#and just finished my novel on my lunch. NOW what???

[inkchwe]

so high school | 𝖑𝖍𝖘

୨୧ pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 6.8k ୨୧ genre: fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: basketballplayer!heesung, nerd!reader, tutor!au, high school au, oral (f + m receiving), penetration (all characters are of age!), light choking ୨୧ synopsis: You and your boyfriend are complete opposites on paper—you, the girl hidden inside a book, and Heeseung, the star of the basketball team—but it feels so right every time you’re together.

Heeseung at the free-throw line, certain he will make the basket and win the championship, turns to look at you in the stands. The sounds of his coach, taunts from the opposing team, encouragement of his teammates, and commotion of the final game of the season all fade into the background. To him, all that matters besides the ball in his hands is you.

You, amongst the others in the crowd with their hearts in their mouths, have no fears for your boyfriend. The star player who’s going to make history has never given you doubts before in his talents. All you can do is smile, incredibly proud and incredulous at the thought that he is all yours and nobody else’s.

It’s almost unimaginable how the two of you found each other, coming from completely different worlds. But like all stories, similar to the ones you’ve read since childhood, the story of you and Heeseung has a clear beginning…

AUGUST

“Do you ever stop to—I don’t know—not read?” Jungwon asks, jotting down notes in his notebook.

You giggle and flip the page. “It’s the last book on Choi’s summer reading list. Besides,” you retort, looking directly at your best friend, “how else would I be able to read and still remember what you just said to me if I didn’t practice?”

“Fuck off.” You lightly knock his shoulder with yours.

Even though it was still very early in the school year, you still had a lot to concentrate  on with the month coming to an end. Like the first novel Mrs. Choi selected on her extensive reading list. You planned to discuss it with the members of the school’s book club, your notes already tucked in your backpack for today’s Friday meeting.

Now, sitting with Jungwon in the hallway as you eat your lunch, your focus is solely on finishing the last fifty pages of the last book in the list Mrs. Choi created. Jungwon closes his notebook and gets up from his spot next to you. “Alright, I gotta head to Chem.  I’ll see you after school!” With a wink, he runs down the hallway and disappears down the corner.

Who you don’t expect to pop up next to disturb the sudden quiet of the surrounding area is Lee Heeseung, star shooting guard for the school’s basketball team. You never spoke to him before, but his reputation and family’s legacy preceded him. His brother was the shooting guard for the team years ago, breaking numerous records before he graduated. Now, Heeseung’s definitely filling his brother’s shoes and then some.

As a person, however, you know nothing about the boy at all. This year, though, you shared the same English class with Mrs. Choi. She cared little for his extracurriculars or persona around campus; what mattered to her was the effort of her students and the quality of the classwork.

Heeseung passes you by on his way towards his destination, not sparing a glance. You sit attentively as he knocks on Mrs. Choi’s classroom door.

She answers after a moment, a somber smile on her lips. “What can I do for you, Mr. Lee?”

He clears his throat and asks her, “You saw my message and I—“

“I am aware, Mr. Lee. My response still stands. Is there something else you need?” Mrs. Choi sees you out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t acknowledge your snooping.

“I will do anything to correct my last assignment. Please,” Heeseung begs.

“Mr. Lee, the cutoff for submissions was last week. I’m sorry, but your grade is final.” She sighs and looks at her watch.

“There’s nothing I can do to bring it up before the first game?” Heeseung asks, his voice growing thin from his frustration. He’s not rude, but clearly disappointed he isn’t getting his way with his big eyes and pleading words.

“How about this? I’ll tell Coach Sung you’re working on a paired project to make up the grade.”

“Perfect.” Heeseung breathes a sigh of relief before he takes in the rest of her sentence. “Wait, who’s my partner?”

Mrs. Choi extends her arm out to point in your direction. Immediately, you want to tuck yourself in your book and hide. You did not intend for your interest in their conversation to put you right in the middle of it, and now you wish you hadn’t feigned curiosity at all.

“She’s one of my best students, so you’re in great hands.” She turns her head so both you and Heeseung can hear her. “I’ll send both of you the information for the project later today.”

You didn’t notice Heeseung had kept his focus on you until you broke your stare-off with Mrs. Choi. Her lips are upturned in a secret smirk when you turn your attention to him.

Heeseung isn’t bad to look at, the definition of his muscles peeking out of his shirt in multiple places and his brown hair falling into his face. Each piece of his physical being represents the epitome of a Greek god’s form. But the fact neither of you had ever interacted up to this point is what scares you more than his intimidatingly good looks.

When Mrs. Choi gently closes the door, Heeseung awkwardly walks over to your position, towering over you. Ironically, his presence physically embodies your feelings towards him, this stranger now being shoved into your life.

“I’m Heeseung.”

You give him a close-lipped smile and extend your hand out to him, your name leaving your lips immediately. Displaying fake confidence, you hope he can’t tell how terrified you are.

His eyes brighten when his hand touches yours. You stand up, hand still in his, and the feeling of his palm against yours causes you to fumble your next words. “S-so I guess I should give you my number. I mean so once we get the assignment—“

Heeseung smirks. “Usually girls flirt a little more before asking for my number.”

You scoff and tuck your book closer. “I was offering to give you mine, actually. For educational purposes.”

The noise of his laughter fills the small corridor. “Right.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly feeling annoyance creeping under your skin. “Well, if it’s that hard to swap information, you can find me after school in the library.” You walk away, but Heeseung follows quickly behind.

“I have practice once the last bell rings.”

You look at him with serious eyes, not bothering to stop your stride towards the stairs. “Tell Coach you can’t make it.”

“Are you nuts?” Heeseung says, eyes wide.

You smirk. “You have to get your grade up to play, right?”

You watch the clock in the library with scrutiny. Members of the book club have been gone for half an hour, but you chose to stay behind. School let out an hour ago, and yet you’re still holding out hope Heeseung will come. But every minute that goes by proves you have to face facts: you’re now forced to collaborate with a stereotypical jock.

Mr. Kim, the head librarian, puts the disorganized books on the shelves as you tap your pencil on the table. “Waiting for someone? You don’t usually stick around this late,” Mr. Kim says with a smile.

You grin back, the sentiment not reaching your eyes. “You could say that.”

After another ten minutes of silence, you give up. You begin packing up your belongings, shaking your head and mumbling to yourself the entire time. Curse your interest in the guy and his lack of care for his academics. No wonder his grade was in the tank already. What was the point of athletics if he didn’t have other prospects to fall back on?

Just as you’re walking out of the library, Heeseung runs into you. Sweat’s dripping from his forehead and his breaths are labored. Clearly, he chose basketball over your project. You want to punch him for putting you both in this position.

“I swear I was going to blow off practice,” Heeseung says, but he can see your doubt in his words on your face.

“Sure. How about this? Figure out how to do the project on your own.” You press your body into his to push him out of your way. He follows in suit and rubs the spot you shoved, pretending to be wounded.

It only fuels your ire. You’ve only spoken to the jerk twice and you’re already tired of him treating every word you say and feeling you have like a joke. “Is failing that amusing to you?”

Heeseung’s expression immediately goes cold. “I’m not failing.”

“Sure. So Choi’s just doing this to torture you.”

He weighs his response in his mind before answering. “I may not be perfect, but Choi is really hard on grading.”

“That first assignment was just about what your future looks like after high school.” You push your backpack over your arm. “Excuse her for thinking you had plans outside of throwing a ball around a field.”

That laugh of his may just be the end of your life. He chuckles hard and puts a hand out to stop you. “First of all, that’s football.” He tries to make you look at him directly, but you refuse, too angry to give into what he wants. 

He continues anyway. “Second, basketball is my life. Past, present, future, okay? Without it, I don’t even know where I’d be.”

His voice is sincere, more honest than it’s been before. Regardless, your understanding and disappointment is evident. “Don’t you think that that’s the problem?”

“It hasn’t been one before. Suddenly I say it out loud and it’s an issue?” Heeseung’s voice raises a decibel, clearly agitated and back to his cold exterior.

If he wants to fight about this, you’re game.

“No,” you say, matching his vocal level. “The issue is that your focus is solely on basketball when there’s more important things in life than a dumbass court and sweaty guys trying to make touchdowns.” 

“You’re mixing up your sports analogies, angel.” Heeseung steps closer, testing your boundaries. Your chest heaves up and down, your breath labored. You may just slap him if he gets closer.

“You know what I mean.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” A fraction of his expression slips. His eyes challenge you in both irritation and anxiety. The bravado’s merely a mask for the fear that he’ll lose the one thing he wants the most in this world. And did you have it in you to be the reason he couldn’t have it?

You sigh and rub your palm across your forehead. “Tomorrow, meet me at the marketside pier. 8 AM. Take it or leave it.”

He releases a humorless chuckle. “You’re not gonna make this easy are you?”

“Not on your life.”

Heeseung is there at one of the pier’s wooden picnic tables with his materials sprawled out when you arrive at 7:45. You weren’t expecting for him to be there on time, much less earlier than you. The sun reflects off of his hair, turning the brown curls almost orange. Like the first time you saw him, you can’t help but be reminded that he is painstakingly attractive.

You give him a shy smile and put your backpack down next to you.

“I can tell you’re surprised,” Heeseung says with a small smile.

“A bit, yeah.” You unzip your bag to grab your English textbook. “I thought on the weekends you typically do…’fitness stuff.’” He laughs at your air quotes.

“Well, to be honest, I wake up at 6 AM every morning for drills with my dad.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Like you said, my sole focus is on that damn ball,” Heeseung says, opening his own textbook. “But I want to change that.”

“So you can keep playing,” you remind him, teasing the poor guy.

“Half true,” Heeseung says. “But I shouldn’t have left you hanging, yesterday.”

You nod. “I appreciate your apology.” You grab a pencil from your bag, pushing on the eraser until the lead pops up. “And I shouldn’t have been so judgmental. You have to be good at stuff besides basketball, even if it’s not studying.”

“Hey! I’m doing well in all my other classes, thank you very much.” You both share a minute of laughter. “But, to be honest, I do like to sing.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, Troy Bolton.”

“For real! One day, I’ll take you to karaoke. I won’t make fun of you if you can’t keep up with me.”

“Okay, we’ll see.” You direct his focus back on to the page. “Now, onto Shakespeare.”

SEPTEMBER

Although Heeseung took his sweet, laborious time to translate and understand Shakespeare’s old English, the project went off without a hitch. Mrs. Choi was even surprised herself, in disbelief you pulled such an expansive and well-thought analysis out of the quintessential jock.

Now, it seemed the best next step to keep Heeseung on the right track was to sit him right next to you. Your initial partnership continued to benefit him in both his success in English and focus on academics, possibly for the first time in his high school career.

Better than that, he may have found a new friend in you that he wouldn’t have had otherwise.

By the end of one Tuesday class, Heeseung asks you to have lunch with him and his friends, a request that makes your previous seating buddy in English, Yujin, freak out.

Both her and Jungwon corner you on your way out when you tell them the news.

“No fucking way,” she whispers excitedly, slapping you on the back with vigor.

“That hurt,” you moan.

“Are you prepared?” Jungwon asks, smirking.

“Prepared for what?”

“The lion’s den, dude! You’re gonna be with not just his douche friends, but also the cheerleaders, other sports players…be prepared for the worst,” Jungwon grumbles.

“Oh shut up, Won!” Yujin threatens to hit him too, but he retracts. “Have fun on your pseudo first date.”

“It’s not a date!”

By the time lunch comes around, you hold yours with shaky hands, searching the lunch courtyard for the jock’s table. You usually sat with Jungwon or Yujin in the hallway of the English department to eat. Now, you’re a small fish in a big pond, waiting to be eaten alive.

Was it, in fact, a date, like your friends hypothesized? Did you have to try and impress Heeseung more than normal? Did you want Heeseung to take you on a date, real or fake, to begin with?

"Hey!"

Heeseung waves you over with a confident but over-exaggerated arm, flapping it wildly so you notice. He didn't need to do that, though; you could pick out his voice in any crowd.

You walk over with a smile and sit down, feeling small next to the strangers you had not met until this moment. The basketball team's not unwelcome, but they are awkward at your sudden presence at their usual lunch table, even if Heeseung made it known beforehand that you would be hanging out with them to eat.

He says your name and introduces you to his friends. "And that's Sunghoon, Jeongsong, and Jaeyun." You recognize the last two, Jay and Jake. Jake, the strikingly blonde one, has Chemistry with you this year. He smiles and tips his soda can at you in acknowledgement.

"Hee was telling us you’ve been saving him this term in English. Choi can be a pain in the ass, am I right?" Sunghoon and Jeongsong share a laugh, but you bristle at the comment.

"Not really," you say. "Choi sponsors my book club, so we have a good relationship. I think that's why she wanted me to whip Heeseung into shape in the first place." You elbow Heeseung in the side, and he grins in response.

"She's probably right."

"Book club kid, huh?" Jake asks. "Haven't been one of those since elementary school."

Jake's comments make the entire team laugh. Your cheeks turn pink and Heeseung takes a sip from his drink, his posture stiffening in the process.

"It's not a bad thing though," Jake interjects amidst their laughter. "Books are fun."

"A bit nerdy, though," Sunghoon comments.

A girl next to Sunghoon smacks him hard in the arm, but he just pokes his tongue at her.

Your anxiety spikes sitting there with all of these people, your gut feelings a reminder that they’re all a part of Heeseung’s world, not yours.

You clear your throat and stand up from the table. “I forgot to say, Hee, I have to do something for Choi anyway.” Heeseung’s face turns down at the corners. The only audible response you receive is from Jay and Sunghoon in the form of snickers.

”Run along, pet,” Sunghoon comments with a smirk.

You hope your eyes give the offense you won’t bother saying out loud. Fuck off, asshole.

When you make it to your usual lunch spot, Yujin and Jungwon are surprised to see you walking down the hallway.

”What happened?” Yujin asks.

”Exactly what Won said was going to happen,” you confess, sitting down in a criss-cross position beside her. “Now give me your chips.”

When the end of the day comes around, Heeseung catches you on your usual trek to the bus. “You’re forgiven, by the way.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What did I do?”

”You left me alone with my shithead teammates! I needed you there for backup, y’know.” He smirks and grabs your backpack from your shoulder to put around his arm. “I’m sorry about them. Sunghoon, mostly.”

”Can’t believe you’re friends with that guy,” you mumble.

”He’s the only one who I’m not friends with, truthfully. The others are cool. They’re just not used to new people.”

”I never would have guessed.”

Heeseung’s laugh is hearty, with a dazzling smile to match. You can almost forget the heap of embarrassment you felt earlier when you look at him like this, carefree and youthful.

“Anyway, let me give you a ride,” he offers, pointing to the senior parking lot. His car is freshly washed, its coat of paint identical to the school’s colors of blue with silver accents.

”What will your friends say?” you ask with a fake gasp.

”Fuck them. Besides, you’re also one of my friends. Now let’s go.” He takes your hand to walk in the direction of his car, not releasing your palm until you’re at his passenger side door.

As you give him directions, your mind goes back to the labels you had been running through in your mind all day. Were you Heeseung’s friend? Yes. Did you want to be more? Surely he didn’t just ask anyone to have lunch with him and his friends if he didn’t have other intentions, right? So, in that case, did yours match his?

A part of you wants to say yes, but the rational piece keeps you in check. It’s ridiculous to expect more than a friendship. How could you when it was so obvious your worlds were so far from each other, your friendship a simple fluke? You were grateful for his presence in your life, knowing without him it would be a bit darker, but would it last?

Yet here you were. Sitting happily in his car, hair blowing in the wind as his thumb grazes the outside of your hand, you try to enjoy all the time you do have together.

OCTOBER

”This is ridiculous!”

”Come on, just try it!”

”When did I ever say I was good at sports?” You groan, holding the ball in your hands with nervous fingers. The basketball court at your local park is occupied only by you and Heeseung, but it feels as though there’s a thousand people in the metal stands watching you, waiting for you to mess up.

”You said if I passed the last test you would let me show you how to make a free throw.” Heeseung has his hands in his pockets, his letterman jacket flapping in the autumn wind.

“If I suck at this, you’re never going to talk to me again. Just watch.” You try to dribble the ball across the court, but it falls between your legs before you can travel any further.

Heeseung puts his face behind his hand, clearly chuckling to himself. You scoff at him and the response you saw coming the second he put the ball in your hands. “See? I told you you would think I’m embarrassing!”

He raises his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just cute, that’s all.”

”’Cute’ is probably the nicest way you could say I’m embarrassing.” You kick the basketball in his direction. He catches it without any effort, his face still shaped in a state of enjoyment.

”I said cute because I meant cute, you dork.” He steps to the free-throw line and motions for you to join him. You do, grumbling and grunting the entire way.

”Now, you have to relax. The only way you have half a shot at making the basket is if you stop tensing up.” He hands you the ball again and steps behind you.

He puts his hands on your hips. his palms soft against your hoodie. You can practically feel the heat of his skin through the material of your clothing, and you hope he can’t tell how much your heartbeat has spiked from him being so close to you.

”Next thing is to bend your knees. They can’t be locked up.” You listen to his words, trying not to focus on how his body is making yours react. You may be imagining it, but even his voice sounds a bit breathless from the small distance between yourself and him.

His lips are ghosting over your ear when he says, ”Now shoot.”

You release the ball from your hands, hoping the angle of your throw and Heeseung’s directions will prove you’re partially competent. 

And sure enough, the basket makes it in a single whoosh. You turn in Heeseung’s grasp, releasing a happy cheer. “That was amazing!”

You feel the rush of the shot in your veins, but suddenly the only thing that makes your body hum in pleasure is the sudden crash of Heeseung’s lips against yours.

Unsure how to react, you stand there frozen in place as his mouth moves on its own accord. But slowly, surely, happily, you fall deeply into his embrace. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and feel the press of his tongue against your mouth, begging for entrance.

You comply, letting the feeling of him and the thrill of this private moment in both of your worlds fill you to the brim with quiet pleasure and happiness.

[LHS] Can we talk, please?

[LHS] Did I do something wrong??

[LHS] IDC if you don’t respond. I’ll keep texting until you say something…

[LHS] Don’t leave me hanging :(

You sigh and throw your phone to the other side of the bed, tucking your comforter closer to your chest. Deciding to stay home from school was probably not the best way to handle your problems, but just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you’re sensible all the time.

This weekend’s excursion with Heeseung was beautiful, no doubt. But the fears continued to creep in with little regard for how happy he made you that day or all the days that came before it. Would how he felt about you last any longer than his basketball season? Did he entertain this simply for the fact that it was entertainment and nothing more? 

The thoughts had been too much when you said goodbye to him on your doorstep with another hasty, giddy kiss and all the hours following it. Maybe you were self-sabotaging, but it was better to manage expectations now than be crushed in the aftermath.

When Yujin calls you during lunch, you have half a mind to ignore it. You answer anyway to avoid your friends thinking something drastic happened.

”Hello,” you mumble, the effects of your late morning nap hitting you.

”Dude, Heeseung’s on a tear today. He even asked Jungwon where you were, and I didn’t even think he knew the kid existed. What the hell happened on Saturday?”

Before you can respond, you hear the sound of your doorbell. “I gotta go. I’ll tell you later.” You hang up, hastily grabbing your fuzzy robe before running downstairs.

You don’t bother looking through the peephole to see who it is, but you curse yourself for not doing so when you’re confronted with Heeseung. He’s a sweaty and panting mess, but he doesn’t care for his appearance. His face morphs into relief when he sees you staring back at him.

”Thank God,” he says before stepping closer to you. He runs his hand over your forehead, frowning. “You’re not sick.”

You shake your head.

”So, you just ignore me all weekend and then don’t show up to school today?”

You sigh. “I didn’t know what to say when I saw you.”

He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing. “So you chose not to see me at all? Was kissing me that terrible?

”No!” You run a frustrated hand through your hair, the spot in your hallway suddenly too cramped. You push him back outside and close the door behind you. “I don’t regret it at all. And I’d do it again if I could.”

Heeseung smirks at that, clearly happy with your response. “So, what’s the problem?”

”The problem is that when you get bored of me, things won’t go back to normal for me like they will for you, Hee. You may think this is a game but—“

Heeseung’s sudden laugh is marked with a bitterness. His eyes grow serious, so much so your words stop short because of his stone expression

”Do you think that little of me?”

Your body tenses at his words, unsure how to respond. You have never thought of him as lesser than once, not since getting to know him. But maybe only looking at your feelings regarding your relationship compromised his own in the process.

He steps closer, your faces an inch apart. “Two months ago, I didn’t realize how much my life was going to change because of you. All I thought about before was basketball. And now, you’re one of the only things outside of that damn game that matters to me. When I haven’t talked to you or seen you for too long it’s like there’s this rock in my gut that I can’t get rid of. I kissed you because I wanted to, not for fun or because it’s this momentary thing.

”So, if you still think I’m going to get bored of you in a few days or weeks or months, then you really aren’t as smart as I thought you were, angel. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Breathless would be too small of a word to describe how his speech affects you. You feel the same buzz of his kiss from a few days throughout your entire body from his words alone. It makes every worry and fear that has plagued you evaporate, replaced with his promises and all the reasons you should jump in headfirst without another thought.

So you do.

You kiss him hard, crashing into his lips and hoping all of the feelings he harbors reflect in the actions of your mouth. You hold onto him with your hands on his neck and the smoothness of your lips in a beautiful rhythm with each other.

Whatever happens next, you know there’s no turning back now.

NOVEMBER

“And Sim, our prime point-guard, passes to Lee. Lee has ten seconds to make another three pointer and win the game. Will he do it? Time to find out!” Kim Sunwoo screams into the microphone, broadcasting the highlights of the semi-final game to the many listeners not attending in-person.

