#happy birthday fic to jo

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

happy birthday to one of the greatest fics of all time <3 ( @bisexuallsokka , thank you for writing this masterpiece.)

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

☀️ Cast No Shade 🐎

jomary fic - 5193 words - rating: T - western au - read on ao3

There isn’t much to Saint William, the motley one street town that the surrounding ranches flee to when their occupants need to get supplies, food, or drunk. Luckily for Jo Harvelle and Mary Campbell (barmaid at the Roadhouse Saloon and stablehand of the Singer Stables) their occupations fall well into these categories. And so: while they are not content, they are earning, and there is much to be said for that for two young women in a small town nearing the bottom corner of Nebraska.

Jo and Mary: cowgirls, sapphics, and gender extraordinares. They're running and they're kissing and, most importantly, dicussing their names and shattered pasts.

i cannot thank @kerryweaverlesbian enough for betaing this fic. i really couldn't have done it without you <3

written for my josjoyousbday celebration!!

It’s early evening on a scorchingly hot July day when Jo Harvelle drops by the Singer stables. The temperature has only just become bearable. Jo tugs her bandana down from around her mouth as she wanders along the ramshackle wooden stalls. The dust outside is unmanageable, what with the lack of rainfall for almost a month now, but inside it gets just that bit easier to breathe. Whether that’s truly from the break in the dust or simply because her mother isn’t standing, hovering over her shoulder is probably up for debate. 

Either way, Jo takes her time making her way through the long corridor of the stables and greeting the horses on either side of her. The town is small enough she knows all of them pretty easily. She gives a congenial pat to Eileen’s broad bay, Sam, who looks to be more moose than horse. Conversely, she keeps a wide berth of Cas, Meg’s horse, who Meg always complains seems to have come out the farm with a crack in his hoof.  

She produces an apple from her pocket for Claire. Claire had been Jimmy Novak’s horse, before Jimmy got himself killed on some holy mission several years ago while Claire was young. Claire is now in the habit of bolting for the fields the second she sees an open gate, and Bobby once explained to Jo it was likely because of the trauma of losing Jimmy. 

“Horses,” he’d said, “are surprisingly human creatures.”

Since then, Jo has felt a particular kinship to Claire, and an apple shared between them is a ritual she likes to think does them both good. Today, though, that ritual is cut short, as Jo spies movement in another stall out the corner of her eye.

There’s one horse, in the stall beside her own, that Jo hasn’t seen before. She’s a gorgeous Arabian mare, with a hide so black she looks like she’s been dipped in rich ink. And she’s tall, too: Jo can’t see her legs from here, but she knows they’ll be lean and strong. This is a horse built for running. But no one runs through the meager, fatigued town of Saint William if they can help it.

So who’s here running? Who from? Or, Jo ponders, who to?

Jo is so deep in thought over who could possibly be the owner of that beautiful horse, the fact the door to her own horse’s stall is slightly ajar slips her by. It continues to slip her by until she goes to unlatch it, and finds the wooden panel bangs restlessly against the post. It then swings away, freely, revealing a skirt-covered behind bent over a rake. The person the behind is attached to appears to be turning the hay on the stable floor, a shortish head of blonde hair almost indistinguishable from the hay around her. 

“Holy hell!” Jo splutters, managing to bang the stall door into her fingers in the shock of her surprise. She hisses a curse. By the time she’s shaken her hand out and opened up her eyes again, the girl has risen to her full height and is looking on apologetically.

“Sorry,” she says, in a drawl somewhere between sweet and gravelly; like a siren with dust in her throat. Jo likes it. “I didn’t mean to startle you- is your hand alright?”

Nodding, Jo manages a small smile. “Sure. May I ask what you’re doing with my horse?” Her tone comes out perhaps a little sharper than she intended, as the girl recoils away slightly. But still, the girl’s in Jo’s stall, Jo reckons, and even if it’s a free country she has the right of way.

Her horse isn’t a horse to be trifled with, either. Everyone knows that. A dashing gray Quarter horse, Blade had been raised alongside Jo such that they were more like brother and sister than horse and rider. She’d named him Blade while she was young enough for her father to be alive, and quite rightly, too: his hide shines, almost metallic silver in the sun. 

“I was clearing his stall out, miss. I’m the new stablehand.”

Jo folds her arms. “I ain’t heard of no new stablehand.”

“Well, I am one,” the girl rebuts, with a certain amount of her own spunk. “You can ask Mr Singer if you really want, but all you’ll hear is that I arrived yesterday and started work today.”

“Where are you staying?” Jo quizzes.

“Mr Singer is letting me board.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Lawrence. Kansas.”

“Why are you here?”

“My parents died,” the girl says, and lowers her chin in such a way Jo instantly knows this part of the conversation is over. 

The girl opposite her is not much older than Jo herself, if at all. Her hair falls around her face unevenly, like she hacked it off herself in some dingy saloon mirror; strangely, something like jealousy rises in Jo’s chest over that surely undesirable image. The skirt she’s wearing is tattered around the hem. Similarly, her shirt is crumpled and mud-stained, visibly wearing at the elbows and collar. This is the appearance of a girl who hasn’t got much, and so Jo is inclined to believe her.

“I’m sorry,” Jo says, scuffing the toe of her boot along the floor. “I’ve lost my Daddy too.”

The blonde girl nods. She opens her mouth as if she has something more on the topic to say, but then seems to change her mind. She lets whatever idea she had go with a little puff of breath and instead says, “Mr Singer was a friend of my pa’s. That’s why I’m stayin’ here, so you know. I ain’t some nobody.”

“No,” Jo mutters, and she can feel her cheeks reddening. “I didn’t think you were. I was surprised to find you here, is all. Bobby didn’t say anyone new was coming.”

“Well, I’m here,” the girl says with a shrug. A hint of a smile catches on her lip as she takes the moment to rather blatantly look Jo over, from tip to toe. Jo feels like she’s being inspected, or studied, or something. Like if the girl were to take an exam on her now, she’d get all the answers right. “Might be a good thing too. I’m Mary Campbell,” the girl, now Mary, announces. 

Jo nods, feeling her own cheeks dimple. “Mary,” she repeats softly, feeling the name in her mouth. It’s a little plain, as all the girl’s names seem to be in these parts, but it fits her, Jo thinks. There’s always more to a Mary than meets the eye.

“And what’s your name?” Mary asks, turning back to her work in the stall. Blade doesn’t seem to mind her presence at all, happily munching from his food box. If nothing else had made Jo trust Mary already, that sign alone would have.

“Everyone calls me Jo,” Jo supplies in turn. She pushes the stall door to, so she can lean against it and peer over as Mary works. As Mary bends over again, it’s another one of those moments where Jo wishes women got to wear unforgiving denim jeans like the men did. 

“That short for anything?” 

“My mamma seems to think so,” Jo huffs. “But it’s really just Jo. Jo Harvelle.”

“Alright then. Howdy, Jo Harvelle, it’s nice to meet you.”

**

There isn’t much to Saint William, the motley one street town that the surrounding ranches flee to when their occupants need to get supplies, food, or drunk. Luckily for Jo and Mary (barmaid at the Roadhouse Saloon and stablehand of the Singer Stables) their occupations fall well into these categories. And so: while they are not content, they are earning, and there is much to be said for that for two young women in a small town nearing the bottom corner of Nebraska.

A year after Mary’s surprise arrival, the July sun scorches the land as surely as it did the very first time Jo and Mary met. Jo pulls her hat from her head and fans herself with it a little as she slips into the Singer Stables, in a move now so habitual she barely thinks about it. The late afternoon’s fingertips are starting to loosen their grip to the cooler breeze of evening. Only just, though. 

“Hey honey, I’m home,” she calls out among the seemingly empty stalls. 

Blade snorts fondly at the sound of her voice. A second later, Mary’s blonde head pops out of the stall beside Blade’s, the stall now belonging to the horse which had stolen Jo’s attention that day a year ago. 

“Hey,” Mary says, a smile curling across her lips at the sight of Jo. Her gaze drops from Jo’s eyes as she rambles closer, drifting across her chapped lips instead.

“Hey,” Jo agrees, falling readily into the kiss Mary presses between them. It’s too chaste, like a tequila shot; leaves Jo wanting a chaser, wanting more. But still, it’s kinda perfect. 

Since Mary ran into Jo’s life, it’s been far more kinda perfect than it ever was before. 

The contact is over, but still they stand in each other’s orbit, neither of them wanting to pull away. The heat seeps through the skin and straight to the stomach, on days like this. It doesn’t matter that to stand so close means yet more warmth. Not when the rising devotion in Jo’s stomach has her singing for intimacy. 

“How’s Baby?” she murmurs, lips still close enough to Mary’s cheeks to grace her sun-weathered face. Jo feels, easily, how the hairs on both of their necks rise and stand like a freshly lit flame. 

Mary grins, turning away to gaze at her horse so tenderly it almost makes Jo jealous. The Arabian mare stands, gleaming black as ever. “She’s good,” she says. “Wheels need oiling a little, maybe, but she’ll run.”

Jo laughs, feeding her fingers between Mary’s buckled hands. 

They’d fallen into a relationship in the brisk air of last October, rather in the same way the Earth turns. One day, they weren’t ferociously making out in the back corners of local barns and yet, the next they were. 

One thing which Jo had noticed almost from the first kiss though, was how crooked Mary’s fingers were. Like they’d been broken and trampled and never given the time to heal right. But it was a hard question to ask, how a girl got all her fingers broken and crudely healed again by the ripe old age of 19.

Jo had chanced it once, and got the blunt reply that “my parents were bounty hunters. They wanted me in on the family business. But sometimes, the bounties hunt you back.” Then Mary had dipped her chin again, in the way that Jo knew meant she was starting to pour salt into a wound not yet healed. 

It hadn’t taken much to put two and two together and realize that bounty hunting was probably how Mary’s parents had wound up dead. It also took a single glance at Mary to see she was glad to be out of it. It must be a terrible thing, Jo mused, for that kind of death to feel like an escape. But if the paper she had seen crumpled on Bobby’s desk was to be believed, it seemed that her parents’ death had almost been Mary’s. 

Now, with her fingers entwined around Mary’s, still broken, Jo wonders - and not for the first time - what it’s like to come back from the brink of death. How it would be to come back, and not know if you’ve come back wrong. 

But then again, Mary’s fingers have healed in all sorts of finicky, wrong ways. And Jo loves how exquisite they are all the same.

“Tell me you’re finished up here, and that you’ll take me somewhere fun,” Jo hums.

“Can do, cowboy,” Mary chuckles.  “Let me get my hat and we can go.”

Mary brushes off the hay from her skirt, gives one last caring look over all the horses, and sets her brown hat firmly on her head. Then, she grabs Jo’s hand and marches them back out into the staunch heat of the unbroken street.

“You know what I fancy, in this shitty weather?” Mary asks loosely as they wander up the road. Past Rufus’ grocers on one side, past the doctor’s office Garth runs on the other. 

Jo shrugs, always happy just to let Mary chat on in her own conversation. Contrary to what her mother might think, Jo doesn’t always need to be talking. She’s more of the quiet type, really. It’s easier to hear more about others, that way. And perhaps to hide more of yourself.

Then they’re along past the Sheriff’s office, where posters with crudely drawn pictures scream ‘WANTED’ for a Nick, a Uriel, a Ruby. Sheriff Jody and Deputy Donna wave from inside, friendly-like, as Jo and Mary pass by. 

“Now, you mayn’t like me for this but I think it’s an awful good idea,” Mary stipulates, and Jo begins to see where they’re headed, and feels the excitement drain from her bones. 

“Come on,” Jo moans, feet still moving weakly towards the top of the street.

“More than anything in the whole world, what I want right now is a drink,” Mary says triumphantly, pointing towards the beaten up, almost knocked down sign reading Roadhouse Saloon.

Jo sighs. Her breath comes out lukewarm, and the heat suddenly turns her stomach more towards apathy than any romantic notion. 

“I’ve just spent the whole day in that saloon, I don’t want to go back,” she huffs, pushing her weight against the direction Mary is still towing her in. 

“Think of it - a nice cold beer at the end of a working day-”

“Think of it,” Jo lays out clearly. “My mother.”

“Just imagine her as a coyote, she won’t attack you as long as you don’t provoke her,” Mary assures her. She gives Jo’s hand another encouraging pull. “Come on, please.”

Jo shakes her head with a definite grump, but there’s a smile growing on her face, and she knows she’ll probably give in.

“Come on, Josephine,” Mary laughs, dragging her towards the Roadhouse. “Let’s have a bit of fun.”

Jo halts at that, though. The name that slipped through Mary’s mouth oh so easily. 

“My name ain’t Josephine,” she says, tugging her hand free from Mary’s. She stops in the street, still, a few feet from where Mary now stands. All trace of amiableness gone, Jo scuffs the dust with the toe of her boots.

Mary turns to face her. Her hat has fallen from her head and so rests at the back of her hair, caught on the string around her neck. The ashy strands of her bangs glint in the dry sun. Her smile hasn’t faded; “yeah, I know, you’re just Jo-”

“No,” Jo says. “I mean, my name ain’t Josephine. It’s Joanna.” She heaves a sigh. “Joanna-Beth.”

Mary’s mouth forms the ‘oh’ before Jo hears it. It’s frustrating, that even like this, when Jo has this restless anger shifting about in her, Mary still looks so downright kissable. She stands a little awkwardly, like she wants to close the distance between them but doesn’t know how to. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I just kinda assumed…”

“I know,” Jo shrugs simply. And just like that, the anger dissipates again, like there was no reason for the itch ever to be there. “I didn’t tell you. But now I have.” 

The street is empty around them. A part of Jo’s brain cries out that this feels somewhat like a shootout; Mary shot first, and she hit the heart now bleeding on Jo’s sleeve. But why her name is causing this consternation, Jo isn’t really sure.

“‘S not really a big deal,” she says, stepping forward to be closer to Mary again. “I’m still just Jo, really.”

Mary hesitates, for a frightening second, like she has something more to say on the matter. And maybe she should. Almost a year they’ve known each other, and only now does she know Jo’s full name. 

But then her face curves back upwards into a smile. “Yeah, you’re just Jo. And as it happens, I like Jo quite a damn bit.” She leans in conspiratorially. “So it works out.”

Jo feels a fresh blush ignite her cheeks, and Mary offers out her hand. Under the sun, her pale palm seems to radiate its own light. Mary wiggles her fingers tantalizingly. Broken, but exquisite. Just-Jo takes her partner's hand, and lets her drag them both into the saloon.

**

A week later, Jo and Mary are collapsed under a tree, nestled in a dell between the swathes of long grass. The day is hot again, but not like before, not unbearable. Just managing to err on pleasant: in the shade the yellowing tree is casting, it’s particularly nice. 

Their horses are grazing in the field nearby. They’d ridden out of Saint William until it was nothing but a blur on the horizon, flickering feverishly in the warm air. Now, it’s one of those days which are completely spontaneous and entirely planned all at the same time - like neither of them knew it would happen beforehand, but once it did, there was never another option. 

Mary is slumped against the trunk of the tree, wide brim of her hat pulled low over her head. The slight wind plays mildly with her short hair. She hasn’t bothered to put it up, what with the ride being easy and the day not being wildly hot. 

The deft waving of the sun-bleached strands are somewhat hypnotic to Jo, as she lays perpendicular to Mary, with her head in her lap. Staring up at her from below, Jo is blearily reminded of the globe in the table of the town’s’ schoolroom. When she was young, she’d sit by it on the floor in class and gaze up at the countries no one properly saw from above. Antarctica, Australia. And now, looking up at Mary, she feels equally let in on a secret. It’s like Mary becomes the whole world.

“I have a question for you,” Mary says, breaking open a very comfortable silence. Apart from their voices, the only other sounds are the occasional snorts of Blade and Baby; a swish of their tails as the flies get too close. 

Mary’s been running her fingers through Jo’s hair, just softly, molding little rivers of hair over Jo’s forehead and brushing them aside. With her other hand, she’s working her way leisurely through an apple, and the faint tang of the fruit wafts in the air around them.

“Sure,” Jo says, rising a little from the half-doze that Mary’s gentle brushing of her hair had instilled in her. “Ask away.”

“You haven’t got to answer it,” Mary assures her, and for the first time Jo realizes that Mary is unsure about whatever it is she wants to say. Her hat casts a long, steady shadow over her face so that Jo can’t quite see the detail of her eyes. If she could, she isn’t sure what she’d see.

Jo props herself up on her elbows and tilts her head up towards Mary’s. Mary pulls her hand away from Jo’s hair, and leaves it hovering in the air beside them. Like static - Jo doesn’t have to see it to know it’s still there. Closer to her face, Jo can feel the heat radiating off Mary’s cheeks. 

“Okay,” she murmurs. Her voice comes out a little lower than the intended, and maybe she just wants to but she feels Mary shiver a little with it. “What’s the question?”

“Why do you want everyone to call you Jo? I know it ain’t up to me, but. Joanna-Beth is such a pretty name.”

Jo nods. She hums, to buy time with an answer more than anything, and settles back down in Mary’s lap. Mary’s hand hovers over her head, as if she’s unsure she can touch her again. Jo finds Mary’s gaze in the cool wash of the shade and shoots her a smile. With the brim of her hat all around her head, Mary looks like she has a halo. But not one made of light, one made of chestnut felt. A cowgirl angel. Mary places her hand back along Jo’s parting, running her fingers lightly against her hair again. 

“Do you like the name Mary?” Jo asks. It’s not in lieu of an answer: she’s building up to it. Mary, as she understands almost everything, seems to understand this. 

“Well I guess I don’t mind it,” Mary answers fairly. “I don’t know- it’s a common name, easily. A lot of girls in this town are called Mary. Makes me feel a little plain. But then again, it’s never really been a problem for me. My name was just something given to me, and I never thought about not taking it.”

Jo hums again. With one of her hands, she searches in the grass around her for a second to find what she wants. When she curls her hand around a blade good enough, she gives it a sharp tug and brings it to her mouth, letting her jaw work around it. Something to do while she thinks of what to say.

