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man3at3r-mp4 · 2 months

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𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖇 𝖍𝖍 𝖝 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 Ⅱ - 𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒆

Prologue Chapter 3.5

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Charlie = underlined

Y/n = normal

Both = italics

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞

𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

It's been 3 hours and you're already exhausted...okay well maybe not exhausted, but you were definitely bored.

You sighed, leaning your chin on your palm, as you listened to Liam go on about something, probably about how late you both were? You don't know, you stopped listening.

You glanced out the window, to see the 'busy' streets of Heaven. You were able to see what seemed to be a group of friends, laughing and talking with one another. You frowned, you wish you could be enjoying smoothies with Miko, Elijah, and Molly. They were really your only friends.

Yeah, despite being the prince of Heaven, you didn't have many friends. Part of that due, to Sera's insistence of not letting your travel far without super vision. But I suppose, trying to sneak out of heaven every chance you get to go outside is worthy of such a consequence. Well, maybe when you were younger it was an okay punishment, but you're an adult now. You don't need to be supervised like a child.

But like I said, that's only part of the reason. The second being, the friends you tried, or rather Sera forced you to try and make...felt fake. Not to say, they were twisted or two faced. They probably weren't, most likely just some overly excited heavenly resistance being able to meet the famous prince of heaven. However, that didn't mean it didn't get annoying. Whether they had good intentions or not, they made you feel an object..something pretty to ogle and admire. Like an expensive piece of art, a middle class soccer mom would buy, and hang up in the parlor to "impress" her friends, when it really it was to make them envious she was able to afford something so priceless.

It all felt fake, artificial whatever. You've grown accustomed to it, people want to be your friend but they don't want to be your friend. You've come to realize that soon enough, so your feelings wouldn't be so hurt and eventually they didn't and you've came to terms with that.

Everybody loves you, but nobody likes you.

As you were wallowing in your own self pity, you failed to notice Liam, who was desperately trying to get your attention.

"y/n.....y/n!....Y/N!!!!" You finally snapped out of it, the loud volume of Liam's voice effectively spooking you as your entire body went rigid, before you flopped to the floor like a fish.

"Oh dear! Your highness, are you alright?" The Angel cried, as he rushed to your side. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you!" He says, clealry panicking as he helped you stand up.

You rubbed the sore spot on your forehead as you mustered a pained smile, "I'm fine Liam, no need to worry about me" you patted him lightly on the shoulder to reassure him before taking a seat back on the chair.

"But I caused you harm!"

"It was an accident, Liam you're fine! I'm not about to damn your soul to hell" you say sarcastically. You were clealry joking, but apparently Liam didn't think it was very funny, as he looked genuinely distressed.

You frowned, deadpanning,"im joking"

"Oh...well it's not very funny, your highness we don't joke about those sorts of things"

"Me, Miko and Elijah do.." you huffed under your breath, unfortunately it seemed like the other angel heard you.

"Oh do they now?" He asks, if he had eyebrows he would raising them. "They're the hairdresser and the seamstress correct?". You perked up, a bit confused.

"Yeah why?"

"Well it makes sense why you're so snappy lately, I knew thsoe two were a bad influence" he says, arrogantly. Oh, yeah that pissed you off. You weren't one to get frustrated, at least publicly but this was ridiculous. He's blaming your only friends for the reason why you having a sense of humor? You frowned, crossing your arms. You knew if you snapped at him, you would have just confirmed his suspicions and you're sure he would tell Sera, then you'd probably never see Elijah or Miko again.

"Let's just move on, Liam. We still have a shi-" a sharp look from Liam caused you to reword your sentence. "Stupendous amount of work to do" you corrected yourself, causing the other male to relax as he nodded.

"Very well, next we have your astronomy lessons" he says, as he leads you down one of the many halls of the palace.

The grimy streets of hell, the bright, obnoxious neon signs advertising drugs or porn studios, and the stink of death. All things Charlie has grown accustomed to as the princess of hell. One would think, with such an intimidating title as Princess of hell. You'd expect her to be terrifying, cold, and power hungry creature, when in reality Charlie is more comparable to a puppy...or rather a kid.

Charlie was someone you'd least expect to be the princess of Hell. She's sweet, kind, got a big heart, and she's got a passion for singing. She's literally a wannabe Disney princess, just lacking the animal side kick...well unless you count Razzle and Dazzle. But on a serious note, it's unexpected to have someone so happy go lucky as literal he'll born royalty. But what's even more shocking is the fact she started up a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. The reaction to the hotel...was less than positive. But she simply doesn't know when to quit despite being publicly humiliated on tv that her only tenant was involved with a turf war.

But like I said, Charlie has never given up. She simply doesn't know when to quit. Which leads us to now.

The princess of Hell, sitting in the lobby of the hotel, planning out another presentation about her hotel, to potential customers....the presentation really consisted of colorful messy drawings Charlie enthusiastically put together.

the room was quiet , but Charlie could swear she'd be able to hear some radio static every now and then. Which she supposed made sense? Alastor was weird, she wasn't even sure if he slept. Like at all. She shrugged going back to finishing her drawings. "Oo! Oo! Almost finished! I just need pink! Ooo where's the pink!" She said, cheerfully as she scavenged around for her pink marker. Once she found the plastic tube. She quickly uncapped it and scribbled in some doodles and a stripe of pink on her rainbow, and she was finished.

The blonde stepped back, as she held up her masterpiece in the air. "This looks great! I cant wait to show Vaggie!" She grinned, though something caught her attention in the corner of her eye; her phone was on and the Lock Screen showed a picture of her, her father, and her mother. A small frown made its way onto her face, as she glanced back at the messy child like drawings she made. She sighed, placing the papers down on the table as she picked up her phone. She sunk down into the cushions of the couch as she stared at the screen, they were so happy back then....what happened?

"Cmon Charlie, happy thoughts happy thoughts!" She tried to encourage herself. "You've got a hotel to run and sinners to redeem!"

'That is if you get any actual clients' a small voice in the back of her head, spoke but she tried to shake it away. Sure, advertising the hotel on the news wasn't the best choice. Charlie could remember getting into a fight with Katie, and the absolute humiliation of having Angel dust being shown in participating in a turf war. And sure, they haven't had much success, no other demons have joined besides Husk, Niffty and Alastor but they were all employees that were literally forced to be here.

No, she couldn't give up now. Despite the crippling self doubt. She wouldn't give up. "There's got to be someone out there who believes in this hotel as much as I do, there's just gotta be.." she whispered, as she turned to look out the window.

"There's gotta be."

Back in heaven, you were being poked with pins and needles, biting your lip as you desperately tried not to flinch away from the pointed ends.

"Ow!" You finally yelped, as the needle pricked your skin. A small droplet of golden blood dripped from your forearm, staining the white gown you wore being fitted into.

"That wouldn't have happened if you would have stayed still, your highness" the Angel fitting you said, her voice in deep concentration as she clenched another pair of pins in between her teeth.

"I'm trying to!" You pouted, trying your best to stay still. "Why am I even being fitted? Elijah is the one who picks all my clothes! Also this looks like extremely formal attire!"

"Happy you finally noticed, your highness" Liam spoke up, "you're being fitted for wedding" he stated, casually.

"WHAT?!??" You screeched, your eyes as wide as saucers. "Wedding? Wh-what?! When? How- WHy?!?" You stammered over your words.

"Your highness, please stay still.." the female Angel said once more, as she placed another pin into your outfit. You whimpered a soft 'Ow' as you felt it nick you again.

Liam smiled, "ah yes, I forgot, Sera did not tell you." He says nervously. "You're being wed! Congratulations your highness!" He summoned a scroll, this one with a picture of who you assumed would be your future spouse. Before you, you saw a beautiful woman, she had dark skin, and light purple tinted hair, styled in braids, her hair was long, length wise it could rival Rapunzels! Her eyes were gorgeous, siren shaped and a rich color of brown, or well one of them was, the other was a shade of green. You could also notice her dimples. She was beautiful, ethereal even. But you didn't know her! You didn't want to get married to a stranger.

"No!" You screamed, causing everyone to fall silent and look at you in surprise from your outburst. "I-I mean! Yes!" You stuttered over your words to try and save yourself. "She is, sh-she's beautiful but I don't know her!"

Liam looked confused, "she?" He then noticed his mistake. "Oh silly me, this is the wrong picture, you're not getting married to her, Aurora is your wedding planner.."

You jaw would have been on the floor, if it weren't literally attached to your skull.

" Why am I even getting married?! Sera told me none of us could since our life had to be devoted into making heaven and earth a better place! And romance would get on the way?"

"Well, she's changed her mind. Or rather the humans on earth did, you are the Angel to represent us down in the mortal realm y'know? And you know humans and their romances! They think it's be a good idea!" Liam explained. So what? This was just a big PR stunt? For the fucking humans?!?

"But- don't-"

"Do not being up Adam and Eve, y'know he and Eve were far from the perfect couple no matter how hard the mortals try to make it seem they were"

You sighed, "yeah..." you couldn't fight that, the fact Adam doesn't even fucking speak abt Eve, is already enough to know that even the humans on earth could see they weren't a great couple. Though, they blamed most of it on Eve.

Misogynistic pigs.

"Don't worry, Prince Y/n. Everything has already accepted and he's more than happy to be married to you! He even sent engagement gifts!" Liam snapped his fingers, and a hoard of angels came in carrying gifts. Placing them neatly in the corner before exiting the room.

You were too stunned to say anything, Gifts?!? Really?!? They sent you gifts?!? luckily your fitting was over. The Angel fitting you pulled out all the pins, making you sigh in relief, as she went to speak to Liam.

"We'll have to shrink it down to a medium, and we need to adjust the waistline, the Prince has surprisingly wide hips for a man." They both glanced at you, as you blushed in embarrassment, shrinking back as you placed your hands in your hips, and felt around.

'Damn I guess I do have those Kim kardashian hips...' you thought. Though you couldn't really tell if that's a good or a bad thing. While you were in your thoughts, you failed to notice that Liam pulled out your to do list for today. "Oh, we're late, late, late. We have twenty, maximum twenty-two minutes for your royal fitting. And then it's move, move, move to your speech at the Angelic Society. After that, we have to rush, and I mean rush, to the Heavenly Society Tea. And then there's your math lessons, your geography lessons, your science lessons..."

You sighed, as Liam began to go on and on, tuning him out as you focused your attention to look out the window. You noticed a butterfly, you're not sure how it got here, but you wished you could fly away like they could, "All my life, I've always wanted to have one day just for me. Nothing to do, and for once, nowhere I need to be" you placed your face in your palm.

"With no lessons, lords or lunches Or to-do list in the way" as you went on, your voice grew a bit louder to drown out Liam's rambling as you snuck away, desperately trying to loosen the tightness of the outfit you wore.

"No one to say when to eat or read or leave or stay" you made your way to the balcony as you continued on, you held out your pointer finger, as the (f/c) colored, butterfly landed on your finger.

"That would be the day"

"All my life, I've always wanted to have one day for myself. Not waking up with a pile of work on every shelf" Charlie sang, as she brushed her suit jacket off, as she stood up from her spot on the couch.

"With no father in need of impressing. And no hotel in disarray" she stepped over the scattered markers on the floor as she saw something catch her attention out of the corner of her eyes. It was a butterfly, that intrigued her. You didn't see butterflies in hell. But it was a beautiful shade of cherry red, it matched her eyes.

"No hell with thousands of sinners to save" she opened the window, gently to not spook the winged creature. It eagerly flew inside, spooking KeeKee a bit. Charlie chuckled, as she held out her finger as she watched it gently land on it. "And no extermination in the way".

Her smile fell a bit as she watched the butterfly fly off her finger, as all the weight and self doubt creeped in again. "What would it be like to be..."

You watched as the butterfly flew off your finger, "What would it be like to be free?"

"Free?"

"Free to try crazy things" you looked up at the sky, dreamily with a cheeky smile on your face.

"Free from endless IOUs" the red eyed demon, cooed, as she leaned against the wall of the hotel.

"Free to fly" your ears flicked, as you watched the butterfly flutter past you and out towards the balcony.

"Free to sing"

"And marry whom I choose" you sang bitterly, as you remembered your arranged engagement you own fucking sister didn't tell you about.

"Cmon your highness, don't be so upset. This is for the greater good, you both will be an adorable couple! Helping bring hope to humans for centuries to come!" Liam said enthusiastically.

"I guess ..." you grumbled bitterly, "it's my duty..."

"Oh look! Another engagement gift!" He cooed, as another Angel sent down a gift on the growing pile. You rose a brow, a bit skeptical. "You would think that I'm so lucky that I have so many things" you crouched down to grab one of the presents, it was wrapped in your favorite color with a golden ribbon on the top. "I'm realizing that every present comes with strings" you looked at the gift solemnly, as you fiddled with the string.