Lucky for you, you have the perfect spot in the stands to watch Heeseung make the winning basket and lead the team to victory.

The crowd roars when your boyfriend secures the team’s spot in the championship game. His teammates lift him up above their heads and shoulders, chanting his name and holding him with all of their strength. Heeseung immediately searches the crowd for you, his excitement fueling his newfound focus.

When he does see you, clapping your hands and cheering with the rest of the bystanders, he kisses the inside of his palm and shoots it in your direction like he’s making another basket. Your heart squeezes at the gesture, but you only blush and wink.

Ever since that day on your doorstep, you can’t seem to separate yourself from him or the feelings he stirs up inside of you. The thought and reality of not seeing or hearing from him for too long immediately dampens your spirits, just like Heeseung described to you when he confessed. Jungwon calls you “lovesick fools” every time you both are in his presence, but it’s not that. The love you feel for your boyfriend is one that strengthens every sense, impulse, and desire. Without it and him, that’s when you feel the weakest. And every time Heeseung smiles at you or holds you close, you can tell he feels the same.

Whether your worlds were the exact same or as different as they possibly could be, you both made your own perfectly fit for just the two of you.

The outside world has to creep in every once in a while, though.

At the end of the night, Heeseung’s arm is wrapped perfectly around you as you walk. You discuss your shared plans for the night and subsequent weekend since your parents are away at a work conference. Heeseung stops short when he sees his father waiting at his car with crossed arms.

“Good job, Hee,” He says first and foremost. “Saw you lost a bit of steam in the third quarter, though. We’ll have to do some more conditioning before the final.”

And there it was. The judgment you saw so often in conversations between Heeseung and his father that made you ache for the boy you loved. As his father, he should’ve been proud to see his sons succeeding, one of them off and playing for a world-renowned team and the other on his way there. Instead, all they received was judgment. It wasn’t your place, but you couldn’t wait for the day Heeseung stood up to him.

“At least I made the winning basket, right?” Heeseung shrugs off the criticism with a laugh and holds you closer. “We have to go eat, so—“

“Of course.” His father moves out of your way. “Lovely to see you again, darling,” He says to you with a small smile as he opens the passenger door for you. You return his greeting, suddenly uncomfortable with how close he is.

On your drive to your house, you try to help Heeseung destress with a hand on his thigh. “Don’t let him get to you,” you say sadly.

He smiles and gives you a knowing stare. “I’ve been dealing with him my whole life. He doesn’t have that power anymore.” He takes your hand from his thigh to hold it tightly in his own palm. “Besides, I’m one step closer to the championship and I got my girl next to me. Nothing’s getting in the way of my good night.”

You set your backpacks down at the door when you step inside your house. Heeseung follows you to the kitchen. While you’re finding the flier with the number of your favorite takeout restaurant, Heeseung presses his lips to your neck. The trail of his kisses going from the back of your ear to the start of your collarbone makes you shiver.”

“Hee,” you warn him. “We won’t be able to eat if you keep distracting me.”

“Food is the second priority,” he responds, lips feathering your skin. “Right now, we need to celebrate the championship.”

“The championship is still three weeks away.”

“If we both know I’m going to win, what’s the point of delayed gratification?” He pulls the sleeve of your shirt down to expose the top of your shoulder, kissing that area too to make your body thrum with pleasure.

“Speaking of that…” You turn to face Heesung, pressing your back against the counter. “I guess we can celebrate something tonight besides your impending win.”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow.

“I got early acceptance to Sky.”

Heeseung’s eyes immediately light up at your announcement. He pulls you in by the waist and spins you around the tiny space between your kitchen island and the fridge.

When the topic of college came up, it was as good a time as any for the two of you to discuss your future plans with each other. As fate would have it, Heeseung planned to play for Sky University’s basketball team next year, and you were waiting on your official acceptance letter when you both started dating.

Now, Heeseung would have the two most important things to him in the next chapter of his life. The boy’s over the moon, as any other person would be.

Heeseung lifts you over his shoulder, immediately heading in the direction of the stairs to take you to your bedroom. He laughs off your mock protest.

He knows for certain he’s in love with you. It may not be the perfect time to say it, especially before he’s about to ravish you, but the perfect time will come when it feels right.

He doesn’t say it when he strips you bare for only his eyes as he kisses you senseless, shocked and grateful your body is for him and him alone to see and cherish. He doesn’t say it as you kiss every inch of his bare chest to send him into a rambling mess of praises and curses.

Somehow, stupidly, the words slip out when your mouth is wrapped around his cock, tongue flat against the underside of his tip as he feels the back of your throat against him.

“Fuck, I love you so much.”

The air stills, both your bodies going rigid at the sudden confession that has just left his lips. But, instead of running scared, you take your mouth off of him and stare deeply into his eyes, smiling wide. “What’d you say?”

Heeseung breathes out a sigh of relief, suddenly taking your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the second I saw you in that hallway. I just didn’t know it yet.”

You giggle and press another kiss to his lips. He sees a tear leave your eye, and he wipes it away gently with his thumb. “I love you, too, Heeseung.”

You fall back into a steady rhythm of kissing and touching, Heeseung’s hands roaming the skin of your stomach, the swell of your breasts, and the cleft between your thighs, making you moan.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” Heeseung whispers against your lips.

He lays you flat on your back, kissing what areas he hasn’t touched yet with his hands. He needs you to know, in every moment, he chooses you and will never stop choosing to be with you.

If he had to make the choice to either give up the game or you, he would choose the former in a heartbeat. His dad, his friends, and even fate may say it’s young love and you haven’t been in his life as long as basketball has, but they don’t see him the way you do.

Even if he doesn’t say it out loud, he knows he doesn’t have to. 

When Heeseung finally presses his lips to your clit, kissing the nub with adoration, your legs shake at the contact. You instantly run your fingers into his hair. “Fuck,” you curse, the word rarely slipping from your lips save for moments like these.

The first time you had been together, Heeseung didn’t know exactly how to touch you without being terrified it was too much. But now he knows all the ways to turn you into a beautiful mess.

He licks languidly across your center and through your folds, keeping the perfect pace for you to ride your hips against his mouth. He inserts a finger into your entrance after coating the digit in the arousal already pooling at your center. You, typically so put together, are ready to fall apart at the simple press of his mouth against you.

Heeseung knows he can get you off this way, without question. And most nights, he doesn’t mind when you’re the only one who receives pleasure. But tonight, you moan out a request that he can’t say no to.

“Heeseung, please. I want you inside me when I come.” He doesn’t have to be told what to do twice when it’s the best command he’s heard all night.

He takes your mouth in his, holding your jaw in his hand and slightly applying pressure to the side of your neck. A half-empty moan leaves your lips at the sudden contact. To him, the sounds that you make are their own form of poetry, better than anything you’ve read to him all year.

Heeseung quickly grabs a foil packet from your bedside drawer to put on himself, protection being the one thing you can’t forget in the midst of your desire for each other. Lining himself up with your entrance, he thinks you could not look more beautiful with your half-lidded eyes and eager hands grabbing onto his hips to finally push him inside of you.

When he does ease in, he swallows the curse prepared to leave your mouth with his lips. It’s an indescribable feeling, the stretch and pull of your walls taking him in completely. Although you’ve been together many times before this night, it’s still a novelty Heeseung does not take for granted.

He takes his time establishing a rhythm, loving the pants and whimpers you emit because of him and for him. He holds his hand on your throat, his thumb going into your mouth for you to wrap your lips around in a lewd manor.

“Ah, fuck,” you say as he snaps his hips, filling you to the hilt. “Just like that.”

He feels his orgasm in his gut, threading further up his body as he snaps his hips harder and faster, moving in and out at a faster pace than normal. You don’t mind, scratching lines down his back as you cling to him. You’re both reduced to a heap of I love you’s and satisfied sounds, and it could not be more perfect.

“Fuck, Hee, I’m coming,” you say in the form of a promise, one so precious he wants to hear it every day.

The flutter of your walls around him as you fall apart pushes him to his own end, releasing into the condom with a guttural moan. He kisses you deeply before separating from you, running to the bathroom to throw the remnants of your lovemaking into the toilet and clean himself up.

You hold your arms out to him, ready to have him back by your side. He grins and kisses the crown of your forehead.

“Think about all the nights we can do this next year,” Heeseung whispers into the dark.

“I can’t wait,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his sweaty chest. “I love you.”

He grins happily to himself, the words a thousand times more powerful leaving your mouth. “I love you, too, angel.”

With your body curled into his chest, your heartbeats matching in tempo, he thinks no amount of championship wins could compare to the love he’s found in you.

DECEMBER

The basketball feels light as air in Heeseung’s hands, incomparable to the feeling in his chest looking at you. His teammates can tell he’s staring directly at your position in the stands. They wonder how his mind is still so occupied by you, even amongst the sea of spectators waiting for him to either succeed or screw up

Little do they realize, you’re the exact reason he’s going to win the title.

As he looks in your direction, he takes the shot without second-guessing himself. He hears the faint gasps of some attendees and even his coach, but the following swish of the basket in the hoop tells Heeseung all he needs to hear. And all he needs to see is your beautiful, proud face as the gym explodes into cheers.

You’re the best and truest thing he has in this world. He knows he’s a champion, in both the traditional and figurative sense. With you by his side, he’ll always feel like the winner of every game he’ll ever play.

[mildmayfoxe]

NOT to brag but i’ve finished five books in the past week

[demigod-of-the-agni]

The year is 20X1, 23 years since Polaris and Sigma Octantis were last sighted at the celestial poles. Intrinsic expansion of space has increased dramatically over the past few decades, leaving our bubble of the observable universe awash with infinite darkness, the light of every star beyond our reach. If you are lucky, you might catch a glimpse of the rings that now circle above us, accompanying networking satellites and casting a glow brighter than our moon. The shattered bones of Tara Devi, numen of stars, now orbit us in place of the long-gone celestial bodies. If you catch sight of her face, do not fear; simply return home and go back to sleep, and if possible, ignore the pleading that may accompany you.

by Dhruva V. | 29 April 20X1 Broadcast: Sundered Skies

[hedgehog-moss]

Pampérigouste escaped today and I almost didn't make a post about it because it's just more of the same isn't it? do people who read this blog really want to hear about yet another Pampe escape? Then I thought, that's like asking if people who read detective novels really want to hear about yet another mysterious murder. Probably yes. Also Pampe would have been offended to have such a successful escape go unreported.

I would like to say that my new fence is still fully Pampe-proof. She has not escaped a single time through breaking or outsmarting the fence, so now she does it by outsmarting me. Which doesn't happen all that often, because we are intellectual equals. But I let my guard down this morning—I'd just peeled some greenhouse carrots to make purée and I went into the pasture to distribute the peelings even though it was raining (see how I got punished for my selflessness?), and I left the gate open because I was right in front of it, obstructing it with my body.

Pampe dropped her carrot peelings and acted like she couldn't find them even though they were right under her feet, so I took pity on her and crouched down to gather them and offer them to her again (see how I'm getting punished for my compassion??) and she took advantage of this diversion. In the span of 0.2 seconds she slithered around me and she was out. It was a little bit beautiful. I don't know if you remember this photo of Pampe & Pyrgus, but it's a perfect illustration of what happened:

I sighed and ignored her and finished distributing the peelings to the other animals, and then went to the barn to get muesli to lure my nuisance back to her pasture. After escaping she initially ran towards the woods, but since I ignored her the whole time, she emerged from the woods when I returned, like, wait, did you notice I escaped? Behind your back, just earlier? Did you notice how I won and you lost?

It shouldn't have been difficult to get her back into the pasture with the help of her favourite snack; unfortunately Pampoldine is still a big baby who was distraught that her mum had left her behind yet again (she should be used to it, honestly, it's been like this since she was an infant), she started making these little panicky noises that Pampe has never paid any attention to—

—so when I propped the gate open with a branch to get Pampe back inside, Poldine hurried out instead. I wasn't expecting this, I thought it was clear that I had the situation under control and her mum would be back in 5 seconds. You could have just waited 5 seconds, Poldine.

Pampelune had no interest in escaping, but she's the matriarch and where her herd goes, she goes, so once the other two were out she barrelled past me as well. I opened the gate to bring 1 llama in and instead 2 llamas went out. Pirlouit besides me was like

For some reason the llamas galloped towards the road, instead of just hanging out in the woods where there's stuff to eat. Maybe because Pampe hadn't gone out in a long time and she wanted to be admired for her feat. Her wish was granted—2 cars stopped to say hi as I was miserably trotting after my llamas on the road in the rain. One of them was the post office lady who once herded my animals out of a pasture with her car, and she was like hop in, it'll be like old times!!!

The two people who stopped their car were enchanted with the encounter and they both told me that they missed the days when Pampe Sightings on this road were a regular thing. No one sides with my fence in the Pampe v. Fence conflict. I love the post office lady though, she had a Niagara song playing in her car when I got in and a minute later I muttered "I'll sell her to the butcher" and she started singing "Pampe ♪ Je vais devoir te vendre au boucher ♫" to the tune of that song. It fit the tune really well, too.

After we managed to get the llamas off the main road and back in the woods, she was like, godspeed, I wish I could continue chasing them with you but I have to go make lunch for my kids. I told her that now that the llamas were no longer on the road I'd just let them roam, they'll come home before night, no way I'm going to chase after them in the woods in this dog weather. So I went home and grumpily resumed peeling carrots and potatoes for my mash.

I sat in front of the window to do it so I could keep an eye on Pirlouit, who was wandering around the pasture like a cursed soul, drenched with rain, lonely and llamaforsaken. Sometimes he brayed to try and guide his friends back home, wherever they were, but he never brayed while I was filming. His braying is a poignant display of emotion and is not for public consumption.

I figured, if the llamas come back Pirou will spot them and perk up his immense ears, and I'll know to go out and open the gate. Instead at some point I looked up from my potatoes and saw my donkey finally at peace, grazing rather than pacing restlessly, and I went to look outside and his friends were back! And so was his appetite.

I had new peelings + some muesli to offer, but of course Pampe could tell this offering was a crude and blatant trap and refused to fall for it. Meanwhile her innocent daughter was like yay, snacks :) and followed me in the pasture, a llama entirely devoid of wiles.

After I got Poldine back inside I went like WELL since NOBODY else wants that delicious MUESLI I guess these deserving chickens can have it—and Pampe was here in the blink of an eye to shoo the hens away from her muesli.

She was grudgingly smiling about it, too. Like, point for you.

I love this pic where my chicken looks like she's herding the animals back in their pasture all by herself.

Everyone is home! Pampe and Pandolf are walking away in search of new adventures, Poldine follows her mum because of her abandonment issues, and Pirlouit is also following everyone very closely, like, I'm not getting left behind again.

I finally managed to cook my mashed carrots & potatoes (+ herbs from the greenhouse) and it's so nice to make food with nothing but ingredients you grew yourself! (To be completely honest I only managed to grow 3 carrots in the past few months but that's because I neglected them in pursuit of more flashy summer vegetables)

I also had an apple-plum compote for dessert made with my own fruit <3 Okay, the cheese course in between was store-bought. One of my friends really wants me to get goats and be self-sufficient in cheese and when I told her I would be constantly chasing my goats over hill and dale because they have a reputation to be insufferable escape artists she was like, what difference will it make to your life...

[hxxsxxng]

to have and to hold - lee heeseung ❦

「pairing」 : husband!heeseung x fem!reader

「word count」 : 1.3k

「genre」 : fluff. fluff. FLUFF.

「summary」 : heeseung always pays attention and remembers the little things, and his love language is definitly all of them.

「warnings」 : no warnings!

「authors note」 : this is the first part of the FROM THE HEART❦ series!

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I curled up on our plush sofa, my favorite book in hand and a steaming mug of tea on the side table. The soft pitter-patter of rain against the window created the perfect ambiance for a cozy afternoon at home. As I flipped to the next page, I heard the front door unlock, and a smile tugged at my lips. Heeseung was home.

"I'm back!" his melodious voice called out, followed by the sound of shoes being removed and keys jingling as they were placed in the bowl by the door.

"In the living room," I responded, not looking up from my book just yet. I was at a good part and wanted to finish the paragraph.

I heard his footsteps approaching, and soon felt the sofa dip as he sat beside me. A gentle kiss was pressed to my temple, and I finally tore my eyes away from the pages to look at my husband. His dark hair was slightly damp from the rain, and his eyes sparkled with warmth as they met mine.

"How's the book?" Heeseung asked, nodding towards the novel in my hands.

I marked my place with a bookmark and set it aside. "It's getting really good. The main character just discovered a hidden passage in the old mansion."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Sounds intriguing. Though I hope it's not giving you any ideas about tearing up our walls to look for secret rooms."

I playfully swatted his arm. "Don't worry, I'm content with our secret-passage-free apartment."

Heeseung's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Speaking of which, I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes."

Curiosity piqued, I did as he asked. I heard him move away and then return a moment later. "Okay, you can look now."

I opened my eyes to find him holding a small, gift-wrapped package. "What's this for?" I asked, taking it from him.

"Just because," he replied with a soft smile. "Go on, open it."

Carefully, I unwrapped the gift to reveal a beautiful leather-bound journal. The cover was embossed with intricate designs, and when I opened it, I found the pages were lined with tiny constellations.

"Heeseung, it's beautiful," I breathed, running my fingers over the smooth leather.

"I remembered you mentioning that you wanted to start journaling," he explained. "And I know how much you love stargazing, so when I saw this, I knew it was perfect for you."

My heart swelled with love. It was just like Heeseung to remember such a small detail from a conversation we'd had weeks ago. "Thank you," I said, leaning in to kiss him softly.

As we parted, my stomach let out a low growl, causing us both to laugh. "Hungry?" Heeseung asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded sheepishly. "I may have gotten a bit too engrossed in my book and forgotten about lunch."

“Okay c’mon, take a break from the book and we can cook some food together” he suggested, slowly taking the book away from my hands. “How about stir-fry”

"Sounds perfect," I agreed.

We fell into a comfortable rhythm, chopping vegetables and preparing the sauce. Heeseung hummed softly as he worked, a habit I'd grown to love over the years. As I reached for the soy sauce, I accidentally knocked over the bottle of sesame oil.

"Dang it" I exclaimed, watching in annoyance as the oil spread across the counter.

But before I could even move to clean it up, Heeseung was already there with a cloth. "Don't worry, I've got it," he said, quickly wiping up the spill.

"My hero," I said dramatically, placing a hand over my heart.

He grinned, tossing the cloth into the sink. "Always at your service, my lady."

As we continued cooking, I couldn't help but marvel at how in sync we were. Heeseung seemed to anticipate my every move, handing me utensils before I even asked for them and moving around me with practiced ease.

Once the stir-fry was sizzling in the pan, filling the kitchen with delicious aromas, Heeseung turned to me with a glint in his eye. "How about we have a little fun while we wait?"

Before I could ask what he meant, he pulled out his phone and hit play. The opening notes of our favorite song started to play, and I couldn't help but laugh as he started dancing, gesturing for me to join him.

I hopped down from the counter and took his outstretched hand. We twirled around the kitchen, our socks sliding on the smooth floor as we moved to the beat. Heeseung sang along, his voice harmonizing perfectly with the music.

As the song came to an end, he dipped me low, both of us breathless and giggling. "I love you," he said softly, his face inches from mine.

"I love you too," I replied, my heart full to bursting.

The timer on the stove beeped, bringing us back to reality. We reluctantly separated, and Heeseung turned his attention to the stir-fry while I set the table.

As we sat down to eat, I couldn't help but smile at the sight before me. Heeseung had arranged the vegetables on my plate to form a smiley face, just like he used to do when we first started dating and I was feeling down.

"What's got you smiling?" he asked, noticing my expression.

I gestured to my plate. "Just appreciating your artistic skills."

He laughed, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. "Only the best for you."

After dinner, we settled back onto the sofa, this time with our gaming controllers in hand. It had become a tradition of ours to spend our evenings playing video games together, alternating between cooperative and competitive games.

"Ready to get your butt kicked?" I teased as we booted up our favorite fighting game.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. "Big words from someone who lost the last three matches."

"I was going easy on you," I retorted, selecting my character.

~

Later that night, as we lay in bed, I turned to face Heeseung in the dim light. He was scrolling through his phone, but set it aside when he noticed me watching him.

"What's on your mind?" he asked softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

I snuggled closer to him, resting my head on his chest. "I was just thinking about how grateful I am for you. For us. For days like today."

I felt his arms tighten around me as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Me too," he murmured. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here with you."

As I drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Heeseung's embrace and the love that filled our home, I knew that this, these quiet moments, these small gestures, this deep understanding between us, this was what true happiness felt like.

And I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

taglist: @jakeflvrz @simpjay @slutforjaeyun @rayofsunshineeee

[sserpente]

By Chance

Synopsis: The very first time you meet Eddie the Freak Munson, it’s because you found his bracelet on the floor and decided to wear it, and he claims to have lost one just like that.

The second time you meet, he is absolutely flabbergasted because you are the only one outside of Hellfire who wants him to sign their yearbook.

The third time you meet, he’s feeding you drugs through a sloppy kiss before making you see stars.

The fourth time you meet, he is all but taken aback that you greet him with a boyfriend-and-girlfriend-kiss in plain sight of some other former Hawkins High students, thinking that you, just like all the other girls, would want nothing to do with him after one hot and high night together…

A/N: Just a couple of ideas that had been ghosting around in my head on digital paper. Enjoy!

Words: 4880 Warnings: drug use, alcohol, smut, RC has parents in this one, drunk driving

A/N: Both Eddie and RC are over the age of 21 in my stories.