Mary knows this all, knows she hasn’t got to go on to fill the silence, but she does. “I guess, now, if there’s one thing I don’t like about it, it’s about how Mary is a mother’s name. Virgin Mary, Mother of Christ, all that. Now I love Christ as much as the next woman, don’t get me wrong-”

Jo huffs a laugh.

“-but I don’t want to be giving birth to him. I don’t want to be a mother like that. And when you’re called Mary- why, feels like that’s what you were put on this earth to do, I guess.”

“I don’t think you were put on this earth for that at all,” Jo intercepts, finding her voice again. She’s well aware it’s a weakness, but she can always find her voice when she’s not talking about herself. “I think you were put on this earth to ride horses and leave this town and settle on a nice ranch and watch the sun go down over the mountains.”

She should’ve really said ‘you were put on this earth to do whatever you want to do,’ because that’s what she means. But she knows Mary enough to know that everything she just listed is what Mary wants to do. Lord knows Jo just wants Mary to want her by her side for all of it too.

“Thanks, Jo,” Mary murmurs. Her fingers are constant along Jo’s hairline again, but the rhythm seems to change, now. Becomes a thank you as much as a you are loved.

“And to answer your question myself,” Jo begins, because she believes in fair play, even if it does take her a while to get there. “I’ve never liked Joanna-Beth. It’s just never felt right. My mother always calls me that - ‘specially when she’s angry with me. She’s always been proud of calling me it, though, ‘cause she thought of the name herself. Loves it. Took her a long time to call me Jo.”

Jo takes a breath then, reading herself for the monologue. Sometimes, she gets the feeling she’s just a body built of dams, waiting to burst. Every joint is a blockade, and every day she’s trying to keep every one of them closed. But sometimes, when someone asks the right question, it’s hard to keep even one of them shut. That’s why she talks so little, and then all the time. She never could do anything by halves. 

“But my daddy, ‘fore he died- he loved calling me Jo. Always said I should be whatever I wanted to be. Lookin’ back, though, maybe he just wanted a son. Maybe I want to be his son, I don’t know. But I can remember him saying it. I can remember his voice saying ‘Jo’, and not much else of him. So maybe it’s a way to keep him alive.”

Mary sighs darkly. “I know that feeling,” she says. “My name is the only thing my parents gave me that I have left.”

Jo reaches her hand out and grasps Mary’s, giving it a tight squeeze. The loss is fresher for her still than it is for Jo - it’s been over a decade since Bill Harvelle died. It’s been not even two years since the Campbells were murdered.

They stay like that for a while, Jo’s hand locked around Mary’s. A sign of sympathy and empathy and all that’s between. Jo’s still got the straw in her mouth, and she chews it, roughly and repeatedly while she thinks of her own question she maybe shouldn’t ask. It’s an odd one, she knows that. But if Mary doesn’t want to be a mother, maybe she’s more like Jo than Jo could’ve previously hoped.

Jo coughs, roughly. The words are scratchy in her throat, like she’s forcing them out.  “Did you ever want to be a son, rather than a daughter?” Jo asks. She’s trying not to think about how hard that was to say.

Mary pauses, resettles herself against the tree. “What do you mean?”

Jo can sense her face flushing red under Mary’s question. But now the words are in the air with the scents of grass and apple and she can’t take them back.

“I don’t really…” she trails off. Are there even the words in her to be found to explain what she means? “I don’t think I’ll be able to say it right. But I mean- do you sometimes think you like girls more than you want to be one?”

It’s Mary’s turn to hum, now, as she works the question over in her mind. Jo picks at the stubs of her nails while Mary does so; for all that Mary’s patient with Jo’s silence, Jo can never quite repay her with the same grace.

“I think being a girl in a place like this is hard,” Mary says, eventually, carefully. “There’s aplenty of times when I’ve wished I were a fella just to get by a little easier, or so another girl would want me how I want them. But I don’t know if that’s what you mean.”

“I don’t think I know either,” Jo sighs, restless. “It’s hard to tell the difference.”

“To tell the difference between what?”

“Well, between wanting to be with a woman, wishing I could do what a man does, and being seen as a man myself, I guess.”

Mary places her apple on the ground, and presses her fingers purposefully to her own lips, and then to Jo’s. Jo can taste the bittery sweetness of the apple’s flesh even as Mary’s fingers leave her mouth. 

“What were that for?” Jo asks, helplessly falling into a smile

“‘Cause I see you got a lot happening in your mind, and I want you to know I love you for all of it.”

The words find residency in Jo’s heart and sit there, twinkling, making her feel a way she could never quite dream of describing. “Oh,” she smiles breathlessly. “Thanks.”

Mary is gazing fondly down at her, her own cheeks dimpled. She takes a breath, and twists a strand of Jo’s hair around her finger. Whether to fiddle or to keep Jo close, Jo isn’t sure. “Listen, I don’t know if this will help or not,” Mary begins. Maybe Jo would follow Mary through the darkest mine and deepest ocean, or maybe Jo just believes whatever Mary says will help. “But bein’ with you… makes me want to be a woman more than anytime else. I love loving you like this. And if you feel like you need people to see you a certain way- well I see you an’ I think you’re perfectly lovely.”

Something seems to slot into place, then, like the out of tune piano at the Roadhouse finally hitting the right chord. The words resonate, bringing the world out into a harmony which rings, rises, and then falls quietly back, like nothing has changed at all. But Jo knows it has - and she also knows the flush on her cheeks is reaching a furious red. “I didn’t just say all this to get complimented.”

“I know,” Mary laughs, and it sounds like singing. Her siren song. “But it’s true. If Joanna-Beth is strictly off limits, then I’ll call you Jo ‘til we’re sat watching the sun go down over those mountains.”

Jo furrows her eyebrows. “Well, it’s just… everybody calls me Jo,” she says, worrying at her lip. But then she thinks of that perfect chord resonating out across the long grass which Mary’s words caused. In that moment, she didn’t mind how long her hair was, because it was Mary working her fingers all the way through it. And she stares back up at Mary’s face, where the whole world is haloed by her chestnut hat. “But you ain’t everybody.”

Mary grins. “No?”

“No,” Jo replies firmly. “You call me whatever you see fit.”

She gets up properly, then, pulls the straw from her mouth with abandon and threads her fingers through the hand Mary had been carding through her hair. On her knees, Jo crawls to where Mary has her back against the tree. Mary peels herself forward, tugging Jo in with gravity until they’re both closer and closest to one another’s faces. 

When their threaded hands move tenderly towards each other’s cheeks, Jo cannot tell which of them is leading the movement. They’ve merged, become one, the gossamer strands of blonde hair fluttering between them belonging to either of them.

“Just call me-” Jo pants, losing her voice as her longing overcomes her.

“What?” Mary asks. Her breath is hot and palpable against Jo’s wet lips. 

Jo swallows. “Just call me yours.”

There’s a moment of just looking, where their gazes are shared with such intensity it’s like the air is honey between them. Then, they crush together, the honey dissolving as their lips meet one another’s with all the urgency of a world on fire. 

Or maybe a world in flood, as everything else falls away, is carried away around Jo as she melts entirely into Mary’s desire. Mary’s hat is knocked aside with the force of their kisses, and she drags her hands up and away to throw it plain off her head before rushing her crooked fingers right back to tug on Jo’s hair, caress her cheeks. 

The world is thrown open in bright sunlight - now, Mary casts no shade. The light blossoms in Jo’s eyes with the sudden change and the world is rendered white. White for bliss, white for desire, white for absolute stone-sure adoration. The shade was comfortable but this, oh this. This is a perilous serenity.

“Mine,” Mary whispers. She dips her head to press her lips to Jo’s neck and draws a sweet nectared whine from Jo’s throat. God, let her leave bruises. “Cowgirl, you’re all mine.”

[nine-one-wanton]

Happy birthday @sunnywithachanceofbi 💜🎁🎉🎂🎈

As a little treat, she had requested her friends write about death - which is completely normal and healthy?!

I took a kind of cheap way out by killing off an original-animal-character, and still kind of feel like I owe you ‘a real one’; but I hope you ‘enjoyed’ a deeper dive into the death of Tommy’s beloved pet turtle.

He was known by few; but beloved by all that had the opportunity!

His Constant

Read it here on ao3

Summary: Tommy deals with the death of a beloved pet 🐢

Notes:

⚠️ PLEASE READ ALL TAGS. A friend has a birthday, and a very specific request. So this is for her - and may not be for you. And that’s okay!

Also, this is in the same universe as my @saltommyweek2024 story, I Don’t Know How to Love Him. For more backstory on Oreo, and Sal & Tommy’s relationship - you can check that out.

(And the REAL Oreo is young, vibrant, alive, and well - hopefully we will grow old together 🐢)

[opal-apples]

So much to celebrate today (coincidence??? I think not )

[katsheadinclouds]

Romance

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: The night is always easier for Javier when he's with you, even if it means thinking about the possibility of ending up alone. Maybe this time he's done running away from happiness.

warnings: secret relationship, smutty happenings and thoughts, mild angst, smoking, mention of drinking, hopeful ending, no pronouns for reader, no use of y/n, reader is a blank canvas. Not beta read! If I forgot something, please let me know.

word count: 2.4k

notes: The happiest of birthdays to Jo, undercoverpena 💛💛💛 I hope you've had the most amazing time celebrating and I'm wishing you the best on this new trip around the sun. You've written one of my favorite fics ever and to be on this platform and reading the art that you share has been a massive privilege. Thank you for making this fandom feel safe. You gave me this lovely tan color called desert sands as my chosen shade on your birthday bash roulette and my mind went immediately to our man Javier and one of the shirts he wears. I hope you, and anyone else who might read this, enjoy your time with this fic.

dividers by saradika

In the night, Javier stands by the open window. The sounds from the street come in through it, an ambulance and police cars with their sirens blaring make his heart thump uncomfortably in his chest. The cigarette between his fingers smolders bright, the smoke burns in his lungs, yet he relies on it like nothing else could understand him fully.

He’s pouring his stress into it. The already aching muscles irritated from chasing after people who Javier knows are always two steps ahead of them and their efforts to stop the violence. His gun in its holster, unceremoniously laying on the floor, is a reminder of the violence he’s feeding into. What other option does he have? Anything and everything they do, he does, never seems to be enough.

You stir in your sleep. Javier’s tan shirt is resting on your shoulders. It doesn’t cover your bare skin below your hips. Javier pulls another breath of smoke into his lungs, and then one more, while watching your slumber. Your back rises and falls in a slow rhythm, peaceful, far away from the stress and adrenaline you both carry at work every day.

You shouldn’t have asked him to come home with you that one evening a few months ago after a night out at a bar. You shouldn’t have gotten the courage to make a move. You shouldn’t have wrapped your lips around the cigarette he was smoking, still between his fingers, your eyes glued to his when you thanked him for sharing his smoke.

You shouldn’t have touched his thigh under the table with your hand, shown him what you wanted from him. And you certainly shouldn’t have wrapped your lips around him, kneeling on your bedroom floor, your eyes adoring every inch of him. Your hands on him. His hands in your hair, unable to resist your advantages.

You act like nothing ever happens between the two of you outside of work. You wish him and Steve good morning when you see each other in passing. You ask if they got one of the hundreds of memos they receive every day. You wish them a good night at the end of the workday, ready to go home after endless hours in the stuffy office. You’re always around, but you keep your distance.

“I’m being professional,” you said after that hours long fuck fest fueled by stress in the safety of your bedroom. “We’re colleagues. Nothing is going to change.”

Yet everything has changed. Javier comes to visit every night after work when he’s in the city. You open the door for him without questions, you don’t even ask him to come around anymore. It’s an unsaid agreement at this point.

He knocks once, then two times fast, and finishes with one more knock to let you know that it’s him, no one else. You don’t ask who it is, you don’t hesitate to open the door. You just do and let him slip in, your hand always catching his to stop him from escaping from your reach.

The kiss to welcome him in is gentle, a single touch of your lips against his. You offer him a drink, the thick rimmed tumblers always available next to the amber colored whiskey. It’s also an unsaid agreement that he’s there only to have sex. Nothing more. You don’t deny him, you never tell him to stop, you only want more, and you always give more.

“I would let you do whatever you wanted to me. I would let you have me in any way you want,” you said in the afterglow of your release. Your pupils were blown black, and your breath was still out of your reach. Your legs trembled when you tried to get off his lap, off him.

Javier’s hands squeezed your thighs, either to steady you or to keep you deeply seated on his cock for a while longer. It was well past the hours of the early morning; your alarm was going to go off soon. You would curse at him for coming by after midnight, but you would still open the door for him the next time when he got to yours as late, or even later.

“In any way, hm?”

“Whatever you like,” you hugged yourself around him, your knees against his ribs, and he was screwed.

Javier wanted to believe that the words set all his nerve endings on fire because you were still stuffed full of him. That because you spread yourself open for him every time he came around, the words only had a physical meaning.

You absorbed the nausea he had in the pit of his stomach, somehow mixed with the anticipation of having you at the end of the day. You were someone he learned to trust. He could always come to yours no matter what. He could always rely on you to catch him. You always opened the door, and you never denied him access to you.

The offer was too tempting. Javier tipped you on the bed and kept himself lodged inside of you. Your limbs were weak and pliant. You closed your eyes when he ran his hands down your sides, admiring your figure, the curves where his hands fit perfectly on your waist. You emptied your lungs when he pulled out of you, spilling your mixed releases on your sheets.  

You inhaled the heavy air of your bedroom in preparation. One last breath before he’d pin you under himself. Before his lips attached to your sternum.

Tasting you was like coming home. Feeling you squirm under him in anticipation was exciting. Hearing you whine his name was intoxicating. He didn’t need drugs. He had you.

You came on his tongue buried deep in your folds, sucking, playing with you, taking you to the edge over and over until Javier decided when you had had enough. Your thighs were glued to his shoulders, your heels against his shoulder blades. You ground against his mouth, your hands holding onto his hair, pulling him in, and pulling him off you at the same time. Even when the pleasure crossed the line of too much, you still stayed put and lost your breath with another high as his moustache gathered the slick from you like he was saving it for later.

“You shouldn’t say that.” Javier muttered when you got out of the shower. He was sprawled with his legs out on your bed, watching you. You had outrun the moon without a moment of true rest, and the sun had caught up to you, ending the night with its first rays.

Your legs were unstable still and you couldn’t balance on your other foot when you pulled a fresh pair of panties on. You leaned against your vanity and stumbled through dressing yourself.

“I meant it.” When the door closed after you, leaving him to sleep in your bed, the words sunk in. He wasn’t just screwed. He was ruthlessly in over his head.

Javier had already risked it all for desire, but risking opening up was another thing completely. You observed him in ways he wasn’t aware of. You saw him in ways that others didn’t, in the safety of your bed, in his most vulnerable, in his most rageful.

You saw his quietness in the tenderness he showed you. You took it all out of him, one kiss at a time, forcing him to breathe and put the pressure to the side for an hour or few. You took him apart in ways that made him comfortable in his skin, but uncomfortable in ways that you adored him. With your eyes, with your words, with your gentle hands as you undressed him and showed him slowness.

When your hands pulled off his body and left him needing, you gave Javier all the control. He could feel the goosebumps against your heated skin, caress the pebbles of your nipples and hear your shaking inhales and exhales.

His lips on your stomach, on the sensitivity of your inner thighs, smell you dripping against your panties and touch you in the most lewd ways you probably ever had allowed anyone to touch. Your gasps and moans vibrated in his spine and made him painfully hard. Every time, without a question, you edged him without doing it intentionally.

And in the night, Javier could take you slow, take you apart one push of his hips at a time. One moan at a time. One run of your wet lips against his jaw and neck at a time until your kisses would only be little gasps as your high rushed him to reach his release soon after you.  

And he could take you hard, borderline ferociously, your hands trying to hold onto him, your nails scratching against his back until imprints of small half moons would litter his shoulder blades and the back of his neck. He would have them for days, and he would do it again, just to have his skin remember your cries of pleasure that he forced down his own throat to not let you wake up the neighbors.

It was impossible for Javier to stop it. Stop you from wanting him, stop himself from letting you. He watched you act like it didn’t mean anything, like it was just the two of you looking for a release. He heard your promise of this not changing anything over and over again in his head but saw that you had changed in every way possible after letting him in your bed.

“Tell me something about yourself,” you once asked while playing with a curl on his forehead and cracked your own promise into pieces.

“What’s there to tell,” he answered, and you dropped the topic immediately. The disappointment radiated off you in waves, but you hid it in licking your tongue against his, not caring about the friction of his moustache against your upper lip.

His intentions were never cruel, not to you, or to himself. Yet he was like a monster, coming back to you without you asking him to. To himself for letting him knock that pattern on your door.

You sigh in your sleep. Javier stumps the burned cigarette into a bowl and closes the window. Your naked leg is warm with his fingers gliding up against it, the back of your knee still damp from staying with your cheek pressed against the mattress, available for him on your knees for as long as he wanted.

He tilts his head the higher his hand rises. Your skin bursts with shivers when his fingers caress the roundness of your thigh and dips between them. He drags his hand against the crease under your ass, the meatiness of the muscle as his hand continues its exploration of your body, the curve of your hip, and under his shirt.

It’s easy to peel off you. Javier’s sweat still clings to it from the day. Your sweat clings to it from the night. He’s not sure when you had put it on. He only woke up to see you covered in it. He reveals the softness of your stomach, the shape of your waist, the underside of your breast. He draws a line with his thumb there.

Your eyes are open, watching him. Your face is half crumbled against your pillow, the worn out linen of your pillowcase. You’re somewhere between dream and wakefulness.

“Come back to sleep,” you whisper, your throat thick with sleep and the remnants of him. Javier moves the shirt off your shoulder to press his lips there. You sigh, relax against his mouth and move enough to give him space to follow you to the easiness of rest. Your hand follows the scrapes from your nails that are still fresh and tender. Your cold fingers look for the warmth of his skin, the burn you left there.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, already slipping away from him in his arms. You’re pulling him under with you, the sleep in your scent intoxicating. You lean in a little closer until you’re glued against him. Javier would want to push you away if you knew what he was thinking.