"Though I know I have so little, my determination's strong" Charlie, glanced around the slightly ramshackled walls of the hotel, nervously. Before putting on a determined grin, "People will gather around the 7 rings to hear my song!" The blonde twirled, as she thrusted her arms up enthusiastically into the air.

"Now I fear I'll never be..."

"Soon, I will forever be..."

"Free"

You and Charlie both made your way back to your balconies, as you both sang in harmony. " I close my eyes and feel myself fly a thousand miles away". You both gripped the railing as you both overlooked your kingdoms; Your sunny blue clear skies and Charlie's dark and dingy horizon. "I could take flight, but would it be right?" You both glanced up at the colored butterflies fluttering around you. "My conscience tells me, "Stay"

"I'll remain forever royal" you sighed, as you closed your eyes.

"I won't give up on these sinners yet!" Charlie declared determinedly.

"Duty means doing the things your heart may well regret"

"But I'll never stop believing" Charlie cooed softly, as she looked up in the sky dreamily. She was sure there was someone up there in heaven who'd take her seriously

"She can never stop my schemes" you rolled your eyes playfully, as you leaned against the railing. Sure, Sera could try and tie you down with marriage but you weren't about to roll over and take it.

"There's more to living than gloves and gowns and threads and seams" You both sang into the empty sky, as y'all watched the butterflies finally soar away from the balcony

"In my dreams, I'll be free"

"Nice singing twink" a familiar voice snapped you out of your perfect harmony, causing you to freeze. You turned around bashfully, as heat began to rush to your face. You were NOT expecting to be caught. You were met with the familiar sight of Adam's exterminator mask, you sighed. "Good afternoon Adam..." you noticed Lute standing not far from him. "Good afternoon Lute"

"Afternoon, your highness" she replied, professionally, nodding her head in a slight bowed.

"Uh? You don't sound pleased to see me? Which is fucking crazy, since I'm ADAM y'know the-" you cut him off swiftly.

"The original dick? Yeah, I know Adam..." you huffed, crossing your arms. "What do you want anyways?" You asked, as you fiddled with the collar of your shirt.

"What a guy can't see the cute little twink he's about to put a ring on?" He asked smugly.

Your eyes widened, at those words, your form stiffening, as you processed what he had just said. Adam...is the Angel you're marrying.

Adam.....marriage you.

Adam is marrying you.

You couldn't help but let out the screech you've been holding in. Fuck that entire Disney princess ass song you sang about follwing your duty for the greater good that was when you thoughts you were marrying literally anybody else except literally FUCKING ADAM.

"OH YOU MOTHERFU-"

-... ..- - / .-- .. - .... / - .... . / .--. .-. . -.-. .. --- ..- ... / -... .-.. --- --- -.. / --- ..-. / -.-. .... .-. .. ... - --..-- / .- / .-.. .- -- -... / .-- .. - .... --- ..- - / -... .-.. . -- .. ... .... / --- .-. / -.. . ..-. . -.-. - .-.-.- .---- / .--. . - . .-. / .---- ---... .---- ----.

@mixplara @lukerycyja-reblogs

Hey y'all, how y'all doin *nervous smile*. I'm sorry this took so fucking long, the or I am dox got deleted and then I keep rewriting the chapter cause I didn't like it and honestly I'm not not even sure if I like this version of it. Let me know if you thought the addition of the song was corny, I had very mixed feelings towards it. Cause I thought it would

Also from now updates will be every Friday, any other updates in between the week will me deciding to be a motivated bitch out of literally nowhere. <333 anyways bye pookies

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vivzieverse #vivziepop #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #adam x reader #angel dust #x male reader #charlie morningstar #adam hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel charlie #blood of the lamb #man3at3r.mp4 writes

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gimmethatagustd · 2 years

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paint me naked | jjk

After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he’s not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

» pairing: artist!jungkook x f!reader (ft. taehyung) » genre: BTS, 18+, college au, fluff, smut, angst » warnings: alcohol, marijuana, brief mention of drug dealing, fingering, cunnilingus, protected sex, reader struggles with self-esteem issues (due to misogyny), tae fuckboy antics, everyone is obsessed with jk’s thighs 😂 » date/wc: april 2022 | 16k » notes: this one was really fun to write! i’m a slut for art student aus tbh. it’s the depressed writer in me lkhsdks 😂 anywayy, the poems were written by me as well. let me know what your favorite part was in a comment or reblog! special shoutout to @jjkeverlast for being so supportive of me when i’m stressing out about my writing

» masterlist | ao3 | send me ur thots 👅

» what was jai listening to? paint me naked - ten // don’t - bryson tiller

“Jungkook, I don’t think this is gonna work.”

“Let me try.”

Your eyes strained to see the boy standing in front of you, but the room was pitch black. It was good, though. You’d purposefully blocked out as much light as you possibly could. It had been a surprisingly difficult feat, mostly because the two of you hadn’t thought this through very well. A rolled up towel was shoved against the bottom of the bedroom door to keep the light from the hallway out. Blackout curtains had already been drawn over the windows when you got there, so that made the window problem easier. Luckily, you’d remembered to unplug the digital clock sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, the last piece of light you could have some control over putting out.

To make things weirder, you were in Jungkook’s parents’ room.

“It’s the darkest room in the house!” he’d insisted and you hadn’t objected because, well, it seemed on brand for the way the entire night was going.

With arms stretched out, your fingers pressed into something bumpy and hard. You could hear Jungkook’s breathing beside you and a light laugh alerted to you that he was much closer than you’d initially thought. After a quick prod, fingers gliding slightly upward, you realized you were grabbing his abdomen. The hard ripples you’d felt were his toned abs beneath his thin t-shirt.

“Sorry,” you whispered, though there was no need to be quiet. Jungkook’s hands wrapped around yours and took the objects you had clutched between them: scissors and an undeveloped film roll.

Drawing your hands back to your side, you waited in silence. The sound of metal scraping against plastic was the only sound in the room aside from the quiet rustle of wind blowing through leaves outside. You don’t think you’d ever felt silence before until that moment. It was electric, a pulsing sizzle that sparked up your fingertips and jolted into your heart as you stood beside Jungkook. The harmony your breathing had fallen into made the moment feel far more intimate than you’d expected. Why was standing in the dark with someone so intimate?

“Fuck,” Jungkook muttered, and you heard what you imagined was him stabbing the scissors into the film.

“Oh my god, please don’t cut yourself, okay? I don’t know where the hospital is from here.”

His only response was another quiet laugh and you knew from the sound that his nose was doing that scrunched up thing that it always did when he was making fun of you. After only a few months of knowing Jungkook he was certainly very comfortable teasing you. He was pretty comfortable with you in general, you were beginning to realize.

And why were you here? Standing in the dark with a boy you barely knew from a shared university class, one who towered over you in height as well as being much larger than you physically. Trying to pop open film because Jungkook somehow thought you could actually develop this film without having access to a real darkroom. Sure, all throughout high school you’d taken film photography classes. You had the development process memorized by heart, from the length of time the film needed to soak to the different types of chemicals needed and what order you were supposed to submerge the prints in. You’d even emailed your old high school teacher to double check.

But doing all of that in Jungkook’s parents’ house? You knew it wasn’t going to work, but the guy had insisted on you helping him. Was it concerning that he had all these chemicals stored in a plastic tub in his closet? Maybe. And was it the safest decision to use scissors to pop open the film instead of the proper tool (which Jungkook had forgotten to order off of Amazon in advance)? Absolutely not.

On top of that, no one knew where you were; you’d simply told your roommates that you were going to hang out with the guy from your university poetry class.

“Jungkook? The weird one with all the tattoos and piercings?” Your roommate, Amiriah, had asked.

“He’s not that weird.”

“Y/N, he wrote a poem about eating pussy for a class assignment. You said so yourself. Please tell me how that’s a normal thing to do.”

“And didn’t he have to read it outloud to the class because he turned it in late?” Now it was time for Courtney to pipe in from her position lounging on the couch, an episode of Love Connection paused on the TV screen.

“Okay, yes, he did do both those things. But I swear he’s actually really sweet. He’s just misunderstood.”

Courtney had launched a pillow at you, though the object zoomed past your head and landed against the refrigerator, knocking down multiple of Amiriah’s magnets. Much to her dismay.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to reality, or at least some semblance of it. You couldn’t understand how someone could have such a soft voice. Listening to Jungkook speak was like floating on a cloud. His cadence was a gentle caress against your skin, a sound that could easily flutter your eyes and lull you to sleep. It didn’t matter what he was saying; everything sounded better coming from Jungkook’s mouth.

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you. A few moments and a bit of shuffling later, the lights sprung on. Your eyes instantly shut and slowly pried open again from the blaring brightness.

The poor film looked like it had been mauled by a bear, but it was still somehow intact. Jungkook slipped it into his pocket for safekeeping and turned to look at you. He had this thing about eye contact that really made you uncomfortable. When he met your gaze, he looked straight into your eyes, as if he was looking into you rather than at you.

“Do you want a drink?”

His question caught you off guard, but he was already picking up the towel from the floor to open the bedroom door. Without answering, you followed him through the house and into the kitchen. You stood in the doorway, hands clasped in front of you, eyes following his large frame navigating the kitchen cabinets.

“All my parents have is rosé, is that okay?”

He uncorked the chilled bottle and poured each of you a glass. Then he did something that your roommates could add to the list of weird things they'd developed for him.

He sat on the floor.

You stared at him with your lips slightly parted, unsure if you were supposed to follow him. There was an entire kitchen table with multiple chairs. Why was he sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the doorframe? Bottle of rosé sitting on the tile next to him. He looked up at you with impossibly soft doe eyes and you couldn’t just stand there with your glass. So, you slowly sank to the floor, your shoulders brushing against each other as you sat next to him.

“Y’know, I just realized the film you have is color film.” You spoke slowly, hating that you were about to burst his bubble. “You wouldn’t be able to develop it at home, anyway. The chemicals you bought are for black and white film, and color film has to be developed using heat.”

“Damn.” Jungkook tipped his head back to take a very deep drink of his wine.

“We gave a valiant effort, though.” You flashed him a small smile and the grin you got in return made your face grow hot.

Your roommates weren’t really wrong. Jungkook didn’t have the best reputation on your university campus. There were rumors that he sold drugs (marijuana and acid, specifically) and had gang affiliations. He was quiet, kept to himself, and didn’t seem to have a whole lot of friends aside from a few guys who were equally just as questionable. Yes, you knew he’d gotten arrested the day before spring break started for getting into a fight with a guy on campus, but based on what your friends had told you, it was definitely the other guy’s fault.

You’d also heard he had great head game, but that was a whole other thing. You just had a really hard time believing all the bad things people said about him, even when he’d admitted to a lot of the rumors being true.

“A gang tried to recruit me when I was fresh outta high school, but I like selling on my own. Can’t trust people for shit.”

He’d said it so casually, and you wondered what was wrong with you for finding a conversation about dealing drugs attractive.

The thing your roommates, and a lot of other people, didn’t understand was that there was more to Jungkook than whatever dumb rumors got spread around (real or not). He was an exceptional writer. His poetry weaved in elements of hip hop, almost sounding like eloquent and lyrical rap lyrics rather than your typical stuffy poem that other students in your class tried to pass off as profound. He didn’t shy away from writing about mental health, sex, relationships, and loss. Everything he put down was raw, and you liked that it made other people in the class uncomfortable. Jungkook wasn’t afraid to be himself. Wasn’t that what art was supposed to be all about?

And he was artistic in every way. Not only did he write well, but he was obviously into photography, and he also dabbled in multimedia sculpture. But the most impressive was probably his paintings. You’d seen the work he’d posted on Instagram, and during one of your hangouts he’d told you about how he’d been commissioned by the city to work on a public mural with another local artist.

Very few people knew these things about Jungkook. They saw the tattoos, the piercings, the occasional blunt wedged between his lips, and they painted him in a way that was so distorted it annoyed you.

“Thanks for helping me, though. I appreciate you.”

You bit your bottom lip into your mouth to suppress another smile, instead opting to simply nod your head and cover up any expression by taking a drink.

At this point, the two of you had been hanging out at least once a week. Usually you just sat outside on his parents’ front porch and smoked and talked about life. His parents seemed to always be out of town, and although Jungkook lived across the hall from you in the university dorms, he stayed at his parents’ house a lot to take care of their dog.

It felt weird, though, hanging out with Jungkook. It was like all your interactions could only happen during those moments; otherwise, he didn’t talk to you when you saw him around campus. Even in your advanced poetry class, he would lock eyes with you across the room, but he never said a word.

And it didn’t help that he was best friends and roommates with Kim Taehyung, the campus casanova who’d fucked you like you were the only girl in the world for an entire semester until you saw him cuddled up at a party with some other girl who didn’t even go to your university. The next day he was standing at your dorm asking for his skateboard back, weaving some lie about how summer break was the time to be single and have fun, but that he would “never forget” the fun times you'd had.

Then Taehyung got a girlfriend.

