quickly return to what you was saying to the children.

a small smile etches onto gepard's face as he leans against a nearby wall, listening to your history lesson intently. you're fantastic with kids, always so expressive to help fuel their curiosities and growing excitement and he can't help but remember just how well you would handle lynx when she was just a small child. he folds his arms across his chest, admiring the way your eyes glitter in the warm lamps that light the museum up - a much better sight than the way your eyes glittered a few days ago.

your lesson is soon over, the kids hurriedly following pela as she takes over your next job the moment she catches sight of gepard so casually leaning in the museum with a hopelessly in love smile on his face - one he can't exactly hide anymore whenever he looks at you. you approach with a confused smile, a stack of information papers in your hands.

"aren't you supposed to be at the frontlines right now?" you ask softly, tilting your head as you stand before the tall blond man. gepard shrugs lightly, the most carefree you'd seen him for a long time. that grin on his face grows and it begins to rub off on you too.

"the frontlines can wait, lady bronya heard my reasoning and granted me permission to stay within belobog for a while longer," he muses, blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous look you'd lacked to see from him since you were children, "why? not happy to see me?"

you consider asking what the reasoning was that he'd presented to the supreme guardian, although you knew that bronya was a soft soul underneath that tough guise she settles in for the role of the supreme guardian. you shake the thought of questioning him from your mind, leaning forward to press your lips to his softly. the stack of papers in your hand reaches up to hide your faces during your intimate moment and gepard grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as if he couldn't survive without pulling you closer.

he may have been a few (many) years late but there wasn't a chance in the cosmos that he was going to let you go now - the frontlines could indeed wait.

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#: recorded in the archives #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #hsr x reader #hsr gepard #gepard x reader #gepard fluff

[zabiume]

favourite IH romance tropes they've got in canon?

- sunshine x grump

- character A wants to protect everyone, while character B wants to protect character A

- calling each other by their last name all along + the special feeling of saying the given name for the first time (i think all my favorite anime ships have this one)

- strangers to friends to best friends to lovers // slow burn

- healer/knight

- battle couple

- power of love

- temporary amnesia + power of love (sort of, loosely)

- declaration of protection

- dying declaration of love / unheard declaration of love

- (temporary) character death

- technically not high school sweethearts, but also??? maybe?? maybe college sweethearts? growing up together would be most accurate, i think

- the "met as children, then met later" one

- everyone ships them

- seemingly unrequited // silent suffering // pining

- physical contact during moments of high adrenaline (idk what this one is officially called, but i LOVE a thoughtless body contact moment!)

- tough guy/punk guy softening up around the bubbly girl

- happily ever after // endgame :))

#technically i like everything about ichihime because i like ichihime :) but these were some generic tropes i could think of #ichihime #asks

[the-marshals-wife]

Strangers Like Me (Orm Marius x Reader)

A/N: I love Orm so, so much, and I've wanted to write for him since my major obsession with the first movie back in 2019. The sequel was everything I could have wanted for his character, and now that he's had the perfect open ending to his cinematic story, I finally let the inspiration run wild. This is the longest fic I've ever posted, and I'm proud to say he was the muse that inspired it.

Description: Orm Marius/Ocean Master x Fem!Reader (human), friends to lovers | Warnings: suggestive themes, steaminess at the end, cataclysmic levels of fluff throughout | Setting: after The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 5.8k

Gif credit: user acecroft

Imagine Orm opening up to you about who he truly is, and wanting to be part of your world

If someone had asked you a few months ago where you liked to be most, you wouldn't have said the boardwalk. Now, it'd become your favorite place in the world. Not for the noisy crowds, overpriced deep-fried foods, or vendors overflowing with cheap beachwear and souvenirs for the tourists. Those things you could have done without. That is, until you met Orm. Ever since that fateful day, everything around you had transformed into something new and exciting. Today was no different.

"I can't believe you've never had a corn dog before," you say.

Orm walks alongside you, well into his second serving. "And I can't believe something this abysmal in appearance can taste so good," he replies before taking another bite.

"Seriously, what have you been eating all this time?" you ask, wiping the mustard from the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

He swallows before answering, "Fish, mostly."

He was completely serious, as usual.

"You really love seafood, don't you?"

"Where I'm from, it's just called food," he counters.