The hope of a future. He has it in his arms.

It would be the easier choice to let you go. When this is all over, when this terror is done, it would be easiest to end this. You don’t deserve the pain he has convinced he always causes.

Yet underneath there’s a promise of the other side. He’d take you out. He wouldn’t let this relationship stay hidden inside the four walls of your bedroom anymore. His imagination runs rampant with the images of himself in public with you.

To see you smile under the sun, with your hand in his with people around. Your voice in his ear when you tell him about everything and nothing, not just you sighing out his name in the dead of night. He would’ve never guessed ending up in Colombia also meant meeting you. Meeting the possibility of a next day that isn’t full of violence and loneliness.  

“You,” Javier breathes into your hair. The slow rhythm under his palm against your ribcage is proof enough that you’re not listening.

He would tell you who he is eventually. He’ll answer who he was before all this, before you stepped into his life and turned it upside down. He’ll let you see him in daylight, not only in the moonlight that smooths out all the edges, regrets and flaws. He’ll let you in on the good and the ugly, the person he, too, sometimes wants to turn his back to.

He’ll tell you about how he grew up too quick, too sorrowful, missing the family he didn’t have anymore. It’s just him, his dad and the house he once called home. Now it’s filled with stories he cherishes in the silence of his own memory.

Javier will forgive himself eventually. For thinking the worst of himself, for needing you to get away from him. He’ll keep on pretending though, with you, that nothing has changed. And this is just a mutual contract of desire.

“I want you to know,” he says into the glowing orange of your bedroom without any sound, the move of his mouth registering in the muscles of his face. He lets the weight of your body drag him over the border of sleep, melt against you and taste the sweetness of bliss.

[iznsfw]

Fic idea: Mommy contest eunbi vs irene

Predator & Prey

Part Four of Dulce Periculum | Previous Part | Next Chapter

Red Velvet's Bae Joohyun (Irene) x IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

7,994 words

Categories | principal!Irene x (jealous)girlfriend!Eunbi x student!You, mommy kink, cunnilingus, oral double blowjob, snowballing, cumswap, degradation, female cucking

Surprise, it was a spoiler! Had to move the time to avoid posting in the night lol So... this is dedicated to @subfortwice, who ignites the Dulce Periculum universe, @idevian whose tutor Eunbi ask started it all, to my birthday twin @eunbisrabbit who had the idea of the collarbone thing, and to best boi @sinswithpleasure. I appreciate everything and every one of you guys! And again, sorry for the usual self-indulgent style that the whole Dulce Periculum series is based on XD and the barely edited fic. Eunrene just drive me crazy

“You little brat.”

That’s the first thing you say the next time you see Eunbi at school. Not even a “hi” or a “how are you,” but when she’s set you up to fuck her teacher and led you into a trap, it’s definitely a nice way to open your little story. This tiny little thing of a story going down, down, down the rabbit hole. 

(Holes.)

It’s all her fault. She’s conveniently fended off your questioning of the incident at the Kwon household. Now, however, with her parents nowhere to save her from your schemes, you’ve got your eyes on her. Soon, your hands will be, too. She can’t escape now. 

Eunbi squeals in fear and excitement when you run after her. Alright, so maybe she can escape. That’s fair. You bump through masses of walking students, trying to find her in the crowd. It's impossible to not identify her when her glasses and wavy hair give her away, so your eyes remain locked on her like a sniper. Your hands just itch to get on her. 

Students pass you weird and amused looks. You and Eunbi, after all, are always on some dumb shit. However, you care not for it especially if ignoring them leads you to finally cornering your girlfriend in the backyard school garden. It's a dead end—no windows or doors are here for her to attract help. She's laughing, too, and screaming a little as you pin her to the high school building wall. 

"Mmm, oppa," she giggles between her squirms and struggles, "stop—"

"You think you were slick, Eunbi?" you ask. Your fist keeps her wrists above her head. What a pretty little twist of fate—if she lured you into the trap that's Kim Taeyeon, now you're the one tying her up into your makeshift trap. It's more satisfying than seeing Jo Yuri get scolded. "For whoring me out to that teacher you're so obsessed with?"

She nods mindlessly. "Yesss."

"Brat." Kiss her. She giggles. Of course, that prompts several other kisses. "That's what you are, you know. A little fucking brat." 

Your chest fills with happiness at how she smiles and laughs despite your teasing words. She knows you'd never do anything to hurt her. It's all a little fun play of words. A little skit, to be more truthful. 

Speaking of, there's some factualness to your words, too, and she knows it. Eunbi's crushed on Taeyeon for too long and sees her as an actual mommy that she isn't jealous of your little getaway with her at all. She's probably prouder than you'd assume of her idea. 

But of course, she denies it. Denies it with every inch of her annoyingly gorgeous body.

"Can you please forgive me, oppa?" Eunbi's eyes gleam. "I promise I won't slut you out to mommy again, I pinky promise!"

She's wearing the uniform Taeyeon borrowed, and thinking of how there's still some of your teacher on it, that there's a good amount of your cum embedded into its fabric, makes you more turned on than you should. Eunbi with her arms up in her tiny uniform is an added factor. 

But then there's also a few more classes to attend. You can't fuck her here. You'd love to more than anything, yet Eunbi has her priorities, and you don't want to hold her back.

Release her hands. "One day I'll get back at you," you warn. "You're really gonna get it."

You let her off with a warning. You can be the cop here—you'd cuff her hands with your fingers, tack them to a wall or mattress, teach her a lesson. Tear that cheeky smile off her face and replace it with the lewdest expression. But you're a good cop, or at least, as good as one can get. You know it's what she wants: to be punished incessantly, so you're not giving it to her. It would be putting out fire with fire.

You turn her heel to leave. Like so, you leave her unfulfilled and needy, which is exactly how you want her to be.

"Oppa!" whines Eunbi. She runs after you. "I'm sorry!"

You shut your eyes and laugh. In hindsight, you really shouldn't have. It would have shown you a dash of a shadow mooring and watching, and prepared you for what will happen later on. 

-

Let's just say later on a letter is written. You and Eunbi don't know it yet, but there is a letter—it's written in rehearsed formality, sent to the principal's office, and given by a person who's got more control than they should have. 

So, again, just for context: there's real parchment sent to her that ties this whole story together. There's a dual meeting, and a whole lot of evidence. Keep that in mind.

-

It's one giant teenage hell in the classroom.

The boys are gaming on their phones with the Filipino exchange student, who introduced them to League of Legends. The girls have flocked to the bathrooms arm in arm, while the others stay behind to braid some of their classmates’ hair. There’s messy chalked writing on the blackboard, some too explicit to even be allowed (“Wan-pipty for wan subo," courtesy of the Filipino student, of course, and although you don’t understand his language, you have a good idea of what it means), and others promoting their favorite K-pop groups (“stan BLACKPINK, you uncultured fucks!!!!!”, to which someone has replied: “Doesn’t everyone?”).

But what else can you expect from a batch of eighteen-year-olds, especially when it’s vacant time? 

That's right: exactly this.

Either-which-way, it’s a complete mess, is what you’re saying. There's no one around to keep the noisy mess contained, not even Eunbi, who's trying to vent her frustration through doodling on her notebook. She’s already drawn several plotless comics and a rabbit named Bi, but the noise still gets to her. It irks her soul so much that her hands squeeze up and loosen too much of a grasp on her pen.

Click. It bounces back up. You catch it with one swoop of your hand. You could be Spiderman in another life. Watch out, Tom Holland, or whatever. 

“God,” she says, looking up from her notebook with a frustrated, sarcastic smile, “do these people ever shut up?”

You chuckle. You’re an open fan of Eunbi breaking her kind, forgiving character and just growing tired of everyone’s bullshit. It’s an occurrence rarer than thunder coming before lightning, a once-in-a-lifetime show only a select few are allowed to see. She’s too kind, really, that although she's the lead role, she bails out of it often.

Gesture to the messy classroom and say, in a matter-of-fact voice: “Welcome to senior year.”

“Can you tell them to be quiet?” she asks.

“Miss Myoui said only you can.” Quote her: “‘You’re the president, right? You go tell ‘em.’”

Right, Eunbi says to herself. She’s been wrapped up in too many responsibilities—captain of the volleyball team, president of every school club you can think of, plus end-of-the-year valedictorian just to name a few—that she forgets that these positions even hold meaning. It’s the norm for her to be given the highest positions in each category that it’s quite tiring, if she were to be honest. But she has her mother to please, along with herself. She can’t let either of them down.

Sighing, she leans back into her chair. “I just wish everything would, like, stop for a moment.” She closes her eyes, as if to dream of that being possible. Unfortunately, the world goes on with or without the fantasizing. “I wish I could get a break.”

“Hey.” You pat her thigh and caress it above her short school skirt. “Cheer up. You don’t have to be so excellent all the time. You can just,” wring a hand in the air for emphasis, “you know, be okay. Average.”

“But my mom…” 

Sigh. You realize it’s easier said than done. While your parents are lenient and have gotten used to your low grades, your girlfriend’s aren’t that nice. You know that from your visits to the Kwon household. Her mother and father try to be subtle about the pressure, but there’s something in the air that passes and tenses that tells you there’s a lot more to the situation than you think. Whatever it is, it's clear that being a Kwon isn't that fun.

Sometimes you wish you could trade places with Eunbi and withstand her problems for her. You hate seeing her like this. 

“Your mom?” a menacing new voice asks. “Or would you rather say… mommy?”

Eunbi’s eyes open suddenly and enlarge. She recognizes that word, and unfortunately, she remembers using it on someone she shouldn't have been with. So do you, for which you turn your gaze upwards. 

Of course it’s Jo Yuri. She’s your mortal enemy dressed in deceiving innocent school uniform. She’s wearing a knowing smile on her face. It always means bad news, and right now, the main topic of it is you. 

What does she know? Most importantly: why did she say that? 

In your anxiety, you can’t even defend yourself or your girlfriend.

“Y-Yuri—” stammers Eunbi, the look in her eyes being one of a deer caught in headlights. She’s a terrible liar at heart, so even if she were able to finish her sentence, it would have come out oddly. Probably even add up to proof of her guilt.

Yuri smirks proudly. “I know all about your dirty little secret, Eunbi,” she says. “About what you did with professor Kim while everyone was at the Intrams… about what you called her…”

Every step she takes rounding your cluster spells trouble, and you can’t say you didn’t bring it upon yourself. However, you're still scared to death.

“Cut it,” you say. Even for a troublemaker, your voice trembles. Not a good look… er, sound, rather. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your head races with anxious thoughts and distress. How did Yuri know about that little session you had with Taeyeon? Were you guys that loud? Perhaps she had a source or spy nearby? You've no idea which one it is, and that's what scares you more than the consequences.

Eunbi's silent, refusing to speak. She looks anywhere but Yuri's eyes. Her ears are red and it's impossible to denote anything from the two of you but obvious guilt.

“Oh, is that so?” Yuri pouts mockingly. "Guess you'll have no reason to talk to principal Bae right"—she checks her watch, then smiles widely—"now."

The speaker attached to the wall of your classroom buzzes, catches the attention of everyone and says: "Will miss Kwon from 12-A and her boyfriend please come down to the principal's office?"

Okay, so maybe you are scared of the consequences just as much as you're scared of how Yuri found out.

Everyone's looking at you now. How could you feel so cold yet so hot at the same time? Everybody's eyes are burning holes in your skin, and your spine's undergone several chills that you feel numb already. 

Are you even alive? 

Your breaths are bated and Eunbi's shifting in her seat nervously. You should have seen this happening. Yuri's had a vendetta against the two of you ever since you and Eunbi got together. She's haughty, she's proud, she's rich—and for that, she's got her sources everywhere, can even manipulate official school results through pure influence. You hate yourself for being a terrible boyfriend and letting this happen to Eunbi. 

Yuri smiles as you and Eunbi rise from your seats. She waves goodbye at you coyly, and leaves everyone in the room confused. Each one of them, even the boys gaming at the back, are wondering the same thing word-for-word: what happened?

-

You don't speak while taking the stairs with her, and neither does she. You don't tell her that you're dizzy from the curving paths and she doesn't say how cold her hands are. However, you both know so, since you're both reluctant and afraid to meet the principal and didn't expect it to reach this point. It's your fault and hers, equally split, the modern day Adam and Eve. Could Yuri be the snake? Would God banish you? 

Probably, but you had it coming.

The steps you take are slow. You're afraid of what might come. But you suppose nobody's more afraid than Eunbi. She's the face of the school for the honors she's achieved. Everything can go wrong with one wrong move, and that's what this is. She put everything on the line, not expecting anything to happen, only for it to be taken all away.

Once you reach the ground floor, Eunbi suddenly grabs your wrist. Her small hand can only wrap around half of it, but her hold is tight. It carries meaning in its tightness, urging you to look at her.

"Oppa, j-just want to say…" She looks down at her school shoes in shame. "I'm sorry for pulling you into this."

You're not mad at her. You can never be. You're just… regretful. If you hadn't let lust propel your actions, maybe there wouldn't be reason for the two of you to be down here. You've been sent to the principal's office countless times, but this is the first time you're actually scared. What more when it's with Eunbi? She's never gotten in trouble before.

"Don't be," is all you say. "Let's just get it over with, okay? Together?" 

Mold your hand to fit hers, and she's smiling again, in spite of what's about to come.

You make the first move to knock. Eunbi nearly cries as she watches your knuckles meet wood. You wrap an arm around her and enter.

Long time, no see. Bae Irene's office is as grand as ever. Seems like this is where the tuition fees go: grand marble floors, a statue of a naked Greek goddess, and a fine desk that sits in the center of the room. Certificates, awards, and medals stack the shelves and walls that put even Eunbi's achievements to shame. Perhaps they're what intimidate her more than the woman standing in front of the desk.

"Good afternoon, miss Bae," you say. 

In certain angles, the principal looks just like Eunbi. Or maybe it's the other way around? The glasses don't help differentiate them. That makes you understand why people have a theory that there's a kind of narcissism in Irene that made her put Eunbi as the face of the school. 

What else can you expect from Irene, anyway? She's older, wiser, and tougher. The last one bears repeating. That by itself should be good enough justification as to why you shouldn't have fucked Taeyeon, why you shouldn't be such a troublemaker. God knows she's tired of seeing your face in here. She’d expect Eunbi would have a good influence on you, but instead, you've turned your poor girlfriend into a nymphomaniac. 

Maybe everything about this is your fault after all.

Irene knows this. "You've turned your girlfriend into one of yours, hm?" she asks. Rhetorical question or not, all three of you know the answer. "First time seeing you here, miss Kwon."

"Miss Bae," says Eunbi timidly. She's trying a diplomatic approach here—it's all she knows in navigating life. Unfortunately, it won’t work here. "We're sorry. It won't happen again."

She smiles condescendingly. "So you know why you're here."

Irene's peaceful yet scary tone is exactly the reason for her English name, derived from the goddess of peace. She looks the part, too. Her pale skin can be the marble used to carve her most holy altar, and her sharp gaze can be replicated in it. She's like an older and more intimidating counterpart of Eunbi. She's smart as well, but not afraid to show it.

"I—I’m sorry," Eunbi says, realizing she's cornered into confession. It's as if all her speaking skills have evaporated in this room. It makes her nervous; you know so because her hand’s almost deathly cold in your touch. "We'll do anything to make it right." 

Irene clicks her tongue. "It doesn't work that way, miss Kwon. You two had sexual relations with a teacher. It isn't something that can be resolved with community service."

How did she know? You think and think, and all your suspicions, though they jump from Taeyeon (she's in the wrong here, too, so why should she be suspected when she's at as much risk in getting trouble?) to Minju (why the angel, out of all people?) to anybody else, all lead to one person: 

Jo Yuri. Of course it was her. But how?

You suppose that doesn't matter now that you're in Irene's office again. What's worse is that you brought Eunbi with you, the one person you swore you wouldn't toss into all your trouble. It feels like betraying her and everything your relationship has promised.

"Look," you say, taking a step forward, "we're sorry. Really. But please just let me take the blame. Suspend me or something. Just please don't hurt professor Kim or Eunbi, miss Bae."

"How touching, Kim Taeyeon's got you head over heels for her. I wonder what made you like her that much."

"Nothing, miss Bae. It was… just a one-time thing."

"I see, so the word 'mommy' doesn’t ring a bell?"

You stiffen. So does Eunbi, suddenly losing grip of your hand and losing her balance a little. In conclusion: yea, that word rings not only a bell, but a whole fucking gong in your mind.

Of course, Irene sees through this and rolls her eyes to heaven, as if she were making fun of you telepathically to an unknown deity. "Oh, so it does, huh?" she says, lifting her hands in the air. It's obvious, really, and she should have expected it. "Of course. One woman treats you like shit during sex and you drool for her. Of-fucking-course."

Your professional principal daring to curse in front of her students catches you off guard. But you know that, despite this, she's right. There are a lot of deeply internalized issues in you and Eunbi that would have reserved the right to be connected to the fling. These issues are the reason you like Taeyeon after all, but justifying the situation using them won't help your case at all. Irene doesn't take kindly to beggars of pity.

She walks over to the two of you. You subconsciously back away. It's instinctive, and you really should have gone through with what your gut tells you when the woman continues.

"I wonder how you ended up with miss Kwon then, if that's your type." Irene approaches her lookalike and laughs a little. "This little girl can't even get on top without begging for your dick five seconds later."

"That's not true," Eunbi stutters. She tenses up when the older woman strokes her shoulders. "I, I take control all the time, miss Bae. You can't just assume…"

If whatever's going on weren't putting your life at stake, you'd let out the biggest laugh to ever be heard by man. It's just insanely untrue. Eunbi's the most passive girl you've had the blessing to be with. It's just not in her to dominate in the bedroom. Debates and civil arguments in school are all things she tops, but when it comes to you, it's just out of the question.