So maybe you were a little bit bitter over how things ended with Taehyung (and maybe you’d spent the entire summer crying yourself to sleep at night and aimlessly scrolling through Tinder, looking for anyone who might replace him and finding nothing). But the worst part was knowing that Taehyung had probably talked to Jungkook about you, and you had no idea what he might have said.

“Hopefully the film is still okay,” you said after a moment, trying to pull yourself out of the cyclical negative thoughts you were often consumed by.

You finished your glass, shaking your head at Jungkook’s offer for more rosé. He nodded, pushing himself up to stand and reached out to take your empty glass.

You watched him from the floor as he washed the glasses in the sink. Your eyes lingered just a bit too long on the way his forearm muscles flexed while he cleaned, a few veins popping out along the back of his hands and the inside of his arm. Tattoos and piercings hadn’t ever been your thing, not that you didn’t appreciate the allure of body modifications. You’d just found yourself going after boys who looked polished, good boys to take home to mom. Jungkook had been the one to initiate your friendship, asking to hang out while you worked on your poems or read the many poetry collections due for class. You’d be a liar if you said his sudden interest in you hadn’t sparked your own interest in him.

Just one glass of wine was enough to make you a bit lightheaded, and Jungkook was a heavy pourer, apparently.

“You good?”

You blinked and stared into Jungkook’s face. He was drying off his hands now, watching you with an amused look on his face.

“Umm, yeah. Just a lightweight,” you said with a breathy laugh that sounded a little too forced for your liking. Jungkook didn’t seem to notice.

“You wanna go to my studio with me? The one on campus?”

You looked down at your phone, a few text messages popping up from your roommates demanding to know where you were. Swiping to clear the notifications, you looked up at Jungkook and gave him a small smile.

“Sure.”

“That thing so fire baby, no propane. Got good pussy, girl, can I be frank? To keep it 100, girl, I ain't no saint.”

Music came blaring out of the car’s speakers at an alarmingly high volume, causing you to exhale a startled shout. Jungkook quickly lunged to turn down the volume and accidentally honked the car’s horn when his shoulder leaned against the steering wheel.

“Shit, sorry.”

“Talk about fucking sensory overload, fuck,” you mumbled, heart still dazed in your chest.

“It was actually nice outside for once. I was whippin’ with the windows down, so the music’s gotta be louder.”

All he was getting from you was rolled eyes and the sound of your seatbelt clicking into place.

Jungkook turned around to look over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway. He grabbed onto the back of your seat to position himself; once again, you found yourself eyeing his arms, exploring the exposed tattoos. It kind of pissed you off how hot it was when guys drove backwards. What was evolutionarily advantageous about that attraction?

“If you wanna change it, I got a couple CDs.”

Jungkook motioned to the middle console. You flipped through them, finding the album that was currently playing. You’d recognize it anywhere; he was one of your favorite musicians.

“Bryson Tiller?” You turned the CD case over in your hand, eyes scanning the tracklist on the back. “You listen to sex music while you drive? And off a CD instead of Bluetooth, no less?”

Jungkook barked out a laugh, all teeth and crinkled eyes that you could just barely make out as the streetlights streaked over his face.

“Yeah, I guess I do. You got a problem with Bryson?” His fingers lazily tapped against the steering wheel to the relaxed beat of Don’t - which happened to be your favorite song on the album. “This car is twenty-one years old. You’re lucky we’re not sitting here listening to cassettes.”

“Who doesn’t like Bryson Tiller? That’s the baby-making music of our generation,” you said with a laugh. “Honestly, I can’t believe this song came out in fuckin’ 2015. Why does that feel like such a long time ago?”

Jungkook sat in the driver’s seat with his legs spread as much as possible; this position was what had made you realize just how thick and nice his thighs really were. Plus, he drove with one hand on top of the steering wheel, left elbow bent slightly. He usually let his right hand rest against his thigh, though sometimes he held onto the gear shift in between the two of you.

There was rarely any traffic in your college town, and especially not at 10pm on a Tuesday night. The two of you fell silent, Bryson Tiller’s soulful lyrics swirling through the car in the absence of conversation. Jungkook was typically a man of few words. You’d grown accustomed to carrying the conversation. With most people, that would have bothered you, but with Jungkook it was different. You knew he was paying attention when you talked; you could see it in the way the corners of his mouth twitched when you said something dorky (which was, apparently, all the time).

And when he did have something to say, it was always worth the wait.

“You’ve got good taste,” Jungkook said after driving a few blocks. “Guess I should probably add him to my sex playlist.”

Before you had time to process his comment Jungkook was pulling into the east parking lot of your university, the part of campus that was off to the side and only held art-related facilities.

He led you to an unmarked backdoor of the building closest to the parking lot. Pushing the door open, he held it for you with a sweep of his hand.

“Ladies first, noona.”

Scowling at the honorific, you still obliged, entering a long hallway. The walls were bare, just an eggshell white, a few black scuff marks here and there, as if someone had been carrying something large and struggled to fit it through the narrow space. Jungkook maneuvered past you to lead the way to another unmarked door.

The studio was a lot larger than you expected. One side of the room had a large rack of painted canvases to dry. You turned to inspect the left side of the room, finding multiple easels with additional canvases of varying sizes, most blank or seemingly half-finished. A rather worn-looking couch was placed in the middle of the room. Beside it was a coffee table and a Bluetooth speaker. (So Jungkook did know about modern technology.) Paint-covered tarps protected much of the concrete floor, and there were paint buckets and other supplies scattered in every corner. The entire room was pure chaos, but it seemed like there was an organization to it that only Jungkook knew.

“So… yeah. This is my studio.” Jungkook closed the door behind you and locked it.

Your heart skipped a beat at his action, but you swallowed down the spike of fear that had threatened to bubble up inside of you. You’d spent plenty of alone time with Jungkook. There was nothing to worry about.

“I had to practically beg the school to let me have my own space since I’m not an art major, but they eventually let up,” Jungkook continued with a shrug.

You were impressed, honestly. Jungkook wasn’t known for being the most reliable student academically; it was surprising they’d given him such privileges.

“I like it,” you said simply, eyes still roaming the space. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do now. Studio art wasn’t really your thing, poetry was.

Luckily, Jungkook had a knack for reading your mind.

“You can sit on the couch if you want. I got a project due tomorrow morning, so I’m gonna work on it. But if you wanna paint, just lemme know.” He scrolled through his phone as he spoke, and eventually more R&B music started playing from the speaker.

“Tomorrow morning? JK, it’s fucking 10:30.”

You stared at him with your head tilted to the side in disbelief, but you were only met with another shrug and a grin. Living on the edge. King of Procrastination, Jeon Jungkook. You were already getting secondhand stress.

With a quiet hum to himself as the music took over, it was clear to you that Jungkook had switched to his serious side. He began prepping one of his easels with various paint brushes and paints. Dragging a heavy-looking but small filing cabinet next to the easel, he used the surface to store his supplies while he worked.

You flopped onto the couch, adjusting so you could have a clear view of Jungkook. He looked cute in his jeans and black hoodie, a blunt pencil tucked behind his ear. His lips pouted slightly as he planned what he was going to do with his painting. Occasionally the pencil would be plucked from his ear and a few sketches appeared on the canvas, too light for you to see what they were from your position on the couch.

The vibration of your phone tore your eyes away from Jungkook’s figure. It was no surprise that your roommate group text was blowing up.

Courtnayyy 😘 [10:00] BITCH WHERE ARE YOU

A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:01] pls tell me the weirdo didn’t murder u

Courtnayyy 😘 [10:04] If he did can I have your Mac Miller poster?

A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:15] court how tf would she approve of that if she’s dead? she ain’t gonna see this shit

Courtnayyy 😘 [10:18] Ouija board

A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:25] stfu 🔫

A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:25] Y/N you better answer ur fucking phone right now

A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:40] hellooooooooooooooooooo

You let out a sigh loud enough for Jungkook to look over at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“My roommates think you killed me.”

Jungkook grinned and turned back to his easel with a shake of his head. You’d expected him to say something, but then the reminder that Jungkook was… unconventional slithered into your mind.

[10:45] I’m alive. Can you pls stop blowing up my phone now? 💀

Courtnayyy 😘 [10:46] FUCKING FINALLY

A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:47] what are you doing??

[10:50] We’re just hanging out at his studio. I’ll probably leave soon

You tossed your phone next to you on the couch and lifted your arms into the air to stretch. It was rather warm in the studio and the smooth music of whatever playlist Jungkook had on was making you feel sleepy. What kind of lame college student were you?

“I was serious about what I said.” Jungkook didn’t look at you while he painted, too focused on mixing the right shade of brown.

“About what?”

“You can paint if you want. All the paint and brushes are in the cabinet.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flitting from the filing cabinet next to Jungkook to the easel off to the side with a blank canvas. What if whatever you painted looked like shit? You had no idea what you were doing.

But when did you ever get to paint in your adult life?

Pushing yourself off the couch you approached Jungkook to start rummaging in the drawers for supplies. You were stopped in your tracks, however, the moment your eyes landed on his painting. Considering that much time hadn’t passed, Jungkook was far along in his work. You came face to face with a woman, or at least the naked body of a woman. She was painted in soft earthy tones, curves accentuated by what looked like a gold silk ribbon that wrapped around her. The painting was certainly abstract because she was missing a head and her limbs weren’t finished, but just having her strong torso and thighs, and a long regal neck, somehow made her feel complete.

“That’s beautiful, JK. She looks so realistic… How can you do all those little details so quickly?” You spoke quietly, desperately wishing you could touch the canvas.

“Painting nudity is easy.” Another classic Jungkook shrug. “That’s why it’s so overdone. There’s nothing more beautiful than humans in their purest state, right? We’re the original art.”

You would have never considered nudity to be pure, but you liked Jungkook’s analysis. Society saw nudity as all about sex. Despite his depiction of breasts and genitalia, Jungkook’s painting was a reflection and appreciation of a body.

You wondered if it was anyone’s body in particular.

The thought soured your mood a bit, and you quickly returned your focus to finding the supplies you needed. Satisfied, you took up the easel beside Jungkook. What the fuck were you going to paint? Especially now that you had this beautiful work blooming next to you.

“Don’t think about it so much. Just go for it.”

There was Jungkook reading your mind again.

You weren’t sure how much time passed with the two of you working silently. At first you’d considered doing something abstract, but eventually you felt compelled to do something a bit more realistic. You’d retrieved your phone (ignoring your roommates’ texts again) to pull up a photo for reference as you painted.

After a while Jungkook lifted his finished painting and carried it to the rack to dry. By the time he had completed his painting, you were putting your final touches on yours - one that was far more simplistic. You found it entertaining, though.

“Who is that?”

You’d been so absorbed in getting those final details perfected that you hadn’t noticed Jungkook standing right behind you. You jumped slightly and that elicited a chuckle from the boy.

“It’s a portrait of Bad Bunny.” Your greatest celebrity crush.

“He’s cute. You did a good job considering you looked so scared to start.” His comment left your cheeks burning. You’d hoped it hadn’t been so obvious, but Jungkook was too observant for his own good (and for yours, too). “Maybe I should hire you as my assistant.”

“Thanks. It’s not as good as yours, though.”

Jungkook waved you off and the action made him realize he had a good amount of paint on his hands. Rather than find a towel, he simply rubbed his hands against his thighs. You watched him, eyes lingering on the way his thighs stretched the tight material of his jeans. Looking up to return to his face you were met with a smirk. You were doing a real shitty job at being subtle, apparently.

You chose not to say anything and focused your attention on finishing your painting, not wanting Jungkook to be waiting for you longer than he needed to. He sat down on the couch, now distracted by his phone.

“So,” you spoke as you lifted up your finished painting, following Jungkook’s instructions to put it on the drying rack. “What was the inspiration for your painting?”

Was it a bold question? You were trying to play it off like you weren’t going to cling to whatever his answer was.

Jungkook patted the space next to him to encourage you to sit down. Once you were sitting next to him, your body turned slightly to face him, Jungkook leaned forward. His face was mere inches from yours and you could feel his breath tickle your cheek. He watched you with those brown doe eyes, such an innocent feature on an otherwise devious-looking face. The smirk that formed on his lips strongly contrasted the sweetness of his eyes.

Jungkook’s tongue poked out to play with his lip ring before he answered your question. It was impossible to look away from his lips, and you thought you felt your heart stop.

“The deadline.”

The smirk grew deeper as he pulled away, running a hand through his hair. You were more than disappointed, feeling yourself deflate and finally realizing you’d been holding your breath. Your shoulders slumped slightly, but you managed to mask the reason for your disappointment by pretending you were disappointed in him.

“Boy, you need to work on your assignments earlier so you can come up with something good,” you huffed, crossing your arms against your chest.

“Was it not good?” He grinned, a cocky twinkle in his eyes, no longer doe-shaped but narrowed in mirth. “Come on, let me drop you off. It’s almost 2.”