Once again, you found yourself wanting to ask where exactly that place was. The last time you inquired yielded little insight. He gave a vague reply to the tune of "somewhere far away" and quickly changed the subject. For a while, you'd assumed he was originally European or something like that. Yet the more time went on, the more difficult it became to believe in that explanation. There must be a reason he did not want to talk about it, and you knew when he was ready, he would probably tell you. Still, you couldn't help but wonder where he had come from, and why he had not showed up sooner.

"So, what did you think of your first corn dog?" you ask instead.

"It was excellent. And I imagine it will not be my last," he says, tossing the stick into a trashcan as you walk by, "I still don't understand the name though, if it's not made of dog."

"Me either, honestly," you laugh as you toss your trash as well, "I'll have to look it up sometime."

"Speaking of, I listened to the singer you told me about."

"You did? What did you think?!" you exclaim, almost bumping into a passerby in your excitement.

"She is quite good, vocally. But I do think Ms. Parton would have more success exposing her rival publicly," he suggests.

"I know you're not talking about Jolene right now," you burst out laughing, covering your mouth.

"Indeed. This Jolene is a siren. She lures men with her wiles, and then goes unpunished because of her beauty," he explains wholeheartedly, holding his arms behind his back.

"Well that's the point of the song. Dolly is calling her out," you remind, "Plus what about her man? Shouldn't he get some of the blame? Falling for Jolene when he's already in a relationship? I mean come on, he's talking about her in his sleep. That's pretty low."

"Indeed, he misses the treasure that is right in front of him because he too has no honor," he expounds, his expression turning thoughtful, "You're right. Ultimately, they're deserving of each other."

"See! I told you," you chuckle victoriously.

Orm shakes his head, "I could not be tempted by such a woman."

"Oh, I don't know. You heard Dolly. Her beauty is 'beyond compare'."

"That is merely a facade," he dismisses, waving his hand, "Besides, I have seen far more beautiful than her."

You're about to inquire about his remark, but then you realize he's looking over at you. You can only hold his attentive gaze a moment before averting your eyes toward your feet, heart fluttering.

The previous moment still hanging heavy in the air, you walk together quietly for a minute before Orm stops in front of a beachwear vendor.

"Now that is amusing," he declares.

You backup a couple of steps to stand alongside him, "What is?"

He points to a pink tee shirt, the image of a mermaid riding on the back of a smiling dolphin printed on the front. "Dolphins are actually quite aggressive. They do not enjoy having riders on their backs. Sharks are much better mounts."

You stare at him, brow furrowed. "And how do you know that exactly?"

"I, uh, saw it on a television program," he stutters, "about taming sea life."

That was a lie if you'd ever heard one, and a strange one no less.

"Uh-huh," you reply unconvinced, walking away.

In silence, you resume your short walk to the end of the dock, Orm trailing close behind you. Once you reach the end, you lean over and rest your arms on the weathered wood railing, and he stands beside you. A few moments pass as you watch the waves crash upon the shore below and breathe in the salt air. It's not long before you feel his gaze on you once again.

He finally speaks, hesitation thick in his voice, "Something...on your mind?"

You smirk to yourself before looking over at him, "I'm just trying to figure you out."

"What do you mean?" he asks, concern visible in his bright eyes.

"I've never met anyone like you before. So much of what you say is a mystery," you remark.

"That is a fair point," he concedes, "I don't wish to vex you. There's just...so much that I don't know how to say."

You stand up straighter, smiling at him softly.

"I didn't mean it as a bad thing. Everyone has parts of themselves that they hide. Parts they don't want anyone else to see. There's nothing wrong with that," you reply, turning towards the ocean, "You don't like talking about your past, and I respect that. I just don't want you to think you have to hide. It's awful feeling like you don't belong, just for being yourself. I wouldn't want that for you."

"That is kind of you to say. Truly." He mirrors your posture on the railing, moving closer to you as a result. "You don't make me want to hide, Y/N. Quite the opposite, actually. I've learned so many things from you these past few weeks, and I have greatly enjoyed your company."

You look back to him, your heart skipping, "So have I."

His gaze softens. "I've also never met anyone like you before. You find joy and purpose in even the smallest of things. It inspires me how gracefully you view the world. And I've known no one whom I've wanted to share it with more."

Everything else around you melted away as you find yourself becoming just as lost in his eyes as you've been in his words.