"Then show me," Irene says. Massaging the girl's shoulders, her smirk creates a new punishment for you to abide by. "Show me how you control your bad little boyfriend."

The anxious, whimpering Eunbi has no time to think about how fucked up this is. She grabs your shoulders and pushes you to Irene's desk. She kisses you clumsily, tearing your uniform with shaking hands. 

Her lips create a path downwards your chest. She unbuckles your belt and drops to her knees. You breathe through your teeth when her mouth works itself on your cock. Down, up, down, up, and a sweet little kiss at the tip. Perfect for you, but not for your principal, who has higher standards, apparently.

Irene smirks, shaking her head pitifully. "Darling," she says before she kneels before you, too, "you really don't know how to do this, do you?"

Eunbi shakes her head. The fact that she's ashamed is, unlike her claim earlier, not a lie.

"Ah." In a sudden affectionate and motherly act, Irene rubs the student's thigh. "You're better off being a good little girl, is that it?" 

"Mmm. Yes."

“You’d rather be your oppa’s submissive little doll? Do anything he wants?”

“Y-yes, miss Bae.”

"That won't do here. You have to pay for what you've done, or else it wouldn't be fair."

Eunbi whines. Is it in protest or pleasure? Irene's fingers have crept under her skirt and to regions they're supposed to be restricted from. The cause is probably a mix of both, but you can guess what they're doing when you see Eunbi grinding down on your principal's hidden hand. 

"How about this?" Irene offers to you. "Miss Kwon and I will take turns on you. We test out who can dominate you better, and whoever does gets to do whatever they want to the rest."

"Miss Bae—" 

Irene pulls her fingers out of Eunbi and spanks her. Your girlfriend gasps and her hips flinch. Yeah,  apparently, there's no way to back out of this. "Close the door, slut. Lock it. You, shut the blinds. I don't want to get in trouble for fucking you spoiled brats."

There's truly no resistant bone in Eunbi's body with how quickly she scampers to the door. You can't say you're any better. You and your girlfriend obey the principal's orders like you're her pets, and perhaps that's a little true. Maybe this is the beginning of something new. Something a little screwed up, yeah, but new.

Whatever this is, you hope it'll get you out of getting your life royally fucked over. You used to not give a damn if that ever happened, but when Eunbi's on your side, you become more cautious. 

(If you were in a better state of mind, you’d recognize how having sex with your principal can and will contribute to your cautiousness going to no avail, but you’ve got two gorgeous women kneeling in front of you. What else is better than this?)

"Sit down." Irene pushes you down her swivel chair. "We're gonna have fun with you first. Call this a little," she winks, "practice session."

Your heart almost stops. You're thrust down even more into the cushion, and the foreign feeling of the principal's tongue provides an aching rush of blood to your cock. Meanwhile, Eunbi attends to your heavy balls, licking and sucking at the sensitive flesh. 

Your skin is on fire. The two beautiful women smear their salivas on your erection. Their tongues collide at times, making Eunbi recoil in shock at times, but not for too long that your penis is devoid of attention. Irene doesn’t mind at all. She’s fine with the occasional dab of her tongue on Eunbi’s mouth, and coating the sheen of saliva she’s left with more. No inch is left needy—while Irene teases your base with sharp licks between smirks, the other girl sloppily makes out with your dickhead. 

"Stop. You don't want your boyfriend here to think he can do anything he wants to you.” Irene’s rough fist stiffens the mast of your erection, and although it's pleasurable, it's also painful. Her speed is too much for a start to the show. "You need to put him in his place. Do it because you want to feel good about it, not him."

"B-but…"

"I'll show you."

Eunbi departs from your crotch and Irene does… well, nowhere near leaving, that's for sure. It's like your cock was just liquid streaming down her throat with how fast she takes you in. Her mouth is small, but she swallows it all expertly. Her hands tie your thighs down to the chair.

Being in Irene's mouth is a wet dream. Literally. Her slick tongue and cheeks rub your tip. They're just appetizers for the main course: her delectable throat that's thin and tight on you. She's almost forcing you to deal with her relentless blowing, betting her career that you can't withstand it. She doesn't need innocent, Bambi eyes to make it appealing when she has that goddess-like face, yet you have to prove her wrong.

But then she wraps her soft, jutted lips around your base and elegantly slides them up with puckered suction. She's not even fucking your rod with her throat anymore and you automatically say something you shouldn't have:

"Mommy, please."

Irene stops and smiles at Eunbi. "See what I'm saying?" she says with overflowing satisfaction. "It just comes naturally to him, doesn't it? Now it's your turn. Make me proud."

The pupil obeys. When has she ever done anything but that? You aren't complaining, though; her pretty mouth ranks up in their competition. 

The two women are so different in so many different ways. Eunbi's gentle blowing, her eyes glimmering with broken innocence that always dart to your face to see if you're enjoying, is far from Irene's harsh one. She bluntly licks at your tip, sparking precum to drip into her mouth, before she slowly takes it all in. Again, widely different compared to Irene's experienced swallow, but who's keeping note? You sure aren't; you're just glad to have the best of both worlds.

"That's a good girl," Irene says. She gathers Eunbi's hair into a makeshift ponytail to help her out. "Don't be afraid to go a little crazy. If you do a good job I might just play with your cute little pussy."

Eunbi shuts her eyes and moans. Your breath is long gone with how her soft, pleasured sounds vibrate on your cock. If that weren't enough, she's lifting her head up and down with a pace that's a little quicker than before, nudging your cock deep inside her mouth. It's past that, actually; your cockhead slips down the end and bears the overwhelming feeling of her airway blocked by your girth.

"M-mmmph!"

"Aw, poor girl's choking," Irene remarks mockingly. "What's the matter, miss Kwon? Can't take it?"

Eunbi tries to surprise her by taking it all down. Unfortunately, it’s too much for her. Instead, she whimpers and chokes. 

While she gags, you moan without shame. "I'm gonna cum, baby," you announce. Your cock feels like it's going to burst with her throat spasming around it. 

Her lips tighten around your tip. It successfully manages to flow your cum directly into her mouth. Irene jacks you off to help out. The younger girl's mouth is soon flooded with the natural waterfall of your cum. It could turn into a natural disaster; Eunbi’s already struggling to save all your load. 

"Don't swallow it. Come here."

Irene forces Eunbi's face to hers and kisses her deeply. Your girlfriend's hands are frozen in the air as they share your cum. The older woman’s hand imprisons her jaw in place so she can greedily collect your cum from the passive mouth. You see the shimmer of your semen as it’s passed from one tongue to another, hear the breathy moan of your girlfriend, feel your cock become more solid.

Irene swallows whatever she's gotten and, as an end to the makeout session, licks the other girl's plump, cumstained lips. "Ah, you’re really delicious," she says. "And your girlfriend's so cute. No wonder professor Kim likes you two so much."

You’re still in shock at the sight, but the mention of your professor gets you to make another comparison with said woman. She and Irene are alike, too, but differ so much as well. They’re both violent, but at least Taeyeon has a nice streak in her; she attended to you after the violent copulation in the classroom. Irene's gentle gestures are done only to please her will. But even with those contrasting traits set in the Venn diagram, you can't choose between the two of them: the dominant principal or the quietly pretty professor? 

Irene pulls Eunbi's hair mercilessly, yanking her head backwards and exposing her beautiful neck. "It's just too bad that she's terrible at being a mommy," she murmurs. Her fingers trace the large tits threatening to burst out of the buttoned fabric. "Such a perfect body for it, but completely useless."

"Oppa, that's not true, right?" asks Eunbi, squirming. "I'm good at being your girl, aren't I?"

"Who was a better mommy, baby boy? Me or her?"

It's not even a question. As much as your heart is biased towards the girl who owns it, it's obviously—

"You, mommy."

"Oppa!" Eunbi protests. She looks genuinely hurt. It's the first time she's ever been second place in anything, and it hits her right where it's already sore.

Irene's grin is smug. It's beautiful, but actually terrifying. It's a sign that everything will only go downhill from here. "What should I do with you two now, hm?" 

"Please,” says Eunbi. Struggling to compose herself now that the principal is playing with her breasts, she fights to say anything without moaning. “Please give me one more chance, mom– miss Bae… please, I'll be good—oh, I'll be so good—"

Your principal drags Eunbi up by her hair. "Stand over there if you're so good, mommy." One swift push sends her stumbling to the edge of her desk. 

Eunbi, sniffling through her tears, awaits her next order. There's something in her face aside from the wet tears; it's a tale of how much she wants to be as good as Irene at using you that competes with her desire to please her. She's been a people-pleaser all her life, and it's hard to break its shackles, especially when Irene orders her to grind herself down the end of her desk, with one rule:

“Don’t cum until I say so.”

The panties slip off her plentiful thighs. She closes her eyes as she settles her nub over the edge of the wooden desk. Slowly, she starts to move.

"F-fuck." Eunbi places a shaking palm over her mouth.

"Exactly what your boyfriend's going to do to me," quips Irene. "See, this is how you put a man in his place." 

She tears her pencil skirt apart with no hesitation. After, she confidently sits on your lap, filling her cunt to the hilt. You tense up; her round ass on your lap is a blessing alone, but when it comes to her cunt, it’s a whole heavenly reward. Although Irene speaks and acts with nothing other than confidence, if not arrogance, her pussy is too tight for your cock to even pulse. When it barely does, her textured velvety walls cease it with a firm clench.

“Holy shit, mommy. You’re so”—between gritted teeth, you groan and rest your hands on Irene’s ant waist—“fucking tight.”

“I know,” says Irene. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

The whole situation is sinful. Watching your girlfriend having nothing to do but touch herself on the inanimate object and helplessly watch the two of you fuck is one thing, but Irene’s perfect ass on your lap is in another world. Galaxy might be more accurate. The melody of their moans causes you to struggle in keeping yourself from cumming too fast, but it’s already a challenge with Irene’s pussy fucking itself on you. She’s as tight as she looks, and probably would have been the ruinable type if she weren’t the way she is.

She leans back into your chest and caresses the side of your face with a surprisingly gentle hand. With timed movements, she lifts herself off and on your erection. Her folds splay apart to welcome you inside, into a whole, slick world. “I guess he’s all mine now, yeah?” she asks Eunbi. “He seems to like mommy better, Eunbi-ya.”

When she’s fingered and forced the girl to sexually stimulate herself on her table, there’s no need for even the polite formalities. There’s not even a chance for it to resurface when Eunbi’s already tearing up. 

“Oppa likes me, too,” she says. The jealousy brewing like a potion cauldron inside her drives her gyrations on the desk to go faster. It’s a fucked up coping mechanism for the sight in front of her. “You still like me best, don’t you, oppa?”

“Of course… fuck”—forget what you’re saying when Irene grinds her hips in circles and bounces her ass cheeks into your lap—“of course I do.”

She certainly knows her way around a dick. Her seductive rounds on your crotch and the measured riding just tell you that she’s had way more than enough experience in this realm, which, in terms of that, places her first. Eunbi’s a sore loser who doesn’t like that fact, but you can’t rig her a place anyway.

“But listen to how he’s moaning, babygirl,” Irene points out. You really don’t intend to moan again in order to avoid hurting Eunbi’s feelings, but Irene keeps a consistent squeeze of her vaginal walls on you and makes all go awry. “He loves my pussy. He loves it when I use him. I presume it’s not the same when it’s with you?”

Try to shut her up by rubbing her clit, but she only murmurs a series of “yes”’s. Besides, the damage, although fired from simple words, is already done; Eunbi’s quivering bottom lip is as clear as day.

“He loves me,” she whines. She squeezes the table tighter, as if the vicinity of the wood can help magick up a proper way to get her to become the mommy she just isn’t. “Hnn. He, he likes me because I’m a good girl.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Irene says, her sarcastically rolled eyes unimpressed. “You’re young. You should know being good is outdated. If he likes it, then he shouldn’t be fucking me right now.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you say. You stop thrusting upwards into Irene, but she keeps bouncing. The stimulation remains constant. 

You really can’t find your way out of this. Irene’s weight, though light, keeps you on the chair and void of anything to do to break it all up. Your legs already feel weak at her pace. It’s as if she’s completely unaware of how tight and wet she is and therefore subjects you to it, thinking that you can handle it. But of course, she’s an intelligent, self-aware woman—she knows her effect on you, and she isn’t hesitant to exploit it.

Eunbi sobs as she grinds down the edge of the table harder. She can’t take watching you and Irene fuck anymore. "Mommy, please.”

"’Mommy’? Not putting up a fight anymore, are you, pretty little girl?" Irene asks. She pouts mockingly. "Gonna give up?"

Eunbi shakes her head. "No…"

"Alright, if you aren’t, use me. Use your boyfriend. We’ll see what happens."

Your girlfriend bursts into tears. It’s no mere tear sliding down her cheek anymore. It’s a whole fiasco of whiny crying and childish protests. Of course, it’s not in her to fight Irene. She’s remained a diplomatic civil debater, not a physical one. At times she doesn’t even counter an argument, similar to now, when she weakly replies, "B-but I don’t know how.”

“Come on. You’re smart, aren’t you? You can win over me.”

“Mmm, please just let me cum, mommy. Please."

"Do it. I dare you."

"Mommy—"

"Do it."

"I—I can't!" Eunbi says this in a tone that’s nearly a scream as she struggles to keep herself standing. "Please don't take him away from me, I'm a good girl, I swear, I swear!"

“Oh, look at her, baby.” Irene strengthens the force of her riding. It draws you nearer to an orgasm. “She wants you so bad. She wants to be your mommy so bad.”

Eunbi’s explicit moans and Irene’s soft gasps contribute equally with the silken pussy in draining you. You fill Irene up to the brim. As she stands, white drips down her naked legs.

“You want to be a mommy so bad?” 

Irene slips her fingers inside herself, scooping out white liquid, then walks over to the quaking valedictorian. Under the guise of the skirt, she sticks the cum-stained fingers into the needy little hole.

“Then fucking be one.”

“Mommy!” 

Eunbi screams when Irene stuffs her cunt and fingers her violently. Her legs close together, and suddenly she’s creaming all over the fingers moving unabashedly inside her. Wetness is wrung out repeatedly, and strings of arousal connect and disconnect between the joined fingers.

“Mommy, miss Bae, hnnn…” mumbles Eunbi, mind fogged with pleasure, “mommy—”

“Shhh, that’s a girl, miss Kwon,” Irene says as she offers the nectar-coated fingers to the girl’s mouth. Eunbi gladly accepts. 

To your surprise, Irene seems gentle this time. She pats your girlfriend’s back firmly, even wiping the drool on her lips. Maybe it’s the satisfaction of making both a girl and a boy orgasm. That’s all you can guess.

“You haven’t fucked me like you did mommy,” Eunbi protests. “I want you, too, please?”

“You heard the girl,” Irene says. She’s all for another go. She seems to be the only one not tired between the three of you. Her arrogant smile has not once lost its shine. “She wants to be fucked. Or do you not like her little pussy the same way you love mine?”

That triggers Eunbi to look up with tearful eyes. “Oppa, do you…?”

“Of course not. You can have me all you like.”

“Darlings,” pipes in Irene, “you seem to be forgetting someone here. That isn’t part of the deal.”

Of course. You’re still under the invisible contract she set. As the obvious winner of the battle of wills and domination, she gets to have the nicer end of the deal: to do anything she wants with the two of you. Whatever happens here has to involve her. No one’s going to be left out here.

How should it go?

“I want that mouth on my pussy, miss Kwon,” decides Irene, sitting on her throne (AKA as the swivel chair.) “And I want you to fuck her. Really fuck her. I want to see her break.”

So that’s how it goes, since Eunbi’s too kind to propose another way. She crawls between Irene’s legs, greedily eating the cum out of her, while you pound her from behind. 

Eunbi’s wide hips are just irresistible. They fit right into your hands and serve as anchors to pull you in and out of her. The skirt, instead of infuriating you with how much it blocks your view of her ass and grippy pussy, drives you more insane.

And when you look up, there’s Irene, with her legs spread wide for Eunbi to stay. It’s nice of the deities to create a world where there are so many beautiful women, and for two to be right by your side currently. Maybe you gotta thank the Greek statue that’s privy to the whole thing—you’re pretty sure she’s part of the whole god gang. Whatever. 

Irene’s hands aren’t sedentary. They tug onto the wavy hair for its owner to tongue her core more. The pussy-eating thing is an act of jealousy from Eunbi, really—part of the reason she agreed to eat her out is so she can drink your cum straight from where you deposited it. Safe to say it’s a win-win situation.

“Fuck, you’ve got a good mouth, miss Kwon,” says Irene. She bites her lip, and hisses. “Just like that.”

Even with all she’s done to her, Eunbi mewls in appreciation. Or maybe it’s your cock causing that. Yeah, definitely your cock. You make it a purpose to stretch her out and keep her pretty cunt stuffed. Gently stimulate her bundle of nerves for her skirted ass to reverse back into your crotch.

“Oppa—” Eunbi says, her voice reaching another high pitch due to the pleasure.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” Irene sharply reminds her. “Don’t stop or he won’t fuck you anymore.”

Eunbi gets back to work, moaning after you penetrate her again. You may have fucked Irene, but she still remains in control here. She just solidifies her place in the little contest she and Eunbi had. Your girlfriend, ever the grumpy loser, vents her frustration in eating her principal out, evoking broken gasps from her.

“Aw, don’t be too jealous, Eun,” you say to Eunbi. Her tight pussy is an everyday heaven you, a sinner, are given a free pass to relish in. “You’re still my good girl.”

You can feel her cunt tighten at your words. Eunbi closes her eyes and whimpers while she sucks on Irene’s clit. Her nose presses against the older woman’s flat stomach. 

“She really likes being called that, huh?” chuckles Irene, ruffling Eunbi’s hair. 

“She does.” Thrust into her particularly hard. “She’s a sweet girl.”

Eunbi’s body trembles. Unable to deal with the flood of praises, she tonguefucks Irene’s hole harshly, suppressing her heavy breaths in the pink flesh. 

