#hopefully this is the first of many things I put on itch this year

[ladytabletop]

Published my first thing on itch.io!

It’s a post for the Wildsea RPG by Felix Isaacs.

Time is a tool we all have; you simply know how to use it better than others.

The passing of days weighs upon every wildsailor, an inevitable trudge toward whatever end awaits. Oftentimes, survival on the rustling waves relies upon marking time: how many weeks until the next spitborne port, how many days of rations remain, how many hours left in your watch, how many minutes until an ironjaw-led storm is upon you, how many seconds of air in your lungs in a crezzerine breeze.

Winders have turned the fickle hands of time to their favor, slipping through moments and manipulating the speed of an hour. This rare form of arconautics can be a great boon to a crew, but just as easily it can spell their doom. Time is a harsh mistress.

It’s up there for PWYW. I hope you’ll check it out!

[allthenamesithinkofaretaken]

Wally, Darling ♥

That's how you know

Wally Darling x F! Architect! Reader

[This is the best I could think of, I’m sorry T-T.

Wally’s proposal to MC after almost a year of dating. Warning, I switch to the MC and to Wally's POV a lot in this do I hope you don't mind. Plus it's long. ]

He’d been fiddling with the navy blue box for days now, and every time his fingers even grazed against it, it sent a flurry of excitement, nervousness, and fear in his heart that he never knew of until today. Always having to bear with hiding it somewhere she won’t see it because of the emotions that wracked through him at the thought of the proposal alone.

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, hell, he couldn’t even draw or paint without the feeling of dread filling his stomach that no amount of existential dread could ever think of giving him.

It was worrying how this frightened him more than when he first stumbled upon the rift between their reality and the other side, but then again, he’d never have to risk losing the rift if he asks it to marry him, which would be a silly thing to do in the first place. But if he makes the wrong move, if he makes the wrong move, then he’d have to bear with losing one of the most important people in his life.

He clutched the box in his hand, letting out an exhausted sigh at the frustrating thoughts that ran rampant around his head as he presses that box against his unsteady heart, his back pressing against the harsh wood of the tree trunk he was currently sitting against. His sketchpad opened in an empty page he’d been fiddling around with for the past twenty minutes out of nervousness, unable to properly picture out a figure to draw because of the fear that muddled his brain. Usually painting helped him clear his mind, but because he was so stressed, he couldn’t think of anything to paint. It was the most frustrating thing he’s experienced in his life.

“Wally!” Julie’s excited screech makes him jump, the box stumbling out of his tight hold and he’d fumbled to catch it back in his hands, the box not going unnoticed by the blonde.

“You still haven’t asked her?” Her voice was dulled down to a harsh whisper, her hands gripping at the strands of hair on the sides of her face as she looked at her friend in a panic. “It’s been a week!”

Wally tucked the blue box somewhere inside his blue cardigan, pressing a hand against his still heavily beating heart to hopefully try and calm it down.

“I’m trying to find the perfect opportunity,” He replied, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. “It’s just… I don’t think she deserves a simple proposal. I want to make it special… but all the things I think of are too dull, or boring, or not enough…”

He itched to tug at his hair, but seeing that he put so much work into it earlier today with (Y/n) helping him in brushing it into its usual style, he settled on pulling the grass beneath them instead, the nervousness building up into that imperfection frustration he’s always seemed to have. Although he’s never seen it aimed at any other subject other than his paintings and art.

“Wally,” Julie’s voice was reprimanding, slightly upset, but there was a familiar softness tinged at the way she spoke his name that he could tell that it was bordering on pity. “I’m not telling you how to propose, and you should do it how you want to do it, but I’m sure that (Y/n) will love whatever you come up with!”

And yet here he was, still unable to think of a proper way to pop the question. His hands tucked underneath his cardigan to feel for the box that pressed against his chest, wondering if he would ever work up the courage to finally ask.

He had thought about the question so many times, so much so that he basically had it imprinted in his brain. But still, that important question didn’t come alone when it came to plaguing his brain.

The 'will you marry me?' was always being followed by the what ifs that echoed in the back of his brain. 'what if she says no?', 'what if she's not actually ready?', 'what if she leaves and doesn't come back?'. Stupid question, he knew that much. After all, they’ve already talked about this once or twice recently—The topic always being brought up everytime by either one of the neighbors or their families whenever they called, and they’ve both always come to the same conclusion. They are ready. None of them knew just when it was going to happen. Or if it was even going to happen.

And so here he was.

But despite that, no matter how many times he’s thought back to the times they’ve talked, the times where he’s heard her affirmations of the idea, it always brought that sense of doubt, dread, and especially fear in his stomach.

And all those questions, he's realized, were all coming from the same fear. The fear of possibly losing her. Losing the one thing that's kept him grounded all his life would drag him into a deeper void he knows he wouldn't be able to climb out of, bury him in his sorrows and dig its way into his darkest urges. Not that he thinks he has any.

The sound of Julie's sigh brings him back to their reality, and he realizes he's been fiddling with the wedding band in between his fingers, the box long forgotten on the grass. He carefully puts it back in its place, cradling the thing as if it were a small child.

“Well, I can’t force ya to do it now,” she shrugged. “But I think the perfect way to propose to someone is to just do it how you want to do it. No thinking of wanting things to be too perfect, or too special— because I’m sure it already is,” she places her hand on Wally’s shoulder, and he looks up at her, taking her words into consideration.

He searched for the box in the pocket of his cardigan, eyes looking down at the grass as he clutched it in his palm.

In a way, Julie was right.

Seeing the newfound determination set in his eyes, Julie grinned, an idea already forming in her head.

“If you’re thinking of doing it today, I think Sally would love to assist you with her play tonight.”

She was helping Howdy in organizing some of the new wares he has for his store— a 'thank you' for the bags of apples he had given her yesterday that she had made into delicious caramel apples and caramel apple cookies that Wally was more than delighted to eat up, while the rest were given away to the neighborhood because she knows that Wally would get a stomach ache if he ate all those sweets. And he would've, had she not managed to try and pry him away from all the apple flavored sweets she had made that day.

"How time surely does fly, doesn't it?" Howdy brings her out of her train of thought as he comes walking back inside his store with a sack full of pears thrown over his shoulder, carefully setting it down beside one of the stalls as he pats four of his hands together. "I can't believe it's already been a year and a half since you moved here!"

Oh, wow. Has time really moved that fast?

"Even I'm a bit surprised at the news, Howdy." She places a hand on her forehead, brows raised as she goes to count the months for confirmation. And, lo and behold, it has been a year and a half! "Gee, that long huh?"

"It must feel like yesterday when Wally first asked you out, if you’re that surprised!" Howdy teased, grinning from ear to ear as he carefully stacks the pears in a neat pile on one of the boxes outside, and she goes to help him with the rest.

"It does, if I'm being honest," she chuckled. "I still can't believe it. That would mean that it's also been 11 months since our first date!" She brushes her thumb against the surface of the pear, getting lost in thought as she stares at its shiny surface. "Almost a year now, huh."

She wondered…

"You stare at that pear any longer then I might just tell Wally to marry you then and there!" Howdy joked, and it brought a warmth to her cheeks as she goes to swat his hand away that threatened to ruffle her hair. "You two have a knack for staring at fruit."

"I just zoned out," she rolled her eyes playfully at the caterpillar, who snickered as she finally placed the pear where it should be. "But anyways, is there anything left to arrange?" She pushes herself up to her feet, careful as to not put her weight on the box of pears in fear that it would tumble over and ruin her and Howdy's good work.

"Afraid not! That's all I have left for the day." Howdy wipes his hands on a towel, grinning as he eyes the organization they've done for the bodega. "I say, you do have an eye for arrangement! The bodega hasn't looked this organized in years!"

She gave him a playful wink, "Well, it's kind of my job to organize and design, so…" she crossed her arms over her chest. "But honestly, I've never organized a shop before." The laugh that escaped her was light, and Howdy gave her a pat on the back.

"Well you did a great job! The neighborhood is lucky to have you here!." He gave a wink and a gentle nudge, and she couldn't help but feel warm and giddy at the compliment, muttering a small goodbye and a wave to Howdy as he entered the shop once again and she went to leave to find Sally. Hopefully, she could help out with the stage the star was fussing to her about, only to bump into an overly excited Julie who tugged her into her home instead.

"Julie!" She gasped in shock, dizzied by the excitement of the blonde. “What’s going on?”

“I have a new makeup kit!” Julie practically screamed in excitement, and Frank (has he always been there?) shakes his head with a small sigh, grabbing (Y/n) by the shoulders and then nudging her to the sofa. “Oh! And Frank wants to talk to you about a beautiful arch with flowers and vines that’ll surely attract a lot of butterflies!”

“Really?” She arched a brow. The idea didn’t sound too bad, but then… “Where will you put it?”

“Oh that doesn’t matter right now!” Frank waves his hand dismissively, holding out a book in his hands. They were filled with colorful flowers, most of which were unfamiliar to her, but they all looked very pretty and vibrant. “There are plenty of beautiful flowers to put into the arch, but I can’t decide which ones!”

“Firstly, we need to know how big the arch is going to be,” she tilted her head to the side, her hands already itching for a pencil and paper so she could draft the ideas she was already thinking of. There were so many possibilities!

She turned to Frank at the question, awaiting his answer.

“Hm, I suppose something a little over my height. It should also fit about two people in the middle.”

“Oh! Is this a surprise for Eddie?” The grin on her lips were from ear to ear, and the thought made Frank’s cheeks darken while Julie simply snickered at her obliviousness.

“It could be,” Frank scoffed, trying to wave his flustered demeanor away from all the attention she was currently giving it, “Back to the arch.”

She had to struggle to look back at the book that Frank was telling her all about, all while Julie happily put makeup on her, the blonde oftentimes butting in their conversation to give ideas of her own. Which gave both (Y/n)’s brain and neck a break from all the strain at going back and forth with these two.

And after what felt like a whole day of having to design this beautiful garden arch she didn’t even know what Frank was going to use for, Julie finally finished, ending with an excited squeal as she handed over a round mirror for (Y/n) to hold.

(Y/n) fathomed at the face that looked back at her in the mirror, unable to help the grin that tugged at her lips as she stared at the wonderful work Julie had done.

“I look amazing!”

“Of course you do, girl!” Julie grinned, giving her a wink as she pointed at her with finger guns, before remembering something with an excited gasp, eyes basically filling with stars as she grinned. “Oh! I also have the perfect dress for you to wear!”

(Y/n) doesn't even get to protest as Julie drags her up the stairs and into her room, the doorbell echoing just behind them as Julie basically shoves her into her wardrobe.

“Frank can go get the door, for now though…” Julie grins, eyes basically sparkling with both mischief and excitement as she wracks through her own wardrobe. “We have to get you all dolled up for tonight!”

She would’ve laughed at the unintentional joke if she wasn’t so confused as to why Julie was suddenly making her do this.

Apparently, all that makeover was for Sally’s play tonight. And Julie wanted her to look her best for some reason. However, she wasn’t one to turn down a free makeover, and she was sure Wally would love to see her in a new getup than she was normally in. It had been a while since she’d dressed and prepared like this.

Julie pushes her towards the front row seats, a light laugh escaping her lips as the blonde seemed to drag her all the way over there with an unmistakable skip in her steps.

“Come on! Before it starts!”

She didn’t even know why Julie was rushing. It wasn’t like anyone was going to steal any of the seats! There are only 8 residents (not counting her) in Home! And it seemed that most of them were already on their seats— just behind the ones Julie was dragging her to.

Weird.

And where’s Wally? He wasn’t usually one to skip Sally’s plays…

“Oh! It’s starting!” Julie’s playful smack on her arm brings her attention back to the stage, the dimming of the stage lights rendering their surroundings in darkness until a spotlight shines on the usual star of the show. Sally Starlet.

Usually, when Sally does a play, she enters the stage with her costume already worn on her person, this time however, she was wearing her usual clothes, her hands clutching a microphone which she so happily grins upon as she scans the neighborhood, eyes ultimately landing on her.

“Welcome, everyone!” Sally greets, “A lot of you have come here to see the finale of the romantic play I’ve written— and you will! I promise you that!” (Y/n) couldn’t help but snicker at the star’s usual showmanship, eyes following her as the sun seemed to pace from one end of the stage to the other as she spoke, hands moving with every rise of her tone. “But tonight, I want to use this chance to help our dear friend in making this night very special for both of them, as some of you may already know.” The star gave a wink to one of the people in the crowd and (Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh as Julie gave an excited scream. Other than that though, she was also more than intrigued at where this was going.

“And so! I am giving up the stage for the night to our neighborhood’s absolute most! Wally Darling!”

Her breath hitched as her brows raised in surprise, watching as the red curtains unveiled to reveal her darling clutching a different microphone in his hand. She was a few feet away from the stage, but she didn’t need to be within 2 feet of Wally to notice just how nervous he looked as he stood in the middle of the spotlights, watching him tug at the collar of his suit as he clears his throat on the mic.

“Hello…” he starts, and when his eyes meet hers, she gave a small and reassuring smile. She didn’t know why he was up there, or what his plan was, but the smile she gave him seemed more than enough to wipe all the nervousness from his face away as his hunched shoulders slightly squared as he fixed his posture, hearing him let out a breath to let the nervousness out of his body as he continued. “So… I’m not the best when it comes to expressing myself… but, tonight is very special, so I’ll try my absolute best.”

His eyes meet hers once again, and her heart jumped.

Special? Was it their anniversary?

No… it couldn’t be, she had that marked next next week! She was already planning on taking Wally out to a date at a nearby observatorium!

“(Y/n),” the sound of her name echoing through the speakers makes her turn her attention back to Wally. “Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?”

She gave a slow nod.

“You offered to help me fix a hinge I accidentally broke,” He chuckled. “After that, I was sure Home already liked you more than they liked me.”

A cacophony of silent chuckles comes from behind her, and she couldn’t help but join in.

“Then that night, we had a sleepover because it rained, and you couldn’t go home.”

She snickered, looking up at Wally with a brow arched, her hand moving in a rolling motion as if telling him to go on, and he huffed.

“... and also because Home locked you in.”

“And ever since then we’ve been by each other’s side until tonight,” He continued, and she could feel someone nudging her shoulder. When she turned around to see the culprit, she saw Poppy, waving at her and ushering her to go up the stage, her brows rising in surprise as she points at the stage behind her, and the bird nods her head in response.

She turned back to face Wally, who seemed to be looking at her expectantly, and that was enough to get her to stand, slowly walking over to the side and then up the stage where she could properly be by his side, his attention fully turned towards her as he takes her hand into his own and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“(Y/n),” she looked at him expectantly, unable to hide the worry in her eyes as he looks up at her, more nervous than she’d ever seen him be. “We have a lot in common, a lot more than what others know about.”

She knows what he was referring to. What he could see, what she could feel, what the other side of the line could offer them.

“We love art, though we both practice two different kinds of it. We love sitting quietly near the fireplace, eating or sketching, because it’s one of the most calming experiences a person could have. And we love doing a lot of things together.” He paused, scratching the back of his neck as a light pink dusted his cheeks. “And there are a lot more things we could love to do together.”

“And we also have our differences,” He cups her cheek, and she could already feel the tears swelling in her eyes at the way he just lovingly looks up at her, her heart pounding so much against her chest that she could feel it as if it were about to explode. “I love all of you, each and every part, but I’m afraid there’s one difference we have that’s bothered me for quite some time now.”

Her brows creased together, worry evident in her eyes as she looked at him in confusion.

“Your last name,”

He dropped down on one knee, and she could feel the world around her as if it were spinning and her knees threatened to buckle under her.

“But I intend on changing that soon,” He shyly looks away as he holds out the blue box towards him, the golden band shining underneath the spotlight. “If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will!” She would’ve screamed louder than she already did if she could, jumping into Wally’s arms and sending them both tumbling down the stage as she peppers his face with kisses, a harmonious cheer echoing from past the stage as she pulls away from her bo— fiance, pulling him up off the floor as they giggled under their breaths.

Wally takes her hand in his own, giving her knuckles a gentle kiss before slowly sliding the golden ring on her finger, another sob escaping (Y/n) as she just stares at it in disbelief.

“My future Mrs. Darling,” Wally’s confirmation only made the news all the more exciting, her heart jumping in joy at the thought. “I like that a lot.”

“Me too,” Her voice almost cracked as she spoke, a hand coming up to wipe at her cheeks. Wally reached up to hold her head in between his hands, and she leaned into his touch as he smiled.

Could life get any better?

[kittenchancorruptionarc]

[Clink! The man perks up as he hears the door begin to unlock after what felt like hours of deafening silence, at least back at home when things were quiet he could throw on some music and have it defy the loudness of the silence, but here all he could hear was himself. He tried to remain calm as he watched the surprisingly short man enter, his ears and hair just how he saw on stream. His voice filling the silence as he approaches, trying to keep focused on his face but the cigarettes quickly gaining more of his attention he gracious accepts the one placed in his mouth, savouring his first inhale, inhaling more as the smoke emanating from the Fox’s own cigarette blows over his face, clearly someone who has been itching for this relief.]

eh- i wasnt expecting them to bring me here on a silk pillow and a private jet. that shitty old van needs some new suspension by the way, i could feel every single bump on the way in, it was almost worse than when your bigger guy hit me right in the eye! i hope he wasnt two heart broken with the jab i landed on his gut, heard him coughing a little on the ride here.

[He snickers after his rambling and takes another drag from his cigarette, taking a moment in the silence to eye up the Fox, appreciating some of the smaller details even the camera couldn’t pick up, like a faded scar or some of the aging of his skin, textured tastefully from years of existence.]

yknow, i really appreciate this though. i get it and expected it, you cant treat me too well. but i guess my surrender deserved a little something.. hopefully if i can perform as well as some of your regulars maybe this little exchange can repeat.. maybe a burn per cigarette i know your fans just love burns…

[He rolls up one of his sleeves to reveal a small assortment of round burns, some scarred and some fresher than the rest, on the underside of his arm, turning it slightly to be seen by the Fox.]

wouldnt be anything too new to me!

[Another drag of his cigarette leaves his lips, his finally burnt nearly to the butt with a small ember left, he looks down to his arm and swiftly extinguishes what was left of it onto his arm, letting out a soft hiss as it goes out, leaving a raw red divet where it was shoved.]

guess im not feeling too bad, definitely better now after your gift. im pretty eager to get on camera, honestly its going to be different being on the other side of the screen. never thought id actually do it but uh hey were here now arent we? im glad your excited for it! wouldnt be much of a stream without your enthusiasm would it? sounds like youve already began cooking up a little in your head? do i get a heads up on the plans or am i going into the first round blind?

[He looks up at the Fox, watching his tail sway and ears perk as he listens. Trying to keep a relaxed demeanour as the Fox’s aura fills the room.]

[Fox rose an eyebrow at the comment about the van, he wasn’t very knowledgeable in machinery, especially when it came to vehicles, he usually let Kangaroo deal with that. Nonetheless, he nodded his head at the other man’s comment.]

New suspension, eh? I’ll bring that up with Kangaroo later. I don’t do the machine work around here anyways.

[The beastkin grinned when he heard that the other punched one of his men in the gut, it did explain why one of them was nearly coughing up a lung when they returned with him. He loves when his new stars put up a fight. It’s more fun.]

Ooo!~ I see you like put up a fight, eh? That’ll be exciting.

[Fox was about to talk about how he has multiple different methods of giving people burns, some more brutal then others, but seeing the random man he kidnapped casually roll up his sleeve to reveal his cigarettes burn scars and put another one out on himself like was a human ashtray nearly made the older man’s jaw drop. Oh, he got LUCKY. The man’s words started falling on deaf ears as Fox processed what he just witnessed, his legs shifting around a bit to hide…something.]

Oh? Um. Uh…y-yes. I have SEVERAL ideas in mind for you, little pet.

[Fox then smirked sinisterly as he saw he was at the butt of his own cigarette now, he then, without warning, quickly gripped onto the others still exposed arm with his free hand and used the other to press the somewhat still lit butt into his arm, pushing it nice and deep into his flesh so it’ll hurt worse.]

Feel good, darling?~ This is one of the MANY things I’m going to do to you on stream. <3

[kitnita]

jake oettinger pregame — NSH vs DAL — 01.06.24

[When you do have this opportunity, is there anything that you can glean from watching the games and all?] Yeah, it looks so easy from up there, you know? It looks super easy from up top. Uh, obviously, I know it’s not the truth, so it’s, uh, fun getting different perspectives. But like I said, just, I mean, like … as a player and an athlete there’s nothing worse than, you know, being away from your team, and, you know, especially, like, early on I wasn’t with them at all and it’s … missed my friends is the most biggest thing, you know, just seeing the guys every day, that’s why — what makes this game so special is, you know, the guys and the teammates. Um, just the fact that I’m close, um … you know, I’ll never, uh, complain about a bag skate or getting hit in the head or anything like that again, it’s something I'd gladly do right now. So, just, uh, lucky to be getting close here, and hopefully can get back in there soon.  [Is that something about the rehab process that people don't realize, is kind of how isolating it can be?] For sure, yeah, I think, I mean, this is like the third week I’ve been out, I can’t imagine guys that are out for, like, long-term, it’s just … I mean, mentally, like, athletes, we’re wired, like — we want to have somewhere to be every day and we wanna know, like that’s just kind of how we are, and I think that’s something that a lot of people overlook, is like, the mental side of it too, like, obviously you’re physically hurt but, like, mentally — the mental health part of it’s huge, and you know, if I didn’t have such a good support system, or family, and my fiancée and stuff, like … I’d be driving myself crazy. So it’s just, I’m getting close, the guys have been great, um, you know — the staff’s been awesome, and I just, I’m dying to try to help this team win again.

[How do you feel?]   I feel good. Uh, it's getting close and, uh … you know, I’m just itching to get back with this team. 

[What about the All-Star nomination and whatever?]   Yeah, it was pretty cool. I, uh, wasn’t really something I was expecting but, um, obviously, a dream come true and, um, it’s pretty crazy, so, pretty happy about it. 

[Have you talked to Robo about it? Just about what it’s — I can’t imagine what it’s like to be around those people, and, just, the whole experience.]   Yeah, nothing yet, uh — I’ve been pretty, uh, excited, I got a couple former teammates like Brady and Kells that are gonna be there, so it’ll be fun to see those guys and, uh … just gonna try and have fun and, uh, not end up on too many highlight reels. 

[I asked Pete this morning, are you worried at all about the timing of it, coming off the injury? You’ve got a month to get ready for it.]   Yeah, not at all, no, I’ll be ready to go, and, uh. Yeah, I just gotta make sure I, uh, don’t get put in a blender with any shootouts or anything and I think I should be fine. 

[He even said that I think you guys have seven days off in that span, so just being out on the ice might be a good thing for you.]   Yeah, for sure, I think, uh. Yeah, it, uh, obviously makes break a little shorter, but, good reason to, um, you know, put the pads back on, and obviously, uh, something, you know … I think when I was first nominated, just thinking about all the people that have believed in me and, um, you know, the fact that I can I’m an NHL All-Star and, you know, that’s something no one can take away from me, you know, so it's pretty cool. 