The first time you met Eddie Munson, it was in the school cafeteria. You were new in town, damned to finish your high school years at a later age due to unforeseen circumstances in your past. Let’s just say it involved the military, an illegal weapon deal, you and your family being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a witness protection programme. Not exactly the funniest years of your life but here you were now, significantly older than all the other students trying to keep up with everything you had missed when one fateful day, you found a leather chain bracelet on the floor in the hallway near the boys’ bathrooms.

You figured it looked cool, so, instead of throwing it away, you decided to wear it. Little did you know it belonged to Eddie The Freak Munson himself who, as it turned out, was absolutely gutted he’d lost it. He ended up in line to get his lunch right behind you that day and of course, he instantly noticed the edgy accessory on you when you reached for a cup of chocolate pudding.

“Cool bracelet.”

You’d be lying if you said that the other students hadn’t “warned” you about him. But being old enough to legally buy alcohol, you were long past the silly idea of popularity in high school, knowing that once you were out of that building for good, no one—literally no one—cared anymore. Respectively, you turned around to smile at him.

“Thank you.”

“I had one like that too. Lost it recently,” he added a little distraught, underlining his words by throwing a single peanut in his mouth. Your eyes widened.

“Oh my god, what? I found that on the floor in the hallway the other day! It must be yours!”

And just like that, Eddie blinked and then frowned at you as if you’d just sliced the tyres of his van. “Why are you wearing it?” he asked—carefully, if not suspiciously.

“I just thought it looked cool. Here, take it back,” you announced, unclasping it from your wrist to hand it to him. “I’m glad it seems you didn’t lose it after all.”

“Yeah, uh… it was a gift from my uncle, so… it means a lot to me.”

You could have imagined it but you were pretty sure that you received something like an electrical shock when your hands touched.

“That’s sweet. Good thing I didn’t throw it away. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Eddie. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you around too.”

And that you did. Every day. You did have a few classes together, after all, and sooner or later you realised that you kept stealing glances at him. He was fucking handsome—a classic metalhead with an affinity for fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons, so you soon found out, and of course, a renowned bad boy selling drugs right under the noses of all the teachers which, strangely enough… did not hinder him from finally graduating that year. It turned out that 1987 was his year and to call what he pulled off at the graduation ceremony a show would have been an understatement and you certainly couldn’t stop clapping and cheering along with his friends when he did flip the principal the bird and acted like he’d just won the gold medal instead of his diploma. That man was a chaotic rockstar in the making, you just knew it. In fact, you were more excited for him than you were for yourself even though you had barely spoken after the bracelet exchange.

Unfortunately, apart from his beloved Hellfire club as well as two freshmen called Dustin and Mike, everyone else in the school just seemed to be happy to finally be rid of him—Miss O’Donnells the most, you figured.

So when it was time to get those last few signatures in for your yearbooks and students rushed from person to person with markers in hand, Eddie was left out entirely.

You guessed that this was why nothing prepared him for the very moment you approached him and two of his friends—Jeff and Gareth, you believed—and held your yearbook out to him.

“Hey, Eddie. Care to sign my yearbook for me?”

It took him a second to process your words, you could tell. “Me? You want me to sign your yearbook?”

“Of course.” And you meant it, if anything to have an excuse to speak to him again.

Eddie took your yearbook from you with slight hesitation, flipped the front page open and then, using the red ballpoint pen he must have been using for his friends’ yearbooks, scribbled something in yours.

You couldn’t wait to read what he’d written when he handed it back to you. Another moment of silence followed.

“Do you… want me to sign yours as well?”

“Uh… yeah… if you want.” Jeff and Gareth were a lot more suspicious than Eddie was, perhaps thinking you’d write something nasty in his. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what you were writing in it. Instead, and you could practically feel his curious brown gaze on you, he wouldn’t stop staring like you were some sort of hallucination.

The truth was, he probably didn’t quite know what to make of you. You’d never been part of a specific clique ever since your arrival and hence socialised with whoever circumstances put you in close proximity with. They’d all seen you with Jason and the others a few times—and given how the basketball team treated Hellfire, it was not short of a miracle they all radiated a pinch of hostility toward you.

Eddie almost flinched when you shut his yearbook shut and gave it back to him. “Thanks.”

“Thanks to you as well. After your stunt on stage, I have no doubt that you’re gonna be the next Ozzy Osbourne. I wish you and your band all the best, I’m sure you’ll rock it.”

Jeff and Gareth blinked. Incredulously so. Eddie on the other hand gave you a sheepish grin. “Thanks,” he said again.

You figured there was nothing else going to come out of his mouth—and you hoped that your phone number that you had scribbled into his yearbook and which he still hadn’t noticed yet was going to give him a broad hint.

That’s why your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you suddenly heard him calling after you. “We were going to, uh… celebrate together just outside of the town centre tonight. You know… snacks, dru- I mean drinks, music… care to come?”

It was only when you turned back around that you noticed Jeff and Gareth looking downright shocked at Eddie’s invitation. The head of the Hellfire Club appeared genuine though. And with those sweet puppy eyes, how could you turn him down? You simply could not, even if you had wanted to.

“Oh, I always fancy some snacks and dru- I mean drinks.” You grinned at him. “Should I bring anything?”

“If you want. Don’t have to though. Do you have a car or… should I come pick you up?”

“If it’s not too much trouble? Here, let me give you my address.” Using your pen from before, you snatched one of the napkins from one of the tables (almost wiping an empty champagne glass from the surface in the process) to scribble your address on it.

You decided to make brownies for the occasion. They were spiced with rum to add a little bit of flavour and dressed in your edgiest outfit before Eddie came to pick you up. To say you were excited was an understatement, for despite being generally friendly with everyone, you hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends in Hawkins yet.

Funnily enough, however, you were not even in the least surprised that Eddie drove straight to the infamous Reefer Rick house near Lover’s Lake. The entirety of the Hellfire Club, excluding the two freshmen, were there, along with a couple of other friends of Rick’s you didn’t know. It wasn’t a proper party per se—although they did have music but given Eddie’s taste and looks, it was metal blasting through the speakers for the most part.

“You’re insane, Munson. Who is she again?” Rick hissed into Eddie’s hair, grabbing his upper arm as you walked past and you took in the dimly lit boathouse. The atmosphere here was great. Foldable tables held a large selection of snacks, with two massive pizzas from Surfer Boy’s Pizza taking up the majority of the space. Another table was filled to the brim with so much alcohol you feared it would all topple over if someone attempted to remove one of the glass bottles. The fishing boat swaying in the water unsurprisingly took up most of the space in the boat house. Only for the occasion it had been repurposed to a cosy-looking lounging area and covered entirely with several layers of blankets and pillows.

The most prominent feature of this small get-together, however, was the smell of weed—and you were certain that those rolled little cigarettes were the most harmless drug Rick had on offer tonight.

“You’re telling me you invited the girl who found your bracelet a few months ago to a party at my house? What if she calls the cops on us?”

“I don’t think she will.”

“I brought brownies,” you offered, holding them out to him with a smile. Both Rick and Eddie blushed when they realised you had been able to follow their conversation over the loud guitar riffs.

“Oh. Thanks. Welcome to the party then.” And that was that. You set the homemade dessert on the table and had Eddie pour you your first drink of the evening.

“You know, it took me a hot minute to figure out you’ve written your phone number in my yearbook,” Eddie admitted after a few drinks and some casual chatting.

“Oh.” You chuckled, following up with a wink. “Well, I figured I’d take my shot.” Eddie had skipped prom, of course, not buying into the whole idea of wearing a suit and awkwardly asking someone out only to dance to shitty music and drink non-alcoholic punch in the school’s stinky sports hall.

It was a shame really—you would have loved to have seen him in a suit. Besides, you figured that the real reason Eddie hadn’t been to prom was because he’d been unhopeful any girl would have wanted to show up there with the town freak who was regularly accused of satanic rituals.

Well, you would have. But you ended up going with your classmates from chemistry class who had all sworn they didn’t need a man to have a good time. Which was also true.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, offering you a sweet smile.

“Why did you invite me? We’ve barely spoken all year and Rick is not wrong.”

“Listen, sweetheart… no one—and I mean no one outside of Hellfire has ever asked me to sign their yearbook for them. It might not sound like a big deal to you but you decided to come over to me despite what everyone else must have told you about me.” Sweetheart. Now that was a reason for your heart to skip a beat. The rising alcohol level in your body did the rest, of course, but you were far from drunk yet.

As of right now, Eddie’s hair was even messier than usual from headbanging to the latest Metallica hit that had come on after Rick had yelled “To our new graduates, Jeff, Gareth and Eddie!”. He was still a little out of breath. You were resting on the boat now, watching him giggle at a filthy joke Rick had just pulled and it was then you decided there and then that tonight was going to be the night. All good things started with a kiss, right?

Eddie must have noticed you staring at his lips. He took another draw from the cigarette he was smoking and then held it out to you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Want a draw?”

“Sure. Bring it on.”

Before you could close your mouth around it though, Eddie pulled away again, making you crawl closer to him in a confused manner. “Wait a second. You’ve… smoked before, right?”

“Duh,” you gave back. “Yes, I have. Never done anything stronger than weed though.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Just making sure you don’t throw up all over the boat.” Eddie didn’t hand the cigarette over. Instead, he brought it to your lips with his fingers, watching intently as you took a draw. The taste was just as awful as you remembered but it got the job done quickly. You relaxed, feeling more daring after only minutes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You stared at him matter-of-factly. It clearly confused him. You took another draw when he offered the weed to you yet again but this time inching even closer to him. His lips parted when you didn’t move away from him. “Can I kiss you?”

The metalhead grinned like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his ringed hand to your face to stroke your cheek and then, his mouth was on yours. Eddie kissed you softly and patiently, seemingly enjoying this first taste as much as you did. After you parted, you both smiled and as the night proceeded, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other anymore.

Eddie insisted on taking you to his place instead of staying at Rick’s, and after some initial protest that he too had had alcohol and shouldn’t be behind the wheel, you agreed to slowly drive back to his place. Fortunately for the both of you, you both made it out of this risky mission alive and you soon plopped yourself down on Eddie’s bed.

His room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes and cassettes along with handwritten song lyrics on crumbled paper were scattered everywhere, along with the odd guitar pick and lone sock. The walls were plastered with posters of metal bands as well as some maps and other drawings he must have made for his D&D campaigns.

His uncle wasn’t home—Eddie claimed he was pulling night shifts and that you had the house all to yourself. Which was certainly a good thing. You weren’t exactly quiet in bed and you had no doubt that you’d make use of those condoms sitting on his nightstand tonight.

Eddie grinned, turning his back to you for a moment. Then, he got rid of his battle jacket and leather jacket almost at the same time, kicked off his shoes and joined you on the bed wearing only his ripped trousers and a washed-out band shirt.

He was quick to take the initiative now that you had made the first step. Eddie leaned down, his hair tickling your face, and lowered his lips to yours to kiss you again, without any unwanted eyes watching you both this time.

He tasted like the weed you’d been smoking and the fatty pizza you’d all been munching on. His kisses were consuming, you had learned this much quickly. You sighed when his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing yours gently all the while his right hand went on an exploration quest, repeatedly stroking over your side.

Joyful anticipation of what would happen next flooded you like a hurricane, your body all of a sudden annoyingly aware of the fact there were way too many layers separating you both still.

It was then you felt the small pill on Eddie’s tongue that he passed on to you, gently biting your lower lip before breaking the kiss. You closed your mouth with wide eyes, returning his eager grin as he hovered above you.

“It’s ketamine,” he said, still grinning, “Rick got a new batch, fancy pill form. Nothing like anything else you’ll ever experience.”

You swallowed it down. “Shit. How long does it take to kick in?”

“With how strong that dose is I’d say about fifteen minutes. Thought you’d better have your first trip safely without accidentally drowning in the boat house at Rick’s.”

You hummed.

But what was the point of waiting around for it to kick in? You wanted Eddie. Now, and regardless of the drugs. Biting your lower lip, you pulled him back down to you and crashed your lips against his, kissing him ferociously.

“You’re wearing too much,” you announced out of breath when you had to pull away for oxygen.

“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”

“Hmm… we should do something about that, then.”

You both giggled like children. Eddie scrambled out of bed to get rid of his clothes, only leaving his plaid boxers on all the while you peeled yourself out of your shirt and your trousers.

“Do you know how to take off a bra?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

“You wound me, sweetheart.”

“C’me here and prove it then.”

He was on top of you again before you could blink, hands wandering behind your back as you arched it for him so he could take it off for you. He did in fact have no trouble whatsoever getting that last piece of clothing between your naked skin out of the way. When he tossed it out of bed, it landed straight on the neck of his acoustic guitar in the corner. Eddie chuckled but he soon gasped for air quietly when his brown eyes fell on your bare breasts, nipples hardening from both the sudden temperature change and your growing arousal—and perhaps the drugs, too. You could feel them kicking in now. It was like you were walking on clouds. Like everything you did was wrapped in cotton candy and each and every one of your senses was heightened.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way even though surely this wasn’t his first time on ketamine. In a haze, he cupped your breasts with his hands, kneading them gently all the while you tugged at the hem of his boxers, not failing to notice the growing bulge in them. Eddie’s erection sprung free when you pulled them down as far as you could in your current position, taking in his length. Damn. You didn’t have a lot of dicks to compare him to but you certainly liked what you saw.

Reluctantly, the metalhead let go of your breasts to reach for a condom. You moaned at the loss of them at the very same moment you started feeling like you were floating. Shit.

“I am craving ice cream right now.”

“You are?”

“Yes! I could eat three. No, six! You know what? Let’s go and have ice cream tomorrow!”

“At the mall?”

“At the mall!” you repeated, almost yelling the words. You blinked. Fuck. You were so high. Eddie grinned when he realised. You wriggled out of your knickers and tossed them out of bed with your foot. Utterly naked before him now, you watched him with your lower lip sucked between your teeth as he rolled the thin layer of latex onto his length and then positioned himself between your legs. You spread them even further for him, inviting him in.

“We can always stop, you know that, right?”

“Eddie…” You pulled him down to you, shutting him up with a sloppy kiss. The drug was really kicking in now and making out with him was like a whole new experience altogether. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. You needed him. Now.

You doubted he was still a virgin when he guided his member into you with skilled movements, slowly pushing in inch by inch without finishing instantly. You wouldn’t have minded to take a break and then try again but right now, the ketamine in your body was making you impatient for lust. Impatient for him.

“Move, Eddie, move…” you whispered, throwing your head back in the process. The metalhead obeyed. Slowly at first, he began to thrust up into you, each and every single movement eager and on the verge of madness.

You were an entanglement of sweaty limbs within a matter of minutes. Panting and kissing, you didn’t know where Eddie ended and where you started. You moved together rhythmically, your legs wrapped around his hips as he kept rutting into you.

It was the very first time you felt your arousal climbing higher and higher, that familiar knot of pleasure in your core tightening without any additional stimulation whatsoever. Surely, that was because of the drugs. It must have been because of the drugs. Eddie hit every single pleasure spot hidden deep inside of you but normally, even that was not enough for you to slip over the edge. Not so today. You could already feel your orgasm approaching, your toes curling and your cunt tightening around him.

Eddie groaned. “You going to cum, sweetheart?”

The sound that escaped your lips didn’t even remotely resemble a yes. So you nodded with your lower lip between your teeth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You shattered underneath him like a piece of glass, breaking into a million pieces scattering across his room.

Moaning his name, you dug your nails into his naked back and pulled him even closer to you. Eddie didn’t stop. On the contrary, he sped up. His strokes were erratic now, uncontrolled. Eager for his own orgasm, as you pulsed around him times and times again, you felt him tense up and then, find his release.

After a few more thrusts he stilled, burying himself as deep inside of you as he possibly could and shot his load into the condom. You wished you could have felt it, wished you could have felt him coating your still lazily contracting walls instead. Next time. There was always next time.

And fuck… that was quite possibly the best sex you’d ever had.

When you woke up the next morning, memories of last night came flooding back to you like a tsunami. Your head rested on Eddie’s chest. He’d draped his blanket over the both of you after he’d gotten rid of the condom—or simply threw it on the floor to be precise—and then cuddled up with you to keep you warm, to keep you safe while this trip lasted. You were almost a little disappointed you had sobered up now but the aftermath lingered like the taste of a particularly sweet strawberry on your tongue.

You opened your eyes, inhaling Eddie’s scent. Cigarettes, alcohol, leather and a little bit of sweat… it made for an oddly attractive mix. Unfortunately, however, your blood ran cold as soon as you spotted the time on the watch on Eddie’s wrist.

“Eddie! Wake up! Eddie, come on!”

He grumbled—and you wanted to kiss him senseless for being so cute and sleepy—but your parents must have been worried sick by now. Besides, you felt a little nauseous. Certainly the after-effects of the ketamine. You were lucky you weren’t hugging the toilet at the moment.

“What? You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay but I need to get home.”

“Huh?” Finally, he cracked an eye open. Another moment passed for him to take the time to wake up. You chuckled.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh, and I feel gross.” You needed a shower—and a change of clothes. “I need to get home and freshen up, and my parents are probably wondering where I am. Let’s meet at Starcourt? Around three?”

You wanted nothing more than to lazily wander into the kitchen and have a coffee and breakfast with him before doing what you did last night all over again—sober this time. But by now, his uncle was probably home too. You’d have to do that as soon as you got your own place. Then you could be fucking all day long and… you swallowed.

“Uh, yeah… sure. Three.”

“Alright.” You beamed at him. “I’ll see you there then.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed naked and gathered your clothes. Eddie grinned when you blew him one final kiss before you left the room fully dressed.

You had to admit it got a little awkward when you ended up walking straight past Wayne Munson who was at the kitchen table with a coffee and the morning paper in hand. There was absolutely no doubt the man new exactly what Eddie and you had done last night.

“Uh… morning, Mr. Munson.”

“Morning?” You didn’t need to explain. Well, Eddie did but not you, not right now. So you only gave him an apologetic smile and hurried out the door because three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You couldn’t stop grinning. Not when you apologised to your parents for worrying them and not calling, not when you took a shower, not even when you got some sustenance in to chase away the residue of the drugs and the alcohol in your body.

At around two thirty, you put on some make-up and then practically darted to the bus station to make it to Starcourt in time. Eddie was waiting for you already when you arrived. He leaned against a pillar near Scoops Ahoy wearing his usual attire, with one leg propped against it. His face lit up when he spotted you—only to darken only a fraction of a second later when he saw Jason and his laundry basket crew approach, instantly alert.

You paid them no mind. So you only nodded at Jason in greeting and then hurried toward Eddie, wrapping your arms around him to give him a long and passionate kiss.

“Hey…” he breathed out when you broke apart. Eddie blinked at you, incredulous at what you’d just done—almost as if you hadn’t had sex on a high last night.

“Hey. What’s… wrong? Are you alright?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine, sweetheart.” He glanced at Jason who kept on staring at you as if you’d just sacrificed a sheep to a demon. You shrugged your shoulders, interlaced Eddie’s fingers with yours and dragged him inside the ice cream shop.

“What do you want? I think chocolate chip mint is the best one but cherry sounds nice too. Pick whatever you like, it’s on me.”

Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you. “No, no, sweetheart. This is a date. I’m paying.”

“No you’re not. You can pay next time. You know how much the stuff you gave me…” You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “…you gave me last night normally costs. I’m paying.”

Eddie smirked at you—you just wanted to kiss him all over again. “Cherry and chocolate chip mint, how about that?”

“I like the way you think.” So you ordered and then made yourself comfortable in one of the booths to munch on your ice cream. Eddie glanced behind him and then, all of a sudden, he had that unbelieving expression on his face yet again.

“Okay, what’s up? Something’s up. Did I say something? Did something happen?”

“I just… didn’t expect you to want to be in public with me.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” It was you who had incredulousness written all over your face now. Your heart dropped to your feet. “What… do you mean?”

“The girls I hooked up with before, from school… they didn’t want anything to do with me after they’d gotten laid by the freak,” he admitted. “Granted, there weren’t that many but still.” Your lips parted. Shit. That’s why he was acting all surprised. You had just snogged him in front of the entire former basketball team, after all.

Of course that raised the question of why he would invite you to that party in the first place if he’d suspected that you’d only wanted some free drugs and to be able to claim you’d fucked the freak to find out if he was just that in the sheets as well. But there was always hope. Hope that it could be different this time even if it was all subconscious. You suppressed a sigh.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I want that?” you asked so you wouldn’t pause for too long.

“Don’t know. I’m just used to it, okay?” he said with a fake smile, scooping up some of his ice cream.

Oh. And now he was overwhelmed and flattered and touched and confused and… and he didn’t know how to act. You scooted closer to him in the booth, leaning against his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a shit about what the other people think, Eddie. I was in a rush this morning because I didn’t tell my parents I’d probably spend the whole night out. And I said I felt gross because I hadn’t showered and because the remnants of the drugs made me feel all icky. Not because I regret what we did. Actually… I can’t wait to do it again.”

Eddie’s face lit up. He grinned. “With or without drugs?”

“Both.”

In other words, that cheeky metalhead was your boyfriend now. And you’d be damned if you didn’t tell the world that you were his girlfriend.

[trblsvt]

for the books | jeon wonwoo

summary | wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with. genre | fluff, teacher!au warnings | none, i think let me know! word count | 2.2k words pairing | jeon wonwoo x fem!reader min | lowercase intended i literally put off my other works to write this! delulu era to the max! i advocate for women in stem!!! also! this is like an american high school-level setting. lily is so out of pocket LOL (believe it or not there is a girl just like her at my school). this was 100% self-indulgent

"mr. jeon!" his student lily called. "so you're telling me that after all that, she still hasn't kissed him?" he looked up from his desk and looked over to his obviously distraught student. "lily! i didn't even finish it yet!" her friend mina yelled at her.