“Is that what you want to be, miss Kwon?” Irene allows Eunbi to take a breather and lifts her chin up, but renders her breathless anyway with the next set of words. “Mommy and daddy’s sweet little girl?”

The girl’s walls twitch around you, and you hear her whine again. She’s always like that, the poor thing, but now, it’s urgent—it goes on, prolonged with need and desire, that you have to pull her into your lap, cock still lodged inside her, and say: “Use your words, baby.”

She’s a little taken aback, but she’s nodding. Breathing through her mouth in shaky little exhales, Eunbi nods. “Y-yes, please,” she says, as if in a trance. “Mommy. Daddy.”

You and Irene don’t get along too well due to your history of troubles, but you immediately understand each other when you gaze into each other’s eyes. You don’t say a word, but there’s no need for any when her lips are already on Eunbi’s. 

It’s a quick change of positions. You bring her over to the desk again. This time, she’s not merely here to watch, but to indulge in the pleasure of having the two of you at the same time. Buttons fly in the air as Irene rips the school blouse apart. She bares the bouncing tits of any bra then immediately goes to worshiping them. Eunbi’s nipple ends up in her mouth and hardens at the suckles. It was as if she were determined to draw out milk from them. 

“Look at you,” she says. Irene admires the round, full bosom before her, tracing a hand along the flesh. “Walking around with a body like this shouldn’t be allowed.”

“Mommy,” says Eunbi. She shivers when you fill her up. “Daddy, please. I’m yours.”

“Oh, you are.” Irene plays with the perfect collarbone for a while before edging her hand up to her throat. There, she squeezes tight. “Trust me.”

You squeeze Eunbi’s breasts and kiss them. You don’t think there would ever be a time you wouldn’t appreciate her beautiful tits. Irene seems to have discovered their beauty, too, for the two of you start to worship them. Irene takes left, you go right. Each one provides more than a supple amount of softness that with each bite, squeeze and suck makes Eunbi clamp down on your cock more. 

“Baby boy,” Irene whispers. She’s never looked this motherly, yet so seductive. “Remember when I said I wanted you to break her? I still expect you to do it.”

“I’d want nothing more,” you reply.

“Daddy, mommy, w-what are you going to do to me?”

“Bend over, miss Kwon,” instructs Irene, “we’re going to give you what you want.”

Eunbi happily does, and thanks her by slipping her fingers inside her. They immediately set a quick pace to keep her on her toes. 

“God, fuck her,” Irene says. “She’s earned it.”

Your girlfriend’s never been so glad to hear something from the principal. The praise earlier is a close competitor, but when these words are the cause of your cock to begin thrusting again, she still prefers these. 

“Fuck, daddy!”

You match the pace of her fingers in Irene’s pussy. You choose to go brutally, putting her out of her long misery by filling her over and over again. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, please!” Her eyes are shut, and her body is still except for the movements driven by your thrusts, but her fingers still fuck Irene’s waiting pussy. She’s a true multi-tasker, this girl. 

How many times has she begged like this today? You don’t know, but it’s the first time that she’s calling you the name. It surprises even yourself that it turns you on. It drives a forbidden feeling deep in your chest that’s exactly what fuels your thrusts. 

She’s finally fulfilled after being kept at the side for practically the whole time, so her screams are also of relief. She squirts so goddamned easily that each thrust is slick and messy. Her folds spare not a second of releasing your cock. No, it holds on, and it’s all too messy. Sinful. Incredibly immoral. 

“That’s it, take my cock, Eunbi,” you groan. The words just come naturally to you, because when she’s absolutely writhing underneath you and her pussy is that tight, you become a philosopher with a way with words. You can write several doctrines about how fucking ruinable she is, how her body’s just fit for your cock, how her thin whines are strung out so deliciously that you could never think of stopping. 

After everything that’s happened, she’s still your girl. She’s still the one you want to take to bed. She’s just that good.

“Daddy, mommy, fuck—me!” she screams. Eunbi’s tears come flowing back. They pour down her pretty face and onto the desk. If there was paperwork getting done on this desk, they’re replaced by Eunbi.

You think she’s gone crazy. Her voice is strained and her fingers almost painfully shove themselves in Irene, like they’re machine-controlled. All different sounds are extracted from her sore throat: moans, screams, and gasps—you think you’ve broken her.

You guess that’s enough payment for Irene.

Irene’s groans and cries are loud; her legs squeeze around Eunbi’s wrist. “D-don’t fucking stop,” she warns. You sense that there’d be more than what punishment is if the girl dares to halt. Eunbi knows better than to, anyway. She continues fingering Irene, exploring the cave of her tight hole and pressing down on her G-spot. 

Eunbi closes her eyes as Irene’s cum sprays her. Now she really looks ruined. She’s already covered in her tears and drool. You guess that soon, she’d be covered in you.

You slip out to flick your cock against her clit. 

“Ahhh, daddy!”

“That’s right. Cum for daddy, baby.”

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck, daddy! Keep rubbing my clit like that, it feels so good… it feels so warm, please don’t stop!”

“Cum for me.”

“Daddy!” wails Eunbi. 

Everything is a mess of moans and squirting. Eunbi screams in pleasure, shaking as her folds remain determined to swallow every inch of your cock even after her orgasm, and Irene’s to your left riding her digits, crying out as if she were in a war. And you guess that yea, maybe it is a war—a war of good and evil, a war of the overachievers (that brings a chuckle out of you), a war of sex. 

But in the end, in a feat that no one’s ever seen, everybody wins.

-

Dear Ms. Jo,

This is regarding your recent concern about Ms. Kwon Eunbi. 

I find that the evidence you provided to me is altered and has been tampered with. After further questioning with teachers and staff, I can conclude that your concern is dismissed and shall only subject you to disciplinary action.

It is strictly prohibited to spread harmful falsehood about your fellow schoolmates. Please see me after class tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Principal Bae Irene/Joohyun

[gingerjolover]

masterlist :')

requests are currently CLOSED (asks are always open to submit ideas but will go to the bottom of the list🫶🏻)

while some of my writing is PG/PG-13, this blog contains content unsuitable for minors. 18+ only, minors gtfo!

**-** smut

who I write for!

Lucy Dacus

Unspoken - Lucy and crew!reader don't have to say it but they're in looooove

Warm Like the Breeze - Lucy and her gf cuddle on a daybed before tour

Sweet Angel - Lucy's gf has chronic pain, so she wears many different hats - nurse, dog mom, and sweet angel from heaven above

Pet Names - blurb

**Dom!Lucy** - blurb

**Bothering Lucy** - blurb

What I want - mini fic (gingy’s halloweekend)

Lazy Day - mini fic (gingybread's holidaze)

Julien Baker

Sleep It Off - Julien has had a rough few weeks, resulting in some conflict with her soft!gf :(

Dirty Shirlies - Julien doesn't like when randos talk to her girl (possessive!julien in the house)

Pet Names - blurb

Julien's Accent - blurb

#28 This is not what I expected - six-word prompts (mini fic)

**Electrolytes** - after a separate night out, julien just wants to spend time with her gf <3

Possessive + Protective - blurb

Taking care of you - blurb (TW: ED)

Princess - blurb

#30 I can't risk losing you again - six-word prompts (mini fic) (gingy's halloweekend)

Ariana! What are you doing here? - soft!gf is doing jb's makeup on Halloween and she just can't sit still (gingy's halloweekend)

Pumpkin carving - blurb (gingy's halloweekend)

Detangle - Julien's gf helps her get unready after BG's Halloween show at the Hollywood Bowl :') (gingy's halloweekend)

Ice Skating - blurb (gingybread's holidaze)

Looooover - blurb (gingybread's holidaze)

(Ginger)bread House Battle - blurb (gingybread's holidaze)

Mini Telecaster Ornament - blurb (gingybread's holidaze)

Winter Wedding +1 - blurb (gingybread's holidaze)

The Love Nest - mini fic (controversially young!gf universe)

Phoebe Bridgers

Taking care of you - blurb (TW: ED)

Lasagna - Phoebe's had a long day at the studio and her gf knows exactly what to do when she needs comfort

**She's a biter** - blurb - part 1 - part 2

Pet Names - blurb

Pumpkin Patch - blurb (gingy's halloweekend)

Mistletoe - blurb (gingybread's holidaze)

Katie Gavin

Don't let Go - Katie teaches their sweet (and scared) gf how to rollerbade!

Pet Names - blurb

#22 I don't want to hear it - six-word prompts (mini fic) (gingy's halloweekend)

Happy Not Birthday - katie's gf hates her bday but loves katie <3

Early morning walk - christmas morning domestic vibes

Jo Maskin

Hidden Meanings - Soft!gf reader always gifts flowers for Jo with hidden meanings <3

#4 Don't talk to me ever again - six-word prompts (mini fic)

Missing you - blurb

Pet Names - blurb

For the bit - mini fic (gingy’s halloweekend)

Untitled V-day Fic - (gingy's cupid shuffle)

Naomi McPherson

Calming you down - blurb

#7 I can't stop thinking of you - six-word prompts (mini fic)

Pet Names - blurb

Mornings - mini fic

Mornings Pt 2 (Bob the Builder) - mini fic (gingybread's holidaze)

Taking care of drunk soft!gf - blurb (gingy’s halloweekend)

Pumpkin seeds - blurb (gingy's halloweekend)

NYE Jealousy HC - blurb (gingybread's holidaze)

Untitled Angst - preface

You're Losing Me - Part 1

You're Losing Me - Part 2

You're Losing Me - Part 3

You're Losing Me - Part 4 (Coming soon!)

Boygenius

Types of dates - blurb

Commitment styles - blurb

MUNA

Couple Halloween costumes - blurb (gingy's halloweekend)

Munagenius

The Group Chat - blurb

"We're munagenius's gfs, of course..." - blurb

[prodbymaui]

Phantom Limb (Equidistant)

did we come close to having it all?

PAIRING: jeong jaehyun x you

GENRE: slice of life; the hows of us

TEASER WC: 848 words

SYNOPSIS: Between the distance of sorrys and goodbyes, where does 'us' lies?

RELEASE DATE: October 30, 2023

TAGLIST: open !! (you can send an ask or comment your usn)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you have questions, you can send an ask. and NO, I didn't re-write the whole movie and replaced Jaehyun's name. the teaser is just a teaser and the actual fic will have a lot more which will be different from the movie.

YOU WERE YOUNG.

''Hmm this is how it feels when you've finally bought something with your own money, huh, Jo?''

''Jo? Is that the name of your ex or side chick?''

''What.. No.'' Jaehyun chuckles. ''Jo in scottish means darling, sweetheart–.. beloved.''

''Pfft, fine. I like that. Jo..''

YOU DREAMED TOGETHER.

''When we're both finally stable and successful in life, wouldn't you be arrogant?''

''Arrogant? Why would I be?''

''Because your boyfriend is the world's most famous singer.''

His imaginations emit a hearty scoff from you. ''Then you're arrogant by then as well.''

''Uh-huh, and why is that?''

''Because your girlfriend, the president of your fansclub, is the doctor who found cures to cancers and rare diseases.''

''And I would be so proud of you when that happens.''

''Someday, love.''

''Someday, Jo.''

THERE WERE UPS.

''Happy birthday, the love of my life!''

''Thank you so much, baby! You didn't have to!''

''Uh-uh, I have to and I want to. You've been juggling studying and working at the same time and I know it has been hard. A great woman like my love only deserves the best of the bests.''

''You're such a sap. I love you, Jeong.''

''I love you, Jo. So much that it hurts.''

THERE WERE DOWNS.

''Jaehyun? Could you maybe wash the dishes before you go? I'm just really short of time.''

''I'm sorry, Jo, but I need to go. All the guys are there and you know how they go when practicing by themselves.''

''Oh.. I'll do the dishes. You take care, hmm?''

''Dude, are you tone-deaf? You're literally fucking out of tune.''

''What do you mean, bro? I think it sounds fine.''

''No, no, you're not fucking hitting the right note. You know what? Get out.''

''Jaehyun–''

''Get the fuck out of my house. What the fuck is happening to musicians nowadays? If they're not taking it seriously, they're fucking tone-deaf.''

''Love, maybe you should rest first.. ?''

YET YOUR LOVE WAS STRONGER.

''Girl, be honest with me. Are you still studying? Your life before used to be all about studying, studying, studying, and a sprinkle of Jaehyun. But now it's all Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun.''

''Rosé, come on. You know we're still waiting for Jaehyun's biggest break. After that, I can focus back on studying.''

''And if that break doesn't happen?''

''Don't be so negative!''

STORMS AFTER STORMS.

''Hello? Do you know anyone named Jeong Jaehyun?''

''Hi, yes. That's my boyfriend. May I ask why you're calling from his phone?''

''You might wanna pick him up, he's dead drunk, been here since last night and won't leave. I'll just text the address from his number, I guess.''

''A-alright, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience–''

''Oh, and you might want to bring extra cash with you. His 7k bill is not yet paid, not even a penny.''

''Rosé–''

''Where the fuck are you? You can't miss this exam!''

''I-I'm coming, I just.. Jaehyun– fuck, he's–''

''Fuck him! Just leave him alone! A few minutes left and we're gonna start. This is a bar exam, get that shit inside your head! Get your ass here if you don't want all your efforts to go to waste.''

''Rosé..''

''Please, you don't deserve this. Think about all those nights you stayed up to study. I'm sure Jaehyun will understand..''

''I.. Okay– okay, I'm coming.''

''I love you, best friend. Jaehyun will understand, okay?''

You cradle Jaehyun's face in your hands, brushing his hair out of his face as if your own isn't a mess along with the tears running. Jaehyun looks through the hazy film of his eyes, he sobs with you.

''I'm sorry, love. I'm so so sorry– God– I'm sorry. Just this one time, please? Just this once, I need to take this exam. I'll call Eunwoo to pick you up.''

Giving one last kiss on your lover's forehead, you quickly catch a taxi and close the door on Jaehyun's face. You bury your face in your hands as you stifle your sobs. Maybe you can stop worrying. Eunwoo will pick him up, he's Jaehyun's best friend.

AND YOU WONDER..

But as you turn your head, Jaehyun with his clothes wrinkled lays on the cold ground, in his own pool of vomit. As he meets your eyes, he starts reaching out to you. For you.

You're just a lover. One that has so much love for Jeong Jaehyun.

The tires screech as you plead stop to the taxi driver, giving him the last of your money before running towards your boyfriend who's grunting and murmuring.

Your heart hurts at the worst state you've ever seen Jaehyun. The ache only gets unbearable as you take him in your arms and carry all his weight. Your heart.. it's as if being squeezed a thousand times, getting pricked with thorns.  

''Just leave him alone!'' Rosé's voice rings in your head.

''I'm sorry.. I can't.'' You whisper an apology. Not to anyone, no.

Because as you fix Jaehyun, clean Jaehyun, tuck him in bed– no one deserves an apology from you more than yourself.

IS IT ALL WORTH IT?

[idontplaytrack]

Masterlist🔖

Updated master post is pinned! 📌

Index: 🤍-sfw • ❤️‍🔥-nsfw

Brooklyn Nine-Nine🚓

Rosa Diaz

“you’re a softie.” 🤍

“bye, softie jr.” 🤍

Tough 🤍

Hermosa 🤍

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit🤝

Olivia Benson

Bad Rep 🤍

Mama Bear 🤍

First 🤍

Sick 🤍

Mean Girls(2024)💄

Janis ‘Imi’ike

Closet ❤️‍🔥

all the things that could go wrong 🤍 *

good problem to have❤️‍🔥*

I Want Coffee ❤️‍🔥

‘…a lot of things happen in parked cars.’ ❤️‍🔥

Jersey 48 🤍

You & I 🤍

Jealousy, jealousy ❤️‍🔥

Watch Me❤️‍🔥

Animal ❤️‍🔥

Like A Koala 🤍

Pick Up The Phone 🤍

Back to Red ❤️‍🔥

Answer Me ❤️‍🔥

Heaven Lost An Angel ❤️‍🔥

Honeymoon ❤️‍🔥

"God, you're crazy." ❤️‍🔥

Sundress ❤️‍🔥

Band-aids, candy or me 🤍

Flaws 🤍

I'd Rather Be Me(and be with you) 🤍

Distress 🤍

Stronger 🤍

Goodby to Spring 🤍

Heels and shove 🤍

Revenge...party? 🤍

Talk Too Much ❤️‍🔥

Needy, Greedy, New York City ❤️‍🔥

Talk Is Cheap ❤️‍🔥

Your Favourite ❤️‍🔥

Twin Stranger 🤍

The Power(2023)⚡️

Jos Cleary-Lopez

Kissin’ U ❤️‍🔥

Flipping the bird 🤍

Sweet Revenge 🤍

Stress Eating ❤️‍🔥

Soaked ❤️‍🔥

Bruises 🤍

My Biggest Mistake 🤍

Hands Off ❤️‍🔥

Darby and the Dead(2022)🔌

Capri Donahue

Never Lost 🤍*

Listen ❤️‍🔥*

Backfired ❤️‍🔥

"Flowers? What for? 🤍

You Don’t Know Me 🤍

Snowed In? Step Up 🤍

Seeing Double ❤️‍🔥

Coming Home 🤍

Anything and everything 🤍

Crush(2022)🎨

AJ Campos

Safe & sound 🤍

‘Not even in your top 5’ 🤍

Her Work of Art ❤️‍🔥

Wait For You 🤍

Watch You Sleep ❤️‍🔥

Redeeming Win 🤍

My Girl ❤️‍🔥

Slow Hands ❤️‍🔥

Say You Won’t Let Go 🤍

I'll Take Care Of You 🤍

Midsummer Night 🤍

The Practice 🤍

Not A Word 🤍

Wrapped Around Your Fingers ❤️‍🔥

Play ❤️‍🔥

My Love, Mi Amor ❤️‍🔥

Charming 🤍

Into the future 🤍

The Good Girl ❤️‍🔥 [WIP]

Modern Family🖼️

Haley Dunphy

Stress Reliever ❤️‍🔥

Rise🎭

Lilette Suarez

Soulmate 🤍

Since We’re Alone 🤍

All Together Now🎙️

Amber Appleton

An Angel 🤍

Lost Cause 🤍

Birthday Morning 🤍

Delight ❤️‍🔥

Sing Me To Sleep 🤍

K.C. Undercover🔎

K.C. Cooper

Family Is Forever? 🤍

Bottle You Up 🤍

MY CHARMED ONE - CAPRI DONAHUE x FEM! READER MULTI-PART MASTERLIST

shenanigans- mean girls social media + texts fic

part 1: happy birthday

part 2: all this on a random friday?

part 3: you need some sleep

part 4: someone check on damian

part 5: go get laid then tell me

part 6: rules are rules lmao

part 7: meet my new bff

part 8: on main???!

part 9: one last date

part 10: my precious angel

part 10: alt ending

[muniimyg]

+ extra ! in our forever

series m.list

note: omg hiii ??? helloo ??? okok this was supposed to be posted for yoongi’s birthday... then i planned it to be written in time for my birthday/bts birthday... now it’s being posted mid summer.... like hello? where did the time go? i felt so stuck writing this extra because it feels more like the ending than the actual ending ? does that make sense lol... i planned to write their first kiss scene but honestly i don’t think i’ll be able to do so [unless i get the random urge to write it instead of studying for a final or smt] ! hoping to back more regularly when my work schedule stops being a bitch <3 slowly but surely,, my fics will continue to be deleted off my notes/drafts and pushed out frfr. thank u all of ur patience ,, i TRULY miss u all... laughing with u guys after every update literally gave me a reason to wake up and have smt to look forward to. i look forward to all of ur love and support for my upcoming / ongoing works. 

muwah muwah ,, kimi 💛✨🥂

ps… it’s lengthy y’all 💀 it’s to make up for being so mia HAHHAAA

warnings: smut & angst ,, MY FAVE DUO <3

taglist requests are closed !

taglist: @j3nnie101​ @tarahardcore​ @bbsantc​ @jeonqkooks-main​ @whoa-jo @ellesalazar​ @exhibitachol​ @pamzn​ @floweryjeons​ @boraength​ @4ksj​ @joonsjuice​ @taegijns​ @avtrns​ @taegix94​ @bloopkook​ @jihopesjoint​ @firesighgirl​ @vantxx95​ @damn-u-min-yoongi​ @yoongukie-ff​ @hopeworldjimin​ @thisisaburnphone​ @pb-n-juju​ @xjiminsthighsx​ @miss-rainy-days​ @percyjacksonlovesannabethchase​ @whitefoxgirl​ @slutforheeseung​​ @lovelytaes-blog​​

In the midst of the airport chaos, Yoongi finds you standing with a stupid sign that looks like it was decorated by your preschool students. 