“Fuck, I have an 8am.”

With a quick check on your phone you saw that it was indeed almost 2am. How had you spent almost four hours in the studio without realizing it? Nevermind the fact that you’d spent another three or four hanging out with Jungkook before you’d even gotten to the studio.

“I’d skip if I was you.”

Jungkook led you through the art building and to his car, making sure that the music didn’t startle you half to death when he started the car this time.

“Unlike you, I’m a good student, thanks.”

It wasn’t a terrible dig because you knew Jungkook enough to know he didn’t give a shit. All he’d do was give you a small smile and melt your heart with the confusion of how it was possible for someone to look both so soft and so dangerous.

Your dorm was on the other side of campus, so the drive over was quick. But rather than drop you off at the sidewalk, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot, much to your surprise.

“I thought you were staying over at your parents’?”

Jungkook kept the car running, but he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned back in his chair.

“Me and Tae are gonna go smoke. I got this new strain of indica we wanna try.”

He didn’t look at you when he spoke, instead facing forward to peer out the window. Once he brought up weed, you realized you could smell the remnants of weed smoke in Jungkook’s car, partially masked by air freshener.

At the mention of Jungkook’s roommate you felt your stomach drop. The feeling was only intensified when you followed Jungkook’s gaze to see a figure with long legs and broad shoulders make their way down the sidewalk, heading right in your direction. You felt ice shoot through your veins and panic settle into your chest.

“Oh,” you squeaked out. You needed to escape, but you couldn’t force your hands to unbuckle yourself and open the door.

“Do you wanna come with us?” Jungkook took your lack of movement as a desire to get high.

You looked at Jungkook with an open mouth, but nothing came out. And even if you could speak, Taehyung was already flinging the car door open.

“Oh, shit, Y/N. I didn’t even see you there.” Taehyung leaned against the car door, eyes sweeping over your small figure as you attempted to look as relaxed as possible.

Did he lick his lips or were you just imagining that?

“Want me to sit in the back?”

Taehyung leaned down so he could poke his head into the car and talk to Jungkook right over you. The position gave you a perfect view of his neck and his collarbones peeking out from beneath the silk button-up shirt he was wearing, the first few buttons undone as usual. His cologne smelled like cedar and you could faintly smell something fruity, likely the strawberry-flavored vape he smoked.

All of that was enough to send you mentally screaming into the void.

“ThanksJungkookIgottago,” you sputtered, doing your best not to touch Taehyung as you moved around him to get out.

“Y/N!”

You ignored Jungkook’s call, not daring to look back. Despite your exhaustion you took the stairs two at a time until you made it to your dorm, nearly dropping your keys as you unlocked the door. The kitchen and living room were dark, so you knew your roommates were asleep - or at least in their own rooms. You didn’t even bother to do your nighttime routine, opting to strip down to your underwear and collapse into your bed face-first.

Darkness and silence brought you no solitude; quite honestly, they had the opposite effect. All you had in your head was Taehyung’s face… in your ears, his voice… in your nostrils, his smell.

Groaning, you flipped onto your back and grabbed your phone to put on your favorite thunderstorm white noise playlist. In the middle of picking the perfect sound, your phone buzzed with a text.

Jungkook (Poetry) [2:15] you good?

You bit your lip, not wanting to leave him hanging so late, but also knowing if you went down this rabbithole you’d never fall asleep.

[2:16] I’m fine

Your phone vibrated almost immediately, but you forced yourself to put it away. Whatever Jungkook had to say could wait until the morning. Or until never, because right now you never wanted to speak to another human ever again.

Jungkook (Poetry) [2:16] you don’t have to lie to me

Jungkook (Poetry) [3:02] lying destroys our intrinsic value as human beings by corrupting our ability to make rational choices and have free will

Jungkook (Poetry) [3:03] immanuel kant said that

You didn’t realize you’d be hit with a philosophical lecture the moment you woke up, but then you remembered that Jungkook had gone smoking with Taehyung. The two of them got all philosophical when they were high, as if they really could achieve some kind of superior knowledge.

They were idiots.

“Oh my god, when the fuck did you get home last night?”

Anyone speaking that loud and harshly so early in the morning was an assailant. You glared at Courtney, brushing past her to get to the bathroom. You shouldn’t have been surprised that the girl stayed outside the bathroom door as she waited for you to finish.

“It was definitely after 1am ‘cause that’s when we went to bed,” she kept on talking even when you turned the shower on. “What could you guys have possibly been doing that whole time? Did you hook up?”

“No.”

“What?” Courtney strained to hear you over the sound of the high-pressure water.

“I said, no!”

It was ridiculous that you were standing there, rubbing your naked body down with lavender exfoliating soap, while you discussed your alleged hook up with a guy you barely knew.

You thanked the Lord Almighty that your schedule didn’t line up with your roommates on Wednesdays, or else you would have had to suffer Courtney and Amiriah’s interrogations the whole day.

Instead you sleepily dragged yourself through two morning classes and a work shift at the university library before you’d eventually have to face Jungkook head-on.

Your Advanced Poetry class was small enough that all the students could sit around a large table together. The small, intimate class size made it easier for collaboration and made workshops feel a bit less ruthless. You’d gotten to the point that you could read anonymous poems from each of your classmates and know exactly who wrote what. You were like a little family who met every Wednesday evening for two hours and poured your thoughts, dreams, fears, and goals into each other with every written piece. This class was going to be what broke your heart when the semester was over; you could already feel yourself missing it.

“Alright, y’all, we’re going to workshop the imitation poems from the exercise last week.”

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Whatever else Professor Mendez was saying didn’t compute; she sounded like she was speaking underwater and all you could do was shift your eyes to look at Jungkook across the table from you. You hadn’t expected him to be already looking at you nor for him to hold your gaze until you quickly looked away.

The poem you’d written for the exercise was about Taehyung.

You’d thought only your professor was ever going to see it. And now she was calling on you to read yours aloud first. No one else would know who it was about, but you knew Jungkook would know.

“Y/N?”

Professor Mendez looked at you, her star pupil, with an encouraging smile. You swallowed, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze though you felt him staring. If you kept the piece of paper on the table in front of you, you wouldn’t risk showing everyone that your hands were slightly trembling. And then you opened your mouth.

I SAW YOU ONCE IN A FEVER DREAM

(After Kaveh Akbar)

I saw you once in a fever dream shirtless

swaddling me in a hammock hanging from cedar trees

When you smoke it gets stuck

in your hair Save it for later The smell of marijuana

and strawberry vapes lingered in my clothes In another fever

dream you were my mother The doctor asked if I am

allergic to any medications and I should

have said yes but it is only you

I have felt love flow through me I have never felt

it given My friend once told me

there is only so much you can do

At what point am I the problem

Sometimes I stare at the wall and peel the nails

off of my fingers for every time you broke me

Somehow it feels better this way

It was depressing, pathetic even. Sure, you’d imitated Kaveh Akbar’s unique writing style to a T, but now you looked stupid for writing about a man you’d never even dated, who had unofficially “dumped” you last spring semester. Jungkook had to know. Unless he was completely oblivious (which was honestly likely, when you really thought about it). And maybe you were being too cocky, assuming some guy who you meant nothing to would care or even pay attention to the fact that his friend had fucked you into a broken heart.

You sat with tight lips as the class discussed your poem, a few people put off by your use of space on the page, others praising your unique way of formatting the stanzas. Jungkook never spoke, but he never did until the end of class when Professor Mendez called him out for being silent. Then he would provide feedback for whoever had gone before him, his opinion usually directly contradicting whatever your professor said. She knew he wasn’t being defiant, and she welcomed his creative challenge of the status quo. But sometimes he was a bit much.

“Well, Mr. Jungkook. Let’s hear yours.”

You could feel the entire room both tense and lean forward, as if scared but also unimaginably eager for whatever it was they were about to receive.

“I didn’t finish, but I can read what I have. It’s a prose poem.”

UNTITLED

I met her in the evaporated residue of a midnight bong rip. Among glimmers of artificially-simulated worlds, of over-saturated hues. Hurried hues of a purple-pink bruise, bloom, slippery between thighs. Tongue flicks. Slide. These things only happen behind closed doors. An eternity of almosts, she likes to wear my hand as a choker. Drag me whole into desire, into pink folds and broken promises. Drip slick slow stroke glide and move inside, eat feast thrive. Beat it up every time. Pulsate. Pulsate. Own it. My hands on your hips. Blindfold over your eyes. Selfish fuck. I am a decomposing mind; her body whispers otherwise.

Jungkook could have written a poem about dog shit and the way he recited it would have been breathtaking. It didn’t matter that his lines were verging on pornographic for an academic setting; simply the way the alliteration flowed like honey from his mouth was enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine. The words came out like a gentle lullaby of filth, a smooth mantra, a promise of sin. It was no wonder the classroom fell silent. Even Professor Mendez stared at Jungkook with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” she said after a moment.

He nodded politely and slouched into his seat again.

Professor Mendez looked around the room for the first volunteer to take a stab at critiquing Jungkook’s poem. Only a brave soul could manage, and you were determined to keep your mouth shut. You could already visualize the way your classmates were going to gossip about this once class was over. You wondered how long it would take for Courtney and Amiriah to find out.

“Who would like to go first?”

It appeared the class had very few critiques, likely because no one wanted to dive too deeply into the abstract and overtly-sexual writing that had been.

Professor Mendez went on a mini rant about the importance of knowing how to keep the flow of a prose poem that somehow derailed into a story about her new puppy. Perhaps someone had gotten her going to kill the last few minutes of class until it was 8pm and she was forced to let the group of you go into the night.

You always managed to be the last person leaving the classroom every Wednesday night. Usually it was due to your prolonged conversations with Professor Mendez, the two of you gushing over a new poetry collection or the latest episode of a TV show. Jungkook, on the other hand, was typically the first to leave. Likely to go find his little crew of delinquents to do drugs with or whatever else they got themselves into.

Except apparently not today.

As you waved a goodbye to Professor Mendez, you headed down the empty hallway fully aware of the second pair of shoes echoing in the silence along with yours. Your insides were still scrambled from the series of exceptionally unfortunate events that had involved Kim Taehyung in the past twenty-four hours. You had no desire to entertain Jungkook, especially not after him staring you down all of class. And reading that fucking poem.

“Are you really gonna ignore me?”

You squeezed the straps of your backpack and stopped in front of the door to leave the academic building. If you acted bothered it would make you more suspicious. And it would let Kim Taehyung continue to rule your mind. You were better than this…

So you turned around to face the doe-eyed boy and tried not to imagine his hand squeezing your throat.

“I’m not ignoring you.” You cocked your head to one side in feigned confusion. Jungkook met your look with a small pout.

“I’m sorry if I did something to upset you yesterday.”

So, he didn’t know. Either that, or he was lying. But didn’t Immanuel Kant say lying is bad? You did everything in your power not to scowl to yourself.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. I swear.” You let out an irritated sigh, casting a glance behind your shoulder as you heard thunder ripple through the air outside. You’d obviously forgotten to check the weather that morning, looking down at your t-shirt and shorts.

“Okay…” He eyed you skeptically, but he didn’t want to push you further and threaten pushing you away completely. “Can I walk with you?”

“Of course.” He lived literally across the hall from you. You could open your door and be face-to-face with his.

“Okay… Can I give you a hug?”

You rolled your eyes so far and deep inside your skull it was a surprise they didn’t detach and disappear somewhere. It wasn’t fair that you were taking out your frustrations on Jungkook simply because your ego was hurt. That self-awareness was what made you nod your head with your arms outstretched.

Jungkook enveloped you in his large frame, the side of your face pressed against his chest. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, and he held the back of your head in his free hand. There was something about Jungkook’s closeness that caught you off guard. Perhaps it was because this was the first time you’d ever hugged each other; you’d never been this physical with each other at all, actually. You weren’t much of the hugging type, anyway.

Jungkook’s warmth made you settle into his embrace for much longer than you’d expected. He felt soft, safe. Even the chemical smell of paint that had seeped into his hoodie was welcoming. Despite the rumbling of a heavy thunderstorm outside, you could still hear his heart beat beneath you. Something about that realization made you pull away from him suddenly. It was just too… close.

He stared at you with a wrinkled brow and the pout was slowly coming back, but he stayed silent. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Ready?”

With raised shoulders you braced yourself for the downpour.

By the time the two of you had sprinted across the courtyard, you were completely soaked. You felt your earlier frustrations melt with the water droplets gliding down your arms as you leaned against Jungkook’s equally-soaked body. He was nearly doubled over in laughter, shoulder pressed against the wall next to the front door of his dorm room.

“You look like a wet cat,” he teased.

“Oh yeah? Well you look like a wet dog.” Your poor hair was going to get embarrassingly frizzy if you didn’t take care of it immediately.

Jungkook flashed you an evil grin and violently shook his head, sending water spraying all over.

“Jungkook, stop!” you hollered, giving him a shove. “I feel so gross already.”

