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smutoperator · 27 days

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Bunny Wants Carrot

Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Tags: aegyo, (a little) armpit fucking, breeding kink, costume, couch sex, crazy riding, creampie, daddy kink, deepthroating, easter, high heels, lube, multiple orgasms, object insertion, slippery, sloppy blowjob, squirting, thong

Word count: 5023

Your Easter hasn't really been very enjoyable. Away from home for business in Korea, without your family to celebrate, it just seemed like you were going to have the worst holiday possible. You woke up tired and just wanted to go home as soon as possible, leaving the apartment the company you work for rented for you in Seoul to get some fresh air and leaving the door wide open in the process because you just didn't care anymore about it.

As you returned to it, you found a beautiful, tall, and young girl inside it, placing some little Easter eggs along the furniture and jumping up and down on high heels wearing a skimpy rabbit costume that fully displayed her perfect long legs and her skinny body.

"Who are you?" you asked, baffled by the scene you had just watched, seeing that tall girl bending over and wiggling her bunny "tail" and taking some eggs from her basket to place all over your apartment. Her thong was so small, you could see the lips of her pink pussy popping out of it already.

"I'm Jang Wonyoung, but for today, you can call me Cherry," she replied in perfect English to you, making you wonder how she even knew you spoke the language. "I'm just a young Easter bunny searching for something on this special day," she continued.

"Get out of my..." You couldn't even finish the sentence. "Shhhh," Wonyoung said. "I'm not getting out; you've got something I want," she continued, pushing you forward until she shoved your body into the couch. For such a skinny girl, she was really strong.

"What do you want?" you asked, still confused as Wonyoung got on her knees and ran her hands on your already exposed torso, giving you a kiss shortly after, before moving down and repeating the move on your crotch area. "You know there is that myth that bunnies like carrots," she said. "Well, that's actually true for me. But I like a different kind of carrot," Wonyoung continued. "One that can get hard even on cold days like today, like the one you've got between your legs, daddy," she kept going, pulling your underwear down and unveling your throbbing morning wood.

Wonyoung got wowed by the size of your cock, her eyes getting bright in a snap once she saw it, her face making devilish and naughty expressions already. "Nice carrot you got up there, Daddy. Don't you want to feed it to a needy, hungry bunny like me?" she asked. You were still asleep and confused by what was going on, but on a shitty day like today, you wouldn't say no to a free blowjob by a stranger.

Wonyoung pulled your undies down a bit and grabbed your shaft, giving you a sexy stare. As she just put the tip in her mouth, you already knew you would be in for a long ride, as her little, sloppy spits and warm mouth already had your tip throbbing.

"Damn, that's so good. For how long have you been doing this?" you asked out of curiosity. "Not much, daddy; I'm only 19, but I'm a very quick learner," she said, bragging about her cock-sucking skills. And indeed, you could attest that Wonyoung was a blowjob prodigy at such a young age, as she was already sucking the soul out of your cock with just a few licks.

Wonyoung started running her tongue over your shaft, paying special attention to the tip. You groaned and held your breath, as, despite being a total stranger, she seemed to already know which spots of your dick were the most sensitive. She followed it with a sloppy tip-sucking, putting not even a third of your cock in her mouth and slowly teasing you, increasing the pace as she turned the top third of your shaft wet, later adding her hands to jerk it off. It was truly the loudest blowjob a girl had ever given you, as Wonyoung got noisy every time her throat touched any part of your cock.

Wonyoung fully takes your underwear off, giving you a big smile as she gets on all fours and throats your cock harder, this time going halfway in and increasing the speed of her jerkoffs. You can't resist anymore and start to push up, trying to fuck her doll-esque face. Little do you know, this is the favorite move of everyone who gets to have their cocks inside her mouth, so she's already extremely prepared for it and barely flinches, just tucking her hair a little and closing her eyes as she loves that tip hitting the palate of her mouth.

As a matter of fact, after a while, Wonyoung bobs her head down your cock faster than you can up her mouth. As you make her gag, she gets even crazier, attacking your cock at full speed as her pussy is already dripping wet and she jiggles her little bunny tail. "Ohhhhh. Shitttt," you give an enlongated groan even though she has barely taken your cock deep into her throat yet, moving instead to lick your shaft sideways.

"Oh fuck, I can't take it," you say as soon as Wonyoung gives you the first deepthroat. A little precum flows out of your cock, and you wonder how you just didn't blow your whole load at that point already. You start counting to 10, but once the count reaches zero, you have to reset and do it all over again, as Wonyoung stays with your sword stuck deep in her throat for a good 20 seconds before she finally gags. "Holy shit, it's a magic bunny," you say, praising her insane cock-sucking powers.

You pray to God to rescue you on the day he resurrected, but he won't answer your prayers. You'll be going straight to hell for daring to get your cock sucked by a bunny that came out of nowhere to drain your balls. And the more you pray, the harder Wonyoung moves, craving that long, hard carrot up her mouth as she gets increasingly louder.

"Oh shit," you say as Wonyoung starts kissing and licking your shaft frenetically and gives you a begging stare before going back to attack your tip while twisting your cock with both hands. Your left leg starts to tremble as Wonyoung savors that carrot nonstop. "Hmmm, hmmmm, hmmm," she moans between all that insane sucking of hers.

Wonyoung bounces her ass up and down, perhaps teasing you about something as she now finally takes your cock full length in her mouth. Her pussy lips are already throbbing, as they are right between the strings of her white bunny thong. You dunk Wonyoung's head on your cock, wanting her to deepthroat it forever even as your groans get more frequent and louder. She's truly a master of deepthroating; no matter the size of a cock, it all disappears under her perfect mouth.

"Can I see those titties?" you ask Wonyoung as soon as she finishes the blowjob. "Of course, daddy," she says, pushing the straps of her bunny lingerie to the side and showing her perky little tits. You really enjoy how soft they are and how you can cover them fully on your hands as you grab them by the bottom and lower your head to suck them off, starting with Wonyoung's right boob.

"Whoooa!" Wonyoung moans as you put your mouth on her tits, reaching under her panties to start masturbating herself. That incites your curiosity as you pull her thong to the side to finally see what her perfect pull looks like, with her dangling lips already ready to take your cock inside it. Wonyoung lets out an Aegyo-esque moan as you do it before asking. "How bad do you want to get inside this little pussy, Daddy?" "Very bad," you say as you softly place your hands on it and make Wonyoung feel like she has ascended to the heavens with just that little touch.

"Ahhhh, ahhhh, ohhhh," Wonyoung moans as you two get the perfect chemistry and world fully in sync, your right hand touching her pussy while her right hand still masturbates your cock. She starts moving up and down with her body and closes her eyes, dreaming of sitting on your dick as soon as possible. But first, she has to survive your fingers working all over her wet cunt, turning the floor her high heels step on very slippery and dangerous.

Wonyoung moans get more childish as you increase the pace of fingering her clit, with her responding in the same manner with your cock. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she moans as her pussy keeps squirting all over your hands and her little boobs get bouncier. "Daddy makes this baby bunny cum so good," she says, turning her head and looking back at you as she gives you a kiss.

"Wait, daddy, what are you doing? It's already very slippery down here," Wonyoung says as you pick up a bottle of lube from her egg case and pour most of it on her tits and armpits, then move down and pour the rest of it in her belly and pussy. "Oh, I like that daddy," she said as you started rubbing her tits and getting them shinier before going back down to her pussy and making her squirt further on the floor, which led her to start to bounce out of excitement.

You place your cock between her bra straps and start fucking her clean armpits while also touching her tits as she slaps your cock in them. "Daddy likes those pits and titties?" she asks. "Yes, I do, but I like that pink pussy better; I want you to sit it down that cock, please," you told her.

"Yes, daddy, as you wish, baby bunny will sit in that carrot and ride it as you please," Wonyoung replied, shaking her "tail" as her cunt was already dripping before even going down that cock. "Give me that pussy," you commanded her. "Daddy is really impatient; let baby Bunny work on that cock a little bit more," Wonyoung replied as she still twisted your shaft and prepared it for penetration.

Wonyoung advanced a couple steps and sat on your cock at once, spreading her long legs. "OHHHHHHH MY GODDDDDD," she moaned as your full length impaled her pink pussy, but quickly settled down and started violently bouncing on it. "Fuck, daddy, that big cock is so perfect for my tiny little pussy," she said, moaning louder at each bounce, with no caution whatsoever to wake up your neighbors on this sacred holiday.

You were really impressed at the speed at which Wonyoung rode your cock, and she was doing it in full motion, going all the way up before smashing it all the way back down. "Those young girls are already full-fledged sluts by the time they turn 18, aren't they?" you thought to yourself, and yes, that was definitely the case with Wonyoung, as she kept giving you aegyo-esque moans each time she finished a bouncing move on that big dick.

"I'm a baddie for Daddy, ah, ah, ah, ah, ummmmmm," Wonyoung said between more moans as she kept smashing your cock nonstop; her appetite just seemed endless. One carrot was just not enough for that hungry bunny, but she would take it regardless.

Wonyoung started rotating on your cock, adding even more pressure as her vaginal walls smashed your shaft from all angles. You quickly found yourself regretting your words. If Wonyoung's blowjob was already tough to handle, her riding was 10 times harder to resist, as her pussy was extremely tight and wet, and she knew how to use it even better.

Wonyoung just twisted your cock like a little toy, gyrating on it while bouncing mid-air. At that point, you had already outlasted most men when they got inside her, as 95% of them were done after just a minute. Once she stopped, she sat on your cock so hard that it felt like you were being smashed by the sun's gravity.

It was amazing the way her tight pussy was stretched out exactly to the size of your girth, no air going on it, the only thing filling it up being your cock and her juices. Wonyoung rode you so hard that she went too high in the air, which led to your cock popping out. To make up for that mistake, she descended down it as soon as possible and engulfed your sword balls deep back in her cunt, holding them inside her in that position for a good minute before resuming her crazy ride.

The string on Wonyoung's thong hit your shaft right by the side, increasing the friction on your cock. Wonyoung laughs as she tilts her body sideways and keeps bouncing, ripping your cock apart like it's nothing. She goes so fast that that her bunny ears fall off her head, forcing her to put it back on, giving you the opportunity you needed to push her close and pump up her pussy. Too bad you get too thristy and your cock ends up sliding out of her hole, allowing Wonyoung to recover and just get back to her usual insane riding, clapping her cheeks even harder each time she descends down that dick.

"YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. YEAH," Wonyoung says in perfect sync every time her pussy reaches the bottom of your shaft, doing this for a couple minutes before you make her stop. "Shhh, you're getting too loud," you tell her. "Sorry, daddy, your cock is too good; I want it all," she replies as you push up her pussy and she places her hands in her ass.

"Fuck, you're such a loud, bouncy bunny," you tell her as Wonyoung now rides you with her high heels stomping the floor, causing an earthquake in the neighbor's apartment below yours. Wonyoung tries to mitigate the noise while still riding by putting her long legs up and placing her heels on your couch, but that ends up being too much for them, as her heels end up breaking after such an intense ride, forcing her to remove them, as much as she always wants the heels to stay on during sex.

You push Wonyoung's thong even further to the side as she takes her broken high heels off, pointing your fully erected cock right at her cunt entrance for her to sit again. Wonyoung does so, but this time in reverse, fully spreading her legs and moving sideways as soon as she reaches the bottom of your shaft. Your hands reach up top and grab her perky tits from behind. "Fuck, those tits are so soft and that pussy so tight," you tell her. "Glad you like it, daddy," she replies as she goes back to smashing your cock, closing her eyes as she gets impaled even harder than during the first time.

Wonyoung keeps trying to find ways to give her bounce and extra spice, tilting her body in any way possible to let your cock reach new places inside her walls, leading to a lot of pleasure for herself. "Fuck," you groan as she starts doing such things, finally reaching her G-spot as she tilts your cock slightly towards the left side of her pussy and rotates on it to let it hit in different ways. Wonyoung then puts both hands on her little bouncy tits and adds lube all over her body, making it extremely slippery.

"AHHHH. AHHHHH. FUCK ME, DADDY," she says as she gets close to cum and loses control of her tits, then moves to her right side and sits on your cock completely sideways, which leads to her finally unlocking her orgasm as her bunny ears fall off once again.

"Wiggle that tail for me," you tell her as she cums all over your cock, taking advantage of her weakness as she just finished cumming to pound Wonyoung hard, making her already sensitve pussy ache even further. "DADDY, DON'T STOP, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM AGAIN, AHHHHH!" she screams as her eyes roll and lots of squirt come out of her pussy.

Without even pulling out, you push Wonyoung closer to the couch, putting her in a spooning position, pumping and fingering her pussy at the same time while her right leg stays fully up in the air. You pull out a couple times to tease her throbbing clit with your shaft before going back in harder each time. "OH FUCK, KEEP GOING, DADDY," she screams, even as if she's this close to falling out of the couch.

But Wonyoung is no pushover and starts riding your cock even in a submissive position, like spooning, moving her body sideways up and down it, then teasing your cock with her well-polished nails once it slips out of her cunt, giving it a little massage with her hands, and pressing it against her entrance.

"Just like that, daddy," Wonyoung tells you in an out-of-breath way as you resume fucking her, massaging your balls as you go in and out of her pussy. "Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh," she softly moans as her thumb presses your sack hard. "Right there, right there, right there; don't stop, Daddy," she keeps guiding you. "FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM." Hearing those words leads you to go feral on her cunt, increasing the pace by a lot as you make Wonyoung orgasm for the third time in less than five minutes.

"I'M CUMMING. FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" Wonyoung screams as her body collapses on top of yours; her legs trembling can barely secure her from falling to the floor. You tell her not to be so loud, but it's useless. When she cums, she lets it all out, screaming and laughing as her legs now shake even harder.

You get up as Wonyoung gets on her knees to taste her cherry-flavored pussy out of your cock, grabbing it hard at the bottom and starting from the tip like usual, before licking the whole extension and taking it deep in her throat. "Fuck yes, this is so amazing," you tell her.

"Turn around, please," you tell Wonyoung. "Yes, daddy," she says, still wanting to taste more of that cock. She jiggles her ass and puts her bunny tail back in place while still keeping her pussy lips fully visible. You grab Wonyoung by her little tail and pour lube all over her butt, which makes her moan in anticipation, especially as the cold liquid drips down her legs. You spread it all over her cute butt as her holes wink, waiting for more.

