#but i suppose in an au where they all get to hang out time isn't real so. yeah forget timelines

[yuujispinkhair]

Bad Boy - Good Toy

Sukuna is used to girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to dominate them. He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. Until he meets you, and suddenly, the bad boy becomes nothing but a willing fucktoy.

There is now a Part 02

Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut, College AU Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, humiliation, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, smoking, mentions of drugs, sharing chewing gum, facesitting, squirting, abs-riding, overstimulation, Sukuna cums untouched, piss (Reader pees on Sukuna to humiliate him, and he likes it). Reader calls Sukuna slut, fucktoy and fuckdoll. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Reader and Sukuna don't talk about limits or safe words. Sukuna is ok with everything Reader does to him, but please be aware that this isn't the way a sub/dom relationship is supposed to be in real life. I just wanted things to be a bit fucked up in this story ;) Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna is bored. So fucking bored. Bored with college in general, bored of the parties that are always the same, bored of the drugs that don't give him the kick he craves anymore. Even sex is boring nowadays. He sighs as his gaze brushes over the girl kneeling between his spread legs. He didn't bother asking for her name. He thinks she might be in his history course. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

He doesn't even bother to hide from view, letting her suck him off in the back of the dimly lit living room on some ratty couch, while a few meters away, people are dancing and drinking and singing along to songs that Sukuna hates. She is eager, bopping her mouth on his dick enthusiastically, humming around him, and hollowing her cheeks like a champ. But he feels nothing at all. He isn't even sure he can cum tonight. It's like he is numb to everything. The nameless girl moans around his dick, and Sukuna grabs his phone to send his brother a message.

Where are you, brat? I want to leave.

He doesn't get a reply and instead checks his group chats and e-mails while the girl between his legs slurps loudly on his tip. Sukuna huffs in annoyance and lets his bored gaze travel through the room. It lands on a girl in a red t-shirt who is looking in his direction. You are sipping your drink casually while you unashamedly watch him getting his dick sucked.

It makes him grin broadly. Finally, a little bit of entertainment. Maybe he will manage to cum just to give that little voyeur a good show. And afterward, he can take you to one of the bedrooms and fuck you. Or maybe do it right here on that couch, too.

He winks at you. A smile spreads over your face, but it's not the smile Sukuna usually sees on the faces of the girls he plans to fuck. It's the kind of smile he sees in the mirror. A smile that means trouble. His cock twitches, and he groans softly.

He doesn't break eye contact, and neither do you. Sukuna raises an eyebrow challengingly, smirking at you, daring you to come over while he gets his dick sucked. His stomach flips when you really start walking towards him.

Sukuna's pulse accelerates when you stop right next to him. You let your gaze travel from his face down to his cock, watching it bop in and out of that other girl's mouth. You chuckle. It's not a nice sound.

"Aww, do you have problems cumming, Sukuna? Is your dick not working?"

For a stunned second, Sukuna just blinks at you, mouth hanging open. The resident bad boy rendered speechless for the first time in his life. And then he throws his head back and laughs, and simultaneously, he feels his balls tighten.

"If you get on all fours, I will show you just how good my dick works, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms in front of your breasts, looking at him with a bored and unimpressed expression.

"What makes you think I would let you get anywhere near me with that dick of yours. I don't want dirty, good-for-nothing sluts like you."

"What did you just call me?"

But his response lacks the bite. Instead, he sounds breathless, and his hand tightens on the couch as his cock twitches in the other girl's mouth. Fuck, it feels so good all of a sudden.

You smile that dangerous smile again and lean closer, your flowery perfume filling Sukuna's nose, and you repeat your words to him, slowly, overly accentuated as if he is stupid,

"Dirty. Good-for-nothing. Slut."

A raw groan spills from Sukuna's throat, and his hips buck off the couch, making the girl between his legs choke on his cock, as he nuts so hard into her mouth that she's spluttering his cum everywhere.

He stares wide-eyed at your smug face as the gears in his mind shift at lightspeed. What the fuck just happened?

The girl between his legs climbs onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and tries to kiss him, but Sukuna turns his face to the side, looking at you instead,

"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"

"Why? Enjoyed it too much, and now you are scared of how your body betrayed you, little slut?"

You laugh and turn around, walking away while you lift a hand in a mocking little wave, and Sukuna stares after you with his mind whirling and his cock still throbbing.

He wakes up the next morning with a strange feeling in his gut. Something is different.

And after a moment, he realizes what it is when the memories from last night come back, and his eyes widen, and a whispered curse falls from his lips. The encounter with you replays in his mind just like it did countless times before he managed to fall asleep last night. Your cruel smile and the sadistic glint in your eyes. The way his body reacted to it.

He is so used to everyone cowering before him. So used to everyone submitting to him so willingly. All those countless girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to please let them suck his dick, obeying his every command, asking him if they can please call him daddy during fucking.

He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. One look from him and the girls were practically on their backs with their legs spread like some animal in heat.

No one ever talked to him the way you did. Or looked at him that way. As if he is worthless trash in your eyes. Your words resonate in his brain. "You dirty, good-for-nothing slut."

Fuck! It turns him on. It makes him achingly hard even now. He turns onto his back and shoves a hand into his pants. He jerks off so furiously that his wrist hurts, making a huge mess all over himself when he cums to the thought of you calling him a useless brat.

Sukuna isn't the same man he was 24 hours ago.

He totally doesn't look for you on campus on Monday morning. It is totally a coincidence that he slides up to you when you pull out a package of strawberry bubble gum from the vending machine. It's definitely not like he followed you around like a puppy for a whole hour until he finally got his shit together and decided to approach you.

"Strawberry flavor, huh? Wouldn't have thought that a foul person like you would pick such a sweet flavor."

You eye him lazily, eyes never leaving his as you tear open the packaging and put one of the pastel pink bubble gums into your mouth before you grace him with a reply.

"Oh, shut up. An attitude like that doesn't fit a pretty boy like you. Learn to behave, and then we can talk again."

Sukuna feels his lips lift in his trademark smirk as that weird, exhilarating sensation fills his veins again. He is enjoying himself far too much. He braces himself against the vending machine, his large hands on both sides of your face, caging you in, towering over you, while he smirks down at you.

But you don't seem intimidated at all by his height and muscular figure and the tattoos on his face. Instead, you smile at him and cock your head to the side, eyeing him expectantly as if you are waiting for him to do something.

He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours.

"Can I have a gum too? Please? See, I can behave very well."

His voice has dropped to his usual flirty, seductive tone, which he always uses on girls. The tone that always drives them crazy and makes them drop their panties faster than they can say his name.

You flutter your lashes exaggeratedly at him, smiling a sickeningly fake angelic smile as you open your mouth and pull out your gum.

"Ok, you can have one since you asked so politely. Open up, slut."

He laughs when you push the used gum to his lips, but Sukuna isn't one to back down, so he grabs your small hand, wraps his tattooed hand around your wrist, and opens his mouth. He licks your fingers, lets his tongue-piercing glide over your fingertips, and sucks the used bubble gum into his mouth.

You gaze deeply into his eyes, looking amused.

"You didn't even say thank you, Sukuna. You are still such a useless and rude brat."

You turn on your heel and leave him standing there like some rejected loser, and he chews the gum that tastes like strawberry and your spit and feels his cock twitch against his sweatpants.

Sukuna sees you again on Saturday at another party. Two girls danced with him and asked him if he wanted to fuck them both upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but he turned them down, not even able to grasp why.

Until he walks into the kitchen and sees you. And suddenly, things fall into place.

Why bother with those random girls when the one he really wants is you? You are the only one who poses a challenge. The only one who makes his skin tingle with excitement. The only one who makes him feel like he is still alive and not some fucking ghost.

He leans against the fridge and watches you while he lights a cigarette. He smokes it in silence, just smirking at you and hoping you will come over and call him a slut again. Or any other degrading name you can think of. Sukuna isn't picky.

You walk over to him, a few drags into his cigarette, and stop in front of him, so close that he can smell your sweet perfume again. And you smile that smile that isn't sweet at all as you reach up and take the cigarette from Sukuna's lips. Your eyes never leave his as you bring his half-smoked cigarette to your mouth, wrapping your lips with the red lipstick around the filter right where Sukuna's lips were a moment ago, and the sight is so sexy to him that Sukuna has to bite his lip not to moan.

You take a deep drag, and your eyes close for a moment as the nicotine fills your senses before they open again to gaze up at Sukuna through your long lashes, grinning as you slowly blow the smoke right into Sukuna's face.

He laughs, pushing himself off the fridge, stepping closer to you, so close that his hips brush against you,

"You know what that means, right princess? Blowing smoke in someone's face?"

"Who doesn't know that?"

You roll your eyes and look at him as if he is stupid, and he can't help but place his large hands on your waist and drawl in his best bedroom voice,

"So, you admit you want to fuck me?"

You smirk back at him as you push his hands off your waist, sounding dismissive when you shrug and say,

"You have a pretty face and a good body. And I am horny right now. So why not? And you are probably a good fuck, with all that practice you had."

"What makes you so sure I want to fuck you?"

"Oh, don't be silly. You won't say no. A slut like you never does. Everyone knows you are easy."

Sukuna doesn't bother telling you that he just turned down two hot chicks half an hour ago. He lets you grab his hand and pull him along, and he follows you with a broad smirk on his tattooed face.

His cock is already pressing against his jeans when his crotch brushes over your ass when you pull him up the stairs. His mind is hazy, thoughts clouded over by lust, finally feeling that sweet, exciting buzzing again that he missed so much.

You pull him into one of the bedrooms, yank off his t-shirt, and push him onto the bed. Or you try to. You push against his broad chest, not able to move him an inch, but he plays along and lets himself fall onto the bed, looking up at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and his throbbing erection leaking pre-cum into his pants like some pathetic little virgin before his first fuck.

Sukuna licks his lips when he watches you reach under your skirt and take off your panties. That's the only thing you take off before you join him on the bed, straddling his thighs, making him smirk at you like the devil that he is,

"So eager to get my cock inside you that you can't even be bothered to get naked, princess?"

"Shut up, slut. Good boys don't talk unless I allow it."

Your little hands are on his belt, opening it, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling down the zipper, making Sukuna's hips twitch when your hand rubs over his boxer-clad erection. He knows he is acting pathetic right now, cock so eager, already staining the fabric of his boxer briefs with a ridiculously huge amount of pre-cum. But fuck it, he is finally turned on again, finally excited to fuck again after all those months of feeling bored.

He pushes his hard cock against your hand, but you pull away again, smiling that devilish smile at him as you crawl on top of him.

Sukuna laughs breathlessly when you hover above his face, letting him know what you want from him. His large hands reach out to run slowly up the back of your thighs before they cup your ass cheeks, and he pulls you down onto his face.

He groans when your hot wet pussy settles on his tattooed face. Fuck, he always heard his brother go on and on about how hot he finds it when a girl sits on his face with a skirt and no panties. Sukuna had never found it so fascinating until now. Until it is you, and you tell him in that emotionless voice,

"Get to work, my little slut. If you make me squirt, you will get a reward."

He turns his face and moans against your inner thigh, leaving a kiss there,

"And what will my reward be?"

"I'll allow you to cum."

Allow him to cum?

Fuck. The words alone make Sukuna throb in his boxer briefs, another pearl of pre-cum leaking out of him.

"Then stop acting like a squeamish virgin and sit on my face for real."

"I told you to shut up, brat."

"Then shut me up with your pussy."

Sukuna grabs your ass cheeks tightly and pulls you down further, making you sit on his face for real. He isn't just a good fuck. He is the best fuck, and he will prove it to you!

He sucks your little swollen clit into his mouth and laughs when you gasp loudly. You grab his hair, tugging on it, making him groan as the slightly painful sensation goes directly to his throbbing cock. And he spoils your pussy like the slut that he is. Teases your clit with the stiff tip of his tongue and pushes the metal ball of his tongue piercing under the hood of your clit until you tremble and moan loudly.

He gets really into it, fucks you with his tongue and sucks savagely on your clit, eats you so good that it only takes a few minutes until you let out a high-pitched squeal and buck wildly against his face.

Hot, sticky liquid gushes over his lips, and you rock against him, voice breathless but still so stern,

"Open your eyes. Watch me cum all over your pretty face. Yeah, take it all, you little slut. Drink it all up."

Sukuna's eyes meet yours, and he moans, and his hips buck involuntarily, cock so desperate that he is rutting against thin air while pulsing pre into his boxer briefs.

He drinks you up, pushes his pierced tongue deeply into your twitching pussy, and licks it all up, basking in the way you mewl his name for a split second before you regain control and run a hand through his tousled pink hair, smoothing it down again,

"You are a good little fucktoy, Sukuna. Well done."

Sukuna's cock throbs at your words, and he blinks in surprise. Ok, so it's not just degradation that gets him excited, but also praise? Well, he is so fucked. So thoroughly fucked, and he loves every second of it!

You climb off his face, kneeling on the bed beside him, and let your small hands trail down Sukuna's defined pecs and his taut abs, following his tattoos down to the hem of his boxer briefs.

"You have such a nice body, Sukuna. The perfect little fucktoy. And what about that pretty cock? Is he perfect too, hm?"

A breathy gasp falls from his lips when you run a single finger over the thick bulge in his boxer briefs, slowly running up and down his whole throbbing length. Just a light, teasing touch, but it makes his vision blurry and pulls a desperate-sounding whine from his mouth.

It's so fucking humiliating. He's making such pathetic noises. But he simply can't bring himself to care. Not when he finally feels alive again when he is with you. His low voice is thick with need when he whispers,

"You said you would make me cum."

"Uh uh, I didn't say I would make you cum, sweetheart. I said I will allow you to cum. Let's see how things will go. Let's see how excited my little fucktoy will get. Don't forget what you are here for, Sukuna, baby. You are in this bed to serve me."

"Fuck..."

It takes all of Sukuna's willpower to not shove a hand into his boxer briefs and relieve that fucking pressure.

You straddle him again, sit on his abs this time, rubbing yourself on them, making him gasp when he feels how wet and hot your pussy is and how you spread your cream all over him. It's sexy. Nasty, just as he likes it.

Sukuna can see your face now, and it makes his chest fill with elation when he sees the fucked out expression on your face as you slide over his firm abs, rubbing your little clit against his hard muscles, your eyes closing and lips hanging open dumbly when you moan so sweetly and twitch on his stomach, reaching another orgasm on him.

He could sneak a hand behind you, could jack off behind your back, but he doesn't do it. He wants to be your good little toy.

You don't stop but keep rutting against him, your fingernails digging into the swell of Sukuna's pecs, leaving their crescent-moon-shaped marks there as you abuse your puffy clit further on his abs.

And Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you ride his abs, grinning as he hears your harsh breathing and feels you starting to tense up again. Another loud squeal tumbles out of your mouth, and Sukuna is about to taunt you for being so horny for him that you cum on him three times in a row when he feels something hot and wet on his abs, much more than during your other two orgasms.

You hum and grind against him as more wetness flows out of you and onto Sukuna's stomach, warm and sweet-smelling, and Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours in understanding.

You laugh and rub yourself against him, smiling that devilish smile as you pee on him. And he can't hold back the loud moan falling from his lips, can't stop his cock from twitching, almost cumming in his boxer briefs.

"You like that, you fucking pervert? Yeah, Sukuna? You like getting peed on? Well, I have more for you, my nasty boy."

You slide off him, hands grabbing his boxer briefs and pulling them down, finally freeing his aching cock. Sukuna groans when it springs up, bouncing lightly, rock-hard, pre-cum dripping down from it onto his abs.

You throw one leg over his thighs, kneeling over his stiff cock, and then more piss rains down from your hot cunt and onto Sukuna's cock.

And Sukuna moans and curses loudly as his back arches off the bed, and he cums all over himself, untouched, shooting hot ropes of cum out of his tip, all over his abs, and over your cunt that's hovering above him.

His vision goes black for a moment, and his breath comes out in loud, harsh huffs, his whole body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He thinks he never came so hard in his life.

You laugh and finally sit down on Sukuna's twitching cock, letting it glide between your wet folds, making him buck against you. But you don't let him push inside you. You just rub your wet cunt slowly over his spent length, watching with an amused smile as you milk every last spurt of cum out of Sukuna while you let more pee trickle over his cock, mixing his cum with your piss.

Sukuna's heart is beating so fast that he feels lightheaded. And the overstimulation makes him sob, makes his oversensitive cock ache and twitch, but oh, how he craves this sweet pain. He lets his head fall back on the pillow, letting more low moans spill from his lips, eyes closing as he pushes his slowly softening cock between your pussy lips, whimpering softly anytime that delicious pain pulses in his length.

He doesn't know how long it takes before you stop moving on him and slip off his lap. But he sighs when the sticky heat of your cunt leaves his cock.

The bed creaks as you crawl up to him to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear,

"You are such a mess, Sukuna. Such a cute mess for me. I'm excited to see what else you can give me, my little fuckdoll."

You leave him lying there on top of the blanket, his cock pulsing hotly from the overstimulation, mind hazy with post-coital bliss, chest heaving with heavy breaths, skin sticky from his cum, and your squirt and pee.

It's disgusting, and he should feel embarrassed, but he can't help but moan softly as a small smile creeps over his face. Sukuna feels satisfied like he hasn't felt in months. He hopes you will use him again as your personal fucktoy very soon.

FUCKTOY SUKUNA, I WANT YOU 💗💗 I wrote the first draft of this story a while ago and then thought I wouldn't dare publish it because it's too nasty, but I changed my mind, lol. I hope it was ok and that my fellow sub!Sukuna enjoyers accept this treat ;)

There will be a second part!! The story got too long, and there would have been too many sex scenes, so I decided to split it.

Thank you so much for reading 💗 Reblogs and comments would be very sweet!

HERE IS PART 02

[empire-of-the-words]

AU where Bruce and Talia get married and Ra'd just... hangs around

He finds Wayne Manor’s version of the mother-in-law suite and refuses to leave

He had LoA meetings there for a while, but Bruce kept spying on them ("It’s my house!") so confidential information isn't discussed there, but everything else is fair game

Alfred's cookies means the League book club is suddenly very popular

None of the kids can bring friends home without having to explain "Yeah that's my (step)grandpa wearing the dramatic robes cursing my dad for stopping him from killing the mayor. Yeah the ninjas are his too. Same with the endangered animals wandering around the house. No it's actually pretty calm today"

Alfred starts cooking larger amounts of food because there’s always a ninja or two (or ten) hanging around, and he’s determined to be a good host ("Why is there a cake tonight?" "It���s Bob's birthday, Master Bruce " "Ninja Bob? Damn I forgot to get him a gift.")

Ra's always spoils his grandkids rotten, of course, but in the weirdest ways possible. Mainly pets. Bruce does not appreciate this.

When Cass shows up, she and Ra's have a staring contest for an hour straight. No one's quite sure what happened, and no one really wants to know

And his shenanigans aren't confined to private either! If there's a gala, he's there, and he does not care about social etiquette. That man makes headlines way more often than not ("'Wayne FIL Has Bodyguards Attack Socialite For Wearing Fur'." "That fur comes from an endangered fox; how else was I supposed to react?")

Ra's likes to match gala outfits with Talia, Talia likes to match with Bruce and Damian (and whatever kids consider her their mom), and the other kids like to join in on the joke, meaning the entire family is matching except for Dick, who refuses out of spite (a picture of them all together quickly becomes a meme format)

The Halloween gala is filled with people in ninja "costumes"

The Court of Owls tries to assassinate Ra's once, not because of the League of Assassins thing, just because he got on the nerves of one too many members. Taking them down is one of the few times Ra's and Dick get along, and it freaks everyone out so much they're determined to never let it happen again

The family is divided on whether they find him and his shenanigans amusing or not. Talia, Jason and Duke do. Bruce and Dick don't. No one's quite sure about Cass, and Damian won't say either way. Tim starts a mini war with Ra's, with the casualties ending up as 2 chandeliers, 5 computers, 4 antique vases, at least 7 League plots, the microwave and Tim’s spleen

He does manage to find the Lazarus Pit infecting Gotham’s water supply and isolate it. So. That's nice.

[changbunnies]

Hopelessly Devoted To You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Greaser!Bang Chan x fem!Reader

♡ Genre: grease inspired 50s au, some angst and fluff, this was supposed to be a long full length fic but it somehow became just porn with plot lol

♡ Word Count: 11.2k

♡ Summary: You were so excited to see him again– the guy you'd spent your entire summer with, entagled in a fleeting but explosively sweet romance. But the Chris you meet again isn't the one you remember, and now if he wants to win you back he's going to have to prove just how devoted to you he really is.

♡ Warnings: chan is referred to as chris, smoking (cigarettes), some misogyny + toxic masculinity + fuck boy behavior, some 50s references and lingo, 1 instance of reader shoving chan in a fit of anger / sadness, jealous and mildly possessive chan, minor appearances from felix, changbin, minho, and hyunjin (who goes by sam)

♡ Smut Warnings: 1 reference to reader losing their virginity to chan, references / flashbacks to other smut scenes before the main scene, light dom/sub dynamics, switch!chan, pet names (doll, sugar, baby), public sex, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f rec, referenced m rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, daddy kink, panty stealing (kind of), squirting, 1 mention of reader having pubic hair, maybe a lil breeding kink??, protected piv

♡ Notes: i've had this sitting in my drafts since december and finally got around to finishing it gfdhgfh this is incredibly self indulgent as grease is one of my fave movies ever and chan as danny zuko is constantly rattling around in my brain. the build up is pretty short (by my usual standards) as i moved the plot along a lot quicker than i normally would so idk if it's my best work but hopefully you enjoy it!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You remember well the first time you met Chris. Lounging aimlessly at the beach with the sunset on the horizon, his feet in the sand with a silver dog tag necklace hanging low over his bare chest, a cigarette from his previously discarded jeans held between his lips. Fresh from the ocean with beads of water still dripping off his toned body, slicking back his damp hair before fumbling through a different pocket for his lighter.

You watched him bring it up to his face after successfully digging it out, cupping his other hand around it to protect the flame as he lit the cigarette in his mouth. You watched him take a long drag, watched him blow the smoke out from the corners of his mouth, watched him sigh before deciding to towel dry his legs enough to wrangle his jeans back on. 

The beach had been quickly growing sparse by the time you spotted him. Groups of friends clearing out to make it to the local diner before all the tables were filled, parents wanting to get their kids to bed before the moon fully rose in the sky, couples on double dates bunching up in one car as they decide to hit the drive-in together.

You yourself were in no rush to leave– you came alone, tired of your parents bickering during what was supposed to be a fun family vacation. You’d stay as long as you could, you’d decided– really soak in the peace the sea brings before returning to your aunt’s beach house, where you were all staying for the summer.

But safe to say, the sight of him enraptured you. He was handsome, devastatingly so– you never expected to see a man with a visage to rival even that of James Dean himself with your own eyes, but there he was before you; and your heart stuttered when he glanced over in your direction.

He had just finished pulling his jeans up and over his haunches when he noticed you, cocking a brow when your eyes met– and you could tell in an instant that he knew you’d been staring at him. His smile made your breath hitch, pretty dimples peeking out on his cheeks as he acknowledged you with a playful wave.

Hesitantly, you lifted your hand and waved back, and he grinned, eyes still locked on yours as he pulled up the zipper of his jeans. He turned back to his belongings on the ground, shook the sand out of his white tee before pulling it on. He grabbed his leather jacket, slung it over his shoulder before turning to look at you once more.

You swallowed, face running hot from his gaze alone– you hoped, as he began walking towards you, that you could play it off as having not put on enough sunscreen before coming here. You were sitting on a towel, legs to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, but you lowered them as he approached you.

He tossed his cigarette to the the side once he was close, letting its flame fizzle out in the sand. He looked you up and down when you stood up, introducing himself with a charismatic smile that made your heart race faster. You stuttered when speaking, and his smile widened, one of his hands going to rest in the pocket of his jeans while the other kept his leather jacket in place over his shoulder. 

Chris was the most, to say the least– and when he asked if he’d see you again tomorrow, you promised him he would. You watched him walk over to a beat up, old top down cadillac, throwing his jacket into the car before jumping in– literally jumping in, hand on top of the closed car door as he hopped over it into the driver's seat. 

He gave you another glance after starting the ignition, and you smiled meekly as you offered him another wave. Chris grinned, raising his hand to say goodbye before putting it back on the wheel and burning rubber out of the parking lot.

You spent nearly every summer day with him after that. Days at the beach spent splashing each other in the water while you giggled, hopping in his cadillac to go catch whatever new flick was showing, or sharing a milkshake at his favorite diner. He’d hold your hand as you walked through the sand, giggled with you over silly inside jokes while eating burgers and fries, hugged you tight after you gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.

Chris gave you dimes to pick tunes on the jukebox, and would sing along to your selections with the prettiest voice you’d ever heard. He took you to the county fair, would shoot you goofy grins after kissing you with lips sticky from cotton candy, got on the ferris wheel with you and squeezed your hand when the height made you dizzy, kissing away your nerves when you reached the very top.

He won you a teddy bear from the soda toss, put his leather jacket over your shoulders when the sun set and the air began to chill, wrapped his arm around your shoulder while you were waiting in line to buy some popcorn. He’d lean down to whisper a joke in your ear, and you’d slap his arm with a giggle while he squeezed you closer.

You watched him soup up the engine of his car, and he’d take your hand after a long day of working on it, pull you in to dance with him while the radio blared the hippest tunes. When he was satisfied with the restoration of his cadillac, he started taking you out on long drives, wind whipping through your hair as he drove fast through the back streets of the city.

He’d drive you to secluded hills overlooking the city, where you’d make out until he had to drive you home in time for curfew. He’d park his car far down the street, away from where your family could see him dropping you off– because Lord knows your mother's heart would give out if she saw you spending your vacation with a guy that looked like him.

And through it all, days spent back at the beach where you first met him were always your favorite. You would let Chris lay you down on a towel in the sand and kiss you over and over, until you were both heaving and hot. You lost your virginity to him like that– alone on the beach, towels laid down and moon high in the sky after having snuck out of the window of your guest bedroom to meet him.

He’d whisper sweet words in your ear, make you fall apart with deft fingers and an equally deft tongue. Sometimes, instead of sneaking out to see him, he’d be the one showing up at your guest room's window, grinning at you as you opened it to let him in. He’d fuck you there, in the bed with his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of pleasure, lest your family discover what it is you’re really up to while "alone" in your room. 

Chris would crawl over to you in the passenger seat at the drive-in, sink to his knees and dip his head underneath your long poodle skirt, the flick on screen long forgotten as he pulled your panties to the side to kiss and lick your dripping pussy. Sometimes he’d fuck you there too, parked all the way in back with the windows and hood of the car up to hide what you were doing (as if the rocking didn’t give it away to anyone who happened to look.)

Sometimes, when he parked up the street to drop you off after sharing ice cream at the drive thru malt shop, you’d lean over the gear shift, taking his cock out of his jeans and sucking him off right there, with not nearly enough care for who could possibly see you. He’d give you the sweetest kiss before helping you out of the car, promising he’d see you tomorrow too, and the day after, and the day after that, until eventually your family’s summer vacation had to come to an end.

Chris was a dreamboat that day, as he always was– hair greased back with a few curly strands left over his forehead, loose black tee tucked into his jeans, leather jacket on with its collar ever so slightly popped, his dog tag necklace sparkling when the sun hit it just right. He was leaning against the door of his newly souped up cadillac with a lit cigarette resting between his lips, though he promptly threw it to the ground when he saw you walking over.

“There’s my girl! And ain’t she a doll,” he grinned as he pulled you to his body, kissing you sweetly as you blushed. You weren’t wearing anything he hadn’t seen you in before– just one of your usual white blouses and pretty pink skirts, but he always made sure to tell you that he thought you were the absolute most.

He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door for you and closed it shut behind you when you got in. He hopped into the driver’s seat after, starting the ignition and turning to you with that beaming smile that made your stomach flip. “What’s the plan today, sugar?” he asked, throwing his arm around you while leaving one hand on the steering wheel.

In the end, you spent the day as you had many times before– driving through the city, hitting up the diner to split a strawberry milkshake, and watching the sunset at the beach; the same beach where you met him, and where the house you were staying in lied just a couple hundred yards away. You were sitting on the rocks, his leather jacket off and resting behind you, his arm curled around your waist. 

His jeans were filthy with sand, as was your skirt, but neither of you cared– you just stayed there together, watching the sun sink lower and the waves crash against the shore. Chris kissed you when you looked up at him with watery eyes, agonized over the idea of never seeing him again. He’d given you the best summer of your entire life, and all you wanted was to stay– but you couldn’t. And though he comforted you the best he could, you both knew it was the end.

Chris held your hand to help you off the rocks, gave you a kiss before you turned away to make the walk to your aunt’s beach house. And you both knew it was the end– but not just yet. He came to your window later that night, and you let him in, bringing your hands to his face and eagerly pressing your lips to his.

He walked you back to the bed as you kissed him, laid you back gently and crawled between your legs. He made you cum on his fingers before reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom and tearing it open with his teeth. He rolled it easily down his cock, his jeans having fallen down his legs just enough to let him fuck you.

You reached your hands underneath his shirt, hungrily tracing your hands over every inch of his skin. Your nightgown was bunched above your thighs, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He eventually pulled the top of it down too, exposing your chest to him and leaving your stomach as the only covered part of your body.

Sweat dripped from his brow, his normally perfectly slicked hair tousled from your fingers sliding through it– and you didn't care that the pomade in his hair dirtied your fingers; in fact, it made it feel nicer when you brought your hand to one of your breasts, and rolled your nipples between them. Your stomach flipped when he grinned and called you a dirty girl, running a hand through his hair to grease up his fingers too and tweak the other nipple not being played with by your own.

He kissed you to muffle your moans and desperate whines, and it was nowhere near as effective as when it was his hand clamped over your mouth, but it was better. He had to slow down when fucking you fast unintentionally made your bedframe slam against the wall, and you gasped, praying no one woke up from the sound.

Thankfully, no one came knocking on your door– and though you were both desperate, clinging to one another hard and sliding your tongues around each other’s with fervor, he fucked you slow and deep after that. "Chris, daddy, please– 'm gonna cum," you moaned when he brought his slicked up fingers to your clit. 

Chris groaned before kissing you again, and you came with a muffled cry, your nails digging desperately into his biceps. He kept rolling his hips into you through it, your body trembling with sensitivity until he eventually came too, all his cum spilling into the condom. 

He stayed for a while after that, holding you close and wiping tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He snuck out in the middle of the night, promised you despite it all that it wasn’t the end– you’d see each other again someday, he just knew it; he wanted you to believe it too.

You got a couple of hours of sleep before morning, and gave your family the best smile you could manage as you tossed your luggage in the trunk of your dad's chevy bel air. You slouched in the back seat, trying not to cry and wishing more than anything you were in Chris’ old cadillac instead.

The Chris you reunited with wasn’t yours, and if it was, then fate was cruel for bringing you back to him.

The Chris you knew wouldn’t have looked at you like that– like you’re a desperate and fast girl, or an overly smitten near stranger hoping to get her kicks from him one last time while his friends snickered behind him. The Chris you knew wouldn’t join in on their snickering, tilting his head with an amused expression, tongue poking his cheek as he combs his fingers through his slicked back hair.

The Chris you reunited with wasn't yours, and the realization that you didn't really know him the way you thought you did utterly broke your heart.

You were back in the city– your parents, after having settled whatever marital disputes they were having, decided to settle down here. They loved their time together in the city when all their little tiffs were said and done, and they could tell you loved it here too.

They thought it’d benefit everyone to set up shop somewhere new, where everyone could reset. Plus, your mom wanted to be close to her sister again– and you certainly wouldn’t complain about spending more time at your aunt’s beach house.

You desperately wanted to see Chris again, and you knew it’d only be a matter of time before you did– unlike you, he grew up in the city, lived here his entire life. And while it’d been months since you parted at the end of summer considering your parents had to do a lot of work to shift the family business to a new location while also looking for a decent house up for sale, it would happen eventually– you were certain of it.

And soon enough you did see him, knew in an instant it was him even at a distance– because you’d recognize his restored cadillac anywhere. He was leaning against the car door like usual, cigarette in his mouth and leather jacket on his back, with a circle of friends around him. You never met his friends– he told you they were pigs, said that you wouldn’t like them much.

Besides, you were only going to be in town a few short months– why waste your precious few days hanging around with other people when you could be alone? That’s what he always told you– and as you tentatively began to walk up the street closer to them, you could tell they certainly did talk more vulgarly than you were used to hearing.

“C’mon man, you gotta let me borrow her,” one of his friends begged in reference to his car, “she’s a real pussy wagon. My chick’ll cream if I pick her up in it.” “Get your own wheels, bozo,” Chris shoved him with a laugh, “I ain’t lettin’ you take my girl on any joyrides.”

“What if you come too? Make it a double date, you know– and nobody’s got bigger tits than Annette. I got dibs, but she’ll be real nice eye candy for you,” his friend persuaded and Chris hummed, as if seriously considering it. Would he really go?

“Mm, maybe,” he grinned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and digging it into the gravel with his foot, “You do got a point. Tell her to bring a pretty friend, and I’ll think about it.” You blinked, stopped walking and simply stared at him. Had he moved on already? It’d only been a few months, but maybe you fell for him harder than he fell for you; the thought of it made your heart sink to your stomach.

His friend cheered and hugged him tight, and Chris pushed him away with another laugh, running a hand through his hair to fix it up as he characteristically did whenever it got even the slightest bit out of shape. In that same moment is when he glanced over in your direction, catching sight of you by pure coincidence.

His eyes widened when he saw you, mouth gaping open for a split second before he called your name in a mix of utter shock and joy. That was more like the Chris you knew– and it gave you hope. You ran up to him, and he to you, bringing his hands to your shoulders and touching you up and down your arms– truly, he couldn’t believe you were here, and he had to touch you to be certain it was real. 

“What– what are you doing here? I-I thought you went back home with your folks, I thought–” he was smiling, entirely giddy as he looked you up and down. “We moved! I’m here to stay,” you told him excitedly, bouncing on your heels as you stared up at him.

It made you so, so happy; to the point that the contents of his prior conversation entirely lifted from your mind. It pains you thinking back to how naive and lovesick for him you were– you wish you'd have known better. 

“I can’t believe it! I–” he started to exclaim, but then realized his friends followed him, crowding around his back while shooting him inquisitive looks, and he quickly took his hands off you.

He cleared his throat, tucked his hands in his pockets in a gesture meant to bring him back to his aloof state of being, and he grinned– not that pretty grin that made your heart flutter, but a wicked one. “I mean– that’s cool, baby.”

You didn’t like it, your brows furrowing at the change in his demeanor. “Christopher–” you started, but one of his friends spoke up before you could talk much more. “Who’s the chick?” he asked as he looked you up and down, and Chris hesitated. “Oh, uh–”

“Oh, I know!” the friend suddenly exclaimed, hit by an epiphany, “the one from the beach you wouldn’t let us meet– the one who puts out. This her? It is, isn’t it?”

Your face burned red, unpleasant heat crawling over your body as the rest of his friends snickered. He told them you put out? Why would he do that? Your expression crumbled, body trembling with embarrassment and grief, but Chris kept his own cool.

“Don’t worry, doll, I didn’t tell them all the horny details,” he smirked, and his friends' snickers erupted into full on laughs as they slapped his back in amusement. Your body burned hot with indignation, eyes welling with tears as your frustration and anguish boiled over. You shoved him as hard as you could, though it hardly even caused him to take a step back.

“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, you– you creep!” you cried before turning away, ready to run back home to throw the teddy bear he won you in the trash and sob into your pillows. “That’s not all she laid on him,” one of his friends commented under his breath, the rest laughing and hooting as you sprinted away from them, back down the street.

Chris just watched, body tense and face sullen, heart twisting in his chest. He watched you turn the corner, wiping tears from your eyes before you disappeared entirely out of view, his friends still laughing and giving him pats on the back.

But when he turned to them, he put the smirk back on, and they all hopped into his car to hit the drive-in as if he didn't care about what just happened with you, as if the guilt wasn't going to eat away at him every night.

The next time Chris sees you is weeks later, at a new mom-and-pop shop freshly opened on the edge of the city. He’s there with his friends, all of them jumping out his cadillac before he’s even fully parked, rushing inside to grab a good table.

And when he walks in, it’s not his friends that he sees first but you– sitting at a booth with another guy across from you. There's an empty plate with tiny remnants of ketchup still left behind that he just knows you used for your french fries, and a milkshake between you with two straws stuck in it.

Part of him is relieved you aren’t sharing a single straw with the man like you would’ve done with him, but his gut still twists from the sight regardless. And when you giggle at something indiscernible the guy says, Chris feels liquid hot envy boil in his blood, jaw tightening and fists clenching as he cracks his neck. 

“Chris, over here!” his best pal, Felix, calls from across the shop, and that’s when you see him too. You can’t help but look when you hear his name called, eyes widening when they land on him. He tenses, eyes lingering on you for a few seconds longer before he inevitably joins his friends at the table they scouted out in the middle of the room.

He can't focus on anything his friends are saying– the only thing he vaguely hears through the fog in his brain is Changbin begging the others for spare nickels so he can afford the dog-sled delight. It all becomes tuned out noise, because all he can think about is how much he missed you, and how much it pisses him off that you're here with someone else.

It's Chris' own fault, he knows that, and that makes the feeling even worse– like bile in his throat that he can't swallow down. It doesn’t take Minho, the most perceptive of his friend group, to notice that he’s staring at you and to comment on it.

“What, you still hung up on that chick?” he questions, and Chris scoffs as he snaps out of his fog, leaning back in his chair and acting as aloof as he can bring himself to. “What? No, of course not,” he says, but his eyes still linger on you, fingers twitching with irritation when he hears you laugh again, and watches you playfully slap the man’s arm like you would do to his.

Eventually, you hold out your palm to your date, and he watches the guy dig through his pockets to give you something. Chris knows immediately what's happening– you’re waiting to be given a dime or two, and you’ll saunter off to the jukebox to pick a new tune once they’re in hand.

He watches you rise from the booth, waits until you’ve made the walk over to rise from his table, muttering to his friends that he needs to hit the can real quick. He takes a few steps in the direction of the bathroom, and then immediately turns, going straight to you instead.

He props an arm on the jukebox after he approaches, leans against it and looks down at you as you cycle through the record choices. “Hey baby,” he tries, but you ignore him, don’t even spare him a glance as you continue to give the jukebox your full attention.

“Listen– I’m sorry,” he tries again, and you just hum in acknowledgement, still not turning your gaze to look at him. He swallows, glances back at his friends who are perfectly oblivious to what he’s doing, and then back to you. “I just– you know how it is, right? The guys, they expect me to act a certain way, and–”

“That’s why I’m so glad I met Sam,” you interrupt, turning around to look at your date and offer him a sweet wave. Chris hates it, but at least you’re talking to him now– he’ll take what he can get. He still ends up scowling however when your date waves back, and you turn back to the jukebox, still without glancing up at Chris himself.

“What, you like that square?” he scoffs as he looks your date up and down. He’s smartly dressed; pristine khaki slacks and a brown sweater vest pulled over his white button up, his hair in a neatly styled, respectable crew cut– but that’s not your type.

At least, he hopes it's not; because that would make Chris the outlier, and that’s not what he wants to be. He’ll also be damned if he ends up losing you to a goody two shoes like that.

“He’s sweet to me. And I don’t have to question what his intentions are, unlike with you,” you reply, and the emphasis put on 'you' makes his heart sink. While he certainly deserves to hear it, it doesn’t make him any less upset– not with you, but with himself. He really let his pride and reputation get in the way, and he knows he fucked up. But he wants you, and surely you know that, right?

You finally settle on a tune; Those Magic Changes– the one he knows is your absolute favorite. The one he even used to serenade you with once whilst dancing, you giggling away with a cute blush on your cheeks whilst he twirled you around. He sang it more exaggeratedly towards the end, purposely putting on a goofy voice to make you laugh harder as he dipped you down.

He kissed you before lifting you back up, and then again when you were completely upright, your hand on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, your other free hands intertwined. The way you looked at him when he pulled back from the kiss made his heart pound, but he played it cool– shot you that grin that always made your legs feel like jelly, kissing your cheeks when it made your blush deepen.