It’s times like these when he can’t help but smile at how insufferable you are. Why are you so fucking cute? Standing there, looking for him in the sea of strangers with your warm greeting. It’s a sight he wishes to last forever. It makes his stomach turn knowing that it’s him you’re waiting for. It’s him you’re here for. 

It’s him. 

As usual, Yoongi finds you first and continues to let you look for him. He waits for your eyes to find his before he picks up his feet and makes his way to you. You smile, unable to hold yourself back from making your way to him as well. 

As you do so, Yoongi gets a closer and closer look at the sign. At that moment, his heart skips a beat, realizing that your preschool class knows about him.

The boyfriend. 

It’s such a simple label. It even sounds silly to say and even so; he never gets used to how it makes him feel. How excited he is to be yours and how others react to it... Something about little children running around the classroom, knowing their teacher ____ is loved and has a boyfriend makes him so happy. 

God, it’s so fucking embarrassing and it honestly doesn’t even matter... But why... Why was it consuming his mind so effortlessly? 

Though these thoughts and daydreams are so easily executed in his mind; being your boyfriend—the mere title of it—has him in shambles. He will never get used to this privilege. So, it’s only natural that he wonders if you talk about him to them just as much. He wonders if they’ve asked you any silly questions like... If you two have ever kissed or if you two were ever going to get married.. Better yet; if you have any babies with him...

All valid questions 3 year old's could ask you! Even more valid questions for your boyfriend to ponder. 

You talk about your students so much. Like, it’s a little ridiculous! You talk about them as if they’re yours. With that, the idea of having a family with you is prone to linger in his mind. However, that’s way down the line..

He’d have to propose to you first; marry you second, and then have children with you. All the while, loving you forever. 

These thoughts, though dramatic and honestly a little extensive—consume him. It’s a little strange and overwhelming considering that you two haven’t been together for that long. Not to mention, he had just left for nearly and month. 

Yet, isn’t that how you two bloomed anyway? Testing and proving that absence does make the heart grow fonder. 

He gulps as he watches you rush to him. You squeal as he picks up his speed and meets you halfway. There, you practically fall into his arms. 

Nothing is better than this. 

Yoongi has only been away for three weeks, but it feels like it’s been forever. You’re so used to having him by your side and these past three weeks just felt like torture. All the texts and photo updates were simply not enough. If anything, they made missing him even worse. 

But that’s all over now.

Now, he’s here. He’s kissing your cheeks and holding you close. He doesn’t think he’ll ever let go.. Why should he? 

“I missed you,” Yoongi confesses in a rather whiney matter. It’s as if he wasn’t the one that left for a trip.. You clearly remember asking him if he really had to go. Then, he pouts with eyebrows knitting together. You tilt your head in response. “Ace...” 

You snicker at his whine.

“What?”

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Hahahaa! Yoongi, you just arrived—”

His lips crash into yours, kissing you so profoundly that your back arches and melts into his touch. Everyone is probably looking at you two—ever so the dramatic couple.

Oh, whatever.

You missed him too.

The boys are all patiently waiting for Yoongi back in his apartment. 

As you unlock the door, Yoongi drags his luggage in. Immediately, he’s greeted with a wave of affectionate yells and shoves. His friends, ever so the gentlemen, push him around so much until they all end up on the floor. Laughing together, you watch them help each other up. 

“We’re grown men. Stop embarrassing me in front of my girlfriend,” Yoongi reprimands his friends as he dusts himself off. The guys roll their eyes in response and you even scoff. 

“She was late to a game and you cried about it—”

Yoongi corrects his friend with a technicality. “I almost cried.”

“Same shit!” Jungkook laughs at Yoongi’s sad attempt to save face. He then wraps his arms around Yoongi and looks up at him with bambi eyes. “You know.. I’m really glad you’re back.”

“Why?”

“Because I was promised cotton candy if I showed up to your welcome home dinner... So where the fuck is it? Give it to me. Now.”

The boys exchange looks with one another. “Jungkook, we actually don’t have any cotton candy tonight... But, don’t you want to be here and spend time with us—”

“Fucking liars!” Jungkook flips everyone off before pushing Yoongi aside and exiting his apartment. 

Everyone stands there for a moment, unsure of what just happened.

“Did he really just leave?” Taehyung bursts into laughter. 

Before you know it, everyone joins in. Laughing together because Jungkook is so unhinged... Also because you all know Jungkook would be back in (give or take) 20 minutes.

Why?

It’s not like he has other friends that would put up with his dramatic ass. 

As expected, Yoongi kicks everyone out. 

They all hurry out, leaving a bit of a mess behind. You shake your head as you collect all the dishes and bring them to the sink. Soaking the dirty dishes, you scrape off any extras and set them aside. Meanwhile, Yoongi is in charge of sweeping, mopping, and putting anything Jin, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook played with away. 

“How the fuck did Nam Joon manage to leave his sock here?” 

“His what?”

“Sock. He left one.”

You throw your head back, laughing and recalling how chaotic tonight was.

“He didn’t even drink that much tonight... I think you drank more than him,” you comment, turning to face Yoongi. He pauses on wiping the table and rolls his eyes at you. 

“Nam Joon is lightweight.”

“Yeah?” you challenge him, “what are you?”

“Wanna find out?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Let’s see how sloppy I fuck you tonight.”

You send him a glare, trying your best to mask your amusement. How could he be so unhinged? “Min Yoongi!”

“Yes, Ace?”

“Behave!” 

He shrugs at you. “I’ve been behaving.. Don’t believe me? Punish me tonight.”

You gag at his line. He laughs a bit as you make a cringe face at him. “Is that why you wanted me to sleep over?”

“No,” Yoongi slurs. You raise your eyebrows, eyes softening, with a small grin. Yoongi folds; “... okay, fine.”

You chuckle.

“Shut up!” He defends himself.

“I didn’t say anything!” With that, you burst into laughter. 

To put into perspective, the idea of sleeping over occurred after a very mature and communicative compromise. The compromise was that Yoongi had won 2 of 3 in an intense rock, paper, scissors game and you (have to because you lost) decided to spend the next week in his apartment. This would be a great time to reconnect and catch up on his trip. Regardless if he called and texted you every day during it; it’s different seeing his face light up as he relives his stories. You love listening to him talk about the things he loves—oddly enough, you’re all he can talk about these days.

Nevertheless, Yoongi tells you about how great his trip with his brother was. Seeing a bunch of NBA games in real life made him feel like he was doing something for his inner child. He talks about how much his brother bickered with him and how their taste in food was exactly the same so every time they went to restaurants; they would argue about who should get the other dish instead of both of them ordering the same meals.

You’re glad he’s back. 

Having your friends over tonight was such a good reset and time together. Now, the night concludes with cleaning with the love of your life. Could the simple things in life get any better than this?

Your thoughts are put on pause as you feel Yoongi’s arms wrap around your waist. As you continue to rinse the dishes, he rests his chin on the crook of your neck. 

“___,” he murmurs into your skin. You put the last dish on the dishrack before turning your body to be face to face with him. Tilting your head at him, a little confused with the underlying look of seriousness on his face. “Do your preschoolers ever ask about me?”

“Hmm?” you hum, unsure of what he means. “What about you?”

Yoongi purses his lips. “Like.. Do they know I’m your boyfriend? Who they’re making a sign for and shit?”

“Well, to be honest… We’re not really allowed to be talking about our personal life—”

“Bullshit.”

“Language,” you warn him. 

He kisses you in apology. 

“My bad,” he pouts. “Come on, ___. You’ve talked about me to them, haven’t you?”

You laugh, not quite understanding why he’s suddenly getting so heated about this. Sure, you’ve mentioned him once or twice.. How could you not? You’ve been in love with Yoongi for so long; it’s practically second nature to you. “Why do you care so much?”

Yoongi huffs, letting go of you. In a stiff manner, he shrugs. “I mean… The sign was made by them, right? They must know about me.”

“Umm, sure,” you roll your eyes. It’s not like this was turning into an argument or anything… But it’s just such an odd direction for the conversation to be going. “Aki, they’re a bunch of 3-year-olds. What does it matter if they know about you or not? I just asked them to help me make a sign because I was running out of time—”

“Do they ever ask you about marrying me?”

Your eyes widen. 

“What? No!”

Yoongi blinks. 

“Do you not want to marry me?” Yoongi crosses his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. His chest tightens as he begins to feel offended. “Why’d you answer like that?”

“Like what?” you slightly panic. 

All his words are so new to you. He’s never been this straightforward… Or has he? Have you simply missed how seamless and blunt his words have been because you’ve been so into him? Suddenly, you can’t think straight. Now, you’re really confused. 

Was he getting angry?

Was he hurt?

From what? What did you say that’s triggering his reaction? You try to run it back, but it’s too late. Yoongi takes a step back and asks; “do you not want to marry me?”

You’re tongue-tied, unable to answer him. 

He scoffs. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Woah,” you instantly feel offended. “You can’t just bring up marrying me and then call me annoying for needing time to process what you just asked me!”

“Why do you need time to answer it? It’s yes or no. Do you want to marry me or not?”

You glare at him. “Are you proposing?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t need to answer right now… And honestly? You could tone down the intense attitude. We haven’t seen each other in 3 weeks… Why can’t we just have a nice evening together?”

Yoongi sighs, slightly feeling more flustered. He takes a deep breath and surrenders to the feeling of hurt. 

“I think I’m gonna crash at Hobi’s tonight.”

“What?” you groan in disbelief. Is he actually serious? “Yoongi, this is your apartment. You won that stupid rock, paper, scissors game and I’m here. I had to switch my shift for tomorrow to be here with you and now what? You’re just going to leave me here?”

… And before Yoongi can think of a proper response to deflate or change the course this moment; he lets his sharp words cut through his lips. “Well, pardon me for not being in the mood to spend the rest of my evening with someone who I thought saw a future with me… Kind of a mood killer, you know? When your girlfriend is practically dating you to break up.” 

“I never said—”

“Drop it, ___. It’s whatever.”

Your face softens and you can’t help but tear up. His anger feels sharp and abrupt. 

“What now? Did I fuck up again?” Yoongi says coldly. 

You shake your head, eyes fluttering the tears away. “No, it’s okay. I know you’re upset.. But it’s Ace, you know? You always call me Ace. I haven’t heard you say my name in a while. It’s like you’re actually mad at me or something..”

Yoongi stays silent. 

You never expected this. 

A whole week passes by and the most that has happened between you and Yoongi since are pathetic “good morning” and “good night” text messages. You two avoid each other and barely replied in the group chats. You’ve picked up extra shifts and Yoongi has been spending most of his time with the guys, with his brother, or alone. Thank god he warned the guys not to reach out to you regarding the argument.. Yoongi knows he was wrong to get so heated up so quickly… But also, he knows deep down his feelings were valid. 

It’s so stupid. 

The way he has been handling this entire thing is so fucking lame. He knows it and you know it. You both are acting like such babies—unwilling to communicate and understand each other. To be fair; you two have never reached the part of an argument where it actually made one another upset. This was the first time and it’s honestly the worst fucking thing you two have gone through. 

It’s sickening. 

It’s painful waiting for his calls and missing his daily updates… Avoiding eye contact and hesitating to hold your hand when you two are around each other. It doesn’t help that you can’t even remember the last time you two kissed and held each other since his arrival home. It has practically been a month since you two have been together together. 

Now it all aches. 

It hurt him to think that you couldn’t see a future with him when he knows his future is you. It ached so much to see the way your face went blank… Why were you unsure? Has he not given you all the reassurance you need? Has he not been doing enough? Was the 3 for 3 not good enough? … Rather, will he ever be good enough?

All these questions flooded his mind from morning to night. He waits for your reply every day and wonders if he should just swallow his pride and be the first to yield. 

This was your first disagreement as a couple and he isn’t too sure how to navigate through it. What is he supposed to do? His past relationships were never as dramatic as this.. Well, truth be told; he didn’t really care about his exes as much as he cares about you. Dramatic or not, the feelings were real and all more of the reason to push forward with begging for forgiveness. 

Begging to be yours. 

Begging to be loved. 

So what now? Does he surprise you with a significant gesture and make a bunch of promises that he knows are half-assed? In a sense, he was still angry. However, Yoongi knows better. His anger can’t be the reason he loses you.. And as we all know; Min Yoongi is a sore loser. 

Forever, Yoongi will refuse to lose you. 

The mere idea of dating you only for you two to break up… Sickening. He would rather crawl to you than walk away. As this realization hits him, he rushes inside his apartment and then into his room. He should go see you. 

Now. 

He has to see you now.

Yoongi doesn’t know where you are. 

At first, he had a few ideas of where you could be. At your apartment, in the library, or at the pool watching Jungkook’s swim practice.. He runs around campus desperate to find you. In all honesty, the speech he had prepared got lost along the way. As he hurriedly searches for you, the only words that ring are: it doesn’t end here. 

We don’t end here.

I love you—

You. 

Yoongi sees you sitting on the same bench you pitched three for three. You’re swinging your legs, watching the morning waves crash against the shore. He soaks in the sight of you looking so at peace. He loves how pretty you are from a far.

And then it hits him: he’s so lucky to love you.

It’s truly a privilege to love you because of everything you are. His anger and all the reasons he had gaslit himself into self-sabotaging your love for him—the extension of your beauty… It was so fucking wrong. Maybe he got too comfortable believing that he had you. Maybe he was too mesmerized with the idea of you two lasting forever that he forgot to even fucking ask it. 

He was wrong. 

He should’ve asked first. 

… But that’s the thing about being in love; you have faith. You believe in everything about the person you love. You believe in the good and that the universe sees you well enough to bless you forever. You believe in all the shooting stars and wishful thinking… You believe in forever when you meet the one that makes forever feel like it’s not enough.. But, you’d take it anyway. 

Drowning in his thoughts, Yoongi stands still and practically zones out. Meanwhile, from the corner of your eye, you see him. You see him standing there with the most devastated and desperate look on his face. Then, his eyes flicker to you. 

Your eyes meet and lock. His are glossy with tears building up. Even from a far, you can tell he has horrible eye bags. Perhaps, he hasn’t been sleeping well at night. Overall, he looks like a mess. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and your favourite white FOG shirt he owns. Even so… He looks restless. 

For his sake, you pretend not to see him. You turn back and watch the sea. Sitting in silence, you take deep breaths as you feel him walking toward you. You’re sure he’s here now but you don’t want to say anything. 

What could you say?

And it’s weird because you’d expect him to clear his throat and speak.. But he doesn’t. No, he stays silent. Yoongi also doesn’t sit down next to you. Instead, he stands a few feet away and watches the waves kiss the shore. 

Never has he ever felt so jealous of the sea.

An hour and a half passed by since Yoongi found you and within this time: he stays silent.

He follows you around, trailing behind you like a fucking loser. His head is bowed down for the most part and he focuses on following your shoes. 

You don’t have any classes today so he finds it a little weird that you’re running around doing random shit. You aren’t buying anything or meeting up with anyone.. It just feels like you’re stalling. In a stupid way; he’s thankful you’re doing so.

He doesn’t say anything though.. Why would he? All the words he had prepared got lost as he followed you around. 

All of this simply angers you. 

The quiet moment shared between you two at the seaside bench was cute but now he’s just being fucking annoying. Is he serious? He blew up a week ago and now he can’t even apologize for leaving you alone that night? For how cold he’s been? For being the worst boyfriend ever? 

Oh my god. 