"Shake that ass you slutty bunny," you tell her. Wonyoung obviously obliges; nothing she loves more than a little shake. "Shit, that pussy is so pretty," you tell her as she shows it to you while shaking and you massage her ass. "If it's so pretty, how about you put that big cock back in it, Daddy?" she asks.

"Get up on the couch," you softly tell her. Wonyoung follows. "Fuck, you've got some great legs," you praise her as she gets on all fours and turns her butt in your direction. You then tease your cock all over her entrance, pulling her tiny thong to the side and making her moan as your tip touches her needy folds, showing how much she wants it. But you keep teasing her, rubbing your shaft all over her pussy and anus, before sticking it back inside her warm cunt.

"Yeah, baby, please, daddy, give it to me," she says as you enter back inside her, and Wonyoung gives you a cute aegyo that drives you crazy. You fuck her pussy slowly, going a little deeper at each thrust before pushing your cock all the way out. You repeat it for a couple minutes, getting Wonyoung even warmer for your big cock, but as soon as you fully remove her thong, you go all-in at her pussy, showing no mercy for this teen fuckdoll.

Wonyoung starts swinging her hips in your direction as you pound her. "Oh my gosh, daddy, you're fucking this baby bunny so hard," she says. "You want it harder?" you rhetorically ask her as you hammer her wet pussy. "Yes, daddy, please, yeash, ah, ah, ah," she says as she swings all the way into your crotch before you grab her tiny waist and put her in the right place. "Then take it," you tell her as you take control of her and smash her pussy.

The clapping sound of your balls against her cunt makes Wonyoung even needier. She loves that big carrot stretching her out to the fullest, biting her own hand not to cum again as you repeatedly hit her cervix and make her eyes roll. Her facial expressions get increasingly crazy as she sticks her tongue out and licks the eggs on the basket she was once carrying, throwing them out to distract herself from the hard pounding she was taking deep in her pussy and maniacally laughing as she once again pushes her hips down to take more of that cock.

At this point, you just stopped and appreciated Wonyoung's wilingness to get that big cock as deep in her pussy as she could, letting her take control and attack your carrot as she pleased, like the hungry bunny she was. "This baddie needs daddy's cock, ahhhhhh, yeahhhh," she said in her aegyo voice, moving up and down your shaft, giving you a lot of pleasure as her walls hit it from the side.

Once Wonyoung stopped, you went even more feral. The longer you fucked her, the more you needed that tight young pussy. It had been a long time since you had fucked such a great pussy like Wonyoung's. In fact, it was probably the best cunt you had ever fucked. "Keep going, daddy; I'm a needy bunny; I want that carrot buried deep inside me," she told you, driving you even more insane and leading you to lift her leg, which made her instantly moan in pleasure. "Oh yeah, just like that, Daddy," she said.

You added extra pleasure to Wonyoung as you started fingering her pussy shortly after putting her legs up in the air. This was a moment when she was glad she was skinny because her whole weight was now on her knees. She had to hold herself while your cock and hands stimulated her to the fullest. "Oh my gosh, fuck," she squealed as you kept pumping her tight pussy and increased the speed of your fingering, forcing her to hug her own right leg just not to lose balance.

"Give that cock back to me, give that cock back to me, please, daddy, I need it," she said as you teased her, pulling it out and then going in and out of her pussy with long, deep thrusts. But even in such an acrobatic position, she could still push her body closer to yours and ride your cock sideways like the good young whore she was.

"AHHHHHHH!" Wonyoung screamed as you destroyed her tight fuckhole, rolling her eyes as you showed her no mercy. The more she kept showing you how much of a cock-crazed slut she was, the harder you fucked her. "RIGHT THERE. RIGHT THERE. RIGHT THERE, DADDY," she kept yelling as you made her little tits bounce and her lose her breath until she couldn't hold herself by just one knee anymore.

Wonyoung got herself in a fetal position as you started eating her wet pussy next, placing a pair of Easter eggs in her legs. You picked one as well and started massaging her vagina with it after spitting all over her pussy. "Put it inside me, daddy," she ordered as you gave her some shallow thrusts with the little egg, using it like a sex toy, while she held another one in her mouth to muffle her moans. You slowly inserted the egg in her cunt, making her moan a lot as she brought the one in her mouth close to yours.

You kept fucking Wonyoung with that little egg before fully pushing it deep into her pussy. Wonyoung followed suit and inserted the one she had in her hands too, handing you another egg she had just kissed for you to use to rub her clit, before pushing the ones she had inside her pussy and using a different pair to massage her clit. "You want to give this bunny some babies for me to push like that, daddy?" she asked you, licking her chops and tasting her pussy from the eggs.

"Yes, I do," you said as you got back to teasing her with your throbbing cock. Wonyoung hugged her legs and stayed in a fetal position as you put your carrot back in her babyhole. "Fuck," she cursed as soon as you penetrated her. "Oh daddy, oh daddy, please breed this baby bunny, daddy," she told you, giving you naughty and needy stares and rolling her eyes as she was now just a bystander to your cock stuffing her tight cunt.

Wonyoung licked her chops and waited as you patiently worked to fill her up as much as you could. "Oh yes, oh yes, daddy," she moaned as her walls started to clench more than ever. "It's so fucking tight," you noticed. Wonyoung clinged to your arms, as all you could think of was to flood her pussy with your cum at any moment. You had to edge yourself a lot, as she soon turned herself into a moaning mess.

"That's right, daddy, keep going," she said in between some laughs. You had to pull out, as her reactions nearly made you cum right there. But you needed more of that tight pussy, going back in as soon as you recovered. Wonyoung kept laughing, moaning, and fingering her clit, as the longer you fucked her, the tighter her pussy was getting. She even brought back the egg she used to massage before and now rubbed it on your shaft, testing you even further.

Wonyoung's walls were clenching so hard that you had to make triple the initial effort just to get halfway inside her pussy. You had to pull out once again and rub your shaft against her tight hole, having to spit on it just to get your cock back inside her.

"Please, daddy, cum inside my pussy," her childlike voice demanded of you. Getting inside her cunt now felt like your cock was being sucked into a blackhole where demons were devouring it. "Why is this shit so tight?" you pondered as Wonyoung's pussy offered increased resistance to your thrusts. To make things worse, she kept teasing your throbbing cock with that egg, making it pulsate every time she ran it up and down your shaft.

You had to push extremely hard to get back deep inside Wonyoung's pussy, but you finally got there. Now, no air would go inside that hole, just cock and nothing else, as she incessively fingered her clit in pleasure. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she moaned. Every thrust now felt like hitting a hard wall, almost as if her pussy was made of steel, but you kept pushing nonetheless.

Wonyoung kept teasing you, removing the bunny ears from her costume and placing them just around the area where you were fucking her and teasing you with it. "Keep going, daddy; look at those gates," she said, pointing to the "portal" her bunny ears were forming around her pussy. "These are the gates of heaven; all you need to do is breed this needy baby bunny," she continued.

As Wonyoung said those words, you finally managed to break her pussy's resistance and hit it balls deep. Your lengthy cock was now fully bulging under her tall, skinny body as she placed her bunny ears back in her head and closed her eyes in preparation for her imminent orgasm, increasing her fingering.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, I'm going to cum again, daddy," she says, placing her thumb in her mouth and putting her legs over her head. As you pull out to give her the final pounding, Wonyoung gets even needier. "I want it back. I want it back. Please, Daddy," she says, screaming as you pound her hard.

"It feels so good; it feels so good; don't stop, daddy," Wonyoung keeps saying as she gets naughtier and naugthier. "OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM," she yells, fastly fingering her clit and starting to orgasm, her legs trembling, her wals closing, and her mouth opening. She starts screaming hard, waking up the entire building that Easter morning. That ends up being too much for you, as you fill her pussy to the brim with your seed shortly after, groaning as hard as she screamed.

"Holy shit, look at all that cum; daddy bred baby bunny so good," she says, looking at the cum leaking out of her pussy. Wonyoung uses her bunny tail to scoop it and taste it as you tease her, getting your still hard cock in and out of her pussy a couple times. "Daddy still wants more of that pussy?" she asked. "But you already came all over it," she laughed.

Wonyoung got up: "I have to go, but here's one last gift. Happy Easter, Daddy," she said, gaping her tiny asshole and releasing a trio of mini Easter eggs from it. "Thanks for breeding me, Daddy," she said, jumping like a bunny as she left your apartment. That whole thing didn't feel real; maybe you were just dreaming this whole time.

The next day followed, and you went out to work. A pretty, tall woman seemed to chase you; her beautiful face was plastered all over many ads around Seoul. She looked very similar to the girl that appeared out of nowhere in your apartment yesterday, prompting you to ask someone.

"Hey, what's the name of that girl in the ad?" you asked.

"She's Jang Wonyoung; she's quite a famous idol in Korea," the person replied.

You just couldn't believe it.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #izone smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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eightmakesonebraincell · 4 days

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ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)

read hyung line here

genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)

length: 14.4k

c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression

a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍

taglist: at the end

san

pov: you run away with san and the cromer

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood

you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent

you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave

“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”

your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”

“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”

you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument

only to find that he’s not there

he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot

even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face

approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”

at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours

he looks terrified

san is lost in a distorted warp of visions

he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing

but there is blood

there’s so much blood

it’s everywhere

you’re there

it’s your blood

there’s someone screaming; raw with despair

he’s screaming

the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying

you’re going to die

“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw

and san has to stop you from dying

his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings

he looks around with increasing franticness

he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew

water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell

all his senses scream the same thing to him

it’s just like when you died

his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”

your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him

there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly

you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead

when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours

and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave

the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it

your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch

he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby

your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier

you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew

instead, you give his hand a squeeze

san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt

his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze

he’s mouthing something, you realise

do you trust me?

you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance

with my life

the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”

you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder

the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead

you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening

there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing

the cromer

as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet

quietly, he helps you up to your feet

the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response

you trust san with your life

so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today

and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch

you both make a run for it

when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun

san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”

together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave

few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand

you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight

“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”

he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it

the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery

only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on

you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different

it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you

you turn to look at him

“san, what exactly is going on?”

he’s quiet

he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?

letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”

you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before

“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”

he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”

“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his

you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips

“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”

when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes

“why did you bring the cromer?”

if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you

but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take

taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions

san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”

“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”

he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you

“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”

without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”

“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”

at his words, you soften

because san didn’t just see you die

he lived through seeing you die

you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms

“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”

san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”

you shake your head with your own watery smile

“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”

“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck

you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”

“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”

he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too

except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks

hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest

“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his

he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince

it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm

the glow of the cromer pulses

“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head

he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you

“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips

there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together

your world goes white

the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest

san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt

and your hand…

there’s no cut

your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm

san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him

“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet

“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug

the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer

in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt

you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention

you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon

“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”

you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again

with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass

somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier

when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further

he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”

that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels

neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold

only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies

because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life

at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble

san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own

you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible

lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap

you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut

“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”

san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his

the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin

goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you

“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”

his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in

because if it really is the same cut, then that means-

san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain

your world turns black.

there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness

you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you

you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes

“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”

his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice

“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”

you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”

san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you

you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head

you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter

a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound

that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold

you’re in a cell

the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls

damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know

you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark

they squat in front of your bars

the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two

“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious

at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers

the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”

almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth

“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out

daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”

he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars

“now give it to me,” he demands

san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer

he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand

as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it

except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion

you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement

the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move

but so do you

this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body

the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do

from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest

san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow

but there is so much blood

it’s everywhere

the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying

and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought

did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?

or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?

the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything

“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s

he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”

your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”

“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”

he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

mingi

pov: you're the crew's surgeon

you have all the time in the world to yourself

the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies

hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates

it’ll take about a week to arrive

and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties

which is a good thing, really

but it also means that you have a lot of time

and time is your worst enemy

time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths

you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on

you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood

because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it

step one, rinse the area with clean water

step two, disinfect the wound

step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin

step four, suture as required for nastier injuries

step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten

there’s a procedure and it makes sense

but when it’s invisible, what do you do?

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself

the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin

it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate

you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist

and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice

it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain

that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-

only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you

“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head

you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued

with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you

he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant

“can you carve me another dolphin?”

months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair

most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one

you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable

“i already made you one,” you start

but he protests, “i lost him!”

you blink

nevermind. maybe not so valuable

“...you lost it?”

you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void

“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”

you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes

“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent

he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand

“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”

mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use

“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it

you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away

you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t

he stays and asks you question after question about the carving

which part are you working on now?

how do you shape the tail?

what was the first thing you tried to carve?

if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?

and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening

…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat

it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts

and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock

he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures

he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin

but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden

mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow

he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side

what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side

and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals

but that’s tomorrow

for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore

because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers

you don’t have another bad day that week

technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad

but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor

of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured

you’re not even sad

you’re just…hollow

and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way

being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town

their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you

instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern

you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals

it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either

“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”

you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction

“lookout duties,” you simply say

but mingi calls your bluff

“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”

when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet

“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”

he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason

when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself

he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”

“since when did you like seafood?”