[Robo got to go to a beach in early February last year, you’ve gotta go to Toronto. Are you a little disappointed in that breakdown?]   Uh … no. I’m gonna go to a beach for a couple days before, so I'll get my beach in and then, uh, Toronto, obviously, will be like a hockey mecca, and, um … I’m sure the turnout will be amazing, and, uh, yeah, so, if it’s gonna be somewhere cold, Toronto’s a pretty good spot for it. 

[What’s it been like watching Wedgewood and what he’s done the last few weeks?]   Yeah, it’s been awesome, he deserves, you know, a ton of credit for how well, you know, he’s played, and how good we've done, um, since he stepped up and played really well and — you know, that’s the nice thing, like, you know, [if] either of us go down, that, you know, the team believes in both of us and, um, just, that’s such a luxury to have and you know, he works his butt off and deserves, you know, all the credit and, um, it’s just been fun watching him. And you know, I’d like to take some load off his hands soon. 

[Does it affect you at all, when he’s playing that well? I mean, you don’t have to push back to get back into there — I don’t know that you would or wouldn’t or if, you know, that’s a doctors’ question, but it does seem to take a little bit of the pressure off.]   Yeah, I think, I mean, not really, like, for me, maybe more, like, the coaches and stuff? I mean, um — yeah, like, obviously, you know, they feel like, you know, I don’t need to rush back to get into games, obviously Wedge has done a great job and we can win, um, with anyone in net, and he’s just, uh, given us that, you know, luxury of making sure I can come back at a hundred and ten percent. And I’m getting close, and, just, you know, dying to be a part of the team again. 

[findafight]

Re: Billy, yeeaahh, I think there’s exactly one *potential* way Billy could have been persuaded to leave without a fight and that’s if Chrissy was there at the Byers for some reason and she and Steve tricked Billy into thinking he saw her instead of Max. (1/ hopefully 2)

Why is Chrissy there? I don’t know. Maybe this is a ‘Chrissy and Steve are cousins’ au and he called her over in the hopes that her presence would stop the Party from sneaking out to commit arson to save Will’s life. Maybe she actually got caught up in everything last year bc she tagged along with Steve when he went to apologize (probably another cousins au scenario). Maybe she saw Max skateboarding, thought it was cool, and started a conversation. (Part 3 incoming)

(3/3) Cheerleading is pretty hard, so if Max was either already aware of that or found out while talking/hanging out with Chrissy, I think it’s reasonable that Max might admire Chrissy, which could potentially result in Chrissy being asked to the junkyard (especially if Max didn’t buy Lucas’s story, which I don’t think she did).

oooh fascinated by Steve and Chrissy being sporty cousins who are basically siblings tho. Steve who calls Chrissy his "sister but actually my cousin but basically my sister" in his brain because she's maybe 7/8 months younger than him so was in the grade below but they grew up together and almost all the baby pictures have them together in matching outfits :') they saved worms together from the pavement after it rained. Chrissy put them in Steve's hair and he cried. (she did this many times) They sit beside each other at family gatherings and just much sly and cutting mean girl comments about their relatives to make the other laugh. Or make distressed faces at each other from across the table when grandpa Otis is getting drunk and ready to rant.

Chrissy who Steve called during his sad boy clean up his own mess hours and she was like "okay I'll drive you to the byers house? You got knocked around I'll drive please don't get in a wreck auntie Diane would kill me." and she waits in the car for him but then Shit Goes Down and there's lights flashing and Steve runs out, but he stops, and looks back. and then locks eyes with Chrissy, and runs back in. So she follows. And finds out monsters are real right beside her brother-cousin.

yeah okay I'm digging Chrissy and Steve cousins au but it HAS to be coupled with Chrissy lives au I can't do that to them. I can't make Steve try to clear Eddie's name while mourning the only family he's known loved him. (but GOD a Jason/steve confrontation in that au? where jason is like she was your family! and steve is like I know!! That's why you need to believe me that Eddie didn't do this! I want revenge just as much as you! oh god this is so sad no no Chrissy lives in harrington cousin au.)

Anyway but Yeah. I think, like. Billy just wanted to punch someone. I guess because Chrissy is a pretty and popular girl, he would at least hesitate in his itch for a fight. Billy doesn't respect women but he's savvy enough to get in with Tommy, Steve's former bestie, so he knows enough that Chrissy isn't someone he wants to be on the bad side of. So perhaps it would...slow down? the events? idk. I really do think once Billy saw Steve or Lucas he wasn't leaving without punching someone. She could try to convince him it was her in the window, if Steve had gone out first, and that might give the kids time to hide better, but Steve isn't leaving s2 without getting punched by Billy in place of Lucas. It's one of those "locked in the timeline" things for me. Sorry Steve :( at least sometimes you aren't knocked out completely.

this answer is all over the place haha but post s3 pre s4 chrissy seeing Max skateboarding and thinking it's pretty cool and striking up a little mentor-friendship with her is so cute. Two lonely girls</3 Maybe Max teaches her to kickflip and Chrissy Teaches her to cartwheel... holds her ankles up to get the feel for it...and for a little while they don't feel so alone... aww... I love giving Max role models and older girls to look up to. She's got Steve but she deserves some girls looking out for her.

[lovebirdgames]

if we did by chance get a fandisk with additional routes,,, would it follow the same story like beginning of band camp to end, or like after band camp? I have no idea if that sounds stupid or not because I’ve never heard of a fandisk BAHA, also who would be the candidates for an extra route? and what other things would you consider putting in it? feel free to shove this to the back of your ask box or delete/not answer I know the aaron and leon beggars are getting annoying I’m so sorry 😭

It doesn't sound stupid at all, it's a valid question. After being stuck at band camp for almost 8 years, I'm ready to move past it. There's so much material contained in a marching band season that we didn't even touch. As for candidates...well, who did the final route seem like it was setting up for? :)

I would love to do more with Band Camp Boyfriend, and we actually have a lot of wonderful ideas, but the fact of the matter is there are a lot of moving parts to take into account. We commission the art so our artists would need to be available and willing. It's been many years since we first commissioned them in 2017. I'm fairly certain at least one of our artists is no longer available.

Also money is always a thing. It's not especially important to me, all of this was so worth it, but...it do be a thing. We're still in the hole, but hopefully we will make back what we spent as time goes on. And we're not interested in doing another Kickstarter after the last one failed. It's a lot of work to get those together. Also we need to take a look at how many people bought the game and ask ourselves if a sequel is a good investment. I really want to see it happen but I also need to think logically too.

For now we just want to take a break and see how the game does. So...keep telling your friends about it! Post those silly videos or funky memes online to get the word out!! Leave reviews on the game so Itch/Steam acknowledges that it's a gem!!!

Also, you are never annoying for asking for more BCB content. It makes me really happy that you want more! ^^

[klainelynch]

AO3 First Lines Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @singersargentboi !

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

I know I've done this game before, but it has been awhile, so hopefully there won't be too much overlap.

the world weighs on my shoulders (but what am I to do?): ATLA, Iroh and Zuko in the aftermath of the Agni Kai

Iroh lived in seconds. Rose from his seat in one, made his way to the aisle in another, somehow managed to put one foot in front of another as he descended towards the platform. There was no point in wondering what the Fire Lord had meant as he exited the arena. Capturing the Avatar could only happen if his nephew were alive to do so, and the closer Iroh got to the crumpled boy, the less realistic that possibility seemed.

we will pay the price (but we will not count the cost): ATLA, outside POV of Iroh as he watches Lu Ten's final moments

Min pulled herself up to her feet using the nearest boulder as leverage. The Fire Nation soldier could only manage a sitting position. His head was bleeding, and he was clutching one of his arms as if it were broken.

for all things seen, my dear: It's a Wonderful Life, a quiet moment between George and Mary

It’s hours later—a time that neither of them have seen on the clock for years, ever since Pete was born and began the tradition of their children needing all of their attention at any given hour of the day—and George finds himself looking into his wife’s eyes, tracing his fingers through her hair. The braids came undone at some point in the minutes after the families had left their home.

This love: FMAB, poetry from Riza's POV about Roy and the love they've built

isn’t something / I thought I wanted, / and it’s certainly not something / that the world ever / led me to believe / that I could deserve. / No, this love

you wanna show the world (but no one knows your name yet): FMAB, Royai ATLA AU

“Again,” repeated the even voice.

I can’t stand the rain: FMAB, a quiet Royai moment

The thing about rain in Central was that it never knew when to leave. Out East, Riza had thunderstorms: rains that swept in quickly and darkened the sky in a matter of minutes, whose thunder could shake the house down to its bones, whose downpour drenched all who were unlucky enough to be caught unawares. And then, just when you started to wonder if you ought to start damage control in case the basement flooded again—the rain left, done with you and ready to surprise the next county over.

in your hands there's a touch that can heal, and the power to kill: FMAB, introspective Riza on the power she holds over Roy

Your life always looks the same. The players move around, leaving the board entirely when they can’t cut it, but another always takes their place. It doesn’t matter who they are. They never last.

bring wings to the weak and grace to the strong: FMAB, Royai in the hospital after Roy's eyesight is restored

The bandages made his movements awkward, but Roy wouldn’t have stopped running his hands through Riza’s hair for the world.

relief: FMAB, Riza overthinking things

This was a mistake. Riza shouldn’t have invited him up, and she shouldn’t have let him fall asleep in her bed. Not that she regretted the sex itself—no, that had been exactly what she needed. He’d taken care of her, as promised, and she almost smiled as she brushed his dark hair off his forehead.

[podfic] Never knew I could feel like this: FMAB, Royai in the hospital after Roy's eyesight is restored (yes, I've written sooooo many versions of this story, and I wrote/podficced it all in one go)

The cool compress the nurse had left for him lessened the pain, but Roy kept peeling it off. Itching eyes were a fair exchange for this sight.

Tagging @rousse @terracyte @goneadrift @figuringitoutasigoalong @blackinkpen @theaceofdragons @itsmoonpeaches @dairogo @scienceoftheidiot @musing-and-music if y'all want!

[not-so-secret-account]

RWBY Discussion #2 — Ship Edition

those shower thoughts be hitting

now, i’ve come back here to talk about something i’ve been itching to for a while now, and have just gotten it all into words (bc tbh it’s all just been incoherent babbling inside this head of mine)

alright to whoever has watched RWBY at least to the end of volume 3, y’all will know exactly what i’m talking about.

for those who don’t, spoiler warning for volume 3.

now onto the topic of the day: Arkos.

Okay I cannot even begin how much I love this pairing, but not in the way I want them to end up together (bc frankly, that ship has been thanos snapped out if reali-💥💥💥). But I love this because of how incomplete and tragic this pairing really is when taking a deeper dive into it.

Let’s start with the gal herself, Pyrrha Nikos. Champion, and the pride of Mistral, known for her talent in combat and is basically a celebrity. People look up to her, the “Invincible Girl”, as she’s called. There are many, many people who would probably bend over backwards to be aquatinted with her, and she hates it.

Despite all the attention, all the fame, she is lonely. Even with the people clamoring to become buddy-buddy with her, it’s all for the sake of raising their own status or other advantages with being associated with the champion. Because of this, she has no real friends; Pyrrha is lonely, and stands alone on that pedestal people have put her on for a long time. So, she wants a fresh start, to go somewhere that won’t treat her as some sort of goddess whenever she steps into the public eye.

Cue Pyrrha arriving to the kingdom of Vale, where she goes to enroll at Beacon Academy. A place that, hopefully, won’t have as many people swarming around her (at the very least). Of course, she’s gotten some people trying to get into her good graces out of ulterior motives (sorry Weiss), but it hasn’t been a bad experience so far. And hey, she’s got a team now, and thankfully, with people who haven’t been bombarding her about her status.

And then, there’s Jaune. Jaune Arc — “short, sweet, rolls off the tongue (his words, not mine)”. Not a..particularly known student. In fact, he’s just a nobody in the Academy, and with next to zero knowledge about fighting or combat in general. No prior training, with only the desire to become a hero. So, it’s a wonder that he even made through initiation, much less become a team leader. And one of his teammates is none other than Pyrrha Nikos. Granted, he only survived because everyone else kicked ass and saved his, but okay — the gang’s all here, and so, the school year begins.

Circling back on the first part, Pyrrha has never had any real connections with others outside of family (presumably), so of course she’s had trouble finding friends, and let alone a deeper connection with anyone else. She can’t be genuine with anyone else because of that untouchable status of hers..until she met her team. And specifically, Jaune.

See, Jaune, when finding out of her status, didn’t..really think too much on it. Of course, she’s held to a degree of respect, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t a person, either. Jaune, unlike most people, treated her like an equal, a *friend.* And that was the first thing that had gotten her to form a good bond with him. And with the time that bond formed, vulnerabilities started to show from either side, with each confiding in one another of secrets (though that was mainly on Jaune’s part). And when taking into account that this was the first guy to have shown interest in her and not the status she carried, it wasn’t a surprise that she fell in love with him.

And here’s the fun part: I don’t believe this love to have been reciprocated.

While we have seen Jaune mourn her death more openly than anyone else in the series, it doesn’t mean he really loved her back romantically. Thinking back, Pyrrha had been the one person who’s gone out of her way to help him become a hero, the one thing he strived for. To him, she was a great mentor — an inspiration. And the person who’s pushed him in the right direction back at Beacon. Pyrrha was an amazing friend and person, who gave all her time and effort to train her own team leader, and for a while, Jaune believed all that had gone to waste into someone who didn’t deserve it. He didn’t think he deserved a friend like Pyrrha, and he sure as hell didn’t after her death; Jaune blamed himself for not being able to save Pyrrha in her time of need, compared to when she was present for his. And it wasn’t until the Fall of Beacon when he realized the degree of care she really had for him. And y’know what? He feels guilty. Guilty that he never knew of how deep her care went, and that he took her kindness for granted, because he could only take a fraction of it.

And that’s why I love Arkos. On one hand, it’s an unrequited love, and on the other, the lost of a friend who gave too much, and got little in return.

More RWBY-related rants coming soon to a page near you, stay tuned 👍

[emeto-secret-agent]

Sicktember Day 12

Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness

Fandom: -

Characters: Florian and Celia

Illness: Fever

Warning: -

Sickfic with minor plot and Florian simping

-

’Your Highness, the guests are arriving in half an hour.’

‘Yes, thank you, I will immediately get ready.’

‘Your Highness, these papers are still waiting for your approval.’

‘I’ll do them tomorrow.’

‘I’m sorry Your Highness, but it’s the Earl of Snowdon. He is insisting on an immediate answer…’

‘Oh, that little… I mean, alright then, I’ll look at them after the betrothal and send a letter to the earl first thing tomorrow.’

‘Thank you, Your Highness.’

‘Your Highness!’

Sigh…

‘Yes?’

‘You have to come to change otherwise you’ll be late for the guest's arrival.’

‘Yes, yes a minute.’

‘Now Your Highness.’

‘I said a minute.’

The room went silent. The crown prince haven’t raised his voice but even his tone made everyone take a step back and gave a little room for him. And God knows he needed that. His head was hurting since he woke up and the airless, hot room made it even worse. There were so many people around him, everyone talking and yelling and the ceremony haven’t even started yet but Florian already wanted to go back to sleep. The last week’s stress must have caught up to him because he felt weaker and more irritated with everything than it’d be reasonable. But in the meantime, everything had to be perfect since it was his little sister’s betrothal. He needed to make it perfect.

‘Everyone go and do your job with responsibility, we can’t have any loose threads by the time our guests and my sister, the princess arrive. I will negotiate everything after the ceremony, I promise, but now don’t have much time left. You may only bother me with the most crucial problems, regarding the betrothal. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

‘Good. Now I am going back to my chamber and get ready for the ceremony. You may leave.’

A row of heads bowed in front of him and disappeared, only leaving him and his escort to go back to his part of the castle. He only had little time left so he was rushing back to his room, but even this little journey took a lot of energy out of him. Twenty-three years and he was already too tired for this. How father manages to deal with all this for so many years, he’ll never understand.

The maids were already waiting for him in his room, every jewel and expensive fabric laid out and waiting for the prince. Florian was lucky that all of his servants were experienced, fast-working people and so he was ready in under twenty minutes, having still enough time to go to the throne room and take his place on the side of his father. He felt so fortunate that the king hasn’t entrusted him with the task of giving a speech to the other kingdom’s prince and his sister’s future husband. Arranging everything else was stressful enough as it is.

‘Alright then, let’s head out and get ready to greet our guests.’

Florian was really trying to pour some strength into himself and putting on his most elegant look. Everything has to be perfect for his sister. He has to be perfect for his sister. A strange feeling of sadness rushed through his chest and made his throat itch at the thought of the princess marrying out to this foreign prince. He was always the closest to his sister and imagining her leave just like that… But it was no matter, they both had duties to fulfill. His to be the next king and hers to marry this man and hopefully become a queen.

The prince was getting lost in his thoughts as he walked out the door, the heavy cape and ornamental sword pulling his body down, closer to the ground with every step, but he still managed to catch Celia’s eyes. His maid looked somehow concerned but they had no chance to speak a few words and Florian suddenly started to regret not having a little private time with her. He should’ve asked her for some pain relievers, his head started to hurt really bad…

Florian and his escort made it to the throne room just in time to get onto their place before the king walked in too. His Majesty was still as refined and dignified as always, his mere presence bringing respect to the room. Oh, Florian how wished to be a king like him someday. His father smiled at the prince as he took his seat on the throne and Florian returned the gesture before focusing his attention on the incoming guest who were led by his soon-to-be brother-in-law. Just let everything go smoothly and perfectly…

And everything did went greatly. Even Florian was surprised a little by this fact, but seeing the happy smile on his sister’s face, made every stressful moment worth it. The ceremony went without a problem, both of the kings and the newly engaged youngsters were satisfied with the arrangements, and the after-ball brought even more joy to everyone. The royal kitchen really acquitted itself well, if Florian had a little bit bigger appetite, he was sure he’d have his life’s best feast. It really was a shame he wasn’t hungry, only so very tired. And he still had to answer that spawn of hell earl…

‘My brother, are you feeling quite alright?’

‘Oh?’ Florian hasn’t even noticed how lost he got in his thoughts again. He should focus more, especially when it was his turn to dance with his sister. He should enjoy every minute he could before they can never do this again. If only his head wouldn’t hurt this much and he wouldn’t feel like a butchered chicken in the oven. ‘Yes, of course. But what makes you ask that?’

‘You looked a little pale all day and well… tired.’

‘Well thank you, my dear sister, I was only trying not to take the attention off your beauty.’

His sister laughed together with Florian, but some of the concerns still haven’t disappeared from her eyes. No, she shouldn’t worry, she should be happy today.

‘Very funny brother. But are you quite sure? You know, you can tell me.’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’ he wasn’t actually that sure now. ‘I just had a lot of things to do and I’m a bit tired. But that’s all. And you needn’t worry about me, you should enjoy your night. All of the kingdom is happy for you and celebrating you, just like me.’

‘Thank you… But... promise me this won’t be the end of it?’

Suddenly Florian was fighting back tears. He knew what his little sister meant and he felt everything crash right back at him, every worrying thought overflowing his already worn out nerves.

‘This won’t be it. You’re my little sister, no matter what happens to us, okay? Never forget this.’

‘You promise it? You promise me, Florian?’

‘I do. I do promise it. I’ll be always your big brother and you can always come to me. I’ll never let anything hurt you, no matter what happens.’

‘Thank you... I’ll miss you so much.’

‘You’re not going anywhere yet silly.’ Florian softly laughed to ease the look of sorrow in the eyes of his sister. ‘You’re right here for now and you’re not even married yet. We’ll have this conversion when you’re a queen, alright? But for now, you’re just a little princess~’

‘I’m not even little! I’m a grown princess and I’ll be a great queen, you’ll see it.’

‘Then don’t disappoint me.’ chuckled the prince as the music stopped and he could already see her fiancé coming to ask her down for the next dance. ‘Now go, and I don’t want to see you sad! Be happy, this is your night.’

He let the prince take his sister’s hand with a smile and quietly watched them start the new dance. She’s going to be in good hands…

But was he actually that pale that his sister noticed? That didn’t sound too good. Actually, he didn’t feel too good either… Shit, he couldn’t be coming down with something right now, did he? He wanted to say that he was just exhausted, nothing a good sleep wouldn’t fix but the former hot flashes disappeared and only left bone crushing cold behind from which even his cape couldn’t protect him. This was a way too familiar sign of a raising fever. And that would explain why his head was aching since morning and why he felt like he was going to pass out the next second.

By all means, Florian wasn’t even that surprised he was running a fever. It was probably the most stressful he has been in the past years and it must have taken a roll on his health too. Could it be that Celia noticed too the signs of a starting fever and that is why she was looking at him like that? The prince really wished the maid could be here and ease the uncomfortable feeling in his head with just the touch of her palm like she always did. But it was an impossible request so Florian just stayed still on the side of the room and tried his best to make small talk with everyone who approached him and not pass out on the cold tiles of the ballroom.

He was so lucky that not after that his father decided to retire for the night and let the celebrating army of guests enjoy themselves alone. And this was the perfect reason for the prince too to go back to his room and rest down before the world became a weird mush of funny, vibrating colors. His legs were so hard to get to work, but he managed to leave the room with his father so he couldn’t be considered impolite for leaving earlier the event than he actually should have. He wished he could just stay there, have fun, drink, dance, and have interesting chats with interesting people, but his mind was occupied with the constant pain in his body and the longing after his quiet room and Celia.

…and Celia?

‘Already tired of the celebration? I guess you’re getting old too.’

And he wasn’t listening again. He needs to get himself together. Even if for that ten minutes until he reaches his chamber. So Florian just laughed at his father’s teasing and tried to brush it off, even though he knew the older man saw right through him.

‘I guess something like that, I’m not handling my wine quite as well as I did a few years ago.’

Florian hasn’t even drank almost anything tonight, but that wasn’t important right now.

‘Is that so? Then it’s better if you rest down for now.’

‘Yes, I shall do that.’

‘And well, since you had quite the amount, feel free to take it easy tomorrow. I won’t be expecting you at the meetings.’

It was like a huge rock fell off the prince’s chest and he couldn’t be more thankful for his father’s clear vision. That earl wasn’t getting his papers until the next week that is for sure.

‘Thank you, father.’

‘Yes, yes. Now go, rest well.’

‘Good night Your Majesty.’

And with a smile, the king disappeared in his wing of the castle to retire for the night and Florian did the same. Only if with a little bit more difficulty, as he was trying to make out the steps right in front of his feet, but his blurry vision wasn’t helpful. He managed to stay composed so far, he could avoid passing out in front of his guards now. He can do it.