You twisted around to fish out your dorm key from your backpack, but your fingers scraped the bottom of the pocket. No key.

“Fuck,” you cursed, setting your backpack on the ground to search through more pockets. Giving up on that possibility, you checked the pockets of your shorts. Nothing.

Unlocking your phone, your thumb hovered over your roommate group text, unsure if you should interrupt Amiriah and Courtney. It was a little after 8pm… Both of your roommates would be in their weekly sorority meeting that usually lasted at least an hour, if not two.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… locked myself out.” What a fucking rookie mistake. What was this, freshman year? “I’m pretty sure I left my keys on the kitchen table.”

Now you were stranded in your hallway, cold and soaking wet. You could go downstairs to ask your RA to let you in, but she was a bitch.

“You’re a mess. Come on, I’ve got clothes for you.”

He didn’t give you the opportunity to protest; instead, he stepped inside his dorm without even so much as a look over his shoulder at you.

Apparently your desire to be warm and dry was stronger than your fear of entering the Dorm Room from Hell. You’d never been in Jungkook’s dorm before, mostly because you didn’t want to run into Taehyung.

The layout was the same as yours: full kitchen with adjacent living room, long hall with individual bedrooms that ended with a bathroom. The decorations practically screamed “guys who smoke weed” considering the giant marijuana leaf tapestry hanging in the living room and the multicolored string lights that hung on the ceiling casting a psychedelic glow throughout the dorm. An incense that smelled interestingly like the ocean was burning on the coffee table.

You were pretty sure burning incense wasn't allowed on university property. Then again, neither was smoking weed in the parking lot, but Jungkook and his roommates did whatever they wanted.

“Are you just gonna stand there or…?”

Jungkook led the way down the hall, you trailing a bit behind him as you continued being nosy. As you passed the first bedroom, the door suddenly swung open, causing you to yelp when you were face-to-face with a rather grumpy looking man with shockingly green hair. The bleary look of his eyes told you he’d been asleep.

“Why the fuck are you wet?”

You did a double take, shocked at the roughness of the question from a stranger. Before you could answer, Jungkook was pulling you forward by the wrist.

“Hyung, I went to the grocery store today. There’s tangerines on the counter.”

The green-haired roommate grumbled a thank you and shot straight to the kitchen.

“Just ignore Yoongi,” Jungkook whispered, stopping in front of his bedroom. “He’s a fifth-year senior and probably ready to burn the entire university down.”

Jungkook’s bedroom was the exact opposite of what you’d expected. After seeing the chaos of his art studio, you’d thought his bedroom would be much of the same. Instead you were met with a simple, organized room. No clutter, no mess. Everything had its place, not an art supply in sight. Peaking over his shoulder, you saw even his dresser drawers were organized, each article of clothing neatly folded. That was likely why Jungkook was able to quickly pick out a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts to hand you.

“Oh, and this,” he tossed you a towel, as well. “You can use the bathroom. I’ll be in here.”

“Thank you,” you said with an appreciative nod.

The skin on your fingers had wrinkled up from the rain and you pressed them into the towel to find some relief. Who knew the feeling of wearing dry clothes would be so sweet? You took your time in the bathroom, rubbing down every inch of your body. Unfortunately, even your underwear and bra were soaked. If you put on dry clothes over them, the water would surely bleed into the fabric. So you opted for going commando, to your dismay. At least Jungkook’s t-shirt was baggy enough that your chest wasn’t on full display, and it wasn't like anyone would know you weren’t wearing underwear.

You caught a look at yourself in the mirror and laughed at how ridiculous you looked. It was like you’d come out of a really bad hip-hop music video from the early 2000s, literally drowning in baggy clothes.

“Hey Jungkook… Do you have something I could put my clothes in?” You stood in the hallway in front of Jungkook’s bedroom, wet clothes in your hands. The door was closed and you were afraid of opening it if he was still changing.

“You look cute.”

You instinctively squeezed your bundle of clothes, turning your head to the side at the sound of that Mother. Fucking. Annoying. Ass. Voice.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at you, probably utterly confused as to why you looked the way you did, standing there in his dorm. You were determined to give him absolutely nothing.

“So, you and Jungkook, huh?”

A small smirk twisted at the corners of his mouth. By the way he was standing with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, it was clear that he wasn’t planning on walking away.

“We just got back from class,” you said matter-of-factly.

You focused on a spot on the wall to the right of his head when you spoke; it made it easier to look at him without having to stare into his eyes. Even though you found absolutely nothing about your statement funny, Taehyung started laughing. It was a low chuckle that brought that stupid smirk out even more.

“Were you coming back from class at 2 o’clock this morning, too?”

His eyes glinted with something that made a shiver shoot down the length of your spine.

Luckily, Jungkook’s abrupt presence swinging the bedroom door open gave you and Taehyung someone else to focus on, and you could safely escape the fact that you didn’t have a witty comeback to shove in Taehyung’s face for teasing you about Jungkook. There was nothing there with Jungkook.

He just gave nice hugs. And you respected his creative mind. And he had great taste in music. And you felt a little bit bad for him because people didn’t seem to give him the chances he deserved. And, wow, he was standing in the doorway of his bedroom wearing form-fitting gray sweatpants that sat low on his hips and you could tell that they sat low because he was shirtless. And your eyes were skipping down the path that his happy trail was leading from his belly button down to the strings of his sweatpants that hung down just on top of where you could make out a slight bulge in the fabric.

“Y/N?”

You quickly tore your eyes from Jungkook’s crotch to look at his face, not missing the way Taehyung’s smirk was growing even wider. You opened your mouth, then looked down at your clothes, then back at Jungkook.

“She wants something to put her clothes in,” Taehyung admitted once it was clear you weren’t going to cooperate. “I’m going over to Natalie’s. Oh, and I dipped into your Trojan stash. Yoongi hyung didn’t have any and you have too many.”

He flashed Jungkook a grin and pushed himself from his leaning position on the wall.

“Have fun,” he offered over his shoulder as he walked away, heading to go fuck his girlfriend’s brains out.

You were going to throw up.

“What a fucking asshole,” you breathed through gritted teeth.

Rather than be surprised at your cursing, Jungkook gave you a sympathetic look as he took your wet clothes from you to put in a small duffle bag.

“I’m sorry…” he said after a moment, gesturing for you to step into his bedroom. He closed the door behind you and hopped onto his bed. Just as he’d done in the studio, he patted the space next to him to get you to sit with him.

“C’mere.”

“Jungkook, I don’t wanna bother you anymore. You’ve had to deal with me a lot the past 24 hours.”

“Do I look bothered?”

You gave the boy a tight shake of your head and clambered onto the bed beside him, careful to sit hunched over a bit so your chest wouldn’t be too obvious. For once, he no longer smelled like paint. Instead your senses were overwhelmed by the strong scent of his laundry detergent, something akin to the ocean breeze of the incense the roommates were burning in the living room. He leaned his back against the headboard, but he turned at an angle to look at you from the side.

“He told me about you two…”

You felt your body stiffen at his confession and Jungkook rushed to finish his thought.

“Not the details or anything. But just that you were hooking up.”

Great. This was perfect. Leave it to Taehyung to treat you like a secret yet blabber to his friends. You hadn’t even told any of your friends about Taehyung. To this day, Courtney and Amiriah had no idea. And could you even trust Jungkook when he said the details were spared? Didn’t boys love to talk about their sexual conquests?

“I’m sorry he’s such a fuckboy.”

“Oh, like you aren’t, too?”

“What?!”

Jungkook stared at you incredulously, shocked by your sudden aggression. But you couldn’t stop yourself. The anger you’d let fester in you from countless boys quite literally fucking you over was all spilling over the top. It was just unfortunate that Jungkook was there to bear the weight rather than Taehyung; but you didn’t think he was wholly innocent either. College boys were entitled and selfish. Even though Jungkook had never done anything to you, you’d seen how some girls followed after him like he was some kind of mystery meant to be solved. He never explicitly talked about his love life with you, but you only took that as a bad sign.

“Oh don’t act brand new, Jungkook. You literally make everything about sex. Literally all your poems are about eating pussy. You made that fucking painting of a naked women. And what the fuck is that?”

Your arm shot out to point at a painting hanging on his wall that looked vaguely like an abstract rendition of a vulva. It somehow felt like the icing on the fucked up cake.

“It’s called artistic appreciation!”

“You’re just as gross as Taehyung and all the other guys who just use women for their bodies and don’t give a fuck about how we feel or-”

“Stop it.” Jungkook’s voice hit you like ice. You dropped your arm down and whipped your head back around to look at him, lips falling open at the harshness of his tone.

“Don’t compare me to Tae. You don’t know what I’m like. You barely know me at all.”

“That’s not-”

“I said stop, okay?” he interjected again and the glare he sent you was enough to shut you up for good. Being scolded wasn’t exactly high on your list of favorite activities, especially not from someone you considered to be a friend. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire and you struggled to swallow down your words, shame creeping up your face in waves.

“I’ve spent the last four months in that poetry class watching you write about feeling broken and alone and misunderstood. And you know what I do? I invite you over to do homework ‘cause I know none of your other friends are studying English. And I asked you to go to Morgan Parker’s book reading with me ‘cause I knew you didn’t have anyone else to go with. And I invited you to my studio ‘cause you said you wish you were good at art and I wanted you to see that you could be good if you tried.”

At this point his cheeks had turned bright pink and his hands were bunched up into fists in his lap. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t look away from the fire in his eyes.

“I’m not trying to make you feel like you owe me anything or to get some kind of recognition, okay? But just don’t fucking compare me to Tae when all I’ve ever tried to do is make you feel less alone. I like you, a lot. And I don’t even care that you’re not into me and you’re still caught up on him. I genuinely just want you to be happy.”

With his monologue over, Jungkook turned his head to stare down at his hands, leaving you to peer at his profile with your mouth hanging open.

It was the most you’d heard Jungkook speak, ever. It was also the most expressive you’ve ever seen him. Despite his passion for art, Jungkook was a very level person; he was collected even in the most stressful situations. To see him visibly shaking as he raised his voice was upsetting.

“Jungkook…” You reached out to touch his arm and your heart broke into a million pieces when he flinched.

“It’s whatever.”

But it wasn’t.

You felt like shrinking into the smallest version of yourself and disappearing. You’d spent so much time aching over the wounds Taehyung had left that you hadn’t considered what you might be missing out on, or how you might have been hurting someone else. Your head was lost in the dark cloud hanging over you; your heart couldn’t see anything in front of you. Blinded by your own pain, healing long overdue.

You were so fucking stupid.

“JK…” you started again. Lifting your hand, you brought your fingers to his chin and encouraged him to turn his head to look at you. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I just… It hurts? I don’t know what to do with the hurt.”

From Taehyung and every other reckless boy.

You let go of his face and waited, holding your breath until your lungs burned. Much to your disappointment, Jungkook maintained that cold stare, his eyes boring into yours so deeply that you felt like he was seeing something inside of you that even you didn’t know. You were afraid to look at him, shame making it difficult to hold your head up.

“Give it to me.”

“What?” It was your turn to cast your eyebrows down in confusion.

“Give me the hurt. You don’t have to hold onto it anymore. I can take it.” His large hand enveloped your own, thumb running figure 8s into your skin.

You tried to speak, but you couldn’t choke out even a whisper as his words repeated in your head. Give me the hurt. Your hands shivered beneath his and you looked away quickly, feeling that horrid prickling in the corner of your eyes. You were not going to lose it just because you were touch-starved and never once in your life had someone so soundly declared their desire to take on whatever pain it was that you were feeling. You liked to keep your pain a secret, only letting out emotions through your poetry. And even then, you wanted to separate yourself from it. Writing was like putting down your emotion, letting it exist outside of you, so you could live free from it. But that didn’t always happen the way you wanted it to.

You blinked quickly, losing focus on Jungkook’s face until you felt something hot slip down your cheek and you realized you were crying.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, embarrassment flooding your chest as you tried not to hiccup. What kind of emotional disaster were you? As Courtney would say, it wasn’t very girlboss of you.

“I can take it.”

This time the embers had gone out in his eyes. Instead, his irises were pleading with you. You tried to cover your face with your hands, but Jungkook held them down. He brushed your cheeks dry with his thumb, cradling your chin in his palm.

“You deserve better, okay?”

It was difficult to believe, but the soft gaze Jungkook held made you want to think maybe he was right. But how could it be possible for someone to want to carry your burden for you? He had no reason to.

“I’m good now,” you said after a moment, the tears dried and your breathing returning to normal. You wanted to give him an out, let him have the opportunity to feel like he’d done his part in case he didn’t really mean what he said. You refused to let yourself fall for anymore bullshit.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me…”

There was that familiar line. You felt your eyes instinctually roll and you couldn’t stop the next snarky comment from slipping past your lips, using biting humor as a defense mechanism to cope.

“Okay, Immanuel Kant.”