“always?”

mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide

he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side

almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual

you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area

when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster

“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh

you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew

he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself

and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate

…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you

“eat,” he encourages

mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you

but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite

it tastes good

shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning

by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating

mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite

the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you

and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky

because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands

the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked

the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean

you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind

your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side

no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you

you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do

it’s hard for you to talk today

but he already knows that

“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you

without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk

“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”

he has told you this story before

more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised

mingi knows he’s told you this story before

but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind

(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)

you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story

you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds

except you can’t

it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth

and mingi knows

but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen

and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you

some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way

because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay

after all…mingi’s been there before, too

the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume

the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol

someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around

the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs

where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay

and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music

his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful

mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved

he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover

you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment

and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day

because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them

maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you

when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love

not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no

but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

but you have mingi and he is making one for you

it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy

and even if it takes forever?

well

mingi’s got a huge fucking heart

and it’s all yours

wooyoung

pov: you find a stowaway on your ship

“we’re headed off course again”

“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows

yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”

you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point

a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands

so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself

but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it

not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea

“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck

although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously

“you trust that person?”

yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”

well

considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him

yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”

you close your eyes and exhale

admittedly, yunho has a point

and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck

you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck

“stowaway”

yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof

said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness

the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back

but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free

the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps

you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''

despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin

“of course, captain!”

you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him

but he’s not giving it to you

you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder

seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”

you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman

“keep me updated on the ship’s course”

yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway

“and thanks…wooyoung.”

you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you

because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him

except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it

it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass

his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route

honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling

at least that’s what you tell yourself

you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar

wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board

you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients

also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud

and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack

he attacks your heart with his cooking

granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef

he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire

mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight

the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together

you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising

“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”

wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle

realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up

there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”

“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument

but it’s him who comes to your defence

“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists

then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you

you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck

…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything

you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile

you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants

and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation

wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now

when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake

“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”

hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”

you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away

“what about you?” you end up offering

wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”

to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response

the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together

you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen

your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing

the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale

“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow

you note the use of past tense

“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively

he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”

“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out

he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”

in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his

your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”

he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes

“have you also lost somebody?”

you nod at his question

“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”

wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”

there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight

he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief

you smile wistfully and he returns it

“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke

wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too

“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans

“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”

wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”

“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”

he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”

“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands

you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”

“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile

he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together

just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly

your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word

“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”

wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse

as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter

the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods

even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less

there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table

you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know

the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach

you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table

a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them

like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself

you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”

with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off

but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”

unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”

a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on

“true north”

her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time

she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did

wooyoung hurries to catch up to you

as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”

“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”

wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”

he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both

“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”

when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy

it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way

immediately, your hackles are raised

the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”

“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”

hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”

your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”

“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”

sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”

“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”

those two words again

you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…

suddenly, you remember.

legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person

a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters

he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements

the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long

human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing

however, this does not go unpunished

the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-

your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend

wooyoung interrupts

“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”

you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”

at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”

“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”

your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”

“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”

as were your parents by extension of the consequences

“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself

one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”

without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him

“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”

because you see it

the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life

wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else

you step in front of him, knife raised in protection

because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart

“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him

there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”

“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”

you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight

because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you

tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying

the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet

you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both

and indeed they are

they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern

hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough

now.

as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction

your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you

because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you

each other’s true north

jongho

pov: you're a mermaid who saves him

you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters

you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms

there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking

and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects

besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather

you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation

you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale

there’s someone standing there waiting

his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth

the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists

you are at his complete mercy

he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word

“please”

immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net

there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered

“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth

there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger

he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste

but even then, he does not stop or falter

and then you hear it

the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net

you plummet into the ocean

and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall

jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him

he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision

overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further

he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again

he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast

one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes

it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea

he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free

except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips

by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch

he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones

instead, he plummets into the ocean

and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail

your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance

for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon

but then you see it - see him

apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before

and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home

there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting

it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence

you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water

as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean

in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels

and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings

you gingerly swim closer

when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips

you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy

and so you swim.

the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath

he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions

the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears

when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-

and bearings

the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing

there was the storm

the tangled sail

him climbing up the riggings

falling down, down, down

and then…

you

your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him

instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you

but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere

it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again

he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour

but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles

he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove

you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something

he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern

it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters

the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland

you wait, trying to gauge his actions

but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore

you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get

and then you see it

a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells

a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like

you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation

jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove

he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust

but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand

…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen

he tries not to feel disappointed

after all, you have no reason to trust him

so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat

when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state

but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer

gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells

in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle

a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need

jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face

you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning

you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human

how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?

their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control

quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…

and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike

it’s ironic

no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom

side by side

jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs

he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you

so he resorts to using his bare hands

you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something

you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach

for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all

so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him

jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away

he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once

he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness

“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”

your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles

you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops

if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling

you want to hear it again

jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands

he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth

the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it

he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time

he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish

so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”

are mermaids technically fish?

did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?

before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod

jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet

as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him

whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body

but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so

and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display

your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements

he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you

jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you

and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice

“why are you staring?”

your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour

his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind

“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”

for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter

a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you

together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air

his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night

but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…

until it’s too late

you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove

it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side

you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know

you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it

except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock

it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater

so then, why?

you look down and your heart drops

tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus

you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water

your scales have started to lose their shimmer

jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes

(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)

“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in

you uncurl your fingers with a shrug

“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”

you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”

jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down

“you run it through your hair to untangle it”

he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face

“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers

just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once

when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you

you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck

he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair

his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot

his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before

you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body

“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”

he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better

you try to formulate an answer, “i…”

i think i’m in love with you

of course, you would never tell him that

but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist

a scar

“is that- how did you get this?”

you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger

as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly

“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”

your gaze is unfocused as you process the information

the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail

because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time

years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense

you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again

but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to

they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled

and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho

“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic

you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body

yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified

your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving

“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response

you can’t- won’t die in front of him

your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms

jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-

“don’t!” you bark out sharply

he freezes in shock

you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…

you could never yell at jongho

with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”

and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water

except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens

you. cannot. breathe.

you’re drowning.

jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone

his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise

he dives into the water after you

the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense

jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you

your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching

he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest

you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth

jongho will not let you die

lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours

a kiss of life-

he closes his eyes

-and love

but you don’t respond

jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath

instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder

and then he feels it

he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his

with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss

below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again

your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow

you can move again

you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths

he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now

“jongho, you-”

he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter

“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes

“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”

“fuck, you scared me”

jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water

you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”

he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly

“don’t ever do that again”

the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly

it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact

where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love

“i won’t,” you promise

on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man

a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after

but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid

a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after

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j4gm · 8 months

Text

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 1: FIONNA CAMPBELL

Here's a bunch of stuff I spotted. Feel free to add more.

During the anime girl hero dream Fionna mentions Hans Brinker, a character from a novel which introduced speed skating to the United States.

The BMO style alarm clock has BMO's voice.

The ducks that steal Marshall Lee's money look like one-headed versions of the two-headed duck from the original Adventure Time title sequence.

Cheers is a real sitcom. Simon previously sang its theme song in the episode Simon & Marcy, and now it seems to have manifested in the human AU due to his connection with it.

Fionna says "stop acting crazy" to Cake with the same meter as Marceline said "stop acting crazy" to Ice King in the episode I Remember You.

We all spotted this in the trailer but there's a Magic Man hat in this shot. Magic Man's hat was most recently seen being worn by Betty.

The Betty statue also suggests that Simon's psyche has significant influence over this world. The fountain includes frogs, a symbol of change that was previously also used in Temple of Mars. And Fionna mentions the statue underwent renovation twelve years ago, which is the same amount of time that's passed in the prime universe since Betty's amalgamation with GOLB.

It would seem Mrs. Abadeer runs a vacuum cleaner company as well as being Fionna's landlady. And Queenie runs an accounting business as well as the tour bus.

The stickers on Marshall Lee's guitar case are all references to real life punk rock bands. X-Ray Pex = X-Ray Spex, Daikini Kill = Bikini Kill, PM might be a reference to AM as in the Arctic Monkeys. I'm not sure what Las Crudas and Dark Eyes are references to. Perhaps someone more familiar with punk rock can let me know?

In case you were wondering, the credits confirm that this is human genderswapped Fern. It's a bit more obvious now that we can see all her green clothes and backpack, and given what she said about her dreams being super messed up. I'm not gonna go through the rest of the cameo characters in this episode because most of them are pretty obvious or already got figured out when the trailer dropped. That said, if anyone knows who the bus driver is meant to be please let me know.

The sword in the window of this games shop looks very similar to Fionna's sword from the original comic series.

The latte that Gumball - ahem I mean Gary - makes in this scene features PB's swan.

Okay one more cameo mention because I feel like it might become significant later. This is Ice Queen.

Fionna and Cake are dreaming about their apartment block in the credits of this episode, but it has a roof like the Tree Fort and the same little boat with a telescope and parasol.

Episode 2 to follow!

#adventure time #fionna and cake #easter egg posts

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corroded-hellfire · 30 days

Text

The Bunny and the Hair - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: All you want is a cute photo of your daughter in her bunny costume and a photo of the whole Munson family together. But nothing is simple when the children of Eddie Munson are involved

Note: Happy Easter! Thank you to my darlings @munson-blurbs and @offensiunculaee for helping me brainstorm ideas when the only thing in my head was Eliza dressed as a bunny 💕

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Aww, come on sweet pea. Give me a smile.”

Your five-month-old daughter does the very opposite of that. It seems that Eliza Munson has somehow perfected the art of giving a piercing glare before mastering sitting up on her own without being a little wobbly.

The fuzzy white bunny suit she’s in, hood with ears and all, paints the most adorable picture you’ve ever seen. It would be even cuter if she would flash a brief look of glee for a single photo. This Easter is warmer than it’s been in the last few years and it’s easy to understand that she’s getting hot, which is making her cranky. But you just want one good picture.

“Just one little smile for Mommy? Please?” You raise the small silver camera to your eye before remembering that this new fancy one has a digital screen where you can see what the picture will look like without squinting through a little hole.

Deciding to start snapping shots and see what happens, your forefinger presses the small shiny button that makes a soft click after click. A giggle bubbles out of you as you notice your baby getting grumpier and grumpier with each shot. A flipbook would be a perfect place to put these photos and flip through them to see Eliza Hulk-out in real time.

She is getting officially fed up now.

“Boys?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder to where your husband and sons stand, watching your attempt at an infant photo shoot. “Can you make her smile so I can get one good shot? Then I’ll get her out of that.”

If anything can make Eliza laugh, it’s her brothers. Particularly Luke, he likes to remind people.

“Sure,” Ryan says, looking around for any prop to assist him. His brown eyes snag on the eggs on the coffee table, the ones you and the boys had been in the middle of preparing to be dyed before Eddie came out with Eliza in all her fluffy glory. “Hey! Liza! Watch this!” He catches the baby’s eye and picks up one of the boiled eggs and jumps up, pretending to crack it over Eddie’s head. It brings a small smile out of your daughter.

“Hey, hey!” Luke says, waving his arms to attract his little sister’s attention. “Eliza, look!” The younger Munson boy grabs an egg and props one socked foot on the edge of the coffee table to leverage himself up high enough to copy Ryan’s actions.

“Oh, Luke, that one wasn’t–”

Your warning comes too late. The ten-year-old had picked up one of the eggs that had yet to be boiled in preparation for decorating. This comes to light when Luke crushes the egg over his father’s head and runny yolk and gooey egg whites plop down onto Eddie’s hair and drip down his frizzy curls.

The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room. All eyes are on Eddie as his shoulders bunch up towards his ears and his jaw drops open, a small dollop of yellow yolk falling onto his salt-and-pepper scruff. It’s hard to tell how long the room is frozen, silent until—

Furious giggles come from behind you and it breaks the tension that kept the four of you rooted to your spots. You whip your head around to see Eliza laughing so hard that she loses her balance and flops down onto her side, unable to remain sitting up straight on her own. Quickly, you’re able to set her up right again and grab the camera getting a few shots of her, giddy as can be in her bunny suit.

Relieved that’s taken care of, you now turn back to look back at your husband, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Neither has Luke.

It’s obvious to you by the look on Eddie’s face that he can tell that it was an accident, but your son is wide-eyed in fear, clearly not getting the same sense.

“E-Eliza, say bye-bye to Luke cause Dad is gonna kill me,” Luke says softly, never taking his bright blue eyes from his father’s egg-covered form.

Eddie takes a step towards Luke slowly, clearly wanting to keep Luke in suspense until the last second, before he wipes a large glob of the sticky egg goo from his own hair and rubs it into the little boy’s messy curls. A maniacal laugh erupts from deep within Eddie as he tugs Luke against his chest, not letting his son get away as he squirms and squeals, trying to escape the shared messiness. Despite his protests, when Luke pulls back and looks up at his dad, he’s laughing.

Watching the two of them in amusement, you put your hands on your hips and shake your head. Never a dull moment with the Munson men. The two of them continue to rub egg on one another as you turn towards the only clean boy in the house.

“Ryan, can you go get Eliza out of her costume? Last thing we need is her overheating.”

“Yeah, you get cranky enough already,” Ryan tells his baby sister as he scoops her up. Eliza gives a little harumph, but you think that’s more from the way the twelve-year-old holds onto her tightly than offense at his words.

You set the camera down on the coffee table, making sure it isn’t near any of the eggs.

“Damn,” you say. “Forgot to get a family picture.”

“We’ll take one when Ry and Eliza come back out,” Eddie says, dodging Luke’s sticky fingers.

“That’s gonna look great with you two looking like you fell in a vat of slime,” you say with a laugh.

Your husband and his mini me only continue to get messier until you hear Ryan’s footsteps coming back down the hall toward the living room. The moment your eyes land on your daughter’s new ensemble, you have to do a double take. Eliza is beaming in her brother’s arms, wearing her bright pink bathing suit covered in large, white polka dots.

Left speechless, your eyes widen and you’re only able to gesture with your hands towards the swimsuit.

Ryan shrugs as he hefts his sister up on his hip. “She grabbed it when I opened her drawer. And you said you didn't want her overheating.”

Your gaze slides from Eliza, over to Luke and Eddie, then back to Ryan.

“You and I are going to be the ones who stick out in the Easter picture,” you tell your oldest. “We look normal.”

“You mean we don’t look normal?” Luke asks, jumping on his dad’s back and scrunching up the man’s eggy curls.

Sighing and shaking your head in amusement, you snatch up the camera and fiddle with it until you set the timer for three minutes. The entertainment unit is the perfect height to rest the camera so it can get a good shot of the whole family. You set it on the shelf right above the television and nod your family over toward where the lens is facing.

Eddie, still sporting Luke as a backpack, walks over and stands on your right. Ryan, carrying a still-beaming Eliza tucks into your left side. It’s impossible not to look over the gang around you, letting out a laugh as you take in the chaotic bunch.

“Smile!” Luke instructs everyone.