A row of maids was waiting for him at his door, ready to help him undress, refresh before bed and make everything for him, but the prince was only searching for the familiar brown eyes. Florian let out a relieved sigh as he noticed her concerned face, as she was looking at him, watching his every step. Celia understood him without even words.

‘You come with me, the others may leave for today.’

Every maid and his guards bow at his command before leaving the prince and Celia alone. There were already whispers, but nothing the maid couldn’t handle tomorrow. As the doors closed, Florian let out a grunt, and Celia was already at his side, strongly holding his arm to help him stay upright.

‘I feel like I’m going to pass out. I’m so dizzy…’

‘Come with me, Your Highness.’

The maid guided the prince to his bed, having to hold half of his weight as Florian was now only stumbling on his feet, but Celia was already familiar with this. The moment Florian was in a laying position on his bed, Celia began to peel off the layers of thick clothing. Well, these were certainly no good for the prince’s fever, nor for his strength. It was almost like a heavy armor and even Celia struggled a little with them.

‘What hurts?’

‘Mostly my head…’ Florian’s eyes were still closed since it helped with the dizziness a little but a small smile appeared on his lips as Celia laid her fingers on his forehead. Ah yes, this was what he was waiting for…

‘You’re running a pretty high fever… Did you drink Your Highness?’

‘Only a few sips, almost nothing…’

‘Alright then, please stay here and rest, I’m going to bring you some medicine. I’ll be back in a second.’

‘Right…’

Celia’s voice was still echoing in his ears as Florian laid back in his pillows.

Yes, they’re both in good hands now…

[bitch-butter]

Hey, I hope you're doing well, if you're taking requests from that list, could I ask for 131 and webgott? Be well!

thank you for sending this in! this prompt had A Lot going on in my head that for obvious reasons took me to a place of vamp, so I hope you don't mind this takes place in ye olde down comes the night (aka vampires) universe.

there are some...Details in here that pertain to something I'm working on rn, bc it's been very much on the dome, but hopefully I don't give too much away! I hope you find something to like in this, be well ~

“I’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you.”

For some reason he thought that the moment he was turned his life would somehow cease to be what it was. 

Not anything spectacular, nothing like opening his eyes and finding the sky going different colors, being able to spot dust mites floating in the air, hearing emotions type of different. Just, different. Even if only intangibly he assumed that becoming a vampire was going to be nonstop something, whether it be euphoria, anxiety, hunger, anything. 

And yet Joe still sat staring at a fucking laptop and refreshing the page over and over again like it was going to show his Vampire Eyes, as Lestat would say, something different. 

He had the urge to rub over his eyelids, ease away fatigue, but he didn’t actually feel it. Joe hadn’t been tired since last December, and it’s late November now. Outside he recognized it was cold, but he couldn't feel the discomfort of the chill, finding his predominant reactions are ones of pure sympathy, even managing to fake a convincing yawn back to a woman in CVS last week. 

Really the main thing he feels these days is boredom. Or, it was before September.

He sighed, and caught himself again. Breathing. What even is that anymore? 

In the heavy, early days of his change, when the venom was still fresh under the thin covering of his skin and the burn shot over every inch of his body, he would try to gasp in pain and would choke on air that didn’t come to him, unable to let himself believe he didn’t need it. Back then he could barely speak, barely move, could only think of hunger, hunger, hunger, and David. 

Always. Always. 

It had been like nothing he’d ever felt before, the relief that surged through his dying veins as he put his mouth to David’s neck and was permitted, lovingly, to feed. That first rush of intoxication, burning like whiskey straight down his throat, tasting fresh, earthy, was enough that he half expected to never regain his senses, to forever be an animal David kept under the porch and would throw scraps of affection at.

But he had recovered. Straightened, stepped forward on two legs into this new thing that together they could call a life, but in many ways was not living at all. With David he had started to learn the ways to walk on earth as something other than himself, began to look for opportunity, for pockets of darkness for them to easily slip in and out of, and so far it had made him strong. The cravings weren’t nearly as bad as David had told him he’d endured, given tastes of his maker’s still, sweet blood and swallowing it down like a child's medicine to keep the itching along the back of his throat away, stop the terrible flares of anger that came when he couldn’t seem to get enough.

David was patient with him. Joe would have been convinced he’d done this before with the gentleness and skill he had in managing Joe’s sudden shifts, his hunger, his needs that at some times were nonexistent and legion in others. 

It had been almost a year. It feels like 90.

“More coffee?” the waitress asked, voice pitched like she anticipated breaking through his fugue, but he had smelled her coming. 

She’s fine but she’s sweet, like maraschino cherries, and it made him wrinkle his nose in distaste. He’s getting mature enough already to know what he likes and she isn’t it, even if she had been attentive checking in on the coffee that he hasn’t had a goddamn sip of yet. Regular food still fucks with his stomach, he expected he had another couple of decades before he can fake eat something to complete satisfaction. 

He managed a sideways look towards her, eyes barely making it to hers around the edges of the black hood he had pulled up, looking like a reject of some tragic Boston basement band. “I’m still working on it, thanks,” he brushed off, voice quiet, pitched low enough that she might not have a reaction to it. 

From the way he can hear her breath pick up, just a tiny bit, just enough to grimace at, he failed. That’s the other challenge of it, the one that he had secretly laughed at when David had told him about it because only an asshole with a face like his could complain about the way people threw themselves at him. Poor David, poor handsome David who had to beat humans of literally all flavors off of himself just to get some damn peace and quiet, how hard it must be.

That’s what he had thought. Now he knows better.

The Look is no joke, not even in the slightest and not even for Joe, who knows that even as a pitch-perfect vampire there are elements of his face that he would have needed to start laying the groundwork to change when he was 13 to look halfway presentable. He knows what he looks like, but since the change people have fallen at his feet like he was a ye olde Backstreet Boy, drawn in by the seeming forcefield of pheromones that surrounded him. 

So now having a minute alone, something he’s fairly fucking used to, is a relatively rare thing.

The waitress’ neck muscles tightened, gathering to speak, and he turned his face away quickly to look out the front window just beside him. 

“Thank you,” he repeated, the words warping with the sudden rush of saliva through his mouth, pushing a bit through the words to send a rush of: go, go, go.  

So compelled, she turned on her heel and left without a word, pace stuttering as she crossed back behind the counter like she couldn’t quite believe what she had done, whether she ought to question it at all.

Stifling a groan, he tugged the hood down lower over his face, hand curling against his forehead as he slouched inward, eyes moving back to stare towards his screen. Mechanically, he reached up to click harshly at the Reload button, watching the momentary spin, before feeling his spirit sink gently as the page before him remained unchanged.

No news. No updates. Nothing but the same old headline he’d been staring at for two months, a bleak, black line above the picture of Babe and Gene at their engagement party, smiling and so beautifully, terribly unknowing. 

If he scrolled down a bit he knows he’d see isolated photos of George Luz, maybe even the shape of Joe Toye’s name in the footprints of text all the way down the page. 

But no more. Not since September. 

He’d say it was inconceivable, but in the past years he’s seen too much to rule out even the most fantastic

Dully, he swiveled his gaze to look back out to the empty parking lot, only his own car looking back at him, the sky like a heavy roof of shadows above. It was close to 2a.m. now, pretty much the only time that he could have time to himself in the 24 hour Denny’s he posted at to leech off the wifi, and he felt a wriggle of all too familiar anxiety go through him at even the most distant thought of the sun rising. The sun meant aches, meant feeling sick, tired in a way vampires shouldn’t be tired, and at least for tonight it meant going back home and having to face David. 

Beyond the parking lot were the woods, the modest sweep of forest that bordered the town like a crescent moon, blocking them in between the wilderness and the rolling crash of the water, and his eyes got lost in their dark tangle, in their winds and bends. He imagined walking into them, getting lost, having nobody to come looking for him, and he lowered his head down to rest on the table, feeling altogether too human.

He does feel it, if even just a little. It’s hard to hurt a vampire, but since September he’s gotten better and better at finding the places where he could still hurt himself. Hurt other people.

Turns out just because he gets better in some senses doesn’t mean he’s better in all. He’s still just as apt to be horrible as he ever was, lash out, feel bad about lashing out, feel trapped by the weight of guilt and how it mingles together with raw, primordial sadness. Just because he’s a vampire doesn’t mean he’s completely divorced himself from the same type of bullshit he pulled as an idiot running around in 3 day old pants that smell like gin and cigarettes, he’s self-aware enough to admit that. 

Maybe it isn’t the vampirism he had hoped would really change him, maybe it was the Being in a Stable Relationship he had thought might do the trick.

But no, still an asshole.

He’d feel disappointed in himself if he was capable of feeling anything but a sort of paralyzing sadness.

He wishes he could call Babe. The thought shot a dart of ice cold pain through his heart, and he bent into it with masochistic relish chased eagerly by helplessness, like dogs after a rabbit. Babe had probably had the same thought a hundred times this last year and Joe hadn’t been there, so he supposed he gets what he deserves in this instance. If only it didn’t hurt so much, if only Joe had had the stones to own up to the hazy unreality that he walked in now, where the world is somehow exactly as it had been and yet forever changed, forever darkened by love like a bruise over an eye.

Eye, eye, eye. I, I, I.   

It’s why they had fought. Why he had taken this anger, this hurt, and made it into something solid and unyielding that he could hit David with. Because Joe blamed himself for all of it, for leaving, for changing, for believing that life and the people he had known inside of it would wait until he was strong, ready, and not go on and on until, suddenly, it was gone.

But that hadn’t been what he said. What he’d said to David’s face was: it’s your fault, you made me this way, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have left.  

He’d known it wasn’t true even as he said it, but the way the guilt flew from his body and seemed to slam into David’s was a momentary balm, the kind of relief that sleep used to bring him. The feeling was fleeting, no more than a moment, and an entirely new kind of guilt had replaced it as David’s face, his pale, beautiful face, had frozen, shuttered, and was gone. Joe hadn’t even been able to make his mouth work to speak, to take it back, and realized as fast as anything that he hadn’t changed at all. Here he is, still making the same mistakes. 

Apologies don’t come easy to him, they clog up his mouth like stones until he can’t make the sound of them, can’t spit them out or swallow them down and only learn to hold their weight. He makes them, but rarely means them, or let himself feel them, allows them to be little more than platitudes. 

But he finds he wants to apologize now. He wants it so badly that his silent, cold chest is throbbing with it. 

To Babe, to Gene, but most especially to David.

David had been afforded so few choices in the improbable time he’d been walking the earth, had been offered so little consolation for the things that had happened to him, what he’d had to endure and what he’d had to do just to stay on the earth long enough for Joe to find him again. And he’d let Joe choose for himself, to leave and to change, the two choices that David had never gotten. Joe had known, deep in his bones, threaded all the way through his heart, that had he chosen to be human forever, to let himself slip and fall down the long path towards death, David would have let him do it. He was full of the kind of grace that Joe never was, maybe never could be.

Joe had known it all, and had said the words anyway. 

It’s worse than an insult. It’s blaming David for something he never had control over in the first place. 

The Joe that David had fallen in love with would never have done something like that. He had chosen to die rather than live without him. 

What a waste of whatever goodness he might have had then, and then, and now. He owed David more. He owed himself more. 

It’s a paralyzing breed of shame, an isolating kind. He knows he has to apologize, he wants to apologize, and hanging over the top of it like a heavy crown was the fear that it wouldn’t be accepted, that he’d fall victim to the same curse that David had and walk the earth alone for a century just hoping to find love again. Wouldn’t he deserve it? 

God, he wishes he could drink that coffee right now. Wishes he could have something other than this horrible crush of pain inside himself. 

Unless he wanted to go back behind the counter and eat. But he doesn’t feel all that inclined to cherries right now, and it's getting to be too late to find anything prime on a weeknight. 

There should be vampire Lexapro, it’s too much work to have to purposefully hunt someone down just to get a taste for a couple of hours before it burns off. Maybe he and David should finally watch True Blood, maybe that’s something they do in fake Louisiana. If he’s forgiven, that is. 

He should be hungry. He should want and want and want, never stop wanting, until maybe one day he shrivels up like a dead flower and turns into dust and makes the world look just a tiny bit dirtier because he lived in it. 

David would be right not to forgive him, but Joe knows that he will. He waited 100 years for Joe, he gave him a choice with no privisos, and Joe knows that he’ll forgive this but it doesn’t make the guilt any better, in fact it makes it all worse. How can Joe ever repay him? How can he let him know that the 100 years of waiting, of thinking the love they’d shared in another life was all gone, was worth it? So far he’s done a shit fucking job of it. 

Joe never thought he’d be married, but here he is. It’s deeper than a marriage, the bond they had made, the vow he took, powerful enough that once given a single taste it had stopped his heart forever.  

And he might still be human enough to want to honor something like that, even in the moments when he’s weak. He had said it many times, to many people, holding them back as they tried to leave, making promises, fighting for something intangible: but I can change. 

He’d changed. But there can always be more, right? This is where it starts.

A chilling, chilling thought; that wide swath of eternity that stretched out ahead of him was only the beginning, and all over the horizon were pieces of lightning, rolls of thunder, mistakes he’s yet to make, apologies he’ll drop at David’s feet. It’s like being a child all over again, except this time he knows just how black the world can be. 

Oh, but how bright as well. How soft, and warm, and ready to envelop him in its arms and carry him to different places, happiness bursting from every pore like light, like he was made of something better, incredible and impervious. He had almost forgotten it when he met David, had to pry the doors of himself open to let the sweetness of it in, and ever since he’s felt it every day. Not from sunrise to sunset, sometimes for no more than a minute, but each day of their union David makes him happier than he’d ever dreamed he could be. 

He feels himself roused from his newborn’s sleep, the non-sleeping trance he’ll go into as he adjusts to nonstop wakefulness, by David’s hands each day. The way the old self had loved to be touched, the way that David remembered to touch him, the way that Joe had learned he had wanted to be touched all his life. Fingers rubbing up along his hairline, down the line of his forehead, against his temples, soothing the ghosts of Joe’s stress, his worries, with nothing but the warmth of his hand. 

He’s only whole at all because David put him back together. 

Love is a many splendored thing…

Over the speaker the song begins, low as a drawl through his ears, and he slumped back against his seat to look out once more towards the parking lot, to the lonely mound of his car in the center of the tableau. 

But his car isn’t so alone anymore.

In the high, white lights of the lot he spots the silhouette of a figure perched on the hood of his car, back to the window, face tilted out towards the woody area just beyond beneath the brim of a dark blue, almost black, hood.

Joe sighed, and smiled as he caught himself doing it, feeling relieved and filled with dread. He made himself move methodically, trying not to look as hurried as he felt, as eager to run out to him, as he packed up his laptop, stowed it away, tossed a $20 down next to his cup of cold coffee. The waitress hung back behind the counter, scrolling away on her phone and not looking up as Joe passed, and he moved away from her scent gratefully, the bell above the door tinkling above his head as he moved out to the cold beauty of the night air. It’s cold enough that he should have had to burrow deeper in his coat, but he moved through it like a knife through butter, unflinching, eyes locked on the lone figure atop his car. 

At his approach David didn’t turn to face him, but he didn’t need to. Joe knew he was heard, expected, and he sat beside him easily, keeping a scant few inches between their bodies like the words he had spat out formed an invisible wall. His profile is set, perfect, his eyes anchored towards the wooded horizon blankly, pupils flat in the way Joe knows now means he’s eaten, lips like a poisonous bud resting placidly, the threat of its bloom sending a shiver through Joe that had nothing to do with temperature.

“David…” he ventured, soft, a little creep across the silence. “Please say something.”

David barely reacted to his voice, eyes falling down to the ground like dead leaves. “I don’t know what to say to you, Joe.”

“Tell me to go fuck myself,” Joe said, low and strained with the reminder of his pain. “Let fly on me, I can take it.”

“I’m not going to do that,” he replied gently, eyes still held just beyond Joe’s reach. 

Joe felt a psychosomatic tightness in his throat, unable to tell anymore where real pain began and his remembered responses ended, trying to think of when he won’t even remember how to fake the feeling of a flush, the urge to hide away. “I’m so sorry, David.”

He nodded under the protection of his hood. “I know it.”

“I forgive you,” David said simply, still sounding a million miles away from where they sat beside each other. 

He ached to reach out to him, but held himself back. “I didn’t mean it, I…” he fumbled, closing his eyes like he could look for sense just behind his eyelids. “I wanted you to feel like shit because I feel like fucking shit, I didn’t mean any of it.”  

“You don’t need to forgive me right now,” Joe shook his head, brow furrowed and jaw clenched. “I just need you to tell me you know I didn’t mean it.”

David finally looked to him, the line of his mouth thick with tension. “You did mean it.”

His hands twitched beside him, reaching out just to pull back before they could latch onto David’s face. “No, I didn’t. I’m a bastard, I wanted to hurt you and I obviously did, but I never meant it, David. Never.”

“But it’s true,” David insisted, solid and unyielding, his eyes cold in the night.

Joe let himself break the tiniest bit, unable to stop from taking David’s hand in his own, the two of them cold to the touch, small traces of warmth that may or may not be there between their palms. “You think for one second I would do something I didn’t want to do?” he challenged, David’s hand pliant between the twin pressures of his own. “I chose this, not you, none of this shit is your fault.”

“I should have been better,” David said quietly, eyes sliding from Joe’s eyes, down his face, down to the ground. “Should have asked you to reconsider -”

“I wouldn’t have listened,” Joe said, low and sure, David’s eye falling in reverse, back to Joe’s with that terrible, palpable fragility Joe sometimes forgets he has inside him at all. “No matter what you’d have done, I would have chosen you every time.”

David looked at him reservedly, the shadow of doubt in his eyes, but he let Joe hold his hand anyway. 

He’s too good. Joe loves him too much. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words willing and eager to be free from his body, offering themselves out to David like golden barbs, little sharp things that Joe keeps hidden away inside himself. But if anyone deserves them - has ever deserved them, it’s David. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry about -” David began, hushed, mouth bunched at the corners like he wasn’t sure he should say it at all. “About your friends.”

It’s another arrow of fire through his chest, and he smothers its flames by bringing David’s hand to his mouth, pressing a worshipful kiss to the soft, cool skin at the back of his hand. “It's not your fault I wasn’t there,” he said, the truth singing his tongue, no less painful in its accuracy, in the stinging thought that what happened to them - whatever it had been - would have happened whether Joe had been there or not. 

“And it’s not your fault, either,” David countered, earnest as he ever was. 

Joe doesn’t know if he believes that. He knows it’s the truth, but he can’t believe in it.

But he’ll try. If it means there’s a chance to be forgiven he’ll try, and as he does it he’ll keep hope alive in his silent heart as best he can. The same as he’s sure Babe did for him. 

Joe gave in, weak and pitiful and undeserving of the way David didn’t flinch away from him as he bends, slumps against him until he can wrap his arms around him fully, hold him closer than he ever held anyone else in that long-ago life.  

“You made me better than I was,” he rasped, face pressed in against the thick fabric of the other man’s hood, heartened by the way David went loose against him, his hands sliding over the plane of Joe’s back. “You’re the only reason I ever wanted to be better. I left because I love you,” he rambled, a hushed, hurried string of words that were no less stinging in their truths. “Tell me you know that.”

David held his silence long enough that Joe began to feel the individual parts of himself begin to separate, split like the joints of a marionette. 

“I came back to you,” Joe said, the words coming almost before he thought them. “I think I loved you before I even knew you.”

Tipping into the embrace, David turned his face into Joe’s presence, nose pushing at the brim of his hood until it fell back and he kissed against Joe’s hair, tender and kind. “I wanted so much better for you,” he said, soft enough that its edges crack around his voice, his hands tight across Joe’s shoulders. “But I was selfish.”

Joe scoffed, touched and devastated. “You fucker,” he chastised, pulling back to look David in the face, curling his hand around the line of his neck, holding him close and refusing to let his eyes get away once more. “There isn’t anything better than you. Not for me.”

Smile weighed down at the corners by a peculiar sadness, David brought his hand to Joe's face, smoothing his thumb along his cheekbone and giving a slow shake of his head. “I forget how young you are,” he said, something like wonder in his voice. “You have a thousand lifetimes to realize just how wrong you are about me.”

“Bullshit,” Joe shot back, pulling him in to press a kiss against the pale peak of his cheekbone, sighing a worthless sigh at the feel of David’s eyelashes against his skin. “I’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you.”

David smiled again, soft and yet luminescent, like candlelight against Joe’s face, and he let Joe come to him readily, taking his face and steadying him into a kiss that made the brittle pieces of his soul tremble inside with want, with love. His mouth moved beneath Joe’s own unquestioningly, allowing itself to be kissed, kissed, his hands against Joe’s back pressing into the muscles there, easing an ache that was no longer felt. With gentle insistence he coaxed David’s mouth open, slipping his tongue into the other man’s mouth to taste the hours he’d missed: something heavy, rich, perfect the way expensive meat used to melt in his mouth and become elemental, coagulated power.

The way it still was, in the night. In the blood.

Above them the faded, white tones of the lamps high above the parking lot suddenly flared, becoming fistfuls of neon stars that hummed loudly with the rush of their affection before bursting into explosions of glass, sparks lighting their death down to the ground. Behind them he could see the illumination of the restaurant's front window as it abruptly screamed into overload, lights bright, bright, bright, and then dying in the space of a moment, the music slumping, garbling away and leaving them in their blessed, familiar dark. 

David huffed a laugh against his mouth, and Joe’s eyes were powerful enough in the dark to see the pleased turn of his lips as he kissed his cheek, his jaw. “You need to be more careful.”

“That was you, too,” Joe brushed off, pushing a hand through the other man’s hair and moving the hood back and off to give his face to the moonlight. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” David nodded, his own hand moving to curl against Joe’s neck, eyes gleaming in the shadows with understanding. 

Joe opened his mouth, began to apologize again, but thought better of it and simply kissed him once more, sloppy and needful the way he so often felt. Releasing a long sound into the grasp of the kiss, David pulled him in closer, the two of them sliding slightly against the hood of the car in the growing chill, and Joe let himself be moved, allowing the pace to be set. It’s just another moment where by all accounts he should look down at his existence and be baffled by how the strange is now routine, how though he can no longer create his own warmth he finds it in the arms of another. How he can allow himself to be forgiven as easily as he can ask for it.

He’ll change for the better. Hopefully he changes and never stops changing.

For now he’ll settle for being grateful to be given the chance at all.

Grateful enough to test just the slightest bit. 

Planting his feet against the hood of the car, Joe tightened his grip over David’s shoulders, pulling out of the kiss long enough to speak. “Hold on,” he said, low and teasing, smiling at the way David first frowned and then rolled his eyes. “And don’t help me.”