"i'm sorry! it's just so crazy how they didn't even kiss! even after they made up and he said all of that to her!" lily huffed.

"what did he say to her? i haven't gotten there yet either," daniel piped in.

"just read it! i'm sorry i brought it up in the first place," lily sighed and pulled out the worksheets she was supposed to complete after reading the book. he shook his head and went back to inputting grades into his computer. it was silly to think lily was just going to do her work. "mr. jeon, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked putting her pencil down. he paused momentarily, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "dude, that's so not cool for you to ask mr. jeon," daniel complained.

"what? we're reading this romantic novel, is it not fair to ask our english teacher if he's in a relationship?" lily replied, crossing her arms. "i mean we have to be reading this book for some reason."

"maybe it's just a part of the curriculum," mina rolled her eyes.

"do you seriously think mr. jeon is sending us subminimal signals about his love life through the books we're reading?" daniel asked.

"i don't know! maybe!" lily said. the three of them continued to argue back and forth at their table. wonwoo should probably stop this before the other students get irritated with the trio. "guys, i can assure you, i am not sending any messages about my love life. please get back to your work," wonwoo cleared his throat. he heard a disappointed noise, but pencils went back to scratching and pages started flipping again. soon it was the end of the class period and everyone was packing up. it was just lily. "next time, please refrain from asking personal questions in class," he asked.

"yes, of course. i'm sorry mr. jeon," lily bowed her head.

"it's alright. it can just be a bit distracting for your classmates. let's try to be more considerate."

"will do," she said, turning on her heel.

"oh and lily, just between me and you," wonwoo paused. "i don't have a girlfriend."

"he said he wasn't in a relationship!" lily cheered. daniel stared at her baffled, "didn't he say not to tell anyone?"

"yeah, but i mean, he must know that i'm going to tell you guys. you guys don't seem as nearly as excited about this as i do."

"why would we be? he's single, it's not like you have a chance with him or something," mina commented.

"no! ew! i would never try to go after a teacher, are you crazy? i'm saying that this is a perfect opportunity for us to get mr. jeon a date!" lily practically squealed.

"a date? with who?"

"with miss ___, of course! who else? haven't you guys ever noticed that they spend almost every lunch period with each other? they're so cute together!"

"maybe they're just planning classes or something," daniel shrugged.

"um, hello? mr. jeon teachers english literature and miss ___ teaches physics b. what would they planning together?"

"touché."

"i think it's time to enact a master plan."

"so everyone understands this equation, right?" you said, turning back to face the class. "tell me now, so i can help. this equation is the very foundation to magnetism, if you don't get it now i can't promise you'll do well in this unit."

no one put their hand up. you smiled, "oh well, i guess we just have a bunch of physic masters in this class. but seriously, let me know if you need help. you can start working on your homework packet now, this way if you have questions you can ask them now. i don't need your frantic emails at midnight."

you returned to your desk and flipped through some lesson plans. you didn't get to finish eating lunch today, so you took out your lunch bag. a small slip of paper fell out of it and onto the ground. you smiled to yourself and reached down to pick it up. "miss ___!" your student lily said, she was standing at the foot of your desk.

"yes, lily?" you answered.

"i have a question about something."

"have at it."

"it isn't physics related though." you looked up, slipping the slip into your pocket. "then, what's it about? do you need to go to the nurse?" you frowned.

"no it's nothing like that, but i was told by another teacher not to ask questions like this in front of the whole class. he said it was inconsiderate," she shrugged.

"oh, um, well i guess you can go ahead."

"are you friends with mr. jeon?"

you froze. mr. jeon? as in english literature teacher mr. jeon? mr. jeon you eat lunch with him every day mr. jeon? maybe they started picking up on something. "well, yeah, i guess you could say that," you coughed. "why are you asking this all a sudden?"

"well, i came by mr. jeon's class before lunch to ask him about an assignment and i saw you there. i didn't want to interrupt, but i didn't know you guys were friends," she shrugged, averting her eyes.

"oh well, yes. mr. jeon started at his position around the same time i did a few years ago. so we got close because of that."

"that's so- i mean, i'm sorry to pry. i was just curious. i mean usually i don't see english teachers and physics teachers talk that much. thanks!"

the whole exchange left you a little baffled.

lily seemed determined to get you and wonwoo together. she began to pry more often and she was getting bolder one question at a time. she even asked if you were in a relationship and if you got you cute gifts for birthdays and holidays from your boyfriend. sometimes she got very bold and mentioned mr. jeon by name. "miss ___, don't you think mr. jeon is cute? you two would be so cute together." you had replied, "i don't think this is time or the place to talk about this, lily. please do your practice problems." you rolled your eyes, "i don't feel like i'm at liberty to answer that."

you couldn't bring yourself to actually discipline her or her friends (who had seemingly joined in on the deep dive about your love life). they were curious teenagers looking for gossip. hell, you were like that too. you felt it would be unfair to punish them for that, as long as it didn't get too inappropriate, you didn't mind. it was a bit endearing too.

you just had to push the thought out of your mind. it was time to go to lunch anyway. it was the perfect time to clear your head.

"has lily been asking you some personal questions lately?" wonwoo asked, leaning back in his chair. god, he looked so handsome today. his glasses, pressed shirt, and ironed pants. "yes, has she been causing a raucous here too?" you asked, taking a seat at one of the desks.

"well, she asked me if i think you're beautiful," he chuckled.

you paused. you would be lying if you said you didn't feel anything for the man sitting in front of you. he was smart and kind.

"of course, i told her you are a lovely human being inside and out, and to get back to doing her project."

"funny, she was telling me that she and her friends thought we'd make a cute couple." he laughed at that, and it made your chest flutter. you loved his laugh. "cute couple, that's so cute," he gasped.

"yeah i know right. who knew our students would start trying to set us up," you joked. he nodded in agreement getting up after his microwave went off from the other side of the room. "it would be so funny if they actually succeeded, but it does seem a bit pointless at this point, right?" he noted.

"yeah, totally pointless," you agreed.

you and wonwoo, being set up, by your students of all people. it sure would be for the books if it happened like that.

what an absurd idea.

the rest of the week went as usual, uneventful, but you did get to see wonwoo on the way out of the building and into the parking lot. he held his leather bag in his right hand. "on the way out today?" he asked. "don't you usually do tutoring sessions after school on fridays?"

"we just started a unit, and no one showed up after the fifteen-minute window. i'm out of here," you laughed. he smiled. you loved it when he smiled. "want to walk out together then?" he offered and pushed the door open for you. something about him was so calming and comforting. you smiled and averted your gaze to the floor. even after all these years, he made you a little nervous. you did miss the way he grinned when he caught your shy smile. he loved the way you smiled too. he couldn't wait to see it again, he needed to see it again as soon as possible. he was too lost in thought about the way you smile and the way your voice sounds, that he fell far behind you. "___, wait up," he called as you made your way through the faculty parking lot. he jogged to catch up to you and reached out to grab your hand.

"i swear i saw him kiss her out in the parking lot," daniel insisted. "they were holding hands too!" at this point, lily was totally unmotivated to get her two favorite teachers together. not after miss ___ shut her down on numerous occasions and mr. jeon was just as friendly but unbothered as ever giving his most PG answers. "whatever, daniel," lily huffed. "they would be so perfect together."

"he's literally telling you that they're together, he saw them kissing!" mina exclaimed. lily rolled her eyes. they were all hallucinating just to make themselves feel better that it was wishful thinking. "true love isn't real!" she cried.

"it's time to wake up, sweetheart," he mumbled. "you said you had lots of work to do today."

"yeah, well it's my day off too. i'll get to work later," his fiancé groaned.

"oh come on, i know you're desperate to do all that paperwork," he teased. he tugged on the warm body text to him to pull it closer to him. he loved waking up with his wonderful, beautiful, smart fiancé next to him.

he loved waking up next to you.

he knew the kids were asking about him and his love life. kids would be kids of course. "lily won't stop asking about my love life. it's funny since we both teach her," he said.

"i guess, she's never noticed the necklace with the ring hanging around my neck," you chuckled, nuzzling your face into wonwoo's neck. his arms easily wrapped around your body. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "you know, lily asked me if i had a girlfriend the other week," wonwoo murmured.

"she asked me if i had a boyfriend too," you hummed. "i just told her that it wasn't appropriate to ask that in class."

"i said something similar, but i did tell her i didn't have a girlfriend."

you paused. why would he say that? he was very obviously in a relationship, well obvious to the two of you. he even gave you a ring and a nice dinner to cement your relationship. "i obviously couldn't tell that i didn't have a girlfriend because i have a wonderful, smart fiancé," he laughed. you breathed an internal sigh of relief, but you still hit him in the chest. "that's so stupid," you groaned. "you're catching everyone on a technicality." he thought he was so clever and funny, ever the wordsmith.

"it's so hard not telling the students," wonwoo whispered, and you nodded your head in agreement. he didn't know why the two of you didn't tell the students yet, but the relationship started a bit secretively, almost right after the both of you were onboarded. he guessed the two of you never got out of the whole secret relationship. it was a bit exhilarating keeping the secret between you and him, and the admin. he felt like a teenager again. "maybe we should ease them into it, but let's not let them think it was all them," you said.

"maybe it's time for you to start wearing the ring on your finger then," he commented pulling away to get a better look at you. "i can't wait for you to become mrs. jeon," he smiled.

"yuck, so corny," you rolled your eyes with a smile. "you need to stop with these cheesy sayings early in the morning." nevertheless, you leaned forward and kissed him. he kissed back easily, "come on, i know you like the little notes i leave in your lunch."

"i do, now be quiet and just kiss me."

"gladly."

he did have the whole weekend until he had to go back to school. at least you made the day a little better.

min | im just in a silly goofy mood LOL. my poor attempt at humor and portraying what high schoolers are like. wonwoo being an english teacher just makes sense!!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! not proofread at the moment (it's 1 in the morning)

tagging: @a-wandering-stay

[rambling-at-midnight]

omg a part 2????

i loved it so much!!!

Ahh I'm so glad you liked it!!! It's my first Jason x reader fic :) Here's a part 2!

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks (Part 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Civilian!Reader

Summary: Now it’s time for a meet-ugly-ish with some dude named Jason. Also, you see the Red Hood again.

Word count: 6.3k (holy shit)

You’re not crazy, right? It’s weird that the library is completely empty because it closes in two hours and the weather is actually nice outside for once, and some random dude wanders in and sets up two seats down from you. He’s not even here to study; he pulled out a sci-fi novel as soon as he sat down.

Who comes to a GCU campus library to read recreationally? The seats are uncomfortable and plastic. And the sun is shining. Everyone else is outside soaking up the Vitamin D.

Honestly, you’re mostly surprised the chair he’s on didn’t snap as soon as he sat. The dude is huge. Football player huge. Shouldn’t he be at practice, instead of forcing the chair to make the most irritating squeaking noises known to man every time he moves an inch?

You grit your teeth and put on your headphones, but you can still hear the poor chair’s dying lamentations, so you turn on an instrumental playlist that hopefully won’t distract you too much from studying.

You let yourself stew over the annoyance until your stomach growls so loud you hear it over the soft music. He has the good grace not to look at you, but you definitely see him pause.

Okay, you’ll call it even. This is what you get for running to the library right after six hours of classes. You need to cement the knowledge in your mind while it’s still fresh, and if that means you have to forego lunch…

He’s still there two hours later when the closing time alarm goes off. It’s a shrill old-school bell, the kind no one can ignore, and he jumps like he’s never heard it in his life. The poor chair finally gives up. He tumbles to the ground.

You look over in case he needs any help, but he’s scrambling for the book, face bright red.

If he is a football player, you wouldn’t be surprised that he’s never heard the bell before. That sort rarely stays this late at the library—if they enter at all.

He rushes out. You pack up a little more methodically. All that’s left for you to look forward to tonight is trying to study in your apartment, but you never have much luck.

He’s outside the library on his phone when you walk out. Maybe waiting for a ride? You’re a little on edge from the events of two days ago, so you watch him out of the corner of your eye as you walk away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.

At least the library closes earlier on Wednesdays, 6 pm instead of 9:30. You don’t know why. It’s still a weekday. But it forces you out while the sun’s still shining, which is probably a good thing.

Within two minutes of the twenty-minute walk home, your hip hurts. By the ten-minute mark, you’re trying not to limp.

Despite your better judgment, you keep your gaze turned to the rooftops, even though you know the vigilantes are nocturnal. It’s stupid to want to see a flash of red helmet, anyway. The Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people every week; there’s no way he would remember you.

Of course, when you finally get back, there are the stairs to contend with.

Your cat, that ungrateful little beast, beeps at you furiously for being gone so long. Never mind that your roommate works nights, so at most the cat’s been alone for an hour. He makes a break for the hallway, and you box the doorway with your legs and slam the door closed against your hip as you slip through.

Your injury explodes with pain, but at least the cat doesn’t get out. Ungrateful little beast. As if he isn’t fed and loved enough.

You finish slipping through the doorway and just stand for a moment listening to the blood rushing through your ears. Damn, but that hurt.

In the bathroom mirror, you hike up the hem of your shirt and check the state of your injury.

All in all, it could have been much worse. The bullet scooped out a fair chunk of skin, but it was just a surface wound. There’s no fresh blood on the gauze, and when you change the wrappings, the skin is pink and raw but starting to scab. It scooped out a chunk and left a trail of bruising, but you got off fairly lightly, all things considered.

The GCPD released the robber’s mugshot yesterday morning. In the picture, the man’s eyes were so swollen from your pepper spray he could hardly open them.

You preferred the bullet, honestly.

You try in vain to study a bit more, but even after you take more painkillers, you’re not in the mood. You feed your cat, then curl up on the couch to watch a couple episodes of the show you’re currently in the middle of.

That was the first time you see the huge guy, but it’s certainly not the last.

You wouldn’t notice him so much if he wasn’t the size of a damn refrigerator. He’s gotta be a linebacker for the Knights, but he’s not on their roster. You looked it up after the third time he wandered into the library just a couple minutes after you. It’s probably not updated yet, but you see him so often, you’d like to know his name.

Also, he’d bleached a patch of hair right at the front of his head—was that a trend now, or something?—so it wasn’t hard to spot him.

On Saturday, your feelings shift from mild annoyance and curiosity to a sinking sort of dread when you notice him at the coffeeshop you always visit on the weekends. The employees know you by name and use it to call out your order, so now he knows it, as long as he’s paying attention.

You think he might be.

You don’t want to be that person. Not everything in the world revolves around you, obviously. But you might still be shaken from what happened on Monday, because the thought wiggles in the back of your brain: what if you have a stalker?

You try to tell yourself that it’s just paranoia. GCU isn’t that big a campus, after all, and there are only so many places in the city that are: A. close to campus, B. reasonably priced, and C. comfortable to work in. You’ve run into classmates here before, and you don’t have a monopoly on the library or this coffeeshop. Just because he shows up at the same time you do doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He might be establishing a schedule that just so happens to line up with yours.

But, you have to admit, it is easier for stalkers to stalk people when they know their regular schedule.

You keep a watchful eye out and are pretty good about keeping off the streets after dark, but a week and a half later finds you stranded an hour’s walk from your apartment. The buses worked for two days, then shut down again, and you foolishly believed that following the detour that said would get you home would actually get you home. You don’t want to call an Uber because traffic would make the ride longer than the walk and bankrupt you in the process. Same reason you can’t call anyone to pick you up unless you waited the two hours until rush hour dies down.

Walking is, unfortunately, the best option.

So you clutch your trusty pepper spray and prepare yourself for a long night of looking over your shoulder and ignoring the pain in your side. The wound has mostly closed, although the bruising has gotten worse.

Three minutes later, you hear the roar of a motorcycle followed by angry car honks. You barely pay it any mind until the motorcycle pulls up next to you and doesn't pass.

You keep walking, avoiding eye contact. Maybe ignoring them will dissuade the rider from catcalling you.

It doesn't work. "Hey," the rider says, and it's only because the voice is mechanically distorted, recognizable only because of how many videos of him that you won't admit to looking up the last week, that you look at him. "What are you doing?" asks the Red Hood.

"What are you doing?" you counter. He's blocking the flow of traffic talking to you.

The Red Hood looks over his shoulder, flips off the person honking behind him, and steers his motorcycle onto the sidewalk. He drives fast, and you flinch in case he tries to run you over, but he screeches to a halt at the last second.

"Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks," he says casually, like you two meet up often.

"I've been staying out of trouble," you say.

"Not tonight?"

"No. That wasn't my fault, though. I took the Southwest bus because it was supposed to connect with the L line, but all the signs they posted were a lie, apparently, because—" You cut yourself off. "Never mind, I'm sure you don't care. Point is, I'm walking home. It's not too far."

"It's about an hour," he points out. "How's your bullet wound? Will it object to that walk?"

"I'll be fine."

He pats the back of his motorcycle seat. "Hop on. I'll drive you."

You take a couple hasty steps back. It may not be a white van, but you know better than to follow candy into someone's vehicle. "Oh, no, thanks. Traffic's pretty bad right now."

You get the sense he's smiling when he says, "I bet I can get you back faster than walking." If only he wasn't wearing the stupid shiny helmet, you would be able to read his expressions better.

"Really, I'm okay. I'm sure you have better things to do than drive me home."

"Helping people is literally my job," is his response. "I have to make sure you get home safely. So either you get on the back of my bike, or I follow you the whole walk back to your apartment."

You know a losing battle when you see it. As a general rule of thumb, it's usually smart not to argue with the dude carrying at least two guns. "Don't kidnap me," you order before slinging your leg over the seat.

He chuckles. It's the first time you've ever heard him laugh, and it makes him sound so much younger. "You can't ride like that."

"Like what?"

He cranes his neck to look back at you. There's at least six inches between both your bodies. You clutch the sides of the seat with both your hands, hoping he doesn't take off with such a lurch that you topple off the back. "I drive fast. You'll have to hold on."

"I am holding on."

"To me."

You've only met the man twice. You're pretty sure clinging to someone's back is at least a third-meeting type of touch, but he reaches back. The Red Hood snakes a hand nearly twice the size of yours into the crook of your knee, then yanks you to him. You shoot forward with a strangled yelp and catch yourself on his back.

You've never before understood the phrase 'wall of muscle,' but you get it now.

He is huge. And strong. You gingerly put your hands on his shoulders. That's not an inappropriate touch, you think.

He has to live at the gym, right?

"You're still not holding on," he chides. "I don't have a helmet for you, so you really shouldn't fall off."

You swallow and move your hands, but he's too thick for you to link your hands around his front. So you fist both of them into his jacket. It presses your bodies tight against each other from shoulder to thighs. Through the layers his body radiates heat, but you shiver.

"Going," is all the warning you get.

Then you're gone; the bike shudders beneath you, then takes off like a jet.

You can't catch your breath. This must be what riding a dragon feels like, is your first nonsensical thought, a side effect of your roommate's obsession with Game of Thrones.

The bike roars beneath you, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of wind and the pound of blood in your ears. You can't see much with the wind drying out your eyes, so you press your head against the Red Hood's back and squint to one side. Cars and street lamps blur together into a stream of mismatched lights and colors.

The Red Hood drives fast. He weaves between lanes, runs through red lights, cuts onto the sidewalk. A couple bikers shake their fists at him when he passes them in the bike lane. A lot of cars honk at the two of you.

Judging by the way his shoulders shake with laughter, he likes pissing them off. You have to admit, the feeling is a little intoxicating.

You can't hear the sound, but your front is plastered to his back. Even with the layers of his suit and leather jacket, you can feel the vibrations of sound deep within his chest. He has a fairly deep voice, after all, unless the helmet changes that.

No less than ten minutes later, he parks abruptly. You lift your head, blinking moisture back into your eyes, and stare dumbly at your apartment building.

He'd actually brought you back.

Maybe he really was reformed.

You stumble off the bike onto unsteady legs. The Red Hood kicks his stand into place and rests against the bike, leaning with elbows on his handlebars. Like he expects a Midwest goodbye. And you find yourself dawdling.

Maybe you want one, too.

"Thanks for the ride," you finally say awkwardly.

"Anytime," he says, and you laugh, thinking it's a joke, but he doesn't. After a brief awkward pause, the Red Hood tries, "So how have you been?" as if you're old pals meeting up for brunch, and the question is so ridiculous coming from a sort-of-reformed crime lord slash serial killer that you respond without thinking.

"Pretty good, except I think I may have a stalker."

His helmet doesn't do a great job translating whatever sound he makes in response to that. It comes out as a crackle. "What?"

"I've noticed this dude recently showing up wherever I go," you say. "But I think it's just a coincidence. Sorry. That was a bad joke." It wasn't, but you don't want to accuse someone without proof of stalking you. If he's not, you'll seem self-obsessed. If he is, then he knows that you know, and it's not like the GCPD will do anything. One of your friends from your hometown had a stalker for literal years, and the police never did anything, even after he sent her death threats. They said there wasn't enough proof to make an arrest then, so someone showing up at the same places you are definitely isn't enough proof now.

The Red Hood tilts his head. "Does he make you uncomfortable?"

"You don't need to beat him up or anything on my behalf," you say. "I mean, you've seen me with a bottle of pepper spray. I'm pretty sure I can handle myself."

"I know you can," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, like he finds something about the situation funny. "And I'm pretty sure that you know that I'm going to check this out anyway."

"No," you say, surprising yourself with your firmness. You can't rely on vigilantes to solve all your problems for you. "Seriously, it's okay. Thanks for the ride. Maybe I'll see you around."