Eddie slips his hand around your waist and pulls your side flush up against his, squishing some of the egg whites against you, causing you to let out a squeal of laughter just as the flash of the camera goes off. Your husband grins and presses a big wet kiss on your cheek

“Now that picture’s gonna be a keeper,” he says.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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mvltisstuff · 6 months

Note

hi!! could you possibly do a one-shot where buck and reader are flirting during the dosed episode? like they get high and are handcuffed and are just giggling and flirting and then accidental confession or something and then the next day they’re just like “i’m pretty sure we’re dating now..” thank you so so much!! this idea just made me giggle so <33

you get me so high - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif does not belong to me

a/n: i adore this idea, thank you for sharing <3 i worked on this very sporadically, and i’m not the biggest fan of it but i hope you enjoy!

whoever brought those brownies in was an angel to y/n. yeah, a felony for sure, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t secretly enjoy it.

even though the whole station had been haunted by taylor and her team the entire day, all of the worries of the job seemed to vanish. buck wasn’t sure why, but he just saw everything different than he has before. nature called for him and he was more than excited to be at his job.

he just wanted to laugh at everything, each little girl in front of him was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. he watched y/n from across the room, sitting on the floor and playing with a girl in a massive dress shaped like a pastry.

“where did you get this dress?” she asks, running her fingers down the satin on the side.

“my mommy bought it for me!”

“can she buy one for me?” y/n asks, turning her head to see the grown firefighter skipping over.

“y/n!” he shoots out quickly, jogging over to lean next to her on the ground.

“hi buck! will you buy me a dress like this?”

“only if you buy me one,” he smiles. “maybe we should put bobby in one.” he starts completely laughing at the thought of bobby in a pretty pink dress, with a sash and a tiara.

“what is going on- buck!” chim shouts. “can someone help us over here?”

“how are we not helping?” buck asks, leading y/n to just shrug. they glance over at eddie in the corner, looking at all the pageant girls like they have 5 heads. he almost looks fearful of them, swaying in his spot.

the next few minutes were a blur, and suddenly they were all handcuffed together against a wall. hen, eddie, buck, and y/n were all connected by their hands, being watched by athena like they misbehaved at school.

“ooh, you made him cry!” buck teases, looking at the tears streaming down eddie’s face. y/n just looks closer to athena’s face.

“you’re a hot cop, thena,” y/n speaks airily, just smiling cheekily at the officer in front of her.

“you guys are high as hell and you’re on duty.”

“what?” hen exclaims. “i didn’t smoke anything-“

“well you ate something! someone brought marijuana brownies into the station, so you’re all off work.”

the team just looks around in shock, not fully caring until y/n and buck start giggling once more. “just- just sit down against this wall, and do not move.” athena demands, walking away to deal with the other emergency in the main room.

y/n and buck sat fine against the wall, comparing hands and very lightly slapping each other on the sides. a few spouts of silence would happen for a few minutes while the group of stoners just watched the world pass in front of them.

“buck,” y/n whispers.

“what?” he asks.

“you’re really cute, like i just figured i’d let you know.”

“thanks, you’re a cutie, too,” she giggles at his words, throwing her head back against the wall as he just glances at her. normal, sober buck would’ve had a racing heart and nerves fluttering all over his body because she told him he was cute. he knows he’s not bad looking, but hearing it from her is when he truly believes it. now, he just figured why not? yolo, anyway.

“no, you’re like cute cute. like hot oiled up firefighter cute.”

“that means so much, y/n,” he says, the sly remark almost making his heart clench.

“i want you under my christmas tree.”

“well, i want you in an easter egg for me.”

“well, i want you-“

“can you just shut up?” eddie asks, still distressed about being handcuffed and drugged. “we get it, you’re into each other. and what happens when you’re not high?”

“i don’t remember talking to you,” buck teases, giving eddie a side eye but keeping his head directed towards the pretty girl next to him.

“alright,” athena comes back into sight. “let’s get you all home, maybe sleep off some of this.”

the next morning, y/n remembered every little thing she said to buck, and he remembered every little thing he said to her. they hoped maybe it was like alcohol, making them forget what they may or may not have said, but nope. it was clear as day. it didn’t feel as awkward, though. it felt easier. like a weight was off their shoulders after being weighed down for so long.

when they both arrived at work, the look from the other just told them everything they had to know. buck meant everything he said, and so did she. her eyes lightly wandered over his, and he didn’t even make her say anything. they both knew that those cookies made a great thing burst open.

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mountainsandmayhem · 27 days

Text

Happy Easter, Joel Miller

18+

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel’s secret sweet tooth inspires a little Easter surprise.

CW: 18+, MDNI. Food play. Praise. Oral (f! Receiving), Established relationship.

AN: this is absolutely not edited or proof read. Just enjoy it, ok! Haha.

Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but Joel Miller LOVES chocolate. He has secret stashes of chocolate hidden around the house and in his work truck.

Easter brings his favourite chocolates - mini eggs. The candy coating crunches and then you get to that delicious milk chocolate middle.

“God damn, I love you.” He says to a handful of mini eggs the Saturday night of Easter weekend. And that’s enough to spark a surprise for tomorrow.

Sunday afternoon, Joel heads off to do his usual routine. He likes to wash his work truck and stop at the store for waters and Gatorade for his crew cooler. In the 40-ish minutes he’s gone you race to melt some chocolate and then make a trail of small foil wrapped eggs to the kitchen.

You strip down to just a pastel coloured thong and climb up onto the table. You place more eggs around you and then when you hear his truck pulling onto the driveway, you drizzle warm melted chocolate along your body.

A line up one thigh, a curved line from one hip to your ribs in the other side. Drips along the swell of your breasts. As he opens the door you lay back on the table and wait.

“I’m back, babe.” He calls as he toes off his boots. “Oh, chocolates!”

He sounds like a little kid and you giggle quietly at how fucking cute this broad and grumpy man can be sometimes.

“What’s going on here babe?”

You laugh and yell, “follow the trail. There’s a delicious surprise at the end.”

You hear him padding along the hardwood floor. Your body breaks out in goosebumps as you wait excitedly, chocolate covered nipples turning into stiff peaks. As he comes around the corner he sees you. His eyes go wide, mouth dropping before a devious grin crosses his face.

“Oh fuck. You look….fuck…” rendering him speechless is your favourite thing to do. You bite your bottom lip while smiling up at him from the table.

“Hungry?” You say mischievously.

Joel’s gaze goes from awe to pure lust as he stalks over to the table, planting his strong hands beside you and leaning his face close to the chocolate across your stomach.

He practically growls, “Fucking starving, babygirl,” before laying a long, warm lick across your stomach. He laps up all the chocolate, twirling his tongue and kissing until it’s clean. You’re writhing under him as he moves to the chocolate along your arm.

“Mmm, so sweet and soft.” He hums before moving to the melted deliciousness that’s coating your hard nipples.

“I think you’re enjoying yourself,” he says through kisses down your heaving chest.

“Please, Joel,” you moan, your hand going to rub your clit over your thong.

Joel grabs your wrist to stop you. “Not yet, baby. Gotta get you all clean first,” he sucks one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue to clean it. Your back arches, a sign that you want more. “You’re so amazing.”

Once it’s clean he rolls your wet nipple between his thumb and forefinger and moves his soft lips to your other nipple. He suckles on that one gently while pinching and pulling the other.

“Oh god, that feels so good, Joel.” That familiar fire starts in your belly and you start to wonder if you could cum from just him teasing your nipples.

He bites down gently, pinching the other with equal pressure and you cry out in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure. After letting go he peppers your breasts with feather light kisses.

“I need you, Joel. Please,” you whine, canting your hips towards the air.

He walks to the head of the table and sits in his chair. His voice comes out like dark molasses as he says, “Slide down to me, baby.”

You prop yourself onto your elbows and shimmy down the table to him. He sits back, eyes watching the wet spot that’s soaked through your light thong.

“She’s needy,” he says deeply.

You slid until your ass is right at the edge of the table, him between your legs. He has chocolate on his beard and corners of his lips and you fight the urge to lick it off.

“I’m going to clean off this thigh. And then slide that sexy little underwear to the slide and give your beautiful puffy pussy what she needs.”

You nod and chant ‘yes please’ like it’s a church prayer. He uses his teeth and tongue to clean your thigh and the second it’s clean he pulls your panties to the side roughly, you make eye contact for a brief second, his eyes practically obsidian with lust before he dives in.

Immediately sucking your needy clit into his mouth, the rough tip of his tongue flicking it passionately.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry.

He releases your soft skin with a pop. “Already?” He smirky cockily, three fingers now teasing your entrance.

“Please Joel.” Your voice is a needy whine as your body jerks and twitches under his attention.

“Ok, my love. Stay still for me. Let me get my fingers in,” his voice is calm and commanding. You slow your breathing and let your knees fall open further as he works his thick fingertips in. “That’s it. Good girl. Make room for me.”

“Oh shit. More. Please. More.” You close your eyes and get lost in him and the euphoric state he’s putting you in.

“There she goes,” he says as his fingers push all the way in. He curls them forward and you feel it immediately, your orgasm right on the edge. He sucks your sensitive bud back into his mouth and you’re done for. Pleasure ripples through you as he pumps his fingers and flicks at your clit.

Between licks he mumbles praise into the velvety skin of your pussy. “Good girl. So beautiful. That’s it.”

As you come down from your high he slides his fingers out of you and then stands up, lifting you into his arms and walking to the bedroom as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Happy Easter, Joel Miller,” you whisper into his neck.

==========================

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carolmunson · 9 months

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come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)

part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks

The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.

“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”

You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.”

It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.

“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”

“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.

“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”

“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.”

The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.

“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?” “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!”

When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables.

“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?”

His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.”

“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum.

“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.

“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.

“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?”

“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent.

“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like. “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”

You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks.

He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in.

“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.”

“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.”

“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.”

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.” “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it. You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”

“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”

“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.”

“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you.

“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow.

“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.

“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.

“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them. You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.

His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth.

His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.

“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?”

“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down.

“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies.

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfiction

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1: Got the News Today, Doctor Said I Had to Stay

Collaboration with the fabulous @corroded-hellfire

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: When you're stuck in the hospital after the Hawkins "earthquake," you're surprised to find comfort in your new roommate, Eddie Munson. But when you find out that your injuries may compromise your dreams, the cheery façade threatens to come crashing down.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, controlled use of pain medication

WC: 3.9k

A/N: There will be six chapters to this series, one for each Jonas Brothers album. Try to spot the Easter eggs we've planted throughout!

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“I said, get this murderer out of my room!” A shrill voice from across the hall startles you from your sleep. The digital clock on the bedside table reads 7:05, but you can’t be sure if it’s morning or evening. The bright lights of Hawkins General Hospital have your internal clock all jumbled, and the constant barrage of nurses checking on you certainly doesn’t help.

“He should be locked up in prison or rotting on death row, not using precious resources that could be used on law-abiding citizens!” the shrieking woman continues, and you grimace as your head throbs. It seems like the pain never ceases; it only travels around your body. You’ve been here for two days, and you have more questions than answers.

There’s quiet for a few moments before the door to your room swings open and a second bed is being wheeled in, more IV lines hooked up to the poor patient than you’ve got going on. A nurse pulls the curtain separating the two sides of the room before you can get a look at whoever is lying in the bed.

“Well, that was a record,” a male voice says from the other side of the curtain. “How long before that one freaked out? Six minutes?”

No one answers the man, but you can hear nurses and orderlies setting up any equipment the patient would need.

“Don’t blame them,” a woman eventually mumbles, moving a machine over. “Kid killed a cheerleader and then fled the scene. I wouldn’t wanna bunk with him, either.”

A new pair of footsteps joins the crowded room, but this time it’s just your nurse, Mandy, coming in to check on you. She’s a pretty blonde woman, and though she’s usually smiling, her lips are puckered into a pout.

“I know this is far from ideal,” she says softly, checking your vitals and marking notes on her chart, “but we’ll have people in here making sure nothing happens, okay?”

“I think she’s pretty harmless, just loud,” you lightly joke, assuming that Mandy’s referring to the banshee across the hall. “Worst thing she’ll do is trigger a migraine.”

She shakes her head. “No, hon. I’m talking about your, uh, new roommate. Edward Munson.”

Well, that explains the whole murderer outburst. Still, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Eddie? I went to school with him. Guy couldn’t even be bothered to turn in his part of a group project; I highly doubt he could pull off a murder.” You’d think he would have had something done, considering it was his second time taking O’Donnell’s senior English class, but he’d shown up empty-handed, leaving his poor partner scrambling at the last minute.

Mandy nods, looking a little relieved herself. Maybe the thought of her having to be his nurse had been eating at her.

“Is he awake?” you ask. You can only assume he’s not, because the Eddie Munson you remembered would never have been quiet for this long.

“Sleeping,” Mandy says. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“Um.” You wrinkle up your nose as you think, a sharp pain taking that moment to shoot down your leg. “When can I get some more pain medication? And food?”

Going through the papers in your chart, Mandy’s eyes scan lines of writing until she comes to the answer she needs. “You’ve got about forty-five minutes until I can give you your next dose. Luckily, dinner should be here quicker than that.”

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, sinking back against your pillows.

After another round of pain meds, you’re able to drift off into a light sleep. You don’t have dreams on the medication; you’re simply floating in a haze of pinks and purples. Perhaps the dreamlessness is a good thing, considering the memories buried deep inside your unconscious mind. Your roommate is not so fortunate.

“No! Stop!” Eddie whimpers from the bed next to you, startling you from your sleep. You can see through the translucent curtain that he’s trying to thrash, but his injuries limit his movements. “Henderson, help me! Get me out of here!”

“Hey,” you whisper, but when he cries out again, you raise your voice slightly. “Eddie, wake up!”

“I won’t run away, didn’t run away, gotta save Chrissy,” he mumbles, still trapped in his nightmare. “Don’t let me die. Don’t wan’ die.” The urgency in his tone falters, and you realize that he’s crying.

“Eddie, you’re alive!” you call out to him, wishing you had the strength to walk to him and shake him awake. “You survived the earthquake, okay? But you gotta wake up!”

You watch as he jolts up involuntarily, groaning loudly as pain blooms throughout his torso. “Fuck,” he moans, clutching his ribs with one arm. “Wha—where am I? Oh, shit.” He lays back down as the realization sets in. He tries to choke back a sob, inadvertently sending himself into a coughing fit.

“Here,” you call out to him, grabbing the cup of water on your bedside table. “Can you open the curtain and reach?”