Jungkook snorted, matching your eye roll, but he gave you a smile that reached his eyes. A classic Jungkook grin that had you giving a small smile in return and making your stomach flip like a fucking gymnast. It made you slowly float back down to reality and you remembered you were sitting in a shirtless Jungkook’s bed, his body leaned forward out of concern for you, his face mere inches from yours. Hand still cradling your chin.

“Jungkook…”

Your voice got caught in your throat with what little breathing you could manage. Then you watched his eyes drop to your lips as you whispered his name, and the melancholic look he gave you when his gaze returned to yours made you squeeze your eyes shut with guilt. He’d confessed his interest in you and you’d completely glossed over it. Not on purpose, but somehow you were making your feelings the priority once again. And now he looked at you like you were already gone.

“Yeah, Y/N?” You opened your eyes at his call.

“I…”

You wanted to tell him how you felt, you really did. But life had taught you that in relationships there was always someone who cared more, and that person always got hurt the most. You just couldn’t keep being that person.

Jungkook studied your face for what felt like an eternity. If he was expecting you to finish your sentence, he was certainly being patient. But it was the way his mouth turned downward into a small frown and his eyes traveled off somewhere behind you that told you he’d lost hope.

Until he was staring at you once again and his grip on your chin tightened so subtly you almost didn’t notice.

“Can I kiss you?”

His voice came out low and thick. The tone sent a shiver down your spine and made goosebumps rise along your forearms. You’d never heard his voice drop so deep before, nor had you seen his eyes darken the way they had now. A spark of desire fluttered in your stomach and you felt nearly lightheaded from the way your body was hitting a peak level of anxiety over his question. If you said yes, were you just giving into yet another boy who would ruin you? And you believed Jungkook could ruin you. He was an artist; they were always trouble.

But there was no denying the fact that your nervousness was merely a physical response to your interest in Jungkook that had grown exponentially over time. You were weak, and he was right. You did feel broken and alone and misunderstood. And you knew that sometimes Jungkook felt that way, too.

Just when Jungkook began to pull away with a look of rejection written across his face, you nodded. Unable to speak, you watched Jungkook’s tongue swipe across his bottom lip as he leaned in even closer.

You were prepared for something much more lewd than what Jungkook gave you. Though your lips were parted, he didn’t invade your space. Instead of tongue and lip biting, you were met with a chaste kiss. His lips were soft and gentle, and the way his hand cupped your face made you feel secure, just as you’d felt when he hugged you. You’d never felt a sense of security with someone from a simple kiss.

And then he was ending the kiss just as quickly as he’d started it, finally dropping his hand from your face.

“Sorry,” he sighed, no longer meeting your eyes when he spoke. “I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t want you to feel like you had to agree to that…”

It was your turn to shut him up. Maybe it was the remaining hormones swirling in your brain from having cried so much, or the adrenaline from being kissed by a man you’d tried to shoo out of your mind, but you felt bold enough to take his chin in your hand as he had done to you. You pressed your lips against his, this time forcing his mouth into a faster, deeper rhythm. The kiss was heavy and more desperate than the first. It was what you’d initially expected Jungkook to give you; a makeout that went hard and fast from the beginning, 0 to 100. That was what fuckboys did, wasn’t it? Anything to get their dick wet the quickest.

It was what you were used to.

Your small hands found the tops of his shoulders, fingers running along his smooth, warm skin before you pushed him against the headboard. Swinging your leg over his, your knees sank into the soft bed as you straddled him. You adjusted slightly in his lap and the shift made your core press directly on top of the bulge in his pants that you’d admired earlier. This realization made the sudden heat between your legs melt like lava, and you ground your hips into his in a smooth but firm motion.

The movement elicited a deep groan from the back of Jungkook’s throat, another sweet sound you’d never had the pleasure of hearing fall from his lips. With his lips parted from groaning, you took the opportunity to slip your tongue inside of his mouth. His hands pushed up the hem of your shirt just enough to allow him to reach the skin of your waist, gripping you hard as your body moved against his.

“Y/N, wait.”

Jungkook pulled back to lean his head against the bed’s headboard and you were met not with lust-filled eyes as you expected, but eyes that looked so deeply pained you almost wanted to avert your gaze.

“I don’t wanna be a rebound. I want this to mean something, or else I can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s voice came out hoarse, and it trembled. His eyes still held that undeniable sadness that reminded you that, once again, you had failed to see how your own fear of rejection had made you ignorant to the feelings you were instilling in him. Here he was, willing to give himself over to you, holding back because he was afraid that you would hurt him.

Once again, shame flooded your face as you frantically searched for a way to show that you needed this to mean something, that in just a few months he had become the most constant person in your life, the person you were most comfortable with even when all you often did was just sit and talk about life.

There was an obvious way to fix this, but you still had that gnawing feeling holding you back.

“I like you, too, Jungkook.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you spoke just barely above a whisper. If you didn’t look at him, the vulnerability of the moment would be easier to manage. “You’re kind and smart even though you’re always toeing the line of academic probation.”

Your words came out rushed, the last comment making you let out a laugh that sounded more like a short burst of air, and you held onto his shoulders for dear life.

“And you’re the most creative and imaginative person I’ve ever met, but you’re so lowkey about everything. You deserve more than you give yourself credit for,” you continued, eyes still closed. “And… I guess you’re kinda hot…”

With that you slowly opened one eye to peek at Jungkook’s face. It was embarrassing to say that the grin he wore made your heart soar and it was only then that you noticed the way his fingertips were running along your sides, tracing invisible designs onto your skin.

“Only kinda hot?”

“Oh shut up.”

You gave him a playful slap against his chest. You let your hand linger there, palm pressed against him to feel the strength of his pec muscle. With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you ran your hand down the length of Jungkook’s chest and along his abdomen until you reached between your bodies to access the hem of his sweatpants.

Without warning you gripped his cock, palming it over his pants. You felt it twitch beneath your fingers, already semi-hard and warm even through the fabric. Jungkook let out a low groan, hips slightly bucking into you. Suddenly aware of how painfully clothed you are, Jungkook slid his hands back up your sides, pushing his t-shirt off of you in the process. Ruining the orderly look of his bedroom, he tossed the t-shirt and brought his attention back to you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed, realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra.

You shuddered at the gentle way he ran his fingers up your sides once more and you leaned forward when his tattooed fingers lightly pinched one of your nipples until it went hard. Then he moved onto the other one, tweaking it slowly.

After a moment you let go of him and reached for the hem of his sweatpants, waiting for him to lift his body so you could pull them down his legs.

He’s big, bigger than you’d expected. You’d imagined he would have a nice dick, purely because it seemed like the most mysterious, standoffish guys always did. They didn’t have to compensate by being boisterous and arrogant; they knew what they were packing and that was enough. But Jungkook was quite possibly too much. You were a small person, for fuck’s sake.

“We don’t have to do this. If you’re not ready, we can stop.”

There was Jungkook reading your mind, yet again. How was it possible for him to know exactly what to say every single time? Were you just that expressive? If so, no one else in your life read you so well.

“Stop talking,” you repeated his earlier command, but you didn’t look him in the eyes. Instead you were focused on how heavy and soft his cock felt in your hand as you admired him. You ran your fingers along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock, then you glided your thumb along the tip to smear the bit of precum that was already leaking. The action made Jungkook whimper and the sound sent a jolt straight into your core.

But just before you could lower your head down to give him what you knew he wanted, Jungkook’s hand was cupping your chin once again. He pulled your face upwards to guide you back to his.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. I want to do this,” you assured him, but he slowly shook his head.

“You’re going in so fast, and you don’t have to. I’m not some asshole hookup. The point of all this isn’t just to get me off and make you put in all the work.” He leaned forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose and you’d never felt more wanted in your entire life. “You deserve to feel good for once.”

Snaking his arm around your waist, Jungkook gently flipped you onto your back. Spreading your legs apart with his knees, he kneeled over you as he began laying hot kisses down the length of your neck, pausing only to suck at the soft skin where your neck and collarbone met.

“Jungkook…” you sighed, squirming underneath him once his mouth began to travel further down.

He flicked his tongue against one of your nipples, drawing a circle around the erect mound. He let out a deep hiss of approval when you moaned, arching your back to push yourself against his mouth. While his tongue was busy exploring your chest, Jungkook took his sweet time pulling his basketball shorts off of you, those too flying across the room.

When he moved back into a comfortable position between your legs, his thigh brushed against your core and he let out a moan loud enough you were sure his roommates would hear him.

“Fuck, Y/N, you could’ve warned me you weren’t wearing any underwear,” he groaned, his thigh now glistening with your arousal.

“Sorry I didn’t think to tell you while I was crying.”

“So dramatic.”

You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment that bore even deeper into your soul when a pathetic whimper escaped your lips the moment you felt Jungkook’s hand slip in between your thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he sighed, effortlessly sliding his fingers along your folds. He ran his fingers up and down slowly as if he were memorizing each crevice and the way your legs jumped when he hit a certain spot, especially once he began stroking your clit.

He was exploring, you realized. He was learning your body and there was nothing more embarrassing. All you could think about was the fear that Jungkook might not like what he saw. Or that he was comparing you to his past fucks. Or that Taehyung had told him things about your sex life.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

You felt your hands being pried from your face and lifted over your head. Jungkook pinned your wrists above you, his face now inches from yours. You could see a restrained wildness in his eyes, but his eyebrows were knitted together in frustration.

“Why?” he repeated.

You shook your head, but another irritated call of your name made you question your decision to defy him.

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed…” you whispered, avoiding his gaze.

“Does this seem like disappointment to you?” Jungkook rolled his hips into you, his now rock hard cock sliding against your dripping folds.

“Ahh, n-no,” you gasped, wiggling under his hold.

“Okay, so don’t hide from me. Let me take care of you.”

Letting go of your wrists, Jungkook got off of the bed. You watched him with confusion that slowly melted into a mixture of anxiety and sweet anticipation as he hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. Falling to his knees, Jungkook let your legs rest on his broad shoulders. You could feel his breath against your skin and it took everything in your power not to begin squirming again when you felt his tongue lick a hot stripe up the inside of your thigh.

“I want you to watch me while I eat you out,” Jungkook murmured, his dark eyes locking with yours as he leaned forward to plant a kiss against your lower lips. “Okay?”

You had no choice but to nod in compliance, propping yourself up on your forearms so you could get a better view even though everything in you was screaming to break your gaze. You could hardly believe it was Jungkook staring at you through his bangs from between your legs. Not to mention you were usually very shy when it came to being sexually pleasured - mostly because it rarely happened. Guys were always expecting you to do them favors, not the other way around. You couldn’t even remember the last time a guy had gone down on you.

But there was no time to be shy when Jungkook abruptly plunged his tongue into your folds. You let out a loud yelp and immediately slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the remaining squeals threatening to slip from your parted lips. Jungkook chuckled at your response and the vibration made your cunt throb.

Still, you kept your gaze locked with his as he lapped up your juices, no matter how dirty it made you feel to have those blown out pupils bore into yours. Your eyes only fluttered when his lips found your clit and began to suck on it while his tongue flicked a steady rhythm against it, the two sensations proving to be almost too much for you to handle. Your breathing became ragged as you felt your abdomen tense up.

“Jungkook,” you whispered a moan, hands gripping the bed sheets so tightly your fingers started to hurt.

“Hmm, baby? You’re gonna have to speak up.” The new nickname made you whimper.

As if to encourage you to find your voice, Jungkook slid two fingers inside of you as he returned to pleasuring your clit. The sudden stretch immediately ripped a strangled moan out of you and your hips involuntarily bucked into Jungkook’s face.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized, but Jungkook only fucked into you harder, expertly curling his fingers at just the right spot to make your legs start to shake.

“Don’t apologize. You can fuck my face all you want,” he lifted his head up to lick his lips, sending you a wink that made your heart stop.

He could sense your orgasm coming soon by the way your walls were clenching around his fingers, but he was determined to make it as mind-shattering as possible. Fitting a third finger inside of you, he continued to suck on your clit, tongue swirling to the rhythm of his fingers.

“Ohh, oh my god,” you sobbed, tears pooling in your eyes as you finally reached your climax. You let out a loud cry, fingers tangled in Jungkook’s hair as you struggled to still your shaking legs.

Licking a final stripe up your lips, Jungkook lifted his head from your thighs and gave you a satisfied grin. He was truly a sight for sore eyes with his mouth soaked in your arousal and his hair a mess from your fingers running through it. You fell flat on your back, legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

“You good?”

“I’m going to die.”

Your eyes were on the ceiling but you heard him laugh and you felt his strong arms lift your legs back onto the bed, adjusting you so you were comfortably in the center of the mattress again.

“Damn, I didn’t realize I was gonna make you tap out so fast,” he teased, lying down beside you. He pressed a kiss against your throat.

“Everyone says you have great head game and I should’ve taken them more seriously.”

“Who says that?!”