"I'm counting on it," he calls as you walk away.

And he's right. Two days later finds you at the gas station at ten-thirty at night. You don't want to see him, per se. You're definitely not looking over your shoulder at the slightest sound. You definitely didn't check the parking lot for a notorious red motorcycle on your way in, and you certainly aren't taking peeks out the window every time headlights pass by on the street.

You're just... curious.

Maybe.

But you have absolutely no warning, not even a suspicion that someone is behind you, when you reach for a box of Cheez-Its. Someone else's hand gets there first and you nearly jump out of your socks.

"Hey," the Red Hood wheezes. He's clutching his side like he has a cramp. "Question: if I buy these for you, will you patch me up?"

"What?"

"I may have been cut," he admits. Judging by the angle of his hunch, it's a little more serious than just a 'cut'. "So: do we have a deal?"

The thought occurs to you, as you help him up five flights of stairs to your apartment, that you're escorting a strange man into your place of residence. You haven't even given your roommate a heads-up, though you're pretty sure tomorrow's his night off.

Sure enough, the only person there to greet you when you walk in is your cat. As per usual, he tries to escape. The Red Hood gently but firmly ushers him inside with his foot with such ease he must have one of his own. "It's cute," he says, still clutching his side.

"Thanks," you say. "He always tries to get out, but if he actually escapes then he just freezes in the hallway until I bring him back inside." Then you realize that you're discussing your cat, of all things, with the Red Hood. You clear your throat and say, "Let me take a look at you."

The crime lord and cat trail after you into the bathroom. It gets a little cramped because the Red Hood's about as small as a fridge is small, but you two figure out a passable system: he's too tall, even while sitting down, and you don't want to bend in half while you stitch him. So you sit on the toilet, he stands in front of you, and your cat jumps on top of his leather jacket on the counter to observe and judge. Luckily, the suture kit is still in the bathroom from when you thought you would have to stitch yourself up, so it's not long before you're instructing him to lift up the hem of his shirt so you can see the damage.

You hiss between your teeth at the sight. Someone grazed his side with a knife, by the looks of it, but the wound is deep. It might go all the way to his subcutaneous tissue.

After you clean it off, you're sure that it does. "You call this a cut?"

"I've had worse," he says gruffly.

"And you're still alive?" You squint at him.

He huffs like that's funny.

"They basically cut you in two! I don't know if I can fix this. I've never stitched someone up before!"

"What do you mean?" He tilts his head. "You stitched yourself up, remember? You told me you would."

Shit. Of all the ways to stick your foot in your mouth—

"It wasn't that bad," you say weakly.

“It looked pretty bad.”

“It just looked bad because I was wearing a light colored shirt. Don’t worry; I’ve learned my lesson.”

The Red Hood scratches under your cat’s chin. “About wearing light colored clothing, or about getting shot?”

You’re trying to thread the suture needle, but the stupid thread won’t cooperate. “Hmm?”

“Which lesson did you learn?”

“The former, mostly. Believe it or not, ‘try not to get shot’ is something most people, including me, know intuitively.”

"Let me see."

"Yeah, right," you say, "my apartment's basically a strip club, isn't it? First your shirt's coming up, then mine. Absolutely—" You slap his hand away— "Not. I'm fine. Now hold still while I stab you."

The process goes by quickly. He stands like a statue the whole time, like he's used to the pain of getting stitches. Considering his profession, he probably is.

Actually, you can see a couple healed-over scars on his torso just from the small bit of skin he's revealed by pulling up his shirt. And, you're pretty sure, a perfectly defined six-pack, but that's none of your business.

"I don't have the fancy dissolving sutures, unfortunately," you say while you tie off the thread. "These should come out in about a week."

"Yeah, I know," he grunts, letting his shirt fall back down. And you're not disappointed. At all. "Same time next week, then?"

"What?"

"To get them out."

"Uh." Your brain stalls out. You'd been operating under the assumption that this was just another freak coincidental run-in.

Is it just you, or is the Red Hood looking to make a friend out of you? Or maybe just a free pseudo-surgeon?

"Sure," you say. It's not like you can stop him, really.

"Thanks," he says, stroking your cat one more time. Then he nudges the pest off his jacket and shrugs it on, even though there's not really a need for it. The weather's been pretty mild the last week.

You walk him out the door. He pauses in the hallway, turns, and says, "By the way, what's your name?"

You tilt your head and tell it to him.

"Nice to meet you," he says. Then he walks away.

You watch him walk down the hallway until your cat escapes, and then you have to chase him. You're pretty sure the Red Hood sees it, because low-pitched laughter hits your ears as you gather the little bastard up, but when you look, the vigilante's gone.

"God, I hope he's up to date on his tetanus shot."

You find yourself at the coffee shop the next morning, determined not to let a buff bookworm change your routine. You're the first customer, and they have your order ready by the time you finish setting up your stuff on a small table in the corner of the shop, far from where the line will build up when more people trickle in.

Like clockwork, the bookworm wanders in just a couple minutes after you do, orders two coffees, and settles down across the room with his front to you.

Every time you glance up, he's utterly focused on his book. He's probably not watching you. Right?

Fifteen minutes later, the coffees untouched, he stands up. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he picks one up, approaches the counter, and...

Walks right past it.

Walks in your direction.

You stare blatantly, and he holds your gaze with a set jaw and something a little challenging in his gaze.

He's walking to you.

The coffee cup slams on the table, splashing a little over the edge, and you jump to move your laptop away from the liquid.

"Shit, sorry," the bookworm says. He runs away.

You stare until you realize he's grabbing napkins and hurrying back. At least ten, even though the spill's pretty small, and he piles them all onto the table.

His face gets redder the longer you watch without saying anything.

Once he's absolutely sure your laptop is safe from the couple drops he spilled, he balls them all into one large fist and rushes out, "I'm sorry—I was supposed to meet my brother here, but he canceled, and your drink cup's empty, so I was just wondering if you wanted this one? It's a little warm, but..."

"But free is good," you say, deciding to put him out his misery. And he certainly looks miserable rambling in front of you. Like he's mortified for some reason. "Um, thanks. What..."

"Just an iced coffee. Probably watered down."

You take a sip, just to be polite. It is watered down, but he didn't add any milk to it, so that's probably a good thing. "Thanks..." You tilt the cup to look at the name written on the side. "Jason?"

"Yep." He nods. He's still standing in front of you, like he wants to be invited to sit, but you have a lot of work to do, and he's a complete stranger, and all his stuff is still on his table across the room.

Something clatters behind the counter. You both turn in time to see the two baristas duck out of sight, whispering furiously. Probably about the spectacle you two are making.

"You go to GCU's campus library a lot, right?" Jason asks suddenly.

"Yeah, I do. So do you." You don't phrase it like a question.

"Yeah," he says. "It's peaceful to read in there. Quieter than my apartment."

"Okay," you say slowly. You're really not interested in this conversation, but you don't want to be rude.

He must understand you, though, because he rubs the back of his head and steps backwards, mumbling something about getting back to his book.

Jason's brother never does end up meeting him. You tell yourself that's why you keep glancing at him. Once or twice, you two peek at each other at the same time, and you always look away first, face hot like he's caught you doing something wrong.

The next time you go to the library, it's packed. The weather has turned, so students have nothing better to do than prepare for their finals. You head to the quiet floor, slowly losing hope that you'll find a seat.

A head snaps up the moment you walk in, dark-haired with a striking streak of white at his forehead. Jason.

Something like relief passes over his face, and he waves you over.

"I saved your seat," he whispers, dragging his bag off of the chair.

"Thanks," you say, actually touched. "You didn't have to."

He shrugs. "You're my reading buddy."

The next day, he's sitting at the library's entrance when you walk in. Jason shakes his head. "All the seats were already taken when I got here."

"Ugh." Strictly speaking, you don't need to study tonight. You're pretty confident about the next test's material, and you're also pretty burnt out.

"We could check out the Student Center?" he suggests. As if it's a given that the two of you are going to spend the afternoon together. And, you realize, after two straight weeks of studying in his proximity, you don't mind the presumption. That's how you made your closest friend in undergrad, anyway.

In fact, you think you might want to get to know Jason. Maybe ask about his white streak; you've been growing more and more curious about it. And why he's about seven feet tall and two hundred fifty pounds of muscle but has a passion for romance novels.

"I don't think I've studied in there before."

"It's not too bad, but it's a little louder than the library."

So you two head to the Student Center, but he doesn't open his book, and you open your laptop but don't turn it on. He buys you coffee, though you insist that you can pay for it yourself, and a simple query into what book he's reading currently turns into a two-hour conversation.

Jason likes to read every genre, but he likes classics and romance best. He doesn't just have one brother, he has four, and a sister. He's not on the football team like you'd assumed; he just likes to work out. He's finishing up his sophomore year of undergrad studying English Lit—he sees how your smile freezes at those words, and you're asking how old he is, and he's laughing when he tells you he took a couple gap years. He's your age, actually, and that's relieving for reasons you can't quite put to words.

When you check your watch and curse at the time—it's almost time for your cat's dinner—he asks for your number, and you put it into his phone.

You feel good on your walk home. You haven't made a new friend since the first semester of vet school; the course load is too demanding for you to participate in any GCU clubs. Your roommate asks why you're smiling and you wave him off. Of course, your cat doesn't care that you're in a good mood. He only cares about getting fed.

You see Jason a couple more times over the week, and soon you're too embarrassed to admit that you thought he was stalking you. He's almost as bad a texter as you are, responding at such hours you're half-convinced he doesn't sleep, so you're less self-conscious about taking hours to respond.

You've just gotten around to answering his last text when something knocks against your window.

You drop the phone on your face.

The Red Hood is laughing at you when you open the window to let him in. You'd forgotten he was coming, but you don't say so. He tumbles in, moving a little stiffly, but a lot better than he'd been last week. Your cat, the little traitor, runs to greet him and rubs against his ankles, purring like an engine. The Red Hood bends to pet him. "Hey, kitty." The red helmet tips up and those unnerving white lenses fix on you. "Hey, doc. Here to get my stitches out."

"How have you been feeling?" you ask.

"Good," he says, almost defensively.

It makes you suspect that something is wrong, but when you all pile into the bathroom again like it's a clown car and he pulls up his shirt, the wound is healing nicely. No pink or heat that signals infection, no puffy skin. You remove the stitches quickly, and again he hesitates, like he wants to stay longer.

You find yourself thinking about Jason. You're pretty sure you wish he was here.

"Well, thanks."

"Anytime."

He pauses. "Really?"

You shrug. "I mean, not if you need a hospital. Then I'd expect you to head straight to a hospital. But stuff like this—no worse than this, ideally—I guess I can help you with."

"You're pretty cool for a vet," the Red Hood says. "The last one I visited kept freaking out on me for stealing codeine."

"Well, that's a restricted—wait, you were stealing codeine? What for?"

He shrugs.

"What were you using it for," you repeat sternly.

"Okay!" he says loudly. "Well, thanks for patching me up, doc. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Wait," you call out uselessly, but he vaults out the window. You gasp and rush to the sill, but there's no Red Hood-shaped puddle on the ground. Instead, his rapidly shrinking form disappears in the distance, swinging between the buildings that make up the Gotham skyline.

You don't see the Red Hood for a while after that, but you hear whispers of him wearing a new costume. You get caught up with finals and Jason, who asks you out after the semester ends.

Your vehement 'yes' takes you by surprise. Him, too, judging by his wide eyes and wider smile. You wonder why he asked if he thought you would say no. You wonder why you didn't realize earlier how desperately you wanted him to.

Now that you're out of school, you pick up shifts at the vet clinic. By some unhappy circumstance, they can only schedule you for the evening shifts. Jason works nights, too, and you've never fully squirreled out where he works, but at least you can spend some days together.

It's when you're walking back from your first shift that you see the Red Hood again after almost three weeks of radio silence. He pulls up next to you on the motorcycle. It's so late that there's no one on the road, so he stays on the asphalt and idles along at your walking pace until you break and say, "Long time no see, Hood."

"Did you miss me?" he teases.

You stop walking, because.

Most of his costume changed. Because it's summer, and even the nights are hot and muggy, you assume.

The pants are the same. So are the boots. But his jacket is red and sleeveless and has a hood that goes down to his eyebrows, the armor beneath short-sleeved, which means most of his arms are bare.

And...

Your mouth is dry. You swallow.

You're pretty sure not even Batman is that ripped. He looks like he's chiseled out of marble.

The longer you're speechless, the more amused he gets. You don't know how you know that, but something about his posture seems smug.

"You're taking 'red hood' seriously now, are you?" is all you manage to say. Because what else are you supposed to comment on? His bare forearms? His veins are so beautifully pronounced, they would be a dream to take blood from, but you have a boyfriend of a whole one and a half weeks, and you may be many things, but you're not a cheater.

He laughs, then pulls his hood low when it slips back a bit. His voice is still modulated, although it's not through a red helmet anymore. This is more like a muzzle. You can't tell if the eye covering is part of it, or like the domino masks that Batman and Robin wear, but the lenses are red now instead of white.

He's really leaning into the theme.

"You want a ride?"

"We're two blocks from my apartment."

He shrugs. "I'm heading there anyway."

What the hell. You've already hopped on the back of his bike before. It's easier to do so the second time. You wrap your arms around his torso again, and when his arms settle over your own, they're warm with his body heat, but not hard, even though the muscles look sharp enough to cut glass. He's firm all over, but his skin is soft, apart from the raised, bumpy scars that seem to cover him from head-to-toe. It makes you worry about him, just a little.

He doesn't drive fast this time. He drives slow enough to hold a conversation and tosses over his shoulder, "So what's new with you?"

"Not much," you say into his ear. Is it just you, or does he shiver? "I finished another semester of vet school."

"Top grades, I'm sure. Did you get extra credit for patching me up?"

"I wish." No, your grades are good, but not exceptional. But exceptional is what got you into vet school. As long as you graduate with a DVM, even if you're the lowest in your class, you're a licensed doctor. There's some relief in that. "The dude I thought was stalking me asked me out, actually."

"Really?" he asks, interested and alert. "Was he really stalking you? Do you need me to scare him off for you?"

"No," you say, smiling at the thought of the Red Hood trying to scare off Jason. They're about the same build, now that you think about it, which you're sure the vigilante isn't used to. And Jason's never been anything but gentle and polite, but you saw an undercurrent of something strong, something like titanium, under that gentle spirit the one time he stood up for one of the baristas at the coffee shop that you first spoke to each other. He hadn't needed to do much apart from stand up and glare at the beleaguered corporate guy angry that there wasn't enough sugar in his coffee, and the dude shut up and scurried out as fast as he could.

It was probably the hottest thing you've ever seen him do, except for that one time you pushed your laptop a little too close to the edge of your desk while studying, it tipped over, and he caught it one-handed without looking up from his book. What can you say? Saving you a couple hundred dollars in getting that fixed was hot.

"It was a misunderstanding," you say. "We just ended up in the same places at the same times."

A gust of wind pushes back the Red Hood's hood, exposing a head of thick, dark hair, the same shade of black as Jason's. The motorcycle swerves in his haste to pull his hood back up, and when you reach your apartment and hop off the bike, he's pushing his hair back, back, beneath the hood.

What's the point of ditching the helmet if he's just going to be fussing with the hood all the time?

"What's new with you?" you ask, scuffing your toe against the sidewalk. Your shoes are falling apart; the sole is peeling away.

"Same old, same old," he says. His voice sounds rougher, but that might just be the new modulator.

"How's your side?"

"How's yours?" he counters. "You still haven't let me see it. I bet it scarred because you were too stubborn to take my advice and patch it up."

You will never admit that he's right. You challenge, "Let's compare scars, then," knowing full well his armor dips below his pants. It's a little silly to picture the Red Hood wearing an armored one-piece, but that's all you can imagine.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. It dislodges the hood. A patch of hair falls down to his forehead, and it's white.

But the back of his hair is black.

White and black—

Your stomach flips.

"I thought you had a boyfriend, honey. Why're you asking me to strip?"

So that's what all the teasing's been about. He hasn't been flirting—or he has, his own weird version of flirting, because he's a dumbass.

For a moment all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, then you flex your fingers to regain feeling in them. You roll your eyes and say, "I think we've established that my apartment is basically a strip club. Why don't you come up and show me, Jason?"

"Well, I'm flattered, but—what?" He splutters like he's choking on his own tongue. Serves him right. "I'm not—why do you think that—I mean, I could be anyone—"

Yeah, he can have his little crisis on the street. You tug on your own fringe, then swipe into the building.

You hear his muffled cursing as the door closes.

You look forward to him catching up.

(My requests are open, so let me know if you want me to write anything in particular! Also let me know if you want to be added to a taglist.)

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[a-certain-romance]

Can’t Help Falling

Characters/Ships: gn!reader x Yae Miko, Lisa, and Jean (separate). Pre-relationship for Miko’s part

A/N: Sorry to have kept this ask in the dark for so long D: the fluff was super fun to write!!

“You are like a walking fire hazard”

You wince at her harsh comparison, though she does have a point. The Narukami shrine is just so tall and steep, you can’t help but trip every now and then walking to and fro. Not that it’s much different when you’re on flat ground.

“You have a perfectly shaped fox tree yet you can’t have the trail be paved?,” you argue, right before you lose your footing and slip. Miko’s reflexes were fast enough to catch you at the very last second before you could tumble to the ground. Her arms circled your waist as if she were dipping you in the final moments of a couples dance.

“Oh now this feels familiar,” She taunts. “Are you intentionally using light novel tropes against me to gain my attention?” Her eyebrow raises, and you begin to feel smaller under her gaze. “You really don’t need to try that hard” she tsks before setting you back on your feet.

You awkwardly apologize before standing up straighter. “It won’t happen again.” She only hums in response, walking past you. “Come along now,” she beckons with a swish of her tail, “it’s going to take more than a simple cliché to win me over.”

“Oh hi cutie~”

Lisa’s lazy smile brightens at your entrance into the library. She’s sitting at a table with Razor across from her, books and loose papers spread out in nearly placed sections.

“Razor, don’t you want to say hi?” She asks. Razor remains seated on his side of the table. “They have bad luck, like Bennett.” He says bluntly, but nods anyways.

Lisa snorts, and your face flushes in embarrassment. “I’ll come find you when we’re done.” She turns back to Razor, a fond smile playing at her lips now that she knows you’re close by.

Unlike your other visits to browse the isles or talk with Lisa, you were on a mission. You needed a book. One that of course you realized was sitting on one of the top shelves— taller than you could ever reach. Maybe Razor’s comment held some truth. Deciding you didn’t want to interrupt Lisa’s one-on-one time with the wolf boy, you set a nearby ladder against the shelf and began to climb.

“I’m all finished with Razor if you still wanted to chat—“ her voice catches you off guard and you quickly lost your balance. The ladder falls and you go with it. But instead of hitting the hard flooring, you fall into something much softer. A sigh of relief escapes your lips but it’s quickly replaced by a loud yelp.

An electro shock runs through your body that only Lisa’s narrowed eyes can explain. “Darling, if you need my help please just tell me. I’m here for you, all you need to do is ask.” She ruffles your hair fondly. “Let me move this ladder and then we can have our regular tea break, okay?”

“Jean, I think you should carry the basket.”

A picnic at Windrise was just what you both needed. You were always one to encourage Jean to take more days off, and a nice lunch in nature was the most idealistic experience you could think of. But in retrospect, the idea seemed much better in your head. You’ve already lost count of how many times you stopped yourself from falling down to the grassy terrain.

Next to you Jean laughs and stops to hold out her hand; you grasp it and she leads you up to the base of the large tree. “I think you’re more than capable of carrying this basket dear. But if you insist,” she takes the basket from your hand and guides you over the roots. With her by your side you had faith that your clumsiness would not win out this time.

That is until your foot caught on a root, sending you into her arms as the picnic basket drops to the ground.

“Please be careful around here. One wrong move and you’ll wind up with a twisted ankle.“ Her face carries some worry as she sets you back on your feet.

“You caught me and dropped the basket?” You ask, a small chuckle escaping your lips. She shakes her head, “I’ll always be the one to save you.”

“My knight in shining armor~”

[munsonson]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘐𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵, 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘗𝘞𝘗, 𝘜𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘦𝘹, 𝘚𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵!𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘷!𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦, 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 18+, 𝘎𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴!𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7

He brings her smaller hand up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it, tugging her back pack strap further up his shoulder as he lets her lead her into the thick cover of the trees, maneuvering habitually under and over low hanging branches and overgrown roots. She’s rambling about something or other, he honestly wasn’t sure. 

He was surprised when she found him at his locker between third and fourth period, looking anxious and almost scaring him for a minute.

“I wanna go,” she whispers dramatically, looking around like she was afraid someone would overhear.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asks, on alert. 

“Nothing, I just...I don’t wanna go to class, I wanna leave,” she whispers again, tugging insistently on his sleeve. “But I don’t wanna get in trouble.” He wants to scold her for frightening him like that, but he can’t help but laugh instead. He tugs her close with a gentle hand on the back of her neck, kissing the crown of her head. 

“Let’s go,” he says instead, taking her bag from her and grabbing her hand. That was how they ended up here. He lifts her hand high up into the air when he sees she’s about to trip on the same embedded rock that she trips on every time. He’s able to help her avoid it.

“But I just didn’t wanna do the quiz,” she concludes her story, turning to him. “Are you okay with skipping? I hate that I pulled you away, too.”

“Yeah, you’re a real bad influence,” he jokes. She snorts and playfully pushes him. He dramatically clutches the spot where she touched, gasping for air. “Alas, the striking blow as eternally wounded me! How can I recover?”