Chris liked feeling the heat of your blush against his lips, liked having your hands on him even when it was in the purest of ways, liked the way you giggled and smiled at him when he playfully winked at you. The memory strikes him hard when you press the play button to start the song, and he takes a step back from the jukebox, fists clenched at his side.

You look at him then– really look at him. Instantly he feels small, your gaze that once held so much love for him now meeting him with the utmost scrutiny. He fucked up, he knows he did– but what does he do now? He can’t even trust himself to say something without fucking it up even worse. 

And the pain of it all hits you too– he can see it in your eyes just before you steel your expression, and do your best to act unaffected. "See you around, Christopher," you mutter as you turn away from him and the jukebox.

You walk back to the booth where Sam awaits your return with a smile, while Chris just stands there, your favorite song blaring painfully loud in his ears as he stares at your back. "..begs you please, come back to me, please return to me, don't go away again," the lyrics mock him harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, but he knows he has to do something, anything, to show you he’s sincerely sorry. He needs to show you he still wants you, needs you to give him another chance– more than he’s ever needed anything.

The next time Chris sees you is once again by coincidence, while he’s sitting alone in the parking lot of the sock hop his little sister just begged him to take her to. He was trying to decide what to do with his time– if he left, he’d have to come back in a couple hours to pick her up, but surely it was better than sitting around outside, bored out of his mind while he waited for her.

He could go in, but sock hops aren’t really his thing– the only time he ever danced was with you, and he didn’t plan on changing that. All he’d do inside is stand on the edge of the room and watch his sister dance, and he didn’t much feel like doing that either. Besides, his little sister was a good girl, and she didn’t need, nor want, his constant supervision.

And he’s just about to turn the key in his ignition and burn rubber when he sees you, arm linked with stupid fucking Sam as he opens the door for you with his free hand. And fuck, he doesn't even care that he's about to crash your date– he just needs to talk you. He jumps out of his car in a rush, pulling open the door to the building and heading straight to the line leading to the dance floor.

Chris’ jaw tenses when he sees you– Sam is leaning down to whisper something in your ear while you wait in the line, and you cover your mouth as you giggle. He hates how similar it is to the days he spent with you at the fair, waiting in line for rides and popcorn. The envy bubbling in his gut makes him feel sick, and he has to take a breath to calm himself down before he approaches you.

He steps to where you are in the line when he feels mellowed out enough, you and your date turning around curiously when they hear his voice call your name. Your eyes widen when you see it's him, but you’re quick to correct your expression before your date notices anything off about you. “Can I talk to you?” Chris asks, not at all acknowledging Sam’s presence beside you.

Even when you divert your gaze to glance at your date’s reaction, Chris’ eyes stay firmly on you, awaiting your answer. “Please?” he follows up, and it makes you swallow. It’s the first time he’s ever taken a pleading, desperate tone with you, and he can tell rejecting him isn’t going to come easily to you– it gives him hope that you'll finally hear him out, maybe even take him back.

“I–” you hesitate a moment, and just as Chris’ new, shiny hope begins to dim, you unlink your arm from your date. “I’ll be right back, just stay in the line,” you tell Sam before shooting Chris a look and walking past him. He follows you back outside, and you cross your arms as you stand against the cold brick of the exterior.

“What do you want?” you cut straight to the point. There’s a million things he wants to say, but his built up jealousy causes him to ask the stupid, burning question first and foremost. “Since when do you go to sock hops?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh– he’s unbelievable, breaking your heart like that and then pulling stunts like this. 

“Since nice boys ask me to go with them. Why, you jealous?” you accuse him and he scoffs, trying once again to play off what he feels. “Me? Jealous? Don’t make me laugh,” he says, unable to help the instinctive reaction to being called out. And he instantly regrets it, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I go back inside then?” you ask as you step away from the wall, starting to walk past Chris and back to the doors. He grabs your arm to stop you, and you look up at him expectantly. “Don’t, I–” he grits his teeth, hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides to be honest, “I am, okay? So don’t.”

He lets your arm go, and his admission thankfully proves enough to make you stay. You settle back against the brick wall, but you don’t look at him after– instead you look down at the ground, staring at your sleek, black and white saddle shoes instead of meeting his gaze.

It’s silent for a moment, with Chris wracking his brain as he tries to figure out the right thing to say to you. “What you did was terrible, you know,” you end up breaking the silence first, your voice soft.

“I know, I– I meant it when I said I was sorry,” Chris says while moving a step closer to you, and still you hesitate to look at him. “I didn’t believe you. Still don’t,” you reply, and honestly, he can’t blame you– he should’ve been more sincere when he approached you.

But he was being a fucking idiot, still trying to play it cool even though it was just the two of you standing there by the jukebox. And who gave a fuck if his friends happened to look over and saw him talking to you? Why should he care? Is it really so wrong for him to be whipped for you?

Even the first time he saw you again, he should've done all the things he really wanted to do. He should've kissed you and hugged you tight, should've told you how happy he was to know you’re here to stay, should’ve flipped his friends the bird and told them to fuck off if they questioned him. But he didn’t– he cracked under the expectations, and you suffered for it.

There’s a lot he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it– he’s never been vulnerable about his feelings before you, but he wants to try. Even if he screws up over and over again, he’ll keep trying– because you deserve it. And he should apologize again, sincerely, but there’s another question burning in his blood that he has to ask.

“Do you really like that guy? You’re not, like– going steady, are you?” Chris questions and you shrug, finally looking up from the ground to meet his eyes. “That depends,” you tell him, peeling your back away from the wall to stand directly in front of him, holding your hands behind your back.

“On what?” he follows up, and you smile– a small one, but it’s enough for him. “On you,” you answer, and the hope flares back up, drowning out the envy and shame in veins and replacing it with pure, unfiltered glee.

“Yeah?” he grins as he tilts his head, and your smile grows the tiniest bit more as you nod. You may still have your doubts about his sincerity, but the fact that you’re willing to give him a chance is all he needs– he’ll use the time you give him to prove it to you, to make sure you’re left with no doubts that you’re the one that he wants, to promise that he'll never break your heart again.

“Come with me then, back inside– you’re gonna be my date,” he says as he holds out his hand to you. Sock hops may not have been his style before, but they can be for you. “What about Sam?” you question, but still take his hand regardless.

“He can stag it the rest of the night for all I care. You’re mine, sugar,” Chris replies, and it sends butterflies sweeping through your stomach as you giggle in delight. “And your friends?” you ask next, knowing it’s very well possible he’ll crack under the expectations of his rep with them again if they see you together.

“Fuck ‘em,” he replies easily; and you’re both sure it’ll be easier said than done for him to not give a shit what they think, but he’ll do his best. He doesn’t want to do anything to make you regret giving him another chance. “Let’s dance, baby,” he grins at you, pulling you along with him as he steps back inside the building with you in tow.

There’s a thought in Chris’ head that he never before thought he’d ever have– the sock hop was perfect. And well, maybe it’s not the sock hop itself necessarily that he enjoyed, but you– yes, it was most certainly you. The time spent with you was everything he’d been missing, everything he could’ve ever hoped for following your departure from the city and his subsequent abysmal fuck up. 

He knew he didn’t deserve any of it– and he was certain you were going to share a more serious talk about it all later, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt walking back into the building and seeing Sam utterly bewildered that his date was now clinging to his own arm instead.

And he won’t shirk his responsibility to do better by you– he’ll own up to his mistakes, he’ll change, be someone deserving of you. It may take a lot of time and effort to unlearn all the dumb shit he’s taken in over the years, but he swears he’ll try– tonight is just the start of a lifetime of proving to you that he’ll do anything to keep you.

All night, you’ve been positively radiant– and truly, Chris has never felt luckier in all his life. He delighted in the way you smiled at him while dancing, enjoyed the way you squealed in excitement and bounced on your heels when the live band decided to play a cover of your favorite tune, couldn’t help the way a goofy grin spread over his face when you pecked him on the cheek following a slow dance.

You’re the only one in the world who’s ever seen it, you know– the only one who gets to see his dimples, or to hear him giggle. The only one he’s ever sung to and danced with, the only one he’s ever wanted to stay up all night talking on the phone with, the only one he’s ever taken out for more than a quick and simple joyride in his car.

He could feel the inquisitive, disbelieving stares too– Chris has lived here his entire life, and everyone knows the kind of guy he is. And maybe he’s simply lucky– he knows he’s nothing but a delinquent, knows his reputation precedes him, knows he doesn’t deserve the affection of a good girl like you. 

Regardless of it all, you love him– enough to give him another chance even when he hasn’t yet done enough to earn it. And effortlessly, you unlock the soft part of him– the part of him that desires and yearns and wants. He burns for you, the only girl in the world his heart has ever raced for, the only who knew who he was beyond the rough surface he projected to the rest of the world.

Now you’re outside tentatively standing next to Chris’ car, waiting for him to come back from confirming with his sister that she’ll hitch a ride home from her friends instead of him. It embarrasses him how she grills him with questions about you– and he answers in the vaguest of terms, having to promise that he’ll fill her in on it all in more detail later, but to please just let him go be alone with his girl.

He’s certain that no one else would believe it if he told them, but his intentions to be alone with you are entirely pure. Now that he’s close to having you as his again, he wants to do right by you– take it slow, kiss you soft and tender, touch you light and chaste, respectfully, sweetly. He wants to take you on dates again, wants to save up all his quarters to buy you something special, wants to devote his every moment to showing you how sincerely he loves you.

He wants you to meet his friends properly (after he gives them a stern warning to be gentlemen in front of you), wants you to meet his parents, and he wants to meet yours in turn. He wants to stop playing it cool and aloof and confident when he feels something– doesn’t want to keep pretending that the way you look at him doesn’t drive him wild, not just with lust but with adoration.

And certainly, you know that Chris is softer than he outwardly appears– you’re not blind to the way his cheeks and ears burn when you kiss him sweet and call him that name that makes his heart skip a beat. And unlike you, Chris knew what he was doing– so it was natural for him to always be the one leading your little song and dance, even when on the inside he felt like he was going to positively combust from the way your eyes sparkled at him.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to try– something that you couldn’t before, because your summer together passed by in a blink, and there was so much you didn’t know when your relationship first began. And Chris has taught you a lot in your time together– maybe more than he even realizes.

He may not know it, but he’s made you into a real insatiable minx. And now that you know he’s willing to beg and plead and grovel for you to take him back, oh how it makes your heart race with the possibilities. How far can you take it? How far is he willing to go for you, to prove that he’s devoted to you entirely? Would he really do anything to keep you?

Chris told you, just a few moments ago as the sock hop was coming to an end, that he’ll do anything and everything to make sure you don’t regret giving him another chance with him. He looked you straight in the eyes, vulnerable and entirely sincere, squeezed your hands in his as countless promises left his lips. 

Could he be manipulating you? Is he nothing but a dirty liar? It’s certainly possible– but you’d like to believe the Chris you knew last summer is the truest version of himself. You’d like to believe that the Chris you saw tonight isn’t an act to keep stringing you along. So you want to try something– something bold, something the you of last summer would’ve never thought to do.

You don’t think your shyness will ever entirely evaporate given that Chris is such an utter dreamboat, but he does well enough at playing it cool, so who's to say you can’t do it too? You can be playful and enticing, can play it coy and innocent while you flutter your lashes at him, can smile and pout at him in a way that makes desire spread through his veins like explosive, hot fireworks.

When Chris walks back out of the building you have to make a conscious effort to ignore the butterflies in your stomach– you’ve decided you’re a woman on a mission tonight, after all. The parking lot is sparse now, and the last stragglers from the sock hop all shuffle to their cars, his sister and her group of friends being among them.

Though you only met her briefly, you offer her a pleasant wave goodbye, and she smiles at you as she returns it– though you don’t miss the way she shoots her older brother a look after. A look that says “don’t fuck this up for yourself.” It almost makes you giggle– you like having his sister on your side; you get the impression she’ll chew him out if he doesn’t shape up the way he’s promised to. 

Chris doesn’t turn to you until after his sister and her friends have peeled out of the parking lot– you’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to make sure she was going to be safe, or if it’s because he felt like she’d gotten enough of an eyeful of him being affection with you, and he’d be embarrassed if she saw anymore. You like either answer.

“Hi baby,” he says, soft and sweet as he smiles, and it makes your heart once again skip a beat. Even after hours of dancing, he still looks utterly perfect– not a single piece of his greased up hair out of place. You hope you’re faring the same– you didn’t really get a chance to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the night to know for certain, but you want Chris to think you look divine.

“Am I taking you straight home?” he asks; it’s dark out now, but you still have a fair amount of time before you’re expected back home. And while he’d love to spend more time with you, he isn’t going to assume– this is a trial period, after all; he still has to earn that, he’s sure.

Calling you his earlier was more hope on his end than confidence– he wants you to be his, but he knows he has to earn your trust back first. And he’s going to be a gentleman– any boundary you have, he’ll adhere to, no matter what. He refuses to fuck up with you again.

“No,” you answer short and simple, smiling up at him as you do. But before he can ask you what you want to do until curfew, you’re speaking again. “My shoe's untied,” you pout, leaning back against his car while gently lifting your foot from the ground to show him, “can you fix it for me, please?”

“You want me to tie it for you, baby?” he laughs a little as he tilts his head to the side, thinking you’re just oh so cute when you keep up the pout as you nod. He gets down on one knee easily, and you put your foot right on his knee, watching as he ties your laces back together. When he’s finished, you don’t put your foot back on the ground– you press it right to the middle of his chest.

“Baby?” Chris looks up at you curiously– and there’s a twinkle in your eye he’s never seen before. He almost thinks you’re going to kick him back on his behind, but you don’t– you take your skirt into your hands, and start to pull it up. Slowly, it rises above your calf, your knee, your thigh, until he can see your pretty white panties, with its precious little pink bow in the center.

“S-Sugar, what– what are you–” he stammers, struggling to form words in a way he never has before. You’ve never exposed yourself to him like this– just out in the open, with no barrier between you and the rest of the world. You aren’t in your bedroom, you aren’t inside the car with the windows and hood up– you’re out, in the middle of the fucking parking lot where anyone could see. 

Fuck, even the times at the beach, when he made love to you in the sand, were much, much more secluded than this– because those excursions were isolated, close to your aunt’s beach house and happening in the dead of night. And this is very much not– it’s barely even 9 o’clock, and you’re at a public venue; anyone could come by, and for any reason.

“I need your help with something else too, daddy,” you say as you pout some more, clearly acting coy, and he swallows as he stares up at you. “Can you do it, daddy? Can you help me?” You take as much of your skirt's fabric into one hand as you can, keeping it lifted above your thigh while you move your other hand between your legs, pulling your panties to the side to show him your pussy.

The action sends all of Chris’ blood careening to his cock– he can’t believe you’re really doing this right now. “Right– right here? N-Now?” he gulps, taking a quick glance around the parking lot. You’re alone now, but still– he never thought you’d do something so bold. Even just fooling around in the back seat of the cadillac with as much privacy as he could give you made you impossibly shy.

“Yes, here, now,” you tell him, keeping your panties hooked to the side with two fingers, while using the other two to spread your folds apart for him the best you can. You’re trying to entice him, and fuck, is it working. He never thought he’d see you this way, and it’s making him feel so utterly electric– he’s a fucking live wire, and he’ll pour his current straight into you.

Anything you want from him, it’s yours– he doesn’t need any convincing, he’s already impossibly ensnared by the rope that is your desire for him. And fuck, he said he wouldn't do this, said he'd be a gentleman, take things slow and build back up to intimacy with you– but if you're practically begging him for it, how can he resist?

Chris takes your foot into his hand, carefully lifts it from his chest and throws your leg over his shoulder before he crawls closer to you. The concrete of the parking lot ground is brutal against his knees, but he doesn’t give a shit– you need him, and that’s all that matters.

He replaces your hand, keeps your panties shoved aside with his own. Now that your hand is free you use it to hold onto the car door and give yourself some extra support as he starts placing kisses to your clit. His lips always feel so perfect– especially when he licks them first, gets them nice and wet for you; the sensation draws out a pleasant sigh, but you both know it isn’t really enough.

Chris likes to tease you, make you wait until you’re squirming and trembling from all his repeated kisses, gets you so worked up you could beg and cry before he finally gives you his tongue. But tonight is about getting what you want, when you want it– so as much as you enjoy his soft little kisses, you’re not going to let him work you up.

He’ll be the one fraying at the edges, the one desperate and pleading, the one who feels like his brain is filled with cotton, looking up at you from down on his knees with glassy eyes full of need. You let go of the car door, bring your hand to his head and thread your fingers through his hair. You pull back just enough to have his head tilting away from your pussy, making his eyes land straight up at you.

“Baby–” he gasps, and again you meet his gaze with that sinfully deceitful pout. “You said you’d do anything for me, daddy,” you say as you shoot him your best doe eyed look, “Did you mean it? Will you do anything for me?” Fuck, you’ve got him throbbing– you can see his erection straining against his jeans, and it nearly makes you grin in delight.

Still, you don’t crack– Chris always does well at only showing you the version of himself he wants you to see, and you will too. You won’t give him your meek looks or timid declarations of desire for more of his touch– he’ll only see a new you; a confident you who knows exactly what she wants. You’ve learned from the best, after all.

“Well?” you demand when he doesn’t immediately answer, and you watch him swallow, swearing you can see the shiver that spreads down his spine and throughout the rest of his body. “Y-Yeah baby, I meant it. I’d do anything for you,” he tells you, hoping you can’t see how red his face and ears are getting in the low light.

“Prove it– prove you want me, prove you’re good for something,” you say, and again he shivers, breath catching in his throat. “Eat it, make me cum.” Fuck, Chris is reeling– he still can’t even believe it’s really you talking to him this way. His brain feels like a faulty circuit board, all his synapses sparking dangerously as they fire off, ready to ignite his blood and engulf him in an uncontrollable flame of desire.

When you let go of his hair, he wastes no time diving right into your pussy, eating you out like a man starved. He brings his free hand to your ass, squeezes and holds you in place while he shakes his head to get more of you on his tongue, his nose bumping your clit and making your legs quiver.

You bite your lip, doing your best to suppress the loud moan he brings out of you by sucking on your clit. His plush lips wrapped around it, the flicks of his tongue, how expertly he sucks– it’s already so overwhelming, in the best way possible. Chris does his best to sink lower, tries to lick at your hole and get his tongue inside, but it’s hard like this– he’s not sure if he can.

“B-Baby, doll, let me lay you down, in the car, let me–” he pulls away from your dripping center to look up at you, and fuck, he looks ruined in the prettiest way imaginable. His eyes are hazy and pleading, glistening with your arousal from the tip of his nose all the way down to his chin, sweat dripping down his brow. “Need to spread you out, I– please? Gotta taste more of you.” 

Shit, you can’t deny you want it– especially not when he’s begging like this. You nod, and he smiles at you in appreciation, a smile that makes your knees even weaker than they already are. You take your leg off his shoulder, and he quickly rises to his feet, giving you a messy kiss before he ushers you away from the car door to open it for you.

You crawl into the back seat, and he follows, slamming the door shut behind him. He waits until you get comfortable, not acting until you're lying propped against the opposite door of the car. Chris hooks your panties in his fingers, pulls them down your legs and tosses them aside into the footwell; it'll be a sweet treat for him when he finds them again later.

He'll keep them, he thinks– stuff ‘em in his pocket and take them back to his room, where they'll lie safe and protected under his pillow. It's a dirty thought, one that'd otherwise fill his gut with shame, but right now all he feels is need– need for you to cum on his tongue, need to give you everything you want and more.

He settles on his stomach between your legs, and it’s certainly not easy, but he manages well enough. One of your legs ends up over his shoulder again while the other stays spread out with the help of his hand holding you under the knee. And finally, his tongue dips into your hole, and it’s pure bliss– maybe even more so for him than you. He’s hungry, utterly ravenous; all he can think, breath, and taste is you, you, you.

“Chris– your fingers, need your fingers,” you whine more shamelessly than you would've otherwise liked, but you know he enjoys it. He separates from you long enough to run his fingers between your folds, making sure they’re nice and slick for you before he presses them to your hole. 

He slides one finger in first, bringing his mouth back to your clit while you adjust to the feeling. Your legs are already trembling by the time he adds another finger, and when he starts curling his fingers to hit your most sensitive spot while flicking his tongue against your clit you can hardly even breathe– it’s just so, so good.

Your stomach is clenching, thighs and legs shaking hard, your release building up with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Oh, fuck, Chris–” you cry when he presses the tips of his fingers into your spot harder. You’re certain that if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re still wearing your shoes, your toes would be curling from the pleasure.

Your pussy sounds so sloppy and messy, and Chris himself isn’t making it any better– he’s drooling so much, his saliva drenching you just as much as your own dripping arousal. You’re breathing hard, and even your hands are shaking as they continue to hold up your skirt to watch him devour you.

“Oh my god, ‘m gonna cum, I’m gonna– fuck, gonna cum for you daddy, please don’t stop,” you’re crying loud– and you know you should at least try to be quieter considering how out in the open you are, but you’re too far gone to care. With your head thrown back, you whimper and moan, high pitched and loud, eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you.

It feels like it’s endless, the waves of pleasure ceaselessly jolting your body as your vision blurs white; and you feel wet; so, so wet. It’s only when you finally come down from the high and lift your head back up from where it thunked against the car door to look at Chris that you realize why you feel so drenched.

It’s not just your thighs that are dampened– it’s your skirt, Chris’ face and shirt, the leather of his seats; all of it is soaked with your cum. Your face starts to burn hot, and you swallow as Chris stares at you, almost bewildered. “Baby– did you just..?” You squirted for him, because of him– he doesn’t even fucking care how much of a nightmare it’s going to be to clean his car, all he can think about is how fucking sexy it is.

You simply nod, because it’s all you can think to do– you really weren’t expecting this to happen. “Oh my god, baby, you have to do it again, please, you have to,” he practically whines, and his enthusiasm over it makes you giggle. You honestly feel more than a little shy about it, but Chris’s apparent elation makes it worth the tinge of embarrassment.

You reach out for him, take the necklace dangling from his neck into your hands and pull, urging him to come closer to you. He crawls up your body, and you kiss him, sliping your tongue into his mouth and tasting yourself all over him. “Fuck, you’re so dirty baby,” he groans when you pull away, “what are we going to do, huh?”

It makes you giggle again, a soft thing full of mischievous delight. He basks in it, giggles with you before he kisses you again. “Need your cock now,” you tell him when he pulls away, and shit, he’d nearly forgotten how fucking hard he is whilst wrapped up in pleasuring you. He can feel it straining against his jeans, desperate for stimulation of its own.

“Yeah? Want my cock baby?” he asks, grinning at you the way he always had before; you tug on his silver chain again in response. “Don’t forget, you’re giving me everything I want. Everything, okay?” you say once his face is mere inches from yours again, making him look you closely in the eyes. Chris swallows as he nods, the smile you offer him once again making his brain feel fuzzy and floaty.

He looks you over once more, really takes it all in before he scrambles over the front seat, reaching for the glove box where he still has some spares from your time together over the summer. Condom in hand, he settles back over you, and you help him with his jeans while he tears the package open. He spreads it quickly down his length, and you take your legs in hand, holding them under your knees to keep yourself open for him. 

The sight of you like that is dizzying– legs open, skirt bunched up all the way to your stomach, pussy wet and glistening, with the hair there matting from how wet you are; you’re perfect. So fucking perfect. He moans as he pushes into you, so slick that you take him with ease. You take his face in one of your hands and pull him down to kiss you, a desperate one that makes pleasure lick over every inch of his skin.

Chris rolls his hips into you slowly to start, while you let go of the leg you're still holding to wrap your limbs around him, keeping him pressed close. He grabs onto the car door, uses it to keep himself steady when he starts to pick up the pace of his hips, harsh breaths and low moans leaving him freely. Neither of you are trying to be quiet, the street lights are burning bright, the hood of his car and the windows are down, anyone could hear you or see you– and the excitement of it all makes the pleasure he feels all the more intense.

“Baby, your tits– let me see ‘em, please, can I see ‘em?” he asks between labored breaths– he needs to see them, has missed them more than is probably allowed. You quickly do as he asks, fumbling with the top few buttons of your blouse to expose yourself to him. You tug down your bra so he can see your breasts bare, and again he groans, bringing his free hand to one of them to brush his thumb over your hardened nipple.

“Oh, you’re so pretty– so, so pretty baby,” he says, groaning when the words make you clench harder around him. It doesn’t take long for the car to start rocking with the motion of his thrusts, his rhythm quickly growing sloppier. He’s been so worked up, and believe it or not, he hasn’t actually fucked anyone since you– he feels so high strung and on edge, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.

He just hopes he can make you cum again before he does, or at least make you cum with him– he needs you to be happy with him. You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, you can tell that he’s already impossibly close– so, like the little minx you are, you talk dirty to him, wanting to see him utterly unravel at the seams. “You gonna fill me up, daddy? Make this pussy all yours?”

Chris gasps and shudders, goosebumps erupting all over his impossibly hot skin. He knows he can’t actually– all he’s going to really fill up with his cum is the condom, but fuck, the thought of it is making his head swim. “Y-Yeah, gonna fill you up baby, daddy’s gonna make you so full,” he breathes, and God, that really does it for you.

You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick, practiced circles. Even through the condom he can feel you gushing and soaking his cock, and it sends him over the edge– as do the sounds of your incredibly pretty whimpers and moans of pleasure. His hips still when he cums, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes roll back, head thrown back in utmost bliss.

It takes Chris a few moments to recollect himself and catch his breath, and he slowly slips out of you when does. He tucks his softening length back in his jeans before he helps you fix your bra, and smoothes your skirt out over your legs while you button your blouse back up. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, wiping messy strands of hair out of your face.

You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, faces flushed and hot, hair utterly a mess– it’s obvious, even with your clothes fixed up, what you’ve been doing. “Mhm, are you?” you ask, and he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m peachy keen, jelly bean,” he replies and you giggle, kissing him once more.

He looks at himself in his rearview mirror when he pulls away, does his best to fix his messy hair while you lift yourself up from your propped position and stretch out your aching limbs. He then takes another glance around the parking lot, and notes that you’re still the only ones here– thank God. He was too enraptured by you to check earlier, and he’s grateful that no one else has showed up.

“Should probably get you home now, yeah?” Chris asks, looking at the clock on his dashboard and noticing it’s now getting dangerously close to your 10 o’clock curfew. He helps you get into the passenger seat when you nod, and you smile at him when he settles in beside you. He turns the key in the ignition, one hand resting on your thigh while the other stays on the wheel, and he drives you home.

Chris parks up the street, like he did all those times at your aunt’s beach house. He watches you walk over to your house, and he smiles when you turn around to blow him a kiss. At 11 he leaves his car, walks up the street to your home, and approaches the only window with a light still on– the window to your new bedroom. And you smile as you open it for him, letting him crawl his way inside.

He sees the teddy bear he won you at the fair sitting right in the middle of your bed, nestled against your pillows, and he smiles, delighted that you still kept it even after he broke your heart. “I love you, baby,” he tells you in a whisper after a sweet kiss, “never gonna hurt you again, I promise.”

“You better keep that promise, mister. Or I might just have to make you jealous again,” you warn and tease him with a cheeky little smile. He strips out of his jeans and tee shirt as you turn off your lamp, lies down beside you after you settle into your bed, runs his hand up and down your back as you press yourself against him. Head on his chest, with your arm and leg tossed over him, he kisses your head and smiles once more– because as he promised, this is just the start of a lifetime.

network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet

[steddie-as-they-come]

sequel to my roommate steddie au!! here's the first part! tags have changed, it's now more mature with some fade to black sex

Steve’s so warm. It’s not fair.

Eddie must have half his wardrobe on, tucked under all the blankets on his bed, and Steve is just sitting over there, in a T-shirt and thin sweatpants, like the jackass he is.

"You look cold." Steve says, shifting a bit.

Eddie glares at him. "No shit, Sherlock," he bites out, trying to reign in his temper. All things considered, Steve's a pretty great roommate, sharing his food and his children with Eddie. It's not his fault the college decides to let their students freeze to death.

Steve, to his credit, just laughs at him. "Okay, fine. I was gonna offer for you to come hang out over here, since you're over the vent and I'm not, but if you're gonna be like that-"

Eddie practically teleports out of bed. "No! No, please, Steve, did I ever mention how great your hair looks today and how kind you are to me-"

Steve laughs again, moving out of the way and patting the bed next to him. Eddie doesn't hesitate to scurry up and tuck himself into a little cocoon of his own blankets, trying not to bump Steve's arm as he focuses on his homework. He doesn't completely succeed, and his hand brushes against Steve's bare arm.

"What the fuck?" he says loudly. "Why are you the temperature of a campfire?"

Steve shrugs. "I've always run hot." he says. "It's great during winter movie nights because everyone piles on top of me, but then I get banished during summer movie nights, which is no fun."

Eddie's already sprawled over his shoulder, sighing happily, like some kind of lizard on a sunlit rock. If August Eddie could see him now, he'd try to smack the shit outta him for falling for a straight guy. One who was his roommate, no less.

But it's hard not to when Steve is kind, and accepting, and a little bit stupid, and hot as hell. It isn't like he just tolerates Eddie's physical affection either, he seems to welcome it. Steve even started initiating it, wrapping an arm around Eddie's shoulders, grabbing his arm to haul him out of particularly big crowds, and the hugs. Steve loves hugs.

There's a darkness to Steve too, the way he moves, the way he's always checking over his shoulder, flinching at flickering lights, always ready for a fight.

It makes Eddie wonder if Steve is like him.

Eddie wiggles a bit, adjusting his chin to prop on Steve's shoulder. "Whatcha workin' on?" he asks, just to be nosy.

Steve rolls his eyes, leaning away. "None of your business." he teases.

Eddie misses the warmth as soon as Steve's gone. "Nooooo," he whines. "Come back. I won't look!"

Steve stays leaned away, raising his eyebrows. "You're so weird." he says. It's not in a mean way, more that he's bewildered that one person can be this strange. Eddie takes this as a compliment.

He pretends to freeze to death, jerking and flinching. "It's...so cold." he mutters. "I see...the light... All because my roommate...let me freeze to death..."

Finally, Steve's blissful warmth comes back, and Steve sighs, tapping his pen against his paper. Eddie tries to peek again, and recognizes familiar words.

"Is that a character sheet?" he yells, and Steve frowns at him.

"You said you wouldn't look!"

Eddie waves him off, grabbing for the sheet. "Steve, this is D&D. It's automatically my business when it's D&D."

Steve finally hands it over. "Fine. Yes, it's a character sheet. Dustin's birthday is next Monday, and I was gonna ask you if I could join your game as a present to him."

Eddie nods, inspecting the sheet. Dustin's been begging for Steve to join basically since they started their little arrangement, where Eddie DM's for them in exchange for no more open hostility in the dorms. It may have worked a little too well, given Eddie's budding crush, but c'est la vie.

Eddie hands it back. "You are supposed to give the DM the character sheet a couple days in advance so they have time to work you into the plot."

Steve winces. "Really? Shit, I didn't know that."

"It's fine, I got some ideas, just from looking it over. You can borrow a spare set of dice and one of my miniatures too."

"Oh good, I had no idea if I needed any of that stuff."

"Do you want me to do a little crash course for you?" Eddie asks, preparing to brave the cold to grab his little homemade handbook.

Steve gives him a deadpan look. "Are you kidding me? Dustin is gonna love being better than me at this. I might as well go in with a regular six-sided die and pretend I thought that's the one I needed."

Eddie laughs. "Fair enough." The cold touches his neck and he burrows back into his blankets. "This fucking sucks, by the way. The cold."

"You're a big baby, man. It's fine."

"Ah, yes. Forgot I live with a walking, talking furnace." Eddie rolls his eyes, muttering, "This is worse than the time I was left outside in the cold."

"Wait, what?" Steve turns to him, eyes flinty like steel. "You were...what?"

"Oh. Um." Eddie's not sure how much to reveal, but he figures it had to come out eventually. "My dad left me out in the cold when I was thirteen. I think he thought it'd fix me. I just got really sick, though." He laughs humorlessly.

"You said...fix you?" Steve says, and Eddie's heart drops. He backs away from Steve before starting to talk, trying to find something to defend himself with if Steve gets mad.

"Yeah." Eddie says. "He saw me...kissing a boy."

Steve's eyes widen, and then he scoots closer. Eddie's breath hitches.

"Me too." Steve whispers.

Now it's Eddie's turn to be shocked. Steve continues. "Not...not left outside in the cold. They'd need to be home long enough for that. But...bisexual. I like girls and guys."

There's a tense, charged silence in the room. Eddie draws up all his courage. "I like you, Steve."

Steve stares at Eddie’s lips. “Can I-” he whispers breathlessly.

Eddie, seemingly just as entranced, nods, and Steve leans forward, pressing his lips against Eddie. Almost unconsciously, Eddie tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and Steve hums happily. 

Eddie’s tongue swipes at the sealed lines of Steve’s lips. Steve freezes, then slowly, tentatively, opens his mouth. 

Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. Eddie practically pulls Steve down towards him, hands greedily exploring every inch of Steve he could reach. Steve gladly returns the favor, sneaking his hands between Eddie’s back and the mattress so he can feel the muscles lining Eddie’s spine flex and move as Eddie kisses him stupid. 

Eddie pulls back, breaking the kiss. Steve whines, actually whines, and dives back in, but Eddie stops him with a gentle hand on his chest. 

He kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth, and Steve chases it, leaning subtly towards Eddie, but Eddie just keeps moving, kissing a trail from his mouth to his chin, to the soft skin where Steve's jawline blends into his neck. Steve keeps moving, running his hands up and down Eddie’s back just for something to do. 

Eddie reaches the small curve where his shoulder meets his neck, and Steve feels a small scrape of teeth against his skin. He whimpers. 

“Oh?” Eddie says, the first thing he’s said since Steve leaned in. His voice is raspy, and Steve privately thinks it's the hottest fucking thing in the world. “There?” 

He kisses there again, but this time there's no teeth, and Steve stays quiet, breathing slowly, in and out, in and out. 

“Or…did you like it when I did this?” 

Eddie leans forward and nips at Steve’s collar, and Steve keens. “Eddieee…” he says, dragging the vowels out too long, leaving that name hanging in the air.

Eddie tilts his head back up and captures Steve’s lips in another kiss, tongue sliding into Steve’s mouth smoothly. He kisses for a few seconds, then readjusts and gently nips at Steve’s lower lip. 

“Please, please Eddie,” Steve begs breathlessly, not even sure what he's pleading for. Eddie seems to get it though, and slides his hands under his shirt to cup Steve’s waist.

Steve laces his hands through Eddie's hair and pulls, and Eddie lets out a moan, pushing Steve off of him and rolling so he's on top, enjoying the feeling of Steve under him on the mattress.

"I've never been so glad for the cold," he whispers against Steve's lips, and kisses him again.

[werepuppy-steve]

i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)

the bachelor au where steve's the bachelor and eddie is a contestant, but not because he actually wants to be, he's just in it for the paycheck. robin is also a contestant but only because her parents sent in her application without her knowing and she isn't out to them yet.

they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.

until they both start going on dates with him and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.

only robin doesn't want to date him. he's slowly moving his way up the ranks to becoming her best friend, sure, but this is still tv. she's still expected to kiss him and confess her feelings for him. and when the time comes for her to do that, she can't.

they're in venice. steve is leaning in and robin is very aware of the cameras filming them. the back of her neck goes cold and her stomach churns and suddenly she's running in the opposite direction. her italian is passable so she ends up getting a taxi back to the hotel production put them in.

she locks herself in her en suite and presses her forehead against the cold porcelain. she doesn't know how long she sits there until her phone buzzes and she checks the notification. the nausea rises up her throat again. she forgot she gave steve her number.

there's a knock on her room door and another text.

r u ok? can i come in?

robin debates it but figures she owes him and explanation. she lets him in and they sit on the bathroom floor. robin tells him why she's on the show in the first place, about how she didn't know her parents signed her up until she got the phone call from the casting director. tells him that even if she gets kicked off, she can still use the money for her student loans.

she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.

steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."

and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.

steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.

robin would like that.

she apologizes to the production crew the next day and they're understanding and steve and robin get a re-do of their date. it's much more genuine this time, filled with laughs and digs as they eat gelato along the river and people watch and gossip.

it's the best robin's ever been on.

eddie, on the other hand. he's absolutely head over heels for steve, which is surprising even for him. he's trailer park trash, he's got absolutely nothing on steve harrington. not the name, not the money.

hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.

eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.

he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."

eddie's flabbergasted.

steve opens up about all the fake people in his life, the ones who just take advantage of them and use him for their own gains. the ones who don't even bother to get to know the real him. the one that likes to play guitar and hang out with the gaggle of teenagers that follow him around all the time for some unknown reason.

he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.

this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.

the show has a deadline, of course, and steve can't just spend all his time with eddie and robin. there are other contestants. robin knows her rose is strictly platonic and steve has already called her multiple times freaking out about his growing crush on eddie. she knows eddie has this in the bag.

the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.

when steve chooses eddie after a moment of dramatic silence that kind of puts his own dm dramatics to shame, eddie doesn't hesitate to jump in steve's arms, wrap his legs around his waist, and plant a sloppy one on him right in front of the cameras.

[ihavethedreamies]

In the Doghouse | Yeosang

Kang Yeosang - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.8k

Pairing: Dog-Hybrid!Yeosang x Cat-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical/Period, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Kitten, Love), Swearing, Kissing, Biting/Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Breeding Kink (u3u)

Trigger Warning: There is some talk of abuse and/or neglect in this. It doesn't go into detail, but the reader in beginning is living with a cruel relative. It's not related to Yeosang or the relationship between the two. Also, Yeosang is a 'Police Dog', but there is very little talk of police and cops.

Author's Note: This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a knotted doggy cock. Yeosang is supposed to be a Doberman, even though the breed wasn't in this time period. This is set in the late Victorian Era of London, and sorry if it's not completely accurate to the time.

I will be doing all the members and uploading them as I go. I normally like to upload a whole series at a time but I'm trying to pack to move.

-> Series Hub <-

🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

🐯 San's 🐯

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"Geddat fuckin' cat!" You heard the storekeeper’s shout echo through the narrow street as you dashed in the opposite direction. You clutched the bag closer to you, hoping to hide it from prying eyes. You purposefully wrapped your tail around your leg, hoping to make it less obvious, ears flattening to your head to blend in with your hair. Turning a narrow corner into an alley, you heard some footsteps against the cobblestone behind you, but they ran past where you had entered. Leaving the alley into the opposite street, you turned the way you had come, back toward your house. Sliding into another back alley, you placed the strings of the bag in your mouth. Without stopping, you jumped up onto the ladder hanging down from your second-story window. Climbing up the rungs, you pulled the window open all the way and jumped into your bedroom. Unhooking the rope and wood ladder from the windowsill, you reeled it in and shut the window. Panting for breath, you rested against the wall, sliding down so you were sitting on the floor. Heaving for air, you glanced at the bag that you had brought it, laying in a heap on the floor under the window. Finally, when you could breathe easily enough, you got on your knees so you could reach and grab the sack, opening it. Inside, the two loaves of bread were still steaming and your stomach rumbled in desire.

"Man, I wanna fish…" You sniffed in displeasure, tail whipping angrily behind you. It was bad enough you had to steal food to eat, but all you could typically manage was some bread or maybe potatoes. As you stood to close your door so you could enjoy your haul, you heard banging from downstairs. Someone was pounding on the door. You heard your aunt call for the person to hold on and you stood still, staring at the open door of your bedroom. Did they really find you? They never had before…

"Hello, madam. I hate to bother you, but I was told that a thief might have made their way into your second story window." You heard from down the hall, at the base of the stairs. Your eyes widened in panic and you prayed that your aunt would cover for you. Fat chance.

"Second story? You've got to… (Y/N) get down here, right now!" She screeched and your ears flattened at the noise. Stepping forward as quietly as you could, you stuck your head out just enough to look past the door frame to see your aunt standing halfway up the stairs. Her own tail was swinging back and forth with ire and her arms were crossed. The nastiest look you had ever seen was on her face and you clicked your tongue.