It pisses you off so much. For a man that’s such a sore loser; he surely isn’t doing much to win you over. 

That’s just it! All men do is lie. 

By now, your feet hurt and you’re too annoyed to keep playing whatever game this is. You pick up your pace and turn toward the direction of your apartment. 

Yoongi follows. 

Your irritated mood begins to cloud your thoughts. You can feel your frustration take over and you just know you can’t do this anymore. The silence, the sad puppy look on his face, and the simple fact that everything between you two just feels so paper thin—no. This is not it. This isn’t want you want. 

You pause and turn to him. 

He lifts his head and blinks at you slowly. Still, he stays silent. He doesn’t even greet you with a smile.. Nothing. What the fuck? What’s the point of any of this?

The fucking audacity of this man. 

“That’s it?”

Yoongi shrugs. 

“Coward,” you hiss. Taking a step forward, he follows your lead. You’re close enough to him to reach out and hit his chest with your fist. You don’t do anything. You stay still, just like him. In your head, you’re crying and he’s holding you. In your head, he’s already pouring his heart out and you’re mending everything back together. In your head; Yoongi is fighting for you. 

“Do you have anything to say?” you ask desperately. “You can’t do this, you know? You can’t ignore me for a week and then just show up and not say anything. You can’t follow me around like you care when you obviously don’t. What the hell, Yoongi? If it’s over, then just say it. Say it so I can go home and wonder why the fuck the universe gave me you just to lose you because I.. I’m falling apart here—I can’t—I don’t know what’s going on and you just spent like two hours not saying a single word to me. If you have nothing to say then fine! It’s over—I don’t fucking know what’s going on anymore. Do you?”

“Not really,” Yoongi reveals. “I love you.. That’s all I know.”

His hands are on your waist, guiding you through your own apartment.

Yoongi’s kisses have never felt so good. His lips are so addicting—you can’t stop kissing him back. As innocent as the kissing goes; you can’t say the same for his hands. Once on your waist, now slipped in between your panties and your skin. 

Your body shivers from his touch.

“Slow down,” you pull away from him; “I’m still mad at you.”

Lies.

“Good,” he snickers deviously, “hate sex sounds really good right now.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I can change that.”

Without warning, Yoongi picks you up and throws you onto your bed. There, you watch him take off his jacket, his shirt, and then just as he’s about to take off his pants; you crawl to him. 

“Can I?”

Yoongi fights for his life to stay calm and cool. He succeeds as he lets out two words: “say please.”

In response, you glare at him. “You want me to say please when you’re about to get head—”

No warning. 

Yoongi tugs his sweatpants down and grabs a handful of your hair. He shoves his thick cock into your pretty mouth. It shuts you up immediately. The moment you feel his velvety skin in your mouth, you moan at the taste of his precum on your mouth. Yoongi throws his head back from the relief and literal pleasure of your warm mouth wrapped around him. In contrast to his initial action, Yoongi thrusts in gently. His tip hits the back of your throat and you gag—tears triggered. You suck him as he moves back and forth. It makes him weak. How are you so fucking pretty while you do the dirtiest thing? He doesn’t know if he hates himself or not… How could he be doing this to you? At the same time, how could he not? 

He’s wanted this for so long. He missed you so fucking much.

“Mhmm,” he moans, “hate me yet?” 

He pulls you away from his dick. You grab it with your hands and jerk him off. Tilting your head, you bat your eyes at him. You shake your head at him, “I love you, Aki.”

Yoongi’s heart collapses. With no time to waste, he bends down and kisses you deeply. “I love you too, Ace.”

Just as you’re about to continue, Yoongi shifts you to lie down. Though a little confused, you follow his lead. “Wait, I wasn’t done sucking your—”

“I need you,” Yoongi confesses so sinfully. There’s truth in his voice. The kind that feels urgent and “I need you more than you need me.. Please, ___.”

You nod, fully understanding what he wants. 

Laying on your back, you spread your legs for him. He assists you and helps you take off your pants. He tosses them aside before running his thumb on the band of your panties. For a moment, his hands roam around you. He runs his thumb against your heat before pushing them aside to see you bare. 

“Just take them off,” you advise him. He rolls his eyes at you. 

“I have a thing for your panties, Ace.. Holy shit, give me a fucking minute.” Yoongi hisses his words and it makes you laugh. “Don’t fucking laugh, you cockslut.”

“I’ll stop laughing when you finally fuck me.”

“Be patient.”

You cross your arms at him.

“Aren’t you the one that said you need me—oh my god!” you gasp, feeling yourself begin to throb at the feeling of Yoongi’s spit running down your folds. He smirks at how fast you shut up. Yoongi then takes off your panties entirely and then spreads your legs in front of him. 

He jerks himself off a few times before hitting his hard cock against your pussy. Your breath hitches when he does so. “Are you wet enough?” he asks with no intention of waiting for your reply. He uses his thumb and index finger to spread your folds and judges for himself. He then spits again and massages it into your wet pussy. “Better?”

You nod, unable to answer. “Don’t finger me,” you beg. “Just fuck me, okay?”

“You don’t want me to finger you? How about I at least eat you out first—”

“You didn’t let me finish giving you a blowjob!”

Yoongi laughs, “I would’ve fucking nutted so hard in your mouth if I had let you suck it for one more second. Come on, Ace! I love eating you out. I want to make you feel good—”

“You’re not being fair,” you whine. “I want to make you feel good too.” 

“You do more than enough—fuck. Wow. Okay. Rude! Don’t be a bitch.”

You took off your top.

Now, he’s distracted by your plump breast. In all honesty, his favourite thing is to watch your boobs bounce when you two fuck. Whether it’s missionary and he’s on top of you; listening to your soft moans and lewd praises or if you were riding him; heavily breathing and concentrating on getting yourself off… He loves it.

He fucking loves it all. 

And so be it. 

Yoongi gives in. You smile in pure happiness as he gulps and settles himself in between your legs. He pushes himself inside and you moan in relief. 

Fucking finally.

It’s been too long. 

Yoongi thrusts in and out, completely melting in how good it feels to fuck you raw. He watches intensely as your breast move up and down from his thrusts. He looks at you and your stupid fuck me eyes that have him weak. All he knows is that he’s yours. His entire existence is because of you—because of moments like these where he is completely and utterly yours. 

As he fucks you, all he can think about is how much he loves you. How this is what home feels like—how good life actually is. It’s you. Everything good in his life is connected to you. It completely tears him apart. 

The more emotional he gets as he processes his feelings, the harder he fucks you. Soon, you’re moaning like never before. He fucks you so good that the bed practically shakes and your entire world begins to spin. He sits up more and grabs one of your breasts to help himself stabilize. As he continues to fuck you, all you can do is whine his name. 

When you reach your climax, you cream all over his cock. He doesn’t stop there though. No, he keeps on going. He keeps on going until he can’t take it anymore and his body collapses and falls on top of yours. There, you wrap your arms and legs around him. Sloppily, he finishes inside you. 

“My universe,” he whimpers, “you’re my universe.”

It’s a dewy rainy morning. 

Your bedroom window is open and the cloudy sky only makes your empty room feel gloomier. 

You woke up naked and alone. After the third round—because you’d be a complete idiot to think that Yoongi would call it a night after one round—you had fallen asleep next to the love of your life. 

Where is he now?

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt to wake up alone. Was all of that… Just break up sex? It couldn’t be! In between rounds, you and Yoongi found it in yourselves to make jokes and basically sink into your old vibes… No way did he just leave you. 

You gather your sheets and prepare to get up. Just as you’re about to, Yoongi comes out of the washroom. His hair is a little damp and he’s only wearing his sweatpants. 

Oh, what a sight. 

You squint at him and rub your eyes. “I thought you left.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he laughs, throwing his shirt at you. It lands on top of your head. Taking it, you put it on drop your sheets. 

“Can you pass me my panties please?”

Yoongi leans against your bathroom doorframe and shakes his head. “Nah.”

“Don’t be a dick—”

“Round four?”

You laugh. “You haven’t even said sorry yet and you think you can sneak in a forth round?”

Yoongi shrugs at you nonchalantly. “I snuck in three rounds last night… What’s another three? Three for three.” He mocks you. 

You stick your tongue out at him. 

Silence falls between you two as the sound of gradual raindrops hit your window. You turn your head and watch the rain begin to fall. 

“Didn’t know it was going to rain… Isn’t it the middle of summer? Kinda strange, don’t you think—”

“I’m sorry.” 

Yoongi folds. 

You turn back to him and see he’s on his knees before you. His head, just like yesterday, hangs low. 

“I overreacted. I felt like I was losing you. I was so stubborn and defensive that I ended up fighting for my pride rather than us… ___,” he pauses and lifts his head. “I’ve never been in love like this before. I never knew how much my feelings could consume me and how much I want us to work out. I was trying to fight for us. I know my words aren’t much; but I hope asking is enough.. I’ll be better. I’ll be so good to you from now on, I swear… The jealousy and insecurities I have… I’m so messed up sometimes—I know… But I’m trying to be good enough to stay in your orbit.”

“Yoongi—“

“I was trying to pitch forever with you and I didn’t even give you a fair chance to accept or decline—”

“I would’ve said yes,” you interrupt him. “If you had asked properly; the answer is yes. Of course, I’d marry you… In due time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… I’d have to introduce you to my preschoolers first but I’m sure you’ll win them over super fast—”

“Be serious.”

“I am!” you laugh, patting the spot next to you for him to join. He gets up and sits beside you. “I think we were just caught up in the moment. We were separated for a hot minute—I feel like it was just… Miscommunication? We can work on it. We’ll just have to be more patient with one another and maybe not ignore each other for a week?” 

Yoongi sighs and nods. “I still feel really shitty about everything.”

“Good,” you tease him as you cup his cheeks with the palm of your hands. He kisses them before resting in your embrace. “Make it up to me someday.”

“... Did you do it?”

“No.”

He stares at the ring box he purchased with his brother during his trip to the States. The engagement ring you had not-so-secretly pinned on your Pinterst board was only available in the States.. Of course, because the universe was on his side; the trip and the ring’s time and location lined up. 

“I thought you were going to propose to her when you got back? If that stupid fight didn’t happen, we would’ve been having a different conversation right now. Did you guys even make up?” Yoongi’s brothers voice echoes in the call. “You dragged me to that fucking store and had me pick out details for like twenty rings!”

Yoongi sighs as he closes the ring box and shoves it inside his desk. Truth be told.. He wasn’t planning to propose to you yet. He just wanted the ring ready for when the time comes. 

“Someday,” Yoongi promises. “I’ll make it up to her someday in our forever.”

[jolapeno]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LATE NIGHT TEXTS

god, where do i even begin? if you follow me, you know I'm emotional about 99.9% of the time anyway, but today is another one for me. so, I'm likely going to ramble and be teary all day, but forgive me.

lots of you will know what an emotional journey it was for me writing this series. before it, i had dabbled in romance, but not to this extent, not for years anyway. a mix of bad health, a difficult time and some other personal things.

but, when i messaged @guyfieriii (yes, she deserves the tag and the credit for telling me to do this and meet aish haha) and said "I've got this insane idea to do a text fic with javi," she was the one who held my hand and urged me to write it.

what was supposed to be a handful of chapters, became a series.

and crossword and javi wormed their way into my heart, as they eventually did so many of you. i still cannot wrap my head around how beloved this pair are. how happy they make so many of you. and how, for lots, it's a thing you read over, and over, again.

without late night texts, i wouldn't have believed in myself to write many of the things that have followed. and that is down to you. you built me up from being knocked down, gave me the strength to be true to me and write the things that make me happy. and there's no price or thank you i can ever put on that.

so thank you.

thank you to the first-time readers and the repeat readers, the ones who followed each weeks and stuck behind and the ones who are just discovering it now. thanks to the friends i made along the way and to those who are new but have become so integral to my life.

and even if he has no idea about my tumblr, thank you to my husband who doesn't question when i tell him i need to go write. when on tuesday's I'm flapping because I've noticed a spelling mistake, and for gifting me my words in a book form.

he always told me i'd write a book.

and i think for him, on tuesday, it was as emotional for him as it was for me. his voice going "you did it" still makes me well up even now.

now, before i sob more into my keyboard, I'm going to go enjoy a slice of cake and go hold this baby in book form*. and if you ever wonder if you should celebrate things like anniversaries or get cake for big things, here's your reminder to DO IT.

it isn't easy what we do. but god do i think it's worth it.

lots of love, jo

*if you don't know what i'm talking about, please go see my husband's surprise here [honestly, still emotional]

i've been so fortunate that so many have made me lovely things, and they deserve another spotlight:

moodboard - made by anon

moodboard - made by @ghostaholics

post-epilogue pretty - made by @scenaaario

moodboard - made by @agentmarcuspike

collage/wallpaper - made by @joelsgreenflannel

gifted moodboard - made by @missredherring

[theloveinc]

FICS FOR GAZA: theloveinc's sponsor a WIP!

joining (i hope) @ficsforgaza's amazing project for those looking for a way to aid vetted fundraisers for palestine (i will also accept donations to vetted resources for sudan or congo). thank you for giving this post a look!

INSTRUCTIONS: please donate to a vetted fundraiser and send me an ask or DM with a screenshot of your proof of donation (please private your personal information outside of the necessary) and the WIP you'd like your contribution to sponsor!

example: hello! i'm interested in sponsoring your toji x reader wip!here is my proof of donation for (chosen fundraiser), thank you! (please include/attach a photo of proof which includes the date)

RATE: $2 per approx. 100 words!

NOTE: all donation screenshots provided to me will be sent to @ficsforgaza for fund tracking purposes and to ensure that donation screenshots are not being reused.

WIPS - updated aug. 13, 2024 - i am happy to discuss anything specific you'd like to see included!

[JJK] toji x reader - on raising a single father’s kids and maybe sleeping with the guy, too? (a continuation of this concept!) (NSFW)

current wc: 1.2k of approx 2.5k words

donated: 0/1.3k words

progress: 0/1.3k words

TAGS: single father!toji, stepmom-ish!reader, megumi and tsumiki are his/your babies, birthday party type event for baby gumi... toji thanks you for setting things up by blowing your back out.

[GACHIAKUTA] enjin x reader - we don’t go to bed angry here (NSFW)

current wc: 400 of approx. 2k words

donated: 0/1.5k words

progress: 0/1.5k words

TAGS: generic make-up fingering yay!

[BNHA] barbarian!bakugo x pregnant!reader - a lonely bachelor’s stray wife (concept here!)

choose your prompt:

prologue: he finds you

settling down: (epic fail)

after birth: baby is finally here!

running away: you're leaving (or so you think).

current wc: 400 of approx. 5-6k words (1.5k each prompt)

donated: 0/5-6k words

progress: (prologue: 400/1.5k)

TAGS: DARK/SERIOUS THEMES, strangers to lovers-ish, violence, mentions of prior sexual assault (not by kat), mentions of death, you don't want to be there, you don't even want your baby, barb!katsuki is paying his long overdue karma by trying to make you his family, you're confused, he's f*cking confused LOL???

[WIND BREAKER] multiple x abused!reader - (concept here!)

choose your prompt:

prologue: panic attack at the ori, two timing with bofurin

jo togame: chores at the ori, bleaching his… bright orange jacket?!

sugishita: play nurse, do hair

endo/chika: they surprise themselves by not even being mad

(want someone who isn't listed? just ask and we can discuss a prompt!)

current wc: 250 of approx. 8k words (2k each prompt)

donated: 0/8k words

progress: (prologue: 250/2k)

TAGS: DARK/SERIOUS CONTENT, hurt/comfort, talk of violence/injuries, domestic abuse, you're escaping your marriage, trying to make your own by work for both shishitoren and bofurin without the other knowing, not that they'd care but you don't know that, youre a mess and were told a lot of lies, essentially you're just hanging out trying not to let the trauma get you around all these violent boys lol!, even if they just want to protect u :(

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Week Two: Masterlist

Week Two is in the books! You all did so great, and I appreciate your participation so much! This week, we covered 7 prompts and there were 62 total entries: 59 Fics Written, 2 Pieces of Art & 1 Other Works submitted.

Don't forget there is also an AO3 Collection if you'd like to use it!

Color-Coded Ratings Key: General, Teen, Mature, Explicit.

Day Seven: Celebrate Good Times, C'mon

Fic Submissions:

it's a celebration by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: M | WC: 922 | CW: alcohol | Tags: bisexual gareth, friendly teasing, birthday party, famous corroded coffin

JULY 7: celebrate the good times by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 994 | CW: Wayne Munson, Corroded Coffin, Susan Mayfield, Fem!Reader!Mayfield

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 7 - Celebrate Good Times, C'mon by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 930 | Tags: Friendship fluffiness, some angst, hurt/comfort, it’s supposed to be a celebration but I’m a sad little asshole so here we are, FOI References, Ronnie Ecker, I don't know...are they in character? Probably not and I don't care.

Tonight Isn't The Night by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Older Steddie, Man Plans and God Laughs, Grand Romantic Gesture

Day 7: Celebrate Good Times, C'mon! by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 535 | CW: feeling sick (no vomiting/nausea), drinking | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Jeff, Grant, album release party

Wedding Blitzed by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: G | WC: 726 | CW: alcohol consumption | Pairing: minor hellcheer | Tags: It's Jeff's wedding and the guys are wasted.

Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 379 | CW: None

Day 7: Celebrate the Good Times by @lilmissdoomandgloomfics | Rating: T | WC: 775 | CW: None | Tags: it’s someone’s birthday and the whole crew drops everything to make it special

Day Eight: Band Politics Fic Submissions:

we share that really by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 905 | CW: none | Tags: famous corroded coffin, reunion tour, future fic, steddie dads, everyone has a family and is happy

Spoilin' for a Fight by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 912 | CW: language, lot's of language! | POV: None | Pairing: None | Tags: Transcript, band fight, arguments, petty bullshit, our babies are divas now!