“Oh, ha-ha,” she says. “I barely tapped you.”

“Quite the contrary, my love, I think you left a bruise.” Eddie said, pulling the collar of his shirt to peek inside. 

“We’re here!” she chirps, letting go of his hand to race towards the small table, their spot. He smiles affectionately, seeing her take a seat in her usual spot, smiling pleasantly at him and patting the spot next to her. 

“You’ve convinced me” he says. He disposes her bag carefully onto the table, slipping his long legs over the bench and pressing himself up against her side. She giggles fondly, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“What’d you bring me for lunch?” he asks, tugging on the back pack and unzipping it. She swats at his hands as he begins to dig through it, running his hands over notebooks and a few novels he knew she was thumbing through during study hour. Sure enough, he finds a small plastic container and pulls it out. 

“Strawberries?” he asks with a laugh.

“And blueberries,” she says defensively, grabbing the container from him. 

“Sounds good, open ‘em up.”

She smiles and obliges, popping the top and setting the container down so he could pick at it. She goes to grab for a strawberry, and he swiftly swats her hand next, grabbing it and holding it up. She smiles coyly at him, going to grab it. Quickly he holds it out of reach.

“Eddie.”

“Baby,” he sings. “let me, please?”

“I can feed myself.”

“I know you can, I just like feedin’ you is all. Now, say ah,” Eddie insists. She rolls her eyes, but she obliges. He pops the strawberry into her mouth, keeping it between his thumb and forefinger so she could only bite off the tip. She smiles, chewing. He takes the other half and finishes it. The sweet taste bursts on his tongue, but he can’t help but focus more on her, licking her lips and reaching for a blueberry next. She holds it up to him, her intentions pretty clear. 

He grins and he takes it from her, catching her index finger between his lips. She lets it linger for a moment before slipping it into her mouth next, sucking off the excess juices. 

“Shit, babe,” Eddie sighs, watching her closely. She giggles. “That the real reason you wanted to play hooky? Huh?”

“Not the only reason, I also got really hungry,” she says, reaching for another strawberry. He catches her wrist, his grip tight but not tight enough to hurt. She looks innocently up at him. “Something wrong?” 

“Depends,” Eddie mumbles, dipping his head low to press soft kisses up the column of her throat. “Still hungry?”

“Not for strawberries,” she sighs, angling her head so he’d have more room. 

“No? Not for strawberries?” he coos, lightly running his tongue across her jaw. This close, her perfume was much more intoxicating, making him a little hazy, like he’d just lit one up right there beside her. “What’re you hungry for, baby?”

“Don’t make me say it,” she protests. 

He stops as sudden as he started. 

“Eddie!” she whines.

“Hey,” he says sternly, using his free hand to grab her by the jaw, trying to get her eyes to focus on him. “Hey, you know me, sweetheart. I won’t do anything unless you tell me what you want. Not a mindreader.”

“No, you’re just a tease,” she grumbles. 

“What was that?” Eddie asks. She huffs, her perfect lips puckered up by the way he held her. He was tempted to lean down and claim them, but he wanted to get his way. He would get his way, he always did. Sometimes she just needed a little coaxing. 

“I want you,” she says pathetically. “I’m hungry for you.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say something?” he mocks. He suddenly stands, hoisting her up onto the table. She squeaks in surprise. “Think we should make sure you’re nice and ready before we jump into the main course, yeah?” 

“Yeah, yes,” she says eagerly. He laughs, at last granting her a kiss. She tastes like strawberries and blueberries, especially her tongue. He grunts, gripping at her waist as a way to ground himself, slotting his knee between her legs, balancing himself on the bench best he could. They’d done this before, but he still sometimes struggled with his footing. He still couldn’t forget the time he fell off when she’d wanted to be on top. She had enough sense to catch herself on the edge of the table, but he wasn’t so fortunate, trying to ignore the ants biting at his bare ass.

Still, you learn from your mistakes. 

With her mouth distracted, he rubs his hands up and down her abdomen, catching the top of her skirt. He remembers the small hook in the front, having removed this garment three times before. He seemed to get quicker every time. He was almost tempted to ask her to leave it on, but he really wanted to see her completely bare to him. 

“Please, Eddie,” she pleads against his lips, trying to lift her hips to help. He doesn’t thank her. This was his job and his burden, she shouldn’t have to lift a finger. He’s nice enough to leave the skirt beside them and not on the grass where there were still ants. Her underwear was thin and lacy, nothing she’d usually wear to school. Clearly she had planned all of this. That little nervous act she’d played by his locker didn’t feel so authentic now. 

“Naughty girl,” he chuckles, hooking his thumb on either side and gently pulling down. She lifts her hips for him again, but this time he settles with shoving them into his back pocket. She goes to protest, saying she couldn’t go home without them, but the scolding is lost on her tongue as he leans down and spreads her thighs with his hands, exposing her lower half to him. 

She squeaks and hides her face when he leans down and takes a deep sniff. She hated it when he would do that, it was embarrassing and gross, she’d claim. He always reminded her if he was willing to put his mouth on it, taking a sniff or two shouldn’t be that much different or intimate. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he whispers, his lips brushing hers, making her flinch from the contact. “What’s got you like this, sweetheart? S’just me? Hm? Thought about me taking this sweet pussy with my mouth? Or was it my dick? Which was it?”

“Either, Eddie, God! Please do something,” she begs, tired of the waiting. 

He decides he can’t be crueler for much longer, not when he had her this close to his mouth. Fuck the strawberries and blueberries. He was sure nothing was as sweet as her pussy. 

He bends forward and licks up a thin stripe. She shivers. 

“Keep your legs spread,” he commands, releasing her thighs to open up her lips further for him, giving him the beautiful sight of her clit, her little hole waiting to be filled. She whimpered above him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. This was now just between him and her aching pussy. 

Without much else to stop him, he at last buries his face deep inside, sloppily moving his tongue around her hole, dipping it inside occasionally before moving up and sucking her clit into his mouth, greedily keeping it between his lips as he shakes his head. That always made her go crazy. Sure enough, she was crying out, her hands flying to the back of his head and lightly tugging at his hair.

He groans, releasing her clit and moving back to her hole, slurping whatever she had to give, just the taste of her enough to get him high, thinking of nothing other than trying to go deeper, trying to get as much of her on his tongue as possible. All the while she was a moaning mess above him, throwing her head back, trying to keep her thighs spread like he’s asked of her.

“Eddie...God, Eddie,” she cries, bucking her hips, begging for more friction. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he manages to get out before he’s suckling at her clit again, grazing it with his teeth. “Think I could just spend the whole day eating your delicious pussy. Get my face nice and wet, huh? All you’d be able to taste on my lips is you.” 

“Eddie,” she whines. 

“Gotta get you ready for my cock, baby, make sure you’re nice and open so it doesn’t hurt. Wouldn’t wanna hurt my baby, never,” he mumbles, slipping a finger inside with little trouble from how messy he’s made her. She gasps and keens, moving her hips as a way to get him to move. And it was just his finger. 

He gives into her as he always, though. He moves his hand fast, still playing with her clit with his mouth. After a while he’d add a second finger, then a third. By the fourth her pussy is making nice little wet noises, almost louder than her noises. That was always one of his favorite things, when he can just hear how wet and messy she is. 

“Eddie, I-I’m close,” she whimpers. “I’m so close.”

Quickly, he slides his hand from her as well as his mouth, taking a step back. His face is nice and shiny now from her essence, and his hand is almost dripping. 

“W-Wait, why?” she cries. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos again, reaching for his belt and undoing it. “Usually I’d love for you to cum all over my face, but my dick wants to get wet, too. You want that? My dick?”

“Mm, yes, Eddie, I want that,” she says, nodding her head. 

“Yeah, I knew you would. Need something nice and big to fill you up, make you feel nice and full, huh?” he asks, unbuttoning and at last pulling out his hard cock. He stifles a whimper at how sensitive it is. Just from eating her pussy it’s already rock hard. With what she left on his hands, he uses it to stroke himself, balancing himself back on the bench and yanking her down so her hips dipped over the edge of the table. 

“Put it inside, Eds, come on,” she says. “I know you want something nice and tight, too. You need to cum, too.”

“Fuck baby, hang on a sec,” Eddie says, trying to catch his breath. It would always catch him by surprise when she’d talk dirty. It was so different to how she usually was, so innocent, so sweet. But his girl was really naughty, you had to watch her. 

Eddie taps his dick against her pussy, catching her clit and making her twitch. 

“Stop teasing,” she begs him. 

“Sorry, baby, couldn’t help myself.” Eddie laughs, at last pushing himself inside. It takes him a moment to adjust, let alone her. It was always so hard to hold back and resist from pounding into her. She was this tight, wet channel, so damn hot and perfect for him. And maybe one day he would. Maybe one day he’d say fuck it and just take his pleasure for himself, use her as nothing more than a cock sleeve. 

But her blissed out face and the way she clung to him made him realize making her feel good felt better. There was nothing quite like it. 

“You good?” he makes sure to ask. She can’t speak, so she nods. He chuckles and kisses her, at last moving his hips. She moans into his mouth, hugging him tighter. He moves a little faster, finding a good enough pace that has him grunting and crying out into her mouth. “O-Oh, fuck. Yes, that’s it, baby girl. Fuck, so tight. So hot. Such a good pussy.”

“Eddie,” she babbles. It’s all she can say. He leaves her lips at last to look down and stare where they were attached, his cock disappearing and reappearing, always wetter than previous. His balls slapped soundly against her as he moved faster, taking one of his hands to rub at her clit. 

She cries out louder, her voice nearly echoing off the trees as she grips the edge of the picnic table, spurring him on to thrust harder, to now pinch her clit so she’s writhing and begging him to let her cum. All she wants to do is cum, he needs to let her.

“Why should I, baby?” Eddie asks. “We’d have to stop. And I don’t wanna stop, I wanna keep fucking you.” 

“Ed-die,” she sputters. “Let me cum, baby, please. I need it so bad.”

“Nah,” he says, grinning maliciously. “I wanna cum first.” 

“Eddie!”

“Let me cum first, baby, let me paint your walls and then I’ll let you cum, cum all over your dick,” he promises. She whines. But he can’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. He’s moving faster, harder, he has to grip her hips just to keep her from moving up. “That’s it baby, just let me use you. Get me to cum and you will, too.”

“Inside, Eddie, do it inside!”

Eddie groans loudly, hips stuttering as he feels himself empty deep inside her. It’s all hotter now, his juices mixed with hers, but he still needs to fulfill his end of the promise, and soon he’s quickly slipping out and bending down, reattaching his mouth to her clit and slipping two fingers back inside, both to keep her plugged up and help her along. 

She practically screams, bucking her hips harshly into him as he keeps her clit inside his mouth while his fingers do the rest of the work. Soon he feels her clench hard around him and her cries have turned into little whimpers. Her hips were even twitching. 

“Mm, fuck,” he says. “That was...”

“Yeah,” she says with a small laugh. “Eddie...Jesus, you were...”

“Try not to feed my ego right now, babe, I’ll need a minute,” Eddie laughs, hoisting his jeans back up over his hips. She carefully sits up, but she’s a little wobbly. He quickly puts a hand across her lower back. “Hey, give yourself a minute there, love.”

“You’re probably gonna have to carry me back, you know,” she warns.

“Eh,” he shrugs, grabbing another strawberry from the forgotten container. “What’s a little extra weight? Think I burned a few calories buried inside you.” She slaps his arm. 

[gummydummy19]

Month seven (November): shower me with love

Summary: You do your friend a favour and drag Sy with you to go house-sitting (more like mansion-sitting, but whatevs)

A/N: Oh my god I'm excited for this one... I know this literally took me a million years (apologies AGAIN). I have missed these two like crazy, so without further ago, get cozy and happy reading <3

Word Count: 4k+

(this is part seven of my series: A year in apartment 6B)

The days had been shortening, slowly but surely getting gloomier. Most people hated it. The cold and the darkness. Wet pavement, foggy windows, rosy cheeks, and leaky noses.

You found it charming. It made you appreciate the coziness of your home even more. the home you'd been living in for almost seven months now.

While the rain tapped against the floor-to-ceiling windows of your office, you found yourself thinking of that very home. You couldn't wait to finish work and rush back to your apartment, curling up on your couch with yet another sappy romance novel.

"Can I ask you a favor?" your thoughts were interrupted by Elizabeth, your chaotic but very sweet work bestie. You met her during your first week at the office. She found you cursing yourself in the copy room trying to figure out how the printer worked you guys had stuck together ever since. It was nice to have someone to have lunch with and fill you in on office gossip.

"What now Liz?", you sighed jokingly.

She looked around to see if anyone was listening before whispering "Break room, now." and walking off. You quickly got up and followed her, wondering what this was about.

"Clark's assistant asked me to housesit for him while he's on his business trip next weekend."

Clark was our boss. Handsome guy, tall, rich, and always in a freshly pressed suit. He wasn't really your type, but according to Liz he always smelled delicious. Of course, she would know, she had been secretly seeing him for over a month now. It was all very exciting.

"Okay?..." you questioned, not really understanding what the problem was.

"It's the Paris trip..."

Right.

Office romance was very exciting indeed, but also very forbidden, and even though Clark was our boss, he wasn't the boss of the company.

Of course, he asked her to come to Paris with him. You knew it was hard for them to keep away from each other, it was truly adorable to see them try though. No one would have to know. It would be their perfect weekend away.

Except that now his assistant had asked Liz to housesit for him, just to feed his cats and water his plants, and she had no good reason to say no so she didn't. Which then brought her here, in the break room, begging you to cover for her.

'Why didn't you just say no?' you asked

'I panicked! I didn't want him to suspect anything so I just went along with it. Could you please do it for me? Please?'

You wanted to help her. You really did, but the thought of leaving Sy alone for an entire weekend when he still wasn't fully healed made your stomach twist

"Oh Liz...I don't...I mean...Sy is still not..."

"You can take him with you!" she quickly spat, "Think of it as a little weekend away together. Doesn't that sound fun?"

'We're not a couple, Liz!" you blushed

"Oh please you're basically married." she shushed, "Come on, you don't have to stay all weekend just check his mail, water his plants and feed his cats, that's all! Besides, his house is gorgeous, and it has an indoor pool! Didn't the doctor say swimming was good exercise?"

"I guess he did yeah..." you mumbled, "ugh, fine! But you owe me!"

"oh, you're the best!" she squealed, jumping up and down before giving you a bone-crushing hug.

"You better bring me back some ridiculously expensive gift" you joked as you tried to contain your own smile, secretly excited about your weekend with Sy.

_______________________________________________________

'So we have to spend the weekend in some rich snob's house because he wants to fuck his employee overseas?"

"Hey! She's my friend and they are in love!" you shot back

"Oh, I'm sure they are..." he mumbled, rolling his eyes, "I would be too if I got free trips to Paris"

"Don't be such a grump, Sy"

"What about Aika? We can't just leave her all weekend?"

"Your mom is picking her up this afternoon." you simply said

"My mo-...You spoke to my mother?"

"Yeah, she's been asking to see Aika for weeks! She sends her love by the way."

Sy silently thanked the lord for making this a regular phone call and not one of those Facetime situations because he wasn't in the mood to explain why his cheeks grew red at the thought of you being friendly with his mom.

"Right..." he grumbled.

"So you're in then? The doctor did say you needed exercise, Sy. You can't just stay cooped up in the apartment. It'll be fun!" you tried to convince him.

"Alright alright, fine, I'm in"

"Yay! Pack a weekend bag, I'll pick you up after work." you told him, "Oh, and don't forget your swim shorts!"

"My what?!" Sy asked, but you had already hung up the phone, leaving him in regret already

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Holy fucking shit"

Sy's deep voice boomed through the desolate entrance hallway of the Kent Residence.

"Normally I'd tell you to watch your mouth but...damn," you added, staring at the crystal chandelier hanging from the exceptionally high ceiling.

"Hey, check this out!" Sy called from the living room.

You were so wrapped up in your surroundings, that you hadn't even noticed he wasn't standing next to you anymore.

"May I please remind you that this is my boss's place? You can't just go around and touch every- HOLY FUCK THAT'S BIG"

You found Sy with a remote in his hand, standing in front of what was probably the biggest television you had ever seen in your entire life. I mean, it genuinely bordered on a home cinema. It was ginormous.

"You know Sugar, usually when I hear a woman say something like it it's not about a TV," he grinned, making you blush before you hit him with a pillow, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"You're an idiot," you claimed, trying not to laugh but miserably failing.

"You love it," he grinned again, making you roll your eyes.

"Whatever Syverson, I'm gonna go check out the rooms."

"Hold on, I'm coming with you before you snatch the best one."

Sy was hot on your heels as you rounded the corner. His massive chest colliding with your back when you came to a sudden stop.

“Holy. Shit.”

You stared in awe at what was the most gorgeous indoor pool you had ever seen in your entire life (well in all honesty, it was the only indoor pool you had ever seen in real life)

There were floor to ceiling windows and rows of luxurious pool chairs on each side.

“Damn, does this guy crap money?”

Sy’s rough baritone snapped you out of your astonishment, earning him yet another (playful) eye-roll

You and Sy snooped wandered around the mansion for good 20 minutes before you even got to the upstairs area. There was a long hallway leading up to beautiful French doors.

"That's probably the master bedroom, right?", you questioned, motioning towards the doors.

"Probably", he mumbled, "let's go check it out."

"No wait! We shouldn't...", you grabbed his arm, "It's not nice to snoop."

"Oh please, what have we been doing for the past half hour?", he chuckled, "Won't hurt to look, right?"

"Alright fine...just in and out, no unnecessary touching."

"Funny, that's exactly what my last hook-up said."

Sy whistled behind you as the bedroom was revealed.

"Sweet baby Jesus...." you mumbled, eyes wide as you took in the gorgeous interior.

Everything looked luxurious and expensive. Panel pair curtains matched the shades of the bedsheets and the accent wall. There were fresh flowers on what looked like a pure sandalwood dresser with golden details. Everything was perfect.

"I call dibs," Sy announced, making you snap your head at him.

"Like hell! I'm the one who got us here,"

"Correction, you are the one who forced us to come here, so it would only be fair if I got the master bedroom. As a reward for coming with you," he explained, crossing his arms.

"You're joking, right? What happened to 'Don't ya worry Sugah, I'm a real Southern gentleman!'" you imitated in a thick Southern accent.

"Hey, I do not sound like that!" he pointed his finger at you and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Settle down, cowboy. I'll check the other rooms." The truth is, yeah, that master bedroom was gorgeous, but you cared about Sy and he was still hurt, so if he wanted the master bedroom, you'd gladly let him have it.

You marched toward the closest room, ready to be stunned again. But when you tried the door, you couldn't get it open. You tried the handle again, rumbling the door a little.

"Locked?" Sy questioned.

"Maybe it's a home office, there might be private papers and stuff."

"Or a sex dungeon,"

"You are sick, Syverson. Really fucking sick."

He chuckled at that and you quickly turned around again, partly to try the next door, partly to hide the smile he had managed to put on your face.

"What the...it's locked again. Could you try that one?"

You and Sy tried every single door that could possibly be a bedroom, only to find them all locked. It was getting kinda ridiculous at this point, so you decided to text Liz.

"Sneaky bitch..." you mumbled as you stared at your phone screen.

"So?" Sy asked, "what did she say?"

"She uhm,...the key isn't here, he forgot."

"He forgot?" he frowned

"Apparently..." you looked around awkwardly.

Liz was so fucking dead when she got back from her stupid Paris trip.

“Guess we’re bunking together then, roomie” Sy grinned, but when he saw you awkwardly shuffling around and stare at your feet instead of grinning back at him, he nudged your shoulder “hey, I’m kidding, I can sleep on one of the pool chairs or something it’ll be fine”

“Sy, don’t be ridiculous I’m not letting you sleep on a pool chair”

“What? I’ve slept on worse, come to think of it, its kinda look our cots back on base, it’ll feel just like home”

“Base is home?” You said it without even thinking, the words tumbled over your lips before you could stop them and you couldn’t help but pair them with a slightly saddened expression.

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I mean I kinda get that, I can imagine it grows on you”, you felt like you were treading dangerous territory, but so was he. He knew you worked so hard to make your place a home, he truly didn’t mean to-

“Wanna go for a swim?” You interrupted his thought spiral

“I’d love to”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You dipped your toes in the water, finding it perfectly heated.

You had gotten changed first, covering yourself in your fluffy bathrobe before heading for the pool and waiting for Sy there, while impatiently checking the temperature.

"How is it?"

Once again the deep bass of Sy's voice pulled you back to the present.

"It's perfect. I'm not surprised, to be honest, he probably has some fancy heating syste-euhm...", your voice trailed off when you saw Sy's beautifully beefy chest. His baggy swim trunks hung low on his hips and the hair from his chest trailed down all the way to-

"Sugar?"

"P-perfect", you babbled, "UH- the water! It's perfect...nice and warm"

He threw his signature grin your way and you swore you felt your knees buckle. That grin was almost too much to handle on a regular day. The grin + him shirtless + THE SNAIL TRAIL???? Yeah you didn't stand a chance.

"You gonna swim with the robe on, Sugar?"

"Jeez, Captain if you wanted me to strip that bad all you had to do was ask"

Alright, you may have sounded confident, but this was all fake it till you make it.

Sy jumped in the water to hide his grin, nearly splashing you in the process.

You threw your robe on one of the pool chairs and your eyes found his right as he resurfaced. He took you in, you could tell. For a second you had the urge to cover yourself up, hiding the parts your black bikini failed to cover, but you opted against it, desperately trying to keep the confident act up.

It was quiet for a second or two while you just looked at each other.