"What did you steal this time, you lazy stray!" She hissed and you shuffled out of the room, bag hanging limply from your hand at your side. There was a man in a police uniform in the doorway, and next to him…A dog hybrid. He was…beautiful, honestly. Prettier than you for sure. His hair was longer, with a slight wave at the end of the black strands, two tall, pointed ears sticking out from the top of his head. You couldn't see a tail, so it was probably docked into a nub. The hairs at the back of your neck and base of your tail rose, shoulders tensing as you got to the top of the staircase. His sharp eyes met yours, and you knew that's how they found you. Fucking police dogs…

"Give me that!" Your aunt swiped the bag from you, her claw-like nails scratching your hands, making you pull them back. Holding your other hand over the red marks, you glared hard at her when she opened the sack.

"Bread?! You stole bread?!" She hissed, fierce eyes searing holes into your skull.

"Maybe if you didn't fuckin' starve me, I wudduna had ta'!" You hissed back and you flinched as you saw her raise her hand.

"Now, madam, it’s nothing to harm her over. We'll take her to the station." A smooth, deep voice prompted you to open your eyes, seeing the guard dog holding the wrist of your nasty aunt. His grip was loose, so as not to dig his thick claws into your aunt's skin. He should have though… Your aunt took her arm away from him when he let her go and you were more willing to go with him then stay there any longer. Honestly, jail would be a welcome change. You followed the dog down the stairs and your aunt went as well, handing the stolen loaves to the human officer. With a strong hand on your bicep, the police dog led you further down the street, his partner following.

"Did you really steal because she starves you?" The elder officer asked you, his tone gentler than you expected. Your aunt wasn't poor, by any means, but you lived in what was equivalent to a storage room.

"I get a potato every other day if I don't." Your tail flicked nervously, ear flicking when a drop of water hit it. Glancing up at the sky, you sneered at the gathering clouds, feeling another drop land on your face. You wiggled your nose, feeling the drop most likely wash a trail of dirt off your face.

"She doesn't feed you any meat?" The dog furrowed his brow, letting you go, eyes zigzagging over you. It was evident your clothes were somehow too big and too small at the same time, and your boots were old.

"Alley bastards don't deserve meat." You spat out the words you were so used to hearing. It wasn't your fault that your mother slept with a commoner, but your aunt and grandparents took it out on you. The only reason your mother's sister took you in was because she got a tax cut for listing you as living with her.

"How old are you, Miss (Y/N)?" The human officer asked.

"Twenty…somethin'…" You weren't for sure, never celebrated your birthday.

"I think the baker will be willing to forgive if we return the bread. Yeosang?" The officer looked at the dog and you did as well.

"The poverty shelter doesn't take cats, does it? Just dogs?"

"Yessir." The dog, Yeosang, sighed, glancing back to you. The rain seemed to be waiting as well, only a few drops falling as you looked nervously between the two men. What were they going to do with you?

"She could stay with me, if that is alright with her." Yeosang cast you a look, his gaze warm and you blinked in shock. Charity? Wow, you had heard of it before…

"Any where’s better than auntie's…" Your tail was still whipping and the elder officer nodded with a hum.

"Thank you, son. You may get off your shift early. Make sure she gets a good hot meal." The human smiled warmly himself and headed off toward the bakery, bread bag in hand.

"Are ya sure? I'm notta hassle?"

"No, kitten. Let's get you some meat." The hand that had been on your arm went to your upper back so he could pull you to walk next to him, then he led you presumably to his home. Right as you got under the awning over his front door, the rain started to pour.

***

"Slow down, love. There's plenty." The dog was way gentler with you than you expected. His home was nice and warm, cozy, and smelled good. He had presented you with bread that he had bought the day before, as well as some cured meats, cheese, even some fruit. Not sure where to start, you reached carefully for a slice of summer sausage and then your vision went red, your appetite raring to full force. Yeosang huffed in amusement, able to hear the rapid purr you let out as you ate. When he had removed his uniform coat, he just had on a thin white button up underneath. The shirt did very little to hide the obvious muscle underneath, the buttons struggling to hold still over his chest. As you had started to eat, he rolled the sleeves up to above his elbow, showing toned forearms. He ate more leisurely, and once you were no longer ravenous, you slowed your pace. You took each chance you got to look over him, he was absolutely stunning.

"Yer' from the far east, yah?" You asked around a mouthful of different things you had just shoved in. He hummed with a nod and your eyes flicked to the water ewer he had set on the table and he poured some into a stein. Eagerly taking the drink, you chugged it down, a little bit of the water dripping past your bottom lip. Letting you a groaning exhale after you had gotten everything down, you slumped in your chair. You hadn't felt so full in so long and you weren't expecting to get a nice meal when you stole the bread.

"Are ya' like…a saint or somethin?" You asked, not sure why he would help you.

"Pardon me?"

"You know, like those folks in the Bible that help…saints or whatever…" Your nail clicked against the glass cup you were holding. You weren't very educated, but you tried to retain what little bit of information you had learned.

"Oh, um, no. I think I would just qualify as generous." He smiled bashfully and you let out an 'ah' in realization.

"Thanks for the meal…I um, I don't want to go home but…"

"You don't have to go back there, kitten." The dog smiled, his own pointed ear drooping a bit along with his pitying gaze. Normally that look pissed you off, but you just felt bashful then.

"Do you have somewhere I can go, then?"

"I told you; you can stay here. I have a spare room anyway. It's hard for women to find work, harder yet for a cat hybrid…" He paused to think it seemed.

"I-I can clean! Or, uh…well, I'm good at physical stuff, I can run…places." You weren't sure what else specifically you could do, your only 'skill' was cleaning. Or stealing.

"If you want to help with housekeeping, that's up to you. I am more worried how people might see a man and woman living together outside of marriage." The dog grimaced a bit.

"Oh. Right." You hadn't thought about that… It was one thing for normal everyday people, but he was a public officer.

"What if ya’ hire me? As yer' official housekeep? That wouldn't look suspect, yeah?" You offered.

"That would probably work. For now. Here." He stood up, motioning for you to follow him. You did so, going toward the narrow front entryway and then up the steep stairs to his second floor. There was a room to the left, but he let you into the one on the right, the door right on the landing. It was pretty bare, and to most, small. However, it was way bigger than where you had been before and had a real bed.

"I-I can really stay here?" You felt your throat tighten, stepping further in.

"Of course, love. Tomorrow we can figure out the details, why don't you get some sleep?" You turned back to look at him, that warm and sincere smile still present. Overcome with emotion, you pounced forward, wrapping your arms around his toned middle, cheek to his chest.

"Thank you, Yeosang!" You sniffed, trying not to bawl. He rested his hand on your head, thumb rubbing the back of your ear.

"You're welcome, (Y/N)."

~*~*~

Over the next two months, you lived the best days of your life. Yeosang had commented that his house had never looked so clean, even though it wasn't messy before. After the third day there, and you had thrown up from overeating, you paced yourself more. Finally, you were used to being well fed, and you no longer looked like you were actually starving. The second week you were there, he had taken you to a tailor and bought you two new outfits, ones that actually fit. You preferred the simple shirt and pants, but he also got you a simple dress that was a soft blue. You cried. You had been crying a lot, so touched by how sweet he was being.

One day, you were in the market to buy a few things. No one that you had stolen from in the past knew it was you. Combined with being healthy and clean, you were also in a nice dress and your hair was done.

"(Y/N)!?" The voice made you stop cold, hand still reaching for a squash on the seller's stall table. Your aunt.

"You stupid twat!" She screeched and before you registered where she was, her hand was in your hair, claws scratching your scalp. You yowled, dropping your basket, potatoes and apples rolling away. People gasped, turning to watch the fight, but not stepping in to help.

"I've had to pay more than ever now that you left! I had to pay a bloody fine as well, endangering a ward or something! You little whore! I know you're living with a man not your husband! What would your mother think, you raising your tail for a dog?!" She was screaming, hissing and spitting. You tried to get her to let you go, but not wanting to fight and ruin your dress. You knew the words she was speaking weren't true, but the people around didn't, and you didn't want the negative gossip to get back to Yeosang. When a blowing whistle hit your ears, you mewled in relief, rapid footsteps nearing. The horrible woman was pulled away from you, and you slumped into a pile, holding your head.

"(Y/N), are you okay, love?" Yeosang was quick to your side, looking over your head. A growl was rumbling in his chest as he shot a searing glare at the other woman. You didn't look up to see who the other officers were subduing her, burying your head in Yeosang's chest to hide.

"Oh, kitten." He whined, holding you to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he easily lifted you, carrying you toward home, ignoring the stares and whispers.

As you sat on the table, he dabbed at the scratches with a cloth dipped in alcohol, the disinfectant stinging. You winced again and he apologized, trying to be gentle.

"Did you hear what she said?" you whispered. Your eyes were glossing over the bottle next to you, brain trying to process the letters you saw. Yeosang had been teaching you, but you could only read the big word, 'VODKA'.

"It's not true, so it doesn't matter." he whispered back.

"Maybe…I should leave?" Your voice cracked, really not wanting to follow through with the suggestion. The cloth on your head left and he stepped back, hand on your chin to tilt your head back. He looked over your face, noticing your red blotchy cheeks and glossy eyes.

"Why?"

"Because…what if it comes back and hurts you…?" You sniffed, trying to avoid his eyes. His hand left your chin, but then both went to cup your cheeks.

"(Y/N), kitten, I would be heartbroken if you left." The dog's deep voice was so warm, soft, like his hugs.

"Yeah?" He wiped a tear away from your eye and smiled, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours.

"Yes. If you're so worried…" He drifted off, one hand leaving your jaw to take yours.

"What if we get married?" He finished and it was like time stopped. Your ears started to ring and you slowly lifted your head back up to look him in the eye again.

"What?" Your voice was so soft that if he wasn't a dog or another hybrid, he probably wouldn't have heard.

"(Y/N), I know it's only been a couple months, but I've fallen in love with you. I want you to stay with me." He brought your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. You burst into tears then, crying hard, harder than you had before, babbling nonsense.

"I-I-I want to stay too!" You cried and he pulled you into his chest, thumb rubbing the back of your ear.

"Then?"

"I wanna be your wife." You mumbled, sniffing hard so you didn't drip snot on his uniform shirt.

The next few minutes were nearly a blur, your mind finally caught up as your back hit his bed, his lips fervently pressing to yours. His breath was heaving, chest rumbling and his sandalwood and rosewater scent was growing stronger. You felt like he was going to swallow you whole, and you wondered why it was said cats and dogs didn't get along. You had never felt so loved unconditionally and wholly but by Yeosang, a dog, despite that you were a cat. An alley cat at that. In that moment though, you truly saw him as a big, strong working dog, easily surrounding the little stray cat that had been taken into his home. But instead of growling and scaring the little kitty, the big pup had laid down and wrapped around the small cat, protecting and loving her.

"Your tongue's rough." He huffed in amusement, only pulling back a second before his mouth sealed back to yours, tongue wrapping around your smaller one. You whimpered and mewled, head growing hazy from his kisses. Your back arched as his mouth left yours, trailing to your jaw and down to your neck. As he unbuttoned your dress, he licked and sucked over the skin revealed, tugging at the fabric to get it over your breasts so he could shuck it off. The dress floated down to the floor behind him, settling on the floor with a flutter. Once you were down to your undergarments, nothing more than a thin chemise and light set of stays, he sat up to kneel over you. He had luckily taken his uniform jacket off earlier, because in his haste to remove his shirt, two of the buttons flew off, clattering against the wood floor. You had seen him shirtless before, but never had the chance to touch, so you had to take the chance. Yeosang chuckled, his ears drooping a bit in pleasure as your small, warm hands ran over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach. He really was physical perfection. Biting your lip, your hands went to work on his belt and he took the chance to untie your stays. You felt a little more air flow easier threw your lungs as he pulled the garment off and you squeaked as he moved. Quickly, so quickly, he pulled your chemise off as well, leaving you bare, and essentially picked you up and tossed you back up the bed. As you tried to get your bearings, you didn’t notice him resting his stomach on the bed.

“Y-Yeosang!” Your nails dug fast into the sheets as his long tongue lapped a path through your slit. A growl rumbled from him and his hands held your thighs apart so he could slide his tongue into your cunt, the feeling made you twitch and shiver. He was breathing so hard through his nose you felt the puffs of air against your clit, tail flicking against the bed. Something was rising fast in your tummy, and he could feel your gummy walls clench unevenly around his tongue. The dog’s nose bumped your clit once more and you nearly squealed as your orgasm hit. He eagerly drank up the slick that flowed from you, licking his chops as he pulled away once you were done. He smiled down at you, softly, admiring your red face and heaving chest. Before you could really come to reality, he had flipped you onto your stomach. There was some rustling, and you had been too busy trying to register what had just happened, the next thing you knew, his bare body was laying over yours. He didn't rest down too hard, he was bigger and heavier, but you shivered at his skin on yours, hard chest to your back. You shivered as his hard cock nestled in the crook your ass.

"Big as my fuckin' arm…" You huffed to yourself and he chuckled, biting his lip, chest rumbling.

"Think your sweet cunt can take it?" His deep voice right in your ear was in itself orgasmic and your core was rapidly heating. You were pretty sure you hadn't had a heat in so long from being in poor health, and so it seemed your system needed to compensate. Your whole body was rapidly rising in temperature, he could tell from where his skin pressed to yours. The delightful scent of vanilla and lavender you normally exuded was growing stronger, the aroma filling his lungs. You whimpered when his strong arm wrapped under your stomach, lifting your hips into the air as he grinded his cock against your weeping folds. He wasn't normally one for crass language like you, but he was spewing sweet filth as you tried to formulate a thought to respond. The heat was nearly growing painful, and even though he was huge and you inexperienced, you needed him inside.

"Such a pretty pussy, kitten. Bet it's leaking so much to let me in. Take my cock and my knot." He groaned when he ran his thumb up your slit, gathering your slick that was nearly dripping from your core.

"Want me to ruin your cunt, love? Split you open, fuck you silly, then pump you full. I wonder if a kitty can even get pregnant by a dog. Guess we'll find out…" It seemed your heat was sending him into a semi-rut, his mind was full of nothing but sinking into you and fucking you into the mattress. He had honestly wanted to for weeks but had tried to keep the thoughts away.

"Y-Yeosang! Please!" You mewled, nails digging into his pillow, tail flailing back and forth. You yowled when his strong hand grabbed your tail at the base, wrapping some of the length around his fist, tugging on it. He smirked as your cunt let out another glob of slick from the sensation, your rapid purr growing in strength.

"Not just my wife, but my mate. Want your womb to hold my pups." The male chuckled, adjusting to press the fat head of his leaking cock against your core. You shivered, a bit worried he was too big, but you needed him. And his knot.

"Hold on, kitten." He licked his lips to prevent the saliva that had gathered from leaking, holding the base of your tail and hip for leverage. Your breath hitched, cunt spasming as he started to press in. He watched in delight as your folds eagerly stretched and sucked his cock in, even more slick spilling out, leaving a puddle on his bed. The base of his cock had already started to swell a bit, but he wasn't going to knot you so soon. No, he was going to have his way with you for a good long while first.

"Fuck!" You squealed, claws puncturing his bedding, teeth digging into the pillow. His hot cock was searing through you, the burn of the stretch just fueling the fire in your womb further. Tears sprung to your eyes and you gasped for air, intense waves of pleasure crashing over you, sending you to climax before he was even halfway in. Yeosang felt your gummy walls clench and pulse around him, and he threw his head back, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he groaned. The grip on your tail tightened just a bit and you keened at his slow ease, but his restraint was wavering.

"J-just do it, 'Sang~" You mewled, sparks of arousal shooting up your spine from your tail. He didn't hesitate with your consent, and he snapped his hips to bury the last few inches into your hot vice. Your vision spotted as the head of his dick pressed at your womb, hips pressed to your backside. He sat there for a bit, letting you get used to the searing pleasure, grinding down into you every so often. As he heard your breathing even out a bit more, you let out a big shudder and he released your tail, falling forward so his hands caught him on the bed. The dog let out a small whimper, furrowing his brow. A clawed hand went to your sternum and he helped you hold yourself up on your arms so your back was parallel to his chest. His nose ran over your shoulder, right new to your neck and your body tensed in preparation, your cunt tightening even further. With a little lick, his teeth dug into your skin, and he sucked and licked as he bit, sealing you as his mate. Your eyes rolled back into your head, most of your strength leaving you as you came again, spurts of slick drenching his groin and balls. Pulling back from the mark, he licked the blood away and you fell onto your chest, using what little strength you had left to grip the already torn sheets.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your response, slowly puling his hips back, cock halfway in, then fucked back into you. You yelped, his rapid and hard pace was immediate, no build up, and your brain ended up as fucked as your cunt. You were babbling and mewling, tail thrashing before he gripped it once more, holding your hips still as his battered against your ass. His free hand snaked down to your stomach, and he groaned at the shallow bulge that would form each time he buried to the hilt, your tiny body straining to take him. You bit the pillow again, using it to muffle your scream as he plowed through another one of your orgasms. His thrusts grew shallower, burying deep each time and fucking back in just by an inch, hard and grinding. Your eyes crossed when the base of your core started to burn once more, pussy searing as his knot started to swell. He whimpered between grunts and growls, head thrown back, sweat slick black strands tickling his upper back.

"I'm going to breed you, kitten. Fill you with my seed till you have my pups. Even if it takes all night." He groaned as your cunt fluttered once more and he gave one more hard thrust, letting his knot swell. You gasped and heaved at the feeling; he hadn't even begun to cum yet. When the hot spurts started to fill you, flooding your weeping womb, you nearly passed out. The sticky fluid dowsed the fire that your body had set and his hips jolted with each squirt, pressing as deep as he could. As the waves of his orgasm faded, he let your tail go, falling forward once more, heaving for breath himself. You were breathing heavily, but otherwise quiet and he glanced down to look at your face. You were still conscious, barely, eyes staring blankly at the wall, tears drying on your cheek and drool had left a dark spot under your mouth. Gently, so much so compared to his rough fucking, he pet your hair, pulling a few strands away from your sweaty brow.

"I love you, (Y/N)." He whispered and he noticed your lips quirk gently into a small smile.

"Love you too~"

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[pressureplus]

Hihii! Hope your all doing well

Could you please do human Sebastian Headcannons where it’s his or our birthday and writhed we get him something or we get him something?? My birthday was yesterday n I think this’ll be cute <3

Remember to take breaks <3

-💫

Hi! We're doing good, thank you for asking ❤️ (We get our breaks by taking turns making stuff, so don't worry too much about that)

It's a day late, but happy birthday, Anon! I hope it was a good one!

Birthday Wishes

Pairings: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

Everything has to be perfect. As perfect as it can possibly be from a place like this.

He's made sure to send Y/N out on a supply run he's hoping is going to take quite a while, needing some extra time to prepare for something he's making out to be a big event.

As much as he hates sending his dumb little diver anywhere without either going with them or watching them, he's taken a great deal of caution in getting them supplied and assuring the halls were not active today... Sebastian has well enough ferryman tokens in stock to bribe and barter with should anything happen, worse case scenario.

Shaking his head, he attempts to get rid of those paranoid tendencies so he can finish hanging up the streamers. The bastard fish had been awfully mean to Y/N this morning trying to throw them off so they wouldn't catch any hints for the surprises he's planned. The experiment still is not the best with putting that guard down that's been built up so he can live down here, but he's been trying. Y/N has made him really want to try.

Part of him is still nervous about this, scared that once they get this gift and use it that they'll figure out that they don't want him. He's scared that they'll settle on the thought that they only wanted his company out of desperation, lingering on the idea a bit too long and decide to go find someone else. The anxiety has left his hands shaking a good portion of the morning.

But he has to trust them. They've earned that a few hundred times over for being patient with him for so long.

Sebastian has been preparing for this day for years, and in truth this was for himself at first. This was supposed to be for him. He worked for it, scavenged for it, fought, killed, and lived for it. He's been running this shop for so long it's all he knows anymore and it was always for this.

It wasn't until Y/N came along it stopped being for him and started being for the both of them.

There's even a cake, and though he's still a bit concerned they're not going to like his less than stellar icing designs, he knows it's your favorite flavor so he's sure you won't hate it.

When he decides he's made it up nice enough and that he's brave enough to greet you, he makes his way back to his shop and sits waiting, trying not to mull over his choices, hoping that it will go well.

It doesn't take long, maybe another half hour at most, for his favorite person to stroll back in.

"Sebby! I'm home!" Y/N greets him first, going to set the small crate of goods down near the doorway.

"Took you long enough. Hard run?" He teases, reaching one of those big clawed hands down to ruffle their hair. Smile a little wider and eyes a little brighter, he can't deny he's excited.

"No! It was actually super easy! I didn't find even an ounce of data, though..." Seeming disappointed, they almost go to sulk before he catches them.

"No, no, I have made well enough for the week." He reaches under the desk and pulls out a messily wrapped box.

"Plus, it's your birthday, isn't it?" Sebastian grins.

It takes Y/N a long beat of silence to perk up, eyes sparkling under the outdated LEDs.

"It is! You remembered my birthday?" They snatch the present up and instinctually shake it.

"Ah, don't get too happy about it, I saw it on the calendar." The fishy man tries to play it off for longer, really dragging it out.

"I'd say happy birthday, but could it really be happy in the Blacksite?" He pokes, the snide jab not seeming to bring Y/N down at all.

"It is with you!" They give him a beaming grin and start to open their box.

Nearly choking, Sebastian feels his face heat up a bit and his heart stops in his chest. How is he not supposed to treasure his Y/N? How could anyone think they were anything less than amazing?

"Well, it is a special day nonetheless. You only get this old once." He adjusts his comment to match their mood, still reminding himself to soften up for them.

He's decorated it in their favorite colors, colorful streamers matching all the little things that's going to make it feel like a home.

"You got me a plushy?! Where'd you find one!?" Y/N tugs the stuffed toy out of the box and squeezes it, very clearly resembling their favorite mythical creature.

"Would you believe it was luck?" He chuckles, lying to them point blank. He'd made it by hand, but doesn't want the tears or teasing from you that would come with admitting that.

"Thank you so much, Sebastian! You're the best!" Y/N only continues to shine in the dimly lit shop.

"I've got something else for you. It's in the back." He places a hand on their waist to usher the former prisoner along towards the grand finale.

"Is it really gonna beat the plushie?" They joke and he snickers.

"I'd certainly hope so, it's your party." He uses another of his massive hands to cover your eyes and lead you out past the room, guiding your step up on a completely unfamiliar stair.

"Woah, is this a new room?" Y/N looks confused.

"Yep. It's your room now. We're still going to be sharing, but it's brand new." He hesitates for another few seconds.

Closing his own eyes, he tries to stay calm. Ripping that metaphorical bandaid off, his hands come away from them to let Y/N look around.

And Y/N finds themself in a submarine.

"You... Your deal went through. . ." They look around at the painstaking way he's furnished and decorated it.

"Yep. I got us a way out." He closes the door behind him and Y/N whips around to look at him.

"We're leaving!? WE'RE LEAVING TODAY?!" They look shaken, but more excited than he thinks he's ever seen before in his life.

The fear melts away watching the way they go and cheer, tossing their new plush onto the bed at the back of the vessel and laughing, already chattering about showing him the places they wanna go. If nothing he does ever goes right again his whole life, he's done good doing this.

Sebastian pulls another mischievous look and holds out the keys, barely catching their severely divided attention with the shiny new keyring.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N."

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.71)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Freedom isn't always a good thing... sometimes stupid pups get in trouble.

Tags: slight angst, lying, implied psychopath Jin, Confirmed autistic Jimin, discussion of murder and killing others, Jimin and Jin both have dubious morality, needy m/c, Frottage, Teasing, Knotting, knot-fucking, desperate sex, messiness kink, (slight) pleasure dom hobi 👀, public sex, riding, squirting, car sex

W/c: 15.6k

A/n: it's kinda crazy that this chapter, last chapter, and next chapter was supposed to be a single chapter (it would have been over 30k), this one is my least favorite out of the bunch! please give it a bunch of love when it comes out though 🥺 if you don't love it i'll be sad!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The pack goes back to work the next week, nursing hangovers and hurts and everything in between. Every injury both visible and not.

Hoseok's bruises get covered up by Tae's makeup every morning, color corrector applied in thin layers, and then foundation, and then Pink lipstick kisses over top. Tae's lips, your lips, everyone's lips, pressed to those thankful inches between Hoseok's head and his heart.

It becomes their little ritual- and on the nights that Hobi's nightmares keep him awake- her concealer goes under his eyes too. And his lips get pressed more reverently with kisses. Easing apart his tense pout and his frown like the sun parts petals into bloom. It's sweet, the way that Hoseok surrenders himself so willingly to Tae's doting.

Hoseok doesn't know if he likes the makeup as much as he likes the attention. From both you and her.

There’s barely a morning that you don’t wrap yourself around Hoseok’s back while Tae does his makeup, nuzzling against his nape, sneaking your cold hands under the hem of his sweatshirt. alternating between dragging your throat down the crest of his back so that everyone knows he has an omega to come home to, and sleeping curled between. Staying close to your alpha's (the easy ones, the ones that aren't still mad at you).

Hoseok's not the only one who's still dealing with the aftereffects of what happened. The physical side effects and the mental ones.

Jimin still says up and guards the door most nights too, perched on the edge of the nest listening for anyone or anything that might be coming to hurt you. The protective parts of him fester in the meantime before he heals enough to go back to work. He's got too much time on his hands to wory.

He's only diligent with his physical therapy because you tattle on him to Namjoon when he doesn’t do his exercises. Eager to be good, eager to do anything you can to please the pack alpha.

It hasn’t escaped any of them that you’ve been extra agreeable and extra obedient recently. Eager to please. Eager to make up for what happened. Jimin isn’t bothered by it so much- if only because having something to do seems to make you happy. He’ll gladly tolerate you hounding him.

Especially when you bound up to Namjoon to give him a report when he comes home from work, on the receiving end of a very genuine "good pup, making sure your alphas are careful' from Namjoon. especially on those days when that is the only praise that the pack alpha gives you.

It’s not that Namjoon and Yoongi have been treating you coldly, just that there’s a small distance between the two of them and you. Kisses that would have lasted minutes only last second (or they aren’t initiated at all when it comes to Yoongi). Jimin wishes it didn’t remind him of how Tae treated him after she came out but it does.

Hopefully, like with her, Namjoon and Yoongi just need time.

You ask him about it, midmorning stretched out in Tae’s library room where you both wait for her to finish deciding what dress she’ll torture you both with today. You three have taken to hanging out together here. You and Jimin cuddled up on the couch, doing PT, watching Tictok’s, napping, kissing cuddling. Placing shy touches below the pulled blankets to see how far you can go before Tae notices and stops you both with a disapproving lilt to her eyebrows.

“I said no sex- if you guys are gonna hang out with me while I work- you’ve gotta behave.”

You’d melted below the covers and Jimin had firmly placed his hands back over the covers, noticeably damper than they were the last time Tae saw them.

“Sorry mommy,” recalcitrant enough to avoid a spanking (but maybe that is what you’d wanted- what you’d needed). But getting scolded is part of the fun, teasing, seeing how far you can push each other until you break.

You'd squirmed against Jimin's thigh as she'd gone back to work. clicking away at her keyboard without giving you a second glance. "you're not even going to like, let him finish-" You're whiney. Need and wanting down to your bones, a wanting that is only heightened by the vision Tae strikes today; the peachy set of silky bloomers and ruffled top that shows off the little bit of cleavage she has now.

She'd just leaned over the back of her chair and eyed you up and down. "No, if you want to distract me from my book you can suffer pup."

You'd whined and Jimin had hid his laugh in your shoulder. "No buts pup. Maybe later, If you're good, then you can bounce on Jiminie's knot all pretty for me."

"Yes Mommy." But you hadn't ended up doing any of that. You'd fallen asleep curled up around Jiminie (whose hands had unfortunately remained on his phone and above the covers), to the others already awake and at home and would you please help water the plants with Hoseokie pup? You know he doesn't always notice when they overflow.

It’s been harder for you to ask for things since the day you almost ran away. A wanting that can't be sated by simple touches and kisses simmering low in your stomach. Burning through you at strange moments.

Like another moment when you and Jimin are in the library room again. Tae is reorganizing and fussing. What you'd call nesting if she was an omega. The desk is on the opposite wall today. it's Cramped, it won't stay like this for long. The couch moved below the bay window.

You watch Jimin's face as he looks out that window, at the way that the wind tears at the trees around your house, makes them bob and creek, showing the silvery underside of their leaves.

It’s easier for you to Jimin all sorts of questions because he’s not mad at you. (Sometimes you feel like he's the only one who's not mad at you for what you did.)

“Have you thought about how you’ll do it yet?”  

The paranoid bits stretch out and teem. The worst part of Jimin have festered in the meantime. Maybe he'd be less restless if he had something to do but the danger has passed now.

Moonbyul seems like she’s truly gone, you’ve heard neither hide nor hair from her- absolutely nothing since the day that she left. No one from the family has tried to contact Yoongi. Even Jin’s unceremonious exit from the FBI had gone without struggle or suspicion.

Jimin had just continued to watch the window, the spring raindrops drifting down the pain of glass all slow. “Thought about how I’d do what?”

You’d raised your eyebrow at him, and thankfully Tae had come in and disrupted whatever conversation you might have had about murders that might need doing. Twirling in the doorway and showing off her slinky dark green lingerie for you and tae to oooh and ahhh at. Your questions forgotten.

Sleeping bears don’t do well when they’re poked. Jimin knows that. The others know that. It might seem pity as far as retribution goes (Jimin still gets angry when he sees the bruises on Hobi’s throat or watches Namjoon examine the scars that crisscross your hands, red and angry. Or the nights that tae twitches in her sleep).

Maybe the best retribution is to live like this- free and unincumbered by anything like revenge. Revenge is also a burden. Revenge means you still care about what happened to you, that it still hurts, that you're still bleeding. Jimin doesn't know if he wants to be bleeding anymore. His alpha that hungers for blood and pain wars with what Jimin knows will logically help the pack more.

But Jimin’s not the only one who's feeling a little paranoid. A little unfulfilled.

The pack instills a buddy system for those who go to work still and for any excursions outside the house. No one goes anywhere alone. Jin starts driving Namjoon to work every morning and picking him up every evening. With kisses and coffee and snacks, especially on the days that Namjoon has long surgeries and he comes home exhausted. Jin like Jimin is trying his hardest not to be too idle. He turns in his sparkly FBI badge and his weapon the first day he's sober enough to drive. 

Your recipe book and an audio file of Jimin's, yours, and Yoongi's 'interviews' where you explain everything gets locked in a safe that Jin knows the code to. Gets built into the wall in the basement and plastered over. It’s an afterthought, something just in case (you’ll never need it).

There are a lot of other things for Jin to fixate on now. Not everything is good.   

It’s a difficult conversation that Jin doesn’t want to have. Especially not with the pups. This is a conversation that’s too big, too stressful, too much for you to handle- that Jin is certain of.

You certainly look very pupish this morning, still dressed in the matching pink pj’s that Jin left out for you last night, you’d firmly followed his showering instructions not to scrub too hard and even let him button you into them and brush your hair (something you don’t always let Jin do, sometimes you ask for your mommy to do it instead and Tae takes that pleasure from Jin’s fingers with a feral smile).

Your body perfectly moisturized and taken care of, skin glowing and supple and healthy under Jin's inspectory touches. A perfectly obedient pup. So so good it had Jin purring and scenting you so thoroughly you’d gone sweet and dizzy and dependent.

But for once, for this morning, Jin feels like he's dependent on you.

The whole pack will be dependent on you financially. If you decide what Jin thinks you’ll choose.

Jin looks at you across the table (small, yawning, still sleepy, tipping into namjoon and clearly itching for an alpha and a nest) and can’t help but wonder if this conversation, this ask, is best left for later. After having so many difficult conversations in such a short period of time he's lost his taste for them.

Without Jin earning an income right now, the pack’s finances aren’t quite as orderly as they could be. As they should be. Hoseok, Jungkook, and Namjoon are the only ones working now, and Jimin won’t be bringing nearly as much in as he was before- something Jin knows the pup is worried about- he’d even asked if he should get a second job. Having any of his pups overworked is something Jin can’t handle.

And Namjoon is already overworked. Namjoon confessed a little thoughtlessly a few days ago after his first big surgery back- that it’s a good thing he hadn’t quit his job yet. He might not quit it at all now with the pack in limbo. That had been your last straw, and you’d asked Jin if there was anything you could do to help.

That’s a lie- you knew there was something you could do. Sitting in that little file that Moonbyul had dropped off with Hobi’s car all those months ago. The things you’d inherited from Geumjae’s estate as his late wife. The beach house abroad, the apartment in Miami, and the brownstone that had housed his final moments in a city far far away that you don’t ever want to return to.

What other use can it serve?

Yoongi had used most of his Geumjae’s life insurance payout to buy the house and renovate it. And you’ve been living off the leftovers since then, but even that sum won't last forever.

It's a good thing property in Manhattan never depreciates in value.

“This is a lot of money, and I’d understand if you didn’t want to-”

You roll your eyes at Jin, crossing your arms bratty, if Jin were less stressed he might be inclined to take you over his lap for that one. But he wants all of your faculties on board right now. Big financial decisions and omegaspace do not mix well.

Jin is to anxious about this to want to make you submit. Too worried about pushing you too far, asking you for something you might not want to give and overstepping. The clothes and doting are easier- Jin knows exactly how to take care of you that way. He knows exactly what you want when it comes to that.

“Jin, I do not give a shit, like honestly.”

Namjoon is wordless between the two of you, massaging down your and Jin’s necks to soothe you. You don’t understand why he’s pussyfooting around it. What Geumjae has left you and trying to find something to do with it, some way to help the pack, isn't something you're nervous or unsure about. Not even a little bit.

You don’t mind, you really don’t mind. If it helps them stay fat and happy, they can take all of it.

His eyes go softer, less cagey. You lean forward at the kitchen table. Reaching for his hand. He lets you take it. “Jin, just say it-” Jin bites his lip and throws the pen onto the table with a clatter.

“If you sell the house in New York City and put even like 1/3 of it into a trust. The pack would be set for the rest of our lives off the interest alone. Even more if we go the private equity route. Even our kids could-”

Tae calls from the library room, leaning back in her chair to shout through the open door. Clearly listening in on your conversation. “I am not raising trust fund pups hyung!”

Namjoon barks a laugh, “no one is talking about pups yet Tae” he strokes down the nape of Jin’s neck gently, delicately. And you know he’s fixated on the idea of /////yet and when that yet will become soon.

Jin's not getting any younger. Although you and Jungkook are still firmly in your 20's. Jin's going to have to make some big life decisions soon. Not this year and not the next. But the year after definitely.

It’s hard for Jin, to balance what he knows is logically here on the table and what is best for you. He's not sure that he'd make the same choice- the decision to support a pack that you have not known for a calendar year yet (although the anniversary of Jimin finding Yoongi again is sneaking up on you. You’ll have to figure out a day that you want as your anniversary.)

To make decisions with them in mind seems a little…illogical. From a practical perspective. Jin has had these sentiments shoved down his throat since he was a pup. all omega's have.

Don't mate someone until you've known them for a year, don't move in together until you've dated someone for 6 months, and certainly don't combine finances if you don’t like the shape of an alpha’s knot. be a strong independant omega!

You reach for your water and namjoon grabs it for you, holding it so that you can suck at the draw. putting it at the other end of the table to that you don't risk spilling it. wiping the moisture off the corner of your lip when he's done.

Jin huffs. Independance is never something you've wanted- clearly.

All said and done It’s an easy decision for you. Giving them space and time to heal after what you’ve brought down on them and a bit of financial freedom on top of your newfound physical freedom.

You don’t put 1/3 of it into a trust, you end up putting all of it after some discussion.

Jin handles everything involved with selling the brownstone. From contacting a broker to verifying through lawyers that still hold ownership over the property and getting everything notarized. He does all the legwork of opening up a fucking trust to put the frankly insane amount of money that the brownstone goes for in it. Your name on it because namjoon had insisted, and then the pack alpha and omega.

You’re incredibly thankful that you don’t have to go back to the city (especially since you hated it so much in winter and wet springs.) You don’t even bother going back there to get some of your things. You know it probably accumulated dust in the year since you’ve been there. Jin even contacts an estate sale company that sells all of your and Geumjae’s things.

Jin has spent most of his newly gotten free time doing exactly what he’s always done; taking care of his pups.

He’s got interviews with a therapist tomorrow for Hobi (this one has had a very cohesive background check done on him, Jin has learned his lesson). And there's a nail appointment on the books scheduled for Tae today, her hair appointment and facial 2 days from now. A doctor appointment for you and Jungkook the day after. A time slot for Hoseok’s car to get a tune-up later this week (after Jimin’s reckless driving it’s been running a little rough). And the final check-up with Jimin’s surgeon the day after.

You don't know how you'd keep everyone's appointment straight, but maybe that's why jin is the pack omega and you're not. Everything is where it should be. Jin rather enjoys it too.

Namjoon’s scrubs get steamed and hung up before he leaves for work every day, a lunch packed with cute heart-cut strawberries and carefully arranged rice and slices of chicken. Nesting materials warmed in the dryer before you and Jimin and Tae settle in for your mornings of undisturbed library time. Jungkook’s workout clothes color color-coordinated and his long hair brushed shiny and curly with a pat to his bum out the door.

Jin only realizes he might be going a little overboard when he starts a chart to monitor the pack's water consumption. You pressed along his spine trying to rub away your name on the little whiteboard. "If you make me drink that much water I'm gonna have to pee like all the time-"

"Careful," Yoongi had teased, voice rough and gravely from disuse. "You might make Jin want to keep track of that too."

Jin had hummed considering it genuinely, and you and Jimin had jumped up to drag him on to other things in the house before he got any ideas.

Jin spent the rest of this particular morning helping Tae do her hair. Jin’s pups need to look their best at all times. She curled the front, and Jin curled the back so that she didn't have to stretch her poor little arms. A kiss pressed to her knuckles and a "let Jinnie do it my pretty pup" sounded persuasive enough.  

Everyone is pup to Jin right now. In his element. Playacting as the perfect house omega.

Jin and Jimin do their assessment while you, Tae, and Yoongi are at the nail salon.

It's a Wednesday and a few days before he goes back to work from injury leave. Although Jimin enjoyed the first week of lounging with you and Tae in the library room watching her write her story (and get predictably nothing done with you and him there to tempt her) now Jimin has gotten too antsy to settle. Going to the gym with Jungkook yesterday helped a little.

It’s the last snow for the season and the big fluffy flakes hit the window with a faint clink. Jin and Jimin have a few hours of privacy to get this done; the psychopathy assessment that Jimin had asked after the other day, drunk and on the floor of the kitchen bellies full of your sweets.

Jin should probably manage the packs sugar intake too.

His pack omega instincts are settled in a way they aren’t usually now sitting here with Jimin in the spare bedroom (a room that will one day become the pack’s nursery and pup nesting room. But Jin doesn’t know that yet).

Jimin lounges on the window seat and stares up at the sky while he talks and answers Jin’s questions. Jin sits, legs crossed in a big blue velvet chair that you and Hobi found on one of your thrifting walks the other day.

You’ve been going on more of those- walks with Jungkook and Hobi around the neighborhood when the weather is nice. to see the flowers- the daffodils and snowdrops and magnolias starting to bud. You stumbled into an estate sale last week where you bought all sorts of things including the velvet chair and an old rug that yoongi had sighed over and then relented, dragging it off to the basment to work on restoring it.

Jin knows you're working up to attending classes at Jungkook’s gym (you have an open invitation from Wonho). Jin will never not be proud of you, that you seem to be at least trying to get healthier and be more active.

He lounges with a notepad and a few printouts in front of him. A copy of the DSM-five is under the chair just in case he needs to reference it. His silk dressings gown is yellow and green striped with blue and pink floral decals on the shoulders. A tad more eccentric than Jin usually goes because this silk robe used to belong to Tae before she switched to pink everything, folded over his striped pajamas and fuzzy slippers. Pink, also Tae's.

It’s easier for Jimin to do this if he doesn’t have to stare at Jin's face, dewy underneath the thick-rimmed glasses. Jin has had more time to devote to his grooming now that he’s unemployed.