Before either of you can move an inch closer, the chime of your cellphone cuts through the thick air between you.

Cursing inwardly, you shoot upright, embarrassed, and retrieve it from your pocket. It's an all-caps text from your sister with many exclamation marks, quickly followed by another. The sister you just now realized you forgot needed picked up.

"Oh no. I have to go," you say, frenzied, "My sister's waiting for me. I have to drive her home from her class, I completely forgot!"

"I understand," he nods, touching your arm assuringly, "Do you want me to accompany you back to the lot?"

"I really appreciate it, but I literally have to run. I'm so sorry, Orm," you say, turning to leave.

You make it only a few steps before you hear him call out.

"Y/N!"

Despite the urgency of your escape, you can't help but turn on your heel expectantly.

"Would you meet me tomorrow? Down on the beach, beneath the pier around sunset?"

A grin spreads across your face. "I'll be there!"

♆

It took everything in you not to grin like an idiot the entire drive to pick up your less-than-amused sister. You weren't ready for the brutal interrogation that would surely come if she saw the look you knew was on your face. After apologizing to her profusely and letting her chew you out, as was her sisterly right, her suspicions were already raised.

"You've never looked this happy for me to yell at you," she said, glaring at you.

"I'm just really enjoying my book! I started the sequel I told you about," you defended, flashing a smile even you knew was pretty fake.

"Enough to forget all about me," she rolled her eyes and punched your arm, "You're not telling me something, I know it."

"I'm dying to know if she's really the lost heir to the throne, I heard the reveal is like halfway through," you add, ignoring her last words.

"Mhm," she grumbled, "Fine don't tell me. I'll figure it out, just wait. You can't hide from me."

"The only thing I need to hide from you is my chocolate bars," you argue in a desperate attempt to throw her off the subject.

"I'll find those too," she snickered confidently.

You laughed it off and went back to biting down hard on your lip. It was the only thing you could do not to spill everything to her as she continued to give you the side-eye. Your body was at the steering wheel, but your mind, and your heart, were back on that boardwalk. The final glare she gave you in her driveway was unmissable, but for now, you'd evaded being found out as you made a getaway back to your own apartment.

That night you'd hardly slept, the moment at the end of the dock replaying in your mind over and over well into the morning. Work only made it worse, the monotony making the perfect backdrop to picture what the coming evening would bring. When your shift ended, you couldn't get out of there fast enough to go home and change.

Now, with sunset fast approaching, you were circling the parking lot trying to find a space, and close to bribing someone to move, when a spot finally opened up.

"Someone loves me," you exhale, hurriedly locking your car as you throw your bag over your shoulder.

The words linger in your thoughts. You can't help but blush at the notion, given your current destination, and who was waiting there.

In some ways it seemed like a lifetime since you met Orm, and in others it felt like only yesterday. The memory of that fateful day comes to the front of your thoughts as you start the long trek to the path that cuts through the dunes.

Unlike your fib from last night, you'd actually been desperate to finish the book your coworker had been pestering you about all summer. With only four chapters left, you'd escaped to the boardwalk one sunny Tuesday afternoon, hoping to find a bench, a fresh lemonade, and far less crowds than the weekend so that you could finally finish in peace.

Just as you'd sucked up the last drop of your drink and reached the last handful of pages, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. On a bench across the way from you, you saw a man trying to untangle the most knotted pair of earbuds you'd ever seen in your life. You watched him from behind the top of your book, and suppressed a giggle as he became more animated in frustration. He ran a hand through his blond hair and seemed near to giving up on the whole endeavor. Unable to watch him struggle any longer, you tucked your book beneath your arm, tossed your empty cup in the trash, and started to walk over.

"He did this on purpose," he muttered as you approached.

"I can take a crack at them, if you'd like."

In his fierce concentration, he hadn't noticed you approach. He jumped a bit at your greeting, and squinted up at you, confused.

"Hi. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Would you like some help with those?" you smiled hesitantly, "I just, I couldn't help but notice you were having a hard time with them."

"Well, you are welcome to try," he invited with a sigh, extending them to you, "Although I have seen seaweed less entangled than this."

You took them and sat down beside him, analyzing the knots.

"Earbuds are pretty notorious for getting tangled," you began, pausing to focus a moment, "These, however, look like a sailor used them to practice tying his knots."