“It’s hard not to,” David sighed, but kept a loose grip over Joe’s body as he concentrated, eyes fluttering, before he tentatively reeled him into another, softer kiss. Slowly he began to feel it thrumming under his skin, flowing through his veins like silver cords that eased him up, up, easily enough that he barely paid attention as David deepened the kiss, letting Joe’s insistence guide them up until together they were barely braced on their feet. Making a pleased sound, Joe smiled and tipped his face up to the sky as his feet left the hood of the car, David’s body pressed against his own as they floated, dangling up high, and then higher in the dark with no light to illuminate the way save for the touch of the moon. It’s his favorite of all the things his new body can do, this nothing power, good only for moments like these when he needs the earth itself to fall away under his feet.

It still had a reaction on him, exertions like speed, strength. In his mouth he felt his fangs prick up, and he pulled in David’s entirety eagerly, desperate for scent, for taste, and finding them both held surely in his arms. As they kissed he let himself scrape against David’s lips with the tip of one of the fangs, the sweet, deep scent of vampire blood filling his senses, and he put his mouth to it urgently.

“You’re incredible,” David said on the edge of a laugh, delighted by thoughts Joe only wished he could hear.

“I had a good teacher.”

“You’ll be invincible in a year,” he went on, tipping back into the kiss messily, letting the air swirl around them as they floated above the darkened parking lot of a Denny’s. “In five, I can’t begin to imagine.”

Humming disinterestedly, Joe pressed a red kiss against David’s cheek, pulling in the smell of cypress, amber, comfort and indulgence in one. “You won’t have to imagine, you’ll be there with me.”

David accepted the kiss, turning his face to the promise and setting his own against the inky strands of Joe’s hair. “I will be.”

There must be goodness left inside of him, even now, to have earned something like this. He’ll try not to waste any more of it.

[livingasaghost]

haven't written one of these in a long time but it feels like i should

i'm trying not to be too optimistic because we have a long road ahead of us but i opened up my manuscript last week for the first time in like....a year? it's been quietly sitting on my hard drive while i've worked through a million different crises the last few years and even though i haven't done more than reread it, i felt the Itch. a lot of that comes down to tour starting and feeling inspired by taylor once again (thank god for that woman) but it's something.

i found another indie author on instagram today that kind of gave me that feeling i felt when i found olivie blake (hi olive <3) a few years ago — that sometimes it's okay to just be an indie author and traditional publishing doesn't have to be the be all end all. and like yeah, i'd love to get picked up by traditional publishing and a cool agent, but so much of my fear about editing is That. that i'm not good enough, that i AM good enough and then i have to keep writing after this book is done, that there will be more work in this that just another edit.

i was so driven for most of 2020 and 2021 and then my entire life got ripped apart and remixed and only now two years later do i finally feel like i'm stepping back into myself. i started therapy again and in preparation for that i was reflecting on all the shit that's happened in the last two years and there was a comment i made to myself about how meeting EJ gave me the space to become my own person again post-lockdown and for a long time i thought that meant a New me that wasn't at all like the old me...i thought that i was giving up the old pieces of myself because they no longer fit or they hurt too much or i didn't know how to be who i used to be...but in the last month or so i really feel like i'm returning to the old me (taylor fan, reader, writer, TV binger, artist) while also honoring the new me (climber, cook, emotionally stable lol). i can't explain it but the old light that died in me at the coffeeshop is coming back stronger now.

and now that i'm (hopefully) moving (!!!!!!!) into my own place (AFJHSDK) i think i'm another step closer to that version of myself i've been chasing. which is to say, i'm having grace with myself and remembering all the old things i used to love doing and i feel like very very soon i will be in a safe space where i can finally explore who i'm meant to be. and while i'm terrified of living alone (for the financial reasons obviously) i also have to remember all the benefits of that terrifying prospect. that i'll have the space to be myself. and that peace will lead me to so many wonderful places i don't even know yet.

i'm still not sure when the writing will return to me...in rereading my manuscript i feel like i spend half the time going "NO NOTES!" and the other half going "this is the most cringe, most terrible writing i've ever seen fix all of it please!" it's intimidating and i'm no longer confident in myself like i once was, but now that i feel like i have no deadline and i'm sinking into the idea of a self-published book i'm a little more at peace with it. like i feel like when i do get back to it and start sitting in coffeeshops on the weekends, i will have the space to fully explore this story one more time and put the new pieces of myself inside it.

it's weird because another reason i was so scared of this story is that when i was last editing it i was deep in the trenches of 2021. i intertwined so many people and experiences from that season of my life into the manuscript and it almost feels like i'm just reading about ghosts now. but it's also the ghosts of lockdown and the ghosts of my early twenties and the ghosts of rep tour and the ghosts of all the people i hoped i'd be by now. it's a book about a 21 year old but somehow at 27 this story is more relatable to me than it has ever been before. i am writing my own story that doesn't have a happy ending yet and i think since i don't have the answers it feels like i can't explore that on the page. if i can't offer hope or the promise of a happy ending then does that story deserve to be told? (yes)

i thought i had given up on books and then something changed (as it always does) and i found my way back. i always do. and i always find my way back to writing too. it's just so hard to see life as a string of seasons and cycles when it feels like every second is the start and the end. there is space to grow and change and come back and return and revisit and leave things behind. there is enough time. and sometimes your time is best spent falling back in love with your life. i've spent the past few weekends feeling a little useless - sitting around, resting, not doing much of anything - and even though i can't keep doing that forever, i has forced me to get back in touch with what i want and who i am. sitting in my room with all my books and my cameras and my cool decor centers me, it gives me a reason to keep on living.

i truly don't know where i'm going this year. i have some ideas, some hopes and dreams, but i have resigned myself to "fixing" my every day. to focus on where i am, to make my day to day better and spend less time traveling. and while that would've scared me a few years ago before a global pandemic, i think now it's like a promise to myself. a promise that i am worth investing in and that i can get better and that even if i don't get better, right now is good enough. i had so many dreams for this time of my life that didn't come true and for a while i grieving them pretty hard. and then i set myself free from those dreams and i thought i'd never see them again...but that's not true at all is it? the things that love us, the things that we love never truly leave us after all, they always come back.

also i finally had a vision for the WIP book cover and even though it might change if i ever hit that point...it gave me a little push that sounded like "keep going" <3

[plant-flwrs]

Heyy!! I wish you would write a fic where Fred is lowkey really into Shakespear and Romeo and Juliet and tries to woo the reader cs she’s muggleborn? Idk but it would be so cute!! 🥺

romeo and juliet // fred weasley

masterlist!

summary: Fred reads Romeo and Juliet and can’t help but fall in love

a/n: schools out, so hopefully that means more time for writing! thanks for the request anon i thought it was adorable, hope you like it!!

(2.5k)

At first, it was a secret. Fred had no intention of actually enjoying it. He had simply accepted the book Professor Lupin had lent him, thumbed through it, and stayed up all night to read it by accident.

Maybe it was because Lupin had seen the way Fred looked at you across the class, separated by hidden bloodlines and upbringings. You, with your muggle pens that you smuggled in. You, with your muggle records you used an entire bag to carry onto the train. You, with your muggle magazines that spread through the common room like wildfire. You, with those weird little things called cigarettes that you sold in your third year to the older students. You, with the way the older pureblood witches would sit and ask you to do their hair for them because only you could do all the newest muggle styles. You, with your reluctance to Quidditch but your love for soccer.

Fred was gone, absolutely gone for you. He was even more behind than usual in class because he couldn't help but find you with his eyes, no matter the room you were in or the distance between you both. Remus Lupin, the secret romantic, asked Fred to stay after class.

"Mr. Weasley," Professor Lupin called, feet kicked up on his desk while he levitated a novel wandlessly in front of him. A half-eaten apple rested on a napkin beside a chocolate wrapper and Fred was forced to remember the breakfast he had barely eaten, choosing to instead pretend he hadn't noticed the fact you had only sat a few seats away.

Fred stood in front of Lupin's desk, waiting as the room emptied out and George shot him a wink from the doorway.

"Yes, Professor?" Fred rocked on his feet, hands stuffed in the pockets of his robe. He tried not to wonder if you had noticed that he had been called behind, or if you had noticed him at all. He vaguely registered that this might what his brother would call 'pathetic'.

"You never turned in that essay on wandless defenses," Lupin said slowly, the book moving to rest on his desk as he moved his feet to the ground.

Fred was quiet, biting the inside of his cheek as he couldn't seem to recall the last time a teacher had bothered to talk to him about his assignments instead of deeming him a 'lost cause' or a student who 'simply wouldn't apply themselves'.

Professor Lupin sighed, moving again to stand. Fred thought he caught a flash of pain on the professor's face, perhaps a wince as he stood, but the moment was gone before Lupin was giving Fred a calculating and sympathetic glance.

"Do you need an extension?" Remus offered, leaning his hip against the desk and inclining his head to show Fred the importance of this offering.

"I'd appreciate that, Professor," Fred admitted.

They were silent again, Remus still looking at Fred like he was something to figure out. Remus shifted, eyes dropped to his desk and lips lifting.

"What's got you so preoccupied?"

Fred was blushing before he could think of a lie, and then he realized he didn't want to lie. He hadn't even told George about his crush on you- no doubt it was obvious. Fred had had flings and crushes on loads of girls, all fun and easy, but this felt heavier. He didn't want to have a fling with you.

"I guess-" Fred sighed, removing his hands from his robes and wiping them on his trousers, "I've just been distracted recently. A lot on my mind."

"Ah," Remus smiled fondly, nodding slowly.

A book began to move from a pile in the corner, elegantly and easily avoiding the tall stacks of clutter and various lumps of papers to levitate to Fred. Fred reached out for it, moving it in his hand to read the cover. Romeo and Juliet.

"I'll make you a deal, Fred," Professor Lupin said, his voice sounding so mischievous that Fred was surprised he hadn't become ten years younger right in front of him. "You can either write the essay on wandless defenses, or you can read that and write an essay on 'Romeo and Juliet'."

Fred thumbed through the book, eyebrows furrowed. He had never liked reading, most of the books at the Burrow belonged to Bill, Percy, or his father. He was pretty sure that George would find Fred reading Shakespeare to be just as funny as the time they released Cornish Pixies in the Slytherin changing rooms.

"Yeah, alright."

Fred managed to eat dinner that night, with you safely at the opposite end of the table. The curtains to his fourposter had been closed for hours and the light from his wand had been steadily bright for just as long. He had gone from laying on his back, head propped up beneath his arms, to resting his back against the headboard, to sitting upright in the center of his bed, head propped on his fist, to laying on his stomach, to laying on his back again with his head at the foot of his bed, and soon enough, the sun was flooding through a crack in the curtains. He had just finished Romeo and Juliet when he heard the showers starting.

"Lupin!"

Remus stopped and watched Fred catch up to him. He looked tired and simultaneously wide awake, his hair was a mess, and Remus was almost certain that he was wearing his pajama pants beneath his school robes.

"Mr. Weasley," Remus said cordially, continuing his walk to the greenhouse.

"I wanted to talk to you about that book you lent me-"

"Oh, you can keep it, if you'd like. I've read it dozens of times."

Fred hesitated, a wide smile spreading over his face, "Oh, thanks, Professor! It's just, I wanted to tell you I really liked it."

"You've finished it, then?" Remus asked with an impressed smile.

"Read it last night," Fred admitted, somewhat embarrassed.

"I look forward to the essay, then," Lupin said with a kind smile and a nod, turning into the greenhouses and leaving Fred in the corridor.

Inside his robes, he felt the weight of the tiny book against his chest. He kept it in a pocket there, fingers itching to hold it and read it again.

He couldn't help the roaring thoughts in his head. The idea that you were his Juliet, that you and he could find a hidden love, just for you two, amongst your external differences. He was oddly disappointed by the ending and decided he might not completely finish the book if he read it again, perhaps pretend it ended differently. He leaned his back against the stone wall behind him, fighting a blushing smile from his face.

So, Fred loved Shakespeare in secret. He loved reading in secret. He loved the weight of the book in his hands in secret. He loved the words and the phrases in secret. He loved the way it made him think in secret. He loved you in secret. He loved in secret.

Until you started dating Thomas Meadowbrooke. Thomas was a Ravenclaw, wickedly smart, handsome, kind, and the victim of many of the Weasley twins' pranks for a while. George didn't directly ask Fred why they were suddenly pranking this one boy so relentlessly all of a sudden, but he didn't need to.

Thomas wore blazers with patches on the elbows and combed his silky hair down the middle. He always had a flower in his coat pocket to give to you and he always carried a book of poetry with him. He was sensitive and wistful in all the ways girls loved, including you.

You thought Thomas was painfully boring. He would fawn over you in the most annoying ways, giving you poems that he wrote (horrendously awful, they were) and quoting lines from old and boring books to you. He didn't listen to Joan Jett or Janis Joplin and he cringed when you played your records. He suggested Bach or Debussy instead. He was boring.

You had only agreed to go out with him because he asked. Thomas Meadowbrooke may have been able to put a cornish pixie to sleep just by talking to it, but he was undeniably handsome. Well, he was more handsome before he had fallen victim to a particularly entertaining Weasley twin prank that turned his hair gelled and spiked up for a few days.

You broke up with Thomas soon after. He took it well, saying it gave him fuel to finish some poetry he hadn't been inspired enough for before.

Remus heard this gossip quite excitedly.

"She did, did she?" Remus tilted his head, a coy smirk on his lips.

The smell of fertilizer was strong, but he learned not to mind it as he watched the merry witch digging in various pots.

"He was quite heartbroken, the poor thing. Filius said that when he did routine bed checks, he could hear Thomas crying for weeks!" Professor Sprout sighed, patting down the soil and checking for weeds.

"Teen romance is always quite fickle," Remus commented, following Pomona as she moved to the next pot.

"Says you!" Pomona playfully scolded Remus, her red cheeks filling as she smiled.

Remus chuckled, thinking back to Sirius who would sneak into his office later to distract him from grading papers.

"You know, Pomona," Remus said in that voice of his, the one that got Sprout to drop her trowel and lean in close to hear the latest gossip. "I think Fred Weasley's got a bit of a crush on Y/n."

Pomona gasped, dirty hand flying to cover her mouth. She paused, scrunching up her face and sticking her tongue out to spit out the clump of dirt.

"He hasn't!" she continued, not minding Remus' amused smile and the clean rag he offered her to wipe her hands.

"He's always staring at her," Remus said, thinking on it. "I reckon he's quite the secret romantic."

Pomona cooed and awed as she continued to tend to her plants, she and Remus trading anymore gossip that they could think of.

The weather changed at quite a convenient time for Fred. With the slightly warm but still a bit chilled fall weather, Fred could dawn his lighter coats. His lighter coats that happened to have wonderfully shaped pockets on the inside, just the right size for a book.

Fred wondered if you had gone out with Thomas because Ravenclaw book nerds were your type, or if you had broken up with him because Ravenclaw book nerds weren't your type. Fred had spent almost all of the warm weather contemplating how he was going to continue to live if he was determined to remain secretly in love with you. By fall he had figured it out.

Fred wasn't going to hide anything, not the books he had recently begun to love, or the way he loved so strongly. He wasn't going to miss meals because you were so distracting. He wasn't going to suffocate under his crush on you.

It was a beautiful day. George was up in the dorms with Lee working on a prank and Fred had decided to take a walk down to the Black Lake. His lighter coat was a bit heavier because of the book in the pocket, and Fred pushed his hair out of his eyes as he looked down at the ground to avoid stepping on tree roots. He found a nice spot beneath a tree, resting against the trunk and reading.

"Hey, Fred," a voice called, coming closer as they easily avoided the maze of tree roots.

Fred looked up to see you, in those perfect muggle clothes you wore any chance you could, hair styled in that wonderful muggle way, one of those muggle cigarettes tucked behind your ear, walking towards him.

"Hey," he responded, surprised by how easy his voice sounded.

"Have you been reviewing at all for Lupin's?" You sat next to Fred like it was the easiest thing in the world, brushing your shoulder against his.

"No, not really," Fred closed his book with his thumb tucked between the pages saving his spot.

"Mmm," you hummed, leaning your head back against the tree and closing your eyes. "What're you reading?"

"Romeo and Juliet," Fred replied, looking at your profile while he had the chance.

"Didn't think that was your thing," you said playfully, opening one eye to catch Fred looking at you.

He flushed and turned his gaze to his hands in his lap. "Me neither," he admitted, swallowing.

"I always liked ‘The Taming of the Shrew’, personally."

Fred smiled to himself, because of course, you had also read Shakespeare, and of course, you would have a cool favorite.

"I like that one, too," Fred said lamely, enjoying the way you were smiling at him.

By winter, Fred had devised a plan. It was perfect, more perfect than any prank he had created or any Zonko's product he had bought. He would die if he kept all this love to himself, so he decided all he needed was one kiss.

The Yule Ball was in full swing, the classical and slow music long forgotten as everyone moved to the dance floor and rocked to the loud and fast rhythm. Fred had seen you when you first arrived, noticing with glee that you were alone, and hadn't lost sight of you since. He had removed himself from the heavily crowded dance floor, stumbling to the table with the juice he and George had spiked hours earlier. He loosened the collar of his robes and pushed his already disheveled hair out of his face.

You watched Fred move through the crowd like a tornado, a mass of energy that you felt required to look at and admire. He strode to the table, a quiet and self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he took a long sip of punch.

Fred caught you staring at him with pleasant unexpectedness. You looked just as beautiful as you did when the night started, skin glowing and everything dawned upon you with your magical muggle-ness. Fred put his cup down, a comfortable pink hue warming his cheeks, and approached you. He touched his hand to yours.

"Hey, Fred," you said with an entertained smirk, glancing down at his hand on yours.

"I need you to do me a favor," he slurred, voice easy and breath warm as it landed on your skin.

"What kind of favor?"

"I need you to kiss me," Fred pulled his mouth away from your ear, looking to your face.

He didn't have much of an opportunity, though, before your lips were on his and you stole his breath. He tasted of the spiked punch and his hands were trembling and careful as they rested on your waist. You grabbed a fistful of his robes, pulling him close to you with urgency.

He pulled away, lips red and swollen, with his eyes still closed.

"I need you to do me a favor," you said, mouth hovering above his.

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me," you whispered, just loud enough for Fred to hear.

He listened, and held onto you with less trembling and more confidence as you kissed for the second time.

[namgee]

cry baby | jjk (m)

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f) ❥genre: smut, pwp, fwb au, university au (barely lol), fluff, 18+ ❥word count: 16.7k  ❥summary:

Jeon Jungkook [Jeon Jeong-gug] noun

1. The friendly (and hot) employee at your local roller rink. 2. Your friend with benefits of 3 months. 3. Someone who’s currently pissed at you for not casting your decisive vote on him in the disco rollerskating contest at his workplace. 4. A vengeful man determined on using his best assets to make you cry.

❥warnings: alcohol, cunnilingus, blowjob, deep throating, slight dom jungkook (?), tattooed jk (that I didn’t mention enough tbh 😩), fingering, rough sex, some overstimulation, some slight edging some spanking, biting (this could have been written as a vampire au lol), light exhibitionism, sex in public places,  reader gives a lot of looks 👀 (let me know if I forgot something) ❥a/n: this story jumps time a bit at the start I actually got confused with the tense since I’m so used to writing in the present tense, hopefully it’s not too confusing and doesn’t mess with the flow of the story, i was trying two new things with this story : writing smut and exploring new story structure, sorry for any spelling mistakes 🥺. any feedback is appreciated ;)) btw the title was inspired by the movie cause jungkook’s looks for the dicon shoot fit it to the T. ❥taglist: @min-nicoleee​ @jeonsjiddies​ @ggukkieland​ 

You really like fucking Jeon Jungkook. 

He is made of just the right ratio of hardness and softness. You can simultaneously take an impromptu seat on the set of hard thighs that made for an irresistible lap. Thighs that still manage to mold themselves into the perfect weapon to attack the ever growing heat in your center. It’s precisely because of how much you like being confined under his heaving torso in the darkness of the night or the crack of dawn that you loved to stir his competitive spirit. 

Jungkook has been working at Diane’s Rink since his sophomore year of high school. Now two years into college and very capable of finding a better paying job he still chooses to remain an employee. The boss, Diane Berry, knows very well about the positive impact his presence has on her business, so she decided long ago to give him some perks apart from the bonus that grows for every year he remained an employee.  

One of the perks is allowing him, as staff, to participate in events held by the rink. From there on Jungkook has won the annual disco roller skating championship “Disco Craze” for four years in a row! A fit that he deserves, he is a great skater after all. 

A year ago you had moved from out of town to attend college. During your minimal sightseeing you come across a poster for the rink and its annual championship at the town hall. It turned out a friend of your roommate, Kyra, was a frequent visitor and was going to participate. 

On a chilly autumn day, the three of you headed to the rink itching for any kind of entertainment. Upon entering, the atmosphere was bubbling, strobe lights colouring smiling faces, people were gathered around the rink already cheering even though the competition wasn’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes.

However, the minute you caught sight of what they were all looking at, an understanding nod was all you could give. Right there in the middle of the rink, the body of a well-shaped man clad with snug flare jeans skated effortlessly around as he swept the floor. You watched for a while as he moved around sweeping the same area a total of three times. Wow, he must really love the attention.

The competition started soon after you managed to get some snacks. Everyone clapped as the contestants entered the rink and lined themselves up for presentation. You were close to the rink ready to see it all when the real snack took the stage. 

Your roommate’s friend happened to be good, so good he managed to make you snatch your prying eyes away from “Mr. Swipe the Floor” for a good amount of time. Your attention was however brought back by the matter at hand as the sight of the most perfectly shaped globes of rear meat wrapped in a thin coat of denim passed by your eyes and you felt the urge to tap in. 

His performance on the rink, as if he was born in skates, didn’t help the matter at hand. Just like that, as if you were a primal woman hunting for a suiting partner and he was unaware of performing a nuptial dance, you made your mind then and there to somehow before the time you finish your education have him sweep something else other than the skating floor.

Everyone needs something to motivate them to keep going. Unfortunately for you, after that momentary day there weren’t many opportunities for you to go to attack. You can’t lie, you felt slightly guilty going after an oblivious prey, not that he looked like a prey. However, unknowing to you, your catch would lead to a drastic shift in your roles.

After a couple of months an opportunity finally presented itself. It was a Friday, the day after the fall midterm exam, and it was party time. Knowing fully well that his party royalty friends would drag him there, you figured you should go and try your luck. 

Somehow between finding out Kyra is a hardcore partygoer and getting lost in the enticing swing of the music you forgot about your primary mission. But a quick trip to the restroom, one which forced you to pass dozens of bodies plastered to the wall in pairs of two made sure to remind you of the night’s purpose. 

You searched around for him, a harder task than you had expected as people flocked around him and his friend group. You cursed yourself for the misfortune of having your eyes set on the popular boy with slick hair that’s otherwise hanging in loose waves, tucked behind his ears or in a bun. But it was too late then, you wanted something, someone and you were out to get it. 

In your moment of extreme strength and confidence, all of which were fuelled by Kyra’s weird and possibly slightly poisoning alcohol blend, you gave your best (and thankfully only) shot. Your eyes zeroed in on the man who you had come to know as Jungkook as he continued to socialise with his group of friends. 