Jin listens, and Jimin talks for what feels like hours. laid out in his most comfy sweats set, also cleaned and pressed by Jin earlier (do sweatpants even need to be ironed?) This one is rough in all the right places, worn familiar from years of wear. Jin doesn't even know where Jimin got it- he checked but the tag had already been cut out, probably years ago.

It's strange, how easy it is to ignore things until you connect the dots.

He sits up towards the end looking at Jin and fiddling with the new earrings in his ears. Teasing at the loose cool chain with the tips of his fingers like noodle bats at the tassels on the edge of the curtain in Tae's library room. It's an absentminded action- Jimin's body is too loud for his mind to think of should and shouldn’t’s.

You've warned him time and time again that if he plays with the fresh piercings too much, they might get infected. Namjoon has done his best to dot disinfectant whenever he gets home and, in the morning, too sometimes.

But Jimin always always fiddles. He can't help it. Small bits of paper, the ends of his hoodie that somehow always end up in his mouth. Tae's hands, the soft little ends of Tae's hair, Tae's jewelry, Tae’s everything. It’s weird to see Jimin talking if he’s not fiddling with something.

He’s nervous, so he fiddles. Jin has notes and a completed screening form in front of him. Looking at Jimin now with fresh eyes Jin doesn’t know how he never noticed. How he never put it together.

The psychopathy assessment below taunts Jin.

Failure to conform to social norms concerning lawful behaviors, such as performing acts that are grounds for arrest. Deceitfulness, repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for pleasure or personal profit. Lack of remorse, being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another person

"And did it bother you? When you killed those people?"

"Those bad people hyung," Jimin corrects, and Jin can't help his smile.

"Did it bother you when you killed the bad people, Minnie?"

Jimin fiddles, quiet, like he doesn’t want to admit it. "Only when it got messy."

"Why do you think the mess bothered you?" Jin’s asking half because he wants to know, and half because he’s genuinely curious.

Jimin’s hands rub up and down his knees and he shifts forward than backward. But his words come out even and measured. "Because it wasn't the way it was supposed to go- the way I organize it in my head, the same way you probably think through what clothes will make Namjoonie hyung blush the most. It didn't happen the way it should have."

Monsters aren't supposed to bleed.

"The only way I don't get overwhelmed by things is whey I make sure they happen they way they should."

"What does it feel like when you get overwhelmed minnie?"

"It's like- fear I think? My chest gets really tight, and everything gets extra extra loud. It makes my alpha like- riled. And I have to remind myself that I don't need to get angry about it."

They move on to other topics, different than Jimin’s apparent lack of remorse (it's not lack of remorse, but conditional remorse. Jimin only feels within the firm lines of what he believes he should feel) But they circle back to it because Jimin uses the words ‘bad people’ more than once.

"Why do you think that they needed to be bad to kill them? Why does if they were bad matter to you so much?"

"Because that’s the rule- bad people are supposed to die, aren’t they?" Jin cannot fault Jimin for that- because it is the rule. Generally. You do not Mourne monsters. You do not Mourne the villains.

"I'm not so sure about that, plenty of bad people never get punished."

"Like Moonbyul and me you mean?" Jin almost breaks the pen he's holding, almost.

"Do you believe that you're a bad person Minnie?"

Jimin bites his lips, looking down and away, not fidgeting at all. But his teeth work away at his lip. It takes a second for him to gather his words, a second to respond. Jimin has always been hard to read.

"I was hoping you would tell me. I can’t ask Tae. She wouldn’t be able to tell me the truth."

No, Jin always noticed. He just didn’t think of it beyond late-night musings wrapped in Namjoon’s arms. Gossiping about their pack because If there’s one thing that the pack omega and pack alpha like to talk about- it’s their 6 pups. They used to gossip about you the most that way- but Namjoon has been resistant to discuss you recently and Jin doesn't have to ask why.

He sees the conflict and love in his soulmate as easily as he sees the diagnosis written out on the paper right now. He'll check the DSM later for autism spectrum disorder but he won't find anything that varies from his notes.

Uses only limited facial expressions to communicate, frequently flicking switches or spinning objects, speaking in a repetitive way, narrow or intense interests, having trouble with changes to their schedule or changing from one activity to another, and hyper-reactivity to sensory input.

Sometimes talking about things too seriously does more damage. Jin keeps that particular diagnosis to himself.

Jimin looks at him imploringly, not reaching out to touch, because maybe Jimin is a little too overstimulated right now from bearing his heart to initiate contact. His eyes are bright and hopeful. They are not glassy and vacant. Jin has looked at countless pictures of psychopaths before- and none of them have eyes quite like Jimin's

They’ve been at it for 4 hours already, Jin has gotten up twice to pee when Jimin sits up without the intention of lying back down.

"So, what do you think hyung? Am I crazy? Am I a psychopath?"

I think you're a whole lot of things Minnie. Autistic for one with a hyper fixation on the people you love, Tae in particular.

Jin winces, looking Jimin up and down, and the alpha flushes but stays still under Jin’s evaluation. His sensory issues are painfully on display in an extra big sweatshirt, the ends of his sweatshirt pulled loose so that they're not tight around his wrists. His hips, baggy pants, and slides. Jimin’s toes flex, like he can’t help but push at the one item of clothing that constrains him.

He never has the same problem with the neat dark suits that his bodyguard job makes him wear. When Jimin knows what's expected of him- he doesn't have a problem following the rules or lying.

Bad people die. That's the rule, isn't it? Jin has a tallied kill count on the corner of the page, every time Jimin references a different murder over the last 5 hours, Jin has added a tally.

He's run out of room on the notepad.

Jin will bring it up to him later. Will tell him later, to be sure. Jimin asks after something much scarier, much more dangerous to his pack right now. Jin will do anything he needs to do to protect his pack- and that's part of the problem.

There are things that Jimin doesn’t need to know.

Jin covers that evaluation with his fingers. Only a few words are viewable between the narrow edges of his long fingers.

A peculiar lack of empathy, but not a lack of anxiety. An ability to distinguish between right and wrong but not an inherent understanding of those concepts. A tendency to lie. But is that really so scandalous? So damning? Is lying not a necessity and an instinct when the truth can do so much damage? Would Jin blame anyone for lying about these things?

“I do think that psychopaths don’t wonder if they’re psychopaths Jimin. Asking these questions of yourself isn’t a bad thing. If you were crazy, I’m not sure you’d care to be here.” And you’d be trying to convince me too.

Jin stands up and walks over to Jimin the one or two steps. Leaving his notepad behind to cup Jimin’s cheek, running his thumb along the alpha’s plush lips. Jimin’s eyes are wide and glassy, unable to tear themselves away from Jin. Jin’s omega wants to purr at the show of devotion, at the sight of Jimin below him almost on his knees. Jimin places a gentle palm on Jin’s thigh, Just to feel.

"I don't think you're crazy Jimin, I just think you're an alpha who will do anything for the people you love." Is it lying if he believes it to be the truth?

"And there's nothing wrong with that?" Jimin asks, Jimin’s hand fiddled with the tasseled end of Jin’s dressing gown with a delightful shiver of sensory pleasure.

Jin leans down and presses his lips to the alpha’s brow. Jimin almost sags against Jin’s front.

"There's nothing wrong with that at all. Come with Jinnie. It's well past time for lunch, and I won't be able to stand it if my pups are left unfed."

~-~

Jin spends his days gloriously unemployed putting the pack back together piece by treasured piece. But that’s not the only thing that needs his healing touch.

He spends most of his time helping Yoongi restore the house to its former glory. Switching out crown molding and cracked wall sconces. He rarely ever changes out of his matching pajamas and matching pink sweat sets even if they get speckled with dust and wood stain and eventually paint. He thoroughly enjoys sitting elbow to elbow with Yoongi and just- living. Just existing next to the beta without any thoughts or secrets between them.

They don’t talk much, sometimes Yoongi plays music, and sometimes he picks the paint splatters out of Jin’s hair, or the splinters out from his fingers oh so gently. Yoongi’s been quieter since everything went down- if that even seems possible. Less likely to joke, the smiles when Jin puts his paint-splattered hands-on Yoongi’s ass don’t last quite so long.

But unlike with Jimin, any words of wisdom and questions aren’t met receptively; Yoongi just walks away. And Jin knows he’s not ready to talk about it yet. Jin worries that your and his relationship is only part of the problem.

It’s a good thing Yoongi’s fairly organized and has kept all the paint buckets in the coat closet under the stairs. He teaches Jin how to fill the bullet holes in the banister with wood filler and sand it down. The muddy stain sits until they can hardly tell. After a few days of their hard work, it feels like the last few weeks are just a bad memory.

He spends his afternoons polishing away the bullet holes in the antique doorframes, re-spackling the parts of the wall you crashed into that got indented. Every little fleck of blood that leaves even the barest hint of a stain against the ceiling. The drywall cut out and replaced in certain spots. They spend it in companionable silence and Jin tells himself that staying by Yoongi’s side is enough.

Now that the pack knows that they’re not going to be discovered right away there is time to take care of the evidence beyond just bleach and cleaner. The cops haven’t come to their door even once. Not even a noise complaint from your days of revelry.

They're meticulous in the way that they check over every inch of the house. Jin goes over everything with luminol and a blacklight just to be sure. The bights of Yoongi’s eyes extra white as he watches. But no one is better at covering up a murder than them. (If they had a mind for it, they might have a handy side business. Jin jokes, but Yoongi just huffs and doesn't dignify it with a response.)

They dig up the body later.

They make sure everyone else is out of the house. Tae’s hair appointment serves several purposes beyond making sure the pack's prettiest alpha feels her best. Tae goes a little lighter- blonder, less red, and more chestnut. Long and brushing past her shoulders now. Perfect for the spring that hovers on the edge of every breath of warm air.

It won’t be long now. The daffodils are already coming up in places in the front yard. Yellow and bright and happy.

They put the man in a metal bucket, fraying clothes and all. Jimin and Jin mix up the chemicals wearing full hazmat suits. Lye bubbles and burns and leaves little left of the man other than some errant buttons that must have been on his pants and a twisted mess of a zipper.

Jin and Jimin toss them into the fireplace upstairs before anyone gets home, watching as they bubble and burn and disappear like a bad memory. The assassin and lye slurry gets poured down the drain, and carried out to the ocean to find rest- no longer haunting you. Yoongi mixes up more concrete and pours the hole and it’s like it never happened, like Tae and you never murdered that man.

When the pack gets home Jin has picked a few daffodils, put them on the kitchen table, and opened up all the windows. Tae twirls when Jimin asks to show him her hair. The way it falls in pretty ringlets.

"Beautiful"

“Fumigation” Jin will tell their neighbors when they ask about the smell. the subtly tangy chemicals that fill the culdisac. "You know our cat, the angry one, brought a whole punch of pests in. You might want to test your basement too."

Jin is the best liar in the pack for a reason.  

You come home laden with bags and just cuz gifts. You’d gotten your hair trimmed and Jungkook too- tight on the sides and long on the top. Jungkook’s bought new star-shaped pillows to go with the light blue couch and Namjoon brings home a pink moon one for you. A stuffed animal one with floppy feet and a tastefully neutral expression that you clutch to your chest during movie nights.

On nights like tonight, when it's so quiet that you need something soft to hold onto- least you remember other deceptively quiet nights.

The rain outside has lulled to a gentle pitter patter and the pack is likewise lulled to a similarly gentle sleep. Moving this way and that, settling like the bones of the house that creek with every harsh gust of wind. Asleep around you in heaps.

You nested earlier with Jin and Jungkook- fluffed every pillow and folded every blanket. It’s not quite as fluffy as your old couch but it is bigger, large enough to accommodate everyone lying this way and that. Jin purrs are sleep deep and soft. Almost pearly in the nighttime.

It's so quiet.

Your hair catches the highlights of the TV screen when it bursts bright and colorful. Hobi twirls a lock of your hair around his fingers while the movie drones on. Animated this time- because none of you have had the stomach for any movie that features too much violence. Nothing lifelike yet. You’ll stick to familiar fantasies in the meantime.

You're curled on your side and stretched out, your feet in Namjoon's lap. The top of your head so close to Hobi's thigh that you can feel the warmth of it along the top of your head. You're not touching him. But his warmth and safe alpha musk is close and thick. More satisfying to your nesting instincts than any blanket, to have your alpha nearby and alert.

Not that you're not welcome, Noodle occupied that spot until recently. Yawning and slinking off with a jingle of his bell collar once Hobi alternated from petting him to petting you.

He twirls a lock of your hair around his finger and watches the movie.

It’s a movie that you've seen before. It's familiar backtrack the perfect thing to fall asleep to here. The room is dark. The blue-red then pink light of the television flashes with scenes. Sounds too far away as your eyes get heavier and heavier. You're not the only one who's clearly feeling the effects of the nighttime or the smooth unaffected happy scents of your packmates.

Tae in particular smells rich and flowery, happy sprawled out between Jungkook and Jimin and Yoongi. Jimin’s hand sits under the hem of her white tank top, the translucent lace edge hides the movements of his fingers as he strokes up and over her hip lazily. Your mate's face is hidden in her hair, and Jungkook is belly down draped over their legs. Your mate's long fingers rest still against his spine. His shirt pulled up to the small of his back. His small huffs are infrequent and gentle. Like a puppy twitching in their sleep.

Namjoon's loud snore punctuates the quiet from the other side of the couch, his head tipped back against the cushions at an uncomfortable angle. Lost to the world like Jinnie tucked small into his side. His cheek fluffy and resting against the hollow of the pack alpha’s throat. Nose tucked to the safest place in existence.

Well, maybe the second safest. Hoseok’s lap is empty afterall.

You never would have said that Jin was skinny or waifish before, but after quitting his job it’s clear that the stress was affecting him. He looks healthier now. Less sallow-skinned and the space under his eyes is less hollow. Jungkook too has a pink glow to his cheeks- although that might just be where he’s rubbed it raw over Tae’s tight And Jimin’s side. He’s half asleep while he scents them. He mumbles and grumbles something like a purr before he goes quiet and still. 

Even Yoongi at the end of the couch, has his eyes closed, although you can tell they’re moving under his eyelids, his breath coming out with little huffs that tease the top of Jimin’s hair, sock feet stretched out. You close your eyes and open them, eyes drawn to yoongi at first sight. he's always the first person you look for when you open your eyes.

Only to see Noodle purring from his lap. Your and Hobi's company abandoned in favor of his new favorite person.

“Traitor,” you mumble. Hobi laughs quietly.

"We should take his treats until he comes back to us."

"Noodle? or Yoongi?"

"Both." you giggle and turn onto your side.

His fingernails itch down the back of your neck, not a scruff but close and you turn till you're belly down on the couch so that he has a better vantage point to play with your hair. Your eyes flutter, and when they open again Hobi is still staring at the screen. You're the only two awake and half his face is colored green from the movie.

When you look at the screen- Howl and Sophie are traipsing across flower-filled fields. colorful and bright.

"We should find a place like that, when spring really starts up in a few weeks."

Hoseok's eyes are dark and reflective when he looks down at you, huffing fondly, teasing, "are you asking me out on a date?"

"Maybe. You gonna say yes if I am?"

"Maybe." He teases, and you reach up to pinch his thigh, he takes your hand before you can and holds it, pinning it up there on his thigh. You tangle your hand with his pant leg and leave it there. He goes back to watching the movie and you go back to watching him. Quiet and peaceful in the silence of gentle nighttime

“It always bothered me” Hobi knows you’re watching him. Even without looking down. Yoongi's other hand rests on the back of his neck, you see his slack fingers twitch when he looks at you.

“What?”

“He didn’t use real flower types when he animated this- they sort of look like cow vetch- but they’re not.”

You snort, rubbing your eye, “only you would complain about the flowers in Howls Moving Castle.”

Hobi huffs, his fingers trailing over your forehead gently, smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. Hand sliding to your shoulder under your arm.

"Come here, I don't bite." You go with little protest. You let him usher you up onto your knees, scooting across the couch until your head and most of your body is sitting in his lap. Laying your heavy body down. You tuck your legs to the side and someone else other than Namjoon snores but it doesn’t matter who. The eight of you tangled here.

"We should wake everyone up and go upstairs."

"Leave them for a minute. This is my favorite part."

He hesitates, looking down at you, then slowly, like his hand can feel the weight of the gesture, he draws your hair away from your face, the pads of his fingers brushing the corner where your ear becomes your jaw, his pulse by your ear visible in every little tremble. You breathe, and Hobi touches your neck, just mindless circles, eyes eventually drawn back to the TV.

“This place is gorgeous Howl! it’s like a dream.”

You swallow, and you suddenly feel more awake than you have in years, in months. It's frightening the sudden clarity at which you are aware of him- of everything. The softness of his faintly calloused hands, the feeling of his flannel pj's rough under your cheek. The smell of the peach-scented body wash he must have used in the shower earlier. Everything about him in frightening clarity.

You like the way he's touching you, over your cheek and down your throat. None of you doesn't like it. None of you is afraid of what Hoseok might do next. You're not even thinking about it. An alpha has his hands on your neck and you feel-

You feel perfectly at ease, perfectly happy, perfectly in love.

It's like you've been sleepwalking this whole time, or maybe that your soul has taken a vacation, forsaken your body for greener pastures, and then snapped back to this moment right now. Your belly feels full of almost there laughter. You're tired but you're not exhausted. Your shoulders don’t even ache. There isn’t a lump in your throat.

Your breath is so smooth and so easy when you exhale and inhale. You can breathe.

Hobi’s face flashes blue, then the brightest chartreuse. His hand finds the popcorn bowl, and part of it misses, hitting somewhere in your hair but you don’t care at all. You look up at him, watching. Chest going all tight again- your body is fighting it, whatever this feeling is. You're simultaneously more awake than you've ever been and suddenly- not sure if you're not sleeping.

His wrist is over your nose and you nuzzle into it as he reaches for another handful of popcorn, fighting back tears. even as one curl falls from his overful fist and hits your face.

He mindlessly picks the popcorn out of your hair, eating it anyway (at least Jungkook didn't put too much butter in it) He doesn't realize that something is very wrong yet (that something is very very right).

“Sorry.”

“S’fine”

Hobi goes back to watching the movie and you wait a few more minutes, a few more seconds fighting back tears, before you disturb the quiet again. 

"Hobi," Your voice is quiet and scratching. He doesn't hear you over the movie. Not at first.

Your heart is so thick in your throat and you stretch out. Your body is truly lax for what feels like the first time in ages. Not a bit of tension in your muscles. Your head doesn’t feel so heavy, and that vaguely sick feeling that’s always sort of in your stomach is gone. You breathe and it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t feel tight. It’s easy.

Namjoon mumbles near your feet. And Jimin lies Tae down more properly, disturbing Yoongi a little, Noodle hops off his lap and slinks off into the darkness, and everyone re-settles. Everything is slow and simple.

And safe.

Your hand goes vicelike on Hobi’s wrist and he looks down at you, inhaling sharply. There is no hatred in his face, though there hasn't been in months. There is nothing in his eyes besides the most blush pink love, a love that speaks of roses and bumblebees and butterflies- every other small flying thing that has nurtured the world to life. The panic is immediate. This is not a feeling that you are used to. This is not a feeling that you remember.

You don't remember the last time you felt safe.

"I feel- Hobi I feel safe. I feel so safe right now- Hobi- I can't-" 

You’re frantic with the knowledge of it, words rushed and a little panicked, you’ve forgotten this feeling, how complete and peaceful it is. Peaceful and yet panicked because this is not a feeling that you're used to.

The knowledge thrums through you, the relief choking you with its pretty purple vines. His hands go ridged in your hair, knotting a little before they smooth it out. Your scent- it's not unhappy, but it is pungent. Hobi curls his body over you, bowing to protect it from any unseen threat. He would protect you from anything that came through the front door. Anyone.

He smiles down at you gently, petting your throat, down the side of your body. Oh so gentle. "I know it's- it's good, right? It's okay. Right?"

"Yeah- it's okay, it’s-"

And it is okay. More than okay. It’s okay even when the tears form at the corner of your eyes and find their death in Hobi’s lips as he leans lower to kiss them away so softly you hardly feel it. He knows what this is. He’s happy to hold you through it, the first time your body has let go. Relinquished the tightness and control of being on edge. That little thing that makes prey animals prey animals. The part of you that has always been more animal than human, more fight and flight than fawn.

But you're safe now, all the hard things are over. all the hard things aren't heavy anymore because you're safe. Here in Hobi's lap, here in the house that Yoongi made for you all. You're safe.

It’s a feeling you can’t explain. Like why the snow smells clean and why the air smells like a memory sometimes. Safety is one of those intangible things, you know when it’s here and when it’s gone.

He only hopes that this time, it’s here to stay.

You feel safe in his arms, and you feel safe when minutes later Namjoon wakes from a particularly loud snore. You're asleep finally, but your name is the first on his lips.

Namjoon smacks his lips, scenting the distress on the air without opening his eyes. “Pups? What’s wrong?"

Hobi smiles at Joon, his half-asleep pack alpha brain running paces while his instincts have gone miles. "It's okay Joon, she's just happy, go back to sleep."

"Okay, love you," the pack alpha grumbles out. Curling back over Jin’s body with his, all but pinning the pack omega to the couch. Jin just purrs louder.

"Love you too Joonie." Hobi looks down at you, holding you in his lap, and thinks. Yeah, we're both gonna be safe, aren't we?

(When you wake in the morning, you’re back in the nest upstairs. You smell like Hobi and Yoongi and You don’t remember being carried there at all; you just remember the comfort.)

~-~

You do not spend the next week helping Yoongi and Jin fix the house. you spend the next week baking.

Luckily the kitchen escaped most of the damage in your gunfight. Everything is unharmed except for a small spot by the coffee station where a bullet lodged itself in the drywall and one spot in the blue tile backsplash that needs re-doing.

Yoongi waits for that last, hovering, watching you hum along to the music and scoop out things into little trays. Onto the baking pans, you do not catch him watching. But when a glass breaks, he's there waiting with a dustpan to sweep it up.

He doesn't manage to protect you against every hurt however. there are some things that you just can't anticipate.

You go through every recipe you’ve ever made, honey cakes and macarons that take several tries to get right. Pretty Raspberry Charlottes with meticulously arranged raspberries and ladyfingers. Chocolate cookies with crackly tops. Red bean buns and pineapple cakes.

You make everything in your cookbook once and then again. Tweaking the recipes and adjusting them to copy them over into a new recipie book that Hoseok gets you.

(It's not a courting present, it's not- he swears)

(It's totally a courting present)

The book has a thick pink cover, a snap-in binding so that you can take pages in and out at will. And a small pink tulip on the front cover that quickly gets stained with butter, lemon juice, and a tiny tiny bit of blood.

“You need to be more careful.” yoongi says, in his pj’s. hair all spiky from where jin gave it a fresh cut in the kitchen last night. Short enough that it makes his cheeks look all chubby. A band-aid in his hands. You’re pretty sure there’s still a little bit of his hair on the kitchen floor, but you’ve never been one to complain about that sort of thing so you let it slide. you let namjoon wrap your finger with the bandaid with a small whine.

"I was being careful- I just-"

“I was watching her hyung,” Jimin says, a little fluffy, a little ruffled. His headphones pulsing dully around his throat. You read between the lines with that and make no comment. I was watching her hyung, I know she didn’t do it on purpose.

You got him a pair of nice over-the-ear headphones last week and picked them out with Hobi’s help. They’re the kind that makes everything- even the most grating hum – ease away into silence. Your gift has helped a lot more than any of them anticipated when you’d first set out on your “let's figure out what makes Jimin have grumpy pup time” Adventure.

Some things had been easy, and routine. No microfiber, no oily foods. other things are less anticipated- his leg hair. A trigger he didn’t even know he had. Discovered after he watched Tae shave in the bathroom, the air all hot, the sudsy pool of water foaming pink as Tae filled it up and sat on the edge. Jimin's heavy eyes followed her as he asked why she does it, why you do it too.

"Wow It's like- really smooth."

"Can I try?"

"Are you sure you don't just want to feel?"

"I'm sure."

Tae had shaved him, oh so gently, gripping around the back of his knees. and Jimin hadn't realized, hadn't known what kind of effect it had on him until he was sitting in the nest in utter bliss a solid hour afterward. Rubbing his legs together like a cricket, absolutely lost to the sensation of skin on skin and no tugging.

"Can you do it tomorrow? Please? I wanna feel like this every day," a relaxed laugh warping his words. "Wow leg hair like totally sucks- I didn't know I didn't- I didn't know at all, I didn't realize-"

There are so many things you don't realize that hurt. You and Tae hand cuddled up close to him, rubbing up and down his thighs to feel how soft Minnie's skin actually was. Gentle. Your touches ease away his distress.

"Sorry Minnie, it won’t feel the same, you have to wait a few days for it to grow out."

So no leg hair, no sellophane. Absolutely no tags on clothing. Headphones when things get too loud. Jimin goes quiet and soft and gentle with the headphones. He tries not to wear them all the time, but when the house goes particularly loud in the afternoons after he's come home from work- it's become his new favorite thing. To sit in Tae's library room with her and enjoy a few moments of companionable quiet.

It's good, it makes you happy that Jimin is leaning a bit more into the sensory stuff than usual since his tentative diagnosis from Jin. The rest of the pack had completely accepted it, almost without a second thought. A few careful nuzzles and a few reassuring kisses.

Jungkook had immediately set out to make a list of Jimin’s safe foods. “I don’t know if I even have any- I don’t know if it’s like an autism sensory thing Jinnie just said that I’ve got something.” But the secretive looks Jin had sent the rest of you had been proof enough. You all believe the pack omega’s words like they’re gospel. And really- when it just comes to loving the people you love and listening to them to love them better that's an easy concession to make.

And it's also a little fucking cute when Jimin leans into the sensory stuff. Yoongi ruffles his hair now where the headphones sat Making the hair that it pressed down poof up again.

“It’s okay Minnie, accidents happen.”

Everyone’s been sensitive to Minnie recently. So careful and intentional with the way that they love him. So much so that they’re letting other things slip through the cracks.

It’s not a big deal. It’s really not- you’d gotten used to a certain level of contact from them over the past few months and while you never audibly complain about it and you’d never admit it. One fact remains; unavoidable and inescapable, haunting you in your simple moments.

You’re fucking needy.

You can only take so much- so many times of Jungkook coming home with the front of his shirt sweat-damp from a run, pulling up and showing off his abs too cool off. Of Namjoon when he changes into pajamas, tiny little shorts that show off all his thighs straining and pulling. Jimin when he’s stretched out, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, all growly and close to Tae whose skirt is pulling high.

Your mate washing his hands in the sink definitely shouldn’t leave you with your mouth dry, slinking off to the upstairs bathroom to clean up just so that no one scents it on you.

It’s embarrassing. You feel like a freshly presented pup.

No one has…sought you out since your little mishap. No one has let their hungry touches linger and go hungrier. No one has given you exactly what you know you need since Hobi- before Moonbyul. Almost 3 weeks ago now.

But to put pressure on them now, when it’s clear that maybe- you need to tread lightly when you already have so much to apologize for. It Feels like too much too soon. You’re not a monster- you can control yourself.

In the meantime, you bake your heart away. Needing something to get your mind off them. The whole house is littered with powdered sugar and sawdust, dusted with frosting and wood filler. There isn’t a single shelf left in the fridge that isn’t covered with cakes or sticky custard tarts, or personal cheesecakes topped pretty with heart-cut strawberries.

The only one Jimin had said was slightly grating to him was the super sticky raspberry tarts. So Tae feeds them to him with a giggle, then Yoongi leans in close, demanding the same treatment, his lips gently swallowing tae's long fingers whole.

You shiver and watch.

"It's so sticky," Yoongi licks forward, lapping at tae's fingers, "but sweet!"

You can't stop your hungry look as you watch Tae lick the whipped cream off the top of a tart, her tongue darting out to lick over her lips. feeding tae a bit of whipped cream. some of it gets on his face and jimin smacks his pulsh lips, glossy.

You feel like you want to smack your face into the table. You actually do grip it hard. You wonder if it's normal, to want so much. To want things so hard. your cheeks feel so hot you might be able to back cookies off them.

Breath crusts your ear, lips just barely brushing your skin "these are really yummy."

You jump, Hobi's next to you and he grins, his fingers traitorously resting on the edge of the counter and you know he knows exactly what you were just thinking. What you were just wanting. You blush hot and needy, embarrassed at being caught staring at them. Busying yourself with pulling the remaining tarts off the drying rack and packing them away with parchment paper.

Tae's cheeks are speckled with powdered sugar. And she giggles- completely unaware of your obvious wanting. You nibble just a little at your own pastry. Appetite is suspiciously silent.

Jimin’s definitely not absorbing your conversation either, too busy watching Tae just like you were. Yoongi slinks off with a quiet thank you- intent on completing whatever project he's currently working on.

Jimin's eyes flick up and down Tae's face. Honed in, unable to look away. "The eye glitter-"

"Eyeshadow Minnie," Tae corrects, a little meanly, a little know-it-all in her tone. The same exact what she gets when she takes her knot and tells you exactly how to-

You need to get a grip. You forcefully turn away from the two of them and flip through your new recipe book. Searching for something sweeter, something else you can make other than fixate on this.

You clench your thighs together and watch Jimin cup Tae’s cheeks, her neck, hands skimming down her waist hungrily.

Jimin lets out a little pent-up breath, "It's like- super mesmerizing today- can you show me which one-"

Tae pulls him up from the table with a sweet giggle, leading him into the other room- Jimin looks a little dazed, stumbling on the carpet as he goes. Hoseok laughs and plucks another cookie from the tray before he helps you put them back inside, shaking his head.

These have powdered sugar on them too, you watch Hobi lick the white from his fingers. Hobi has nice hands, nobly in all the right places. You let out a breath and he licks them again, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Are you like okay or-"

"I'm fine." You whine, a little petulently. Setting down the container a little hard. Hobi laughs, and you wish it didn't make your knees a little weak. You need to get it together. You set the back of your hand against your flaming cheeks.

The fact of the matter is that You've gotten used to a certain amount of attention from the pack. Your body mostly, has gotten used to the near constant attention. Since everything happened, people have been- warming up to it slowly. Baking is also a good way for you to mediated away your sexual frustrations, bury them deep below layers of dough and batter and sparkly sugar.

Hobi's hand scratches under the hem of his shirt and you let out a heavy breath. He looks over at you and his nostrils flare.

"So, ugh- what's next- what are you baking next?"

"I wanna try to make this recipe I saw on Ticktok but I'm out of powdered sugar so-"

"You want me to drive you?" Your eyes flicker up. And you perk up at the idea of getting out of the house right now.

"Yes," you say, is your voice shaky? Are you the only one who notices the way that Hoseok's hand curls over his keys? or the way that you move restlessly? Pent up.

You leave, you tell others, but you find it hard to look away from Hoseok long enough to send a text to the group chat The same way that it was hard for Jimin to look away from Tae.

You make it to the store without any sort of comment from him, anything beyond his hand and your hand intertwined over the center console. Although you do see Hobi's mouth quirk as you stare and stare and stare.

There is something unfairly attractive about the way that Hoseok drives; one hand on the back of your headrest to back in the car. Something that makes you feel like you're melting when he follows you around the store. Taking one step for every two of yours, slow and leisurely, lingering close behind you protectively as you debate milk chocolate and semi-sweet. Reaching over you to get the sugar from the top shelf. His bicep brushing the top of your head.

Your jeans have rips in them, a courting gift from Tae who claimed they were cute (the pockets on the back are heart-shaped) His index and middle finger stay tucked into the back pocket of them, tugging you back close when you almost step in front of someone's cart, his thumb resting on the hollow of your back. Rubbing.

But when he gets into the car he pauses, "do you want to-"

"The beach?"

He swallows hard, "yeah- just for a bit?"

You drive, and instead of returning your hands to the center console Hobi’s hand creeps, settling on your knee. Hobi hooks his finger into the biggest rip in your jeans, one on your upper thigh, stroking the skin higher and higher. You go still, look down, and watch his hands rub smooth circles on your inner thigh.

Hoseok has very pretty hands.

A heat creeps up the back of your neck as Hobi keeps his eyes on the road and not on you. You try not to squirm, not to close your legs either. Although you know he'll be able to smell and feel your slick if he keeps it up for too long. You know your scent is swelling treacherously sweet, but you hope he won't comment- won't notice.

But when he pulls into the parking lot and the ocean is right there, turning dark green and a little violent at high tide. The air is stormy but sweet through the cracked windows. He turns to you, already smirking. The quirk of his lips teases and you realize he knows exactly what he's been doing to you this whole time.

You're already shoving his hand off of you, and he laughs at your flaming cheeks. "Oh my god shut up-"

"I didn't say anything."

"Oh, you little shit-" Hoseok grins.

"You're cute when you're flustered from being teased."

"Call me cute one more fucking-"

"Cute."

You put your head between your knees and actually scream. It's soft, not all that loud. Hoseok's laugh is louder as he throws his head back. And you regret ever making the mistake of falling in love with your best friend.

"Oh my god you are totally getting horny because of a car-"

"It's not the fucking car-" you whine, almost petulant.

"Oh, so it's me then?" The way Hoseok raises his eyebrow at you makes you want to scream. The smirk that has your omegan instincts rankled back on his stupidly pretty face.

"And if it is?"

Hoseok grins, reaching over to cup your cheek in his hand. Pinching the sides so that your lips push out. Holding you hard so that you can't squirm away.

"Then c'm here."

There are other things that you both crave beyond sugar and sweets. kisses that turn into giggles. Hoseok's lips move, good and gentle for a second. Exactly what you need, what you've been craving. His kisses offer a little relief.

And then he bites your lower lip.

It smells like gasoline and sea salt and blood when you pull it apart. rubbing at your stinging lip, a little angry. You're not bleeding, but it feels like you could be. A Hoseok-shaped space over your heart, wrenched clean, bleeding because where he sits is so far. If the distance and wanting could make you bleed- you would be.

(Hoseok bit you to keep you close because, for a second, it felt like you were about to pull back. His alpha didn't like that.)

You bristle an omega that needs settling. Hoseok almost wants to bare his teeth at how on edge it makes him. You smell so needy. Sticky sweet the way that Jungkook does sometimes. Hoseok's half surprised that the other omega didn't get to you before he did. Usually, Jungkook is the kinda of packmate who notices these things.

You flush hot. Half anger, half wanting. "Bitch-"

Hoseok reaches down between his legs for the lever under the seat to push it back. He pushes his seat away from the steering wheel and makes room for you. He parts his legs wide and gestures to his lap.

"I said come here."

The beach is empty and so is your part of the parking lot. It's getting late, past sunset and into twilight. The butter in the back seat of the car gathers condensation and starts to thaw but you don't even think about it a little bit.

You don't think about the people who might be nearby, the people who Could clearly see what you're doing in the car as you clamber over the center console. You leave your shoes behind in the passenger seat (you already have a habit of taking them off in the car). Bruising knees as you move over to the driver’s seat planting hungry kisses along Hobi's cheek, his jaw, every inch of his skin that you can reach, and then his lips finally. So shaky with wanting that you're clumsy. gripping the front of his shirt.

You can feel his grin against every kiss. You can feel it when he starts to grimace and you pull back. Hobi winces covering your banged knee with his big palm. You'll definitely have a bruise tomorrow.

You just take his hand and put it on your hip higher, and he raises an eyebrow at your brazenness. "Wow, you really want it huh?" He taunts, and you melt against his front past the point of pretending that you're not fucking needy, that you don't need him and need this right now if he's willing to give it.

"Hobi please-"

He just laughs at you, "though you were gonna spontaneously combust watching Yoongi eat that tart- it was fucking hilarious."

You whine high and needy. But he likes to tease, and you like he when he teases. Is this what having sex with your best friend is like? All jokes and jabs and fun. It feels nice when you can feel Hobi's laugh this way. Pressed against your stomach when you shimmy closer. It’s a bit cold, but he's warm and big against your front sitting in his lap like that. 

You lean back, and hit directly into the steering wheel and horn. You bury your blush in Hobi's chest as he laughs and laughs, and Hobi's hands fist on your hips, pulling you closer, then farther apart, then closer again.

"Hobi what if someone heard."

"They didn't- there's like no one here- fuck-" You feel his lips with every beat of your heart, kissing so hard it tastes like bruising.

He holds you around your waist and guides you into a subtle sloppy grind, he's only wearing his sweatpants, no boxers underneathand it's clear he's not as unaffected as he claims. The hardness tents in the gray frabric. Pushed up against you. His cock is already hard and firm and twitching.

The front seat of the Lambo is not as spacious as you'd like, but you don't care enough to move to the backseat. Already shaking from just a few kisses. You let out a small whine as he guides you to grind harder against his front, controlling your rhythm with two hands on your ass. You can tell you're getting sloppy, leaking slick. You feel hot all over, simmering as Hobi looks up at you and grins.

"You're like totally gonna cum from this-"

"Oh my god shut up-"

He leans in to bite the tip of your nose, "Make me."

A nearby gull caws loudly, dissonant with the darkness, it’s just a hair past twilight, and the streetlights cast his face in yellow and blue chiaroscuro. It's not private at all but it's perfect and as easy as breathing. Your hips, his hips, and not an inch of space between.

You curse Tae who finally convinced you to buy jeans again as Hobi helps you pull them off, jostling you, hitting your head on the top of the car with a muted "ow!"

Hobi kisses the top of your head holding it reverently while he giggles, and it feels like you're a pair of teenagers again. It feels like for all intents and purposes the last month hasn't happened- like you're right back to where you left off. None of this is heavy, none of it hurts.

The kisses don't stop. Migrating from your mouth down under your jaw, the hollow of your throat. You've soaked through the front of your panties, and Hobi pulls back to look down. Touching the little damp patch you've left against the front of his sweats humming thoughtfully. Breathing a little heavy. Hair all pulled at and messy from where you ran your fingers through it.

The quirk of his mouth is mischievous, "wanna rile the others up?"

You scoot back a bit, grinning, loving Hoseok is like a super special inside joke. "Just don't get my face."

Hobi snaps a picture of your thighs on either side of his, your pussy, barely clothed in semi-translucent fabric all dark blue. His cock wet and hard straining up against the grey sweats. He sends it and then throws it to the passenger seat to jerk you closer.

Hoseok’s phone starts vibrating almost immediately but texts go unanswered, every call goes unanswered in favor of shimmying his sweatpants down and letting his cock pop up, a pearly bit of precum already wetting the tip.

You still, and he guides his cock up at the same moment he settles you down, hand cupping your hip to guide you, pulling your soaking underwear to the side in his haste. His teeth grit and he sighs, you're so warm, so hot inside.

"There you go, is that better?"

"Fuck," you murmur, sinking down slowly, giving yourself time to adjust before your riding goes, still syrupy slow. “So much better.” You don’t want to thank him for something like this but you do anyway.

It’s unhurried as he pulls you closer and closer. You don't know why Hobi likes to fuck like this, so close and slow. Barely pulling back to fuck his cock in, he just keeps you close and lets you grind wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you as close as he can get you. The car starts to rock, squeaking, and the sounds of sex greet you as Hoseok fucks up into your wet hole. All sloppy and wet sounding, coupled with the smacks of your kisses.

“So fucking wet all the time, so fucking messy,” he growls out, and you whimper, pressing your face into his neck and gripping his arms helplessly.

“Can’t help it- can’t-”

He rises up, hands bunching in your short-cropped zip-up sweatshirt, to pick up up and down, up and off of his cock. Hoseok usually isn’t so physically strong, but he helps you ride him, making it faster and filthier. The fabric slides off your shoulders with the hastiness of your grinding, and the white tank top with the thin straps fall down to your elbow. He bites with his teeth when you clench around him, listening to the thud thud thud of your heart and counting every breath.

You get sweaty and sticky until the back seat of the car and all the windows fog up. Hobi kisses endlessly up and down your throat as his hands hold you loose and gentle and then tighter as he continues to force you up and down at a maddening pace.

Even with you on top, Hoseok is still an alpha, still needs to be in control. You can't move even a little bit without him controlling where you go. He pulls you back down into his lap and then pulls you tighter, forcing his cock deeper. You feel like you can feel Hobi all the way in your throat, letting out a weak sob.