"Courtesy of my brother," he said with no small amount of exasperation, "He delights in making things difficult for me."

"As brothers are wont to do."

"Indeed," he conceded.

Untying your own numerous pairs of earbuds over the years had more than prepared you for this moment. You'd made quick work of separating the right and left buds, down to the last few kinks in each.

"You're quite skilled at this," he observed.

"I should probably put it on my resume, huh?" you chuckled as you conquered the final knot.

"I think you might consider it," he laughed as well.

At last, all the tangles were gone.

"There you go," you declared, handing them back, "Good as new."

"Impressive," he remarked, marveling at your handiwork before looking back at you, "Thank you for your assistance."

"You're welcome," you smiled and pointed to the iPod in his lap, "What do you like to listen to, if you don't mind me asking?"

He hesitated, picking it up, "I'm...not actually sure how this device works. Are you familiar with the technology?"

"An iPod?" you laugh, "Yeah, I had one in high school. It's been a while and it wasn't this exact model, but they're all pretty much the same. MP3 players, that is. I had so many songs on mine, I couldn't add any more. Never went anywhere without it. I had to tape it together in senior year because I used it so much."

"Perhaps you could show me how to properly operate it?" he posed, turning towards you more, "My brother sent it to me. He said it contains music inside that I must hear, but I'm at a loss on knowing how to make it play."

You gazed at him bewildered a moment, caught off guard. Never had you met anyone who didn't know how to work an iPod before. But then again, you reminded yourself, not everyone had a chance to own one.

"Sure," you grinned, "I can show you. There's not too much to it, really, once you know the basics."

"Thank you," he replied sincerely, "It's not often that I've met a lady with such kindness, and lightness of fingers."

Heat immediately rushed to your cheeks at his gracious works, and suddenly it was difficult to hold the gaze of his rich blue eyes.

"It's no problem at all," you replied, offering your hand, "I'm Y/N, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Orm Marius, and the pleasure is mine."

Before you could blink, he'd taken your hand, and instead of shaking it, he kissed your knuckles. If he had lingered, perhaps it would have alarmed you. But he did it so quickly, it was like it was second-nature to him. Practiced or not, your head spun nonetheless, and launching into an urgent, flustered spiel about how to power on the iPod was all you could do to keep yourself held together.

You spent the next half an hour showing him everything from the buttons to the way to change the background image on the menus. Before long, you were talking about all of your favorite songs and artists, simultaneously making lists for each that he would have to listen to. Orm listened eagerly to your recommendations, and soon the conversation turned to any and every subject, from foods to places to dreams. You still remember the feeling of the rest of the world fading away as you talked to him, afternoon turning to evening. And the thrill you felt when he asked if he could see you again.

In the almost four months since, every meeting followed much in the same manner as that first day, with introducing Orm to the many things he'd never experienced before, and hours of conversation on the pier or walking along the beach. You'd stolen away to this area as many times as possible to see him, well over a dozen now. Of course your sister was more suspicious than ever after yesterday, but you still weren't ready to reveal where you'd been spending so many evenings, and who you'd spent them with. There was something exhilarating about you and Orm meeting secretly, and you wanted that feeling to last as long as possible.

He had such wonder about the world, like someone who'd not been in it very long. It was one of his oddest qualities, but his curiosity was endearing to you. Despite knowing so little about his past, you'd come to trust him like few others in your life. Whoever he'd been before, and wherever he was from, it seemed he had no intention on going back. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't want him to. There were so many places you wanted to take him further inland, yet he was still hesitant to go far from from the ocean. You'd never gone beyond a couple of blocks from the boardwalk together, but tonight, with the energy of yesterday's encounter fresh in your mind, you'd planned to breech the topic with him.

Now, the sun is sinking lower in the pale orange sky and your pulse quickens with the threat of being late. With all your reminiscing and daydreaming, you'd lost track of the time. You nearly run across the wooden walkway over the dunes and down the broad stairs. As soon as your feet hit the sand, you remove your sandals. Grasping them in one hand and the strap of your bookbag in the other, you take off into the best sprint you can manage. The pier is still a good distance up the beach, and you want to curse out whoever built the access so far away. You run at an angle towards the water, the wetter ground giving you better traction than the loose sand.