JULY 8: band politics by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Angst, dishonesty, strong language, allusions to oral sex, Gareth’s big mouth that unintentionally outs Eddie… and Steve | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth Emerson, Steve Harrington, Steddie, ex-flame!fem!Reader, gossip columnist

There Will Be No Tenderness by @rip-quizilla| Rating: T | WC: 985 | Tags: Eddie Munson X Henderson!Reader, backup singer!Reader, female!Reader, enemies to lovers, bratty reader, arguing counts as foreplay, strong language

Luck of the Draw by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Jeff | Pairing: None | Tags: Making Decisions, Fussing and Fighting, Like Overgrown Children

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 8 - Band Politics by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 991 | Tags: Swearing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Eddie's an asshole but hurt people hurt people so...

Landslide by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Referenced drug and alcohol abuse, chronic pain, language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: None | Tags: Angst, future fic, older Corroded Coffin, fighting, arguments, unreliable narrator

Day 8: Band Politics by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 614 | CW: conflict, mild political discourse | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Jeff, Grant, Robin Buckley, angst, arguments

All Riled Up by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 726 | CW: Language | Tags: Tensions arise when one band member wants a specific band as Corroded Coffin’s opening act because of a shallow reason

Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 308 | CW: sometime in the 90s, some playful arguing

Day Nine: The Hideout Fic Submissions:

selling at the hideout by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 780 | CW: eddie sells drugs | Tags: corroded coffin friendship

JULY 9: the hideout by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Hearing loss, Gareth Emerson’s lack of boundaries, poorly fitting earplugs | Tags: Steve Harrington, Gareth Emerson, Jeff, The Party

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 9 - The Hideout by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 739 | Tags: Time skip (sometime in the 90s), nostalgia, very little dialogue, the Hideout is a character on its own fight me.

Just Have to Feel It by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: None | Tags: Getting Started, First Gig at The Hideout

Day 9: The Hideout by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 715 | CW: hurt/some comfort, canon compliant, drinking, grief, mention of Eddie's death | Tags: Wayne Munson, Eddie Munson, Jeff, Grant, Gareth, The Hideout

Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 411 | Pairing: None (maybe steddie and ronance crumbs if you really squint)

The Sixth Drunk by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 998 | CW: Language, asshole date (not Eddie) | Pairing: Eddie x Reader | Tags: One of the five regular drunks brings a date, and Eddie doesn't like how he treats her.

One Day It Will All Fade by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: language | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, the people of Hawkins are mean, Eddie's going through it but Steve's got him, pre-steddie

July 6th: I heard it in a love song by @lilmissdoomandgloomfics | Rating: T | WC: 986 | CW: None | Pairing: Eddie x Reader (no specific gender or description mentioned) | Tags: Theres a dive bar just outside of Hawkins with a ‘Help Wanted’ sign out front

The Hideout by @pastafairyy | Rating: T | WC: 690 | CW: some curse words in my writing, mentions of underage drinking | Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Day Ten: Pride Fic Submissions:

i'm coming out by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 880 | CW: none | Tags: coming out, bisexual king gareth, side steddie

JULY 10: pride by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: M | WC: 999 | CW: Some self-doubt, maybe, but overall this is pretty fluffy. Teeny bit of angst with a happy ending and a smooch between bros | Tags: Grant, Jeff, Eddie, Gareth

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 10 - Pride by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 898 | Tags: Older!Eddie, Rockstar!Eddie, Asexual!Eddie/Demi!Eddie, Discussion of Sexuality, self-discovery, mention of relationships (Steddie and other), mentions of sex (non-graphic?), it vibes more than describes

Heartbreaker (Eddie Does Drag for Charity) by @rip-quizilla| Rating: T | WC: 994 | Tags: supportive band mates, gay Jeff, drag queen Eddie Munson, brief Rockie reference

Let's Hear it For the Boy by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Famous Older Corroded Coffin, Pride Parade

Day 10: Pride by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 940 | Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader | CW: coming out, part of the Trapped Under Ice universe but can stand alone | Tags: Eddie Munson, Reader (Ms. Sweetheart), Harris Munson, Hendrix Munson, Gareth, Jeff, Grant, Will Byers, pride parade

My Daddy-O by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: G | WC: 998 | CW: Language | Pairing: None | Tags: Corroded Coffin plays a gig at a fundraiser in Hawkins and Eddie understands what it's like to really make it.

Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 411 | Pairing: Steddie mention

Art Submissions:

Furry Versions of Stranger Things Characters Go to Pride by @kassifieddocuments2 | furry ST au

Day Eleven: Jeff Fic Submissions:

jeff by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 782 | CW: none | Tags: jeff backstory, friendship

JULY 11: jeff by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 768 | CW: Strong language, high parental expectations | Tags: Jeff, Grant, Corroded Coffin

Pretty Goddamn Metal by @thisapplepielife | Rating: M | WC: 1000 | CW: Piercings/Needles, Language | POV: Jeff | Pairing: None | Tags: Jeff & Goodie: Best Friends, Goodie's At Home Piercing Palace, No, No, No, Yes?, Don't Try This At Home Kids, Eddie Munson is a Bit of Freak, In Case Anyone's Forgotten

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 11 - Jeff by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 987 | Tags: Nervous!Jeff, Friendship, Banter

Day 11: Jeff by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 620 | Pairing: None | CW: older Corroded Coffin, takes place in 2024, all of the guys are idiots | Tags: Jeff, Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, TikTok, modern!Corroded Coffin

Baby Bandmates by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: G | WC: 592 | CW: Language | Pairing: None | Tags: Jeff makes a new friend on the playground

Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 370 | Pairing: None

Art Submissions:

Corroded Coffin Fest Day: 11 “Jeff” by @luciferssworld | Since when did Miss Perfect Nancy Wheeler become friends with a band nerd?

Other Submissions:

Jeff McKay: Fluff Alphabet @hawkinsmafia | Other Type: Character Alphabet | Rating: G | CW: None | Pairing: Jeff McKay x Reader (no assumed gender)

Day Twelve: Ow! Fic Submissions:

ow by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 926 | CW: injury, hospitals | Pairing: steddie | Tags: established relationship, steddie, famous corroded coffin

JULY 12: ow! by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: M | WC: 822 | CW: ER visit, mild depiction of injury, set in early 2000s – Eddie and Jeff are in their late 30s | Tags: Eddie Munson, Jeff, Corroded Coffin

Love Me Mercilessly by @rip-quizilla| Rating: E | WC: 1000 | Tags: Eddie Munson X Henderson!Reader, Female!Reader, Backup singer!Reader, fingering, P in V sex, degradation kink, bratty reader, enemies to lovers

Zipper by @thisapplepielife | Rating: M | WC: 1000 | CW: Aftermath of a Sex Injury | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Minor Steddie | Tags: Gareth's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, And Eddie Tries To Make It Better, While Goodie Tries To Make It Worse

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 12 - Ow! by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 987 | Tags: Food, Gareth is a glutton (for punishment), poop talk, vomiting, food poisoning

There Goes My Hero by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 999 | CW: language, canon typical violence, fat shaming, mention of blood, injuries, mention of past bullying | POV: Matt | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, violence, fighting

Day 12: Ow! by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 620 | Pairing: None | CW: sunburn, the guys are idiots | Tags: Eddie Munson, Jeff, Grant, Gareth, Robin Buckley, California, tour

Hard Head by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 999 | CW: descriptions of sex | Pairing: Eddie x Reader | Tags: Eddie explains how he injured his wrist, much to your embarrassment

Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 470 |  Pairing: Steddie, CW: light mentions of blood

Day Thirteen: Sex, Drugs & Rock n Roll Fic Submissions:

three's not a crowd by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: E | WC: 995 | CW: gareth and eddie fucking steve | Tags: steddie established relationship, dom/sub, dom eddie, sub steve, face fucking, anal sex, off-screen negotiations, mentioned daddy kink

JULY 13: sex, drugs, and rock n' roll by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: M | WC: 994 | CW: prescription drug abuse, technically speaking. what really happens is Eddie Munson is a menace and never backs down from a dare. (but he still takes something he's definitely not supposed to, and has to live with the consequences)

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 13 - Sex, Drugs, & Rock n Roll by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 991 | Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie x Pornstar!Reader | Tags: minor discussion of the rockstar/pornstar life (of which I have no experience), mention of smut but nothing graphic, strangers to...somethings, AU within an AU, satire, metafiction, angst, fluff, friendship

Living the Dream by @thisapplepielife | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Explicit Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Established Long-Term Steddie, Famous Musician Eddie, Regular Guy Steve, Fucking After a Gig, Anal Sex

Day 13: Sex, Drugs, & Rock n Roll by @munson-blurbs | Rating: M | WC: 677 | Pairing: None | CW:drug use (marijuana), mentions of sex, moaning, general debauchery with the guys | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, Wayne Munson, competition

You Know, This Used To Be Fun by @dreamwatch | Rating: M | WC: 1000 | CW: drug abuse, alcohol abuse, mention of rehab, mentioned overdose | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Angst, hurt/no comfort (sorry!), a whistle stop tour of the Sunset Strip through the eyes of someone who has never been there, stream of consciousness, run on sentences, Eddie's head is a whirlwind.

Wanna Bet? by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language, talk of sex | Pairing: (All in relationships that are talked about) Eddie x Reader, Jeff x Barb | Tags: The guys make a bet to see who can go the longest without sex

[anxious-witch]

Happy birthday @xianvar! I hope you will have an amazing day and I wish you many more JO concerts and fic inspirations ❤️

I know this isn't very original, but I offer you an aesthetic for your fic ne bomo šteli ur do zore because it's probably my favorite of yours(for the time being, anyway). And it also matches your late night fic ideas, so I thought it was fitting 😂. Anyway, happy birthday once again, and I hope it's a good one!

[annathesillyfriend]

A few days late, but it's here! Just a tiny little list of stories that made me feel thing this month. I wish you all a wonderful December 💙

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

Also, please, mind the writers’ warnings!

🌉JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN🌉

there's a honey by @bussyslayer333

↳ one shot, penny's niece!reader, first fic i read this month and what a wonderful start it was!

love that's a real long shot by @callsignvalley

↳ one shot, 18+, pilot!reader, fwb, angst, top tier story 🙌

birthday blues by @dilfsouls

↳ one shot, jake forgets her birthday, she tortures him but she's obssesed with him at the same time (which is very relatable)

first impressions by @imjess-themess

↳ one shot, 18+, mitchell!reader, there is a special place in my heart for all the "4 times... and one time..." fics

less misery, more company by @seresinhangmanjake

↳ one shot,  “everyone loves when a hot guy suffers" - yes, yes we do 😊

forever winter by @hufflepuffprincesse

↳ one shot, beautiful piece of work 💙

birds away by @wombtotombx

↳ series, pilot!reader. best friends to lovers, high quality content 👏

🌉BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW🌉

red flags, green flags by @roosterforme

↳ one shot, this was so fun and so so good!!

🌉ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD🌉

he didn't have to be by @imjess-themess

↳ one shot, single mom!reader, this is so sweet i love it so much 🥺

return to me by @lt-bradshawaw

↳ one shot, wife!reader, wonderful fic!!

all i want for christmas (is you) by @bussyslayer333

↳ one shot, 18+, all i want for christmas is one robery floyd

bobby burns by @sebsxphia

↳ one shot, i just want bob to take me home to his ma and make me a part of their family, is it too much too ask???

🌉MICKEY 'FANBOY' GARCIA🌉

don't drop my baby by @callsign-squints

↳ one shot, the squad meeting baby garicia and i'm hjfkdhgjfhdkgd

as blue as your taste (i taste the same) by @rea-gar-targaryen

↳ one shot, 18+, if the summary doesn't make you want to drop everything you're doing and go read it asap, then i don't know what is wrong with you

🌉STEVE HARRINGTON🌉

bruised and bloody by @stvharrngton

↳ one shot, friends to lovers, pining idiots that make me go AHHHHHH

wine night by @pouringmyheartouttoastranger

↳ one shot, 18+, the final line of this fic is 'comfy, and happy, and in love' and that's exaclty how i feel after reading it

hot for teacher by @handful0fteeth

↳ one shot, 18+, this is some good shit™ right there 🥵

this fic by @sunshinehollandd

↳ one shot, dad!steve, can you hear my scream??? 😭 this is the most adorable thing ever

tell me again by @appocalipse

↳ one shot, friends to lovers but make it angst, we love to see them suffer 🤗

somewhere only we know by @stevebabey

↳ one shot, this was wonderful and made my heart grow 10 times bigger

this fic by @luveline

↳ one shot, oh to have steve harrington carry your photo around in his wallet :')

you and i by @chervbs

↳ one shot, look! it's friends to lovers again! and they're still idiots :)

keep my hand in yours by @harringtown

↳ one shot, i want to get a voucher for playing with steve's hair for christmas this year, please and thank you

i will always be right there by @familyvideostevie

↳ one shot, if someone told me 'you will always be my first choice', i'd be literally dead at the spot

heat of the moment by @appocalipse

↳ one shot, old friends to lovers, steve saying “you can move all the way to another planet and I still wouldn’t be able to forget how I feel about you.” leaves 4 dead, 21 injured

the upside of love by @osterfield-holland-andcompany

↳ one shot, 18+, this is a want but also a need

cute aggression by @retrobutterflies

↳ one shot, cute things ahead!

this fic by @forever-rogue

↳ one shot, SO CUTE I CAN'T

🌉EDDIE MUNSON🌉

the rest of the story by @jobean12-blog

↳ one shot, friends to lovers written by the wonderful Jo, of course it's amazing!

necking by @roanniom

↳ one shot, 18+, i think about his neck and jaw and suddenly i can't breath

baby, slow it down and baby, kiss me quick by @upsidedownwithsteve

↳ two shot, 18+, fwb, pure gold, each paragraph is better than the last

an attempt at a one night stand by @whoahoney

↳ series, 18+, single mom!reader, oh wow 🥵 that's my review

i want your video by @thefreak-thebanished

↳ one shot, 18+, modern!au, delicious 🤤🤤

🌉BUCKY BARNES🌉

what i wouldn't do and the lenghts i'd go to by @real-jane

↳ two shot, 18+, detective!bucky who is an idiot in love with his partner and i am an idiot in love with Kate's work <3

poet laureate by @real-jane

↳ series, professor!bucky, we don't deserve all this greatness that Kate's graces us with 🙌

the bet by @wkemeup

↳ one shot, the words can't describe how much i loved this

🌉SAM WILSON🌉

on a leash by @rassvetsky

↳ one shot, friends to lovers, SHSHHSHSHSH I LOVE THIS

🌉PETER PARKER🌉

eyes on me: dressed up by @thegirlintheswivelchair

↳ one shot, that man, i love him so much!!

🌉RHETT ABBOTT🌉

whiskey sour by @h0neyfire

↳ one shot, 18+, i have zero (0) thoughts in my mind right now, my brain is not working 🥴

white picket gences & embroidery by @sebsxphia

↳ one shot, the domestic fluff in this one just makes me want to scream, cry and throw up but like in a good way

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Do you know of any fics which have Katniss and Jo as best friends, this will more than likely be a modern au but there could be canon ones aswell, I just want to see their chaotic friendship where they "hate" each other but are also really defensive with the other. Pls and thankyou

Hello @gingerbread-is-good!

Sorry this took me a while to get to but I've complied a list here and will be adding this to future masterlists topics as I too love this dynamic! Hope these are new to you and happy reading!

A Change of Heart-WinterWednesday (ao3) Summary: Post-Mockingjay One-Shot. "Now, here I am, watching my beautiful husband with Johanna's precious son, and all I can think of is that it should be our child. Peeta should get to experience this joy every single day. And I should be selfless enough to give it to him…"

Acceptable Payment: A Date With Katniss Everdeen-rEckLeSsLy.cOnFIneD (ff) Summary: "That Katniss was currently aware of, she needed to do two things: First, she needed to inform Johanna about everything that was Peeta Mellark. Second, she needed her help to make sure that she was most beautiful version of herself she had ever been for this New Year's Party." [Modern AU. Everlark.]

At the Peak-maddmaddworld (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen moved to Summit County to work with her mentor and study the geology of the Rocky Mountains. She never expected to meet a sweet, shy snowboard instructor who would turn her first winter in Colorado upside down.

Mellark Orchards-mrspeetamellark (ao3) Summary: After breaking up with her long-time fiancé, veterinarian Katniss Everdeen decides to move to a small town in Pennsylvania and start over again. She meets a sexy, blonde farmer at a local orchard and feels instantly drawn to him. She knows, however, that she needs time to heal from her failed engagement before she starts dating again. Will Farmer Peeta help Katniss mend her broken heart? Will the two become romantically involved?

Office Affairs-Pagedancer87 (ao3) Summary: AU-Modern Everlark. Story done for birthday prompt for @everlarkbirthdaydrabbles on Tumblr for the prompt: fluffy coworker everlark

Pure As A Little Lamb-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: In response to an anonymous tumblr ask for a drabble with a promt for: “Katniss rooms with Johanna and while Johanna is looking for something in Katniss' room, she sees the used condom in the trash and calls up the gang (Finnick, Annie, Gale, and Peeta (even though unbeknownst to the rest of them it was Peeta she has been sleeping with) to figure out who Katniss had over the prior night.”

Rebound Girl-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen only goes for only one type of man. It doesn’t matter how tall he is, the color of his hair, or even his personality. What she wants is the man fresh out of a relationship. She likes being that temporary girl the guy uses to lick the wounds of his bruised heart. Too bad Peeta Mellark changes everything for her.

Secret More-than-Friends-JHsgf82 (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta are the "single friends" of their friend group. Everyone keeps trying to fix them up with someone else-what they don't know is that Katniss and Peeta are secretly dating.

The One-burkygirl (ao3) Summary: Peeta is Katniss’s best friend and almost everything in her life revolves around him. When thoughts of Peeta start invading her dreams, Katniss must decide whether just being friends is enough.

Unpleasant Surprises-msdisdain (ao3) Summary: Johanna Mason and Finnick O'Dair (Irish for purposes of this modern AU) conspire to get their best friends, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen, to admit they have feelings for one another. Jo and Finn, however, may not be working with the most current information.

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions feel free to send me an ask!

-E