"There we fucking go-"

"Fuck Hobi! I'm- please- I need-"

"You can- just-"

At the last moment, Hoseok's hand settles not on your side, but on your stomach, pressing down. you paw at his wrist helplessly.

"Don't! if you do that i'm gonna-"

But it's already too late, You cum, so worked up that it doesn’t take much, You'd like to think that you only squirt because he's making the fit extra tight with his hands, or because it's been a long time since you've cum at all. But you blush furiously as your cunt continues to spasm and drip.

Your Hand on the door keeps yourself up a little, almost forcing Hobi's cock out of you with how hard you clench down and drip slick onto his lap. Letting out a loud moan that someone could certainly hear if they were standing just outside the car.

Hoseok just fucking giggles.

You teeter, cumming so hard you're dizzy, Head lolling to the side until he guides you to rest against his shoulder. "I've got you, I'm sorry- that was mean," he drags his teeth down your scent gland and you tremble.

Hobi pulls back to look at the wet splatter. The front of his white shirt is translucent. He touches where it clings to his abs. Flexing and twitching. And then he looks up at you. As you shakily come down, keeping your pussy up, the head of his cock is still inside but not much else.

He pulls you back down, hard, and you yelp. hoseok has something in his eyes that's just as hungry as you were, something that you wouldn't be able to explain. You cumming doesn't make him quiet, it only makes him hungrier.

He guides you to bounce, up and down, at a faster pace, chasing his own orgasm now. "So, fucking needy, that's what you needed right?" He growls and you nod. Helpless. He forces you down on his slowly inflating knot a little, hard enough for you to feel it.

Your socked toes curl where you're kneeling, and he strokes up one of them. You jerk, ticklish, whimpering, body humming and oversensitive (is this how Jimin feels all the time?) His hand slides up your knee to grip you harder, and you squirm on his cock. 

You rest your cheek on his shoulder, looking up at him. A little cock drunk, a little fucked out. "Like it when you call me needy, like it-" he kisses your slack mouth, bitten, pinker. "Cause it means you know I need you and you don't mind." you babble, and Hoseok just grins.

"Could never mind," His kisses interrupt his words. Like he can't be bothered to remove his lips from your skin long enough to speak. "need you too."

Hobi cums and his cock twitches. The smell of gasoline and burning tires on your skin. His knot inflates so quick and hard that you jerk, with little control of your body, curled to his chest- there’s little place for you to go. Shivering and twitching as his cum spurts, hot and wet filling you up with a sigh.

Which is how your face ends up hitting right up into his nose.

Hoseok has had more violent comedowns as he clutches his nose throbbing, wet and slimy blood. “What the actual fuck” you’re murmuring out sorry after sorry, still knotted together unable to move from his lap more than scrabbling at the passenger seat for some tissues, panicking until he starts to laugh.

And he's not angry no- he just laughs and wipes away the blood from his lips. “Not broken, don’t worry fuck-” it's payment for the teasing from earlier- karmatic because you don't like your alphas bloody. you hold the napkin to hoseok's nose and try not to move, his cock still occasionally twitching with a fresh spurt of cum. The nosebleed is over in a second.

It feels strange to laugh over something like blood, especially after the last few weeks you've had. But for once- it doesn't trigger either of you. He holds you close and gets blood on your sweatshirt probably but the car is full of the sound of laughter whereas 3 a minute ago it was full of the sloppy sounds of car sex and moaning.

“M’sorry”

His hands go up and down your waist, hungry, your slick is cooling and the sweat on the back of his neck is turning balmy. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean too.”

You try to pull back and squirm away from the way he��s holding you, but he holds you firmly against him. “Knots gotta go down soon, just stay like this a while.”

You settle, and he scents the top of your head, it’s useless, anyone will be able to tell what you’ve been doing after this, you can feel his cock twitch wet as he cums again a little more, and your pussy clamps down, milking his knot for all it’s worth. You sigh at the feeling.

Compared to your other packmates Hoseok is such a comfortable fit. Whereas when Namjoon knots you you can hardly move, Hoseok's knot is almost comforting. Soothing. The ache in you that wants to be filled truly quiet. (If you got a tape out and measured, you'd see that Hoseok's knot thickness is only a little wider than Namjoon's fully hard)

Alpha musk sweetens the air in satisfaction, but also challenge, the way that Hoseok smells when he and Jimin wrestle and he gains the upper hand- however briefly. Definitely not the way that the alphas usually smell after popping a knot.

You recognize the cross look on his face and aim to kiss it off of him. planting the type of kiss that almost always makes Hobi smile at the corner of his lips.

You pause for a second, for dramatic effect, but it still doesn't make him stop his pouting. “Okay- now you’ve got to tell me what's wrong you’re still literally inside me and you’re not smiling-” you laugh against his throat, pull back worried, “not that you have to be happy fuck- I didn’t mean-”

Your words jog him out of his thoughts and shimmies forward, Hoseok pecks your nose, your lips, still warm from your sighs and moans that he got out of you. His shifting causes his cock and knot to rub up and more fully inside you just slightly, forcing a tiny bit of cum to slip out, cooling and sticky.

But oh well- the inside of the lambo has seen worse messes in recent weeks. You sigh at the movement and rest your face against the hollow of Hobi’s throat, pouting petulantly as he continues the small juts of his hips, content to rip another orgasm out of you (although the front of his white shirt is already soaked translucent with it). He's competitive like that.

You grab his arms to try and slow him, already a little overstimulated and unable to feel your thighs, but Hoseok just grabs your waist and lifts you up, however briefly- to seat you more firmly on his knot, "Hobi fuck-"

There's an itch under his skin that just won't quiet down. Won't settle. You can see that now, his instincts are on edge, gnashing their teeth.

You tilt your throat, offering it up, bearing it to him.

Hoseok watches the action, eyes flinty. Sounding too serious. "How many times does Yoongi usually make you cum?"

Your eyes flutter, and he settles you back against his chest, his heart thuds quick against your ear, "like two or three times usually." Hoseok's knot deflated enough to pull out and he does it slowly, mindful of how sore you must be.

Hoseok goes slowly, but he’s still cum enough that you can’t clench closed enough to keep his cum in, you try and stop it but Hoseok catches your wrist so that you drip out, down, hitting the leather seat. He can’t stop watching you clench, hole pink and fucked, clit twitching because of him. Rubbing smooth circles on your thighs transfixed for a second but then reaching for his phone because.

“Fuck- Namjoon’s gonna go crazy.”

You cover your flaming face with your hands but you let Hoseok send another picture. This time of your wet and messy entrance, pink clit, a bit of his cum in the picture, dripped milky around the leather seat it's- fuck It's utterly pornographic. Might just as well send Namjoon into a rut with how fucking provocative it is.

Hoseok takes another, pressing the head of his cock to your hole, not inside, but just close enough that it's like they're kissing. Hot and wet and dripping with your slick and his cum. pooling a little on the head of his cock.

Hoseok sends it, and immediately gets another call from Namjoon. Hoseok sends it to voicemail only to grin at the amount that the pack alpha has already left.

“Guess how many voicemails he left?” You’re still shaking, still trembling from how hard you came, but Hoseok is so unaffected, all languid and satisfied.

“I don’t know, four?”

Hoseok laughs, husky, and pecks your shoulder. “Fucking seven” he clicks one and you laugh out loud for the scrabbling in the background alone.

“Jimin you are not going to drive to them- calm the fuck down.” Jin's says, sounding angry, in the background but Namjoon’s is deep. More of a growl. “Pups, come home right now, preferably before you end up knotted to each other in public,”

he snickers, "Too late."

You shimmy forward. Unwilling to separate from Hobi even though you're not knotted together anymore. You wouldn't mind just staying like this, cuddled up against his chest. But Hoseok knows what you want, what you need. He pulled out a little too soon (not for the knot, with that he was very very gentle) but because of your instincts. You still need him close.

He sinks inside of you with a sigh and you sniffle, “Keep it nice and warm yeah?” He teases, and you swat at his arm but let him. The drag is hot and filthy and slow.

You think that’s all he’ll do until He reaches down between the two of you to put his thumb and pointer finger around your clit. You jerk, scrambling to grip onto his wrist as he tugs.

“I thought you said Yoongi made you cum 2 or 3 times."

"Yes but- I'm sensitive."

"I like that you're sensitive, for the record, even though I'm probably going to tease you about this later." His voice is so husky, so deep and alpha that you melt and let him do what he wants.

You gasp and he plays with your clit, actually plays with it, rubbing it this way and that. Parting your lips to watch it tremble as you try and clench. His cock twitches where it fills you, starting to rock up and into you just a bit.

“That’s all you wanted right, just someone to touch you right here" He teases, eyes dark, breathing through his teeth as you clench. You tremble from overstimulation but nod dumbly.

Hoseok rubs the tight v of his fingers up and down, popping your clit up and down, such small movements that drive you crazy. You can’t clench any harder around his knot ( starting to fill out again, starting to pulse thick and hot) but Hoseok groans as you try to hold onto him, fingers going faster, sloppier.

You lean back, putting your hands on his knees, letting him see all of you, the damp hem of your shirt where you made it messy. Your pink cunt all for his viewing pleasure as you pop yourself up and down his length.

"Can't-" You're dumb, actually unable to speak as Hoseok starts fucking you again in earnest. The drag so much wetter with his cum already filling you up, squishing out around his cock again.

“Can’t come again?” He raises an eyebrow. “What? You’ll come 3 times for Yoongi but you won’t for me?”

“That’s not- it’s not-“ You can’t think with the way he keeps rubbing, tiny little movements as he continues to tug and rub, the small movements maddening. “Alpha!” you cry as he tugs again, cumming so hard and Hoseok’s fingers- tug again, milking a bit of squirt from you. Just a bit.

You clench so hard it forces his knot out, cum and slick dripping everywhere. Darkening his sweatpants with a dark laugh.

He doesn't leave you unfilled for long, guiding his cock back and forcing it to pop back in. The car rocks and you sob. And yeah- this is exactly what you needed. Your brain shuts off for a bit. You needed someone to fuck and knot the thought out of you gently, but not so gently as to let your mind wander.

You can tell hobi's close by the tone of his voice, how close to a growl it is. “Gonna make you milk my knot, gonna make you cum until Yoongi will have to compete with me. Until I’m the one who-“ Hoseok cuts himself off as his knot pops for the second time.  

His knot feels hotter the second time around, thicker too- maybe it’s just because you feel so tight and full of his cum.

It’s calm for a second, calm. The sound of the crashing waves, his breath as he breathes in deep. You don't know how long you stay like that, so close to each other that you can hardly breathe. His knot still hasn’t gone down. His breath and your breath, you kiss his temple his cheek. And when you pull back to look at him, his face has that same look to it. You don’t even have to ask him, he already knows that you're going to ask what he meant by the last bit.

“It’s nothing.” but you wait because you know it’s not and that he's just working up to it.

You kiss at his temple. (How lovely is it- that your favorite place to be kissed should be called the same name as a house of worship?) Hoseok kisses you back just as reverently.

Earlier when he was thinking about something, he got that competitive look on his face, and he wears that same look now. “It’s just, earlier I was thinking about it.”

“When you were frowning the first time?”

“No. At the house.” Hoseok is silent for another second, rubbing a soothing hand down your spine. And you realize you’re not afraid of anything he might say, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“You said, with Tae- that you wanted to marry her.”

Hoseok closes his eyes, just briefly. His eyelashes catch the light from the streetlamps. “I've never thought about getting married, not at all, and I'm not asking that's not- I'm not-" Hoseok sighs, frustrated. He's fine with dirty talk and teasing but this- this is so much harder to say.

"I was just looking at you and wondering...wondering why you chose her out of the whole pack and not someone else"

Why not me?

You and Hobi have agreed that saying the scary things is the way you get through it. Love will do you no good if you can’t do it scared.

You pull back and the look on your face makes Hobi blush, it’s so open and honest, like a hint of humor chased with all the love in the world. Hoseok pulls you tighter, more firmly against him in the front seat of the Lamborghini.

You’ve only been officially official for the last few weeks. But already Hobi can’t think of his life without you, can’t think of any world where you don’t mean just as much to him as the others do. If mating marks could go 8 ways it would be an easy choice, but they don’t work that way.

He’s never even called you his girlfriend for Christ’s sake. And he’s already talking about mating marks and marriage. and feeling hurt when you offer those shows of devotion to other people and not him. Jealousy in packs shouldn't exist, but it sort of does sometimes.   You nudge his nose with yours. A small little nuzzle. “You and I are more matching tattoo people, aren’t we? I thought you’d want more than just a ring.”

A laugh jumps out of Hoseok’s chest like lightning, surprising him with how little he expects it, “Really? Fuck- you’d get matching tattoos with me?”

You lift his palm up to your throat, the blank side and then the one marred by Yoongi’s mating bite. “I’ve already got one mark on me that I can’t erase, gotta give you the same treatment.”

He’s a little speechless, eyes glittering with stars (they’re just from the streetlights but still) you keep it going. “If you could bite me? Where would you put it?”

Hoseok sits up straight, dragging his kiss down the side of your throat, “here maybe?” the tops of your breasts, “or here maybe,” next to your heart, Hoseok brings his hand to his face, kissing the center of it. “Probably here.”

You cover his hand with yours and then grip his shoulder, thumb rubbing up and down his pectoral, your foreheads resting against each other.

“If you ever need, if you ever want- like today- you can just ask me.”

“You sure? It wouldn’t be like- too much?” you don’t say her name, you don’t say that it would be like before. But Hoseok closes his eyes, he knows you won’t ever do anything like that. He doesn’t honestly think you’d be capable of that…the guilt and the forcing.

Hoseok isn’t worried about it in the slightest. He knows if he ever felt even a bit like that, he could tell you and you’d stop without a second thought. Whatever you need.  (If that doesn’t count as marriage, I’m not sure what god is looking for.)

“I’m sure. I like this, it’s nice.” It’s nice when it’s just the two of us, you’re my best friend.

You’re coming down, still resting against his chest. Hoseok’s knot will have deflated enough for him to pull out without pain in a few moments, a few breaths as you exchange sleepy soft kisses. Nowhere to go and nowhere to be. The panic has worn out of you. The frantic desire simmering low and sated in your veins. The fire turned down low. The fear was non-existent.

Until a loud screech punctuates the quiet.

It’s pretty immediate how everything falls apart. One moment you and Hobi are curled up against each other. And the next second you look over his shoulder and see the red and blue flashing lights. You have seconds, maybe a breath before the sirens blare and those lights flash brighter. A foreign voice coming over the loudspeaker shattering the quiet. “Stay where you are!”

“Shit! Hobi!” Hoseok jerks, you are still knotted together but he pulls you off of him with little care for your comfort. You don’t blame him too panicked as you slide to the passenger seat and he tucks his cock back into his sweats. Reaching for your jeans a second too late.

“Crap- pull up your pants- oh fucking hell-“

Both of you turn syrupy slow when the police officer taps on his window. Shining his light inside of the foggy car.

~-~

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Notes:

yoongi gets fewer parts in this chapter because he's going to get a dedicated moment in the next chapter!!!

to be honest- i'm not really totally sure that jimin in bily has autisim or not- if he does have autism slightly or not, he does have the same sort of sensory issues that i do, i guess i can't answer the question for jimin because i can't answer it for myself yet.

jimin like me- realizes that the sensory stuff really affects him- i think he's never been allowed to realize how things make him feel. he's never been that sure of his emotions and his feelings.

if leg hair has one hater it's me, if leg hair has no haters then i am dead.

i wrote this chapter with the understanding that if jimin does have some form of psychopathy- then jin certainly does have it too- like out of all of them i think that the dynamic that fits them best is "jimin is crazy and knows it, jin is crazy and doesn't know it."

Song inspiration is just Rm's- Around the world in a day. i know we only have one song but!!! what a break of charecter!!

was i inspired by namjoons "she a pro-rida, Oo Oo Oo Oo rida~" for this chapter? yes i was. and what about it??

hoseok and the m/c are such a mess i swear to god i love them so much like- they're just so cute in their little car sex scene.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: 1:05 AM

Tags/Warnings: sensual, Suggestive, implied smut, heavy flirting/making out, Idol!Jungkook, Fluff, Established Relationship, implied foreigner!Reader, not home AU though

Lenght: mid.

Languages are marked as English / Korean.

AU-Masterlist

This AU doesn't have a name yet, so I'm simply using times as a name for now.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Don't you want to come to bed with me?" He wonders, walking into the living room where you're still scrolling on your phone.

"I'm sorry.. I'm not tired yet." You pout. "And, are you not worried you might crush me in your sleep anymore, big guy?" Leaning your head back to look at him as he casually steps closer, sitting halfway on the edge of the couch as he looks down at you, tongue running over his bottom lip before he speaks.

"Nah, we literally wrestled on the couch yesterday, You're a tough girl." He wonders, voice low as he clearly attempts to woo you over. "But how about I... make you tired?" He says in English, making you giggle.

"Your English is cute." You tease a little, and he squints his eyes at you, biting the skin of his lips as he shakes his head.

"Not cute." He responds, shaking his head, before he points at himself, eyebrows raising as if he's attempting to appear offended. "Sexy. I'm-.. hot boyfriend." He tells you, and you laugh again. "You no take me serious?" He asks, voice raising in pitch while you fall to your side, thoroughly amused by his antics.

"I love you, jungkook." You say between laughter, and he gets off of his spot before he attacks you on the couch instead, body now over yours as he playfully bites at your neck. He's had enough time now; an entire week of playfighting and getting to know you better in a physical sense- getting the hang of how he's supposed to handle you.

How he can handle you.

"Hmhm, I love you." He responds, before his antics turn into more sensual kisses against your jawline. "Dont want to?" He asks against your skin, and you shrug- playing hard to get. You've talked about things like these before- hell, you have quite literally jerked off on call before.

"Not in the mood." You simply answer to rile him up, not letting him know that you're very much in the mood, but unable to hide your grin.

"Is that so." He wonders, a deep purr underlining his low tone before he places his hands underneath your arms, pushing you higher up on the couch so your back is leveled against the side. "You think I can get you into the mood?"

"I don't know, can you?" You wonder at him, and he sits back at that, hands grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt before it's swiftly lifted over his head, arms easily slipping out of the short sleeves as it's thrown somewhere on the siderest of the couch behind him. There's a candle on the table, barely illuminating the scene of his apartment- but it's nice like this. He enjoys the soft orange glow of everything in front of him, especially your features. They're more accentuated like this, as if you're in some sort of alternative dimension where time doesn't exist and the outside world stands still for a moment.

"Can I take off?" He asks you, hands slipping underneath your fluffy sweater, and you nod, an okay he immediately grins at, lip running over his lips. It's the first time he'll see you in person like this. It'll be the first time he's going to be able to touch you, see you bare and raw and real, and it's exciting to him.

In a way, sex isn't even on his mind. All he wants to do right now is explore.

He's a bit disappointed when he realizes you're wearing a cotton bralette underneath the sweater, but at the same time, he really does like the aesthetic of it all. His palms run over your newly exposed skin with care, before they rest at your sides, head leaning down to kiss from your sternum right down to your belly button. You giggle a little when the cold tip of his nose brushes over your skin, tickling a little, and he grins as well, mind completely filled with you. "You're so pretty." He chuckles, and you nod at him.

"I feel very pretty now, too." You tell him, making him smile.

"You should." He agrees, before he grows bolder, leaning down to kiss you as one of his hands travels over your still covered chest. He can feel the warmth of your body through the fabric, nipple already hardening at the clear excitement of it all. So much for not being in the mood, he thinks to himself.

Kissing had never really been something he really found intimate or anything. It never felt special- but with you, he can't seem to get enough, and he honestly cannot explain it properly. If he was to be asked, he would probably blame it on his love for you, no matter how childish it might sound.

Right now, he feels different from any other encounter he'd ever had like this.

Before you right now, making out had always been somewhat of a necessary step for him to get to the main course, in a way. Like a habit you can't break because that's just what everybody else does- but right now, he believes that he could happily continue this for as long as you're up for it. It riles him up in more ways than just simple arousal- though that part is pretty clear at this point, underwear starting to feel uncomfortable especially when you lift your leg, knee brushing against his by now fully erect length still tucked away in grey cotton underwear and black sweatpants. It makes him groan lowly into your mouth, making you giggle in amusement as you repeat the motion, clearly aware of what it's doing to him.

"Brat." He scolds, before his fingers slip underneath the hem of your bralette, lifting it over your head, finally freeing your breasts for him to see. They look like art in the low warm glow of the scented candle on the table- and not just them. Your whole body that he's exposed at this point, from your collabone to the very edge of your jawline, it all feels like a movie, as if it's not real.

But it is. He's touching you, after all. He can feel you, see you- hear you.

Especially when you whine impatiently, pulling on one of the strings of his sweatpants, making him sit up on his heels. "I'll be right back-" He says, before he jumps over the backrest of the couch- instead of walking the other side around it like any normal person would. But he's anything but ordinary- and that's fine with you. You love him like this, after all.

Because that's him.

When he returns, he blows out the candle on the table, light from the bedroom enough to make it all visible enough so he can properly pick you up in his arms, lifted over his shoulder before he playfully smacks your butt.

"Jungkook!" You scold, laughing as he walks into his bedroom with you, setting you back onto your own legs before he kills the lights again, colorful led moodlight illuminating the walls and you before he crawls into bed with you.

"I kind of like you saying my name. A lot." He hums towards you, before he leans down to kiss your neck, hands back on your body. "And I really liked how you just called it out like that." he teases, referring to your little outburst at his antics. His gaze is dark and sharp as he looks at you, running his tongue over his piercing before he looks at you impishly, almost roughly pulling off your sweatpants down your ankles.

"Think I can make you do it again?"

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

[wileys-russo]

looks can be deceiving II a.russo x reader

you all asked, here's the answer. secretly soft biker gf (au) lessi looks can be decieving II a.russo x reader

"so where's your guard dog today then?" you playfully shoved your best friend with a roll of your eyes at the question as the two of you walked across campus toward the parking lot.

"at work i think, she was gone by the time i woke up." you shrugged, not having spoken very much to your girlfriend given she was far from the worlds best texter and you'd been in exams all day.

"and you're fine with just assuming that? you don't feel the need to like check in?" your best friend asked in disbelief. "well yeah? she told me she was working today, i believe her. it's called trust, maybe you've heard of it!" you teased, smacking her arm.

"i guess she doesn't really have any friends she could be hanging round with anyway." you pinched her for the comment as the girl whined and pushed you away. "don't be rude!" you warned seriously, not accepting anyone speaking badly of your girlfriend, even your best friend.

"i still can't believe you're with her." the girl beside you shook her head as you sent her a look. "and what's that supposed to mean?" you challenged, stopping in front of her with your arms crossed. "she's so...rough?" your best friend analysed with a grimace, unable to really find the words to describe the girl you were so head over heels for.

"you're judging her without knowing her, again." you sighed, the two of you resuming your walking, having just finished your final exam for the day. "because you won't let me meet her properly! you've been seeing her for like four months and i think i've heard her say about ten words?" your best friend chastised.

"she's just independent. and every time i invite you to hang out with us you get all weird about it and make her uncomfortable!" you warned, having admittedly been trying to get the two women to spend some time together with you but so far you'd had no success at all.

"i make her uncomfortable?? she makes me uncomfortable she looks at me like she wants to stab me!" your best friend huffed. "no she doesn't, she's really sweet. plus she treats me well and makes me very happy, isn't that enough for you as my best and most loyal friend?" you gave the girl beside you puppy dog eyes who groaned and pushed your head away.

"didn't she eat the head off a bat once for a dare?" the brunette beside you asked with a grimace, you scoffed at the question. though before you could answer a new voice rang out behind you.

"yeah, was a bit crunchy though. you want me to get you one to try?" you spun around at the familiar accent, your whole face lighting up at the sight of your girlfriend. "lessi!" you beamed, jumping on her as the taller girl easily caught you in her arms.

"alessia." your best friend deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest as the soft smile which made its way to your girlfriends lips at the sight of you quickly melted away and she placed you back down on your feet.

"layla." the girl replied in the same curt tone, wrapping her arms around you possessively from behind. "well this has been rivoting. get home safe with your personal grease monkey babe, call me later." your best friend smiled at you as alessia sent her a glare over the top of your head.

"i thought you had work baby?" you turned around in her hold, wrapping your arms around her neck and leaning up on your tippy toes to peck her lips. "mm i left early, perks of being the bosses daughter." alessia grinned, pecking your lips back a few times before attacking your face with kisses making you laugh.

"why? i thought you were doing that vintage chief you can't seem to stop talking about." you asked curiously, your girlfriend beaming with pride that you remembered.

"gio was getting on my last fucking nerve with it today. i had to start over twice because he kept sticking his fingers in thinking he knows better than i do, and then something falls off or apart and i'm back to square one." your girlfriend puffed air out of her nose with an annoyed grunt.

"m'sorry baby. but your dad knows you're the best though, why do you think he trusts you with all of the older engines that are more fragile? nobody can love them, care for them and bring them back to life like you can lessi baby." you reminded her softly, smiling as she pressed her face into your shoulder, likely to hide the blush you knew would be creeping down her neck at the praise.

"i hope you didn't bring your bike though. i am not getting on that death trap i already told you." you warned making the older girl roll her eyes and mock you under her breath.

"you're getting on it one day even if i have to tie you to the damn seat. but no, i have the car." alessia sighed dramatically, pulling away to take your hand as the two of you continued across the parking lot.

"god you look good in your uniform." you commented with a grin, eyes shamelessly roaming the grease stained coveralls clinging to her body, the girl working most days in her dads auto body garage working on what was her second love next to you, her beloved vintage motorcyles.

"little perv." alessia rolled her eyes and shoved your head playfully but your grin widened seeing the slight blush which coated her cheeks, as they did anytime you gave her even the slightest hint of a compliment. "after you." she was quick to open the passenger door for you, stealing a kiss as you slid in.

"such a gentlewoman." "only the very best for you baby girl."

~

"those are for you." your girlfriend nodded to a bunch of flowers sitting on her desk as she let the two of you into her apartment, closing the door and sitting down to take off her boots. "oh lessi." you melted, lips curling into an adoring smile.

"they're beautiful." you sent her a grateful look over your shoulder, moving to find something to put them in given you planned to spend the weekend here, and probably most of next week.

you had your own place, a sharehouse with two roommates, but if you were honest you stayed nights here much more than there, and that was just as alessia wanted it anyway.

her apartment was quintessentially just so her. the dark toned wood furniture, the worn in brown leather sofa draped in throw cushions and blankets that you knew she only bought once the two of you started dating to make it seem a little more 'homey'.

the olive green accents in her minimal decor choices which popped against the numerous amounts of house plants scattered around, the girl shockingly had a fantastic green thumb. then there was the countless amounts of books lining her walls, almost all classics like emily dickinson, bronte and sylvia plath.

then of course there was her baby.

the restored 1941 harley davidson which sat right in the middle of the apartment in place of a dining table, an odd sight to most but it was just so incredibly alessia for her to have it there you'd never minded.

her apartment was her safe space and her haven, littered with trinkets and engine parts and tools, but then there was the typewriter on her desk which sat right by the enormous floor to wall window which let in the most glorious sunlight in the early mornings and late evenings, the vintage cameras and the polaroids of you stuck to her fridge.

it was hers, and you felt privileged that she let you in to become a part of it.

"you're beautiful." suddenly you were turned around as you rummaged through her cupboards trying to find something to use as a makeshift vase, your body pinned to the counter as the taller girl loomed over you with a soft smile.

your hands reached up to tug her hair out which was half up in a bun, a dirty mix of black, brunette and blonde waves falling to frame her face as you tangled your fingers in the soft locks.

"you've done so well with your exams gorgeous. i'm really really proud of you, my smart intelligent wonderful girl." alessia praised with a soft smile, tenderly pulling you into a kiss as her mouth slotted perfectly with yours, her hands gently caressing your sides.

your head swam at the feeling of her kissing you. sometimes she could be rough and posessive and needy with the way she attacked your lips, but most times, like right now, she was soft and slow and tender, taking her time with you to show you how much each kiss really meant to her.

this was the alessia you fell head over heels for. the soft spoken, severely misunderstood sweetheart who wrote you poems and bought you flowers just because, who laid with her legs tangled with yours in the sunshine pouring in from her windows and read to you for hours with a voice like honey.

the girl who touched you so carefully and so lovingly as if you were made of glass and might break if she wasn't gentle enough. who taught you how to make homemade pasta and loved nothing more than to lay down with her head in your lap while you played with her hair, allowing her to let down the walls that she had built up and fortified around anyone else that wasn't you.

not the big tough tattooed biker girl with a smart mouth and a bad attitude who dropped out of school to fix engines, ride her harley and flit from party to party, never caught without a cigarette behind her ear, cocky smirk and a leather jacket on her shoulders.

granted though she was the biggest teddy bear most of the time, she did have her moments where she might live up a little more to her reputation.

if she'd had a bad day at work, maybe argued with one of her brothers over a part that was supposed to be ordered which never came which pushed back the whole job and she'd gotten the blame, then she had no issues treating you a little rougher, using you as a stress reliever in the most sinful ways for hours on end.

but then right after the walls would come crashing down again and she was back to kissing you like you could crumble at a moments notice, crawling into your arms seeking comfort and constant praise about how good she did, how much you loved her, how much you needed her and appreciated her.

"i'm gonna go take a shower." the girl hummed against your lips, pulling away and softly kissing your forehead, pushing her body off of yours. "yeah good, you smell." you teased, kicking her bum as she turned around, pulling yourself up onto the counter.

"you're lucky you're cute." alessia warned, smile tugging at her lips. "get your study in for awhile baby, i'm gonna wash my hair. and when i get back i get your full attention." the taller girl frowned with a slight pout which made you melt.

"someone's needy." you pouted back mockingly as she returned between your legs. "yeah and so what? i've missed you, been on my mind all day pretty girl." alessia confessed pressing her forehead against yours, pout deepening. "you're adorable." you grinned and booped her nose which scrunched up at the simple touch.

"tell anyone and i'll have to kill you." alessia warned, forming a gun with her fingers and pressing it to the side of your head, making a shooting noise with her mouth as she pulled the trigger, her forehead still pressed to yours.

the playful side she let out around you made you swoon, she wasn't like this even around her family and it brought you a sense of pride that you created a space where she was comfortable to be whoever she wanted.

"go study, book worm." with that she pulled away, blowing out and holstering her finger gun with a wink and retreating away.

"i'll say it again, god you look good in those dirty coveralls." you wolf whistled after her, throwing your head back with a laugh as she shook her bum at you with another wink before kicking her bathroom door closed with her foot.

~

"baaaby!" you heard your girlfriend yell out from her bedroom, glancing up from your textbook at the sudden noise. "yeah love?" you called back, scribbling down your notes as your glasses slid down your nose a little.

"can you come dry my hair for me, please?" you heard the hopeful tone in her voice and chuckled, flipping closed your textbook and standing up from her desk, padding over to her bedroom.

"thank you, i like it better when you do it." alessia admitted, stood in front of you with damp hair hanging down her back, her taller form clad only in a huge harley davidson shirt which hung down to her knees, heavily tattooed limbs on full display.

you perched yourself on the end of her bed as alessia settled down on the floor between your legs, arms resting on your knees as she handed you a brush, her hair dryer already plugged in and waiting beside her.

"have you got anymore booked in?" you asked, gently tracing the small butterfly behind her ear, the most recent in her ever growing collection of body art. "mm not yet, might finish off my moth first." she tapped to the half completed insect on her left knee.

"i wish you'd never bought that stupid gun." you mumbled disapprovingly as you brushed out the knots and tangles in her damp hair. "hey i'm getting really good now! you even said so the other day." her head craned back to look up at you, puckering her lips expectantly as you bent down to kiss her.

"that was before i looked up how common blood infections are with home done tattoos." you tutted as she faced forward again and you resumed your brushing. "i told you to stop googling anything that pops up in your mind babe, you're already a hypochondriac." the older girl chuckled, whining softly as you yanked on her hair for the comment.

"so no chance you'll let me give you one? so much clean skin to work with." alessia sighed longingly, tattooed hands squeezing your bare legs making you roll your eyes. "you've a better chance of getting me on that death trap of a bike." you teased, tapping her shoulders and holding out your hand as she passed you the dryer.

"no! its my time." alessia huffed as you tried to return to her desk once the two of you exited her bedroom, her now dry hair hanging down her back in waves. "baby i just have one more chapter to-" she cut you off with a kiss, closing your textbook and grabbing your hips, and before you knew it you were over her shoulder.

"alessia!" you laughed, reaching down to smack her bum as her shirt rode up. "oo this is new!" you whistled, pulling her shirt up further to reveal the black thong she had on underneath.

"hey you keep those hands to yourself!" the girl retaliating by smacking your own bum with her free hand before she dropped you down on the lounge. "oh wait here." she perked up, rushing off to her bedroom.

"put this on please." she held out a different shirt toward you. "why? i already changed baby." you frowned gesturing to the clothes you'd put on while she was showering. "that's mine, this is yours." your girlfriend replied, shaking the shirt impatiently in your face.

"so?" you pushed, knowing why she wanted you to change but wanting her to say it. "you know why, put it on and don't be a brat about it." alessia huffed with a roll of her eyes. "no, say it. you big ole softy!" you teased, kicking her as alessia dropped the shirt on your head.

"because its my favourite to sleep in and it doesn't smell like you anymore. happy?" the older girl mumbled as you tugged the material off your head with a satisfied grin. "very much so." you quickly changed, your girlfriend tossing the other shirt over her shoulder without a care making you roll your eyes.

"assume the position!" she shooed at you impatiently as you grabbed the tv remote, shuffling down to the end of the sofa with a smile, your girlfriend laying down with her head in your lap, her heavily tattooed legs occupying the rest of the sofa as her feet hung off the edge, which of course were clad in a pair of fuzzy black socks.

"what do you want to watch baby?" you asked pressing a kiss to her warm forehead, clicking into her netflix as your girlfriend shrugged. "anything you want gorgeous."

you browsed for a moment, alessia sighing loudly a few times to show she was becoming annoyed at the lack of attention you were showing her. pecking her lips a few times to hold her off you clicked into the proposal and placed the remote back down on the coffee table.

your girlfriend impatiently grabbed your hands and threaded them through her freshly washed hair making you chuckle. "are you going to sleep?" you laughed as you started to scratch at her scalp, watching her bright blue eyes close almost immediately. "no i'm just resting my eyes." the girl mumbled making you shake your head and press another tender kiss to her forehead.

within five minutes her breathing evened out and you glanced down with a soft smile, her ring covered fingers intertwined and resting on her stomach which slowly rose up and down as she slept.

your big scary guard dog girlfriend, the absolute sap she really was.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #52

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 15.1k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

"Ah, I don't know!"

Frustratedly sighing and rubbing your forehead, you give your friend a pleading look as if you weren't whining and sighing for the past ten minutes which eventually brought him to this door. Leaning against the door frame with arms crossed over his big chest, he shoots you an amused grin your way.

"Just pack whatever. I don't see how this is a big deal."

"It's not a big deal," you correct him. "Stop making it look as if I'm overdramatic." you scold him and it's this time that you hear a sigh coming from Jungkook, though his one is more subtle.

Still, you hear it and you narrow your eyes at him.

"Do you even know where we are going? I can't just pack comfortable clothes and then your mom is like 'Boom, we're going to the restaurant' or something. I can't come to Busan, to your parents house in a bag full of sweats and leggings."

"Why not?" Jungkook shoots amusingly, cackling when he sees your annoyed expression.

You hate when you're serious and he's just there making fun of you.

It's Thursday and you're supposed to go to Busan, visit Jungkook's parents as planned. To not sleep there for one night only, Jungkook wants to go on Friday (not that he has much choice considering his mother told him to come Friday before she hung up, not giving him any chance to protest). You don't think he would protest though. After the scolding he got for hanging up on her, she got back right at him and you're not going to lie – you had the time of your life when Jungkook told you about it after you came back from work.

Jungkook himself confessed that if he is going to his hometown, he wants to stay there the whole weekend, including the Friday – or as much as it's left of it since he's working on that day too. Either way, it wouldn't pay off to stay there for one night only.

"Stop it," you whine, "I don't want to overpack."

"Just bring something comfortable and then something nice, in case we go out. I don't know what my mom's got planned, it's hard to tell with her. Maybe we will be staying home or going to one restaurant but I don't think it's gonna be anything fancy." Jungkook finally offers you a good response, walking closer to you as he rubs your tensed shoulders.

It's not like you're frustrated by the simple packing. You're tired, luckily fresh out of shower and today hasn't been a good day. On top of it all you have to pack it now since right after you clock out of work, Jungkook is going to pick you up so you both can go to Busan. It sounds complicated, and though it isn't, you proposed not going to Busan with him.

You'd love to. You love Jungkook's family and well, his mom sort of invited you and it would be rude not to turn up after the call you had with her. Though you know she'd be understanding, you still don't want to risk it. You're sort of people's pleaser – just when it comes to some people and it's mostly people close to you or someone you care about at some point. Plus, it's not like you have anything important to do over the weekend and it sounds fun to get out of Seoul.

In the end, Jungkook refused your proposition and wouldn't want to hear about it.

"You're tense," Jungkook comments behind you, rubbing the place between your neck and shoulders as you sigh in delight. "What's wrong?"

"Just a long day," you explain easily. "Don't worry."

"Good," he chuckles softly, "Then finally pack something for god's sake."

You elbow him into his stomach, his laugh resounding behind you as you quickly fold the clothes that have been spread on your bed, putting it into the travel bag which Jungkook will take with him once he's about to come get you from work. He's going to be home earlier, so he'll get your stuff and make sure the apartment is all good.

"You're so fucking annoying," you mutter, trying to sound as annoyed as possible. "I don't know why I am voluntarily about to spend a whole weekend with you. I could've just stayed here and enjoyed the peace."

"Oh, come on," Jungkook snorts, "You'd miss me the moment I'd step out of this place."

This time it's your turn to snort as you toss the travel back into the corner. Turning around to face him, you cross your arms over your chest and lift your brow at him. "Get over yourself."

"Come on now, don't be like this." he says with a grin, slowly getting closer to you while you try to keep your posture and not let him see you falling apart.

But the moment the tip of his toes almost brush against your own and you're met with the clearest sight of his brown dark eyes, your posture breaks a little and your arms slide along your sides. Jungkook's lip twitches as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, the intimate touch causing your breath to hitch as he watches your entire face.

He is the epitome of how dangerous some men can be. You've been around men for a few years now. With having good-looking friends, let's say it's been a challenge. With knowing them and not crossing any boundaries, you can look back and see things differently now. However, that cannot be exactly said about Jungkook. He is special, between three of your friends, you've grown the closest to him. And sometimes you wonder how the hell you got into this mess. A mess you so shamelessly want to be in, if it makes you enjoy your time together. Whether as best friends only or as fuck-buddies who love to fuck each other's brains out.

Will you be able to go back to how things were? 

He is still your best friend and whenever you don't have sex, it's like nothing has changed. He is still the same Jungkook and you're still the same Y/N. Maybe that's the only thing that calms down your nerves whenever you spend your time overthinking or looking back at your friendship.

And now that he is standing right in front of you, all of it is brushed off easily.

"Horny again?" You press your lips together when you see his eyes snapping to yours.

"What do you mean again? We haven't had sex for a long time." he frowns, causing your lips to twitch and you do an awful job to hide the amused grin.

"Over a week isn't a long time." you point out, trying to sound unphased as if you haven't been thinking about his dick during the day.

"According to who? You?" he chuckles, cupping your face as he brushes his nose against yours.

You hate how weak you're already feeling, your heart in your throat, beating loudly.

"According to studies of Harvard–"

Jungkook snorts, lips curling into a satisfied smirk. "You're full of shits,"

He's so close and you wish you could hate yourself for how fast you hypnotize his lips with your lingering gaze. Once he notices his smirk deepens even more, innocently cocking his head to the side in a false act.

"But very well then. I will let you pack." he shrugs, stepping away from you as you stare at him with an indescribable look.

Jungkook presses his lips together to stop himself from laughing at your face, bringing two fingers to his temple as he salutes you. He walks away freely while you stand there with an open mouth and disappointment burning in your chest.