Just within the shadow of the great structure, you finally see Orm up ahead, his back turned. Out of breath, you slow your pace and try to catch some of it back before you reach him. Once he's within ear shot you call out to him.

"I'm sorry I left in such a hurry yesterday," you pant.

He spins on his heel. Relief is written all over his face.

"You came. I was afraid you might not," he sighs, walking up to meet you.

"Of course," you exhale, dropping your shoes and brushing away the hair clinging to your forehead, "Why wouldn't I?"

His expression indicates he had not thought of an answer to that question.

"I don't know," he hesitates, "I didn't mean anything by that. I mean, I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't. I did ask you at the last minute."

You can't help but chuckle as he stumbles regretfully all over his words.

"I brought you something," you declare to change the subject, much to his gratitude.

"A gift? For me?"

You can tell by his tone that he is actually baffled. Reaching into your satchel, you retrieve the item. In your outstretched palm, you hold a small snow globe, a miniature skyline of New York City contained inside.

His confused expression leads you to elaborate. "It's called a snow globe," you say, turning it upside down so that the little flakes inside swirl around, "You told me once that you never get to see snow where you're from. Now you can see it whenever you want."

He tentatively takes it, entranced by the miniature flurry.

"That's where I'm from. Well, I grew up there. We moved here when I was sixteen," you add, chuckling, "It's a little bit nicer in person."

Orm looks up at you, visibly touched by the gesture, "It's wonderful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," you smile, "I, hope that I can show you the real thing some day."

"I would like that," he replies with the smallest hint of sadness, pausing to behold it again, "I will treasure this always."

You'd never met anyone who talked like he did. Everything word he spoke was with full conviction. Others might sound pompous or conceited speaking the way he does, but when he said something, you believed he truly meant it.

"I'm glad you like it," you say, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I do, very much," he says, frowning a bit, "I'm only sorry that I have nothing to give you in return."

"That's alright," you dismiss.

"Will you keep it safe for me while we are by the water? I regret that I have no pockets large enough to carry it."

"Absolutely," you say, putting it securely back inside your bag, "I know that feeling all too well."

When you finish with the zipper and lift your head up, you see Orm offering his arm to you. Surprised, and twice as excited, you take it.

As you cross beneath the pier and set off down the beach together, you suppress the urge to glance up at him. You agonize over what to say next, hoping he would speak first. When he did, it only made your heart beat faster.

"Actually, when I said I had nothing to give you, that was not entirely true," he said, clearing his throat before going on, "As much as I enjoy your educating me in foods and traditions I've never tried, I was hoping this evening we might enjoy a treat of a different kind."

Just up ahead, something on the shore comes into view. Your mind races in anticipation, and moments later, you come upon a blue blanket spread out neatly across the sand. A single white rose lies in the middle.

"Oh Orm," you breathe.

"It's not much, but I thought you would like to watch the sunset with at least some level of comfort," he says, a veil of nervousness in his voice.

"It's perfect," you exclaim.

He releases your arm and picks up the rose, presenting it to you.

"For you."

You feel nearly breathless once more as you take the flower and inhale its sweet fragrance.

"It's beautiful," you sigh, "Thank you."

He smiles timidly at your approval. "Shall we?"

"This is amazing," you say, removing your bag and carefully sitting down on the soft blanket.

He follows suit, and you gently place the rose in your lap as he comes to rest close beside you. The glow of the setting sun warms your skin, but it's nothing compared to the warmth in your chest.

You'd never seen him act like this before. He was normally so calm and collected, but now he was almost pure nerves. You work up the courage to glance over at him. He's staring hard ahead, clenching his jaw and rolling a seashell between his fingers. It's slowly becoming clear that you're not the only one who wanted to say something this evening. Normally, you found the rolling of the waves to be one of most soothing sounds in the world. But at this moment, they were far too loud.

You decide you have to break the excruciating silence.

"I've only watched a true beach sunset alone before."

Your voice brings him out from his trance. "I've also been by myself. I'm glad I have someone to share the splendor with."

"Me too."

He smiles weakly, and fixes his stare back on the horizon.

To your disappointment, the silence returns. Before long, everything is bathed in golden light. The sky transforms into rich oranges and reds before your eyes. The beach is surprisingly deserted apart from the seagulls and sand pipers, making it seem all the more that this moment was tailor-made just for the two of you.