The distance between the two of you wasn’t big (you had after all been creeping for most of the night) and no one was exactly looking at you, yet you put on your best stance and strutted confidently towards him. You had talked to Jungkook before for a grand total of two times, both of those instances were in class, so it technically didn’t count. As you approached the large group of people, shivers travelled up your spine at the sight of yet another snug pair of pants paired with a belt that accentuated his waist.

Just for a second you felt jealous and a bit insecure as you stared down at your own form. However, drunk you couldn’t keep her mind one thing for too long unless it was Jeon Jungkook (and some other miscellaneous but important things). The Jungkook that was looking at you as you lifted your head back up. 

FUCK.

You had imagined the first time you caught him looking at you to be very different. You were supposed to look confident, disinterested but still somehow soft. You thought that in some way, because women are amazing, you would have figured out how to make it all work.

Yet there you were looking back, gaze wavering to let yourself catch a breath. You were one hundred percent sure he was making you more intoxicated than whatever it was you drank. 

It was the forehead exposure, coupled with a sweet looking, curious puppy dog face that really made you realise you were fucked and you really wanted to get fucked. That day was your lucky day, maybe he had been  looking for a charity case. Jungkook’s eyes kept trailing past your tight fitting crop top to your fidgeting legs as you curved his group of friends and headed back the way you had come. The drink you had taken in the name of liquid courage had done absolutely nothing to help, but that time you didn’t mind, he had done exactly what you wanted without any prompting from your end. 

Your legs shuffled quickly away from them, crossing your fingers (in your mind of course), hoping his experience with the ladies made the message clear. You walked far enough to see Kyra’s reappearing form and still no sign of Jungkook anywhere near you. Maybe he wasn’t as intuitive as you had thought him to be. Or he was just playing with you the same way you would want to play with him, back and forth to see who would cave in first. 

Your chest deflated the closer you got to Kyra and you didn’t understand the enthusiastic smile she threw your way as she turned her back to you. Hmmm, okay, you guessed that was her way of cheering a friend up. You got near enough to whisper-yell at her about your debacle, but a smooth criminal wannabe named Jungkook got in between and you don’t think you had been any more happy in your life. 

“Thank god,” you whispered to yourself, pussy clenching right back up at the close up sight of his slick hair, the dizzying scent of his surprisingly sweet smelling perfume filling your nose as you attempted to discreetly inhale it all in, only to let out a loud sigh that bordered on a moan. 

“What’s your name?” He asked softly, eyes shifting to your feet to watch you take a small step back. You told yourself you moved to get a better look at him, to be able to be in control, enough to gauge the situation. You and him both knew it was a lie. You lost your footing at the sight of him and the creeping smirk on his lips which his teeth tried to fight away did more than just show his satisfaction.

But now that you were the tiniest bit farther away from him, you made the bold choice of looking up at him. He was still staring at you, everywhere. Face, cleavage, legs, the hands that toyed with the fabric of your pants. All you managed to catch, now that he was that much closer to you, closer than he had ever been and yet it didn’t feel close enough, was the glorious undercut on his head. If you didn’t want to fuck him before, now you definitely do.

He waved a hand in front of your face? Your eyes bulged. “What?” You sounded like a dumbass.

“Your name?” His head leaned closer into your space and your hand awkwardly traveled to swipe past your nose, hoping it was enough protection from his very conscious attack. 

“Hmm right… Y/N.” You gave him a strained smile. You were really straining after all, straining to keep yourself from jumping him in the middle of a room full with people. 

“I’ve seen you at Diane’s Rink before, do you skate?” 

Jungkook was making small talk with you and you never thought you would ever think this but it was weird. Though you couldn’t  control the way your heart skipped at the fact that he had noticed you before. 

“No. I don’t skate. I’m just there because my roommate's friend skates a lot, she introduced me to the place and you know, I thought why not. So like I end up going there whenever, I don’t have specific days or anything, yeah… I just think it’s a dope place to be at. Roller skating is fun and Diane’s Rink is just the right place to do that… yeah but as I said I don’t really skate…” If the amount of finger snaps, lip smacks, and shoulder shrugs inserted in between your reply wasn’t embarrassing enough, the weird skating motion you did with your body took the cake. 

But even through all of that, he chuckled. He chuckled loud enough for you to see his chest vibrate as the skin beside his eyes and nose scrunch up cutely. How? You swear you could have fried eggs on him just a minute ago (yes that’s how hot he was) and now this. Jungkook was already asking too much of your body  and you hadn’t even gotten in his pants yet. He let his soft chuckle die out, head hanging low along with his hair and decided it was time for you to die as he faced your gaze again, tattooed hand brushing through his hair as a full-blown smile adorned his mischievous expression.

Your Jungkook induced trance was broken for a second as you registered the quick floundering of someone’s hand behind him. Kyra’s hand. She made small hearts in front of her eyes only to make a cross with her arms. You gave her a pleading look. You guess it wasn’t enough for Jungkook to ask much of you but then your roommate wanted you to spare the little self control you had left to suppress your full blown heart eyes for a man and his skin tight leather pants.

You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes it would do something to bring your sanity back, anything. Jungkook’s right hand left his jacket pocket as he extended the tattooed hand your way, “You���re cute. By the way, I’m Jungkook.”

No. No. No! Wrong! He was lucky you already knew his name, how the heck did he expect someone to hear anything he says after he calls them cute, big gentle eyes looking at you. Also, have scientists yet to discover extra nerve endings on people’s hands because you’re sure a handshake wasn’t supposed to feel that good and warm. 

You stared at the way his hand surrounded your own. You were barely putting any strength into it (not that you had any). It was all too much for you and you snatched your hand away, shaking it as if you had just touched a hot pan. Now the whole of you had warmed up to an extra degree. 

“I’m going to get us some drinks. Would you like that?” You didn’t  give him any time to properly answer before you were  sprinting past his frame to grab onto Kyra’s arm as you pulled her to wherever the alcohol was. You turned a corner and found a safe place for the two of you to chat.

“Kyra it’s bad. Like really bad,” you whisper-yelled. “He’s all unaffected, making small talk for some weird reason and standing so close I almost, no I actually forget my own name. You know what, maybe I’m trying to catch a fish that’s just too big. I don’t think I’m ready to play with him yet. I should work my way up to the big boss, don’t you think? Maybe start with some hot dude from the sports department then someone from the arts department and then Jungkook from the science department. That’s a foolproof plan. What do you think?” You paced around her, sporting a convincing voice hoping that it was enough to fool your brain into downgrading its desires for a while cause your heart just wasn’t ready for him yet. 

“Hey!” Kyra slapped your arm. “It’s been what? 6, 7, 8 months of you thirsting after a man. Today it ends, my friend. I don’t care! You’re fucking Jeon Jungkook tonight. If that’s the only way for you to get it out of your system so you can notice all the other much better guys you could choose from if you want to have a meaningful and lasting relationship, then my sole mission today is to get his dick into your hole before this party ends.”

You gave her a side eye for her constant critique of your attraction to Jungkook. It is ninety percent physical but you had been around at the rink (only on the days he had a shift of course) to notice another side of him responsible for the growing ten percent of your attraction. But you would never tell that to Kyra. 

“Fine… but like, what do I do? Everything that comes out of my mouth is weird shit or tmi and I’m just flustered okay.” 

“Then don’t talk. Go back in there, give the drink you said you were getting–”

“You were eavesdropping on us?” Your incredulous voice didn’t  even faze her. She just gave you a ‘really?’ look and you put your hands up in surrender.

“Hmm where was I? Right!” She snapped her fingers, “Take him to the dance floor, back it up on him, get him hard, then move away from the crowd a bit and pounce!” She gave you her drink for prep,“From there everything should just progress naturally, maybe y’all will start with a couch make out sesh or just jump directly to the wall one and then find some cramped up place to bone it out, maybe if you’re lucky you will find an empty room.” 

You stared at her, chewing your lips.

“You can do this!” Kyra said, each hand on your respective arms as she gave you a hard stare. “Today, the thirsting ends. Okay, now go get the drinks” She shooed you away. 

“Right, right. I can do this” You pumped yourself up as if you were prepping for a boxing round and honestly it wasn’t too far from the truth with the way his whole presence was making your heart hammer against your chest. 

One drink in each hand you made it back to your spot, surprised and flattered that he stayed put but still nervous for what was to come. You reached out to give him a cup, the hand contact almost making you drop it.

“Hmm, sorry about earlier. I’m just you know, nervous.” You drank from your cup.

“Nervous, why?”

Kyra said no talking.

“Wanna dance?” You asked pointing to the crowd, completely ignoring his question. He shrugged his shoulder, taking a sip from his drink while squinting his eyes at you. He was feeling slightly confused by your behaviour. “Sure, why not?”

You chugged the remaining liquid in your cup, squirmed at the strength of the alcohol and made your first bold move by grabbing his open jacket and pulling him into the hot and sweaty crowd. You took a quick look at him before you did anything else and you were more than pleased to notice that he was patiently waiting for you to do something. 

The drink, the sight of him, the heat in the room and in your core. It was all getting to you and you really wanted to see the arms with which he swipes the rink clean. His muscles were always straining against the black polo shirt he wears during his shifts. But that day he was sporting a white tee under the jacket and you wanted to see and feel them. 

You turned around and lifted your hands to place them behind his shoulders, in his jacket and pushed it off, staring at the ground. “You know, if you’re going to undress me in public you could at least look me in the eye.” You took a deep breath and did just that, slipping the remainder of his jacket off his forearms . “That wasn’t so hard, now was it darling.” He gave you a looped-sided grin.

You were so turned on and yet you chuckled at the pet name. You didn’t hate it, but you didn’t quite like it, yet. It would have sounded much better coming from him in a gruff voice, with you placed under him taking all of him as an endless stream of moans fell out of your mouth. You needed to take another deep breath at the thought of that, hands clenching around the rough fabric of his jacket as your thighs rubbed together to get yourself under control.

“You good there darling. There’s shivers on your arms.” He pointed at you, tongue wetting his lips. 

Your head snapped down to see that he was right. You rubbed your arms as fast as you could. “Let me try,” his hands replaced yours. Safe to say it didn’t help as you shivered more under his touch wishing the floor would swallow you whole. The way you reacted to the absolute minimum when it came to him was getting embarrassing. “Okay, so maybe that didn’t help,” he said and it was time for you to give a side eye, to which he chuckled, again.

Instead he brought up the jacket in your hands and dressed you in his clothes. It was way too big, but it was warm and the smell of him warded off all the sweat odour from the dance floor. You slapped your thigh, you really needed to focus. The steps were: back it up → make him hard → make out session →  his dick in your hole. It was action time, baby!

You were then staring at the glory that was his chest, oscillating softly under the thin fabric of his tee and your hands ran down his arms, quick after you turned around pulling him closer unfortunately missing the sight of him shivering beneath your trailing fingers.

Your back was glued against the rigid surface of his chest as you went to town, swaying to the beat, your swiftness must have been impressive enough for him to emit a soft whistle. You did your best to suppress the proud smile forming on your lips. You kept at it, hand occasionally reaching back to rub at the back of his hair, only for him to huff and sigh in your ear prompting you to rub your hips further into his. 

It wasn’t long before he was looking for more. His flexed arms caged you, as his right hand ran down your stomach to grip at your thigh just as the other hand kept a tight hold of your hip. You whimpered at his touch, chest caving inwards as your thighs attempted to shut themselves even closer pushing your butt further into his crotch for you to feel it. Strong and prominent. Jungkook hunched over, out of courtesy you thought but you pulled back to continue your tempting ministrations. The shame was gone, all you wanted was for him to feel you up. 

You placed both hands behind his neck, caressing his skin and hair, rolling your hips against his even harder when the bass drops. “Ahhh,” Jungkook hissed into your neck before biting it, making you sight in response to the tightening of his grip. You could have remained pressed against him letting the heat of his chest radiate into you all day, all night frankly, but you wanted more. 

Reluctantly prying yourself off his hands you turned around to face him. His gaze was hooded, lips were parted, hair disheveled from your hands, chest oscillating faster than before and you thought you detected the smallest flush on his cheeks despite the darkness of the room. 

You pulled him back closer. He was really close now. Hard chest grazing hard nipples, anxious hands positioning themselves on his biceps as he rested his hands on your hips. You were really about to do it. Your hands travelled upwards to lock behind his head as he hunched down, hair falling in front of his eyes and his hands brought your chest closer. The way he tightened his hold around your torso, fingertips grazing your sides softly had you smiling into the kiss. 

It all felt too good, and if you hadn’t been sure before, you were then 100 percent convinced you’re not going to get over Jungkook’s lips anytime soon. That one night would definitely not be enough. You were so fucked!

Jungkook was hungry for more contact, hands travelling south to get a generous feel of your ass, he broke the kiss cutting off your soft moans to look into your eyes, a smirk on his lips, “Baby got back.” He slapped your right cheek, and you shrieked only to sink back into moaning as he rubbed the sting away. 

Before he gave it another try you pulled his head down, opening up your mouth to let him explore another part of you. The strong alcohol mix blended between your tongues, as your hands pulled the back of his t-shirt to somehow get him closer. Jungkook chuckled into your kiss and all you did was mumble a disfigured “What?!” 

“Nothing,” he whispered as he lifted you up and away from the dance floor. “I just think–” peck, “it’s time we find–” peck, “another place to continue this–” peck. The domesticity of it all, despite the environment, left you stunned, cheeks warming up considerably and all you could do was hide your face in the crook of his neck. You liked it, in fact you liked it a little bit too much. 

Jungkook might have wanted to give you the lovey-dovey scenario but the truth was you were at a college party, bumping with sweaty bodies on the way to find some privacy, half drunkenly tripping over littered staircases was what you needed to get through. Which you did with the help of a strong hand grabbing onto the hem of his t-shirt as you attempted to navigate the dimly lit apartment. 

“Hey, hey, slow down there,” Jungkook sounded behind you as he pointed to a room that just then became vacant when two ruffled figures pursued a silent retreat from it. Though the last thing you wanted to do was slow down. You shuffled back and into the space. 

The room was hot, smelled of sex and alcohol and the bed sheets were a mess. Jungkook threw a calculating eye towards the bed.

“Under the sheets?”

“Under the sheets,” you answered as you helped him discard the duvet. 

“You really want to take the risk?” He asked, pointing back at the door as he walked to your side of the bed. The right side.

You thought it through in your head. The worst thing that could happen was someone walking in while Jungkook’s is balls deep in you. The best thing that could happen was Jungkook being balls deep in you. Also maybe the worst thing wasn’t t that bad after all, you thought as the thought of someone seeing Jungkook fuck you shoot a shiver up your legs and into your pussy. 

“Uh huh,” you answered, breathless and squirming when his hands dove into the back of your crop top and his teeth nibbled at the exposed skin of your cleavage. “God..hmm, fuck,” he moaned into your skin making it even hotter as you ground your dripping center against his groin and your hands pulled his slick and soft hair to keep yourself from melting into a puddle.

“Please touch me.” 

Your voice was barely audible in between your whimpers. Jungkook’s hands slid down your back to sprawl his big palms on your ass as he controlled your grinding, looking into your eyes. You couldn’t keep them open, not that you needed them to decipher his eagerness. If the soft moans, the big hands and the biting weren’t enough to let you know exactly how he was feeling, his dick was more than glad to help as it grew stiffer by the minute, grazing harder and harder against your drenching heat. 

Did you love the way his hands glided over your heated skin, seemingly setting it on fire as he kneaded it every chance he got? Yes! But you wanted him to touch you elsewhere.

“Plea—ah, touch m—oh.”

Jungkook kept showing you that there were more ways to use his mouth. He had kissed and bit you but nothing could have prepared you for his sucking. Somehow while you were busy craving for his touch, he had undone your bra and discarded it somewhere and now he had his warm and wet mouth around your sensitive mound as his hand massaged the other. His hot tongue swept over the thin fabric covering your nipple, biting the erect tip only for you to whine and squirm at the loss of contact with his cock. 

He took his time, enough for sweat beads to form along your hairline. You whined, pushing yourself against any surface of him within your reach. You could have been vocal about wanting to feel him on you, skin burning against yours, to feel him in you, his strong appendage exploring your heat. Yet you kept your mouth shut for fear of the sound that might leave you

Jungkook gave your breast a particularly hard bite before your hand slid from your hair past your slippery chest to hold onto his slick locks. Your uncontrolled, whiny moans didn’t seem to do much to change Jungkook’s speed. Somehow, his exploration of your breasts became even more languid, lending enough time for your breaths to become synchronized. 

His tongue trailed its way back up to graze your slack jaw as your eager hands latched on the thin fabric of his t-shirt to push him down onto the bed. That seemed to bring him back to reality, glazed eyes staring right at you. Jungkook thought that you wanted it to be a two-way street, not just him pleasuring you but you him. However his jittery leg couldn't’’t help but show his eagerness to try out whatever it is that he had in mind.

“So….” He exhaled, breathing slowly going back to normal.

You started a bit longer at him, after all, this wasn’t about Jungkook getting his fill, it was about you getting yours. You were the one who had been fantasizing about this for an unhealthy amount of time. So truthfully, you weren’t looking for a two-way street. You wanted something else. “I want to use you.” At that his leg stopped bouncing. 

Maybe you knew a lot less about Jungkook that you thought. At the sight of his rippling muscles removing his t-shirt the “keep your mouth closed” rule you had imposed on yourself flew out of the window. Your shining eyes gained a chuckle. “You look like a kid in a candy story,” he said while he crossed his arms hoping his bulging biceps would divert your attention from another straining part of him. Jungkook deducted that you liked to watch as your teeth abused your lips, to let your eyes run past his tooth-rothening sweet expression to his broad shoulders that were slightly red from your previous eagerness, down his chest to his happy trail and equality happy dick. 

He was right, you liked watching, but not just watching anyone, watching him. You were finally getting front row, uncensored material to fill all the previous fantasies you had had of him at night, in the morning, in class, at the rink, anywhere really. 

You dropped to your knees, ass on your feet, as your hands ran down his thighs to feel them clench under your touch, “Don’t worry I’m not too much of a kid, I won’t take too much and leave you dry,” you said, floundering hands reaching for his zipper. Jungkook made it easier for you, spreading his legs to let you closer into his space. 

You couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in front of you only to shy away and stare at the floor, You took an apprehensive look at Jungkook whose lips were slightly parted, eyes soft, waiting for you. For someone who was just having a quick fling he was weirdly patient and understanding. “Sorry for staring,” you whispered, undoing the zipper and reaching behind as he lifted his hips from the bed for you to pull his pants and underwear down his ass. A soft grunt escaped his lips as your finger grazed the flesh of his toned ass.“As long as you’re not disgusted. If anything I’m flattered.” He smiled down at you.  

He spread his thighs wider, allowing you a full view of his veiny up-curved cock, rushing blood tainting the tip an angry red. Now he was showing off, to which you threw him a sly smile which he returned with a wink as you shook your head, hand reaching for the alluring throbbing length. At your touch you heard a sharp intake of air above you, you gave a tentative lick to his tip receiving a slight jolt. 

You had gotten so far, yet the prospect of having Jungkook staring at you as you blew him off had you shy. With a gentle hand to his hard chest you prompted him to lay down on the bed. “Stay down,” you breathed against his dick. “Unfai–ahhh” he didn’t get to finish his protest as you enveloped your warm mouth around his thick tip, swirling it around as the salty taste of precum coated your tongue and an involuntary hum of approval reverberated in your chest. Yeah this was worth it, you thought as you plunged more of him into your mouth to his approving groans. “Fuck, oh, you feel so good.” You didn’t think of yourself as having much of a praising kink, but the praise coming from him with a throaty voice in between his gasps, had your pride swelling along with his cock. 

Your head bobbed up and down his hard shaft, saliva coating the surface generously as your hand twists around his length. A particularly good suck of your mouth on his cock had Jungkook’s thighs clenching around your frame, a hand rooting itself on your hair. “Yeah, right there. Fuck.” You repeated the same movement whining at his tightening grip.”Sh–agh I’m gonna cum soon if yo– oh fuck you’re too go–” Your thighs were clenched tightly around your heated core, your other hand gripping onto one of Jungkook’s shivering thighs. You were really doing it. Feeling the weight of him on your tongue, pushing back and sucking him further down your throat. The rush of glee in your body was unavoidable.

You pulled through, opening your aching jaw further as you pumped more of him into your mouth, tongue fully stretched letting his mouth watering cock be embraced by the constricted walls of your throat. The instance he felt the effect of the depth of your throat, your nails plunging into the skin of his thighs for added intensity, Jungkook couldn’t keep himself down anymore. He heaved his clenching torso back up to a seated position at the sound of your gags. They resounded loud enough to drown his discombobulated mix of heavy sighs and groans, yet he wished he could swap the backdrop electronic music for the slippery and choked out sounds being emitted from your warm throat. 

“Hey hey hey, slow down or I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he said in a rushed voice as you relentlessly continued your attack on him, keeping your promise of using him. 

When words didn’t seem to be getting to you, he attempted to yank your head back a bit but you stayed rooted, throat somehow engulfing him deeper as the strong command of his arm flattered against your ministrations and had him bucking his hips upwards. You choked on his length, landing a warning slap to his thigh which didn't seem to help other than encourage Jungkook’s inevitable descent into a whining mess. “Oh-h sh-it, fuck me.” His stuttering breaths along with the scent of him as your nose touched the base of his cock had you dizzy and dripping wet, nails scratching his skin meanwhile tears coated your hot cheeks. When you were done with him you were sure he would file an animal complaint report. You weren’t exactly trying very hard not to mark him.

Despite your aching throat and jaw, you resolved to take him deep one last time. But that seemed to be one last time too many as the hot exhale of Jungkook’s breaths further warmed your forehead and he buckled forward from the pleasure. His O-shaped mouth connected with the top of your head whilst he defiled your throat and mumbled curses through gritted teeth. 

Your worn out mouth retracted to give place for your arms to do the finishing work. Before you could pick up the speed, Jungkook’s mouth found your abused lips, tongue probing your entrance to lap up at the excess saliva, sighing softly into the kiss. The hand in your hair kept you rooted in the racking of his teeth against your lips and for a second you thought of letting him use you too. That was until you gave him a small bite of your own and felt him twitch in your hand. Your other hand wrapped around his wrist to remove his hold on you as you tore your lips off of his just to stare at his hooded eyes. 

“I’m supposed to be using you Jeon.” Your hands resumed their work on his cock, welcoming back the straining breaths of the godly man seated in front of you. He was leaning back on his arm as his other hand latched onto his sweaty hair, trying to anchor the sanity that threatened to leave him at the sight of you working on him so diligently. A sight that would remain ingrained in his mind for a very long time. You made sure of it. “Oh, I’m close,” he slurred.