"Perfect...", his voice was barely above a whisper, "The uh..., the water. You were right, the temperature is perfect."

You couldn't help but smile as you realized he was just as nervous as you were. Finally, you fully got in the pool too, relaxing a bit as the warm water surrounded you.

"I could get used to this", you sighed.

"We could put a kiddy pool in our living room If that makes ya feel better?"

You snorted at that, "Yeah, and then have Aika jump in and our entire place smelling like wet dog? No thanks, that kinda takes away the whole relaxing aspect in my opinion"

"Oh alright, Miss Fancy", he splashed some water your way.

"Fuck SY! I wasn't gonna wet my hair!" you shrieked.

"What kinda bullshit is that? Why would you get in the pool if you didn't wanna wet your hair?", his eyebrows furrowed, "too late now anyway, Sugar" he chuckled, splashing you again, right in your eyes this time.

"Ah, shit!" your hands flew to your face as you frantically rubbed your eyes as you turned away from him to shield yourself.

"Shit! Sorry, Sugar, u okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine you fucking idiot", realization didn't hit you until you saw the black streaks on your palms, "Fuck, I was wearing makeup", you mumbled.

Alright. You knew it was ridiculous, wearing makeup to the pool. But it wasn't a lot or anything, just some mascara and a little bit of concealer here and there. You weren't even planning on it, honest to god. But when you thought about Sy seeing you in a bikini for the first time you couldn't help but feel a bit insecure, so you needed something to bump your confidence, just a little bit.

You should have known boys will always be boys. And there's no keeping it dry when Sy is around anyway.

"Sugar? You can turn back around now, I promise no more splashing",

Ugh fuck fuck fuck...You still had your back to him. You couldn't turn around now, you probably looked like a panda. And you didn't want him to know you wore makeup to the pool, he would never stop laughing at you.

"I uh...I think I'm gonna get out...I'm getting kinda cold", you tried to keep your face away from him as you made your way to the ladder, but as per usual, he was too quick for you.

"What? The pool is heated, besides, I can keep ya warm. I swear I'm sorry Sugar, c'mon don't leave?", you felt his big hands circle your waist under the water, pulling your floating body closer to him in a matter of seconds. Your back hit his warm fuzzy chest and you stiffled a moan.

Okay, he wasn't gonna let you leave, new plan...

You desperately wiped under your eyes, hoping to god he wouldn't see.

"Wh-are you...are you crying?", he sounded genuinely concerned, "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to Sugar I promise, lemme see", he carefully turned you around in his arms

"No no, Sy you didn't hurt me, I'm not crying I just..." your eyes met his and for a second he looked even more confused, "Why do you look like Batman?", he grinned.

"Ugghhhh..." you groaned in embarrassment, "I just...I just tried out a new mascara this morning and I forgot I had it on...I have makeup wiped in my bag upstairs just lemme go take it off", you rambled trying to get out of his grip but he didn't budge.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Sugar, just do that later."

"Sy, I'm not being ridiculous I LOOK ridiculous, just let me go fix it I'll be back in a minute."

You tried leaving again, but this time his big paws grabbed you by the face, gently but still firm.

"You don't look ridiculous, Sugar...C'mere..."

For a second you thought he was going to kiss you and your eyes fell shut, but instead, you felt his thumbs wipe away the dark streaks.

"There ya go...all better", he smirked. "No more Batman."

"Ugh, shut up", now it was your turn to splash him.

"Oh don't start what you can't finish, dear." his devilish smirk was enough to make you squeal as you backed up.

"No, Sy come on! My hair!", you swam as fast as you could, and just when you thought you could get away, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle.

"Oh no ya don't", he pulled you back to him within seconds, and just like that...your hair wasn't the only thing getting wet against your will...

"I think your face could use another wash," was all he said before pushing your shoulders down under the water, you came back up immediately gasping for air.

"I can't believe you did that!" you sputtered as he just stood there laughing. You didn't even think before jumping on his back, trying to push him down. Looking back that may have been a dumb idea because the captain didn't budge. If anything, it just made him laugh harder. "Aww, isn't that cute? Well, Sugar if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me..."

"No, Sy", you felt his arms tighten around your legs, "no no no no no n-" he dove underwater, keeping his promise and indeed taking you with him.

"T-truce" you breathed out the second you got up for air, "truce truce truce!", you were out of breath, probably looking like a drowned panda bear and the chlorine mixed with your leftover mascara was stinging in your eyes, "fucking hell, this was not as relaxing as I had in mind", you muttered to yourself.

Sy chuckled, obviously he was looking handsome as ever while you felt like you looked like you were just spit out by something.

"C'mere...truce accepted," he gently pulled you against him again, his fingertips trailing down your sides to your thighs, 'up', he commanded and you unsurely wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him guide you. "there ya go, good girl."

You felt your cheeks heat up and told yourself it was just from his body heat.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and snuggled into the crook of his neck while he slowly floated the both of you through the warm water. A wave of exhaustion suddenly came over you. You were too tired and comfortable to overthink what exactly was happening.

_____________________________________________________________

"Hey Sugar..."

"Hmmm?"

"I really think we just get out now..."

It took you a while to realize you were still in the pool, still in Sy's arms.

"Hm fuck...did I...did I fall asleep?"

"Only a little"

"How long was I out?"

"A good 20 minutes, never seen ya shut up for that long, had to check if you were still breathing"

You wanted to make a snarky comment but all you could muster was a grin before finally peeling yourself off of him and getting out of the water.

"Im starving," Sy said as he reached for his towel.

"Yeah, me too. Do you wanna order pizza? I'm too scared to touch anything in that kitchen"

"Sounds good, probably for the best anyway, don't need ya setting the place on fire"

You threw one of your towels at his face, "Shut it, Syverson. I'm showering first and if I were you i'd be nice to me cause I won't hesitate to use up all the hot water."

"S'fine, Sugar. I'm a military man. Nothing I can't handle", he grinned and watched you turn around with a smirk on your face.

"I could probably do with a cold shower anyway..." he muttered to himself as he watched you walk away, thanking all that was good and pure for not letting you notice the massive hard-on he was hiding while you were snoozing in his arms.

"You order, I shower", you yelled back, "I'll take pepperoni, Cap!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

45 minutes later you and Sy sat on the massive suede couch, freshly showered, clad in fluffy white bathrobes, and munching on pizza.

"That's such bullshit!" you laughed

"Is not! I swear to you, Sugar! He just stood there in nothing but a thong. Traumatized the entire squad."

"Where the hell did he get a thong in the middle of the desert?!"

"Fuck do I know?! He musta brought it with him?"

You were dying laughing, like actually proper laughing. Tears nearly in your eyes, face red hot, snorting out laughing.

"Sy, there is no way one of your men walked around on base in the middle of the night in nothing but a thong."

"Sugar, I swear to ya, I'm a lot'a things, but a liar ain't one of 'em."

"So what did you do?"

"Sent the fucker home."

"Maybe that was his plan all along? Maybe he just wanted to get sent home?"

"Maybe, Sugar. Maybe." he took another swig of his beer as you chomped down the last bite of your pizza and a comfortable silence settled over you.

"I think I should probably head to bed, I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, me too", he agreed, "I'll just take some things out'a the room and then I'll be good to sleep here."

"Sy, please, don't be silly", you argued, "I was drooling on your shoulder barely an hour ago, I'm sure we can share a bed for one night."

He chuckled at that, "Alright I guess you got a point there, but only if you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure genius, but no funny business", you pointed your finger at him.

"Yes ma'am, Roger that", he smirked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Skincare done, teeth brushed, hair blow dried, perfume sprayed, pajamas on.

Alright, okay. There's only so much you can do to get ready for bed.

"You're gonna have to go out there sooner or later" you spoke softly to your own reflection.

Jesus Christ this was ridiculous. This was YOUR idea. It's just sleeping. You did it before. Earlier tonight, in fact. Just get out there, get in the bed, close your eyes, and go to sleep. Nothing special.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you wanted it to be special. What if he didn't? Oh god, what if he DID?

You took a deep breath and finally opened the door.

"Sorry I took so long, I couldn't find my night cre-...Sy?"

There he was. Bulging shoulders on full display, the muscles on his back moving with each breath, the waistband of his boxers peeking out just above where the sheets covered his butt.

His bearded face snuggled into his pillow, his large arms curling underneath it.

You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at him. The true definition of a gentle giant. It was beyond you how someone could look so fucking sexy and so fucking cute at the same time.

You finally crawled into bed next to him, careful not to wake him up. But as you turned over on your side to turn your nightlight off, you suddenly his beefy arm snaked its way around you and pulled you close to him.

You barely managed to flip the switch before feeling his warm chest against your back again. His beard tickled the back of your neck a little making you grin, soft snores telling you he was still fast asleep..

It felt so good, so safe, so warm, so comfortable...you dozed off with a smile on your face, and not a care in the world...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[yikesharringrove]

steve being absolutely whipped for steve is my favorite thing ever. like ok what if they were friends and billy likes steve, and steve's oblivious to it but billy will drop whatever he's doing to make steve's like a the tiniest bit easier and it's so cute

It all starts with homework.

Homework Steve dropped on the floor in the hallway, to be more specific.

He fucking tripped and his shit went everywhere, and he was scrambling to pick it all up, when he noticed another pair of hands shuffling with his papers.

“Thanks, Hargrove,” he muttered.

“Most of these are wrong.” Steve snatched the math worksheet out of his hands, his face hot as he stuffed it in his backpack.

He tried to push past the absolutely solid wall that was Billy Hargrove, but the other boy kept blocking him.

“C’mon, I’ll help you.”

“I don’t need any help.”

It was a fucking lie. He knew he’d gotten most of the problems wrong. They were working on some weird formula that had to do with area, or volume, or something like that. And Steve really didn’t understand it.

But he didn’t want any help from fucking Hargrove, who would just spread it around the school that Steve Harrington is in remedial geometry as a senior.

But Hargrove had reached into Steve's backpack, and yanked out the assignment, using the pencil he had stored behind his ear to erase Steve’s shitty work.

“All you have to do is multiply the length by the width by the height. And that’s volume.”

Steve had added those three values and then cubed them. It had taken him hours.

“I know.”

Billy gave him a scathing look.

“Meet me in the library at lunch, and we’ll fix it.”

-

Steve wasn’t actually expecting Billy to be there, but he was. And they fixed Steve’s math.

And he got an A on the homework, his first one all year.

So it became a thing. They’d do Steve’s math homework at lunch together. And Billy would walk him through the tough problems, and clap him on the back when he got something by himself.

His teacher noticed his progress, and congratulated him on it.

“I got a tutor,” he told her.

They were studying on some random Thursday together, Billy with his nose in some worn-out novel, periodically peeking over the pages to take a look at Steve's math homework.

He was doing much better, and now Billy only had to silently point to an incorrect answer for Steve to go back and fix it.

Steve's stomach rumbled, breaking the silence,

"Jesus, Harrington. I think your stomach is trying to eat itself."

Steve rolled his eyes, but he smiled at Billy.

"Seriously, just eat lunch."

There technically was a rule against food in the library, but the librarian liked Billy, and tended to turn a blind eye to whatever he was doing at his usual back table.

Steve checked his watch.

"I'll just grab something later. I need to finish this."

He kept working on his math. His stomach growled again.

Billy sighed.

He dug into his bag, pulling out the crumpled brown paper bag Susan has passed him in the morning. She always made him lunch after a rough night with his dad.

Consolation prize, he guesses.

He pulled out the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, placing one half on Steve's open textbook.

Steve looked at him with round eyes.

"Nah dude, that's your lunch. I can get something after school."

"Like hell. Just eat the sandwich, Harrington."

Steve scarfed the first half like a small animal, and Billy glared at him until he had the second half.

He'll be okay, he can just sneak some food at home before his dad gets back from work.

-

"Harrington! How many times," Coach yelled from the sidelines. "You're leaving yourself too open!"

Steve was breathing hard, sprinting down the court after being bowled over by one of the guys on the other team.

It was deafening in the gym, the stands packed full.

Steve was playing like shit. The other team was dogging him, stealing the ball from him, blocking his every move.

He was point guard to Billy's shooting guard.

Billy yanked him by the back of the jersey, pulling him back to mutter in his ear.

Steve nodded once.

It was a good play, a simple pick and roll.

The other team scored, and Billy nodded at Steve.

They brought it down the court, and Billy made eye contact with Steve as he moved to set a pick on the asshole guard that kept knocking Steve down.

Steve moved, sprinting to the basket to finally make a fucking shot.

As he moved, the guard followed, but there was Billy.

They collided hard, and Billy got knocked flat on his ass.

His head cracked against the wooden floor, and he saw stars for a second.

He was fucking pleased as punch to see the other guard flat on his back, too. Looking as dazed as Billy felt.

There was a hand in front of his face, and he took it, allowing Steve to bring him to his feet, a look of concern in his big eyes.

"You okay, dude?"

"You score?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm fine." He clapped Steve on the shoulder, jogging back to get in the game, shaking off the dizzy spell.

-

Billy paid no mind to the phone ringing.

He was sat at the kitchen table, finishing up his chemistry homework.

Sometimes he and Max did homework at the kitchen table together. Neil would give approving looks when he walked by if he saw Billy helping her with something she pretended not to understand.

"Hargrove residence." Neil was the only one who answered the phone that way. The rest of them said Hargrove-Mayfield.

Billy tightened his grip on his pencil.

He could feel his dad's eyes on the back of his head, standing straight against the wall where the phone was mounted.

"Yes, he is here."

Fuck.

What could Billy have done now? He's been a model fucking citizen for the past week.

And no one can trace that fucking fire under the bleachers back to him. Besides, he put it out before anything could really get burned.

"Billy, the phone's for you."

At least if he was in trouble, the person wouldn't be asking to speak with him.

Billy stood up, ignoring Max's questioning look.

Billy took the phone, not making eye contact with his dad.

"Hey! Sorry, I know this is weird, but I got your phone number from Max a little while ago, and I know usually we just study during school, but I am so fucking confused on this assignment. And I'll pay you! I'll even order food if you want to come over to help me. Oh! This is Steve by the way."

As if Billy wouldn't recognize his rambling.

"Um, sure. I can help you." He looked at his dad. "And no need to pay me."

"Just try to get out of here without any money. I dare you. So, can you come over? Tonight? This is due tomorrow."

Billy wasn't supposed to leave on school nights.

"Can you give me a second? Please?" He didn't wait for Steve to respond, he just lowered the phone.

"Dad," he started.

"How long have you been tutoring that Harrington boy?" Neil's voice was unreadable.

"A few weeks. Mostly at school. He needs some help tonight, and uh, offered to pay me if I come by his place."

"And you said you didn't want to be paid?"

"Yes, sir."

Billy tried his very best not to flinch when his dad patted him on the shoulder.

"That's good. Rubbing elbows with the Harrigntons. I was wondering why they didn't press charges when you beat that boy to a pulp."

Billy fucking hated when Neil brought that shit up.

It wasn't his fault he has a hard time controlling his rage. If anything, it's Neil's fault for slapping him around before sending him on an errand.

Steve just happened to kinda get in the way.

But Billy apologized, and Steve said he got over it, and clearly he did, if he's inviting Billy over to his house to work on his homework.

He raised the phone back up to his ear.

"Sure, I can help you. But I can't be out late. It's a school night."

Neil nodded approvingly, and Billy flipped him the bird the second he turned his back.

"Yeah, whatever. The front door's unlocked, just come upstairs when you're here."

Steve didn't even wait for a reply before he ended the call, and Billy quietly placed the phone back on the receiver.

He cleaned up his own homework, and took his bag with him.

"Billy," his dad said as he was halfway out the back door. "Curfew's at 8:30. And I'll be locking the door."

"Yes, sir."

-

Harrington's house is fuckin' huge.

Billy should've expected it, with Steve's family being as well connected as they were.

He let himself into the house, as Steve had told him to do, and was immediately met with a slight woman, staring at him like he'd just walked uninvited into her home.

"Uh," he said. Why the fuck would Steve tell him to just come in? "I'm Billy? Billy Hargrove. Steve's tutor."

And then her face brightened, and holy shit, Steve looks exactly like his mom.

"He is upstairs, I'll show you." She waved him to follow behind her and she took off up the stairs.

Billy scrambled to kick his boots off and raced after her.

She was lean like Steve, with long legs and insanely thick,dark brown hair that went clear down to her ass.

(Steve even kinda has his mom's perfect ass.)

She knocked on the door to Steve's room, even though it was slightly ajar, and let herself in.

Steve was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands, all curled up and sitting cross-legged on his chair.

"Tesoro, il tuo amico è qui."

Steve turned, and he fucking beamed at Billy.

"Grazie, Mamma." He waved Billy over in the same motion his mother had done downstairs.

Billy felt awkward in the room, and his face felt hot, and his palms were sweaty.

"Avete bisogno di qualcosa?" She asked, and holy shit, how has it taken Billy this long to realize that Steve and his mother were not even speaking fucking English to one another.

He knew he was staring.

"No, grazie."

She smiled again at Billy as she left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

"Damn, your mom's hot," was all Billy could think to say.

Luckily, it worked. Steve rolled his eyes, turning back to his work and shaking his head. But Billy could see a tiny smile on his face.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't start that shit and just help me with this, okay?"

Billy peered over his shoulder.

Steve was working on an English assignment, the same one Billy had completed last week.

It was a questionnaire about the Shakespeare play they had read in class, Othello.

Billy knew it was grueling, fifty multiple choice, ten matching, and three essay questions.

He had the book open text to him, and there had been lines and passages highlighted and annotated.

"This shit was nasty. I did it last week."

Steve scrunched his brows up at Billy.

"You're in English 12? How? You're a junior?"

Billy shrugged.

"That's just what I tested into when I moved here. I was on a fast track in California." Yeah, he would've probably gotten to graduate a semester early, if they had stayed.

"Okay, well, then you can help me. Because I can barely read as it is, and this stupid Shakespeare stuff just doesn't even make sense."

He put his head down on his desk, leaning his forehead against the questionnaire and groaning loudly.

"It's like another language. You have to learn to translate it. I mean, you and your mom were speakin' something, so you know how to do this."

"Yeah, and that's kinda the problem." Steve sat up, looking at Billy. Billy moved to sit on the corner of his desk. "My mom's from Italy, and I didn't even speak English until I was like, six. Regular English has never made sense to me, and then they give us this shit." He flipped the book closed harshly.

Billy had to bite his tongue, because the only thing he could think to say was you sure do talk a lot for someone who allegedly doesn't understand English. But he didn't really wanna be a dick right now.

"Okay. Here's what will do. We'll answer as many questions as you can. Once we get to the ones about specific passages, I'll read them in plain terms, and you'll be fine, okay?"

Steve nodded glumly, but he picked up his pencil.

"Okay, dude. You can definitely answer this first question."

Question one: Who wrote Othello.

Steve circled the correct answer and Billy pat him on the head. Steve glared at him playfully.

They went through the questions.

Some were easy, and clearly all Steve needed was a cheerleader, because he circled the correct ones right away.

But then, some were fucking difficult.

"Okay, question 36: What is the significance of Othello's handkerchief?"

Steve flipped through the book desperately.

"What fucking handkerchief?"

-

It was a little past eight, and Steve was just barely halfway through the packet.

He was clearly trying not to get frustrated, as he came across harder and harder questions, understanding less and less.

"So, in the passage, Iago is basically trying to turn Othello against Desdemona. He's saying that if she deceived her father, she would deceive Othello."

"But, I don't get why she lied to her dad. Like, what was the lie?"

"He didn't want her to get married to Othello, but she did anyway."

Steve just looked desperately at Billy.

"So, she did cheat on Othello? And Iago is telling him about it?"

"No, she didn't Iago is trying to fuck with Othello."

"Wait, so Desdemona did nothing wrong, and then Othello still kills her?" He looked incredulous.

"Yeah, man. It's Shakespeare. In the tragedies, everyone dies. In the comedies, everyone fucks."

"Why?"

"Because it was Elizabethan England, and everyone was fucking and dying, and half of these stories are based on the Greek plays that came before, in which everyone just fucked and died."

"I wish my life was like that. I just wanna fuck. And then die." Steve put his pencil down, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sorry, man. That I dragged you here to help me with this. I'm just fucking dumb."

Billy smacked Steve in the back of the head, and he yelped, glaring at Billy and rubbing the spot where Billy had merely tapped him.

"You're not stupid. This is hard. Now, let's keep going. This isn't gonna finish itself."

-

Billy ended up finally leaving Steve's close to ten.

His mom thanked him for helping Steve, and shoved a wad of cash in his hand that Billy felt too awkward to count until he had parked in his spot behind his house.

Jesus Christ, she gave him fifty bucks.

He put it with the rest of his stash, in the locked glove compartment, and wiggled into the back seat.

He doesn't doubt that his dad had locked the house promptly at curfew. He doesn't doubt that he was gonna get his shit rocked tomorrow after school when he showed up back at home.

But Steve had finished his assignment, and had flung his arms around Billy when it was finally over, and it's okay. Billy can take a few smacks.

-

"Hey!"

Billy turned to see Steve rushing towards him down the hall. His cheeks were pink and he was beaming.

He thrust the assignment from last night into Billy's hands, and there was a big red A- on the top.

"That's my best English grade, like, ever. Thank you! Seriously, Billy. Thank you so much. I'm taking you out for dinner this weekend, okay? To say thank you. I'll buy you a burger and a milkshake, and anything you want."

"Nah, man. Your mom paid me last night, it's okay."

Steve shook his head, his hair flopping onto his forehead, and he pushed it back, still grinning. Fuck, he's so pretty.