Fucker. 

The only chances you had to visit Busan have been with Jungkook. Not that there's anything to mind about that because the road is familiar and your brain automatically connects the scenery with him. Even the familiar buildings you've seen from the window of his car, or the stores you never visited in person – all of it reminds you of the times he brought you here.

Now, there haven't been many times you've visited this beautiful city with its own spark and uniqueness. This is your second time to spend the night here – all those times before were where you visited and came back home the same day.

Straight out of the work, you're embarrassed that you preferred to rest your eyes and listen to the muffled music of Jungkook's playlist, rather than admiring the scenery the entire ride. The Jeon family house looks just the same, bringing you back the memories you created here the last time you visited. It hasn't been that long ago but a wave of nostalgia hits you.

And the warmth of Mrs. Jeon's big smile as she opens the front door and spots her son makes you oddly emotional. The petite woman rushes towards her youngest son and crushes him in a big hug. The sight is both touching and funny, considering their size difference as Jungkook looks totally scrunched up in the hug, despite his mother being nowhere as tall.

When she pulls away and gives the loving and warm look to her son, she suddenly pokes him in the chest as she starts her set of scolding which makes you snicker while you take out your bag from the truck.

"Y/N, dear!" Mrs. Jeon turns her attention to you, giving you a warm and definitely less crushing hug, but it feels nothing but nice and welcoming. "Look at you! Beautiful as always."

"Mrs. Jeon," you greet her, feeling your cheeks getting hot at her straight-forward (and very kind) compliment. "You're the one who's beautiful here."

"Oh come on, I might be getting old but I'm not stupid." she comments with an attitude, waving you off as she sends you a grin you've seen somewhere before.

The 'somewhere' is the person who wraps his arm around Mrs. Jeon's shoulders, pulling her closer to his side as he gives a soft kiss into her black hair. "You're beautiful, mom."

"My son," she almost cries out as she hugs him again and you feel your heart clench, fighting back the tears. You don't even know why you're suddenly so emotional. "Don't think I'm gonna get easy on you though. Do you hang up on your mother? The woman who carried you for nine months? Yah!"

She's back to scolding him, Jungkook scrunching his nose in shame as he gives her an exhausted sigh. "Mom, we went over this. I love you and I'm here. Can you please let us come inside so the whole neighborhood doesn't witness you scolding an adult man?"

Snickering, you and Jungkook share an amused look as he takes your travel back from you, holding yours and his as well while you close the truck.

"Who cares about the neighbors," she mutters but still looks around to see if there are any prying eyes and ears which are common in a neighborhood full of houses. "You might be an adult but you're still my son."

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters, "Can we go? We're tired from the drive."

She shoots Jungkook a look before she looks at you and suddenly her face completely relaxes. She gives you the same warm smile, leading you inside the house where Mr. Jeon waits in the living room. The hug between a dad and a son is a great thing to witness once again and as soon as Jungkook's dad makes sure he greets you just as warmly, a sense of happiness and security washes over you. You would say it's the house you're in that makes you feel this way, but it's the people in it who do.

After the nice welcome and catching up while eating the delicious dinner Mrs. Jeon has prepared, the exhaustion from the whole day and the drive here catches up to you. You do your best not to start yawning and you slip a few times, sheepishly trying to hide the natural reaction of your body with your palm. But there's not a single thing Jungkook misses and he easily tells openly you're tired, ignoring the stare you give him. You feel bad.

Jungkook's parents have been so excited to see him, and they've been so kind that they always tried to include you in their conversation. Not even for a second you felt like an outcast while they caught up with their son. They asked Jungkook something and then averted their attention toward you, which is very kind of them.

"Oh, of course! You both were working today," Mrs. Jeon says as she cleans up the plates, Mr. Jeon helps her right away and you mentally coo at how compatible they seem to look. "The room is all ready for you dear."

You stand up to help her, thanking her as she sweetly shoos you away and tells you her husband will help her.

"Jungkook, you should take some fresh sheets for yourself. I prepared them for you in our bedroom."

You look at Jungkook, noticing how sour his face turns and you clasp your hand over your mouth to hide the snort, immediately reminded of the last time you were here and you were discussing the bed situation.

"You said my room is all ready." Jungkook comments, even though he knows what's going to follow right after but he's shameless, not hiding his displeasure of having to sleep on the couch for the whole weekend.

"Yah!" Mrs. Jeon tosses the kitchen towel, glaring at her son from across the room.

Jungkook's little teasing grin is not hard to miss at all, not even for his own mother who's ready to scold him all over again. A major deja vú.

"I was talking to Y/N. The room is ready for her, not for you. I hope you don't expect her to sleep on the couch."

"Mom, we had this conversation the last time," Jungkook whines like a little kid while Mr. Jeon presses a soft kiss to his wife's temple before he scurries away as soon as possible.

You watch the sight amusingly, silently admiring Jungkook's courage and non-existent shame – not even when it comes to his mother.

"Me and Y/N can share the bed."

"Yah, Jeon Jungkook!" She grabs the kitchen towel and is ready to smack the hell out of Jungkook while he starts laughing. "That is completely inappropriate and you know it!"

"Mom, it's just a bed. Have you never shared a bed with your friend?" Jungkook tries again, hiding the amused smirk as she huffs and tries to adjust her black hair a little.

"What do you think of your mother, huh?!" she exclaims, this time ready to pinch his cheeks but thanks to their height difference, Jungkook dodges her hands easily and hugs her instead. "You guys are a different generation, but under my roof–"

"Alright, alright," Jungkook laughs, pecking the top of her head. "I can respect that."

"How can you even suggest that? What about poor Y/N? Do you think she wants to share a bed with a mountain man taking up most of the space?" she asks, still with a scolding tone into his chest as her voice comes out muffled.

Jungkook looks at you, cocking his brow at you just as his mother pulls away slightly and waits for your reaction.

"You're right, Mrs. Jeon. I'm gonna enjoy his bed all to myself." you tell proudly, teasingly grinning at Jungkook who narrows his eyes.

"Our couch is comfortable, Jungkook. I don't know why you are so difficult about this."

"I just want my old bed," Jungkook pouts as she scolds him with one look but he doesn't budge. "Sue me for wanting to sleep in there and relive my old life."

"Then you should come more often." Mrs. Jeon's response is quicker than any of you can blink, leaving Jungkook with an open mouth as he frowns unpleasantly.

"That's not fair..." he murmurs with an attitude.

"You're not five, Jungkook-ah." His mother reminds him as you snort, Jungkook sulking as he rolls his eyes.

"I don't know how you women can be cold sometimes."

"You men wouldn't be able to live without us in your lives."

Her response is sassy, showing you a new side of her as you gape with open mouth before you start laughing. Jungkook's lips twitch as his gaze stays on his mother as he shakes his head in amusement.

Well, she wasn't exactly wrong.

As soon as Jungkook glances at you, you cock your brow at him in a silent "She's right". He eyes you up and down with a cocky glint in his eyes, tonguing his cheek as he remains silent. It's better to excuse yourself to go take a shower, quickly avoiding his gaze. But you still hear the silent but deep chuckle rumbling out of his chest.

He leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he stares at you as you retrieve yourself upstairs – his mother no longer engaging herself in the conversation as she starts casual conversation instead.

Jungkook waits a good moment or a few after the house quiets down, killing his time by browsing through his social media and watching random youtube videos. He checks the time, it's almost midnight. Though everyone went to bed a little later than usual, he knows it's caused by his and yours late arrival. His parents obviously wanted to catch up in person, enjoy him while he stays in his hometown.

His mother misses the fuck out of him but still makes him sleep on the couch.

Unbelievable. He scoffs silently.

He understands why. He wouldn't let you sleep on the couch anyway. He just loves to tease his mom and she knows it. She still gives him a reaction every time which makes the whole thing even funnier.

Jungkook is completely fine with you staying in his room. He might joke around a lot on the outside, but he believes he is a gentleman in these kinds of things. There's no need to blame her for not approving for you and him to sleep in the same bed. He knows she says one thing but he's not sure if she would totally mind. She's aware of your close friendship and that you're comfortable with each other. Nobody sees inside her head but he guesses she thinks of your friendship as a sibling kind of relationship. What she isn't aware of is that Jungkook gets to fuck the shit out of you and you're way past the sibling relationship.

Well, it's not something for her to know anyway.

You've been in Jungkook's life long enough for them to know you. Whether it's personally or from Jungkook's mentioning you whenever he talked to them about the most casual stuff. Obviously, they were aware of you becoming his best friend from the beginning.

Jungkook isn't too subtle by opening the door from his old bedroom, walking into the darkness and space so casually that it could be comical if there were any lights turned on. You could be asleep for all he knows but that proves to be not true when your deadpanned voice resounds in the silence.

"You can't be serious."

Jungkook grins, a breathy and evil chuckle leaving his lips as he practically forces his way inside his bed as you start protesting. "You thought you'd have my bed to yourself?"

"I can't believe we have to deal with this again."

"We don't," he says simply, annoyingly cuddling to one of the pillows. "Just shut up."

"I'm gonna tell your mom and she's gonna whip your ass."

"Do it and I'm gonna whip yours." he says casually and your mouth hangs open, a loud gasp leaving it shortly after.

Disappointed how excited those words made you, you shift on your spot as you try to find the right position. It's not like Jungkook's old bed is too small but you feel like with two people, not mentioning Jungkook's actual body size, it's not big enough.

You're not going to lie. You were kind of expecting him to come. His look back in the kitchen told you everything you had to know. His presence is comforting as always, even in this small ass – not big enough – bed. And you hate how much you enjoy just sleeping next to him. You're the person to move a lot, or more like stretch around in your sleep, so naturally you like your space. But with Jungkook, you don't mind even though he often used to scold you for elbowing him in your sleep or almost pushing him off the bed.

Though, your stubborn self won't let him have the satisfaction of you being speechless. Even though you've been for a moment now.

"You sound confident. You think I'd let you do that?"

"You've let me do it every time." he says right away, sounding pleasant by his answer as you roll your eyes, ready to pinch him in the stomach as he chuckles and cages your wrist with his fingers wrapped around it.

"Stop being so cocky. There is a first time for everything."

"Indeed."

He lowers his tone and you're about to question him, until he suddenly reaches and pinches gently your nipple. But the shock leaves you yelping though, slapping your hand against your mouth.

"What the fuck." you gasp.

"That's what you were about to do, huh?" he asks cockily, "Pinch me, right?"

"So?" you gulp, cupping your breasts with a frown which you're not sure Jungkook can see clearly, but the chuckle makes you think he probably knows about it.

And then he's hovering over you before you can blink, your mind going blank for a good moment when you realize the son of a bitch (no offense to Mrs. Jeon of course, it's just a phrase) is shirtless. You shamelessly want to rank your hands down his chest to his freaking abs because you know they are there. His weird interest in working out at any given chance is paying off for sure.

He doesn't look like a bodybuilder and his muscles aren't massive, he's perfect in all the right places as cliché as it might sound. He's fit and buff, just the thought of what he's usually hiding beneath the layers of his clothing makes you salivate. If you weren't nearly as attracted toward him, you're not sure if you would be able to go all this trouble for a couple of amazing rounds of sex. Amazing is not enough of a strong word.

Jungkook decides not to respond verbally and you have to clasp your mouth shut because he doesn't give you any choice. He latches his moisturized and soft lips on your neck and starts kissing you there, bringing new waves of pleasure and want. Only he can do that with a single touch. Just minutes ago, you were ready to fall asleep. Not anymore.

At the beginning of his never ending kissing and sucking, you think he's just teasing you because he has done a lot. You know he enjoys seeing you struggle and squirm. But you're also stubborn enough and you won't let him show how desperate you can get for him. Not always at least. You can be pretty needy and desperate – shameless. The man is satisfied to see you show your neediness toward him. Even though you're not a stan of women not showing her wants or making the first move, you secretly love when Jungkook takes the first move. You love to see him want you. You love to see him taking control.

But Jungkook doesn't stop.

His hand gets under your shirt, palming your skin there as you gasp into the darkness and silence. He plays with the hem of your panties, smiling in satisfaction at the realization that you're not wearing anything else besides them and the shirt.

"Look at you," Jungkook hums, nose brushing against your jaw as he gently bites you there.

You can't help it, you're already gripping his sides as you dig your nails into them.

"Wearing this at my parents house." he chuckles and hooks a finger behind your panties, just teasingly moving it right to left.

You don't bother to explain that you simply forgot, because you did bring pajama shorts and pants, in case it would be chilly at the house during the night. Who would believe you? Who forgets to put on proper pajama pants instead of panties? Either way, it would just cause more teasing from Jungkook and to be quite honest, you're already on the edge because Jungkook's parents are right down the hall.

Surely, he doesn't want his mom to find out he sneaked out into the room you're staying in. Or maybe not even that but the fact you're actually sleeping with her son and you're not just a casual and usual best friend. God, just thinking about his parents knowing makes you embarrassed. It's different when parents are involved. The Jeons think of you as this polite girl Jungkook is friends with. You are polite, but that's not even enough information about you.

"I might be wearing my panties but you're the one hovering over me." you remind him calmly, keeping your tone confident.

He brings his face closer to yours after your words. It would just take you slightly leaning in his direction to kiss him. And that thought is tempting.

"Don't act like you don't like it." he says confidently, not even thinking that there might be a small percentage of you not liking this. And he is right.

"That's not important," you gulp, "Just what you are about to do, Jungkook?" you ask straight away.

"Whatever you want me to do." he answers cheekily, putting some distance between you as he leans on his hands some more, not touching you this way but that changes.

He lowers down, the sudden chilly air hitting your exposed skin while he hikes up your shirt. He kisses your stomach. It's so soft that it suddenly makes you flinch and giggle, the tickling feeling causing you to scold him by muttering his name. He only chuckles silently, diving back in as he makes sure he puts more pressure with his lips.

You hate how your entire body accommodates to Jungkook's body, making sure both of you are comfortable in this position while he's between your stretched legs. You're so fucking weak when it comes to him, that much has been established a long time ago but still. You should be able to push him away and remind him there should be no funny business when you're at his parents house. But is it really that much of a big deal? The little devil on your shoulder asks.

"You really want to do this here? Out of all places?" you clarify silently, too close to whimpering when he pecks your skin just above your panties hem.

"Let me just make you feel good." he mumbles from between your thighs, your whole body heating up. It's becoming hard to keep your shirt on.

He clasps his hands around your knees and pushes them upward. Understanding what he wants, you bend your knees and in a second, he presses another kiss to your clothed core. This makes you audibly gasp, not expecting him to be so fast. You're aware of having to stay silent and there's still a part of you who wonders if this is the right time to have this kind of fun.

"Hm, what are you saying?" Jungkook mumbles, poking his tongue at your center as you whimper again, leaning yourself on your elbows as you glare at Jungkook. Not that he can see much but the sudden movement from you causes him to look up.

"You're gonna get us caught."

"Me?" he asks cluelessly, "You're the one making sounds." he adds cheekily and you almost fume, ready to argue.

"You're the one making me make them!" you exclaim in a hushed whisper-scream, causing him to laugh a little.

Chuckling, you feel him lifting his head while the warmth of his body makes your skin rise with goosebumps. You can't see his face clearly but you two would burst into laughter if you could see each other's faces. The want to laugh disappears in seconds when Jungkook sneakily finds his way between your thighs. The moment the pads of his fingers make contact with your clothed heat, you clear your throat shakily to mask the moans that want to rip out of your throat.

The single touch is enough to make you a mess. He traces your underwear with his fingers, the touch soft and teasing, before he starts rubbing you.

"Tell me to stop." he offers simply.

A silent scoff makes it out of your mouth as soon as he says it.

"Isn't it too late?" you ask, hinting at the wet mess between your thighs.

Jungkook chuckles though, pressing his fingers harder which makes you gasp. "It's never too late to stop."

This teasing shit... 

You swear, if he wasn't doing such a great job at delivering pleasure, you would smack the life out of him. You hate when people tease you in the most annoying way but Jungkook is on another level. The man knows you like no one else and he uses it to his advantage. Still, you find yourself salivating at your current position and his hand on your clothed heat.

"Did you bring condoms?"

You ignore the satisfied and deep chuckle that vibrates in his chest, pursing your lips in the darkness.

"Fuck, I didn't." Jungkook whines a little.

As disappointed as you are, you try to mask it by giving his naked back a few slow taps. "No sex then tonight, mister."

Jungkook rolls his eyes and cockily like always, pushes your panties to the side as he teases your entrance with his digit. You gasp, clasping your hands around his biceps.

"There are other ways, y'know."

"I know." you whisper, hating how weak you always get when something like this happens.

The pleasure shoots straight through you and you can no longer think, wanting to chase the pleasure instead. This always happens with him and it's a huge problem. Only because of how dangerous it is.

"Mhm, you do?" he hums, "Besides, we've got some new things to try as far as I can remember."

His tone is suggestive, a layer of implication which makes you almost choke on your unexpected spit because... is he talking about what you think he is?

As if Jungkook could tell the look of shock on your face, he chuckles deeply.

"Soon." Is all he says, enough to make you shiver.

"You–wait, you mean like–"

"Shhh, you're gonna get us caught." he hums teasingly, hinting at your previous words and you want to groan in frustration.

He's playing with you. He's lucky you have to be quiet or else you wouldn't get him off the hook so easily.

And then he goes back between your thighs, giving you a few teasing rubs with just two of his fingers. He manages to get out of you a silenced whimper that you couldn't swallow down.

"Behave." he says playfully, a little groan escaping your mouth before he retrieves his fingers.

You prop on your elbows as soon as he plops next to you, lying on his back while you stare confusingly. You're about to question his intentions, very much hoping this is not some sort of teasing or punishment, but you're stopped by the rustling sounds of him getting out of his boxers. He's lucky.

"Take off your shirt, wanna feel you."

Oh, no problem for you.

You pull the shirt over your head, your panties following right after as you sit back on your knees, staring at Jungkook with big curious eyes. You see the faintest glimpse of his naked form, kind of bummed out that you don't see him clearly. But your imagination does wonders, finding the scene in front of you hot. Both of you. Naked. In the darkness. It has its own spark, doesn't it?

"Come on, get on my lap." he spurs you, making himself comfortably between the sheets.

You stay frozen and confused, not really understanding what he is trying to do. But you trust him. He has to have some kind of plan.

You get on his lap, still balancing yourself on your knees as you allow yourself to feel up his abs and chest. He is warm and soft, something you've known but always feels nice to have his skin under your curious hands.

Jungkook pulls you in, catching you by your hips while his mouth clashes with yours. You hold yourself back from moaning, his tongue already touching your bottom lip before he shoves his tongue into your mouth in a heated kiss. It's consuming and hungry, yet sweet and you return every bit of it.

Jungkook's hard length pokes you in your belly button, wanting some attention and you would happily give it to it. You feel Jungkook taking his cock into his fist, giving himself a few pumps while his knuckles brush against your stomach. He's driving you crazy.

Bodies heating up, Jungkook orders you to sit on his thighs and you do. Is he making you ride his thighs?

And then he pulls you down onto him, your body moving forward while your bare cunt makes contact with his balls. You whimper into his mouth, your entire body shuddering at the contact.

"Sit down on it. Don't put it inside though." he encourages you, your eyes widening while you're trying to process his request.

You let out a shuddered breath, sitting upward as you carefully sit down onto his length. It keeps lying on his stomach, reaching his belly button while you carefully place your bare cunt at the base.

"Fuck."

You both curse at the same time, your hands crashing Jungkook's shoulders while you literally tremble.

Your wetness starts spreading over Jungkook's length, the bareness causing both of you to breathe heavily as if you were in the midst of this act. However you're only at the beginning.

Jungkook's hands made contact with your ass cheeks, hands gripping your ass a little before he's pushing you up his length. You rub against him, whimpering as Jungkook quickly chases your mouth to swallow down any sounds coming from you. Following his hands while they guide for the right movement, you're trying too hard not to come already. Fuck. Who would've said this could feel so good?

You actually feel him bare, the difference is that you don't feel him inside of you but that thought doesn't even cross your mind. You can't grasp the fact that you feel him, really feel him. The hard and warm skin. Even the prominent vein. His thick length separates your folds, clit brushing over every part of his cock.

As the pace grows and gets more stable, you're sliding along his cock, your wetness making slick sounds that are hard to ignore. Although, you can't miss the sounds the bed starts to make under your moving bodies. It creaks a little, your hips halting.

"It's okay." Jungkook breathes out.

"Won't they wake up?"

"No, just keep this pace. We should be fine."

Who are you to disobey?

You continue, putting a little bit more pressure and fuck... this reminds you of that time when you and Jungkook were having sex and you accidentally brushing against his bare cock. But this time, you actually get to feel it and there is no apology behind it.

Biting your lips harshly, it seems like you're going to break the skin's thin barrier soon if you keep this up. But you can't help it. Chasing the pleasure and Jungkook's hard cock that spreads your folds seems like the only priority right now. You're a mess, whimpering and breathing heavily while you keep digging your nails into poor Jungkook's shoulders. He doesn't hiss, nor makes other sounds that could indicate he's in pain. He must be enjoying this just as much as you do.

"You like that?" Jungkook asks silently and raspily. "Hm? You like feeling my cock?"

You both know there's not much freedom and time when it comes to words, but he just couldn't help himself.

He feels you getting tired, skin burning up while the mess between your thighs leaks down his length and balls. He knows you're close and fuck, you really are because a few seconds later and your whole body shudders, finally letting go off the knot in your lower stomach as it snaps and allows you to feel the real and much intense pleasure. You both cum at the same time, the familiar knot doing the same to Jungkook as the ribbons of white paints his stomach and chest. He bites his lips to hold back a groan, throwing his head back while his hands loosen on your hips.

You both breathe heavily, your thighs and legs aching while you take a moment to calm down.

"Have you ever done this before?" you ask, voice breathy as you slowly lift yourself up. God, you both made such a mess.

Jungkook sits down, scrunching his nose at his cum all over his stomach and chest. "No."

"You haven't?" you ask surprisingly, whispering as you stand up and reach for the napkins on the nightstand.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" he chuckles, "I never had to find a way around raw sex before."

That makes sense...

"Did you like it?" you ask, handing him the napkins before he thanks you and starts cleaning himself while you do the same.

Jungkook snorts in response and you frown in confusion. "Would I cum if I didn't like it?"

"Touché." you mutter and he laughs silently.

He stands up, grabbing the wet and messy napkins from your hands. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple which you find oddly comforting and surprising at the same time.

You look at him in the darkness, but you can't really see his features. "I will take care of this." he says and holds the napkin in the air for a second.

You realize he must've put his boxers on while you were cleaning yourself as you watch him retrieve his way out of the room. You take the time to dress up, nervously making your way to the bathroom right after to properly clean the mess between your thighs and empty your suddenly full bladder. You could really use a shower but there's no way you could do that without waking everyone up. You can't risk it.

So you go back to the bed once you're done, smelling Jungkook on the sheets while the scent is more intense than it was yesterday.

Last night feels like a dream, at least for a moment after you open your eyes to be met with sunshine peeking through the curtains. Bed all for you, you find yourself touching the space between you to be met with cold sheets. Jungkook must've stayed in the living room which is for the better anyway.

The memories of last night make your lips stretch automatically. You can't believe you did that! It feels like a major thing that has happened. In reality, it might not be a big deal and there's no reason to go crazy over it, but you can't help but feel excited because you tried something new and you freaking loved it. Everything about it.

The whole thing was so hot. From having to stay silent to having one of the best orgasms and feeling Jungkook like that. You've also never done that before with anyone else, so it's ten times more exciting and new. But now that it's morning and you should go downstairs to join the rest of the family, you suddenly feel... nervous you would say. There's a lot of what if's but you don't beat yourself over it. You just hope they slept well during the night.

As usual, you're the last one to come downstairs and join the others, finding them all perfectly synchronized with each other. The sight of them as a family preparing breakfast looks pretty casual, just like you usually see in the movies, but it's endearing nonetheless. They're all working together to prepare the breakfast. Mrs. Jeon cutting some more fruit while Mr. Jeon sets the table and Jungkook... still wearing his – what should be considered as – pajamas (even though you know that's not really what he wears to bed), is helping his father as he brings more bowls and plates to the table.

"Ah, good morning! Hope you slept well!" Mrs. Jeon notices you when she hands Jungkook the bowl of – oh my god, are those fresh strawberries? 

You greet all of them, smiling sheepishly as you offer to help but Mrs. Jeon tells you to sit down.

"I did, thank you," you smile, rubbing the back of your neck. "I'm sorry for sleeping till now. Hope I didn't wake up too late."

Mr. Jeon smiles at you which puts you a little more at ease while his wife just laughs humorously. "Oh, please, dear. Nonsense! We're happy that you slept so well. Sleep however long you want." she tells you politely and sweetly which makes you mentally coo at her sweetness.

You do not tell her that her son is the cause of your late awakening – he did a number on you.

You don't sit though and while Mr. Jeon disappears somewhere in the living room, Mrs. Jeon calls out to him to ask him something and soon, she joins him as well. You start helping Jungkook with dirty knives and cut boards, placing them into the sink. Aware of his eyes on you, you can't hide the little grin which finally makes him crack as a deep chuckle resounds beside you.

"Slept well?" he asks, standing behind you as he puts clean and dry forks back into the drawer cabinet.

"Cocky since morning?" you offer teasingly, suddenly feeling soft lips touching your neck while his hands squeeze your hips.

"Jungkook!" you scold him silently, trying to glance behind him in panic.

He cackles, pulling away. Once you truly look at him, you notice his eyes and face being still a little swollen as he looks sleepy. Besides looking cute, you find him hot with his shit eating grin he offers you and the slight cockiness hidden behind it doesn't go unnoticed too.

He leans against the kitchen counter, facing you with his arms crossed over his chest. You see the glint in his eyes that tells you to prepare yourself for whatever he's about to say. And your intuition proves to be right.

"Should I buy condoms today?" he asks, leaning even closer to you as his voice remains subtle and low.

You almost choke, "I can't believe you!" you laugh, punching him in his bicep teasingly as he laughs before straightening himself.

And then he wiggles his eyebrows at you, still grinning from ear to ear. "That wasn't no." he points out and you start laughing even more.

The approaching voices of his parents break the moment, both of you silently grinning to yourselves as Mrs. Jeon informs you of today's plan, beaming with happiness of finally having her younger son home again.

You can't remember when was the last time you attended a similar family gathering with your own family. Sure, living far away from them has complicated it and made it practically impossible for you to experience these things. You can't say you miss it too much. Family gatherings often equals family drama, which you're happy you're away from.

Of course, you do miss your family but you wouldn't change anything about deciding to leave your home country.

Your friends have definitely helped in the aspect of missing home, or like the familiarity of one. Everything would feel lonelier if you didn't have them and you often think about it.

You can tell how happy Jungkook's parents are to be hosting a little barbeque party. With Jungwon and his family coming soon, you're assigned to help Mrs. Jeon in the kitchen. She has a radio playing in the background, humming a soft tune to herself as she engages you in a casual conversation. She's marinating meat, a few packs of pork belly to Jungkook's loud wishes already sitting on the kitchen counter while Jungkook is with his father, trying to set the grill.

In the background, through the terrace door, you can see how serious they're being about their job and it makes you smile in amusement.

Mrs. Jeon takes this time to interrogate you about her son, which you find highly amusing as well. Is he sleeping well? Does he eat well?

"I know he's working out like crazy. He tends to get very serious about it, so I'm worried."

You giggle a little, not meaning to come out as rude but Mrs. Jeon simply glances at you with worried eyes.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Jeon. He does have a diet from time to time, but he can't live without this." you assure her, picking one of the packs of sliced pork belly as she looks at the item in your hand before her shoulders relax and she lets out a laugh.

"I know he's an adult, has been for quite some time," she says with a slight laugh, "But I can't help but be worried. He's not living in Busan and I know he's doing great–"

"Mrs. Jeon," you tell her softly with the same soft smile, "You're his mom. Of course you're worried. And it doesn't matter how old he is. Jungkook is happy to have you as his mom."

Mrs. Jeon smiles at you with so much fondness that it makes your heart warm. "You have to miss your parents too. I can't imagine if Jungkook lived in another country, it must've been tough for you and them."

She turns back to cutting the vegetable while you prepare a lemonade, squeezing lemons. "The beginning was," you admit.

You're a definition of a homesick person. You don't like changes and you don't deal well with being away from people close to you.

But you knew moving to Seoul is something you dreamed about for a long time. It was the biggest step you had to take in your life so far and you don't regret it. It's cheesy to say this, but everything comes with price. And your price is not seeing them as often as you would if you still lived back at home.

"But I'm happy here. And I've got amazing friends and people around me, that makes it a ton easier." you tell her while you share another smile.

"That's funny," she says after a moment, realizing something. "Jungkook told me something very similar when he first moved out."

"Really?" you laugh.

"Yes," she giggles, finishing preparing the meat. "He's very independent. Has been since he was little. Jungwon not so much, of course he's successful and independent now too. But we're always butting in whenever he needs help, whether it's babysitting our sweet Haru or something else. We just always remind him we are here, you know? Me and my husband enjoy our kids needing us. But with Jungkook.... He seems to do a lot of stuff on his own which isn't a bad thing. I'm proud of him. But sometimes that makes me worried, right?"

Your features soften as you throw the squeezed lemons into the bin. You wash your hands and almost pout when you see Mrs. Jeon warm gaze. She's full of love for her sons, it makes you emotional all over again.

Jungkook really is lucky to have her as his mother.

"That he must be going through some stuff alone. He would never burden us with his own burdens and that is the worst for a parent. When you don't know what he's going through,"

You gulp, trying to look casual. Especially when you know far more than his own mother, it does make you feel a little guilty.

"Anyways," she shakes her head as if not wanting to think about such thoughts. "He seems to be content... happy. I'm just overly worried about him."

You feel so bad for her. She has her doubts, it's like she knows he must've been through something. But you know Jungkook hasn't told her. Jungkook often told you his mother tends to get worried a lot, that's how she shows her love and god, she's a mother. Of course she is worried about her kids – no matter the age. It might seem like she's overreacting but that's not it. She loves them deeply.

"I can't talk for Jungkook," you start slowly, "But he's doing great. Don't worry. Me, Jimin and Taehyung look after him. We all do that with each other." you assure her, trying to make your voice come out light and happy.

That seems to make her relax and she lets out a humorous giggle as she shakes her head at herself. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I get so emotional sometimes."

"We women do that a lot." you joke and she joins with a laugh.

"Seems like they figured it out," she says, looking across your shoulder as you follow her gaze.

Jungkook and his dad look proud as they high-five, both laughing right after.

"We have a little time before Jungwon arrives with Haru and Sona. It's too soon to grill. Do you want to see some baby photos of Jungkook?"

One thing you love to do is look at old pictures. And baby Jungkook pictures? That sounds great.

"Sure." you smile, knowing Jungkook doesn't like to look at his old pictures.

"Oh my god!" you exclaim with a hand covering your mouth as soon as Mrs. Jeon pulls out a brown box, a worn-out album with the name 'Jungkookie' written on it, and opens it to show you the first pictures of newborn Jungkook.

She smiles widely at the pictures, probably has seen them million times before as she hands you the album for you to browse through it. In the meantime, she picks up another, smaller album while she flips through the pages.

"He was so cute," you comment, smiling at baby Jungkook who seems to be older in this picture, sitting in his toddler chair with a banana in his hand. "I can't believe he never wants us to see these pictures."

One time, you don't even remember who started it, but someone posted a baby picture in your friends group and that's how the train of sharing baby pictures happened. Jungkook was the only one who wouldn't want to post any pictures, whining how stupid that is. Really, you don't understand why because he was the cutest baby.

"He can be annoying at times." His mother waves you off and a snort leaves your mouth.

Your browsing is soon interrupted by the sound of the door opening, almost every picture causing you to let out a soft 'Aw', but you don't really give it much attention.

"What are you guys doing?"

Jungkook asks as soon as he finds you in the living room, taking a look at the both of you until realization hits him and he immediately starts whining with a pout.

"Mom!"

And there is the frown.

"What?" His mother shrugs, pushing another and a single picture of what seems like eight year old Jungkook your way.

Gasping, you completely ignore Jungkook while he plops on the spot next to you and groans loudly when he sees the photo.

"Oh my god, look at you!"

You know your reaction, a fit of giggles, isn't up to his liking because he clicks his tongue and looks uninterested at the photo in your hands. Jungkook looks like an emo kid, surely the haircut's fault and you coo at the most evident feature on his face.

"Look at your nose!" you coo, Jungkook throwing his arm behind you onto the backrest as he rolls his eyes. You start giggling all over again, hand pressing against his cheek as you bring him closer to your face.

Jungkook tongues his cheek while you give him a teasing smile. "This is embarrassing, put it away."

You and his mother share a look, while Mr. Jeon comes in and out as he starts preparing the food outside.

"You were cute, don't be like this." you nudge him in the shoulder as he rolls his eyes again at you.

"Yeah, my big nose and acne were really cute."

"Hey now." you scold him.

"You were the cutest baby and the most beautiful boy." His mother scolds him too, actually sounding offended by Jungkook's perception of his younger self.

"You're my mom, of course you would say that."

"And I agree," you butt in, "And I'm not your mom."

"You certainly aren't." he mutters while you narrow your eyes at him.

"Come on. You've seen my childhood photos. I was a chubby baby."

"And so was I." he scoffs before pursing his lips. Most babies are chubby to be honest.

"I had the most awful haircut, not even this," You hold the picture in the air to show it off again, "is that bad."

"Get that photo out of my face." Jungkook says with a frown and you snort again.

"We all have embarrassing pictures, Kook. Come on, you saw the photo where my head was extra large."

"Toddlers have bigger heads, Y/N." Jungkook reminds you.

Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips. "Well, mine was even bigger."

"You were cute. What are you saying?" Jungkook shakes his head. "Mom, do you always have to show my baby photos to everyone?" he whines now like a little baby as Mrs. Jeon waves him off.

You bite back a laugh as Jungkook huffs, annoyed.

The doorbell rings, interrupting Jungkook's annoyance and Mrs. Jeon ignores it, as she informs excitedly it has to be Jungwon with the rest of his family. She stands up, placing the other albums back into the box as she leaves to get to the front door.

You glance at Jungkook, finding him sulking which makes you giggle. Poking him in the cheek, you place the photo back into the box.

"You really were the cutest baby." you tell him and he hums, staring at his nails instead as you roll your eyes and kick him in the shin.

"Don't lie."

"I'm not lying," you laugh as you already hear Haru's excited little voice while she greets her grandmother. "Why would I lie? You were so cute, even with your big nose. I love it."

"You're annoying." Jungkook comments, narrowing his eyes at you once again as you try not to burst into laughter.

"And you were the cutest."

"Yeah?" he asks, his lips curling as he starts playing with the ends of your hair.

"Yeah," you shrug, almost shivering when the pads of his fingers touch the back of your neck. "I should probably look at this later."

"Like the hell you will," Jungkook clicks his tongue, "I will burn them before you can take another glance."

"Don't be so rude." you tease him, inching closer to him as he searches your face before his eyes drop to your lips.

"And if I want to be?" He arches his brow.

"You little–"

"Kookie!" Haru's cheerful and rushed tiny footsteps resound around the house, the sound approaching the two of you.

Jungkook gives you a little smirk one last time before he hoists up to his feet, already crouching down to welcome Haru's big hug and fit of excited giggles.

The sun is warming up your skin as a nice breeze winds through your hair. Mr. Jeon is grilling the meat, the delicious smell of barbeque filling the air along with Mrs. Jeon's blooming flowers. It reminds you of all those times where you used to have barbeque parties when you were a little kid. It brings you a nostalgic feeling but it doesn't make you sad at all. You're enjoying your time here to the fullest.

After Mrs. Jeon has proudly shown you her garden, her and Sona have started helping to Mr. Jeon and chat with him for a while. Jungkook is too busy fooling around with Haru, laying on the grass as he plays on an airplane with her laying on shins with outstretched arms and legs. Her giggles fill up the garden and it's easy to smile at the cute sound.

"Having fun?"

Jungwon joins you on the garden swing that you've been sitting on for a few minutes, enjoying the sun and lemonade in your hand. You tried to help but Mrs. Jeon shooed you away, telling you that you're their guest and you already helped enough. Knowing there's no point in arguing with her, you decided to just let everything sink in as you enjoy Busan's air.

"Doesn't it look like it?" you smile, his lips stretching to a smile as he laughs.

"Just asking," he shrugs, a can of beer in his hand as he takes a sip. "My family can be too much sometimes."

You look at him with raised brow, showing you your disbelief. "You haven't met mine."

He gives you both an amused and questionable look which makes you shrug.

"There's always drama." you explain with a laugh.

He snorts, "Isn't there always a drama in every family?"

"I guess," you nod, "But mine's on another level." you joke, making him laugh again.

You're trying not to stare too much, obviously knowing about his good looks. He looks good just like you remember. Although you're not some crazy woman who has a crush on him, you have to admit, Jungkook was right when he called you out on your previous crush. Well, it was never that serious as he made it look like. Jungwon holds a certain energy and is charismatic. And he smells nice which is always a big plus in your book.

You could say he got dressed up nicely, even though he's wearing a casual white shirt and shorts. Good looks definitely run in the family.

You two know each other, you could say you're friendly but you never really had any serious conversations with him. Actually, you're surprised he came up to talk to you, even though it shouldn't be such a surprise. He's probably acting nice because he saw you sitting here alone. Which you both appreciate and find a little uncomfortable. You hate when people pity you for any reason.

"How's Jungkook doing?" he asks after a beat of silence, meeting your surprised look as you can't help but blink a few times at him.

"Um, good?" you ask unsurely, "Why don't you ask him? He's right there."

Jungwon snorts, glancing away while his eyes scrunch because of the wide smile. "I do ask him but Jungkook tends to get private. I know you two are close, so you have to know more than we do."

You try to remain calm, not trying to overthink his words because there's no way he knows anything about you and Jungkook. Other than you're his best friend. Jungkook wouldn't tell him that, right? But as you force yourself to look into Jungwon's calm and warm eyes, you don't find anything shady or worth being cautious about.

"He's doing good," you answer, "I talked to your mom about it today. She's worried about him." you chuckle at the memory of their mom and her distressed face. She is cute.

"Ah, yeah. She is worried about everyone," he laughs and then leans closer to you as he whispers; "She's going a little overboard sometimes."

You giggle, glancing at your hand sitting on your lap as you play with the button of your long purple dress.

"I," he starts slowly, glancing at Jungkook as he plays with his daughter, a soft smile spreading on his lips while they still fool around. "I know he must've been through something. I mean, he broke up with his girlfriend. That shit hurts no matter what. He's not gonna fool me with 'I'm fine hyung', you know." he says while trying to imitate Jungkook's voice which makes you crack a grin.

"Jungwon, I'm not sure if I'm the right person to talk to you about this." you tell him unsurely, his eyes searching yours for a while before he gives you another smile.

"I don't mean to pry. If Jungkook wants to tell us, he knows he can. Whenever he wants to. I just know there must be something more to it since they were back together. They seemed happy, he seemed to be happy."

"Does he not look happy now?" you question, tilting your head in Jungkook's direction while his laugh reaches your ears. He's chasing after Haru who keeps giggling so hard that she almost stumbles. Jungkook scolds her and so does her mom, but Haru is having too much fun to even listen to them.

"No, I know he is. But you know... when it happened, he kind of distanced from us. I know it happened a while ago but he never said anything about it. I understand it must be a touchy topic to him. We all thought she's the one, I mean... he was so whipped for her. We could've genuinely seen them, you know..." he trails off, motioning with his hands.

"Yeah, yeah..." you murmur, trying not to roll your eyes at the topic of her.

It's not Jungwon's fault. He doesn't know the rest of it. He genuinely shares his perception as Jungkook's brother and what he knows.

"So it's weird they suddenly broke up the second time. Sometimes people are not meant to be together, I get it... but Jungkook acted weird, so we all were a little worried about him. Like I said, I don't want you to tell him or share something he wouldn't want to... I don't know, I guess I just needed someone to assure me my little brother is doing fine. Other than Jungkook himself."

Your features soften and you offer him an understanding nod. You squeeze his shoulder, wondering if you're not crossing any boundaries but he looks like he has needed it because he offers you another smile.