You stuck your tongue out, “Woah really, you’re sure about it?” He might have sounded concerned but you could still manage to see the glint in his sweaty expression. He wanted it. So you played along, “Jungkook pleaseeee,” you whined head moving closer to his flushed cock. You left the rest to him, watching as his fingers fluttered around his length to form a strong hold as he pumped himself with your saliva past his edge. “A–A– Ahhh hmmm, oh fuck.” White warm stripes of salty cum landed on your tongue at the same time that you watched the satisfying decoration of tightly knitted brows, eyes shut tight and bottom lip caught between his teeth on his face following his hurried release. 

You pushed your ass off your feet to stand back up and Jungkook met you, standing tall, hands as eager as ever as they wrapped around your form. You shivered at the graze of your nipples against his taut chest. Jungkook went on to leave even more marks on your skin, teeth grazing and nipping your flesh between the wet trail of soft kisses he made sure to leave before his mouth reached the sensitive shell of your ear. “Thank you,”he whispered and you almost laughed out loud but managed to keep under control. “I wasn’t doing you a favour, Jeon. I’ve wanted to suck your dick for a while now. So really, I should be the one saying thank you.” 

Your hands traveled down his back as you placed your head in the crook of his neck to give him some of your own marks, except a lot less delicate which you could tell by the way he squeezed you tighter. 

You let your arm travel in between your bodies to wrap around his neck as your other arm took it upon itself to get him ready for another round. The most important one. Your fingers played with the strong raven strands on his head earning approving hums from his broad chest. With calm strokes to his member you felt him hardening. But Jungkook also wanted his fun so with two hands of his own he undid the measly buttons of your pants. It was either he was somehow good at undoing buttons while pressed against someone or he just had a lot of experience, but Jungkook did not tear his eyes away from yours. You stroked him harder, pulling soft, strained yet compelling reactions from him, his hot breath fanning your face in the time that you felt the weight of his forehead against yours. 

Addicted to the feeling of your hands on him, he let you fondle with him a bit longer instead choosing to play with the softness of your ass. His hands familiarised themselves with the strong curve of your cheeks and their strong jiggle potential when he grabbed a handful of your butt to pull you closer so he could grind on you. “Ohhh,” you sighed into yet another bite of his shoulder. 

Jungkook kept grinding and you kept whining and sighing. By then you were sure you had soaked through your panties and down your thighs, something he wished to witness as his fingers hooked around your pants and pulled them all the way down. You were raring to keep stroking him. Honestly, you could have held his dick forever if asked to. It was heavy and hot against your palm, velvety skin dragging up and down with each movement of your hand. And with every particularly good stroke on your end it would give you a little reward twitch.

But Jungkook had other plans. He stood back up, hands sliding behind your thighs to heave you up, legs around his waist as he climbed onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress with your form still clinging to him and arranged the few pillows to his satisfaction. He tapped your thigh for you to let go and lay splattered on the bed, wet and needy pussy on display for him. You still had on your flimsy crop top, which he all but ripped off you. 

“Hey!” You went in for a hit on his chest, which he blocked. “Not cool, this isn’t some sort of movie you know,” you pouted angrily at him to which he smiled back.  He wondered how he didn’t not notice you at the rink before? 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He made small talk as he spread you further to stare at your dripping centre. “Who says we’re gonna meet again after this?”

Jungkook ran his fingers past your wet folds, coating himself in your want as he turned his eyes back at you to be met with the sight of your cheek. “All this juice says.” You heard a loud pop and tried to shield yourself but his thighs were in the way. “Oh, now you’re shy,” he huffed lightly as he held onto your ankles to push himself back enough to be at eye-level with the result of his alluring nature. 

“Is it okay if I eat you out?” you didn’t know if he had intended his question to come out as soft as it did, like he really believed that you didn’t want his face between your thighs. “Jeon just get to it.”you acted detached. He shook his head at your feigned annoyance and grabbed a handful of your thighs, rooting himself close enough to your gaping hole that your folds tickled from his shallow breaths. 

He bit his way past your clenched thigh and gave you one last squeeze, “What a pretty cunt.” One he dived right into, tongue lapping at the excess wetness with an excruciatingly slow lick . “Ahh, fuck.” You did your best to take a deep breath, one supposed to calm your jitters down but Jungkook wasn’t looking to give you mellow head. Harshly kneading the skin of your thighs, he buried his face deeper into your pussy, pointed tongue travelling past pooling juices to probe your entrance hard enough for your hands to bunch into fists hard that would leave crescent moons on your palms. 

“Oh–My–God.” You moaned between rhythmless breaths. You squeezed your eyes, back arching off the bed when he licked you in a particularly hungry away only to graze his teeth lightly against your sensitive flesh. “You good up there?” You could feel his smile against your inner thighs. You shoved your heel into his side in retaliation. “Oh, aggressive in bed? Sexy” You propped yourself up on your elbows to give him a dumbfounded look as you motioned to him to keep it going. “Awww, you’re so mean to me darling.” His shiny lips formed a pout and you did your best not to react to what he had just called you. “Please,” you muttered for good measure. But Jungkook seemed like an easy person to please and an even bigger people pleaser so he got back to the task at hand.

While he had kept quiet for most of the time he was devouring your pussy, now with some kind of newfound confidence he hummed soft words of praise at every little twitch of your legs and buck of your hips and every soft gasp that left your lips. His eagerness fed off of your whining and tossing and he grew harder for every squeeze of your thighs he felt against his broad frame. 

While Jungkook was satisfied with having you laid out for him, oozing your desires into his tongues for him to taste and praise, he wanted to see how far he could take you. Maybe it was just him and his competitive spirit or maybe it was his need to explore more of you, to add one more thing on his list of “who Y/N is” before you parted ways. Whatever it may have been, it made him bring his hand down to plunge a strong finger past your folds and into your welcoming heat. You yelped at the sensation, hands finally settling on Jungkook’s hair only for your hold to strengthen as he slipped the finger in and out. 

“You like that darling?” You chose not to answer, you didn’t want to inflate his ego anymore as if he wasn’t able to make out the answer for himself, which he did when a second finger made an entrance and you whined at the delicious feeling of the slight stretch. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You flapped your foot against the mattress when he went back to attacking your centre with his tongue, flicking at your clit, landing fluttering kisses that have the knot in your stomach tighten further while his scissored you into a whining mess.

“I didn’t know I was about to fuck a fish.” He laughed as you felt the swipe of his tongue when he retracted from his kisses which set off the aim of your kick against his side. “Next time remind me to bring a tie or a few of them. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate the reaction but I don’t like to be disturbed while I am ravaging such a delightful pussy.” You wanted to abandon the daze Jungkook had induced within you, just for a second, enough to refute his idea of a second time, but the rushed addition of a third finger inside your wet walls shut you up. Jungkook pressed his digits with determination, alternating speeds to make a mockery out of your need for oxygen. 

Things seemed to come in a duality for him. While he wished nothing more than to make a mess of you, and revel in the mix of gushing sounds from your cunt and pitched curses blessing his ears, he equally wanted to slide the softness of his cheeks against your thighs only to turn his head to cover you in ghostly kisses. He wanted you to feel everything, his fingers turning you into putty, his breaths fanning turning you even hotter, the dip of his other hand beyond your clenched stomach and past the valley of your chest as you held your breath long enough to exhale into the commanding squeeze of his tattooed fingers around your breast.

He went on, you screamed on. He fed himself off your cries and scratches on his scalp, slurping on the endless gush resulting from months’ worth of pent up horniness of your part. 

You slapped Jungkook’s shoulder, hoping to bring him out of this endless exploration with his tongue. You were close. “Jungkook~,” you whined, head tossing side to side. He hummed against you, grabbing a fistful of your ass, somehow bringing you closer than you already felt. You were beyond controlling yourself, legs trembling at the combined attack of his nose against your clit, tongue curving as he soaked you up. ”There you go, come for me darling.” 

He engulfed your bud around his lips and your hands retracted for your breasts, any semblance of normality and balance slipping from your fingers into Jungkook’s hair. “Jeo— oh god, fuc—yeah right...” You trailed off, words getting caught in your throat, back arching your feverish chest against the stale air of the room, hands clenching around his locks at the moment the compiled knot of your arousal snapped under Jungkook’s attentive care. 

You tried to control your quivering legs and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s slow and steady ascent from the place between your legs to your lips, you might have shrieked at an alarming volume. You still shrieked but the same coated lips that brought about your orgasm, were placed on yours to bring you back down to your usual composure. You tasted yourself on his tongue. And you couldn’t control the twitch of your torso when his hand went to caress your back, pulling scorching skin against each other. 

The light and docile dance of Jungkook’s fingers brought about a different demeanour in you. At least that was what you let yourself believe. You exhaled an amused deep breath in the crook of his neck as your high came to an end, “Fuck, you’re good at this.” 

“Again, thank you,” he said calmly, yet you felt the slight thumping of his heart against your breast. It must be from vigorous exercise. 

The both of you lay next to each other on your side for a moment, Jungkook’s arm draped over the dip of waist. 

“Honestly, we could end here and I would be happy,” you said closing your eyes, letting your neck rest as your head slumped against his chest. A small laugh erupted from him.

“It’s you saying shit like that, that will make sure we don’t end here, at least not if I can do something about it.” He ran his hand along his neck and you truly believed in your soul to be staring at a Michelangelo painting. You ogled the way his arm stretched sideways to reveal the small bed of air in his armpit as his biceps bulged (whether he’s showing off or that was just your perception didn’t matter and you frankly didn't care). 

His hairstyle was no longer present, hair completely out of his face and you imagined this was what he must look like when he wakes up, albeit less sweaty and red from all the scratches and marking. His face looked a lot softer, the fat on his cheek more prominent and the largeness of his eye more notable.

Maybe that was a bit harsh, but you would rather not have him text you during this specific weekend. You didn’t know what kind of texter he was, but if you based it off your only interaction, he seemed rather talkative.You just needed some time to let what just had happened and what would continue to happen sink in.

“Stop staring at me. It’s not helping your case for stopping here,” he said, blinking a couple of times to look past you. This Jungkook, who was in fact like all the versions of Jungkook you had seen during your pining months, had you feeling less intimidated enough for you to smile at his remark. The first proper smile he got to see. He wanted to comment on it but you spoke before.

“You wear glasses?” 

“How do you know?” He asked back.

“I didn’t. I just noticed you blinking a lot so I guessed.”

“I wear lenses for the most part, but my eyes are quite dry. It’s usually not a problem. But I wasn’t trying to miss any of your reactions,” he winked

You huffed giving him an incredulous look. You wondered what he looks like with glasses on? Does he look hotter or cuter? You were  about to continue building on your imagination when he decided that break time was over by pulling on your arm to have you laying on top of him where you could now feel his reenergized cock. You threw yet another look his way as if you weren’t mentally drooling at the thought of seeing him with glasses.

“I told you to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about me. Thinking about me outside of this context.” 

You were too childish to admit, so you did the first thing that comes to mind at the sight of his chest. You bit it.

“Ouch! You really want me to make you cry again huh?”

Deeming him distracted enough from the previous path your conversation was taking. You stretched your neck to his pierced ear. “I want you to fuck me now, Jeon.” If the shift of his gaze wasn’t proof enough of the sudden change in atmosphere. Then the contraction of his hands against your frame, as your heart triumphed at the feel of his cock hardening further against the edge of your thigh, made it clear.

“Hmm such a potty mouth,” he gave you a serene kiss, hands travelling deeper into the valley of your back. “Not even a small please.” He got a very deliberate feel of your ass while nipping at your collarbone. 

Using both hands placed at the top of his V cut, you pushed yourself to a seated position on top of his hard dick, pulling an agitated groan from Jungkook’s lips. You ground your hips on top of him, wet pussy lips providing copious lubrication, “Please~," you moan, head hanging low. He bit his lip, hand colliding with your ass, “That’s more like it.”

The feel of him was more overwhelming than you had imagined and when Jungkook rooted his hands on your hips to guide you into a slower grind, your legs squeezed against him at the feel of his tip grazing your entrance. You threw him a side eye, fully aware of his teasing. But you didn’t mind it all too much, especially not when it felt so good. The kind of good that made you close eyes and munch on your bottom lip for fear of uttering something utterly stupid but very true like, “God, I could fuck you forever.” 

“Huh, whatcha say?” Your eyes shot open to look at Jungkook’s distorted eyebrows above the eyes that were staring at the conjunction between your groins, lip still caught in his teeth. “Nothing,” you dismissed your unintended statement easily, diverting his attention to the current moment.

The hand that was splattered against his sweaty chest traveled to wrap around his fully erect penis as Jungkook hissed at your touch. “Oh fuck, you’re really gonna ride me?” You couldn’t help the prideful swell of your chest at his enthusiasm. Jungkook might have seemed intimidating but he definitely knew how to praise. At the rate he was going, you were one hundred percent sure you would be boasting about fucking him for the rest of the academic year. 

You pushed against your knees, body relaxing thanks to the soft caresses Jungkook left on the sides of your thighs. Okay, you were really going to do it? Your heartbeat had skyrocketed, eight months of pining and imagining finally coming to an end. You were ready to sink onto his length.

“Wait! Condom.” He said pointing to the side of the bed where his discarded leather pants should be somewhere. 

“Right,” you shook your head, coming back to your senses as you shuffled quickly off him and the bed to grab his pants.

“Nice ass,” he emitted a subtle sound of approval making you roll your eyes as you bent back up, pants in your hand. “Back pocket,” he instructed. You found exactly one condom. “I see you didn’t have too many plans of your own for tonight,” you said in what was supposed to be a light tone, but it came off far more judgemental. You managed a smile for good measure, climbing back up on top of him.

You teared off the packaging, unrolling the condom onto his cock which was wet with your want. A soft “oh” came from underneath you when you reached the base of his dick. Jungkook’s look had somehow become even more intense, he stared as your fingers traveled to hold his shaft, positioning yourself above it. While you tried to make it subtle, he noticed the small breaths you took apprehensively before sinking his member into your wet warmth. 

You both sighed, you delighted by the thought-erasing stretch of Jungkook’s throbbing length as he ended up fully sheathed in you, and him simultaneously entranced by the tightness of your walls and the sight of you on top of him. Jungkook might not have known you before now, but he was sure he wouldn’t ever forget you. In fact, he doesn’t.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love a good cockwarming but it would be a waste if I com—,” you shifted your hips a bit “before I got a good dicking in.” 

“Jeon, shut up. I need to adjust okay.” 

Jungkook was about to open his mouth to boast, you were sure of it so you slapped your palm down on his mouth. You thought you heard him mumble something along the lines of “kinky” as crinkles showed up besides his eyes.

You took yet another deep breath, moaning at the slow drag of his veiny cock against your pussy as you slid up, tip almost leaving your core only to slide back down, a small shriek emitting from your throat on the fast descent. Jungkook’s hands left your sides to remove your hands from his chest so he could lift his torso to a seated position. You gave him a quizzical look. “I just want to be able to kiss you,” he pushed the two of you closer to the headboard, back leaning lazily against the surface, “if I want to, which I will,” he felt the need to add.

So you plunged forward, smashing your lips against his, his head almost hitting the headboard. Arms coming around to rest behind his neck, you picked up the speed as the slapping sounds of your ass against his thighs filled your space. “Ohhhh god,” you sighed against his shoulder. The room was brimming with gushing sounds, Jungkook’s cock ramming into yours between never-ending gasps and groans, and ongoing praise from Jungkook’s end telling you how good your pussy felt, how good you were to him. “Fuck, do you hear how wet you’re for me?”

You stuttered, hands slipping against the headboard when his hips thrusted to meet yours, “Fu-ff-fuck.” You were unsure if you were gonna be able to formulate any coherent words until you came. Ever the ass man Jungkook’s hands spread over your rear flesh guiding you up and down his rigid shaft as he pleased, tethering on the edge between teasing and pleasuring you, further torturing you and himself. 

But he couldn’t  help it, not when you were whispering sweet nothings into his ears, biting his shoulders, scratching his back, mewling and squealing at the feel of him hitting your deepest spot. So Jungkook repeated it as many times as he saw fit, pulling himself out only to slam back into you, feeling your stature tense around his strong arms as you teeth latched on to the skin of his collarbone.

Jungkook kept bouncing you on his cock, mouth extending towards your neglecting mounds, as he placed his hot mouth against it, sending tingles down your spine which made you grind against him. He lapped at the skin, tongue toying with your nipples, further guiding you up and down his dick with his strong hands. You held onto his forearm for balance, crying out into the air. “Ahhh fuck, please Jeon, fuck me more.” 

You were actually not making sense. How exactly was he supposed to fuck you more? You didn’t know but Jungkook made it known that he was the man. He held you still and steady above him and began his assault on your sensitive cunt. He bucked into your hips with a relentless speed that had your breast bouncing in his face, to his delight. Your thighs were burning, knees ready to give up as you screamed shamelessly. 

Jungkook hissed as he felt your pussy tighten around him, milking the come out of him. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. You sighed deeper into his thrusts when he spanked your ass shooting pleasure straight to your tightening core as you did your best to restrain your oncoming orgasm. You wanted it to last forever. 

You decided to start moving again, meeting his thrusts halfway, intensifying the effect as Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, a hand anchoring itself at the back of your neck as he stared into your fucked out expression. You were sweaty, eyelids down but squeezed, mouth open, jaw slack and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. He pulled you down by your neck, lips rubbing against each other. You managed to kiss for short bursts of time frequently separating, mouths agape to gasp and moan at the feeling of each other, feeling yourselves close to coming. 

Your hand moved to cup Jungkook’s cheek before you tilted his head back with a gentle hair grab, “Jungkook, make me come,” you said before kissing up his jaw. The fact that you had called him by his first name for the first time was not lost on him and he couldn't control the wide smile that spread on his lips. “Anything for you darling,” he kissed into your neck.

Suddenly, reenergized Jungkook jolted his hips forward, stronger than before, digging deep into your soaked core as he marked your shoulder. His thighs pushed against your own, spreading you wider, no barrier in sight as his hand found your clit, which he rubbed in quick circles as he continued to roll his hips into yours, dick straining against the increased tightness. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” 

It was when Jungkook started to piston into you that you felt your body slowly lose itself. The knot in your stomach coiling, ready to snap, thighs trembling from being held in place. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered. 

He didn't think he would ever get tired of you calling his name. “Come for me darling. Cream on my cock,” he demanded, hand digging into your ass as he continued rubbing your clit. A few more thrusts came along before you choked, body rigid as the coil in you snapped, and you gushed on Jungkook’s dick to his big pleasure. Your entire body quivering under his soothing caresses. You stayed in place, moaning when Jungkook swiped his hand past your pussy lips so he could have a taste. He hummed, fingers in his mouth, “You’re delicious darling.” You smiled too tired to give him any ounce of attitude. 

But you were not done yet, so you pulled through letting your raw cunt sink back down on Jungkook’s cock. You started moving to his enjoyment. You were sensitive so you went slow, but that didn't seem to have any less of an effect on Jungkook who huffed in between breaths, trying to enjoy as much of you before he came. You leaned into him, lips biting and licking his earlobe, “Can you come for me baby?” 

Were you playing dirty? Yes. But honestly you didn't know how much longer Jungkook could hold and you were sensitive, so you played on his apparent weakness, he liked to please and you liked to be pleased. On top of that his pulsating dick made it known that he liked the term of endearment. “Ohh god, please call me baby again,” he grunted.

“Will you come then?”

“Fuck yeah.”

With a couple more strokes in the bag, a tensed Jungkook under you, you raked your fingernails down his back, kissing up his shoulder to the junction between his shoulder and neck where you placed a light bite before licking your way up to his ear. “Baby,” you kissed the contour of his ear, “Jungkook, come in me baby,” you mewled, dropping down onto his shaft.

You gasped at the strong grasp Jungkook had on your hips as he grunted, hips stuttering into you. His hot breath heated your chest while his strong arms abused your skin and he kept mumbling curses under his breath with his eyes screwed shut. “Oh shit, ugh, fuck ahhh,  you’re….” He trailed off, speech rolling into sighs as he ran a hand down his face.

“I am ?,” you inquired.

“The best I’ve ever had,” he said hugging you. He wanted to say something else, but he doubted either of you were ready to deal with what it could possibly entail.

You got off of his lap to lay on the bed, exhausted but fully satisfied. After all, the eight month long pining was worth it.. You couldn’t wait to scream to Kyra about this. You could genuinely go the remaining of the year being celibate, that’s how satiated you felt.

Jungkook poked your side, bringing you back from your thoughts, “About that offer, I am up for it if you are,” he probed in a weary tone.

“What offer?”

“I mean I didn’t hear you too clearly, but I’m pretty sure you said something about being able to fuck me forever.”

You stayed silent. After all you didn’t know what kind of offer that involves sex he was making. The committed or uncommitted kind?

“I just thought, ya know,  we’re pretty compatible so we could scratch each other’s back once in a while.”

“Are you talking about being friends with benefits?”

“Yeah! That.” He turned to his side to gauge your reaction, “ Only if you want of course! Otherwise forget I asked.” 

You thought back to what Kyra said. There’s more to the male species than Jeon Jungkook. But honestly after the fuck you had just had, you were quite content with deluding yourself for a couple of months, or however long the arrangement could last.

You satt up on the edge of the bed, “Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.” 

“Oh! Okay, uhm cool then,” he said, sounding both surprised and enthusiastic.

You were dirty but you still put your clothes back on, stealing Jungkook’s t-shirt. “I’m taking this cause you tore my top off.” It was too big for you, but it smelled nice, like him. Maybe it could cover up the sex stench you had on.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not .” He scratched the back of his head. You flip him off which made him chuckle.

You were fully clothed, shoes on, ready to exit the room. Jungkook was sporting his outfit too without the t-shirt and he totally resembled an exotic male dancer. You tore your eyes off his body before you started thinking things, turning around and reaching for the door handle.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hmm.”

“Your phone number?”

“Monday at Ms Diane’s after your shift,” you blurted out before leaving the room in a rush.

You kept your promise and stopped by at Diane’s Rink for a quick greeting and a recital of your phone number. You wanted to stay longer, and had you asked Jungkook if it was okay with him, he would have rolled past and around you with an affirming smirk. 

After that you turned your text notifications back on. What followed was three days of losing your composure at the slight sound of a bling coming from your phone. Maybe you had overestimated Jungkook’s forwardness. It wasn’t until you bumped into him and his friend at the university’s lunch space a couple of days later that you got to see him again. The two of you were in different departments so you rarely had class in the same buildings. 

You ate in silence, eyes focused on the word dense pages of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road”, so much the words jumbled together and you slammed the book shut, sighing into yet another bite of your bland chicken sandwich. You snuck another look at his table and he looked fine. You hadn’t expected him to look any different really but you thought maybe he had noticed you too. Sure you looked a lot less eye-catching than what you did at the party but one would be able to recognise someone they fucked not so long ago. Worse of it all, he had asked you and you were the one losing your mind over it. 