You turned onto your side to face him, already rolling your eyes. “Don’t you know the rumors that get spread about you?”

Jungkook gave you a small shake of his head. “I don’t worry about people. I’m only worried about you.”

The warm fuzzy feelings his words gave you were too much for you to bear, so you pushed them away by pulling him closer, crashing your lips into his. Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush up against his chest. You could feel his cock still hard against your leg and it reminded you that this whole situation felt so foreign to you. Never had you been pleasured by a man who expected nothing in return.

“You are art, you know that? A fucking masterpiece,” Jungkook sighed against your lips, pulling away to nuzzle against your neck.

“Jungkook.”

“Yes, baby?” There was that fucking nickname again making your pussy flutter back to life.

Instead of answering him, you reached down to grab his cock. He groaned against your throat as you gave him a few slow pumps. He’d taken care of you just as he’d promised, and now you hoped he’d let you take care of him. Not because you felt obligated to, but because you genuinely wanted to.

Wordlessly, Jungkook rolled you onto your back so that he was hovering over you, his forearms on either side of your head.

“I want you so bad,” he growled against your ear, hips rolling into your open legs.

“What are you waiting for?” you whispered.

“Fuck…”

You blinked and he was no longer on top of you. Instead he was rummaging through the drawer of his nightstand, eventually pulling out a shiny square packet. For someone normally so calm, Jungkook’s fingers were shaking with need as he rolled the condom on.

“Is this okay?” He returned to his position between your legs as you laid on your back. Your heart stung at his thoughtfulness, shocked that he was asking you what position you wanted him in. You nodded, spreading your legs wider for him. Jungkook ran his fingers along the inside of your thighs, his head dipped down so his bangs fell forward, partially obstructing your view of his face.

You gasped when you felt something wet hit your cunt. He’d spit on you. You could feel the extra lubrication slide down your folds and the lewd act made you shiver. Sure, maybe that was fairly tame for some people, but it had your head reeling.

Holding the base of his cock, Jungkook rubbed the tip along your folds, further smearing his spit and your arousal together.

“If you want to stop, just tell me,” he said hoarsely, and that was the warning you got before he was sinking his cock into your entrance.

Despite how relaxed and turned on you felt, the stretch was considerable. You tensed for a moment and Jungkook froze, his eyes meeting yours. With a nod of approval from you, he pushed himself in further, finally bottoming out and holding the position as he waited for you to adjust. You felt so unbelievably full with him inside of you and the pressure of him against your walls was enough to make your legs shake once again.

After giving you a bit of time, Jungkook began to move his hips, starting with slow but long strokes that got increasingly deeper.

“Oh god,” he moaned, head hanging down so he could watch his cock disappear into your cunt over and over again. After a while he lifted one of your legs to rest it on his shoulder so he could adjust his angle to thrust into you that much deeper, and the next slam of his body into yours that had his cock make direct contact with your g-spot made you scream.

“Shit, Y/N, Yoongi’s gonna kill us if you keep screaming like that,” Jungkook said with a grin that very much made it seem like he wouldn’t mind dying for such an offense.

“You… just feel s-so g-good,” you cried out, your nails clawing at Jungkook’s arms as you searched for something to hold on to.

He couldn’t possibly have been concerned considering he only thrusted into you even harder. The thing about Jungkook, though, was that he was going hard but he was going slow. He was savoring every time he slid into you, savoring the glisten of his cock as he pulled out. Turning his head to the side, he kissed the leg he’d draped over his shoulder, one hand running down the smooth skin while his other held on tightly to your hip to keep you in place.

“Fuck, yes baby,” Jungkook groaned. He pressed his fingers against your mouth, gently prying your lips open to stick his thumb in your mouth. The action surprised you, but you obediently sucked on his thumb until he was pulling away again. Reaching between you, he pressed his now wet thumb against your clit and began rubbing circles as he fucked you.

You whined at the sudden stimulation, your walls fluttering around his cock as your breathing turned into panting. “I’m gonna…” you let out another moan, your walls clenching around Jungkook’s cock. “I’m gonna come again.”

“That’s right, come on my cock for me, baby. Let go for me.”

How could Jungkook make dirty talk sound so alluring? So supportive? It was just like his writing, a gentle lullaby of filth. From the look he’d given you earlier, you knew there was a less tame side of him you’d yet to tap into. The memory of his poem flooded your mind, daring you to take things a step further… she likes to wear my hand as a choker...

Reaching out, you grabbed the hand that was holding onto your hip and brought it to rest on your neck. You saw that same wild look flash in Jungkook’s eyes once again, and you knew the action had affected him because his thrusting faltered for a moment. With your lips slightly parted, you tilted your head back slightly to expose more of your throat for him. Jungkook wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a sight more beautiful.

“Shit, you keep acting up like this I’m gonna fall in love,” he grunted, biting down hard on his bottom lip as he opened up his palm to get a firm grip on your neck. As he resumed his rhythmic thrusting, he squeezed your throat. At first, the decrease in oxygen had you gasping in your body’s natural drive for self-preservation. Once your body and mind adjusted, though, you succumbed to the way your body tingled with excitement. When you moaned, your eyes fluttering and rolling back, Jungkook applied even more pressure.

You’d never imagined you’d have another orgasm somewhere inside of you so soon after the first, but you were convulsing around Jungkook’s cock just as he asked you to, calling out his name in the sweetest song.

It wasn’t long before his thrusts became sloppier and his grip on your throat became almost too tight. The string of profanity he growled in your ear as he came made you shiver. Was it really possible that you affected him so deeply?

Jungkook hovered over you for a moment, attempting to catch his breath.

“I think that’s the hardest I ever came in my life,” he said weakly, finally mustering up enough strength to pull himself out of you. He left the bed to throw away the soiled condom, you musing at his cute little butt as he sauntered away.

“You’re welcome,” you said with a grin, though the hoarseness of your voice startled you. You pressed your hand against your throat and winced, not because your throat hurt, but because of the way Jungkook looked at you with deep concern.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked softly, climbing into bed beside you.

“Please,” you sighed, snuggling against Jungkook’s chest. “You did me too good.”

“I’ll fucking do you again, too, if you don’t stop rubbing your thighs against me,” he murmured in your ear, causing you to chuckle lightly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A loud knock on the door made you jump, your arm instinctually covering your chest though you knew Jungkook had locked the door.

“What the fuck,” he whispered, silently willing whoever it was to go away.

The knocking continued, this time a bit more aggressively.

“Open up, bro, the light’s on. I know you’re in there,” Taehyung complained from the other side of the door. “You’ve still got my pen.”

Your eyes grew wide as you looked at Jungkook.

With a groan, Jungkook got out of bed once again. Grabbing the basketball shorts you’d been wearing, he pulled them on and snagged Taehyung’s vape pen from where it sat atop his dresser. He didn’t bother to put a shirt on or fix his sex hair.

“Wait,” you whispered. “What about me?”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Jungkook spoke at a normal volume as if to demonstrate how serious he was about not caring if Taehyung saw you there.

“Seriously, JK?” Taehyung clearly thought Jungkook’s comment had been directed towards him.

You quickly grabbed Jungkook’s t-shirt and pulled it on seconds before Jungkook swung the bedroom door open.

You watched Taehyung’s eyes slowly scan over Jungkook’s appearance. His mouth twisted as though he were about to speak, but then he locked eyes with you where you still sat in Jungkook’s bed, probably looking just as fucked out as Jungkook did.

“Here.” Jungkook dropped the vape in Taehyung’s open palm. “Need anything else?”

Taehyung’s eyes made their way back to Jungkook and whatever snarky comment he’d been prepared to make before was now gone.

“Nah, that’s it, thanks.”

After a week of being exclusive with Jungkook, you felt the need to loop your roomates into the whole situation. Courtney and Amiriah were your best friends, after all. The three of you had been your own Golden Trio since day one freshman year, ending up in the same peer mentor group. The first time you’d all hung out together you’d gone to an off-campus frat party. Barely an hour in and Courtney had been throwing her guts up right into the pool. Needless to say, the three of you had never gone back to that house. As horrifying as it was, you felt like it painted the perfect picture of your relationship. You were all in it for the long haul, no matter how messy.

But now you had to tell them you were dating the weird guy.

You kept looking at your phone, checking the time. The two should have been out of their sorority meeting by now, which meant they could arrive at your dorm at any moment. Waiting was nerve-racking. You gnawed on a hangnail, only pulling your gaze from your phone when you felt Jungkook’s strong arms wrap around your waist. He pulled you into his lap on the couch and leaned into you, lightly brushing his lips along your neck, making you shiver.

“Why do you act like you’re having me meet your parents?” he asked with a small chuckle.

“Courtney and Amiriah are important to me,” you started, trying to find the correct words to explain your friends. “They’re also really… judgmental, but because they care about me. And they don’t trust men.” Which was fair. You did your best to look out for them as well.

Jungkook hummed in response but didn’t speak. That didn’t surprise you. A man of few words, you knew he liked to have time to decide how he felt or what he wanted to say about things.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you announced, standing up. Jungkook nodded and leaned back into the couch. Was it a good thing that he didn’t seem nervous?

Of course the moment you entered the bathroom, Courtney and Amiriah came bustling through the front door. Their loud chatter quickly halted when their eyes fell upon Jungkook lounging on your couch, legs spread and tattooed arm draped across the back of the couch.

“Hey,” he greeted them with a grin and a nod of his head.

“Oh, um, hi?” Courtney’s greeting was more of a question.

“Where’s Y/N?” What Amiriah wanted to ask was how he even got into your dorm, but she didn’t want to be rude.

“I’m here!” You shuffled into the room, giving your friends a little wave. “Jungkook wanted to hang out here for a change.”

The boy quirked his eyebrow at you and gave you an amused smile, noticing how you’d made it sound like it was his idea when it most certainly had been yours. Not that it bothered him. If anything, he wanted you to deflect onto him. He’d told you he could take anything you needed to give him, and he’d meant it.

Jungkook got up from his seat and walked over to the three of you, hands in the front pockets of his jeans. The pose made his biceps and chest more prominent, and you couldn’t help but stare for a moment. God, he was too pretty.

“I feel bad it’s the first time I’m finally meeting you,” he said in a warm voice. “Y/N never shuts up about how great you two are. Pretty sure I’ve heard the story of The Great Edible Debacle at the Dolph concert about fifty times.”

You were shocked by how charming he was being. Really laying it on thick.

“That is a horrible story to be telling people, Y/N! What the fuck,” Amiriah said with a laugh. “We’re only a little bit insane.”

“And stupid,” Courtney chimed in.

The four of you continued your bantering as you lounged around the living room, snacking on some food your roommates had brought as leftovers from their sorority meeting. Jungkook fit into the conversation rather neatly, talking a lot more than you’d expected, but still knowing when to sit back and let the girls dominate the conversation. He sat with his arm around your waist, keeping you close but not dipping into any PDA, knowing it would bother you if he did.

The conversation came to a pause when Jungkook’s phone began to ring, all three pairs of eyes pointed in his direction.

“Ah, fuck. Tae’s calling me,” he mumbled. “I’ll be right back.” As he stood up, he cupped your face for a moment, running his thumb across your cheek before he was bringing his phone to his ear.

“Hyungie, what’s up?” Jungkook stepped out into the hallway, closing the front door behind him.

“Girl, are y’all fucking?!” Amiriah leaned forward with a harsh whisper, excitement dancing in her bright eyes.

“We’re dating, actually.”

Courtney let out a squeal, bouncing on her knees where she sat on a pillow on the floor, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. “I knew it, I totally knew it.”

“I’m gonna admit, weird or not, that man is foine now that I’m seeing him up close.” Amiriah loudly sucked her teeth and shook her head. “He’s got that snatched little waist. And those thighs? He could smash a watermelon.”

“Okay, okay, but we gotta ask the REAL question here.” Courtney was now plopping down on the couch between you and Amiriah, blanket still in tow. “Did he eat it right?? In the words of Nicki Minaj, do he got good form??”

You slapped Courtney on the arm in protest, but you were grinning as you spoke. “I almost started crying, it was so good.”

“WHEW girl, stop it,” Amiriah grabbed your arm and shook it. “Are you willing to share? For charity?”

Before you could scold your friend for trying to get her hands on your man, Jungkook returned. The shift in the room’s atmosphere was palpable, and the way Courtney and Amiriah watched Jungkook with new interest was almost too obvious.

He gave you a confused smile as he squeezed onto the couch next to you.

“So, Jungkook,” Amiriah began and you prayed to God she wouldn’t say anything stupid. “You said you heard stories about us, but we didn’t talk about all the fun things we’ve heard about you!”

You shot your friend a glare but she was already on a roll with Courtney on her heels.

“Yeah, we’ve heard all about your poetry,” Courtney added.

You don’t think your roommates were prepared for the low chuckle that rumbled from Jungkook nor for the dark look in his eyes as he turned to you. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, and you silently pleaded with him to behave.