"He is much better now. Like you said, every heartbreak hurts. He distanced from us too for a while but we wouldn't let him get too far," you laugh heartily at the memories of you and your friends trying to get him to get his shit together. "I would say he's pretty much happy now."

"Good," he nods, "I'm glad he has friends like you. He doesn't share his struggles, never really has so that's why I was wondering. But I'm glad to know he's doing fine."

"He is, don't worry." you assure him and he smiles in gratitude.

"Yah, don't you have a wife to entertain?" Jungkook asks in a distance, the front of his hair almost falling into his eyes as he breathes heavily thanks to the chasing session he had with his niece. He's walking towards you and Jungwon, tossing him Haru's soft ball.

Jungwon snorts and catches it at the last minute, "Just catching up, Kook. I'm a married man, I wouldn't be flirting."

"Yah, who said anything about flirting?" Jungkook says, using his Busan accent as you hide your grin behind the rim of your glass. Slowly sipping on your lemonade, Jungwon gives him a look of disbelief.

The older brother stands up and pats Jungkook on the shoulder. "She is all yours, brother."

He walks away, Jungkook frowning at Jungwon's back before he sighs and joins you on the swing.

"What did he want?"

You snicker, "Just asked about you."

"About me?" he points at himself in confusion.

"Yeah, they're worried about you. Apparently you distanced yourself from them." you tell him carefully while his brows pinch together.

"I mean... I tried to fix that."

"I know, Kook," you assure him, "I think they know there's something you're not telling them. But they didn't want me to tell them or anything. They just wanted to know if you're okay and happy."

"That's annoying." he mutters as you laugh.

"Stop it!" you scold him with a laugh, nudging him in his shoulder as he offers you a grin. "They love you and care about you."

"I know, I know," he assures you, "I'm glad they gave me space and didn't question me about it. Maybe I should talk to mom."

"Only if you want to." you remind him and he glances at you. He smiles and nods in appreciation.

You sit there in silence for a moment, Haru wanting her dad's attention now as he tugs on his shorts while he's in the middle of conversation with her grandfather. Soon your own attention is directed to Jungkook, admiring the tattooed skin he's showing off today. You wonder if he's planning to get more.

His mother almost jumped out of her skin in surprise when she first spotted Jungkook wearing a short-sleeved shirt.

"Jungkook! How many of those have you got?!" She exclaimed once he shrugged off his sweatshirt.

"Don't look at me like that." Jungkook warns you, eyes already locked on you as you bring the glass closer to your lips.

"Why not?" you ask before you take a proud sip of the lemonade.

"Or I will drag you upstairs and fuck you properly this time."

The moment he says that, you're sure the lemonade goes through your nose as well as you start coughing. The rest of the family members turn in your direction and send you both worried and confused looks, as Jungkook shows them a thumbs-up with a bunny grin.

You pat your lips a little as you glare at Jungkook. He's lucky you're too far for them to hear. But most importantly, why the hell would he tell you something like that in the middle of a family barbecue party? It's not like you can act up on your actions right now. He's purely and purposely torturing you, living for catching you off guard once again. And judging by his proud and cocky face, he's happy about your reaction.

You straighten yourself, drinking the rest of the lemonade as you place the glass down onto the soft grass.

"You don't have condoms." you inform him, silently of course.

Jungkook snorts, "Who says we need them?"

Once again, he catches you off guard for the second time in a span of two minutes, and you clear your throat.

"You want it raw anyway."

You gasp, slapping his arm repeatedly as he cackles.

"Oh my god, look at your face!" he laughs, trying to catch your furious hands. "You really want it that bad, huh?"

"Shut up, you idiot." you sneer at him, pouting a little as he coos at you. Idiot. "I don't want it anymore. Not with you."

You sulk, crossing your arms over your chest as Jungkook reaches for your chin with his stupidly trying-to-act-cute act. You slap his hand away with a frown.

"You look beautiful today. Did I tell you?"

Fuck off.

"No, you didn't." you snap.

"I'm sorry," he whines, rubbing his head against your shoulder like a little cat. "I want it too, okay?"

"What?"

He leans closer, too close for him to be acting like this in front of his family but luckily, they seem to be too busy chatting with each other. Plus, they're turned to you with their backs.

"I'm gonna fuck you raw soon, baby. But it's not gonna be at my parents house. I wanna hear you when I do it."

He wants what–

You gulp, trying to act nonchalant as you scoff and shrug. He is serious, you know it judging by the look in his eyes but you can't stare for too long because you're going to crack.

"This is very inappropriate, Jungkook." you remind him.

"So were you rubbing your pussy against my cock not that long ago." he says with a low and silent tone.

You gasp, "That was your idea!"

"And you loved it," he points out, "Don't worry, I did too. Made me want to really feel you even more."

"Alright, I'm leaving." you tell him, standing up abruptly to hide your burning cheeks.

Jungkook cockily rests his arm over the edge of the swing, man spreads himself there like the finest piece of meal. Well, he is. But you would never give him the satisfaction to admit it at this moment. You take the empty glass off the grass, shooting a look at Jungkook.

"Don't look at me like that baby."

You roll your eyes, "Fuck off." you tell him silently so again, only he can hear.

He smiles tightly, suddenly leaning with his elbows against his knees. "You're lucky they're watching." he tells you, causing your breath to hitch as you quickly turn around.

He's right. You turn around and see everyone watching your interaction. Though, they remain unbothered as Mrs. Jeon gives you the honor to take the first portion of the meal.

The sun is settling down when Jungkook approaches you. You're inside, in the kitchen precisely, after Jungkook's mother said something about needing more ice. You offered before she could complain.

You've been chatting with Sona for an hour which ultimately got you to know her better a little bit. She's older than you, not by much and it's not like it's a problem, but you have a little respect and you're not usually the first one who approaches someone first. She's been nothing but friendly to you, even when you first met her and you know she's a nice woman and a wonderful mother judging from how she interacts with her daughter. Jungkook's and Jungwon's parents seem to adore her, and they all have a very close relationship.

What you mean to say – is that it felt nice to be able to properly talk to her and get to know her more, and not from Jungkook's words.

Which reminds you...

"Are you mad at me?"

You flinch as soon as Jungkook places his big hands on your hips, nose nudging you in your hair as he's practically glued on your back with his chest. Your body wants to give in right away, lean back onto his masculine body and make yourself sink into it comfortably.

Jungkook's got it wrong though.

You're not mad at him. Annoyed? You were but you're not really.

"Jungkook, somebody's gonna see." you murmur, scolding him with a hushed tone as you keep removing the ice cubes from the silicone mold into a glass bowl.

"Let them see." he says carelessly, causing you to leave the ice for now as you turn around with a scowl.

"Are you being serious right now?"

You're met with his eyes already on you, no sign of teasing or the usual cockiness. "I'm trying to talk to you. I don't care who's going to see at the moment."

"You're being careless." you inform him of his stupidity, though he remains unbothered while he offers you a single shrug.

"Are you mad at me?"

You roll your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling at the seriousness he's holding. He does seem worried and it's not like that's laughable, but you tend to laugh or smile at the most inconvenient times. Even if sometimes you are mad and yet, you still crack for some reason – even if you don't feel like laughing or smiling.

"I was just teasing you. Fuck," he sighs, "I didn't want to make you embarrassed or make fun of you–"

"Kook," you interrupt him, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. "I'm not mad. You annoy the shit out of me sometimes but–you know I kinda feel awkward about that specific topic."

He frowns, "But there's nothing to feel awkward about. I told you–"

"Yes, I know," You lift your palm up to stop him. "It's a me problem. But I'm fine, really." you chuckle at the end, his posture relaxing slightly.

He lets his eyes wander on your face for a moment, searching for any hint of a lie but all he finds are your genuine eyes shining under the kitchen's lights. "But you haven't talked to me ever since we talked about it. So I thought..." he trails off, suddenly looking embarrassed as you laugh.

"Sona was talking to me and I didn't have the time to spend some time with you. Besides, you were having fun with your brother and parents."

"You're right," He scratches the back of his neck, "I'm an idiot, I don't know why I thought you're mad, I just wanted to make sure."

You giggle, "You're attentive, Kook. Thanks for that. But stop teasing me you little shit." you tell him sternly, poking him in his abs as he chuckles amusingly at your effort.

"Now that's over... wanna join me?"

You give him a look how quickly he brushes it off, both of you snorting at it before you ask;

"Join you where?"

"Mom doesn't have enough beer, so she asked if I could go grab some for dad and Jungwon. She thought a six pack is going to be enough, apparently not."

"Oh, do I have to come?" you ask, trying to keep your face stoic as Jungkook glares at you and tickles your side.

You laugh, flinching at the ticklish feeling.

"Of course, you have to. You are attached to my hip."

"Hm, I don't remember that being a thing."

"Well, it is now," Jungkook says jokingly, features turning more serious now. "But you don't have to. I'm gonna just stop at the nearest shop, it's like a ten minute drive."

Jungkook gives you a smile and pulls something out of his pocket. It's his car keys, you realize he was most likely on his way but decided to ask you if you want to join. He salutes you and makes his way to the front door, but he barely makes a step as you call out his name.

"Okay, I'm going." you grumble, informing him you're just going to bring the ice outside.

Jungkook's father asks you if you could also buy the mini kids sausages for Haru. The poor little girl looked way more calm and a little bit sleepy. Though, it's not her bedtime or that late, her family members seem to take most of her energy. But not enough clearly, considering she's been asking for the sausages ever since you stepped outside to bring the ice and inform Jungkook's mom you're going with him.

"Got it." you assure Mr. Jeon, the older man crouching down to his granddaughter's level as he assures her he's going to grill her the best sausages. Her exciting voice fills the garden that starts to slip into darkness while Mrs. Jeon and Jungwon work on the lights.

When you see Jungkook waiting for you in the entrance room fully dressed, you don't fail to notice the satisfied smirk he has on his lips as you simply grumble;

"Don't say anything."

He doesn't.

But still delivers a loud slap to your ass as he opens the front door for you. His bubbly laugh resounds behind you causing your lips to twitch before they fully stretch into an amused grin.

By the time you reach the grocery store, you're too lazy to get out and in the end, Jungkook is forced to grab the items alone. He doesn't look like he minds at all, leaving you his phone as you go through his music library, listening to various songs.

You're barely on the third song when you see him leaving the store, items in his hands and you guess he didn't bother to take any bag. He looks very amused when you blast Candy Shop once he reaches the car, opening the door on the driver's seat.

You turn down the volume just as he tosses something on your lap, the rest of the items end up on the backseats. Looking down, you almost choke when you see a brand new box of condoms. Glancing at him, he barely gives you any attention as he drives out of the parking lot like he didn't just toss condoms into your lap.

"Seriously?" you deadpan, taking the box into your hands as you scan the new package.

One word catches your attention and you tilt the box in Jungkook's direction.

"Intense? What does it do?"

"Suppose to make sex better or something, I don't know." he shrugs effortlessly as you press your lips together.

"Are you planning to have sex in your parents house? I thought we went over this, last night–"

"Who said it has to be at their house?" he questions you, lifting one brow challenge at you as you open your mouth and close it shortly after. What is he initiating?

"What?" you deadpan.

"One word and I'm gonna pull over." he simply offers, the serious and casual tone he sets could make you confuse and actually make you consider if he's talking about sex at all.

But you're paying enough attention – too closely actually – that the rush of excitement this idea brings you is hard to ignore. How can you ignore it? You've never experienced as far as you can remember. No, you would surely remember if you experienced it. You can't lie – you've always wanted to try it and the thought of doing it with Jungkook is disturbingly tempting and exciting.

And as you watch him closely, driving with one hand while the other sits on his lap, his legs spreaded making his lap look even more inviting. The last night was perfect, something you've never tried before and never thought it could feel so good. It could easily even out with a proper sex. However, nothing's better than feeling him inside you and the small box in your hand is like the biggest treasure, reminding you of what could happen.

Jungkook glances at you, brow raised as he catches you biting on your lower lip in thought, his lips slightly twitching. You ignore it, sharing a look with him.

"The ride is ten minutes. You better think fast."

The proposition is already enough tempting and the way he says it, you know you're once again utterly fucked. The tingling between your thighs and how embarrassingly fast you got wet is no joke. It makes your decision faster and simpler.

"Fuck, okay, pull over."

Jungkook chuckles, satisfied with your answer as he takes a random turn. You've no idea where he's taking you, though he seems to be familiar with Busan streets even after all those years of not living here. The spot he finds is between two buildings, leading you to the dead end while you see a tall brick wall. Jungkook turns off the lights and engine, hiding the car in a dark and abandoned spot. You don't know why but everything increases the lust you're already feeling.

"Get in the back."

You don't hesitate to listen to him, though you slide your underwear down your legs before you do that, your slides abandoned on the car's floor. You toss underwear on the seat as soon as you lift your butt, shooting a cheeky smirk to Jungkook who grins. You're not surprised when he delivers a subtle slap to your ass while you're trying to get to the backseat through the console.

Jungkook joins you but he actually gets out of the car and walks to the back. He places the six pack of beer on the floor while tossing the stupid sausages onto the front door. You snicker, both of you laughing as he shuts the door with a soft thud. He doesn't waste any time cupping your face, connecting your lips together in a needy heated kiss.

Though it feels heated, it's not totally rushed and the pace is smooth and comfortable. With your hands on the hem of his sweatpants, he places one last kiss to your lips before he fully sits down and leans his back. Pulling them down to his ankles along with his boxers, you're already on your knees, ready for his sign so you can sit down on his lap.

You lift your long dress to your waist, gripping them in one hand in a messy knot before you toss a leg over his body. You grip his shoulders as he grabs you gently by your waist. His eyes admire your bare pussy for a moment, flickering to your face shortly after.

"You sure you're good to go?" he asks.

If you weren't so wet and eager, your heart would actually quiver at his thoughtfulness. It's a bare minimum and men shouldn't be praised for it, but with Jungkook you can't help but melt.

"I hope so." you joke, looking down to see him stroking his cock.

"No, no, no. No hoping, sit back down. I'm gonna eat you out."

"There's no time," you whine, gripping his shoulder tighter when he tries to gently pull you away.

He sighs, leaning his head back as he looks handsome as ever.

"Come on. Just fuck me so we can go back."

To enforce your want, you grind against his bare cock and fuck, you almost lose it all. The contact is very minimal but it leaves you moaning shamelessly, causing you to deliver a rough kiss to Jungkook's opened mouth. He closes it just in time, welcoming your kiss in a surprised manner.

"Fuck, baby," Jungkook groans, leaning his head back again. "You're making it hard for me not to fuck you senseless."

"Do it," you offer lightly, giggling at the look on his face. "Come on. You fucked me senseless many times before."

"You woman, you amaze me." Jungkook says, smirking at you when you raise your brows at him.

"Me? How?"

He reaches for your cheek and you think he's about to stroke it, at least the gentle look in his eyes indicates that much. However, he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, lifting the right corner of his lips.

"You can get so dirty sometimes."

"And that's what amazes you?" you laugh gently.

"Yes, because one second you're this innocent and shy Y/N and the next you're so blunt, ready to drool all over my cock."

You snort, "Don't get cocky, Jeon. I'm not drooling over your cock." You both know that's not true.

And Jungkook's smile tells you he knows it too.

"Yeah? You sure about that?"

"Mhm."

He reaches for his cock, grabbing it by its base before he slaps his bare tip against your clit. You almost fall like a house of cards, legs completely quivering. Oh god, he loves torturing you. 

He chuckles, deeply and raspily, and you swear if he won't stop, all your rational thoughts will be gone and you'll sit down on his bare cock.

"Wait–what is this?" He suddenly asks, sounding concerned as you open your eyes, not realizing you even closed them as soon as he touched you. And then he swipes his thumb at the corner of your lips. "I think you just drooled."

Your surprise drops as you glare at him, punching him in the shoulder as he laughs devilishly. "Fuck you, I didn't."

"You know, sometimes I want to ruin you. Like really ruin you." he confesses, though he says it with a smile and it's hard to differ whether he's being absolutely serious or he's just joking around.

"What's stopping you?"

"You're not ready." he answers simply and you snort.

"Please," you scoff, "Stop with this dominant shit."

"Huh?" he chuckles, "You're lucky we don't have time for this. Hand me the condom."

"Please." you clarify, crossing your arms over your chest with your bare core still hovering over his hard length.

He rolls his eyes, "Please." he mutters.

With a satisfied grin, you reach for the box of condoms and pull out one. After the silver package is in Jungkook's long fingers, he tears the foil and you watch him putting the latex down his thick and hard cock. You've watched him do that many times before, in fact you almost never miss it but it never gets boring. It adds just the right amount of lust and pleasure to the moment every time. Plus, Jungkook is incredibly hot putting it on so skilfully, with brows pinched in concentration with his jaw set tight.

He motions for you to get closer, sneaking his hand between your thighs as he rubs your bare sex. The slick wetness there is no surprise to him, neither you feel embarrassed at how quickly he can get you wet. He doesn't comment on it, rather pulls you by your waist closer to him. He gets a hold of his cock, slowly easing you down on it while you lower yourself.

As soon as the head stretches your hole, you gasp in delight while Jungkook keeps a concentrated look between your bodies, watching how he slowly disappears inside of you. The turquoise lights in his car just add to the moment, your head soon thrown in the back in full ecstasy as he stretches your wet and tight walls.

Jungkook grunts, leaving you two just sitting there getting accustomed to the feeling.

"Fuck, that feels so good." you moan, your clit pressed against his pubes.

"You alright? Doesn't it hurt?" He still finds himself asking.

You're not entirely stretched, at least you weren't before Jungkook entered you. But the slight burn and tightness just brought more waves of pleasure to your body.

"No, it feels perfect." you answer, chuckling as Jungkook joins you.

It feels awfully good to just sit on his cock, no need to move yet as you would love for the feeling to last longer. But you're reminded of your citation and you don't have exactly the time to prolong this any more than it's necessary. Though Jungkook doesn't seem bothered and gives you all the time in the world to get used to his thickness, you both know what the two of you are doing is irresponsible in more ways than one. But it's about time now and nothing else.

At first, you begin with rolling your hips to get accustomed to the feeling more. With hands still gripping Jungkook's shoulders, the dress seemingly pressed between your bodies, you love how his palms feel on your ass cheeks. He grips the soft flesh, urging you to roll your hips with more pressure as you both take a sharp breath.

When you gradually need to feel more, and you know Jungkook does too based on the way he's trying to control himself, you lean more against Jungkook's form and use his body as a leverage. You start setting a pace as you start bouncing on his cock, Jungkook's head still tilted back against the seat as he watches your expression twist into a pure pleasure. Mouth agape, brows pinched and the sweetest littlest moans escaping your lips – it's his favorite view when it comes to this.

In a way, it could be considered as luck to see you like this. To experience what you look like when he's deep balls inside you and your whole face is twisted in pleasure. He would never have guessed he would see you like this one day. Both of you would never have guessed you would be in this position at any stage of your lives.

Your ass and the back of your thighs meet top of Jungkook's thighs, the sinful sounds of skin slapping skin surround the car's walls.

"Oh, fuck!" you moan, pressing your forehead against Jungkook's.

He's let you have your fun but he needs more. Moving his hands off your ass cheeks, he moves them to your hips as he holds them tightly before he starts pounding into you. The whole moment is so freaking erotic. Even with you being on top, Jungkook is in full control and you can't help yourself, but stop your movements as you fully welcome his thrusts and control. You wish to help him badly but it feels so fucking good. You can't move.

"Jungkook, fuck!"

Jungkook enjoys your whimpers, focusing on his thrusts as his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth.

He feels you tightening around him and almost like with a snap of fingers, your body tenses as the orgasm comes crashing down on you before it fully relaxes. You keep clenching around him, knees digging into the leather seats as Jungkook's thrusts never halt until he snaps his cock forward into you. He cums with a low grunt, filling condom with his seed as he rides himself off the orgasm until he fully relaxes.

You get off his lap with a little help from him, collecting the dress at your stomach so you don't get it messy. Maybe it already is, fuck.

Jungkook breathes heavily, the tip of his hair clinging to his forehead as he rubs it with the back of his hand. He glances at you, chuckling as his throat bobs at the sound and movement.

"Fuck, that was awesome," he breathes out, glowing from the orgasm. "Let me grab you some tissues, they should be in the glove box. At least I hope so."

He's about to sit upward but you press against his chest, gripping his cheek as you confidently kiss him on his soft lips. He's speechless, looking confused and amazed like hell when you pull away.

"What was that for?"

You let go off his cheeks, smiling at the look he's giving you. He looks hot, amazed and cute at the same time. It makes you let out a soft giggle that you almost don't recognize. And then you swipe the corner of his lips.

"You're drooling, Jeon."

He frowns before his face relaxes, realizing what you've done as amused and deep chuckle rumbles out of his mouth.

"Who wouldn't." he responds cheekily, your face completely heating up as your stomach clenches excitedly at his words.

He laughs, satisfied at your reaction. Whatever you do, somehow Jungkook always wins. Even if he's the one complimenting and ruining you at the same time.

[jo-harrington]

Disaster Preparedness (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Maybe it's time to put a name to whatever it is you and Eddie are...but not without some misunderstandings first.

Previous Part: Peak Sales Hours

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Angst, Jealousy, Fluff, and a series of unfortunate misunderstandings with a sweet ending.

Note: A day late, but what can you do. This was sort of always a pre-planned part of the Store Manager Verse (and actually set at Christmas Time at StarCourt) but a very special prompt made me switch it up. So without further ado @allthingsjoeq and @bettyfrommars please consider this collection of Holiday shenanigans inspired by I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus my take on Prompt 14 from your Holiday Prompt Party:

You can tell that the mall Santa is a babe under that beard, and you decide to get closer to investigate.

With a little twist...

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

The holiday season wasn't Eddie's favorite, per se.

Just like Thanksgiving, it was a time to make do. Couldn't really celebrate when you were reminded of the things you'd lost or didn't have in the first place.

Still it had its high points. Cookies were great, having a little extra cash between Wayne's holiday pay and bonus and the handful of parties he'd be able to deal at, and let it be known that...Eddie Munson was a sucker for snow and always wished for a White Christmas.

And for his friends? Eddie would always muster up the Holiday Spirit and Christmas Cheer. A special one-off campaign for Hellfire, a potluck dinner with Corroded Coffin, and handmade gifts that he spent way too much time on.

This year...working at StarCourt brought its own spin on Holiday cheer and it was a little annoying.

If he hadn't worked the closing shift on the 30th, and seen all of the overnight workers and maintenance vehicles that rolled out of the service corridors as he walked out, Eddie would have thought that it was magic that transformed StarCourt Mall into a true Winter Wonderland come December 1st.

Because it was night and day.

Lights were strung around every store entrance, wreaths and garland hung every 50 feet from the ceiling, soap snow fell down from special blowers in the vents onto the food court, and the space in front of Montgomery Ward suddenly contained a special gift-wrapping destination.

And suddenly the mall muzak had a festive flair to it.

It was honestly kind of sickening.

He wasn't a scrooge or anything, it was just overwhelming and appeared all at once. And after how overwhelming Black Friday had been, how was anyone supposed to cope with the bright lights, large crowds, and repetitive music? He intentionally started turning the shop radio to a higher volume to drown out the bells jingling and carols mingling for the next few shifts after the decorations appeared.

"It's Holidazzle," you told him as he leaned against the entryway to your store--"the conversion Eddie, for God's sake!"--and watched you hang a special banner in the window, featuring the Gift of Piercing and cartoon bears ice skating around a tree.

"It's overkill," he argued.

"It's Mall Life." You climbed down from your ladder and surveyed your work with a critical eye. "You get used to the big everything that is Christmas and just deal with it, and then, come January, it all dies. We're decorating today, and next week we start wearing reindeer antlers on the sales floor. It just is what it is. Gotta get the customers into the festive spirit so they buy more before it all tapers out.

"Surprised Kyle isn't already wearing like...a Santa hat and a cheesy sweater with ornaments hanging off it or something."

And Eddie wasn't sure if you were somehow clairvoyant or just knew his boss well enough, but that's exactly what Kyle wore to his next shift and, indeed, every shift for the remainder of December.

Santa hats in every color--and he'd bought hats for everyone else in the store--and if there wasn't a Santa hat, there was tinsel in his hair. A piece of glittery garland strung around his neck and a mug full of cocoa constantly present in his hand, even when he was on the sales floor. And, somehow, a different cheesy holiday sweater on every single shift he had.

Where did he even get them?

"Listen," he clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder and shoved a candy cane in his hand. "I know you're Mr. Non-Conformity, but in this instance, you just gotta go with the flow. No one wants to give their money to the Grinch. But Jolly Old Saint Kyle? He's who they're trusting for their Christmas Gifts. You catch me?"

---

So Eddie tried.

He did. He tried.

For all of 3 days.

He wore the hat, he played the game, he did his spiel about gift certificates and BOGO, and he didn't even get a treat at the end of his shifts because you worked the opposite schedule from him. With school and all it was hard...

He just wanted to kiss you. Was that too much to ask for? It wouldn't be the most romantic place but he figured that he could set out some mistletoe by the baler and trick you into a festive smooch when you took the cardboard out. He could do that now, except he couldn't.

...but Wednesday night you'd both be closing. You'd swapped shifts with Mindy two weeks in a row so you could go to his show last week and she could go to her kids' Christmas Recital at the elementary school this week.

He definitely planned to make his move and get his reward. And give you a little reward of your own, seeing how hard you'd been working too. He wondered if this might be the chance to officially ask you to be his girl. Everyone had already made the assumption the two of you had been dating for months...why not put a name to it? And then he could take you out on a real date.

What could possibly go wrong?

Famous last words.

With a few minutes until his fifteen, anticipation building...Mike and Dustin ran into Tape World, looking out of breath and nervous.

Eddie was finishing up a special order for a customer when he saw them out of the corner of his eye. Little assholes, lurking by the door. Mitch had tried to walk up to them and give them the spiel but they waved him off.

"We're here for Eddie."

Great. This better not be about one of them missing Hellfire on Friday.

"What do you want?" he huffed, trying to be a little patient with them since it was the holidays after all. He picked on them enough at school. "It’s busy tonight."

"Well," Dustin shifted. "We were coming to see the new Ewoks movie--" Eddie snorted and grinned at them fondly. "--and we were just killing some time, when we passed by Mom's store."

Eddie couldn't help the bark of laughter he let out with that one. He told the guys to cut it out, this...continuation of calling you Mom since Halloween.

"You guys gotta stop calling her that," he scoffed. "Steve Harrington's your Mom. Get that straight."

"Well then Mom is upstairs right now flirting with not Mom," Mike sassed, hands on his hips.

Now that gave Eddie pause. Harrington? Upstairs with you?

Flirting?

“Kissing.”

Kissing?!

"What?" Eddie's voice broke a little as he reacted. He chuckled to try and alleviate some of his own nerves. "Isn't Harrington dating someone? Pretty sure I've seen him running around with that cashier from KB Toys."

"Well it was Wicks'n'Sticks."

"But we think they broke up!" Mike piped up. "Because Steve quit Scoops last week."

"Which means we need to pay full price for movie tickets again," Dustin nodded.

"But Nancy said that Robin told her…that he got a job at Santa's Workshop," Mike thumbed over his shoulder. "And we just saw Santa upstairs with Mom and she was wiping strawberry lipgloss out of his beard."

The first thought in Eddie’s head was that you didn’t wear strawberry lipgloss.

The next was that you didn’t wear strawberry lipgloss when you kissed him. What if you wore it for Steve?

No, that was ridiculous.

But unless Santa’s Workshop was operating as a functioning kissing booth and Harrington was looking for a quick and easy fix for a bunch of housewives smooching him after their kids asked for a new bike or Hot Wheels racetrack or Tina the Talking Tabby doll…there was no explanation.

Which, alright, Eddie wouldn’t normally consider himself a jealous person. An envious person. Yeah, he might have seen a little green at the edges of his vision when the kids fawned over Steve Harrington time and again, but ever since he was brought down a few pegs—humbled—he didn’t seem like the same old douchebag from Hawkins High that he used to be.

Eddie might even say Steve was kind of alright.

But you were his girlfriend…or something…

And the jealousy and possessiveness he often mocked others for over the years, as he watched meathead jocks tighten their arms around their girlfriends shoulders as he simply walked past, suddenly overcame him.

“Mitch I’m taking my fifteen!” He called towards the back of the store and strutted out of Tape World, all while Mike and Dustin called after him, fully intending to get to the bottom of this obvious misunderstanding.

---

He planned to ask you about Harrington the moment you opened the door to the loading dock, hauling the dolly of cardboard boxes behind you.

A simple "hey sweetheart, how was your day, anyone named Kris Kringle come to bother you?" and he would have had his answer and all of his doubt would have been alleviated once and for all.

Except that as soon as you appeared--with your disheveled hair and makeup, your slumped shoulders, and your groan of weariness--your eyes got brighter and you melted at the sight of him. So happy to see him, so relieved.

Then he melted.

"God, what a night," you groaned and let the dock door slam behind you. You abandoned your cardboard and walked right into his arms where he was standing by the baler; your arms wrapped around his waist and your face nuzzled into his flannel, just the way he constantly craved. "Some lady wanted an individual gift receipt for every single item she bought. Then Chrissy almost messed up this kid's piercing. Thank God I stopped her as soon as I saw."

"Oh yeah?"

"And then I swear I'm like...I just have one of those faces where everyone comes and complains to me as they're shopping. I have to hear about everyone's life story or their relationship issues, especially this one guy..."

Eddie's ears practically perked up at that.

"This one guy?" he urged you to continue, on the edge of his proverbial seat.

"I dunno," you sighed tiredly. "Not the first time he's come to me for advice. He's a nice guy and he means well, but it just seems I'm always the one. And I'm happy to help just...not during Q4, you know? He needs to figure out how to talk to his ex on his own. And not just...come in looking for extra glossy strawberry lip gloss thinking he's gonna kiss his way back into their good graces."

Extra glossy strawberry lip gloss.

Eddie wondered if he was pushing his luck if he were to ask if this nice guy was dressed in a Santa suit.

Still his heart soared nonetheless. He should have known that it was nothing to worry about, that those little shits just put two and two together to make five, and that mom wasn't actually kissing Santa Claus.

It was just a misunderstanding.

"How was your night?" you backed away from him slightly to look into his eyes. "I feel like I haven't seen you in days."

It was like a weight on his chest had been lifted, as he stared into your sparkling eyes.

"Same old, same old," he chuckled away the doubt. "Probably worse because no one knows what they want to give as gifts for Christmas and they're not listening to me."

"How dare they not take the advice of the great God of Music!" you feigned outrage.

"Gonna give me an inflated ego, sweetheart."

"You mean you don't already have one?" you teased.

Whatever fleeting bits of doubt remained disappeared as his fingers found your sides and he tickled you as punishment for the jab. Even more so as you grabbed his face and kissed him to get him to stop.

---

You'd spent the remainder of your break on Wednesday night softly kissing on the loading dock. You held hands as he walked you back to your store. Then once the mall was closed, you continued the kissing against the side of his van in the employee lot as the rest of the cars disappeared one by one.

With one last kiss goodbye, you agreed to Christmas movies and cocoa at his place on Sunday.

But as he sauntered into the mall on Sunday morning, twirling his lanyard on his finger as he headed to Tape World, Eddie swore that the universe was mocking him--

Or it was just that trademark Munson Bad Luck.

--because with a quick glance up towards your store, he saw you, holding the gate up with one arm, talking and laughing with someone conspicuously dressed in a Santa suit.

Well, he couldn't really see the holly jolly bastard that was up there making you smile, but just a quick glimpse of red velvet and white fur and all of his doubt was back.

The two of you still hadn't put a label on your relationship yet. He'd wondered the other night as he drove home if it was a little juvenile to want to call you his girlfriend. Was it too high school? What did a real life, grown up boyfriend do? He only had TV shows to go by and he figured you'd laugh if he tried to give you his '84 class ring that was stashed in his sock drawer. In fact, he was sure of it.

But how was he supposed to get past the visceral need to be your boyfriend when you were up there being wooed into potentially becoming the new Mrs. Claus yourself?

By Santa Harrington no less.

The doubt was back with a vengeance.

Kyle--decked in red onesie pajamas, butt flap and all--clocked his woes as soon as he walked into the store.

"Don't tell me she broke up with you," he guessed as he counted up the registers for the day. "I know it's not the end of the world, but you guys barely got started. What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Eddie answered honestly as he restocked the front display.

"Hmmm, actually come to think of it, that might be exactly the point."

"I don't think we were ever together, if I'm being honest."

"Dumbass," Kyle chuckled under his breath. Eddie, exasperated and just needing someone to commiserate with, explained the whole thing to his boss, who simply ate it up like a gossiping housewife and then laughed louder. "No seriously, you're a dumbass. This is the Mall at Christmas, dude. You're gonna start going cross eyed if you're looking around every corner for a suspicious Santa Claus flirting with your girl.

"Why don't you save yourself some heartache and just talk to her. You know, like you should have been doing this whole time? So, one time only because you're my buddy, I'm letting you take an extra break so you can go up there and talk to her."

And Eddie knew Kyle was right: it was all about communication.

Communication, or the lack thereof, was how the two of you had gotten this far, right? You'd known each other since May? June? And had only figured out that there was some mutual attraction in...what? September if Eddie was going to be honest with himself. Two weeks ago if he wasn't.

Lack of communication, caused by self doubt and fear, cost him...months...of getting to kiss you and hold your hand. And while he cherished the time spent being your friend, he was always gonna wish he had all that time being more.

So no, he shouldn't let it draw out much longer.

---

Unfortunately, he really was a dumbass.

So instead of taking advantage of it being so early in the day that there were practically no customers in the mall to go upstairs and clear things up with you and maybe ask you out on a real date...

Eddie booked it across the mall to Santa's Workshop.

There he stood, wasting his extra break in line with the handful of proactive parents coming in early to get their family pictures with the Big Man himself.

"What's on your wish list this year?" A little boy in a tiny navy suit tugged on the leg of his jeans and asked him.

"Uh..." He was at a loss when it came to kids and his hands wrung around his lanyard. But he couldn't just leave the little guy hanging. "A new amp...and maybe a Skeletor action figure."

The boy's eyes got wide and blabbered on about his desired Castle Greyskull while his mom ran a comb through his hair.

"Eddie?"

Eddie froze and his attention shifted from the kid, up and up green velvet clad legs then torso, to a familiar cherubic face and tousled curls covered by a pointy hat.

"Gareth?" he chuckled, staring incredulously at his friend dressed as one of Santa's Helpers. "...what is this? I didn't know you..." his eyes slid down to the little boy, then back to his friend. "...were an elf."

"I was trying to keep it under the radar," he shrugged and gestured down to his costume. "Especially since they have me dressed like this. Uh....anyway, why are you in line for Santa?"

"Uhh..." Eddie scratched the back of his neck then folded his arms across his chest. "Gotta get my wishlist in before all the good gifts are taken."

Gareth narrowed his eyes in suspicion and Eddie hoped that he would just chalk it up as another one of the million things he'd seen Eddie do over the years of their friendship.

"Can I keep the picture?" Gareth finally asked mischievously. "Or was Wayne planning on sending out a special card this year?"

"Nah man," Eddie nodded, grateful not to have to answer any more...invasive questions. "It's all yours."

"Nice." Gareth held his fist out for Eddie to bump and then let the family ahead of Eddie in to see Santa.

Which meant he was next.

Now, Eddie wasn't big on confrontation, so unless he was actively thwarting bullies and deterring them from picking on his friends, he wasn't the type to pick a fight. He also wasn't the type to have a calm and rational discussion and get to the bottom of a problem either.

So this was new territory for him.

What would he say?

What could he say?

"Now listen here Harrington," he muttered. "You...she...I..."

He ran a hand over his face and shook his head.

"I heard you're having some relationship issues," he tried again. "But you can't keep sniffing around my girl. My girl? Ugh...but what if she isn't."

There were a few flashes of a camera and by that time, Gareth was back to lead him to his execution.

"Alright, young man," he snickered. "Are you ready to meet Santa?"

"Shut up," Eddie shoved him and stalked along the carpet into the little photo area.

He was too preoccupied with the task at hand, too consumed with thoughts of you laughing with Steve Harrington and exactly what he was gonna say, that he didn't notice that it wasn't Steve under the beard and hat until he plopped himself directly on Santa's lap.

Santa groaned as Eddie settled himself and threw an arm over his shoulders.

"Aren't you a little too old for this Munson?" Santa deadpanned. "Or is this one of your little Hellfire pranks."

Eddie froze at the familiar voice, as years of hearing that grumbling gritty tone at Benny's and the police station and around town flashed through his memory.

"Hop?" he whispered in horror.

"Who were you expecting?" Hopper grunted.

"Why are you Santa?"

"...don't tell me you thought Santa Claus was real, kid?"

"No, I just--" Eddie stammered, looking for the right words. "I...Why?"

"I'm doing this to surprise Jane," he explained in exasperation. "Buddy of mine runs Santa's workshop and Joyce said she'd bring the kids to the mall today, maybe get a picture. So I pulled some strings. I don't know what to get her for Christmas; she's keeping her wish list under wraps."

It all started making sense for Eddie. Jane was friends with Dustin and the others so he'd seen her around Hawkins High, even though she wasn't interested in DnD. She was a good kid, if a little shy. Of course Hop was doing this for his adopted daughter, wanting to give her a perfect Christmas.

"But you...were up at Claire's earlier?" Eddie narrowed his eyes, the reason for him being there still eluding explanation.

"Because that's Jane's favorite store. I swear I'm single handedly keeping them in business with the number of earrings and scrunchies I buy every week. The manager promised she'd keep an eye out if Jane and Joyce popped in today, let me know everything Janie was looking at if this ended up being a bust."

Hopper shot Eddie a pointed glare and Eddie, correctly, looked ashamed of himself.

"Alright, less talking," the elf at the camera rolled their eyes and waved for Hop and Eddie to scoot closer. "More smiling. Say jingle!"

There was a flash and a polaroid was shoved into Eddie's hand as Hopper shooed him away.

---

"What is this?" you pulled away from Eddie's soft, warm lips as your hands felt something foreign in his back pocket.

The Year Without Santa Claus wasn't the most romantic Christmas movie, but Eddie was feeling a certain type of resentment when he had chosen the movies at Family Video, and it was mostly going ignored in favor of cuddling and kissing and sweet words.

Until your hands worked their way downward to pull Eddie's weight further into you, and you found--

"Did you go take a picture with Santa?" you giggled as you inspected the Polaroid. Eddie groaned and rested his head on your shoulder. "Can I keep this?"

"Believe it or not," he sighed, "Gareth already has dibs."

"May I ask why?"

"Because he likes to ruin my life. Pretty sure he's gonna take it to Fox Photos and get it made into t-shirts."

"No, why did you go take a picture with Santa silly," you shoved him. "It's really sweet."

He turned to look up into your eyes, to get the courage to just...tell you how silly he was being...to ask you out for fuck's sake...but the way you looked at him, the softness of your gaze, the way you reached out and pushed his bangs out of his eyes...he didn't want to ruin it all.

"I promised I was getting into the holiday spirit didn't I?" he shrugged pathetically. "Couldn't let the opportunity pass without getting photo evidence."

You stared fondly at the picture for another moment and then pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"It's perfect."

---

After Eddie had chickened out, you planned your get-togethers for the rest of December.

Or rather, the lack of them.

With finals coming up and the semester coming, and then mall hours getting later and later the closer to Christmas it got, the opportunities to hang out became sparse.

The best the two of you could unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it--come up with was Christmas Eve.

You'd fight off those final last-minute holiday shoppers, and come 6pm when the mall closed, you'd both be off to Benny's for the special pot roast dinner that he put up for anyone who didn't have family to go to, or didn't want to go see the family they had.

With Rick out making the rounds, and Wayne scheduled for that sweet time-and-a-half holiday double most years, Eddie usually ended up at Benny's anyway.

This year, with you, it would be perfect.

He just had to get through the next few weeks without a hiccup.

The universe, once again, decided to test him.

Mock him.

It was almost comedic at this point.

Santa was everywhere.

Of course, he would be, it was Christmastime but...everywhere in relation to you.