Eddie’s able to yank back the cloth fabric, but neither of you can move close enough for him to grasp onto the cup. The two of you are confined to hospital beds, arms outstretched pathetically just to pass a glass of water. The scene is so absurd that you have to laugh.

“You think—cough—this is—cough—funny?” Eddie asks, but his grin indicates that he also finds it amusing. “I survived the Up—earthquake, and—cough—now I’m gonna die from—cough—lack of water?”

“‘M sorry,” you manage between peals of laughter. “I’m just imagining how ridiculous we’d look to someone passing by.”

Eddie uses his last bit of strength to lunge, finally securing the cup and guzzling down the water. “Thanks, um…” He cranes his neck to see your name written on the whiteboard above your bed. “Oh, shit! Did we go to high school together?”

You nod. “We did. I graduated last year. We had Mrs. O’Donnell’s English class together.”

He wrinkles his nose at the mention of his least favorite teacher. “Ugh, yeah. I mean, not ugh that we had a class together; ugh at O’Donnell,” he blabbers. “And an extra ugh for me having to take that class again this year.”

“I thought a certain metalhead was missing from graduation,” you tease.

“Aw, you noticed?” Eddie’s smirk makes you laugh, the pain meds probably adding to your bubbly mood.

“Well, no one caused a commotion or flipped off old man Higgins, so yeah,” you say. “And there was a distinct lack of Black Sabbath blaring through the parking lot.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Gotta stay inspired, y’know? I don’t want to be one of those musicians who has someone write their shit for them. It makes it less real, or whatever.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You write all of Corroded Coffin’s music?” you ask incredulously.

Eddie nods. “Well, me and the rest of the guys—wait,” he pauses, eyes narrowing with suspicion, “you know the name of my band?”

“Mhm,” you pick at the itchy wool blanket draped over your legs. “You played at the middle school talent show. I was in seventh grade, so you must’ve been in eighth.”

He doesn’t say anything for a bit; he just studies your face until a huge grin forms from cheek to cheek. “You’re the dancer!” he exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You did that routine with the, um, the fancy shoes…”

“Pointe shoes,” you giggle. “Yeah, people weren’t too impressed. Apparently a twelve-year-old flailing on stage to Swan Lake was not the hit I’d thought it’s be.”

“Flailing?” Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, you were amazing. Don’t tell my friends, but I, uh, secretly wanted you to win.”

“Me?!”

“Yeah, you.” He matches your surprised tone, making you laugh again. “I thought it was totally badass, getting up there and doing ballet when all the other girls were jumping around to Blondie.”

“Don’t knock Debbie Harry,” you warn him teasingly, poking your forefinger in his direction. “She is an icon, and you will show her some respect.”

Eddie brings a hand to his heart. “My deepest apologies, to both you and Ms. Harry.” He flashes another sweet smile that could melt an iceberg. “But I really did want you to win. I’ve always rooted for the underdog.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” And you do. It’s nice to know that someone besides your parents believed in you.

“You, uh, you still dance?” Eddie asks abruptly.

“Yup,” you tell him, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s actually what I go to school for.”

“Good,” Eddie muses, averting his gaze from your side of the room. “You were too talented to give that up.”

You’re about to respond when there’s a knock on the door and you see an orderly walk in with a food tray. You drop your head back on your pillow, humming your happiness. The orderly sets your table within your reach before placing your tray on it. Before the man can even step out the door to grab Eddie’s food, you’re inhaling the soup you’ve been given. You’re distantly aware as Eddie gets his food, but you’re busy trying to figure out what type of soup it is. Is that potato in it?

A groan from the other side of the curtain has you looking in Eddie’s direction as you swallow a mouthful of soup.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, clearly lying.

“If we’re going to be roommates, we’re going to have to learn to be honest with one another.”

He huffs a laugh as he clangs his silverware together. “S’just that it’s gonna sound ridiculously stupid after what everyone has been through.”

“Humor me,” you say before ladling another spoonful of soup in your mouth.

“Fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I got green Jell-O. I hate that shit.”

Your eyes lock on your own Jell-O, bright red where it sits next to your piece of bread and cup of water. “How do you feel about red?”

“Much better,” Eddie says, tearing off a piece of his own bread and shoving it into his mouth.

“Wanna trade?” you offer.

“Y’don’t have to do that,” he says through his full mouth.

“Nah, come on,” you say. “Besides, green’s my favorite color.”

Eddie looks over at you, a skeptical look on his face as he chews. But you pick up your sealed cup of Jell-O and toss it over to him. Smiling, he throws the green in return, which you manage to catch.

“Thanks,” he says. You hum in acknowledgment as you tear off the foil lid.

There’s a beat of silence as you both eat what Hawkins General considers dessert. “I don’t know how you like the green one,” Eddie pipes up.

You shrug. “Jell-O is Jell-O,” you say nonchalantly, taking a big spoonful to emphasize your point.

“Nuh uh,” Eddie shakes his head, wincing at the twinge of pain it causes. “Cherry is the superior flavor, and everyone knows it.” He slurps it obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes.

“Geez, how does Chrissy put up with you?” Your tone is light and joking, so you’re taken aback by the darkness that takes over his face. “What?”

“How do you know about Chrissy?” he asks, voice barely audible.

Your face heats up; you’d forgotten that he didn’t know you’d heard him talking in his sleep. “Um, you said something about saving her when you were having that nightmare,” you admit, softening when you realize how vulnerable he is. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, she isn’t—wasn’t,” he amends. “She was the girl who died in my trailer. But I…I didn’t kill her, I swear.” Eddie looks over at you with misty eyes. “I can’t tell you what happened, but you have to believe me.”

You hold his gaze. “I believe you,” you murmur, quiet but assured.

The two of you go back to your food, plastic utensils scraping styrofoam bowls, until Eddie speaks up again. “You…you said I talked about Chrissy in my sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“What else did I say?” He looks ambivalent, like he’s unsure if he wants to know what his subconscious mind churned up.

You think back for a moment. “You asked someone for help, and then you said you didn’t want to, um…you didn’t want to die.” Your eyes flit over to his side of the room, but he’s practically boring a hole in his Jell-O cup with how intently he’s staring at it.

“Did you tell me to wake up? That I survived?” He finally allows himself to make eye contact with you, a trace of a smile dancing on his lips.

“Yeah—I can never remember if you’re supposed to let the nightmare end naturally, but you seemed really upset.” You gnaw on your lower lip anxiously.

Eddie rests his head on the pillow. “God, this is gonna sound corny as hell,” he starts, chuckling to himself, “but when you did that, it was like…I saw brightness, y’know? Not like, Eddie, come into the light,” he drops his voice an octave and wiggles his fingers, making you giggle, “but like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds. Does that make sense?”

You nod, watching him exhale in relief.

“Guess you’re my sunshine then, huh?” He gives you a shy smile that you easily return, trying to push down the spark of electricity that seems to flow between you.

“Hey, how about this?” Eddie asks as he lands on a channel. Your eyes feel like they’re going to roll back in your head when you see a NASCAR race on tiny television.

“Absolutely not,” you answer.

“Aw, come on,” Eddie says, shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s an American pastime.”

“It’s one big left turn, is what it is,” you shout. “Toss me the remote?” Eddie chuckles and goes to throw it your way before you wince and add, “Watch the leg!”

He’s careful to avoid the area as he sends it your way, but his eyes drift down the blanket at the mention of your limb. “Is that why you’re in here?”

“No, I’ve always wanted to vacation here,” you reply, maintaining a deadpan expression.

“I hear the eleventh floor is just wonderful this time of year,” Eddie throws back, feigning a posh British accent. Terribly, you might add. “How bad is it?” he presses, motioning towards your leg.

“Dunno yet,” you answer honestly. “They took some x-rays and did a bunch of scans; now I’m just waiting for the doctor. They’re probably just overwhelmed.”

Eddie nods. “Nothing like a good, old-fashioned earthquake to shake things up.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to react to his pun. Nothing. “Oh, c’mon! That was a good one!”

“You’re a comedic genius, Eddie Munson,” you joke, and he flips you off, nearly snagging the IV tube pinching his skin. “I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll probably be in a cast for six weeks, maybe have to do some physical therapy. This isn’t my first broken bone.”

“How do you do that?” Eddie muses.

“Do what?”

“Be so…positive,” he explains sheepishly. “I mean, you could be all bitter or anxious, but you’re calm, cool, and collected.” He fiddles with his fingers, frowning as though something is missing. “You really are a ray of sunshine, huh?”

“That’s me.” Truthfully, you’re worried that this could be more than just a run-of-the-mill break, but you don’t let that fear seep through. Instead, you aim the remote at the tiny TV in the corner of the room, settling on a soap opera rerun. It’s not what you’d usually watch, but you’re determined to get your revenge for his NASCAR escapades earlier.

To your chagrin, Eddie’s enthralled with the on-screen drama. “Oh, shit!” He rubs his hands together. “Is this the one where Shelby sleeps with Theo and his identical twin brother, Mark?” He chuckles at the bemused look on your face. “I got hooked on this show when I was home with the flu last year,” he confesses, though he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed.

“Eddie Munson, secret soap opera aficionado?” You waggle your eyebrows. “Scandalous. What will your fans think?”

“I am what I am, Sunshine.” He sits up a little straighter as a woman with big hair and even bigger breasts shoves ultrasound photos at an impossibly handsome man. “No fuckin’ way!” Eddie gasps. “She’s knocked up!”

“How did you not see that coming? It’s like the oldest trick in the book!” you ask incredulously. “Now she has to figure out which brother is the dad.”

Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes widen in shock. “But they’re identical! How’s she gonna do that?”

“Guess you’ll just have to watch and find out!” you chirp, giggling as he lets out an impatient sigh.

“Mr. Munson?” a nurse calls from the doorway, pushing an empty wheelchair. “We’re ready to run your tests. Just have to transfer you to the chair.” She pats the back of it, trying to keep some level of professionalism, but you can tell that she’s nervous being around an alleged murderer. She holds out her hand to help Eddie out of bed, and he shoots you a tight grin.

“I’m goin’ commando under here, Sunshine,” he warns you. “Look away. This show ain’t free.”

You cover your eyes dramatically as he plops into the chair, grunting and groaning the whole way down. “Is it safe?”

“You’re good,” Eddie reassures you as the nurse starts to wheel him out of the room. “Hey, let me know who the father is when I get back. My money’s on Theo.”

You narrow your eyes. “How much money?”

“Hmm,” Eddie taps his chin with his forefinger, pretending to be deep in thought. “It won’t be as much as usual, since I already bought a beach house and a Jaguar this year…$3,000 sound good?”

You give him a little salute, turning your attention back to the show. Settling in against the pillows, you get immersed in the show yourself, rooting for some characters, and wanting some to get stabbed in the backs like they deserve. Just as it comes back to Shelby’s storyline, your doctor walks in, a tight smile on his lips.

“What’s the news, Dr. Sanoj?”

“Well,” he says, looking down at the chart in his hands. “Like we suspected, it’s your femur. It was crushed pretty badly. It’s going to need a few pins in it, which will require some surgery.”

Letting a deep sigh fall from your lips, you nod your head. “Okay. Was kind of expecting that.”

“Now, we won’t know for sure until we get in there and take a look at things, but there’s a chance you’ll need a mobility aid to help you get around.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brows pinching in confusion. “Like crutches?”

“Crutches are one type of aid, yes. But they range in variety. It’s things like wheelchairs, walkers, canes. But this will be a better discussion for once we see how the surgery turns out,” Dr. Sanoj says.

“Would I need to use one forever?” The sympathetic look that softens your doctor’s face lets you know he heard the trepidation in your voice. “Will I be able to dance again?”

“Like I said,” Dr. Sanoj says, “this discussion is best for once the surgery is done.”

You nod your head, knowing you probably won’t be able to get any further information on the subject out of him. “When will I have the surgery?”

“Scheduling is going to work that out and they should let you know by the end of the day. You can expect to be here the days following the surgery, but you shouldn’t be cooped up in these hospital walls for too much longer. You’ll get there, you’ll see. One day at a time.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

A funk has taken over you once Dr. Sanoj leaves the room. A mobility aid? Could you dance with one of those? Surgery and recovery you planned on, but the goal was always to get you back in the dance studio, and needing a device to help you simply get around was not what you had been expecting.

Allowing yourself to stew in your own self pity for a few moments, you realize you’ve missed the big reveal on which brother is the father of Shelby’s baby. You’ll have to tell Eddie that. Explain the doctor came in and you were talking to him. But, you think to yourself, Eddie doesn’t need to know just what rough shape your leg is in. He calls you his sunshine, doesn’t he? That would just bring some gray clouds that he did not need in his life. He’s got a lot going on and is going to need to keep his spirits up. That’ll be easier for you to do if you pretend like everything is rainbows and lollipops.

The door opens and Eddie is wheeled back inside, groaning in pain as he holds a hand over his ribs.

“Right here with the pain medicine,” Nurse Mandy says, stepping in behind him.

“Oh, please be mine,” Eddie says, watching the bundle in Mandy’s hands like a hawk. “Sorry roomie, I think I need it more than you do right now.”

“S’all yours,” you tell him.

Mandy sets a bag of IV fluid up as the transporter helps Eddie get back in bed. His face is pale, and you’ve learned that comes when agonizing pain is ripping through you.

“Okay, Mr. Munson. Should start hitting you at any minute now,” Mandy says.

“Thanks,” Eddie says, letting his eyes drift closed. He stays that way after both the nurse and the transporter leave the room. You think he’s fallen asleep until he speaks again. “So, which brother was it?”

“Ah, sorry, Eddie,” you say. “Doc came in and I was talking with him, so I think I missed it.”

“Good news?” Eddie’s opened his eyes and turns his head to look at you, genuine concern written across his face.

For a moment, you contemplate spilling everything: the surgery, the mobility aid, the possibility of never dancing again. But you shove it deep down, determined to keep your cheery disposition that he so desperately needs. “Y-Yeah, everything’s looking ship-shape.” Ship-shape? You’re a terrible liar, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice.

“Thas’ good shit.” From the dreamy quality his voice is taking in, you can tell the pain meds are starting to take effect.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask.

“Sore as hell from how they had to maneuver me for x-rays. But I feel the medicine kicking in.” A smile comes to his face and you can tell the giddiness of the high is hitting him. “Time for me to fly.”