Appetite gone, you picked up your belongings and your small pile of trash, throwing the waste in the bin not far from his table. You had chosen to act on the hurt and growing anger inside of you, pulling out your phone to text him a petty, “Nice to see you too asshole 🖕”. 

You hadn’t even cared that you were blowing your cover, revealing that you were in fact already in possession of his number, further adding to your desperation. You stood back for a few moments but out of sight just to see his reaction. Jungkook had retrieved his phone from his pocket, taking a quick look at his screen before hastily lifting his head to look at the table where you had been sitting. So he saw…. 

You could have left unnoticed but you were already on your dramatic streak so you chose to storm out of the hall, passing by his apprehensive eyes. If only you had turned around just for a split second, enough to decipher the pleased expression on his face, you would have in fact known that Jungkook was quite happy to know that wanted it just as much as him. He considered that a needed affirmation for him to move forward, speeding past the green light.

It wasn’t long Jungkook grabbed hold of you after your “Literary and Cultural Theory” class.

“Hey! Slow down, I’m about to drop my books,” you had alarmed him shuffling hastily behind his combat boots and he couldn’t have shown you that he gave any less of a shit when he instead quickened his stride. 

It wasn’t long before you were dragged into the cramped confinement of his car. Books, bags and clothes in the front seats while an eager Jungkook and a confused you took refuge in the back seat. You shivered against the cool fabric of the seat as Jungkook’s chest warmed you up from above as he huffed and puffed beside your ear for every pointed thrust he landed deep within your gushing core. You had tried and failed at keeping your voice down. You stared out of the window attempting to calm your breathing by synchronising it with the lazy fall of browned tree leafs. 

You had accomplished a couple of firsts in that moment, First time having car sex (which wasn’t as hot as you thought it would be but Jungkook made up for it), and dabbling in slight exhibitionism behind Jungkook’s tinted back seat windows (which surprisingly left you more horny than expected). 

“Ready to get started with this darling?” He asked, sweating skin leaving yours as his softening cock left your entrance earning a gasp from your side of the car.

“A head’s up would have been nice.” Your hand searched the front seat for your panties.

“But isn’t that the fun part?” He snapped his condom shut. “Plus it’s not like I, or even you can control when you feel like doing it.”

You were ready to refute his reasoning but he made a point and you held your tongue. 

“Fine, but don’t abuse your fuck n’ go rights or I’ll get stingy. I don’t have your stamina Jeon.” You tore your head to the side after putting on your t-shirt to look at him, eyes demanding him to say he’ll behave.

“Okay, okay, sure I’ll try.”

That was the first big lie he had told you.

Since then, the thrill that came with getting regular dick in unexpected places never ceased and as you’re now watching Jungkook tear the rink apart with his calculated moves and pristine performance on shiny black roller skates, you know exactly how you would like your next appointment to be. 

Despite having been fuck buddies for over three months, the prospect of Jungkook roleplaying in his work uniform never had been a reality. You think it’s about time you change that. 

The air in the rink is fiery in spite of the cool winter air outside, people cram together at the edge of the rink to watch the contestants. After an unexpected turn of events, the annual “Disco Craze” roller skating contest had been short of one judge. Miss Diane hurried to find a replacement in the crowd. Of course you had jumped at the opportunity, after all you had arrived too late to the rink to get a good spot to watch the competition. Maybe it was your enthusiasm or your familiar face but to your delight you got picked.

This year’s contestants are far better than last year and both as a judge and a friend you’re fearing for Jungkook’s current winning streak. However, that’s a fear he doesn’t seem to share. Not with the way he glides smoothly to the beat of “I Don't Feel Like Dancin'” by Scissor Sisters. He soaks in the cheering crowd, spot rexing with a goofy smile on your face. 

This is probably the first time you really get to see Jungkook roller skate, you knew he was good, everyone had told you, just not that he was this good. 

His happiness while he scissors across the rink is contagious. He mouths the lyrics towards the crowd and unlike the song title, you see the soft sway of bodies moving to the beat. You’re left smiling before you know it, foot tapping along. He does a quick jump into a spin, before he speeds towards the judge’s table only to stop abruptly as he body rolls backwards. You shake your head, feeling more aware of the tactics Jungkook must have employed throughout the years to win. His number is over before you know it. 

There are a total of eleven contestants. But from what you’ve seen it’s between Jungkook and a girl who performed a great number to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”. During the intermission to allow the public to cast their vote, you shuffle away to buy some kit kats at the little snack shop beside the handoff counter for the roller skates. 

You finish one pack and buy a second which Jungkook snatches from your hands when he joins you. 

“Thank you,” he sticks out his tongue at you before ripping the red packaging and biting into your kit kat. 

“You’re gonna pay for that,” you sneer.

“Oooo I’m so scared.” He laughs a bit too loud, giving you a full view of his kit kat filled mouth. Sometimes you really want to hit him upside the head. “Sooo, what did you think?”

“About what?”

“My skating, duh! I’m pretty good, right?” He lifts an eyebrow cocking his head as he goes in for another aggressive bite of your kit kat.

“Meh, it was okay,” you say, walking away from the shop counter to sit by one of the benches near the rink. 

“Okay!?”

“Yeah, just okay Jeon, The girl, uhm, what’s her number?” You know her number. “You know, the one with the yellow skates, she could totally beat you.”

You’re partially trying to mess with him but you’re also being honest. Her performance really was that good. “Pfft, whatever. I know I have loyal fans.” He sits down besides you and leans against the wall. “Sure, you do,” you mumble.

With one bar of the kit kat left, he extends the package to you and says, “As long as you don’t vote for her I’ll forgive your hurtful words.”

You take it, because it’s a kit kat, you would never say no. “Bribing judges Jeon, huh? What other tricks apart from this and those body rolls do you have up your sleeve?” You munch on the bar.

“Tricks that will make you cry if you don’t vote for me darling,” he says loud enough for only you to hear. He brings his hand onto your thigh, running upwards close enough to where he could cup your cunt with his big palm making your breath hitch, but he just squeezes your thigh and lifts himself off the bench to return to the rink. You swallow the leftover chunks of kit kat in your mouth before you end up choking, throw the package in the bin and walk away, trying to act as unbothered as Jungkook.

Miss Diane’s voice booms through the speaker letting everyone know that the intermission is over and the votes have been counted. Having judges at this contest is more so for an official feel, for the most part the judges never needed to vote. The results from the public’s vote were usually quite decisive, even if a judge’s vote equalled ten times the single vote a person from the public got. 

As it looks now, it is 84-64 to the girl with yellow skates. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so unhappy, not even after he had lost points for a minor mistake when calculating his error on an experiment for a chemistry paper. He looks at you once he feels your gaze, his eyes reinforcing the little chat you had earlier. 

It’s time for the judges to cast their vote. Mr. Ludwig, the owner of a café just a few blocks away, votes, to your surprise, for Jungkook. And as expected so does Miss Diane. It’s a tie.

Ten decisive points. 

Your points to give. 

Jungkook is staring at you, she isn’t. Jungkook likes to take your things from you, she doesn’t even know you. Jungkook threatens you, she has never even talked to you. But most importantly Jungkook is good at skating, he did really well but Miss “Yellow Skates” was better.

Mind set on who you’re voting for. Your arm lifts up her number. Number seven. 

Jungkook lowers his heads, chuckling lightly into his chest before he looks up and congratulates the winner, clapping along with the crowd. He skates off the rink to let her perform her winning number once again. You’re still seated by the judge’s table before thumping steps grow louder coming towards you. Just like the time he pulled you away for your first quickie in his car, he yanks you off the seat, gently enough not to bring about anyone’s attention but strong enough for you to feel the nature of your current predicament. 

“You’re so fucked,” he growls pushing in the direction of the staff room. 

“I know,” you can’t help but giggle. Ultimately this was the perfect opportunity. You fulfil your fantasy of fucking him in his embellished uniform and you also get to make sure someone who’s better than him wins. Two birds, one stone. You don’t think you’ve ever been this effective. 

Jungkook slams the door to the room shut, but doesn’t lock it. He drags you towards the door of the bathroom stalls. “Ehh, you sure about that Jeon?”

He pushes you along from behind, hand on your back, “Don’t worry, it’s clean,” he says softly before closing the door to the small stall to whisper into shoulder, “Unlike what you’re gonna be when I’m done with you.”

Jungkook’s naked arms wrap around your torso, hands landing on your hardened nipples over the fabric of your turtleneck as his mouth nips at the back of your neck. “I warned you darling.” You moan, ass rubbing against his groin enough to elicit a groan. “I won’t stop until you’re crying.” He wraps a hand around neck, right hand smoothly undoing your jeans as his hand dances on top of your skin, down your needy core and past your wet lips.

He does this as many times as he pleases. This isn’t about you. It’s about him using you. He follows the sway of your hips giving into your chase for his fingers, dipping into your heat, slowly. He starts with a finger, swirling it around, humming at the satisfying feel of you being so wet and ready for him. He squeezes your throat in approval. When he feels you clench at that he goes on to add a second finger. “Ugh, Jeon faster, please.”

Does he like how politely you’re being? Yes. But you know what else would have been polite? You voting for him. “Oh no, I don’t think so darling.” He adds a third finger and your back stutters against his broad chest, head thrown back against his shoulder. “You like that?” You nod your head, lips caught in between your teeth to repress your moans. “Then let me hear you darling.” You bite down harder on your lips. 

Now with three fingers deep in you, stretching your cunt as your juices slide down his digits he picks up his speed. He keeps his strokes irregular, he never wants you to know what's coming. In and out unlike your breaths. You have resorted to shallow breathing, head turning for you to bury your nose into Jungkook’s veiny neck, as he makes a mockery out of you. He gives you a momentary break, stuffing his mouth with his fingers, “Oh yeah, desperation is a good taste on you.” He hums reaching his fingers towards your mouth which you open to taste yourself, whining at the back of your throat. “My darling is such a good girl,” he says biting your earlobe. 

The hand that was on your throat, moves to roll your jeans past your thighs and past your knees. 

“Do you even have a condom?” You croak as a chill runs down your leg from the cold air. 

“What kind of question is that? When is that I’m never prepared?” He says, foot coming between yours to spread your legs. “I had planned for a sweet and gentle celebratory fuck after the competition, but you’re you and now we’re here.” You purr through your shivers when he runs his hands on the inside of your thighs, grazing your pussy before the pads of his fingers knead your ass. 

Frankly you’re a bit glad to have escaped his initial plan. Having sweet sex with Jungkook was never your forté, while he could switch easily between his rough and gentle personas, you were never able to act normal when faced with the dulcet tones of his praises and the soothing touches of his body against yours. With a clenched and curved back, feet planted against the mattress for leverage, he would ram slowly but firmly, head secured in the depth of your collarbones as his cock reached the depth of you, making you quaver beneath him. On occasions like that, you never stuck around for too long after you were done. Jungkook had a habit of asking if you had enjoyed the act as if he wasn’t the one on top of you appeasing your frantic high and kissing throaty moans away.

No, you preferred this, when he grabs your roughly by your rear, landing a few spanks that have your arms reaching for the walls of the stall to steady yourself as he grunts at how much wetter you’re becoming. Or at least you could deal with it better. 

“Bend over for me darling.” 

You bend over instantly when Jungkook’s arms leave your upper body, hands landing on the lid of the toilet to catch yourself. You had found yourself in this position before, and you had cried the most in all of those moments. But you had never been standing. Not to predict the future, but you’re sure Jungkook will have to carry you into an orgasm, unless he wants you to kneel on all four on the floor. 

Jungkook runs his drenched index down your spine, hand lifting back for another spank. “Ah!” And another to reprimand your scream, “Keep your voice down, unless you want us to be found out,” he smirks behind you, hand cupping your heat only to dip a finger into you without warning.

“Ohhh, shit,” you slur, fingers raking the surface of the lid. Jungkook shows no sign of being gentle, fingers abusing your pussy, driving in and out of you at an alarming speed. 

When his digits curl inside of you right before a slow exit you clamp your hand around your mouth for fear of being too loud. Despite that, your soft cries are still audible to him making him smile before he resumes his explosive fingering. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this sound,” He says, bringing his other hand under your stomach to probe your swollen and neglected clit. 

While the hastened pace of his fingers continue within you making you clench around the protrusion, Jungkook adopts a mellow pace to his massaging of your clit. The dual attack leaves you conflicted, unsure which way to rock your hips. “Arghhh,” you bite in your upper arm, clenching again around his digits. “Aww, my darling wants to come,” he coos. You rock your hips back in response. 

“Oh, but then you should have voted for me, don’t you think?” You almost cry at the loss of contact, when your cunt is left empty and gapping. 

You see him take a small step back to lean against the door of the stall. You exhale, still bend over, legs buckling when your thighs meet in a futile effort to relieve some tension. “You good there?” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but you find this far from funny. 

“Jeon, please,” you say in a low, weak voice.

Ever since the first time he fucked you, Jungkook has always enjoyed toying with you, both outside and inside the bedroom. Whether it was borrowing (re: stealing) your favourite pens or taking a bite and in worse case scenario a whole portion of whatever it’s you’re eating. But nothing had ever topped this. Having you desperate to reach your orgasm and yet denying you that pleasure was a big favourite of his. He’s sure he could easily get himself off right now, ripping his condom off at the right moment just for him to decorate the smooth roundness of your ass with warm white stripes.

“Jeon.” He might have chosen to make you come had you called him Jungkook instead. But you’re you and he’s enjoying himself so he stays put.

“For old times sake, I think you should use me if you want to come so bad,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Really, Jeon?” 

“As real as you not voting for me, yes.” You shake your head. Jungkook’s competitive streak usually worked to your advantage. You enjoyed telling him how you doubt he could do something just to have him do it to you. It was just like asking, without the actual asking. You might have been able to pull something similar for his fingering skills but you’re both well aware of how many times the pounding from his rough digits has made you come.

Your hands push against the lid of the toilet, your frame wobbles a bit once you’re standing up straight and you can hear Jungkook’s giggly response. You turn around, slowly, to face his slightly red face and the very prominent bulge in his pants. He follows your eyes.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says readjusting his pants but only making the matter worse, “I can wait.” 

You lift your head, step closer to him so you can catch a hold of the wrist below his wet hand. “Three,” you say, eyes travelling down his face to his parted lips. Adjusting your stance, you guide his three flexed out digits towards your dripping entrance. “Kiss me.”

While he likes toying with you, Jungkook is rather obedient especially when it advantages him. So he drops his head, hair tickling your nose, before his lips settle on yours. In that moment, you drive his fingers past your drenched nether lips as you moan into his kiss. 

You’re convinced Jungkook’s dick is feeling a bit uncared for despite his reassurance. Doing your best to fuck yourself on his fingers, your hand gets occupied with palming his hard member. You’re totally only focusing on pleasuring yourself so much he cups the hand you have his cock and reinforces your grip and kneading. He hums into your kiss, satisfied and probably leaking in his boxers. 

You suddenly let go of his reddened lips when he spreads his digits inside of you, the pads of his fingers grazing your walls, making you whine into his neck. You slow down your pace, feeling how close you are, “Jun– oh fuck, yeah right there.” His pace quickens once he registers the tremors in your legs. Fingers plunging deeper into your leaking pussy. Both hands free, you engulf Jungkook’s stature, holding on as his other hand grabs a strong hold of your cheeks to plant a harsh kiss on your lips.

He spreads his fingers and jams them in and out of you, He whispers for you to come on him, to let him hear you exhale choked breaths for him to remember tonight when he’s jerking off to the thought of you. You do just that.

Your chest heaves, fingernails digging into his back, face hiding from Jungkook’s protruding eyes as the tension in your core ruptures and your legs go slack. “Oh god, fuck me.” 

“All in due time darling,” he answers back, hand running down your back.

“I meant to say fuck you, Jeon.” You manage to croak out once you’re sure you’ve reached the complete end of your orgasm.

Your hands loosen around his back and you step back, head turning down to stare at the slick on your inner thighs. “Surprised?” He inquires.

“No. Not exactly,” your head lift, “you’ve have probably ruined sex for me with other people for a while.”

Jungkook might have taken your statement as a compliment dick twitching in response, but you were in all honesty a bit horrified at the thought. How long is a while? This can’t last forever, can it ?

“Let’s take care of that since I’m feeling apologetic.” You point at his bulge. Your hands wrap around the neon green belt on his pants undoing it and slowly releasing his strained cock. It still looked as deliciously curved, bloodshot and veiny against his stomach as the last time you saw it, which was a mere two days ago at his dorm. 

You’re about to lower yourself onto unstable knees, “Uh-uh, some other time,” he says turning you around and bending you over again. What can he say? He really enjoyed the view of your ass, “Right now, I want to feel your pussy around me.”

When Jungkook hastily eases the throbbing length into your wet core without warning, you deduce that he’s still a bit angered about your vote. Anger that seems to dissipate once he’s fully rooted in you. “Oh this is the best  feeling in the world,” he moans from above you.

He isn’t looking for a sweet fuck today and directly resorts to slamming into you, making your hands slide against the lid off the toilet. You moan, tossing your head back when the hands on your ass knead the flesh and spread your cheeks for him to continue his eager ramming. When you’re already clenching, pulling jagged groans from Jungkook’s throat, you know you won’t last long.

“Hey, careful there,” he coos at you, lifting you up to place your hands on the tank of the toilet. “Wouldn’t want you to hit your head. That’s not how I want to make you cry.” He slows down his strokes enough to allow you to steady your grip on the tank and then resumes sinking down into you at his rushed speed.

The force with which he pistons into you is enough to have your legs hitting against the edge of the seat, as your fingers fumble to keep you stable accidentally flushing the toilet once in a while. Jungkook fucks and spanks you to his heart’s desire. “Look how good you’re to me,” he praises, hand pinching your nipple before constricting the movement of your breath. “Jungko–” He rams into you. He loves taking your breath away mid-moan. “Fuck, why are you so big?” You mewl, eyes watering as he repeatedly removes himself from your depths only to slam back in.

Jungkook feels your pussy clench around him, slowly milking him dry, getting him closer to his own orgasm. So he reaches down, arms wrapping around your torso, hands on your mounds as he pulls your back against his chest. “Can you spread your legs a little for me darling?” He asks softly and you comply. Whatever he chooses to ask right now you’re sure you will comply. You moan when you feel him deeper.

“You like the way my cock feels in you?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “You fill me up so good.”

Jungkook can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented my dick this much.” He bites your shoulder, hips bucking harsly against yours, “My darling is that desperate?” You shake your head against his shoulder, biting into your bottom lip.

You might be chasing your own orgasm, but despite that you’re being truthful. Jungkook has the best dick you’ve ever ridden. He knows the places that make you lose it, and he can reach them. He takes care of you even when he’s toying with you. You’ve never been left unsatisfied or hurt. Honestly, he’s a great fuck buddy. Also he’s just Jungkook.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“You.”

It slips out of you and you can’t take it back, not when you’re sure he heard it so clearly. Jungkook stills at the sound of your confession and you finally get to take a deep breath. 

Your eyes might be screwed shut but you’re certain of the look on Jungkook’s eyes as he peers down at your head thrown back above his shoulder. It’s the same look he has been giving you more and more often lately. A look you had been trying to avoid. It didn’t feel like he was just looking at you, but inside you. Or more so looking for something inside of you.

You manage a couple of breaths before Jungkook proceeds his strokes with an even greater ferocity than before. “Ah–a–ah,” you choke out as your hands cup his hands that are firmly planted around your breasts. The sound of Jungkook’s hips slapping against your ass fills the confined stall and you release a cry each time he gains leverage leaving your walls battered and full. 

He doesn’t stop. He keeps going murmuring the occasional “Mine” into the air with furrowed eyebrows as you clench harder around him. His throbbing member slides into you, fully sheathed within your warmth. Once, twice, thrice. Enough times to make you dizzy and lose count. And with each slap of ass against hips you offer a guttural moan, eyes tearing up, legs trembling. 

“Jeo– I’m cl–oh fuck, so close.”

Jungkook's warm finger caresses your pussy. “ I know darling.” His palm kneads into your clit, the overwhelming stimulation makes you choke down a sob. “Just let go, I’m here,” he whispers, nose buried against your cheek.

A few more calculated strokes from Jungkook’s hips has him buried deep in your seeping cunt, sloppy thumps surrounding your combined moans and groans. Maybe it’s the way Jungkook’s left hand caresses the breast over your heart, or the cushioned kisses he places against your jaw or the way he lets himself go right before you come. Or maybe it’s all of those things that make you cream on his cock, juices gushing down your thighs and onto him as he kisses you deeply, tongue wrapping around yours to catch your moans, teeth pulling on your lips the same way you pull at his heartstrings. Only when you’re gasping for air does his lips let go of yours.

“You good?”

“Yeah, all good” you sigh.

“Come on, look at me?” 

You do your best to remove any trace of tear streaks as fast as possible, removing your face from the crook of his neck. 

Jungkook still sees, “I am that good, huh?”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. 

“You’re such a cry baby,” he teases and you can’t refute, he gives your cheek a peck, “and I kinda love it.”

You’re really not a cry baby. Jungkook’s stroke game is just that good. No matter how diluted your conscience is you could never deny his claim. The state in which you’re left is proof enough. 

Jungkook slips out of you, soft cock against sensitive walls. He uses what’s at his disposal and rips off some toilet paper to clean the combined result of your yearning between your legs. It takes a couple of toilet strips to get the job done.

“Thanks,” you mumble when he’s done, flushing the used paper.

“No problem, darling.” He lifts your pants back up, reaching for your discarded top as well. “I can be the caring type you know.”

With a scoff leaving your chest you pluck your t-shirt off of his hands, “No need to convince me, Jeon.”

You really didn’t need convincing. Jeon Jungkook is a reasonable guy. He is a friend you can count on, ambitious when it comes to his studies, smart enough to do double majors (if he had made the choice), good-looking even in the most unflattering circumstances, a champ in bed and sometimes too sweet for his and your own good. 

You had gotten to know all these sides of him with time, some of which came to your knowledge involuntarily, like how he always has a packet of kit kats stashed away for you for whenever you come over to hang and occasionally study before you fuck. The same way you had found yourself reaching for a softer scented detergent after you found out from one of his roommates that he isn’t fond of strong fragrances. 

You had both picked up clues about each other, whether it was voluntary or involuntary. 

And, yes maybe he’s more than reasonable, he’s quite great actually. But Kyra thinks you deserve greater. You don’t know how much you agree with her. But you do acknowledge the fact that Jungkook has been the only one you’ve done whatever this is with. You don’t have much to compare him to, except for the occasional rendezvous you would have back home with men you met on tinder. Maybe you need to explore some more? 

“Ah, I think I still need to convince you some more,” he says to your back after ruffling back into his pants. 

You turn around to face that look you dread. “Whatever floats your boat.” You rush to open the stall’s door, hurried breath brushing against Jungkook’s neck as you storm out towards the sink. You wash your hands to keep yourself from looking at him where he stands against the door frame, styled hair grazing his still flushed cheeks.