Thankfully, it wasn't Harrington he needed to worry about.

However, that meant it wasn't just Santa he needed to worry about.

It was all of the mall Santas.

Hop had shown his face in the red suit and beard once or twice more and scared the life out of him. Especially when Eddie walked smack into him on the way to drop an Orange Julius for you on the night you closed.

The church's community choir had spent one Saturday afternoon caroling by the Sears, all dressed as Santa Claus. As the two of you made your rounds window-shopping and chatting on your break, one of the Santas grabbed you and spun you around in a circle during a jazzy rendition of The 12 Days of Christmas where you, apparently, were the true love bestowing the many gifts.

How Eddie let a bunch of Santas serenade you before he got a chance to, he would never know. Nor would he let himself live it down.

And then one awful day, he found you sitting at your usual table in the food court with a charismatic older man in a Santa suit--sans hat or beard. The man sat in Eddie's usual seat and leaned quite close, making you look entirely uncomfortable; he couldn't help puff up his chest to ward off the intruder by the time he reached the table.

"This is Henry," you introduced as politely as you could. "He's gonna be the manager at the new Spencer's store when it opens in January."

"Figured I would do the neighborly thing and just say hi," he chuckled and looked down at his attire. "Oh? This? Figured that this would be a great way to do something nice for the community in the mean time."

"That's great," Eddie sniffed judgmentally, getting a weird feeling about this Henry. "Nice to meet you. You're in my spot though."

"Eddie!" Your eyes went wide and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter.

"Hey, nope, totally get it," Henry held his hands up and stood from the seat. "Those lunch breaks are short, especially when you want to spend them with friends and not a stranger like me. Nice to meet you guys. See you around."

Eddie dropped into his seat and you waited until Henry was well out of earshot to scold him.

"That was not nice."

"I'm not nice," Eddie grumbled. "He was looking at you weird, like he wanted to steal your soul or something. Did you not get creepy stalker murderer from him?"

"No, I totally did," you nodded. "He was like...dead behind the eyes. I know, that's awful to say. Anyway, are you feeling soft pretzels and cheese because I--"

"Are you a Santa magnet or something?" Eddie interrupted you and you looked like a deer in the headlights.

"What?" you giggled. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "Seems like they're just always around."

"It's Christmas, Eddie," you frowned in confusion. "Even I have a little Santa dress that I'm gonna wear to work. Everyone's just in the spirit."

"Yeah well..."

"I thought you were trying to get in the spirit too," you reminded him and then reached over and plucked at the fair isle sweater Kyle had gotten the whole TapeWorld team so they could match for a group picture. "Exhibit A, Mr. Grinch."

"I am trying," he whined. "It's just hard to be extra jolly when someone's always sniffing around your girl."

"Am I your girl?" you asked. You were obviously teasing him, but still...Eddie froze. "You haven't asked me if I want to be yet."

Everything inside of him was on red alert at that moment.

Evasive maneuvers? No, that was a bad idea. All power to the forward shields, which were holding but weakened. He didn't have enough firepower for this.

"No..." he replied awkwardly. "I haven't."

The way your expression dropped broke him, and he knew he had fucked up.

---

"I'm disowning you," Kyle shook his head in disappointment by the time Eddie got back from lunch. "In fact. We all are."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie groaned.

"Mitch! Paulie! Eddie's disowned."

"You can't fire him, he's closing tonight," Paulie argued.

"Not fired," Kyle pointed across the store with authority. "Disowned. And such a shame; Edward Tapeworldington, first of his name...you shall never be king."

Eddie stewed in the laughter of his coworkers.

"Why don't you ever listen to me?" Kyle threw an arm around his shoulder. "You could have asked her out right then and there. Been like 'hey you wanna be my girlfriend?' And it would have been like...the happiest day of your life. Hell, happiest day of my life. Cuz then I wouldn't have to hear you bitch about it all the time."

"Didn't know I complained that much," Eddie muttered self-consciously.

"All the time," one of the other guys chuckled.

"It's not complaining," Kyle corrected. "It's just that...we want you to be happy. As cliche as this sounds, we're like a family right? Hey, psst, all of you? Savor it, you're only gonna hear me say it once.

"If one of us is miserable, we're all miserable," he continued. "And you've been kind of a miserable piece of shit for a while, Ed. I'm sure your buddies would tell you the same thing. Lovesick puppy act's only gonna get you so much sympathy until you're the one getting in your own way."

Eddie felt his stomach turn because getting in his own way really did hit the nail on the head.

He thought about it for an eternity--really only 30 seconds--went about asking himself what had held him up for all this time. Fear of rejection obviously but even he started to think that some of the things that had gotten him so caught up were just...excuses.

Even now that he knew you liked him just the way he liked you, they were just excuses.

"So why can't I just...say something?" he finally asked.

Kyle clapped his hand down on Eddie's shoulder twice and then turned so he could head out for his own break.

"Only you can answer that question kid."

---

"Hey do you wanna go out sometime? Ugh."

So he practiced.

"So remember how we're supposed to go to Benny's for Christmas Eve? No."

For days he practiced.

"You know how the first time we went out for pizza I mentioned it wasn't a date? Well this one is. No god, you're an idiot."

Through the rest of the semester, during band practice, he even almost flubbed the lyrics at the gig at the Hideout on the Tuesday before Christmas. There were only so many days left until your dinner together at Benny's and he really wanted it to be your first official date.

But if Eddie was gonna fix this, if he was gonna ask you out, he needed to get it right.

"Hey sweetheart." He muttered as he counted down Paulie's register at the start of his closing shift. "I know I really flubbed it last time we talked but I really like you and I want to know if you'd be my girlfriend.

"We've already kissed enough for it," he added at the end and then winced.

"How about you just lose that last bit," Paulie offered beside him and signed a few receipts. "And then it's perfect."

"Yeah?" Eddie asked hopefully. "Alright. Cool. Great."

He would do it after work tonight.

"Edddiiiiieeee!!!" a screeching voice called from inside the mall and Eddie and Paulie both watched as a Santa with flailing arms ran into TapeWorld. "Eddie man, I really need a favor. I need to use your bathroom."

"What the f--Gareth?" Eddie looked around the store to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating. Gareth was already shedding the hat and the fake beard and unbuckling the wide belt from around his waist. "What the hell are you doing here? Why are you Santa? I thought you were an elf?"

"There's no time to explain," Gareth panted. "But there's a line through the food court to use the bathroom and I couldn't wait, so you either need to let me into your back room or I'm gonna exorcise a demon right here on your sales floor man. Please."

"Ugh," Eddie wrinkled his nose and pointed towards the stockroom. "Yeah, sure whatever. Gross."

"I owe you one," Gareth tossed the fluffy jacket of his costume over the counter at Eddie and then ran into the stockroom. Hopefully just in time.

"So glad I'm cleaning the bathrooms tomorrow night," Paulie scrunched his nose in disgust. "Alright, you and Mitch need anything before I go?"

Eddie was about to say no, was about to send Paulie on his way.

But then he looked down at the coat and got an idea.

An awful idea.

Eddie Munson got a wonderful, awful idea.

"Actually, now that you mention it," Eddie grinned and shrugged the coat on, then the belt, and as he glanced up at Paulie, his coworker groaned, clearly able to read Eddie's mind.

"I thought we agreed no more gimmicks," Paulie exclaimed. "You're just gonna go up and talk to her."

"Yeah," Eddie nodded. "I, Santa Claus, am gonna go up and talk to her. I'm not even gonna take my full break, just five minutes, and then you can leave."

"This isn't gonna work man."

"None of my plans ever do," Eddie shrugged and pulled Paulie into a big hug. "But if it does, I owe you my whole life."

And off he went, across the mall, and up the escalator. He adjusted the coat and the hat and then remembered that he forgot the beard on the counter.

No matter, of course; he really didn't want to get fake beard in his mouth when he planted one on you.

There was practically a line out the door by the time he got to your store. He was able to see you through the window, on the register checking one customer out after another.

You were in the zone, but you didn't look stressed. You smiled a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, but every so often Mindy would crack a joke beside you and it did.

"This actually might be the worst idea," he muttered to himself.

But it was too late.

It was now or never.

You were gonna kill him.

Some of the younger kids in the store started muttering in excitement when they spotted him, only for their parents to say "that's not the real Santa" and "Santa doesn't wear ripped jeans" but you were oblivious until he was standing right beside you at the counter.

"Excuse me," he took a breath and lowered his voice like he would during Hellfire. "I heard there was something special on your wish list this year, young lady."

"Sorry sir," you answered without a thought. "I'll be with you in a second."

"You can't even take a second to help jolly old Saint Nicholas?"

You turned your head, obviously about to tell him off as you schooled your features into something plastic and robotic and customer friendly, until you realized it was him. Then something visibly short-circuited in your brain and he smiled brightly.

"I'd like to apologize to all the boys and girls shopping tonight," he announced to the customers theatrically. "But I have very important Christmas business with our dear Store Manager here. It'll only take a minute."

He was surprised when a few of them started laughing and clapping.

"Alright Santa," you finally composed yourself to answer, arms crossing over your chest in annoyance. "What official Christmas business can I help you with?"

"Well, I was reading over the wishlist that you sent up to the North Pole," he explained. "I don't have it with me, you see. Had to leave it down in the workshop so the rest of the elves could work on the scrunchies and the lipgloss you wanted."

"Uh huh."

"And the new windshield wipers that you refuse to let Santa replace."

You rolled your eyes and waved your hand to get him to go on.

"But there was one thing on the list that...maybe it's these tired old eyes--"

"Old?" you giggled and reached out to tug on his curls. "Your hair isn't even white Santa."

A bunch of nearby kids boo'd.

"Clock's ticking," you whispered. "Get on with it, or I'm gonna have to kick you out Ed."

"--maybe these tired old eyes weren't able to read. See I thought it just said friend. But my trusty elves Kyle and Paulie and Mitch assure me it says boyfriend."

Mindy cooed an awww from beside you and Eddie felt his confidence grow.

"So, Miss Store Manager," Eddie held his hand out to you. "Which one is it? Because I happen to have some high quality...boyfriend material that I can use to make your wish come true. Is that what you'd truly like this Christmas?"

Mindy immediately slammed a hand onto your shoulder and squealed, and although your lips were clamped shut and nose was scrunched, Eddie was sure that you were holding back a smile.

It was the longest 30 seconds of his life.

"Yes, actually," you finally responded. "That's exactly what I want for Christmas Santa."

Eddie's heart surely grew 3 sizes in that very moment as a bunch of customers clapped. And he was eagerly about to jump forward and plant a kiss right on your lips when your hand slammed against his chest to hold him back.

You laughed and your eyes sparkled with promise as you pointed to the door, a silent understanding that you'd continue this conversation later. But for now?

"Get out of my store!"

---

Eddie found you leaning against the side of his van when he clocked out. Your car was parked beside his, running idle, as you waited. The radio softly played the Nutcracker Suite and you hummed along to it.

"Alright," he began when he got close enough. "I know that what I did was a big no-no, but I think everyone was in good spirits about it."

"You're lucky they were," you glared at him in--what he hoped was-- fake annoyance. "I really would hate it if my DM got a call complaining about that. Then I'd have to break up with you before we were actually even together."

"I wouldn't blame you," he winced and then looked down at his feet. "So...do you wanna go out sometime?"

"Like a date?"

"Yeah," he glanced up at you and then back down at his feet. He shuffled them back and forth. "Dinner at Benny's on the 24th? How does that sound."

"Ugh, I dunno," you sing-songed and took a few steps to close the distance between you. You grabbed the lapels of his jacket and shook him a few times.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he questioned as you lifted his hair and turned his head back and forth.

"I'm looking to see if this was the quality boyfriend material that Santa just promised me a few hours ago."

"Hey now," he grabbed your hands in his. "I most certainly am. We've just...been friends for so long. I didn't know if..."

"I do," you answered before he could finish.

"But what if I..."

"You aren't."

"I was gonna say 'what if I fart under the blankets while we're cuddling.'" He deadpanned. "See, this is why it's important not to make assumptions."

"Alright, Fartmeister," you challenged him. "If you want to Dutch Oven your girlfriend, I guess I can't fight you. But don't be shocked when I do the same thing to you eventually."

"That's all I want from a girlfriend," he said. "A strong sense of retaliation and justice."

"Alright then."

"Alright." He shook your hand like you were making some kind of deal. "Christmas Eve at Benny's for our first date."

"Sounds perfect," you agreed.

"Good."

"Good."

You launched yourself in his arms and pressed your lips to his and he swore, probably for the first time in his life, he believed in the spirit of Christmas.

---

Next Chapter: Standard Operating Procedures 1.06

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Better Than Revenge // Alys rivers x Fem!Reader, MODERN AU. [ONE SHOT]

Summary: Your boyfriend Aemond cheats on you with Alys rivers, so you do the same.

warnings: nsfw content ahead! MDNI: age gap, mommy kink, tiddy sucking, cunnilingus, fingering, angst(?), fluff, wlw, cheating, aemond is a cunt. + not proofread!!

Enraged is not enough to describe the feeling you felt when your friend sent you pictures of aemond with his assistance, who he told you not to worry about, alys rivers.

He said he was supposed to be at a meeting tonight, but he was in a bar, spending time with her, and the next picture your friend sent made you see red.

He was kissing her.

You quickly texted your friend back, thanking them and planned on what to do.

You had realised, that when Aemond introduced you to alys, he had not mentioned that you were his girlfriend, just that you were close, you should've heard the alarm bells ringing back then but you ignored them.

You barely knew alys, and she barely knew you, it made you mad that it was possible that Aemond was two timing with both you and her. And then a plan came to your head, you smirked to yourself.

You had decided to act as you knew nothing, getting alys' number from his phone when he left to shower, and texting her.

‘Hi! This is Aemomd's friend, Y/N! I realised we both know aemond but not each other, I would love to get close to you! :)’

And from then onwards, things started to change.

You both had met up on occasions, hanging out from time to time, all unknown to Aemond, Alys was an older woman, likely in her 30s, she had more experience at things and was gentle and soft spoken, it only confirmed your suspicion that she did not know you and aemond were in a relationship, likely he never told her, considering she isn't hostile towards you.

She was very intelligent too, but you were confused as to how Aemond was able to fool her, you had guessed so when you directly asked her if she was dating Aemond and to your surprise, she looked away with a sad smile on her face, “No, not really, this is more of a situationship, he said he is not ready to commit yet.”

And that's when any remaining doubts of her getting in between you and aemond purposefully flew out of the window, considering she wouldn't be saying all that if she knew.

You held her hand, comforting her, gently.

God Aemond was a fucking douchebag.

You froze up when Aemond asked you where you have been going to lately, considering you hardly have any time for him anymore.

“Oh, nothing, I am just hanging out more with a friend, sorry i made you feel lonely.” you cradled his face and pulled it your chest, embracing him, feeling disgusted with yourself for continuing to do this, but you had to, your plan is halfway finished now.

He hummed before his hands travelled to the end of your tank up and pulled it upward, revealing your breasts to him, his head came forward to take your nipple into his mouth, you felt like throwing up so you pushed his head away and he furrowed his eyebrows at that, “Sorry, I'm not in the mood today.” you try to convince him, pulling down your tank top and he nods.

He said he got an urgent call and left your house, you scoffed, knowing he went to alys to get his dick wet, you fumed at the thought, until a few minutes later you received a text from alys herself.

‘Can we meet up tomorrow?’ and you felt your heart race, you thought she had found out before you would tell her everything but you replied a yes and the next message made you sigh out of relief.

‘That's splendid, let's meet at the same cafe! ♡’

You smiled to yourself at the text.

Aemond returned barely an hour later, irritated for an odd reason, something must've happened, so you asked what happened and he simply ignored you, grumbled and fell next to you on the bed.

He didn't get his dick wet.

You went up and met alys and she immediately hugged you when she spotted you, and you sat down at your usual table, you noticed that she was more quieter than usual, and sadder.

“Aemond came over yesterday.” she said, you let out a unsurprised oh, she sighed heavily. “Listen, I know you are his friend but, he is a fucking prick. I wanted to talk to him about what to label our relationship but he simply ignored me and tried to get in my pants, so I fucking slapped him.” she said, anger flowing out of her words, you felt delighted.

“He deserves it.” you say and she looks at you, and takes your hand in hers, “Are-” she swallows, “Are you into woman?” she asks nervously and you nod, “I am yes, why?” and you swear you saw her face light up immediately before she concealed it.

“Nothing, just asking.” she soothes your hands, “I- I got this matching rings for us..” she showed you them and you felt your heart flutters when she shows you what she got, “It's beautiful!” you exclaim, feeling happy and but guilty when she gives you a smile.

And that's when you decided to come clean to her. About everything.

She was shocked at first, but then she was angry and you felt your heart break, knowing your friendship would come to an end, but to your surprise, she didn't end your friendship.

“I suspected that he was sleeping with you too, but I didn't realize he was actually dating you. I'm sorry.” she apologized and you shook your head “No no, it's fine, you didn't know— which is why I wanted to- talk to you but, I found myself enjoying your company more and more and I couldn't find the heart to tell you.” you said shyly.

It was true. Your original plan was to befriend her and tell her and then break up with Aemond, he would've surely gone to her for comfort and she would've also ended the situationship with him, hurting him twice.

She chuckles at your shyness, before giving you smile, “Thank you.” she says making you confused, “Thank you for being honest with me– you had every right to hate me but you decided to find the sides of the story first, and I'm sorry, I did not know he was a man like that.” she comes over and sits next to you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

Your eyes flicker to her lips and she looks at you for a moment before she leans in, you both kiss, it was a gentle one.

She pulls away and you blush, hiding your face in her shoulder, feeling embarrassed, luckily no one witnessed the kiss.

She had invited you to her home and you went gladly, you sat on the couch nervously, the tension between the both of you rising, she fetches you a class of water and you drink it, she plops down next to you on the couch.

You both had planned to watch a movie and she put on a mediocre TV show that was neither good nor bad, you felt her place her hand on your thigh, drawing circles on it, you tried not to let it bother you, but it travelled further near you core.

You involuntary clenched your thights shut when her hand grazed over your clothed cunt, you were wearing a short skirt. She turns her gaze over to you and you breathe heavily.

She pushes you back against the couch before getting on of top you, bending down to kiss you as her hands travelled up your shirt and pulled it upwards, groping your tits in both her hands, giving them a tight squeeze before playing with the nipple.

She broke away the kiss and trailed kises downwarda towards your breasts before she took one of your breasts in her mouth, you whined when you felt her teeth nip at your stiffened peak, you cradled her head against your tit, hands in her dark locks of hair as she stared at you with her emeralf green eyes.

She let goes of your breast with a pop before moving down, discarding you of all your clothes until you were completely bare, she did the same, ridding herself of her clothes before she went further down.

She placed wet kisses on your thighs before she dived in your dripping cunt, her tongue licking in long strides, sucking on your clit, your hands gripped her head, pushing her head to be as close as possible, you grinded your hips against her face.

She moaned against you, vibrations shot up your body, she dragged her tongue up and down before taking in your clit in her mouth once again as her hands parted your thighs even further.

You felt a building up tension in your core as she continued her ministations, your nipples hard from arousal, she pulled away before spitting on your cunt and devouring you again, it was filthy, but oh gods it was so good.

You moaned her name out loud when you felt the coil in your core snap, body trembling as the orgasm hit you in waves, she pulled away before switching positions.

She lined her cunt up against yours, your leg thrown over her shoulded before she rutted against your cunt, your clits rubbing against one another, you moaned from the overstimulation.

She fastened her pace, nearing her orgasm as well before she came too, moaning your name loudly, her head dipped down you take your nipple in her mouth, she suckled on it.

You got bold and switched positions, being on top of her, you trailed kisses down her pale and milky skin, to her breasts before you suckled on it, closing your eyes in content, your hand travelled to her dripping folds.

You rubbed her clit before dipping two long fingers into her awaiting cunt, she whined when you shoved your fingers inside of her, you slowly started thrusting them in and out, leaving her tits with a pop to look down as her cunt engulfs your fingers, you groan at sight.

“M-mommy look at you.” those words escaped your mouth before you can stop them, you felt embarassed but alys didn't say anything, she just smirk before caressing your face, “Does my babygirl enjoy when her mommy is pleased?” she asks and you nod eagerly. Hands speeding up, she throws her head back.

“F-fuck I'm so close baby- keep going like for mommy yeah?” she pants and you obey her, she let's out a lewd moan when she cums all over your hands, you pull your fingers out before looking at her, she looks at you through narrowed eyes and you put those fingers in your mouth sucking on her juices, she gives you a content smirk at that.

She presses her lips to you and you both end up in a late make out session, her hands rubbing up and down your sides, your naked bodies entangled, “Gods, you're so beautiful.” she murmers, making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“what the fuck.” your head snaps to the voice and you're shocked, it was Aemond, who was looking at you both wide eyed, shocked at your state.

Alys forgot to lock the door.

You and Alys look at each other before staring at him intensely, alys helps you dress up and she dresses up too, Aemond waits there awkwardly.

“Uh- I'm sorry.” is the first thing he says, likely understanding that you both had figured out about his antics, alys sits there, arms crossed and she gives you a nod.

You go up to Aemond, he looks at you, expecting you to forgive him, but you punch him in the face. He's shocked and falls back, “We're over.” you spit venomously.

“So are we, if we were ever a thing.” Alys speaks up, before making her way over to you and pushes Aemond out before slamming the door in his face and locking it.

She turns to you and you both burst out laughing.

And soon enough, you and her began dating.

You both move out of your old places and move into a new apartment, blocking Aemond and changing your numbers so he stops pestering you guys, he still has your insta and he sends various dms to you through multiple accounts but you just block them, and soon enough, they stop.

Alys told you about her passion for witchcraft, how she casts protection spells, and how much firmly she believes in it, you listen to her talk about it with a smile on your face, and she does the same when you talk about the things you are passionate about.

[cuubism]

I’m BEGGING for more “retired!Dream opens up a weird magic fey bookshop” au. Its so intriguing!

you are in luck. i wrote more

--

"So," Hob says, leaning in the doorway of Dream's study-of-sorts, "much as I love the recommendations, do you mind if I browse?"

He's taken, recently, to meeting Dream on the upper floor of the shop, bringing coffee and watching Dream label and sort his new books in incomprehensible categories. He usually gets some interesting book facts out of it, too, or strange little stories -- "this book washed up on the Sardinian shore some years ago", "this was signed by a long-dead author, I've been curious to see how long it will take for a collector to find it," "an old man bestowed this upon me on the eve of his death, it's the only copy in existence" and so on -- not to mention the pleasure of Dream's company. He is so odd, and so engaging.

Dream looks up at him now with a tiny smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes. "Of course. Find whatever you wish."

Hob has been wondering if Dream's serendipitous knack with books will extend to browsing, to random finds. Only one way to know.

He leaves Dream to his labeling and goes to wander the shop.

This time, he does get swallowed in Oneiromancy, where he finds Sleeping Worlds, a book about dream travel. Then he wanders deeper into the shop, passes categories like, "Cat Training," CLOCKS, "Mathematics: Easy -> Impossible", and, "♾". Of course he goes into Infinity, and picks up The Birth of Numbers, a book whose text starts in the center of the page and spirals outwards, font growing larger as the book goes on, and in another section called "Romance: DIFFICULT LEVEL" -- whatever the hell difficult means -- he picks up a tiny book that's just one line, one syllable on each page.

I

on

ly

want

ed

you

to

see.

God, Dream's shop is weird.

Dream finds him there some time later, deep in Sleeping Worlds. "I see you've had a productive day."

"Yeah, sorry, lost track of time."

Dream keeps looking at him with a little smirk.

Worry darts through Hob's stomach. "Wait, what time is it?"

"Midnight," says Dream, with satisfaction. "I've absorbed you."

Yeah, no kidding. Hob scrambles to his feet. "Jesus, Dream, sorry. I'll get out of your hair."

"No matter. This is what The Library is for."

Hob goes to hand him the books, and he waves a hand. "Keep them, I will get them back eventually."

Ominous. Great.

"Gonna break into my house and retrieve them?" Hob asks. He probably wouldn't even mind, to be honest.

"Nothing so alarming." He gestures Hob forward, and Hob follows, lets Dream walk him out.

It is, indeed, pitch dark outside on their shared street. Hob's supposed to open the cafe at 6. Whoops.

"Thanks for the books, Dream," he says. "And for. Ten hours of distraction, apparently."

Dream leans in the narrow doorway of his shop. "Of course. Come browse... anytime."

And he melts back into the shadows as Hob steps down onto the street.

--

Hob wonders if he's an idiot for wanting to ask Dream out. Dream is clearly some kind of other thing, and hanging around him did kind of get Hob cursed. But the way he bites his lip when he's making notes in books is so cute. His unerring ability to make perfect book selections is both strange and endearing -- even the books Hob had picked up on his own had been exactly what he hadn't known he was looking for. Hob's heart picks up every time he steps into the cafe.

But if he's to ask out Dream, his own personal weird bookshop creature, he has to do it right.

And he knows how.

The next time Dream comes in for coffee, Hob sits down across from him and hands him a book. Dream looks at it in surprise, and Hob has the sudden thought that as the all-powerful selector of tomes, he probably isn't gifted books himself.

The book is called, Broken Hands. Hob had pulled it off his own shelf. Dream doesn't ask him what it is, instead he flips open the cover and reads, as Hob had hoped he would.

The first page of Broken Hands has the following paragraph:

Kissing her hand, he came to know himself. Kissing her mouth, he came to know them both. When they went onward, for now only in his mind, he kissed more of her, and more, and more, and then, he knew her. He wanted to know her.

Dream reads it, and looks back up at him. Offers a tiny smile. Yes, Hob knew he would get it.

"You have something you would like to ask me, Hob Gadling?" he says softly.

"You have something you want to answer?"

Dream takes a long sip of his coffee, but looks at Hob over the rim of the mug, a smile in his eyes. Then he swipes away the milk foam from his upper lip with his tongue and says, "I'd say that you are very foolish, to still wish to associate with someone who did, in a sense, get you cursed. But that I find myself grateful for this foolishness. People do often come back to the library, once they find it-- but they don't often come back for me."

It makes Hob sad to imagine--Dream the perennial custodian of The Library, shepherd of its patrons, gifting small touches of coincidence and magic, but always in the background, a bridge and not a destination. Meanwhile, Hob likes the strange books, but it's Dream he keeps wanting to hover around, to lure back into his own space.

He dares to take Dream's hand and squeezes. "...So?"

"I'd say that I'd like to get coffee with you, if you know a place."

Cheeky thing. "Yeah, there's a Starbucks a couple blocks down," Hob says, gesturing, and Dream chuckles. Hob's still holding his hand, and brings it to his lips for a light kiss, and gets to watch as Dream's cheeks tint pink. His heart lifts in his chest. So easy and light.

"You're gorgeous," he says, and that blush deepens. "I'd suffer even Starbucks for you."

"You would suffer much, then," says Dream.

"We'll get our Starbucks and wander around WHSmith and have a fabulous date," Hob says, and Dream's face goes through the most exquisite journey of horror.

"You demand too much," he says, faint. "You enjoy my suffering."

"Little bit, yeah." Hob's certainly enjoying the reaction.

Then Dream looks at him in challenge. "Very well," he declares. "You've set the date. Now you must follow through."

Hob can't even spare a thought to the distasteful activities he's now gotten himself into--he has a date with Dream. "So that's a yes?"

Dream smiles again, a tiny, pleased thing. "It is a yes, Hob Gadling."

--

They do go to Starbucks. Hob is treated to the glorious sight of Dream sipping a pink drink out of a long straw, which is so worth dealing with the coffee. Then he indeed drags Dream to WHSmith, where Dream stands in the middle of the brightly-lit store, spins in a circle staring at carefully lined book displays with wide eyes, says, "Hell would be more merciful," and bolts away. Hob follows him, laughing.

Outside, he finds Dream leaning in the shade of a tree, looking vaguely shell-shocked. Hob really shouldn't keep laughing at him, but he can't help it. "Were you traumatized permanently by the big chain store?"

"Yes," says Dream, but, despite the perilous adventure, smiles. "You are a cruel man, Hob Gadling."

"Nah. Just harnessed the fluorescent lighting to chase you back into the safety of my arms."

"Oh?" Dream pushes off the tree and steps closer, until he's standing just before Hob, close enough to touch. "Was that the goal?"

Hob takes the leap that's offered and touches Dream's cheek with a light hand. "Did it work?"

This close, in the midday light, Dream's eyes are almost grey. The shade of the tree dapples his skin. It's still odd to see him out of the contained space of his bookshop, of Hob's cafe, but it does make this feel more real. A part of the world beyond the spun-sugar story of their orbiting binary stars.

Dream rests a feather light hand on Hob's chest. Studies Hob from under his eyelashes. And instead of answering, he leans up and, with that same light touch, presses his lips to Hob's.

Hob revels in the mere touch of him for a moment, but doesn't let it stand at light for long. He takes Dream's face between his hands and deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue into Dream's mouth, swallowing Dream's hum of pleasure. If only he could put into the kiss what he had felt when Dream had handed him Nightingales. A sudden finding of something long lost that was always meant to be rooted in his heart.

When they part, he makes good on a promise and does pull Dream into his arms. It feels like a great indulgence. It also feels right.

"Make me a solemn promise, Hob Gadling," Dream says against Hob's cheek, arms wrapped around his back.

"Anything."

"Never take me here ever again."

Hob laughs into his hair, squeezing him tight. "What could one possibly want from here when The Library exists?"

This seems to greatly gratify Dream, who preens in Hob's arms. Hob kisses the shell of his ear, then his cheek, then they part again, and he takes Dream's hand. "I'm glad you expanded your horizons with me for a day."

"And now I will shrink them again," says Dream. "Except for one." To which he runs his thumb along Hob's lower lip, a touch Hob sways forward to follow almost drunkenly as Dream smirks. "Come."

He starts leading Hob back in the direction of their quiet street, and far far away from any fluorescent lighting, and Hob follows, touching his lips fondly. And lets himself be cautiously, tentatively hopeful that this will continue spiraling up into something real, because he wants it so bad. Curses and all.

[scoops-stevie-archive]

i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)

the bachelor au where steve's the bachelor and eddie is a contestant, but not because he actually wants to be, he's just in it for the paycheck. robin is also a contestant but only because her parents sent in her application without her knowing and she isn't out to them yet.

they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.

until they both start going on dates with them and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.

only robin doesn't want to date him. he's slowly moving his way up the ranks to becoming her best friend, sure, but this is still tv. she's still expected to kiss him and confess her feelings for him. and when the time comes for her to do that, she can't.

they're in venice. steve is leaning in and robin is very aware of the cameras filming them. the back of her neck goes cold and her stomach churns and suddenly she's running in the opposite direction. her italian is passable so she ends up getting a taxi back to the hotel production put them in.

she locks herself in her en suite and presses her forehead against the cold porcelain. she doesn't know how long she sits there until her phone buzzes and she checks the notification. the nausea rises up her throat again. she forgot she gave steve her number.

there's a knock on her room door and another text.

r u ok? can i come in?

robin debates it but figures she owes him and explanation. she lets him in and they sit on the bathroom floor. robin tells him why she's on the show in the first place, about how she didn't know her parents signed her up until she got the phone call from the casting director. tells him that even if she gets kicked off, she can still use the money for her student loans.

she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.

steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."

and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.

steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.

robin would like that.

she apologizes to the production crew the next day and they're understanding and steve and robin get a re-do of their date. it's much more genuine this time, filled with laughs and digs as they eat gelato along the river and people watch and gossip.

it's the best robin's ever been on.

eddie, on the other hand. he's absolutely head over heels for steve, which is surprising even for him. he's trailer park trash, he's got absolutely nothing on steve harrington. not the name, not the money.

hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.

eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.

he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."

eddie's flabbergasted.

steve opens up about all the fake people in his life, the ones who just take advantage of them and use him for their own gains. the ones who don't even bother to get to know the real him. the one that likes to play guitar and hang out with the gaggle of teenagers that follow him around all the time for some unknown reason.

he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.

this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.

the show has a deadline, of course, and steve can't just spend all his time with eddie and robin. there are other contestants. robin knows her rose is strictly platonic and steve has already called her multiple times freaking out about his growing crush on eddie. she knows eddie has this in the bag.

the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.

when steve chooses eddie after a moment of dramatic silence that kind of puts his own dm dramatics to shame, eddie doesn't hesitate to jump in steve's arms, wrap his legs around his waist, and plant a sloppy one on him right in front of the cameras.

[suzukiblu]

Day thirteen of fic NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Tim gets to the Gotham mall Tim Drake is meeting Superboy at fifteen minutes early because on-time is late, and is entirely unsurprised to have to wait twenty minutes for Kon to show up. Actually, if anything he’s surprised to only have to wait twenty minutes for Kon to show up. 

“Sorry I’m late. You will not believe this, but there was literally a cat stuck in a tree,” Kon says with a sheepish, guilty grin as he lands right next to him in full costume like that’s a perfectly normal thing to do, especially in Gotham. Tim is very glad he decided to wait in one of the security cameras’ more out-of-the-way blind spots. 

“I’m surprised the cat let you save it,” he says, raising an eyebrow at him. It is Gotham, after all. 

“He did not,” Kon says, making a face. “He tried to claw my eyes out and then jumped off my head and down into his owner’s arms, who proceeded to ask me why I thought I was too good to wear body armor.” 

“Well, why do you?” Tim asks, feeling a bit of quiet pride on behalf of his city. Gothamites have priorities. 

“Because anything that could hit me hard enough that I’d need body armor for it would trash the body armor anyway,” Kon replies matter-of-factly, gesturing illustratively at himself. “TTK only works on skintight clothes. Like, I did not go for Spandex as a fashion choice, it’s because anything else would shred right off me in an actual fight.” 

Tim feels his own eyes glaze over. 

“Uh-huh,” he manages vaguely. 

“Also I don’t know where I’d get body armor stronger than I already am anyway,” Kon says. “Cadmus doesn’t have any and that’s pretty much my whole supply chain, you know?” 

“Uh-huh,” Tim manages again, still attempting to reboot his brain. “Shred right off, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Kon says with a shrug. “It’s not exactly dignified, fighting crime naked.” 

“. . . uh-huh.” 

Tim blinks a few times. Blinks again. Then he shakes his head and forces the mental reboot. 

“First things first, are you hungry?” he asks. “There’s a pretzel place and a smoothie shop right over there, or we could just hit the food court.” 

“I could eat,” Kon says with another shrug. “I mean, who doesn’t appreciate a good smoothie?” 

“Well, don’t get your hopes up, Gotham smoothies are fine but unfortunately use a lot more frozen fruit than Metropolis ones,” Tim says, which is the one and only thing he will ever hear said against Gotham. 

“Isn’t frozen better anyway?” Kon asks, wrinkling his nose. “Fresh fruit makes it kinda watery sometimes. Frozen it comes out thicker and stuff.” 

Okay, well, Tim is apparently talking to someone who knows a lot more about smoothie-making than he does. Note to self. Also, what an incredibly weird thing for Kon to know. Like, even weirder than the caffeine. 

“Does it?” he says. “I just always hear fresh is better than frozen.” 

“From pretentious snobs who can grocery shop every day, I bet,” Kon snorts, rolling his eyes. Which . . . is a fair and accurate assessment, admittedly. “And it’s a smoothie, not a juice bar. They’re supposed to be frozen, yeah?” 

“Okay, well, in that case, guess we’re getting better-quality smoothies than I’d assumed,” Tim says. 

“Spoiling me, huh, pretty boy?” Kon says with a smirk. Tim experiences every possible flavor of mortification under the sun and smirks back. 

“If I wanted to spoil you, we’d be getting smoothies in California right now,” he says. 

“I mean, we could,” Kon says with a snicker, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. 

“I appreciate the offer but that seems like a lot of travel time just for smoothies,” Tim says wryly. “Did you bring a change of clothes?” 

“No, why?” Kon says, looking puzzled. 

“. . . so we can hang out without anyone bothering you,” Tim says, wondering how that could've possibly not occurred to Kon. “Or interrupting the conversation every five minutes.” 

Kon looks–odd, briefly. Tim isn't sure why. 

“Hate to break it to you but I'm not exactly a scintillating conversationalist,” Kon says with a quick, forced smile. “You might want the interruptions.”

Tim thinks there might be a few more people to add to his supervillain vengeance hit list. Like, just possibly. Maybe. 

“What's your size?” he asks.

“Beats me,” Kon says, looking a little odd again. “I don't wear civilian clothes like . . . ever, really. Like, swimsuits at the beach, sure, but that's about it.” 

“What, never?” Tim asks, a little incredulous. Fucking–what is wrong with literally everyone Kon has ever known, for fuck's sake? 

“I mean, I have,” Kon says with an awkward little shrug, keeping his hands in his pockets. “Just not all that often, so I dunno what my size or whatever is.” 

“Okay,” Tim says, internally seething. Fucking Cadmus. Fucking Superman. Nobody ever even taught Kon how to fucking dress himself? How is that even a thing, for fuck's sake?! How is he supposed to ever get even five fucking minutes of being a normal person if he doesn't even own a goddamn pair of jeans?! 

Maybe Tim could do the supervillain thing a little bit earlier than planned. Like. Possibly. As long as he keeps the majority of his villain-ing outside of Gotham, anyway. That'd work, right? 

“Give me five minutes,” he says. “I'll be right back, just try to . . . uh, be . . . subtle, I guess.” 

Kon looks at him. Looks down at his bright costume and striking leather jacket. 

Tim despairs of his own capacity to do, like . . . anything. Ever. 

“Just wait right here, okay?” he says. 

“Okay?” Kon says skeptically. Tim takes the better part of valor and flees the scene. Four minutes and fifty-nine seconds later, he's back with a bag full of clothes that he eyeballed the sizes of that Kon hopefully won't hate, and that he also-hopefully eyeballed correctly enough. He's been learning how to do that more accurately, because you never know when you'll need to immediately get someone in new clothes in this line of work, but it's still a learning process. 

Kon takes out the dark wash skinny jeans and bulky forest green turtleneck sweater that should cover his suit effectively enough, as long as he takes off his gloves and jacket and maybe a belt or two, and the outfit's maybe a little heavy for the weather, especially layered with his suit, but it is Gotham and their chances of getting randomly rained on are higher than zero, put it that way. 

“You can get changed over there,” Tim says, pointing towards the nearest men's room. 

“What is this?” Kon asks, puzzledly rubbing the sleeve of the sweater between his fingers. 

“Cashmere,” Tim says, because obviously he sprung for cashmere. Kon wrinkles his nose, still looking puzzled. 

“It’s really . . . soft,” he says, almost hesitant. 

Tim doesn’t say “to be honest, I’ve always kind of assumed you’d appreciate nice textures more than most people, given the ‘tactle’ part of your telekinesis” and just shrugs. 

“I’ll get you something else if you don’t like it,” he says, and Kon bites his lip. “Or if it doesn’t fit.” 

“I mean–it’s just gonna get wrecked anyway. Like, I have a very developed history of wrecking things. Especially clothes,” he mutters, not looking up from the sweater. Which is, Tim cannot help but notice, not an “I don’t like it”. Actually, it’s just about the opposite of that, he can’t help but suspect. 

“Then I’ll get you another one,” he says with a shrug. “It’s just a sweater. I’ll buy you as many as you want.” 

“That’s very weird of you, man,” Kon says, rubbing the cashmere between his fingers again. “Like, you’re aware that buying superheroes sweaters is not a normal pastime, right?” 

“I wasn’t really concerned with being not weird,” Tim replies reasonably. 

“Uh,” Kon says, glancing at his face for a moment and then . . . pausing, briefly, before zipping off without actually saying whatever he was about to say. 

Well, alright then. 

Tim has several very weird reactions to the idea of Kon putting on clothes he picked out for him and immediately beats them all down because it is really not the time. Not even slightly is it the time. 

But Kon is also currently putting on clothes he picked out for him. 

Tim has possibly made a mistake or two here. 

Or definitely. Definitely Tim has made a mistake here, now that he’s considering how soft and pettable that cashmere actually was and the fact that Kon is about to be wearing it and therefore also going to be very soft and pettable and–

Tim has made so many mistakes here.