Just when you're about to speak again, Orm at last turns towards you.

"I wish I could show you my world, Y/N. It is a realm of beauty, and strength, and light. You belong in such a place."

You feel your cheeks flush as he continues.

"Where I'm from, you can't see the stars at night. But there is a place with magnificent, glowing lights. A cave, filled with luminescence of every color you can imagine. You would absolutely love it."

"That sounds magical." You hang on his every word as you try to picture it.

"My mother used to take me there when I was a boy. I remember my whole hand disappearing inside hers." He smiled at the memory, but it faded as he spoke once more, "We used to go there seeking solace from my father."

Frowning, he throws the seashell towards the water. The sun begins to dissolve into the ocean, but neither of you take notice.

"Did you not get along?" you ask, hoping it was not too personal to do so.

His gaze falls downward again. "That's one way of putting it. Growing up in his shadow was- challenging. He was severe about many things, and against all of the rest. He expected me to become just like him. Demanded it, more like. Yet he was never up to the task of teaching me how. I wanted nothing more than to please him, but as I look back on it now, I'm not sure that I ever did. I was never worthy enough to be his son."

His words make your chest ache. You reach to gently touch his hand on the blanket.

"You are not an unworthy son," you assert, your feelings coming to the surface, "He was an unworthy father. I don't need to have met him to know that. Because I know you, and you are a good man. The most thoughtful, polite, decent man I've ever met."

He stares at you, emotion all over his face. A wistful look shines in his eyes.

"If only I had known you then," he reflects, "Perhaps I would not have gotten so lost in the tides of his storm."

"I wish I had known you too," you agree, more shyly than you'd expected, "But wouldn't have needed me. You already survived it, all on your own. You're stronger than he ever was."

His expression steels.

"Y/N, there is something I must tell you," he says, his tone turning grave, "It will not be easy for you to hear it, but I can't go on without you knowing what I am. I cannot hide it any longer. You deserve to know the truth."

Your heart starts to race quicker than your thoughts at his startling declaration. "What do you mean?"

Without warning, he casts off his jacket and stands up.

"Orm, what are you talking about?"

"Perhaps, it would be better if I showed you," he says, reaching out his hand to you, "I want you to understand. No more secrets."

For just a moment, you look up into his pleading eyes. Then, as if it had even been a choice, you carefully set the rose aside and take his hand. He helps you to your feet and leads you down past the water's edge. The cool water on your feet sends a shiver up your spine. The foam is lapping at your ankles when he stops just in front of you.

"You see that marker?" he points ahead.

The breeze whips your hair into your sight as you fight to push it away. You have to squint to see the outline of the buoy, the red light on top twinkling faintly in the twilight.

"Yes," you hesitate.

"Keep your eye on it," he directs calmly.

With that one instruction, he retreats further into the water, stopping until it is well above his waist. You cross your arms against the chill of sea spray and wait worriedly. He looks up and down the beach, as if to make sure no one is watching. You are still alone. Before you can call out to him, he dives headlong into the waves.

What follows you can only describe as a thunder beneath the water. It looks as if a missile has been launched from where Orm stood, careening toward the marker. Mere seconds later, a blast like a whale spout shoots above the horizon, and the buoy rocks violently as it is landed upon by the figure that flew up out of the sea.

A gasp escapes from your agape mouth as you witness the silhouette wave at you, and proceed to dive back into the blue.

Three pounding heartbeats later, Orm immerges from the surf and walks toward you, slicking back his dripping hair. His tee shirt clings to his muscular form, and his soaked jeans don't seem to encumber him at all. You're frozen in the sand, staring at him with only one word on your parted lips.

"How..."

"There's no simple way to say it, but you must know. I am from the Kingdom of Atlantis," he confesses, struggling to hold your stare, "I am Prince Orm Marius, son of Queen Atlanna. Although I was once ruler, I made many mistakes during my time on the throne for which I was banished. My penance is served by my exile here on the surface. I deserve my fate, and I gladly uphold it, but it is not something I wanted to keep from you any longer. I'm sorry that I was not honest with you sooner, but I didn't think that I could trust any surface-dweller with my secret. I was...proven wrong."

"You're a real Atlantean?" you manage to get out.

"I am," he nods, apprehension still in his voice, "I was raised to hate the surface and its inhabitants, but much has changed. You, Y/N, have had no small part in that."