You giggle and turn your attention back to the television. A game show is on now, so you snuggle in to play along. The contestant is getting an obvious puzzle wrong and it makes you roll your eyes. You’re about to say something to Eddie about it, but then his soft snores reach your ears. Turning your head to look at him, you notice how peaceful he looks. All you can do is pray he stays that way and isn’t plagued by any other nightmares.

Sunshine, he calls you. It’s the nicest nickname you’ve ever been given. You’re hoping you can keep that bright and optimistic attitude up enough to help him out when the clouds come rolling in. It’s not a one-way street, though. Eddie is going to be your light, your breath of fresh air, your optimism. You just don’t know it yet.

#albl #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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xdaddysprincessxx · 2 months

Text

Mine, All Mine

Uncle Ezra x virgin f reader

Warnings: Noncon! Unclecest (they are not blood related!) virginity loss, p in v, heavy use of the word kiddo (idk it was doing it for me), filming, uhhh yea I don’t want to say too much so it doesn’t get spoiled. I’d say this is more on the dark side of things so be cautious, you are in charge of your own self and what you read. If it bothers you, stop reading it(:

A/n: this one’s for my love, @bonezone44 ! This literally came from a post they made lol also go check out their Uncle Ezra! It’s the best! (Also if you do/have read hers, maybe you’ll notice a lil Easter egg in mine lol) Enjoy babes! Also Happy Valentine’s Day!😘😘😘

Word count: 4222

Not edited or beta’d (Rad had looked over like half the story so I guess kinda beta’d lol)

It’s the middle of summer and it’s already hotter than Satan’s balls outside. You’re off work today and doing your best to enjoy the day but you’ve found yourself melted to the couch with a fan blasting on high, wearing your shortest shorts and a tank top. Your dad left hours ago for work, he probably won’t be back until much later tonight giving you the whole house to yourself.

You’ve gotten lost in a marathon of Law and Order SVU when you hear a knock on the door. Scrunching your face, confused as to who could be at the door, you get up to go answer it.

Opening the door reveals your Uncle Ezra standing outside, wearing basketball shorts and an old tshirt with the sleeves cut off so his sides are showing, exposing hot, tanned skin.

“Hey kiddo your dad home? I hada to come by to grab a few things.”

You gulp nervously, he isn’t your actual uncle but he’s been your dads best friend since they were kids so he’s considered like an uncle to you. Except ever since you hit eighteen he’s been more touchy, saying extremely sexual things in your ear whenever he’s around. You know it’s wrong, you hate that he does it but a part of you can’t help but like it. You like the dirty things he says, like the way his hand brushes against your ass when he walks by. When you went off to college and moved out you never expected you’d have to move back in with your dad after graduating. Unfortunately life comes at you hard. And ever since you came back home, Ezra has been even more of a menace.

“N-no sorry he’s at work. Um you can come back later.” You say with a stutter as you try to shut the door.

Ezra’s hand shoots out stopping the door from shutting,

“That’s okay kiddo I can wait. Let your old uncle Ezra in sweetie.” He says back with a sly grin on his face, his eyes darkening with mischief.

“O-okay come in.”

“Come in what?”

“Come in uncle Ezra.” You reply with a dry throat.

“Ah there it is. Ya know I like it when you call me uncle Ezra sweetie. It’s good manners and all.”

He walks in through the door, closing it behind him as you turn to walk back to the couch and sit down with your legs under you, leaned against the side cushion. You shiver, now painfully aware of how little clothing you have on now that he’s here. Ezra plops down right next to you, his legs spread as he puts his arm behind you on the back of the couch. You try to swallow, blinking a few times in quick succession.

“Whatcha watching kiddo?”

“Um just law and order. It’s a marathon.” You respond.

Ezra lifts the arm that was behind you and brings it forward, slapping your thigh lightly before rubbing the spot he hit,

“You okay sweetie? Seem kinda off? Is it a boy? Huh? It’s okay talk to uncle Ez. This boy treating you right? Making you feel good?”

Your mouth starts to open and then close as you try to find your voice, “N-no boy uncle Ezra. I-I’m fine. I promise.”

Ezra smiles at you as his hand starts to go up higher on your thigh before stopping and rubbing his thumb back and forth at the top of your thigh.

“Ya know since your daddy ain’t home I’ve been wanting to have this chat with you. Now I know you’re all grown up on me but you should know about men and their needs. But also your own needs sweetie,” he leans in closer so his lips are close to your ear, “Pretty girls like you have pretty pussies and those pretty pussies get wet and needy. Gotta make sure she is properly cared for kiddo. Cant have ya out here dripping and desperate for just any cock. You needa real man.” His low voice sending shivers down your spine. Ezra rubs his nose up and down your neck, right behind your ear.

“S-stop please.”

Ezra pulls back, “Stop? Sweetie I’m just trying to help ya here. I only want the best for ya.” A look of confusion and hurt covers his face.

“I- I want you to stop Uncle Ezra. I know what your doing and I don’t like it. Please stop.”

Ezra sighs real loud, “Okay kiddo. Whatever you say. I’m just trying to look out for ya. I’ll back off.” He takes his hand off your thigh and puts both hands up as he sinks back into the couch, still sitting right next to you. His hands laying down on his open lap.

You swallow thickly before you find the courage to get up,

“I think I’m gonna go read in my room. Feel free to change the channel while you wait.” You announce before heading to the stairs to up to your room.

Once you close your bedroom door behind you, you let out a deep sigh. Taking another breath as though you’ve been holding your breath this entire time. You hate that he feels so comfortable acting so bold. You wished he’d just leave.

It’s been a couple of hours and you’ve been absolutely lost in your own world, reading a new book you’d just gotten. Laying on your bed with your leg propped up against your bent knee as you lay on your back, the perfect reading position. You’re almost to the end when you hear a soft knock on your door as it’s pushed open.

“Hey kiddo just wanted to come check on ya. Wanted ya to have some alone time you seemed a little off earlier.” Ezra says as he walks in and sits on your bed. You sit up straight with your legs criss cross applesauce already feeling a pit in your stomach.

“I- I’m fine uncle Ezra. You didn’t have to check on me.”

“Now I know I didn’t have too but I was worried. You’re like my little girl, you know how much I love ya.” He gives you a soft smile, you can tell he’s trying to put you at ease but all he’s done is make you even more uncomfortable.

Ezra’s eyes flicker over to your nightstand where he sees a sliver of bright pink,

“Well well well what do we have here?” His eyes narrowing in on the object as he reaches forward and pulls out your dildo.

Your cheeks flush, embarrassment washes over you as you grab his wrist that’s connected to the hand now holding your toy,

“Leave that alone! That’s mine!”

“Aht don’t tell me what to do little girl. Now do you mind explaining to me what the hell you’re doing with a plastic cock? I thought my little sweet pea was a virgin. Don’t look like a virgin with this.” He says as he shakes your girthy 7 inch bright pink dildo in your face.

“I am a virgin! And it’s none of your business! Gimmie!” Now you’re fed up, you lunge forward, grabbing at the toy once again only for Ezra to yank it away as his free hand grabs your face, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger.

“Cut the bullshit little girl, ain’t no way this cunt ain’t been touched if your shoving this fucking thing inside ya,” his eyes leave yours and look down at the toy and back at you, a sly smirk blooming on his face.

“Nah see what’s gonna happen now is I’m gonna see for myself how much of a dirty fucking whore you’ve become.”

He releases your face and immediately you drop your face into your chest, scared to look up at him, wanting nothing more than to curl into yourself and vanish.

“Please don’t. Just leave me alone. Please.” You beg him quietly, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

Ezra puts his hand on the back of your neck and squeezes, making you look up at him,

“Nuh uh. You wanna be a slut? Then you’re gonna take a real man’s fucking cock like the good girl you are and like it.” He says with a sneer.

Your eyes are big, filled with tears threatening to spill over. You’ve never been with anyone sexually before. You’ve never even used that dildo, you only have it because your friend gave it to you as a gag gift and now you fear your uncle Ezra is gonna be your first and you don’t get a say in it.

“Please uncle Ezra, I - I don’t want it. I - I’ve never had sex I swear.” Your lip quivering as you continue to beg him not to follow through on his word.

“Oh kiddo don’t be scared. It’s me, your uncle Ez,” he says condescendingly as he leans forward, so close your noses touch, “I’m gonna fuck this sweet virgin pussy. I’ll make it good for you baby. Make sure she creams all over my cock so much you’ll beg for more.”

Tears start falling down your face, a deep fear spreading through your body like a cancer. A fear your pussy seems immune too as you feel yourself clench around nothing in excitement.

“Now lay on back like a good girl baby. Go on.” Ezra urges you as he lets go of your neck and pushes your shoulder back gently. As scared as you are, you also know how much you do secretly enjoy the attention and the touches you get from him. You bite your lip nervously as your back hits the pillows behind you.

Ezra grabs your calf and uncrosses your legs as he bends forward. His face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clothed slit as he takes in a deep breath.

“You smell so sweet kiddo.” He says looking up at you before glancing back down, “looks like someone’s excited to meet me.” He said with a smirk as he brings his hand up, taking his thumb and swiping up from the bottom of your slit up, landing on your little bundle of nerves. He slowly rubs a few circles on your clit, your body lights up from the electric feeling of someone touching you there. You quickly bite your bottom lip and squeeze your eyes closed, trying your hardest to hold back any sign that you like how it feels.

Not paying any attention to you, Ezra pulls your shorts to the side revealing your wet pussy. His brows scrunch as he purses his lips together and lets out a little “oooh”

“She’s even prettier than I imagined honey,” he says before laying a soft kiss on your slit, “seems real happy to meet me too.” He says with a little chuckle. Ezra dives right in, his tongue parting your lips as he licks up and down. Up and down. Swirling his tongue around your entrance before going up to swirl around your clit before he suctions his lips around the little bundle and gives it a few gentle sucks.

The feeling of his mouth on you has you teetering on edge already. You’ve never experienced someone licking you down there before. And it feels so good. A breath moan escapes through your lips before you realize it. Ezra looks up at you when he hears it only to see you with your eyes closed shut and sees you quickly clamp your mouth shut.

“Nu uh kiddo. Open your fucking eyes and watch me,” he says before reaching up and slapping you lightly on the face to get your attention, “fucking rude of ya to do that. Guess I gotta train ya to take cock and to be a good little whore huh?”

You open you eyes, looking down at him. You shake your head no, scared to open your mouth knowing you wouldn’t be able to speak normally.

Ezra looks back down at your pussy as he lowers his hand down. He takes his finger and gently prods your pussy. He pushes a little bit into you before pulling back out, only to push his finger in more and twist.

A whimper escapes your lips this time. His thick finger moving inside of you feels so good you just can’t help it.

“That’s it honey, feels good don’t it? Yea it does,” he slips his finger in all the way continuously moving in and out, twisting as he does so, “She’s opening up for me baby. I think she likes me.” He leans forward again and licks your clit. Looking up at you as he keeps licking and fingering, the sensation’s overwhelming your entire being. He starts sucking your bundle of nerves again, Your head tips back as you give up trying to fight how you feel. Letting out a moan as your hand comes up and grabs your breast and squeezes.

“That’s it baby take em out, play with your nipples for me, gonna feel even better,” he orders before diving back in to lick and suck on your bean.

Doing as he says, you pull your tank top up, revealing your breast as you take one in each hand. Letting yourself feel them, giving them squeezes before you take a nipple in between your fore finger and thumb, pinching the sensitive nub and rolling it between your fingers.

He’s right, you find yourself in ecstasy as you continue to play with yourself as he eats you out.

Ezra’s mouth leaves your heat as he sits up and grabs the dildo. Laying back down in between your legs, he takes the dildo and starts running it up and down gathering your slick on the pink phallus.

“I think she’s ready for more baby what d’ya think?”

Your hands stop what they’re doing as you look down at him with eyes wide with terror. Taking a large gulp you give him a tiny head shake, ‘no’ you mouth.

“Don’t worry baby she’s gonna like this. I’ll kiss it better after.”

He holds the base of the dildo and slowly pushes the top inside your dripping entrance. He manages to get just the tip in and stops pushing in. He slowly twists it side to side as he looks up at you to gauge any pain you might have. You tensed up at the intrusion, your mouth clamped shut with tears forming in your eyes. Ezra leans forward and kisses your sensitive clit, making your hips buck up, chasing his mouth for more. He ever so slightly pushes a little bit more in as he wraps his lips around your bundle of nerves and gives it a little suck. You’re not sure how to feel. The searing pain from the dildo entering you seems to subside and turns into overwhelming pleasure as Ezra continues his assault on your pussy. Soon he pushes the toy all the way in you, all you can do is lay there, writhing in ecstasy as he starts pumping it in and out, switching back and forth between licking and sucking on your stretched cunt.

“Ooohh nngh oh fuck oh fuck Un- Uncle Ezra please - I-I’m close oh fuck I’m gonna -“

White hot pleasure erupts all over, your legs shaking, your body starts to thrash and wiggle as your orgasm takes over. Your brain is on mute, no thoughts, you can barely even remember your own name.

“That’s its kiddo, oh fuck yea I told you she’d like this. Prettiest fucking pussy, got my face fucking soaked baby. Come here”

Ezra stands up, taking the dildo out of you and licking the flared bottom of it before crouching down in front of the mirror that’s next to your bed and sticking it on the mirror.

He stands back up and takes a step and is back at your side. He puts his hand behind your neck. You can feel his fingers work up the base of your skull and grab a handful of your hair. Once he has a good grip, he pulls you up by your hair,

“ Get on your knees baby it’s time you take a real man in those pretty holes of yours.”

Your legs are jelly, you can’t even manage to land on your feet when he pulls you. You roll out of bed and land on your knees on the floor. Your hands shooting out, landing on his leg as you try to keep yourself from face planting.

“Stick out your tongue baby.”

You immediately drop your jaw and stick your tongue all the way out. Your eyes wide looking up at him, without a single thought behind them. Your consumed with this want to do whatever he says, to swallow up any crumb he may leave you in hopes of feeling a smidge of the pure ecstatic pleasure he can give you again.

With his hand still tangled in your hair, his other hand pulls down his shorts. His thick cock springs out, the tip an angry shade of red with precum already leaking out. He is easily the biggest cock you’ve ever seen. Way bigger than the dildo you just took. No longer scared of any potential pain he may cause you, instead a pang of desire shoots through your body, you can feel your pussy get even wetter.