"Can it. We're going to the dinner and you're gonna eat fries until you puke, okay? We're going Friday."

Friday.

Billy's supposed to help Susan trim all the hedges on Friday.

Okay, if he wakes up early, he can do the front before school, and if he comes home during his free period, he could-

"Sure, Pretty Boy. Friday."

-

He was up before the sun, cutting hedges.

He had to shower before school, which he fucking hates doing, because he doesn't have enough time to properly do his hair in the mornings.

But he finished them.

He finished them all.

And he told Susan such when she handed him his pity packed lunch that morning.

She thanked him, and his dad narrowed his eyes.

"Why?" He barked.

Billy tried to act casual.

"Couldn't sleep, thought I'd just get it out of the way."

Neil didn't stop staring suspiciously at Billy until he and Max had closed the backdoor behind them.

"Why did you really do all that this morning?" Max asked when they were safe in the car.

"Jus' have plans after school."

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, that's rich. You're going on a date."

Well, he hopes so.

But that's never gonna happen.

The school day seemed to pass as slowly as fucking possible. He was anxious all day, fidgety and nervous, and a tiny bit sweaty.

Steve was leaning against his car outside when Billy finally stomped away from the school, and he smiled brightly at Billy.

"Should we just meet at the diner?"

"Yeah. I gotta drive Max, so." He gestured lamely.

"Okay. See you in a bit." Steve tapped the hood of the Camaro, and normally Billy would've threatened to bite anyone that knocked into his car like that, but Steve can kinda do whatever he wants as far as Billy is concerned.

Billy made sure to idle in front of the house, making sure Max got inside alright, and making sure his dad watched him drop her off.

He'd be in worse shit if Neil thought Billy made Max walk home by herself.

But he sped back into town the second the screen door slammed closed behind her.

Steve already had a booth when Billy arrived, and he waved Billy down enthusiastically, as if Billy didn't hone in on him the second he walked through the door.

"Hey, man! Glad you could make it," he said, as if he didn't insist that Billy make it.

Billy grunted at him, shuffling into the booth on the other side of Steve.

"Thanks again, dude. My grades have never been so good. My dad even said I've been doing alright, which is, I think, the nicest thing he's ever said to me."

"Yeah. It's no problem."

"Why don't people know you're smart?" Steve's question took Billy off guard a little bit. "You act like you're a dumb jock, like me."

"You're not dumb. And it's just self-preservation, I guess. I don't need every pretty boy in this school to know I'm a good tutor. Already got my hands full."

Steve's cheeks went the faintest bit pink, and if Billy didn't know better, he'd say that Steve's casual shifting of position was more like a little squirm.

"I guess that makes sense," Steve mumbled, picking at the edge of the menu in front of him.

Their waiter came at that moment, and Steve ordered right away, rattling off what he wanted like it was second nature.

"So the usual, then?" The waiter winked at Steve, and Steve flushed a little deeper, looking shyly at Billy.

"I'll have the same." The waiter nodded, and swept off with their menus.

"So, you're here a lot?" Billy didn't want to look too far into it, but he was ravenous for little scraps of information about Steve. A little peek into his life.

"Yeah. I come here for dinner when I'm home alone a lot. Cooking for one person is kinda lame, and I like being somewhere that's not so. Quiet."

"How often you home alone?"

"Every few weeks. My mom travels around with my dad a lot, but she feels bad about leaving me on my own. Doesn't really stop her, thought." And Steve looked positively glum, like a pouty little cat caught outside in the rain.

"Well, next time you're alone let me know. I don't have too much going on. Usually."

Steve brightened, looking at Billy with a tiny mile on his face.

"Yeah? You don't have better friends then some dumbass you tutor?"

"I don't tutor a dumbass. And in case you hadn't noticed, I don't have many friends. Only been in town for a few months."

"I've been here my whole life, and I don't have many friends, either."

"That's their problem, then."

Steve beamed at him.

[k8-marsh]

updates!!!

hey guys!! recently ive been ill so its given me a chance to work more on my game :) ive been editing it heavily on a separate project so you probably havent noticed any changes, but i've replaced the old code now :D i've changed quite a lot of things and i have more plans to improve/add things!

character customisation:

originally i couldn't decide whether you play as max or an original character, i decided to go just customisable route because then you can always name yourself 'max'! there's no visual customisation because this is a text-based game, but you can choose your name and also your pronouns that characters can use for you :)

(for some events you can also choose outfits and things like that!)

dialogue:

i added dialogue so it's a little longer and a lot less dry :D i'll be adding more detail to each interaction whenever so yeah! im happy about this one

hey warren fans

i actually added a scene with him in the classroom now! you can also sit with him at lunch but that's not COMPLETE so....

FINALLY finished the cafeteria scene (warren in progress! :)

i finished the cafeteria scenes for kate, victoria and steph so far! :) i have plans for what will happen after that, but i believe it's still a little buggy so i gotta work on that.

anyways, thank you for the interest, i'll continue working on it when i have the energy, although i think soon i might consider making a ren'py project (visual novel), or a game more focused on one character :)

[candycandy00]

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 9

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! I’m posting the first chapter just to check for interest. Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

Work at Terrian's house the next day was awkward and slow. Anna was obviously still upset over Nariah, and Terrian flitted around nervously, making pathetic and desperate attempts to get Anna to talk to him.

"Look, girls! I'm breaking out the steak reserves for lunch today!" he called at one point, holding up two large slabs of frozen meat.

Steak was Anna's favorite. She had looked up then, apparently tempted to say something, but she held her tongue and continued dusting.

You waited until Terrian stepped out of the room, then turned to Anna. "How long are you going to keep this up? He already apologized."

Anna looked down. "I know. I'm not really angry at him anymore. I just don't know what to say to him. Yesterday I admitted for the first time that I'm in love with him. Now I feel insecure around him."

"Well you're not making any progress like this. Just act like you did before. He's worried sick right now."

"Are you making progress with Vartan?" Anna asked suddenly.

You were caught off guard by the question. You stumbled over your words for a moment before nearly choking out a quiet, "Sort of."

Anna grinned. "Oh really? Are you sleeping with him already?"

"Of course not! I made him a bologna sandwich, okay?"

"Whatever you say," Anna laughed, nudging you with her elbow.

Terrian's doorbell rang loudly through the hall. You laid down your dusting rag and stood up, straightening the too-short skirt of your maid uniform and making your way to the door. You sighed as you pulled it open. "Yes, can I help-“

You were immediately silenced when you realized the person standing on Terrian's doorstep was a male half-breed with silver chin-length hair that framed his pale face. His narrow eyes were ice-blue and a strange shade of violet that you had never seen before, not even on a half-breed.

"A doctor lives here, correct?" His voice was lighter than Vartan's.

You weren’t sure how to answer. What if Terrian had gotten into trouble somehow? Perhaps confirming his location wasn't a good idea. "Um... I..."

The half-breed leaned in close. "This is important. Tell the doctor to come and examine my..." He stopped there, as if he had no idea how to finish the statement. He glanced back, and you noticed the thin young woman standing behind him. She was very clearly human, and her face, while pretty, was darkened by visible sadness.

"Is she sick?" you asked.

The half-breed took the woman's hand and gently, too gently for a half-breed, pulled her closer to the door. "She needs medical attention, yes."

You stepped aside. "Come on in. I'll get the doctor." You led them through the hall and to the living room, shrugging at a very shocked Anna on the way. The couple sat down on the couch as you ran to fetch Terrian.

You and Anna followed Terrian back into the living room and stood on either side of him. The woman introduced herself as Sophie. 

"I'm pregnant," she said, quietly but bluntly.

You stifled a gasp. Terrian's face lit up. "You are? That's amazing! Pregnancies are so rare. You must be immune to the chemicals in the water."

Sophie did not share his enthusiasm. "I didn't believe it at first. I missed a couple of periods and then a friend gave me an old pregnancy test to try. After that, I still didn't believe. Then Keon gave me a Pagoda test, and it came back positive. He says there's no way it can be wrong."

You noticed that Sophie seemed so sad. Her voice sounded as if it was threatening to break at any moment.

"So, do you want me to monitor the pregnancy then?" Terrian asked.

"No," the half-breed spoke up, "we want you to terminate it."

The smile Terrian had been wearing dissolved. "What?"

"You are capable of terminating the pregnancy, are you not?" the half-breed asked.

Terrian looked directly at Sophie. "Is this what you want to do?"

The half-breed opened his mouth, but Sophie put a hand on his arm. "Please, Keon," she said weakly, "let me talk to him. I'll explain."

The half-breed, Keon, looked at her with a flash of anger in his eyes.

Sophie didn't move her hand. "Please," she repeated, and Keon stood up. He walked out of the living room and closed the door behind him. You had never seen a half-breed do as a human asked before. Well, not besides Vartan.

"Keon is the father, as you've probably guessed," Sophie began, her voice still shaky. "We met three years ago. He showed up at my door one day out of the blue, with a proposition.”

“A proposition?” Anna asked. 

Sophie nodded. “Apparently some half breeds make arrangements with specific humans. They offer protection from the other half breeds, and in exchange the humans satisfy their needs. It’s a mutual arrangement, or at least ours is. I don’t know what would have happened if I’d refused. But I agreed to the terms, and I’ve been able to walk through the city without fear. They call it ‘claiming’. I’ve been claimed by Keon, so no other half breed will touch me.”

Your heart was beating fast as the words sank into your brain. Half-breeds could choose specific humans? Other half-breeds would stay away? Was that what Vartan had done to you?

"It's not so bad," Sophie continued. "Keon has always been relatively gentle with me. But now..." Her voice trailed off as she looked down at her own stomach.

"So he doesn't want his pet to have a baby?" Anna asked with a tinge of venom in her voice.

Sophie chuckled bitterly. "He was so furious and disgusted that I thought he would kill me."

Anna's face was turning red, her hatred for the half-breeds boiling beneath her skin.

"But he didn't kill me," Sophie went on, "Instead he started frantically asking around for a human doctor. One of the other half-breeds apparently told him about a clinic they had shut down, and that they had heard the doctor survived. That's when he told me I have to have an abortion."

"But why?" you asked.

Sophie met your eyes, and you could almost see the agony and rage festering there, held back by her quiet sorrow. "The half-breeds are forbidden to breed, at all. If the Pagoda were to find out I'm pregnant, they would execute Keon and myself immediately. The baby would die anyway. If we somehow managed to hide the pregnancy until the child was born, the Pagoda would give it a gruesome death if they ever found it. We would have to live in constant fear. Keon said that we should end it now, before..." Her voice finally broke, and tears streamed down her face. "Before we... grow to care for the child," she finished.

Terrian stood up. "Alright, I understand. I can examine you in one of the guest rooms and make preparations."

Sophie nodded. "Thank you, doctor. Please just give me a moment."

"Of course," Terrian told her. "My nurses will help you when you're ready."

He left the room. You and Anna began to follow him out, eager to give the woman privacy while she regained her composure. "It's not fair, is it?" she asked, and you stopped to look back at her. Sophie’s eyes were red from crying and her hands were shaking. "It's a miracle, that I'm immune to the chemicals, that I can give birth. It's my miracle but... I have to kill it." She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Keon, who had been waiting patiently in the hall, walked into the living room and sat down beside Sophie. He stared at her wordlessly, and you saw a faint hint of pain in his face. He looked as if he wanted to reach out to the trembling woman beside him, to comfort her, but his hands remained stiffly by his sides. You found it sad that he had been sleeping with the woman for three years, yet he had no idea how to hold her.

Terrian examined Sophie several minutes later, and afterward told her to come back in two days for the procedure to end the pregnancy. He had to gather up the tools and medicines needed to ensure her safety. The couple thanked him and left, leaving the rest of the day clear for you and Anna to finish your cleaning duties.

Two hours of mopping and dusting later, Anna disappeared. You searched the kitchen, hall, and three rooms before hearing voices coming from behind one of the bedroom doors on the second floor. You pressed your ear against the door and listened.

"I'm not angry with you," you heard Anna say. "It's not your fault that Terrian kept you a secret."

"But my presence bothers you," Nariah's lovely voice responded.

"Well, I'm still getting used to... your kind."

"Don't worry," Nariah said, "you're certainly not the first human to regard me with fear and unease." Anna said nothing in response, and after a brief pause, Nariah spoke again. "Did you know that half-breeds are not allowed to meet their human parents?"

Anna must have shaken her head, because Nariah went on. "Most often, the human parents are executed shortly after the birth of the half-breed. But sometimes, very rarely, the human is kept alive if the offspring is viewed as exceptional by the Pagoda, for further breeding. I do not understand what their standards are, or how they determine such things, but I was considered one of these 'exceptional offspring'. My human mother was kept alive for three years after she gave birth to me."

You could hear Anna's breath hitch as she gave a small gasp. "You met her, didn't you?"

"Yes," Nariah said softly, "I did. One of the other half-breeds told me where to find her, probably more out of malice than of kindness. I searched the Tower, my curiosity overpowering my sense of obedience to the Pagoda. We half-breeds were forbidden from visiting the breeding and containment rooms, you see. But I found her, huddled in a metal contraption that looked like a cage. She looked so much like me, I knew in an instant that she was indeed my mother."

There was another pause, then Anna finally asked, "What happened?"

"I approached the cage, my heart pounding, and looked her in the eyes. At that moment, I called her 'mother'. I don't know why. We were never taught to use such sentimental terms, and I had only heard the word on the lips of the humans in the city. Maybe it was some buried human instinct. Regardless, she had heard me, and she screamed in terror. She recoiled from me until her back hit the other side of the cage. I was... repulsive to her."

Tears formed in your eyes as you listened outside the door. Anna remained silent.

When Nariah continued, her beautiful voice was slightly darker. "My mother began shrieking, 'Get it away from me! Get that monster away!' and she wouldn't stop until a Pagoda, my father, appeared behind her with a blade in his hand. He reached in between the metal bars and slit her throat, silencing her. She died in the cage, still looking at me with horror in her eyes."

For several minutes, the room was quiet and you heard nothing. Then footsteps abruptly headed toward the door and it slid open. Anna walked out of the room, her face red and puffy. She had been crying. "Oh, hey," she said when she noticed the hall wasn't empty.

"Sorry, I listened in," you told her, wiping your own eyes.

"It's alright. How much did you hear?"

"The story about her mom. That was awful. How could someone be afraid of their own child? And Nariah was only three at the time, right? How could she be scary?"

"Oh, so you didn't hear about the age thing," Anna said.

"What age thing?"

Anna smiled, the redness in her face dissipating. "Nariah is only fourteen years old."

"No way!" you said, a little too loud. Nariah looked at least twenty.

"I'm serious. She said half-breeds age a lot quicker than humans until they reach maturity. Then the process slows down to a crawl. So when she was three, she might have looked ten."

"Whoa, that's crazy. I guess we were wrong about her relationship with Terrian then.”

Anna's smile grew broader. "Yeah, she didn't know how to describe it, because she doesn't have anything to compare it to, but I think he treats her like a sister from everything she told me."

You smiled too. "That's great, Anna!"

They finished the chores, both in a slightly better mood. Anna was on speaking terms with Terrian again, waving and saying goodbye as she left. He was so happy he nearly cried, and you laughed as you headed out the door.

When you reached the door of your apartment, you wondered whether Vartan would still be there. You kept reminding yourself that he could leave at any moment without warning. With more than a little apprehension, you stepped inside.

Clearly visible from the door, Vartan was lying across the couch, fast asleep. You took a blanket from a nearby chair and spread it over his body. You turned out the lamp on the table next to him and leaned down.

"Goodnight," you whispered, then smiled as you walked to your own room and went to bed.

Tag List:

@scrumptiouslampwobblercop

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know!

[denaliwrites]

An Art to Life's Distractions

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader

Summary: Alec finds your secret stash while helping you move and has a word with you about what he's seen.

Soundtrack: Someone New by Hozier

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Alec has Silly Guy Syndrome, again.

Moving into a new home had maybe not been your best idea, but it had ultimately been rather necessary -- neither your previous place nor Alec's really had the space for three people, and although Daisy didn't live with her father full time, it was still important for her to have a room of her own. So, the two of you had decided on a nice little four-bedroom cottage on the outskirts of Broadchurch.

Alec and Daisy had been the first to move their things in, mostly because Daisy was out of school for the summer and had nothing better to do (well, besides hang with friends). Alec did what he could in the little free time he had. You, too, worked a full-time job, making it hard to set aside time to pack and take things over to the new place.

Eventually, though, it was your turn to gather your boxes up and get them to your new home. Alec, thankfully, had a weekend off and offered to help you move your things. You accepted gratefully, and for the most part, everything went rather smoothly.

That was until it came to the unpacking bit.

You'd left Alec alone in the room that you'd designated as the office, and you didn't think anything of it as you grabbed a bottle of water and a sandwich you'd had the blessed foresight to pack ahead of time. You continued not to think anything of it as you went back upstairs, and as you turned into the office.

You only thought something of it -- and something bad, at that -- as you realized mid-bite that Alec was holding a handful of extremely old, battered crime novels.

Mouth suddenly dry, you swallowed your bite of sandwich with difficulty and rushed to grab the books from him.

He jerked his hands out of your reach, looking up at your blushing face with a bemused expression.

"Crime novels? Really?" he asked.

You blinked with owlishly wide eyes before giving a slight nod. "Th-they, erm..."

"Ye?"

"They... they're fun, okay?" you whined, expression falling into a pout. "I like them..."

"Oh, darlin'," he said with a chuckle, pushing forward to plant a kiss to your lips. "Ye could just ask me to tell ye about some of my cases."

"I don't want real stakes," you said, motioning to the books he held, and the books still in the box. "No real people get hurt, no real evil people get away with horrible crimes. Even when the story doesn't go the way you want or expect, it's... it's not real, so it doesn't matter. It's just a fun read in the end. Harmless."

His expression softened, seemed even to be understanding, and when he kissed you again it was much gentler. "I see," was all he said at first.

The two of you fell into silence, with him putting your books up onto one of the shelves and you finishing your lunch.

When he finally spoke again, he looked thoughtful. "Y'ken, maybe I should read some of these."

"Why would you do that?" you asked, looking up at him with a blink.

"Well, maybe I'll be a better cop for it," he said with a smile.

You couldn't help but laugh delightedly. "What, and give up your title of Britain's Worst Cop?"

"Hey, now, I didn't say they'd fix me!"

[rottenpumpkin13]

since fireworks are on my mind (4th of July and all), what if there was a kind of similar fireworks festival in Banora or some small village and they either couldn't afford fireworks/the fireworks stopped working so Genesis used materia to make fireworks for the little kids!

ps, hope you're having a good time, stay safe in general, lots of love!!! ♥️♥️♥️

• Sephiroth fills his mouth with rice the moment Angeal drops the accusation, sensing his opinion on the matter will be asked and wanting no part of it: "You only ever take missions when you know there will be witnesses and news coverage to hail you as a hero." • Genesis is fuming. How dare his friend accuse him of vanity? As if they hadn’t climbed the ranks of SOLDIER together, enduring every trial side by side until they earned their titles. Genesis: “Do you agree, Sephiroth?” *Sephiroth responds by shoving an entire panko prawn in his mouth* • Genesis will have none of it. N o n e of it. He's now dead set on proving them both wrong, and as a rebuttal, he takes on a reconnaissance mission in a small village near the Fort Condor region. It’s simple and lacks flair: investigate a clandestine group selling stolen materia and report the findings. • The only interesting thing about this village is that his mission coincides with a major festival. He sees the locals bustling with preparations upon arrival. But he has to keep a low profile and can't reveal himself, which is a pity—he would have relished the awed stares and excited children flocking around him. • The mission is too easy: he locates the group almost immediately, operating on the outskirts of town near the woods where the festival preparations are underway. They’re selling rare materia to the locals at exorbitant prices. Genesis knows he could simply report it and be done, then return home to finish his latest novel. • But it's so terribly simple that he decides to take matters into his own hands. A skirmish breaks out between him and the group. Although Genesis successfully apprehends each one and confiscates the materia, a blast from the magic hits the nearby shed storing all the fireworks, rendering them unusable. • Now his cover is blown. The children and locals are indeed awed and excited to see him. But he can’t help but notice the children’s disappointment as they see the ruined fireworks, their sad eyes tugging at his heartstrings. It wasn’t his fault— how could he have known the fireworks were stored there? • He understands why this is devastating. He used to get so excited when the harvest festival back in Banora rolled around because the village would always put on the biggest fireworks show. He had fond memories of climbing to Angeal’s rooftop to watch them, while Angeal’s mother made apple chips for them.

• No, he would be damned by the goddess before he ever spoiled the fun for these kids. • Genesis puts his proficiency with magic to good use and uses materia to orchestrate the grandest, flashiest fireworks display imaginable. He pulls out all the stops—varying colors, styles, and formations, even crafting shapes like chocobos, moogles, and other fun designs that the children love. Genesis goes a step further by taking requests for custom displays, seething with quiet rage when a child suggests a firework depicting Sephiroth battling Bahamut. • The festival is saved, and he feels great! There were no news crews or cameras to capture the moment, proving Angeal’s claim wrong. Ha! Take that Angeal! • Until the following lunch hour where the trio are once again in the mess hall, except this time Angeal is smugly slapping down a newspaper on the table. The headline reads: "Heroic SOLDIER Genesis Saves Festival with Spectacular Fireworks Display!" followed by a candid picture taken of him laughing with the children. Angeal: “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Genesis: “What!? It’s not like I wanted this! They took the photo of me, look, I’m not even posing for it!” Angeal: “Your vanity knows no bounds.” Genesis: “This is ridiculous. Sephiroth, what do you think about this?” *Sephiroth responds by chugging his ramen*