Despite your reeling head, it's slowly becoming clear what Orm is saying by this grand unveiling of his true identity. As you struggle to process it, however, your silence compels him to go on.

"If all of this is too much, I understand. It is my burden to bear, and you did not ask to be part of it."

"I-It's not that," you stammer as the shock starts to wear off. You step closer to him. "Not at all. It's just a lot to take in. I need a minute, that's all. I promise."

Hope lights up his eyes.

"Absolutely," he agrees eagerly, "I apologize, I know this reveal was sudden. Please ask any questions that you have. I will withhold nothing from you."

As you finally begin look at him instead of through him, only one question lodged in your throat.

"Why?" you ask through threatening tears, "Why did you tell me all this?"

You knew why, because it was the same reason you wanted to tell him all of your own secrets. The same reason you came back to this beach over and over. The same reason your heart skipped every time you saw his handsome face, and heard him speak your name. You just wanted to hear him say it. For any of this to work, you needed to hear it.

His anxious gaze softens as he weighs his answer.

"I meant every word of what I told you yesterday. When I'm with you, I see a future that I never thought I would deserve. You make me feel like I can be more than I've ever been. And for the first time in my life, I have felt true happiness," he says, finding the words along with his conviction, "I never thought I would belong anywhere but Atlantis, but now, I want to know more about this world and its many gifts. And most of all, I want you to be by my side to show it to me."

"I want that too," you respond, tears threatening.

He gently takes your hand in his. "Even after all that I've done, part of me hoped that I might find some kind of redemption here on the surface. I wasn't sure how, and then I met you," he says tearfully, searching your eyes, "Y/N, you gave me that hope. Your goodness, your charity, your beauty. This realm has much to offer, more than I ever dreamed, but you are what I love most about the surface. From that very first day we spoke, I knew that you were what I was meant to find here."

Your vision blurs as he reaches to gently stroke your cheek.

"All of that to say...I've fallen in love with you, Y/N."

A sob escapes your throat as you look into his eyes and see it.

"I fell for you too. From the first day," you nod, finding your own confidence, "Being Atlantean doesn't change that. I don't care about who you've been or what you've done. I want to be with you. I love you too, Orm."

His composure crumbles along with yours as you embrace. The distance between you vanishes as your lips meet in a desperate kiss. You rest your hands on his chest and melt into his touch. He sighs and deepens the kiss, pulling you close against him. You feel the coolness of this still-dripping clothes soak through to your skin as you become lost in the taste of salt and longing. When you're forced to come up for air, you're both beaming.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," he smiles, caressing your face.

"Me too," you giggle, lacing your arms around his neck, "What did you think of your first surface-dweller kiss?"

"Not too bad. I think I'll have to try it again before I decide if I really like it," he smirks.

"Well, if you get me out of this frigid water, I'll see what I can do about that," you tease back.

"Now that I can do," he announces.

You shriek in surprise as he swiftly lifts you from the water and into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all. He chuckles in amusement and carries you bridal style back toward the shore.

"Orm!" you protest, in an obviously half-hearted fashion.

"I have to admit, concealing my Atlantean strength has been considerably more difficult than I anticipated," he reveals, wincing a bit, "I intended to bring a bottle of wine tonight as well, but- the glass here is far weaker than what I'm accustomed to."

You laugh. "Well, it's the thought that counts."

"I'm glad you think so. Because I thought since I'm responsible for us missing the best part of the sunset, that perhaps we could lie under the stars instead?" he suggests, setting you down gently on your feet upon the blanket.

"I would love to," you say, looking up at him, "But aren't you freezing in those clothes?"

"I'm used to it," he shrugs, "I don't think I feel the cold the same as you."

"In that case," you say, pulling him closer into tender kiss, "What do you think about that?"

He grins.

"It was perfect, and I'm certain it will not be my last."

You no longer feel the chill as you cling to him, and he rests his forehead to yours. It didn't matter where the tides of life would take you next. As long as Orm was there to hold you in the waves, you would always be in your favorite place.

#orm marius x reader #orm x reader #ocean master x reader #orm imagine #aquaman and the lost kindgom #patrick wilson #aquaman imagine #orm fanfic #aquaman fanfic #my writing #strangers like me from tarzan is 100% orm-coded and i couldn't resist using it for the title #aquaman