Jungkook joins you to wash his own hands. You dry yourself, letting the hot air from the hand dryer drown out the silence. With one final look at the mirror you attempt to look presentable and composed. Jungkook flicks water at you. You throw him a warning look. He does it again.

“Jeon, stop it.” You take a paper towel to dab yourself dry. He does it again.

You exhale a slow breath, ”It’s really not funny and it’s a waste of water.” 

But in true Jungkook fashion he gives it another go. “Jungkook!” You shriek making him crack a scrunched up smile.

He keeps at it until you crack a smile of your own in defeat. “See, eventually you always come around,” he says and you’re confused. He has been throwing a lot of these weird statements at you lately. 

“Okay…. but for now I’m gonna leave before you start annoying me again.”

You walk towards the door, a cool hand touching the cool handle. “You know you can be in my boat too right?” Your step staggers. “It won���t sink or anything, we could both float in it.”

You chuckle, “Be patient Jeon”. Maybe Kyra isn’t right for once. You close your eyes into a stabilizing breath. “I planned on crying some more so I can be sure it will keep floating even with me on it,” you say to the door before walking out.

Jungkook might have lost the competition, but he won something far better. Your reassurance.

It’s with a triumphant smile and a bounce to his step that Jungkook exits the staff room and heads back to skate with part of the public that’s now in the rink. His eyes search for your whereabouts only to land on your hand closing around another kit kat. You’re always consistent with the things and people you like he thinks with a smirk on his face.

“That’s my cry baby.”

thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!

all rights reserved namgee

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader Rating: T for teen for mild language. Later entries in the series will be more mature though, just a heads up Warnings: None this chapter. There will probably be canon typical violence/blood mentioned or referenced in future chapters though, cuz, ya know, vampire ladies? Notes: No beta reader, we die like Ethan Winters’ hands (repeatedly, and with odd frequency)

Chapter 1: Nocturne

     Of all the tasks assigned to you, none were as bittersweet as that of dusting Lady Dimitrescu’s piano. Years ago, before you had been shuffled off to a remote European village, before you had been roughly snatched from your home, before… this, you had been taught to play music. From a young age it brought you comfort, entertained you on quiet days, and even made you your fair share of friends. Though you had experimented with a handful of instruments, none felt more natural than piano. Leaving your family’s heirloom piano behind was one of the hardest things you had ever had to do. 

     Until you arrived at Castle Dimitrescu, at least. Sweat often dropped off your brow as you spent endless hours scrubbing floors, carrying baskets of clothes or mysterious parcels of meat up and down flights of stairs, rushing to and fro rooms across the estate. Physical labor was no stranger to you, but no employer had ever been as demanding as those you now served. Hence part of why you always breathed a sigh of relief when you were chosen to dust the piano. It was hardly a demanding task, even when you had to take care not to accidentally let the keys make any noise. No one was allowed to play it without permission (and that was never given).

     Which brought you an aching sensation at the core of your chest, balled up alongside past regrets, a hundred million thoughts of alternative realities where you didn’t hurt so much. There was no point in imagining what choices might have saved you from your fate… and yet you did so anyway. Sometimes you thought about barricading yourself in the room, just so you could play a couple songs, even if it would guarantee you a painful death. But you could never bring yourself to willingly disobey Lady Dimitrescu; not when you had heard the wails and screams of Maidens a few floors below.

     Yes, you would never willingly, knowingly do such. That wasn’t to say you were incapable of mistakes. No, you weren’t that fortunate. It was such a simple error, really, just a misjudgment of the cloth held between your fingers. Your hand slipped. That was all. But that slip led to an accidental press of a key- f#, if you heard right- that sounded throughout the room with damning clarity. Just like that, you felt the pitiful thing you called life shatter to pieces on the floor. Inside your chest your heart started to pound, a metronome speeding this performance along to its end.

     Had you not been paralyzed with dread, you might have accepted your fate with enough grace to sit down, play those last few tunes like you had daydreamed about so many times. But you didn’t, couldn’t. All you felt you could do was strain your ears and listen for the impending sounds of angry footsteps.

     Instead your concentration was interrupted by a door flying open, hitting the wall with a slam you knew would leave a dent, as a swarm of insects burst in. Nearly jumping out of your skin you put a hand to your chest, half expecting not to feel a heartbeat anymore. The rhythm was off, for sure, and it skipped a beat when the swarm surged together to form a somewhat familiar figure: Daniela Dimitrescu. Leaning against the piano, one hand bracing against it, the woman pretended to examine her sickle, idly twisting it back and forth in her hand. When she spoke, she didn’t even bother to glance in your direction.

     “I never understood why mother dedicated a whole room to this,” she muses, casually inclining her head towards the piano. “It’s not like any of our instructors lasted very long. Why not let this gather dust with the rest of the useless junk somewhere upstairs?” There’s a pause, and for a moment you mentally debate whether or not you’re supposed to respond. Apparently not, as Daniela soon turns to you and speaks more directly, which is grand, really, as your tongue felt as if it was glued to the roof of your mouth. “Maybe she knew someday someone would come along to serenade us. And you clearly know how to play, otherwise you wouldn’t have dared to make a sound.”

     Stepping forward, she extends a gloved hand, cupping your chin so gently that you almost couldn’t feel her touch. Her gaze, however, was dangerously intense, unblinking, and filled with far less joy than her grin would suggest. The touch lasts only a few seconds. Just long enough to leave you shaking with anticipation. Daniela’s toothy smile only widens as she backs up, keeping her eyes on you even as she reclines into a chair in the corner of the room. You almost wished she would just get it over with and kill you. Whatever she had in mind would be worse in the end, yes? 

     “Well? Aren’t you going to play for me? Show me how much you love me? I don’t have all night,” Daniela says expectantly. She’s relaxed fully, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, spine pressed up against the back of the chair, but she hasn’t set her sickle down. There’s a clear threat in the way she holds it, grip tight enough to let you know that she’s still ready (and itching) to use it.

     You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be acting differently if she knew that you did, in fact, know how to play. Was this just a teasing start to your punishment? Or was there a part of her genuinely interested in hearing music? Obviously you hoped for the latter. Hell, you practically prayed for it as you slowly pulled out the piano bench, awkwardly sat down, and urged your body to remember a song. What genre would a vampire from the 1950’s even enjoy? All you knew were bits and pieces of a few classics, a couple chord progressions from early 2000’s hits, and a handful of songs you had written yourself.

     There wasn’t much time to ponder, not with Daniela’s gaze burning a whole in the side of your head. So you simply pressed your fingers to the keys, took a deep breath, and let muscle memory take over. Your eyes became half lidded as you started to play, hardly paying attention to what you were doing. It felt like a single glance at your captor would result in the worst case of stage fright known to mankind. Instead you focused on the piano’s wooden frame, and the many grain marks twisting within.

     All the while your fingers glided over the keys, delicately pressing here and there, starting with something simple. Little more than a chord on your left hand, followed with a few short notes on your right, repeating in different places up and down the scale. It was almost a test, a gentle showing to see what Daniela would do. You still refused to look at her, even when you heard what sounded like a bored sigh. A knot tied itself in your stomach, and you gulped, before you shifted mental gears. Evidently “soft and simple” wasn’t going to cut it. Hopefully you could please one Lady without earning the ire of any of the others.

     So you paused, letting the notes suspend in the air for a moment, and came back swinging. The kiddy gloves were off, abandoned on the floor with your sense of caution. Grander things came back to mind as your fingers danced atop the keys, stretching chords and melodies alongside each other, the best of what you recalled pouring out of you without a sign of stopping. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Daniela sit up, paying more attention then she had at the start. Confidence found itself growing at the center of your chest, and it managed to turn your lips up into a smile. How long had it been since you had been able to perform like this? Years? A decade, even? You didn’t know. It didn’t matter.

     Minutes passed by like this, with your hands moving constantly, even as your gaze never shifted. It was heaven channeled on Earth. Whatever was to come after, death or dismemberment, you couldn’t care less. Let them take your blood, your life. They could never take this music from your mind, from your memories, or the joy it inspired in you. If you were to die soon, at least you had been given one last soliloquy.

     Eventually the song had to end. It was a bitter moment, one you dreaded for its followup, but otherwise would have found pride in. After all, you were evidently the first maiden to give a performance (at least of this variety) to one of the Dimitrescu sisters! Certainly that was an accomplishment? Maybe your brain would let you celebrate later… assuming you survived. Daniela had stayed quiet since her earlier sigh, letting you play on without interruption thus far. Now that the song was over you didn’t know what to expect. Knowing Daniela, or at least knowing the rumors surrounding you, it was hard to imagine that anything you could expect would be accurate.

     “How long have you been hiding this little talent of yours?” She coos, clapping her hands together with a short giggle. So far so good, you thought, clinging desperately to hope. Once more she rose to her feet, moving so smoothly she might as well have been gliding, and ended up by your side. This time her hand rested on your shoulder, putting enough pressure to keep you from moving. “Don’t tell me you’re shy, that would simply be too… precious.” With that said her hand trails along your shoulder, across your collarbone, up your neck, then rests for a moment on your cheek. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, which only encourages Daniela, and she tucks a strand of your hair behind her ear.

     Before she can say more, or you could even attempt to form words, there’s the faint sound of someone yelling in the distance. A name, you think, although it’s not loud enough for you to make out who’s being called. The answer becomes evident soon enough, however, as Daniela pulls back from you suddenly, smile trading out for a scowl. Some part of you instantly misses her touch, leaving the rest of you confused more than anything.

     “Get back to your work, then,” Daniela says, roughly, the playfulness in her voice now entirely absent. It was such a sudden change in demeanor that you didn’t know how to react. Thankfully her eyes were no longer on you, and she was already moving towards the door. Had you really managed to play your way out of a punishment? You knew for a fact that at least one other maiden had lost her life for making the same mistake you did, yet now Daniela looks ready to leave without so much as a slap on the wrist. But she does pause in the doorway, as if reading your thoughts, and throws you a look over her shoulder. Her eyes narrow for a split second before she gives you one last wicked grin. “Don’t worry, sweet thing, I won’t forget you anytime soon.”

     Just like that she was gone, into a cloud of insects, out the door and into the corridor beyond. The tension in the room had left, you could finally breathe easy… and yet still your mind was racing. Those words she had left you with- were they a threat? Or a promise of something softer? Only time would tell.

[bumbleklee]

for the 1k prompt event 2 + Diluc please!

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | discord server

★ content warning: mentions of self harm + scars, cut for possible trigger

prompt 2: "If I could, I would kiss away all your scars.”

Falling into old habits was your current regret, especially now that you were in an relationship with Diluc. You could only imagine the confusion and hurt he had been feeling about your lack of intimacy the past few weeks. But you would be damned if you let Diluc see what you were doing to yourself.

When Diluc left to take a shift at the tavern one night, you finally acted on your urge. The thoughts been pestering and itching your brain all day and you could hardly wait to be alone. Hopefully your mind would be satisfied for a couple days.

So when Diluc ran into your bedroom, mumbling something about forgetting his jacket, and immediately froze at the sight of you, you felt totally lost.

Your first thought was to get away. You threw your blade somewhere and ripped down your sleeves, launching yourself off the bed. You had almost made it through the doorway when Diluc grabbed your arm rather harshly and pulled you back inside.

He had never been good with his words and his reaction now proved that further. Diluc was panicked, his voice coming out in a yell with breaks every now and then. You were too distracted to hear to his words properly.

Blood started to bead on your wounds and drip down your arm so you pressed your hand into your sleeve to try and stop it.

"Are you even listening to me?" Diluc cried out. His eyes were wide and filled with an emotion you couldn't pinpoint. You stared at the ground, shaking your head.

You weren't surprised Diluc was yelling at you. He had every right to be mad at you. You were mad at you.

He wanted an explanation and you couldn't give him a proper one. You mumbled too many 'I don't know's' and not enough truth. Your reasoning for hurting yourself was selfish and you were, frankly, embarrassed to say it aloud.

If you hurt yourself, then you couldn't hurt anyone else.

Thinking about the statement, you eyes filled with tears. How foolish you were to think that was a valid reason to hurt yourself like you were. The more you hurt yourself, the more you hurt other people, the more you hurt Diluc.

"Y/N!" Diluc shook your shoulders and finally gained your attention. He noticed your watery eyes and instantly his expression softened. Diluc led you to the bed and sat you down. "Stay, please," He begged, gathering things from the bathroom cabinet.

For a while, you stared at your lap and cried. This was humiliating in your eyes. You weren't ready for Diluc to know, especially not like this. Diluc came back into the main room holding gauze and a wet washcloth. He sat down beside you and pushed back your sleeve without a single word.

He froze, taking in the new wounds between your healing scars. His finger ran along the ridges and you were too upset to pull your arm away. "How long?" He asked gently.

You hesitated to answer before wiping your eyes with your free hand, "Throughout my teens and then four weeks from today."

You saw Diluc clench his jaw from the corner of your eye. Your scars from years ago were faint and easy to disguise as battle marks but as Diluc put two and two together, he realized everything. His hands were shaking as he wiped the washcloth along your arm, flipping it over halfway.

Eventually you stopped crying. Your eyes felt puffy and burnt out and you were left with an overwhelming feeling of dread. Diluc bandaged your arm and disappeared to dispose of the supplies before returning to your side.

"I'm sorry."

Your words came out in a whisper and Diluc's hand found yours. "It's okay," He whispered back. He knew that it wasn't okay, you knew that it wasn't okay, but that didn't need to be brought up now.

You took a deep breath. "I can leave if you want me too," You suddenly said. "Go somewhere else if this is too much."

Diluc tensed up. You couldn't seriously think he wanted you to leave? Did you want to leave? Diluc squeezed your hand, "Don't go anywhere."

You nodded and finally leaned into Diluc's touch. You realized his hands were trembling. "I'm sorry," You said again.

Instead of replying, Diluc lifted your bandaged arm to your mouth and pressed his lips against your wrist. His voice was shaky and breathless as he pulled away, "If I could, I would kiss away all your scars.”

[abandoned-ax]

Im on the team pt - 4

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

Haikyuu x ftm reader

Summery: 1st day of the training camp

When we came back for the longer training camp I was much more relaxed. Last time it was only one night but just a few weeks later and were back. Everyone’s been starting to try new things, I think last training camp had everyone realizing we don’t match up at all. Iv been working with Noya a bit more on receiving and everything a libero does as well as working with Tanaka on spiking. But the most interesting thing Iv been doing is helping Kagayama out, he’s working on a new kind of set and asked me if I would throw for him one day after practice, I was hanging back a bit myself just not wanting to leave the gym and so I decided to help him out. I’m seeing a new side to him I didn’t know, I’m used to seeing him as the perfect setter like he could do anything, but seeing him struggling and frustrated is new. The day before we left for training camp we were practicing his set and he got angrier then I had ever seen him, he threw the ball and shouted.

“Ahhhhhh! Why can’t I get it!”

I’m immediately on the ground trying to figure out what to do to help calm him down, but the only thing I can think of that he likes is volleyball. Sooo

“Kageyama!” He pauses to look at me, “umm I was wondering if you wanted to take a break from your set and maybe help me with mine instead.” I guess that got him to pause since he was now just looking at me, “is just Iv been wanting to work on it for a while now but it’s just, your so good at it and I just wanted to ask for some pointers, and it just seems like you could use a break so.” His breathing has started to even out a bit more, he looks a bit caught off guard.

“Ughh yeah I can do that.” So for the next half hour we worked ok my set, I made sure to praise and complement him on his set to make sure he knew how talented he was, I’m sure working so hard on a set and not being able to get it is really frustrating. After a while we were both tired so we moved to sit down drinking our water in silence.

“Thank you for helping me out, and you know for calming me down.” His voice got quieter as the sentence went on but I understood what he was getting at.

“It’s all good kageyama. I bet it’s frustrating.” He looks over at me and we make eye contact, it’s nice.

“Iv always been able to get it, and I just haven’t had to do something new like that in a while.”

“I know it’s frustrating, and I know I don’t know a lot about volleyball but even I know your one of the most talented players, you’ll get it, it’s just going to take a bit of time.”

“Thanks (Y/N)”

I smile over at him happy I could help in anyway, he pulls out his phone to check the time, “holy shit it’s late.” I look over at his phone and realize it’s 12:30 already!

“Oh wow.” Kagayama looks over at me and we start laughing, both realizing how wild it is that we stayed here for that long, “oh my god our buss to head to training camp is going to be here is like 4 hours!” Kagayama starts laughing louder.

“Holy shut we should head home huh?!” Both of us calm down our giggles before moving to walk home, we walk mostly together till we half to part ways, “well I’ll see you in a few hours Kags.”

He smiles at me a little “yeah I’ll see you in a few hours.” And with that we split ways.

It’s before the sun comes up that we have to be at the busses so naturally everyone is very tired. I meet Tsuki and Yams there but once Kagayama shows up I move over to him, he’s looking through his bag and so I ask “making sure you packed everything?” He look up startled but his gaze softens when he sees it’s me, “yeah after how late we got home last night I didn’t really have time to pack properly.” I giggle at him, “lucky I pack like a week in advance.” He chuckles “maybe I should start doing that to huh.” Coach gives a little speech and tells us all to get on the bus, I was originally planning on sitting wish Tsuki and Yams but they ended up sitting together and Kags asked if I wanted to sit with him so that’s what I did. Not long into the drive I ended up falling asleep with my head on Kagayamas shoulder, and he fell asleep with his on my head. But we were rudely awoken by Daichi “come on idiots were here.” I know I have a massive blush in my face so I get up and move to get off the bus quickly, I hear Daichi chuckle at us but ignore it and move quickly, one off the bus I move to find Tsuki and Yams, “so I see you’ve become friends with the king?” Tsuki says skeptically, “oh shut it Tsuki.” Yams laughs at us as we see Nekoma come out to greet us.

I walk over to where Kenma is talking to Hinata excited to see him again since we talked a bit at the last training camp and he seems super cool, “hey Kenma!” He looks away from Hinata and smiles at me “hey (Y/N), I was just talking to Hinata about the camp.”

“Oh yeah! It’s in a different place, do you know why?” Kenma chuckles at that question “yeah it’s a bigger space and a bit cooler here, but there’s a lot of bugs.”

“Fuck I should have brought bug spray.”

“It’s ok you can use mine if you wanna,” he says smiling a bit.

“Are you sure that would be ok?”

“Yeah I don’t mind!”

“Thanks Kennma.” I smile at him but the moment is cut short by a super tall guy yelling over at Hinata “hey did you grow taller yet?!” The two start bickering and I give Kenma a surprised look,

“that’s Lev, he’s the new kid for us.”

I giggle at the distressed look he gets looking over at the tall kid.

“I’m guessing he’s...a lot.”

“How’d you know?”

“I mean he did interrupt our conversation by yelling at Hinata about his height.” Kenma laughs at that.

“So (Y/N) you play any video games?” Me and Kenma talked the entire walk to Karasanos room, finding we have quite a bit in common, from our love of the same video games to our inability to sleep most nights. He’s nice to talk to, his calm and quiet tone is relaxing to listen to and his more subtle demeanor is cute.

We all put our bags in the room and got ready for our first game today. I didn’t play in the first few, but after a couple they switched me into the libero spot for a while and then I played middle blocker. We aren’t doing too good tho, haven’t won a single game, and after the 8th time doing the run for the loosing team I think I’m gunna die. When the end of the day came around we all collapsed after our last run.

“Ughhh I don’t think I can breath” I hear tanaka yell.

“We lost every game, how’d we lose every game.” Suga asked

We looked into the gym to watch the one game that’s still going, we are nowhere near that level. Daichi sits up and says he’s going to work on the synchronized attack, so everyone started to scatter.

I look over and see Tsuki walking away from the gym most of our team was using and Yams yells over at him “you aren’t going to practice Tsuki?” Tsuki turns around “no, we practice enough already.” And starts walking away, I knew Yams was probably itching to go practice his serve so I tell him, “go, I’ll follow the giraffe.” He smiles gratefully at me and I starts chasing after the blond boy.

“Tsuki wait up!” He doesn’t turn around so I start running faster till I catch up with him. “ughhh why are your legs so long!”

“There not that long yours are just short.”

We pause for a moment, it’s awkward. Me and Tsuki have never had an awkward moment, I don’t like it.

“Aren’t you going to practice?”

“No, we do that enough, everyday for hours we practice, I’m done for the night.”

I’m so lost on what to do at this point, I want him to come practice but I can’t force him too,

“Hey glasses kid,” I hear a voice say and turn around Tsuki stopping in his place, “oh and (Y/N)” it’s Kuroo from Nekoma.

“You guys wanna come practice with us? We could use another blocker!” I look over to Tsuki hopefully, maybe this will be the opportunity to get him motivated. Tsuki looks up and with the fakest smile on his face he says “sorry, I’m all done for the night.”

Kuroo and one of the other guys I think from Fukurodani are both appalled by his response,

“You know he may not look it but he’s one of the top 5 aces is Japan.”

The owl looking guy stands up taller and puffs out his chest looking proud. It’s cute!

“Yeah I think he’s still upset he’s not in the top 3 anymore.” I chuckle, there fun, you can tell they all joke around a lot.

“Well I’m in.” I say walking up to the gym and yelling back at Tsuki “don’t make me do this alone.” The three others stay in the door continuing to try and convince Tsuki to join.

I’m walking through but jump when I her “oh hi” from the floor, looking down it’s the tall kid who was talking to Hinata earlier. He looks like a baby dear before it can walk!

“What happened to you?”

“Kuroo did.” I laugh back at him. He sits up more going over to sit agains the wall and I move to sit next you him.

“Your a first year right? How long have you been playing?” A guy like him is clearly a powerhouse, I assume he’s been playing for years.

“Oh I just started!” He says with a goofy grin on his face,

“You just started!!”

“Hey! How long have you been playing!” He says in an amusing accusatory tone

“Well, I kinda just started too!”

“Haha were tied.” I smile over at him, he looks kinda intimidating but he certainly doesn’t act it as he giggles at our interaction. I think back to when I first saw him earlier he was with Kennma, I wonder where he is?

“Hey your on the team with Kennma right, I just talked to him earlier today and haven’t seen him around much since?”

“Oh Kennma?” I hear Kuroo yell jogging over to us “he went to go play some video games, he’s not really the type that needs to practice, nor do I think we could get him too!” He chuckles.

“Oh that reminds me! Did you get Tsuki to join?”

Kuroo gets a cocky smile on his face looking over his shoulder to see Tsuki looking angry. I get up but before I Kuroo I say “great, you made our tall guy with glasses angry.” I laugh at him sarcastically, he laughs back loudly and we go to start our first practice game of many.

An: hey guys sorry it’s been too long, I’m currently thinking I’ll make this a Kenma x Reader X Kuroo or maybe a Tsuki X reader not sure yet!! Let me know what you think!!!