He takes himself in his hand and gives his cock a few pumps before guiding it into your open mouth. He isn’t so gentle this time. Instead he’s quick to push his cock down your throat, hitting the back of your throat making you gag on the first entry. Instantly you gag hard, tears fall from your eyes as spit starts to leak from your mouth around his cock. He pulls out and quickly shoves himself back in. Your hands go up, laying on his thighs as he pushes your head down on his cock as he pushes in. Giving you no respite, you quickly learn to breathe through your nose.

“Fuck yea always had a pretty little mouth on ya baby go on, give Uncle Ezra’s dick a good suck. Show me how good my dick tastes baby.”

You try real hard to suck on him as best you could. You cover your teeth with your lips and tighten your lips around him. Sucking on him, moving your tongue around, tracing a vein that went from the base almost up to the tip. Your nose buried in his curls as he holds you down on him.

“Oh kiddo, y’doing so good nngh this mouth is mine honey. Only Uncle Ezra fucks this pretty hole y’hear me? That tight little cunt is mine too.”

You moan around his dick, hearing him claim you as his.

Suddenly Ezra yanks on your hair, sending you back off his dick. He moves out of the way and pulls you forward, causing you to fall on your hands as he continues to pull making you crawl. Once he stops you realize your directly in front of your mirror. More specifically right in front of the dildo that is now sticking to it. He crouches down so his face in close to yours

“Suck on the fake dick now baby Uncle Ezra’s gonna be right behind you, opening up that tight little gash o’yours.”

Your eyes wide as spit trickles down your chin. Ezra leans forward shoving his tongue in your mouth, kissing you with feral enthusiasm, licking into your mouth before taking your tongue between his lips and sucking as he pulls back. A string of spit connects you too as he breaks the kiss he takes a few seconds and just admires how beautiful you are. Hair a mess, spit covered chin, a wild look in your eyes that says you love this. You look throughly wrecked and he’s just getting started. He yanks on your hair one last time and guides you to the dildo where you wrap your lips around it and begin to suck. You look into the mirror and see yourself on all fours, sucking the toy as Ezra stands up behind you and takes his clothes all the way off.

Once naked, Ezra gets back down on his knees behind you. His hands glide over the globes of your ass as he sits back on his legs and just takes in the most beautiful debauched scene in front of him. Taking himself in his hand, he gives himself a few pumps before spitting down onto his dick. He lines himself up and pushes in, he goes slow. Giving you barely just the tip and already he’s letting out this unabashed low groan as his eyes roll back.

“Oh fuck baby this is gonna be a tight fit,” he says in a deep lust filled voice, “Don’t worry kiddo Uncle Ezra’s gonna make her purr real nice.”

He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit with a quickness. Softly rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves, you feel yourself relax completely. Ezra pushes in a little bit more.

He might be immoral but he’s not a complete monster. He knows his pretty little niece is a pure virgin, he’s gonna make this unforgettable. He already knows she’ll come crawling back for more, he thinks to himself as a smirk crosses his face.

“Breathe baby, just breathe. Fuck you feel so good, tight little gash suckin me just right.” He coaches you as he finally pushes all the way in, waiting a few beats before he moves again letting you get used to the stretch.

You feel so full with his cock inside you and the dildo in your mouth. You can’t help but whine as you feel him throb inside of you. You pull off the toy,

“Uh-uncle Ez- Ezra please. Oh p-please move oh fuck I’m so full. . s’good.”

Hearing you moan and beg is all he needs as he starts to move and quickly finds a hard, fast pace.

Your mouth falls open into an O shape as the breath is completely knocked out of you as he starts to really fuck you. It’s too much but at the same time you want more. You’ve never felt euphoria quite like this. You go back to sucking on the toy so you can feel that exquisite full feeling again.

“ Ooh kiddo yea. Fucking hell that’s it baby oh fuck look at you. Got a cock finally inside this little virgin slit and you already need two dicks just to satisfy ya huh? Yea you do. Ho-hold on baby I gotta make sure I never forget this.”

His thrusts slow until he stills inside you as he reaches over to his shorts and pulls out his phone. Once he straightens back up behind you, he opens the camera on his phone and flips it so he sees the debauchery that’s in front of him on his phone.

“Yeaaa that’s it, show the camera how much of a nasty little slut you really are honey. Go on, show em how good your pretty little mouth sucks.”

You should feel shame. Embarrassment. You should beg him to not film you in this lewd act. But you can’t. And won’t. Something about him filming this makes you drip with even more want. Makes you want to do even more depraved, perverted acts with him. Maybe even after, the two of you watch your home movies as you lay in bed.

Ezra holds onto your hip with one hand as the other holds his phone as he drives his throbbing cock back in. He sets an unrelenting pace as he pounds into you.

You’re an absolute mess as you moan around the toy in your mouth.

He chuckles darkly, “Look at my sweet little niece. Letting her dirty old uncle pop her sweet cherry. Nngh oh fuck yea. Perfect fucking pussy squeezing me so tight. Look at my cock hungry little whore. I told you she’d like me baby, she’s so creamy, eating me right up.” His words abruptly ended by a moan he couldn’t help but let out.

“Ff-fuck yea that’s it, Uncle Ezra’s gonna cum in his cunt. It’s mine now baby she’s only gonna take my cock, my cum ya hear? Nnn oh fuck oh fuck let me feel you cum sweetheart, come on”

He reaches back down and quickly rubs circles on your clit and immediately your legs start shaking as you feel your orgasm crash over you. You let out a muffled cry, the toy in your mouth keeps you from yelling very loud.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck.”

Ezra chants and soon you feel him spurt hot cum deep inside you. He stills, cock still buried in your tight heat as he bends down over your back.

Ezra puts his phone down as he holds you for a moment, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder and down your back before he pulls himself out of you. You pull off the toy and slump to the side on the floor.

“Let’s get you cleaned up kiddo. How bout we go get some’ to eat? That sound good baby?”

You look up at him with a smile on your face, “Yea that sounds good.”

Ezra smiles back and with that he helps you up and takes you to the bathroom.

#ezra #ezra prospect #uncle Ezra #pedro pascal #spicy smut #pedro pascal cinematic universe #tw noncon #tw unclecest #pedro pascal characters #Uncle Ezra smut #ezra x reader #Uncle Ezra x virgin reader

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janeaustenbrandysmuggler · 3 months

Text

That comma

Or, connections my brain makes when I don't sleep well for over a week because of a cold - read at your own risk :)

"I went to one meeting ten years ago. They were wittering on about the Christmas lights and passed a resolution condemning the improper use of apostrophes on signs in windows." (Mr. Arnold, s2e5)

This line always makes me laugh because I get super twitchy about certain grammar and punctuation errors. But errors happen, and you can usually tell what someone meant vs. what they wrote, so you correct it in your mind based on what you presume they meant and move on because there are bigger things to worry about in the world. Right?

Maybe we shouldn't always be so quick to presume and move on, though. Sometimes, things are supposed to be written a certain way for a reason. That reason is important, so we're taught the right way to write that thing. We all learn how to do it, and it's generally not something we screw up because there are consequences for doing it wrong. Like an address, for example. Addresses tell something or someone where to go. Maybe to a pub called The Resurrectionist - that one's at 66 Goat Gate in Edinburgh, right? It said so on the record that Maggie gave Aziraphale:

The Resurrectionist

66, Goat Gate

Edinburgh

Except - there's this annoying little comma in there that I've been ignoring for months. Right after the 66. Exactly where it shouldn't be - not if you're writing a street address. So I'm going to stop ignoring it and ask a question.

Is this actually a street address? I'm not questioning that the pub is in Edinburgh - that's well-established. It's that middle line - 66, Goat Gate - that I'm not sure of anymore. I'm having trouble making excuses for that comma.

If it isn't a street address, then what is it? I'm not sure, and I don't know if we have all the information to figure it out. My sleep-deprived brain has come up with a couple of crazy questions and ideas though. Starting with - what if the Clue is actually multiple Clues? What if we've just been thinking about the pub, but that second line contains a separate clue or clues about Edinburgh, so that Aziraphale Knows Where [He's] Going? (see what I did there?)

These ideas do require an assumption that we shouldn't just take season 2 at face value, but they aren't tied to any specific theories like time loops, dreams, etc.

This post from onceuponathyme about references to the number 66 in the show and promo posters, and gallup24's comment that the press pass in Newspaperman!Aziraphale's hat also has the number 66 on it got me thinking about whether the "address" and the hat are meant to be connected. The references to the number 66 could be an easter egg - the Book of Revelations is the 66th book of the Bible. But is it an in-show clue, too? Is the 66 on Everyday single telling Aziraphale to wear it on his hat, maybe as a signal to someone? ("The clarinet, it makes beautiful music.")

Moving on to Goat Gate. It could still be the name of a road. I have two other ideas though:

We've already seen goats turned into crows. Gate is an old term that can mean road or street. Goat Gate = Crow Road? (I don't know that I love this, but I'll put it out there anyway.)

There's also the symbolism of goats tied to Hell, Satan, and Crowley in particular - drconstellation has a lovely meta about sheep vs goats, so I'm not going to go any farther into that. But I do want to stay on Crowley, and the second place we see Aziraphale - the cemetery.

Not quite this, but I can find a gif for just about every other part of the scene except for the line I'm looking for. The one where after a bunch of hilarious noises, he says, "Do I sound like a goat?"

And then, a short while later...

The ground opens up (a gate to Hell?), and Crowley disappears, pulled down to Hell. And then we get one continuous shot of Aziraphale turning around in that spot that starts in 1827 and ends in present day.

We still don't know exactly why Aziraphale went to the cemetery. Maybe "Goat Gate" is the clue that sent him there?

One final thing I noticed in that episode that feels a little off to me now - Crowley's reaction when Aziraphale calls and asks him if he remembers Mr. Dalrymple. "Oh yeah, not a doctor, a mister! Whatever happened to him?" It's surprisingly normal and relaxed, considering what happened at the end of the night, isn't it?

#sleep-deprived meta-ing #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens clues #good omens analysis #good omens 1827 #the resurrectionists #aziraphale #crowley

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allysunny · 4 months

Text

New Year's Kiss | Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ⁿᵃⁿᵃᵐᶦ ᵃʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᵈᵒⁿᵍ ᵉʳᶻʰᵃⁿ

Synopsys: You and your husband Nanami were invited to the Jujutsu High New Year party. You love him, and he loves you, and he's sure as hell going to let you know when he kisses you at midnight.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: Fluff! Good old-fashioned tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, suggestive themes (but nothing explicit), Nanami is an amazing husband as always, cw: Gojo Satoru, not proofread. If I'm missing anything, please let me know.

A/N: Hey everyone!! I realised I hadn't written anything for Christmas or New Years, and I was kind of sad about that. I might still post something Christmas related after this, just not sure which fandom I'll do it for.

Anyways this is something short I decided to write for y'all because I missed writing for Nanami so, so much, and he was the perfect person for this trope. I also had a lot of fun writing Yuji, Megumi and Nobara (you'll spot a few easter eggs from the JJK Official Fanbook!), they're all very fun.

I hope you guys enjoy it! I had a great time writing this!

“Yes, and he also had this weird mop of hair on top of his head – if you added a black streak, I’m pretty sure he could’ve been emo. He used to style it like this –“ Gojo went on making gestures with his hands, pushing his hair aside to form a quick side part. “And it’d be all over his eyes. And he always had this look of utter boredom on his face, quite like the one he has now, and – “

“Satoru, that’s enough.” Nanami sighed next to you, interrupting his coworker.

“Awww, but she deserves to know the total nerd she’s married to! You might be one good-looking hunk of meat right now, but I still remember the days when you were just a scrawny little boy who had never felt the touch of a woman.” Gojo went on with a huge grin, turning to you.

“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting something to drink.” Nanami gently took your hand and led you away from Gojo, who started to chase after you, rambling about your “former emo man”, but eventually gave up and searched for someone else to bother.

You chuckled into your hand and looked up at your husband, whose face was contorted in an expression of annoyance – you were far too familiar with that look, which graced his features whenever he came home from overtime missions, or any of his coworkers were involved. But you were also familiar with that same look fading away as soon as you give him some attention. Your husband is, deep down, first and foremost, a domestic man.

“A side part, Kento?” you smiled, releasing his hand momentarily only to hold onto his arm.

“Must we really discuss my questionable hairstyle choices right now?” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, which only amused you further.

You knew Jujutsu High’s New Year party would be a tough invitation for your husband to accept.

“Darling, I deal with them every day. Why would I willingly be with them on the last day of the year as well?” He said, taking off his glasses, an action he often did when tired. “All I want is to stay at home with my beautiful wife, cook some of her favourite dishes, and watch the fireworks from our backyard.” Unfortunately, no matter how many kisses he gave you, he couldn’t convince you to stay in.

“I want to meet your friends, Kento.”

“They’re hardly my friends,” he grumbled. “And you know them already.”

“Hardly. I want to meet the people you work with. You’ve met mine. What’s so wrong with that? Besides, it’s a party. I know it’s not really your thing, but there’ll be food and drinks, and it’d give us a reason to dress up.” Was your plead.

“We can dress up at home –“

“It’s not the same.” You pouted, placing both of your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to bend down and look you in the eye. “Please? It’ll be fun, I promise. And if anyone’s being too annoying, we can leave and cook up something at home. How does that sound? Please, Kento. Pretty please? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in a tux. I really like you in tuxes, you know…” Your hand dropped to his shirt and fiddled with its collar as you gave him you best seductive look. You knew your little games stirred him up often – that smart mouth of yours had landed you in trouble quite a few times (although you never complained), and you were counting on it to help you out right now.

Nanami only sighed and dropped his head in defeat.

“Fine.”

“Ah! Yay!”

“But we’ll leave if anyone crosses the line.”

“Deal!”

“And I’m bringing something of my own. Who knows what food they’re going to serve in there.”

“Alright, deal. I’ll help.”

With this said, he quickly bent over, hands coming to hold the back of your thighs and lifting you up. Your legs instinctively locked around his waist, and you laughed loudly, still cupping his cheeks.

“But I deserve compensation. Now, and then.” He murmured against your lips and swallowed your giggles as he kissed you deeply. Nanami would do anything to hear the sound of your laughter.

You held onto him tightly and he led you to the bedroom. The compensation was his, but you can’t say you didn’t enjoy it as well.

Which brings you to the present.

“Come on, cheer up. It’s just Satoru, he’ll get his hands on a cupcake or follow a pretty girl outside and leave us two alone.” You offered him a smile, but instead of returning you one of his own, his eye twitched slightly.

“Satoru. Sounds pretty friendly to me.”

The expression on his face was enough to make you break into a fit of laughter. Nanami was not usually a jealous man. He trusted you immensely and had never doubted your loyalty and love for him. But when it came to Satoru Gojo, he could get almost childish. “I don’t like how he looks at you, as if he could crack you, steal you away from me. He’s far too arrogant for his own good” he had revealed to you once after you’d ran into him at the supermarket. You could only smile and kiss him gently, promising there was nothing to worry about. No cocky white-haired man would ever take you away from him.

“Kento, come on. Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” The word hung off your lips with a tint of amusement to it, and he scoffed, looking away as pink coated his pale cheeks.

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like – “

“How he looks at me. Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard all that before.” Tugging on his arm, you made him turn in your direction, completely facing you. You ran a hand through his jaw and grasped his own, kissing his wedding band with such delicacy, it was almost surreal. “It was friendly, you’re right. Because that’s all Satoru and I will ever be. Friends. Hell – I can’t deal with him for more than 20 minutes straight. I’m not sure that’s very friendly.” This earned a chuckle from him.

“And there’s no need for you to be jealous. I chose you, didn’t I?” you smiled, and Kento’s hand slid from yours to cup your cheek.

“And I still can’t believe it. You’re my dream come true. I love you.” He pulled you towards him, but before your lips could touch, a cheerful voice could be heard calling out your name from across the room.

"Hello! Ah, Nanami-san! Good evening!” Itadori Yuji exclaimed with a smile, fiddling with his dress shirt to make it appear smoother.

You gave your husband an apologetic smile and turned to the young boy. You loved Yuji. You’d met him a few times, and quickly became very fond of the pink haired student. He had no one, no parents, no relatives, no family, so you sort of made it your unofficial job to look after him. He looked up to Kento an awful lot, and clearly saw you as a mother figure. In fact, he’d once even called you “mom” while asking for some salt when he was over for dinner one night. His cheeks had become pink, and he mumbled out a string of apologies before you just chuckled and said it was fine.

The boy wasn’t your own, but you treated him like he was.

Nobara and Megumi followed behind him, so you offered them a polite wave as well. The trio was always together, and although he fought hard to keep up his professional and cold exterior at work, you knew how proud Nanami was of his students. A big ball of mush he was, you knew that for sure.

“Hello there, you two. How are you enjoying the party?” you asked, knowing Nanami would prefer to keep to the sidelines.

“Oh, we’re having a great time!” Yuji replied with a bright smile. He lifted his hands, both holding onto two fried chicken pieces. “Have you tried the fried chicken? It’s to die for, although I’m sure Nanami-san could it better.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, that’s disgusting,” Nobara chimed in with a sigh. “Nanami-san, your red bean buns are incredible! Inumaki’s had like – what? Five, so far? He’s stopped saying tuna and will only say anpan, it’s incredible.”

The kids laughed and you laughed along with them.

“Thank you, Nobara. I’m glad you and the others liked them.” Nanami replied cordially. He still had trouble finding that balance between being a teacher and talking to his students outside of class – after all, he wasn’t as reckless as Gojo who behaved like an adult instead of a teacher. Discipline was needed in an educational setting. But you’d also taught him he needed to loosen up a bit, and he was sure trying his best.

“If you want to, I can give you the recipe. It’s fairly easy.” Was that a smile?

“Oh, really? Thank you so much, Nanami-san! I can’t wait to try it at home!”

While Nanami and Nobara discussed a few of the dishes being served, Megumi took the opportunity to silently approach you.

“Nanami-san?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand he was referring to you instead of your husband.

“Oh, hello there Megumi. How are you?” you offered him a sweet smile which he shyly reciprocated. Megumi was the quieter of the three, and you could see how much Nanami saw himself in his demeanour. It was fun to see how alike they could be, even if Megumi had been raised by loud and extravagant Satoru Gojo.

“I’m fine, thank you. I’m really enjoying the poetry book you let me borrow.”

“Oh!” you nodded. You knew him to be an avid reader, and since he liked mostly non-fiction, you decided to share some of your books with him. He was currently reading your favourite poetry book.

“I didn’t think it would be my type, but the way the author crafts imagery with his words, it’s just…” Megumi shrugged, trying to find the right words. “It’s fantastic.”

“Which poem are you on?”

“Last one I read was the one about the moon? The moon and the mountain?”

“Ah, yes! That’s Kento’s favourite,” you smiled again, glancing to make sure all was okay with your husband. He seemed to be deep in conversation with both Yuji and Nobara and your heart got all warm and fuzzy. “I like the one about the birds and the sea. I think it’s near the end though, so it might take a while for you to reach it.”

“Birds and sea. Got it.” Megumi nodded. “I’m having a hard time finishing it, actually. I’ve gone back and reread some of the poems I liked so far a few times. They calm me down. I don’t want to finish it and put it down.”

You gave him a quizzical look, then shrugged.

“You can keep it then.”

Megumi looked up, eyes wide in surprise.

“Wait – what?”

“Yeah! I mean, if you’re liking it so much, you can keep it.”

“But – Nanami-san, it’s your book.”

“And it has helped me a lot back when I needed it. Now it seems like you need it more than me.” You replied nonchalantly. It was true. That poetry book had helped you some dark times, but now it was time to pass the torch to someone else. Megumi was a very sweet kid, and very bright too. You knew he’d take good care of it.

“Wow, I… I don’t know what to say.” He mumbled. “That’s very kind of you, Nanami-san, but I can’t take it. It’s yours.”

“And now I’m giving it to you. So, it’s yours. Think of it as a New Year gift. Alright?”

Megumi smiled and nodded.

“Thank you.”

Just as you were about to reply, your husband gently held you by the waist and pulled you close to him. You got the hint, and decided to help him out.

“Well guys, it was great chatting with you three,” you said, smiling at them. “Kento and I are going to grab something to eat and then probably find a place to watch the fireworks.”

They nodded in understanding – they knew how Nanami was when it came to other people and didn’t want to bother him any further. Especially when he seemed to be so at ease with his wife. They thanked you two profusely before walking away, leaving you with your husband.

“They love you,” he said, turning you to face him and taking one of your hands in his.

“Well, I love them too. They’re great kids.”

“Yeah. That, they are.” You could tell Nanami’s eyes were gleaming with pride, and you hid a cheeky smile. You turned on your heels and walked towards the tables full of food, pulling him along with you.

“How about we get something to eat? I’m starving, and really want to try some of that fried chicken!”

The rest of the evening went well. It went excellently, in fact.

You got to meet Jujutsu High’s faculty, Masamichi Yaga and Shoko Ieiri (whom you’d run into a few times already), eat some nice food and exchange pleasantries with people your husband knew.

After a while, you two decided to retire to a calmer corner, since you knew how small his social battery was. And you couldn’t lie – you wanted your husband to yourself for just a few minutes. He looked far too handsome in that sweater of his (for a man who wears suits so often, seeing him so casually did things to you). Your tux idea was quickly discarded once Gojo announced that it was going to be something more casual instead of a formal party, but Nanami made sure to promise you he’d wear one for you soon.

You chatted for a while. About the party, about his coworkers, about his job and yours. When you first started dating Nanami, he was working as a salaryman, but that didn’t quite make him happy. He was all about being efficient and making money, but you could tell he was miserable at that 9-5 job of his. That’s when he quit and became a “high school teacher”. After a few months, he laid out the truth. Told you about cursed spirits, about what he truly did. It was hard to take in at first, and part of you thought he was insane, but it eventually sunk in.

Suddenly, the chattering around you two got louder and louder, and people started walking towards the doors.

“It’s 10 minutes to midnight! Everyone, let’s go outside!” Someone shouted and you took it as your clue to do the same. Nanami held your hand and led you outside, quickly finding a quiet spot among the trees that, while secretive, still allowed you a nice vision of the night sky, and the place where you presumed the fireworks would be in.

“Thank you for coming, Ken.” You told him, enjoying the intimacy the trees provided you two with. “I know you’d much rather be at home.”

“Nonsense. You know all I want is to be with you. I’ll be fine as long as I’m by your side.” He said, dropping his head to kiss your forehead. Your cheeks heat up. Even after all these years, a simple gesture as a forehead kiss could make you melt inside. You loved this man with your whole being, and you felt nothing but lucky and happy in this moment.

“I promise to make it up to you when we get home. Start the New Year on a good note,” you murmured, hands trailing the neckline of his dark blue sweater. Nanami dropped his head lower and whispered into your head.

“Oh, I’ll make sure you will. You might’ve forgotten, but I was promised compensation on two occasions…” His voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you clutched his shirt while letting out a shaky breath. The effect this man on you was crazy – something worth studying, because just his words could make you lightheaded.

A few meters away, you could hear people start to cheer and yell.

“5 minutes to midnight!”

You smiled.

“You know Kento, those kids really do look up to you. I think you’re their favourite teacher.”

“Hm.”

“I’m serious. You’re all cold and distant on the outside, but I know you have a soft spot for them. I see it in the way you look at Yuji.”

Nanami looked away, but not before you could see something like grief briefly flash through his eyes.

“He… He reminds me of Haibara.” He said, voice soft and low.

You knew about Haibara Yu, your husband’s best friend when he was younger. He’d told you about him once. How he was so lively and full of energy, how he could become friends with anyone instantly. How he couldn’t save him in the end. Even if you didn’t know him, it was clear the young pink haired boy would remind Nanami of his best friend.

You placed a reassuring hand on his bicep. “Hey,” you mumbled. “I bet he’s really proud of you.”

Nanami sighed and nodded.

“I just… wish he was here to see it.”

You smiled sadly, and took both of his arms on your hands, forcing him to turn to you. When he refused to meet his gaze, you held his face, forcing him to look into your eyes.

“Hey. He is. Can’t you feel him? He’s right here with us. And he’ll always be here.” You touched his chest, right above where his heart would be. Nanami looked down and wiped a tear that had fallen down his cheek.

“I love you. So much. You’re the light of my life, and I’m so grateful to have you by my side.” He whispered, kissing your hands.

“I love you too, Kento. More than you could know.”

“Thirty seconds to midnight!”

“I’ve really enjoyed this past year,” you smiled, taking his hand, and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Me too.” He replied.

“Ten!” Everyone cheered in unison.

“We truly did make some incredible memories together.”

“Nine!”

“And next year, we’ll make much more.” Nanami assured you. This time, it was him who squeezed your hand.

“Eight!”

You walked, taking Nanami by the hand with you. Your spot was nice, and you were sure you’d have a nice view of the fireworks, but better safe than sorry.

“Seven!”

When you two found another place you were comfortable with, he stood by your side, hand carefully wrapped around your waist. The trees were no longer hiding you two, and you could see just how many people were outside.

“Six!”

You grinned. What an amazing year it’d been.

“Five!”

Nanami squeezed your waist reassuringly. He loved you. So much.

“Four!”

A year had passed.

“Three!”

A year full of memories. Laughter, tears. Good and bad moments. Memorable and forgettable. It had been an incredible year for sure.

“Two!”

You were certain the next one would be too. As long as you had your husband by your side.

“One!”

“Happy New Year!” Everyone exclaimed, and suddenly, the sky burst into a hundred different colours.

Brilliant bursts of deep blues, radiant reds and shimmering golds painted the night sky, each explosion echoing in the distance. The symphony of loud booms was accompanied by the sounds of students and teachers alike cheering, yelling, and talking. The bursts of light illuminated the darkness, casting a fleeting glow on their faces and brightened the figures of those jumping around and expressing their joy.

You could only stare at the beautiful display in front of you. Swirling patterns and vivid colours painted an ever-changing masterpiece in the black canvas of the sky, turning into sparkling glitters before fading away gracefully.

Meanwhile, Nanami turned to look at you, taking you in. The lights contrasted on your face, and your eyes seemed to shine as you looked in wonder at the fireworks before you. How could he get so lucky? A beautiful, intelligent, kind, and caring woman. You were the whole package. And you had decided to love him and only him.

You caught him staring at you and giggled, but before you could open your mouth to speak, he’d done it first.

“I love you.”

You chuckled and furrowed your eyebrows. Still, he wouldn’t allow you to speak just yet.

“I want these to be the first words I tell you this year. I want these to be the first words I tell you every morning when we wake up, and every night before we go to sleep. I want these to be the words I tell you when I get home from a tiring day, or when I’ve achieved something I’m proud of. Thing is – I love you. Darling, I love you so much. And I want to say this as many times as I can. You are the greatest gift I could’ve ever asked for. You’ve saved me. I was empty before I met you. You’ve brought so much joy into my life, and nurtured my heart back to health, something I thought was impossible after I had witnessed so much death and loss.” Nanami took both of your hands, and you could see his eyes were sparkling with tears.

“What I’m trying to say is – I love you. I’m a better man when I’m with you. You make me a better person. I want these to be the first words I tell you this year, tomorrow morning, tomorrow night, and whenever I can. I will tell you how much I love you until the end of time, because you are everything to me.”

You looked at him through tear-filled eyes. After such a heartfelt confession, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t think any words could ever express just how deeply you loved Nanami Kento. No words would ever be able to capture your feelings, and just how far you would go for this man.

So instead, you let your actions speak for you.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down to you, kissing him. He was quick to reciprocate, tongue coming up to trace your lips, which you gladly parted. His hands were resting on your waist and bringing you impossibly closer to him. You poured your heart out in this kiss, letting it tell your husband all you knew words couldn’t.

And by the way he was kissing you back, you knew he understood.

After a while, you two parted for air.

Chuckling, you moved his blonde locks out of his face so you could look into his beautiful hazel eyes.

“I love you, Nanami Kento. I would walk to the end of the world for you. I don’t think any words can describe what you mean to me, but I promise to try. And if words aren’t enough, then I’ll show it to you, every single day, for as long as I live.”

Nanami brushed a strand of hair from your face, and kissed you once again, this time softly, as if you were sealing a secret promise.

Maybe you were.

“Happy New Year, my love.”

“Happy New Year, Kento.”

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Nanami deserves the absolute best. I wish you all an amazing year, and I hope you have an incredible day!

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