“Yeah, I was trying to give Y/N a preview of what she could be getting.”

“Jungkook,” you gasped and your friends started talking all at once, but all you could focus on was the way your boyfriend was smirking at you, his tongue playing with his lip ring how he knew you liked.

He leaned into you, his lips ghosting your ear and sending goosebumps up your arms as he whispered,

“Just wait until you come over tonight.”

Drabble 1

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work <3

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #pmn #thanks for 1k 🥺#thanks for 2k 🥺#thanks for 3k 🥺#thanks for 4k 🥺

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eddiemuonson · 7 months

Text

"Rely on You" - Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Summary: You try to keep yourself away from people only to bump into Eddie at the Skull Rock. You end up getting high with him and inviting him over to listen to some music with you. But there's something about you that makes him drop his shield down.

Warning: Sex, safe sex, cursing, fluffiness. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word count: 4.1k

You found yourself a good place to hide in the middle of the forest, the Skull Rock is probably a good spot to find if you wanna be away from everyone.

Not that it wouldn't expect to have people there, but most of the time it's just you, one of your favorite books and your Walkman.

You played your favorite song as you sat down and kept reading the pages. You were too stressed you couldn't be on school's play because it was already full.

You usually spend a lot of time in the nature, but this was one of those days where you wished you could get away from Hawkins for a while.

Not that you were used to staying away from home late, but it wasn't an option to go back to school after experiencing frustration. It was your way of dealing with things.

You decided to lie down on the grass, not caring about any insects around, and let the music turn up.

It was one of the things you liked most and felt pleasure about, being able to be away from the noise and people, listening to the birds chipping and the trees swaying.

Not much time passed, but when you were almost dozing off, you thought you heard a noise nearby, but with the headphones on it was difficult to know what it could be.

The silhouette that approached almost fell back in fright, and Eddie Munson screamed, completely scared. "Jesus, fuck. Shit." The man held his chest with one hand, while carrying some belongings in the other.

Of course he wasn't the only one who was scared, as with the scream and the sudden approach, you were pale as you tried to catch the breath you lost.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, he seemed uncomfortable with your presence. Eddie didn't have many friends and was almost always walking around alone.

Eddie Munson wasn't very fond of people. Especially after receiving several nasty nicknames, as well as dirty looks from other people.

His coldness became a defense mechanism, especially against girls. They were the ones he used to run away from.

He sat down next to the stone and brought a flask to his mouth, sipping the content quickly. You found his question strange, but you didn't care.

“I thought this was a public place?”, you joked and Munson shrugged.

"Geez, next time leave a reminder. I must have had two heart attacks," he replied, exasperated and you rolled your eyes.

"Sorry, I thought Skull Rock wouldn't receive so many people during the day, in the middle of class." You put your headphones away and heard him mumble something.

"Normally not, but I think it's becoming a common thing these days."

The two of you spent too long without saying a word, something that was already bothering your throat. He clearly wouldn't open his mouth to start a conversation, in fact he would never do that. At least he thought.

"Do you smoke weed?" he asked, as he assembled his own roll. His eyes narrowed and the first thing you thought was “where did his shit come from”.

You shook your head, whispering "no", while he remained focused rolling his smoke.

And again the two of you were sitting distinctly far from each other without saying a single word. Eddie wasn't in the mood to talk to you, especially since he only knew you as a classmate and not a friend.

But then again, it shouldn't hurt to smoke once. Eddie noticed when you stood up, approaching him, as he looked at you strangely.

You took the object from his hand, without really knowing how you would do it, and inhaled it. The smoke, at first, burned and you coughed a few times. He laughed, he was already used to the reaction from the first drag.

"You're gonna feel relaxed soon" he said as he inhaled again.

A few minutes later, as he said, you were left feeling like you weren't completely sane. The taste of weed in your mouth left it much drier than you expected.

His calm, low breathing gave you a feeling of fullness. You could see from the corner of your eyes that Munson was already feeling the breeze. But he was already used to it and knew how to deal with the sensation.

Without saying anything, the two of you just enjoyed the weed stone, talking and rambling things that you might not even remember later.

Sitting next to him, you inhaled all the air, filling your lungs and letting it out immediately. Something extremely random came into your mind.

“What’s your favorite shampoo?”, you asked, almost innocently. When he finished the smoke, he was surprised by your question, laughing.

"My shampoo? What kind of question is that?" Munson propped himself up by his elbows at his side, looking asthe sky startedto change colors.

"Eddie, your hair is from like a diva. Yes, what's your favorite shampoo?", you repeated the question and he seemed to think for a moment.

"From a diva? What? It must be from a well-known brand, I know it smells like mint," he explained, being surprised by your sudden attitude of smelling his hair.

By tangling a few strands of hair, you traced your nose along the length. Eddie looked at you with a strange look, but laughed when he realized it was the effect of the marijuana.

A roaring noise brought you both out of a weird trance, and you realized you were starting to get hungry.

"Hey, let's eat. I'm starving!", you gathered your things and waited for him to take his and left.

You had to have smoked something to believe that inviting Eddie Munson to have dinner with you would make sense. Because until then, that guy in front of you avoided any kind of interaction.

The two of you entered a Burger King, catching some people's attention with the way you laughed aimlessly and were distracted by little things.

As you sat down at the table already carrying your snacks and drinks, you didn't wait long to start devouring the food in front of you.

Eddie watched you with amusement, he knew that the first few times of marijuana caused a terrible desire to eat.

"My God, this is the best burger in the world!", you exclaimed in a slightly louder tone than normal, causing curious looks.

Laughing, Eddie agreed, looking closely at the way you focused on enjoying your snack, distracted. He still didn't know why you were also away from the city, in Skull Rock, but he imagined that something might be bothering you.

When the effect wears off, you'll realize that you made the most of your stoned time with Eddie Munson, and your reaction would be a big "what the fuck happened?".

As soon as you two finished eating, you invited him to go listen to some music at your house, since you found out that he liked rock bands and you were also a fan of some that he used to listen to.

When you got home, you were still stoned, the effect of marijuana slightly working its way through your system, as you opened a bottle of wine to share with the metalhead in your company.

The two of you sat at the kitchen island, enjoying the music playing on the radio you turned on.

"So why were you alone?", Eddie asked after a moment of silence, while you both enjoyed the red wine. He looked around your house minutely, noticing every detail.

"Ah, school stuff. It doesn't matter to those who don't care," you made it clear that you didn't want to get into the subject, at least at that moment. "And you?".

Munson downed the wine glass in one gulp before filling it with more liquid. He kept a friendly expression, but deep down, a little bitter.

"Ah, I'm already tired of this Hawkins school. Very superficial people, the guys care a lot about their appearance. I have no patience," the guy explained.

You weren’t as high as you were before, but you agreed with him. You knew that people really were futile, many cared too much about status, so he was right.

"That I agree. I've seen the guys making fun of you sometimes, it's just plain ridiculous. They think they're so important", you say as he agrees with you. He didn't look like someone who would just be an asshole for nothing, he wasn't exactly one after all.

Out of nowhere, as you were just enjoying each other's company, you get up from your stool and you grab his hand, pulling him upstairs as you make your way to your bedroom.

Eddie proclaimed something inaudible as you entered your room and stared at your bass hanging on the wall, covered with its case. The sound coming from his mouth made you look back at him, who was mesmerized at the sight.

"No fucking way you own a bass!", he said as his eyes brightened. He got closer to it and looked back at you. "Can I?".

You nodded and stared at him, who happily and carefully took the bass off the case. Munson seemed too distracted as he trailed his fingers against the object, mumbling words you couldn't hear.

As he sat on your bed and held it closer to him. He's obviously seen one before, especially because he's in a band. But the fact he knows a girl owns one, made his heart flinch. He was a sucker for girls with tastes similar to his.

And it was a fucking Fender Bass, he was definitely dreaming.

"Wanna hear me play it?", you asked as you went looking for your small amplifier and he was still head over heals with you.

"Fuck yeah, I want!", he seemed too carried away. Eddie handed you your bass and you sat next to him. You started playing "Nothing Else Matters" by Metallica and you heard him giggling.

He was definitely enjoying watching you as you played the notes perfectly, you were humming the lyrics so you wouldn't get lost on it.

He started singing the song along with you and you locked eyes, he smiled at the action.

The fact you could play so perfectly even after being high and drinking alcohol made you realize how good it felt to be interacting with someone like Eddie. He was just something else, he was nice, gentle, and he was fun to talk with.

You never realized he was this cool, but you've always knew he was different from the others at school. He didn't give a flying fuck about what they thought of him, he didn't bow down for the guys who would make fun of him.

As you got up from your bed and started playing around your room, Munson kept the rhythm, banging his head as you played the last few notes of the song.

He looked impressed by you, he looked like he was enjoying a private show and he was your groupie.

"That was fucking awesome", he said as you finished the song and rested your bass on your wall.

"You think?". He was still smiling at you and your cheeks flushed.

"That was hot, actually". Munson stared at you as he got closer. "So hot I think I might want to kiss you right now".

The way he said it made your stomach sink inside your body and your skin shivered at the way he was looking at you. It felt intense, but at the same time, there was intimacy somehow.

It didn't honestly feel like he was only doing it for fun, or playing a game with you. But either way, you were a little drunk and your body was feeling hot because of the alcohol.

The actual mixture of the alcohol and the tension between you two started making you feel like kissing him too.

So you did. You did it first, wrapping your arms around him and tip toeing as he was taller than you.

You crashed your lips against his and Eddie wrapped his left arm around your waist as his other one cupped your neck. His frizzy hair smelled like mint, definitely making you short of breath, and his growing beard was gently scratching your skin.

He opened his mouth to explore your tongue and the touch made you groan under him. Munson chuckled slightly as he started twirling his tongue around yours, nibbling on your lower lip.

You tried to focus on the moment, but your thoughts were distracting you from enjoying it entirely, because the way he gently embraced you and kissed you made you feel dizzy.

His smell was going to be stuck on you, his cologne and his smoky Hellfire Club shirt was sticking to you like a magnet. You trailed your hands between his curly hair and it felt like silk, Eddie started to feel his own skin crawl with your touch.

You didn't know if it was right to actually lay down on your bed with him, but at that moment if felt good.

You were slowly pushing him against your bed and he hit the back of his knees on the mattress. Munson broke the kiss only to look at you, he was confused as fuck honestly.

You made him hit his back on your bed as you started to climb above him, smiling. He knew it was okay to be intimate by the way you grinned at him and he pulled you for another kiss.

It was still gentle but this time it had a hint of lust, and the way he pulled your hair against his fingers made you moan.

You weren't much of having sex with guys out there for pure pleasure or just for fun, there was always a feeling behind it. It wasn't like you dated a lot, and at that point, if you dated five people, that was a lot.

But with Eddie something seemed to be different, the energy he transmitted was different. He didn't have malice, he didn't have the ego of a person who just wanted to fuck you and leave afterwards, without talking to you.

You undressed easily because of the alcohol, but you didn't care if it looked like desperation. He stared at you as if you were a monument, your chest rising and falling quickly due to the lack of air from the kiss, the way the bra perfectly covered your breasts made him excited.

You helped him take off his shirt and looked at his chest. He wasn't sculptural, he wasn't spotted, but he was striking, quite striking.

The fervent exchange of glances brought a different energy around you. There was desire there, but it wasn't desperate.

Eddie lifted his torso and kissed you again greedily, his plump lips covering yours perfectly. His agile tongue dancing against yours left you desperate for more. His large but delicate hands rested on your waist as they moved to remove your jeans.

You had to separate from him to take off the piece of clothing, seeing that he took advantage of the moment to repeat your gesture. He never took his eyes off you, not even for a second, to get rid of his pants.

The bubble surrounding you caused a furore, the air was already becoming dense, while the exchange of glances burned against your bodies.

When you lay on top of him again, Eddie didn't want to waste any time, grabbing your ass with both hands, squeezing them with desire.

His mouth against yours made him let out a grunt, as he rubbed his already hard member in his underwear against your core.

It was becoming difficult to breathe, not only because of the kisses, but because of the way you both trailed their hands down your bodies, both waists rubbing against each other.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he hissed as he cupped your ass, grinding against your body. Munson was on the verge of exploding, his body was starting to sweat and he no longer wanted just provocation.

You gave him a long kiss before separating your bodies, looking for a condom on your nightstand. It wasn't like you would ever bring a guy into your room, and even if he was saving some, you already had it in hand.

Gently covering his cock after removing his last piece of clothing, he took the opportunity to try to undo the clasp of your bra, looking at you intensely.

His dick throbbed at your touch, precum already dripping down his skin as you slid the condom down his length.

He trailed his gaze all over your body, while you focused on giving him a few minutes of pleasure by stroking him, before sitting on him.

He was waiting for that, he was grateful that the marijuana had already worn off, because he would have difficulty getting hard.

But when he saw you positioning yourself against his tip, Eddie helped you by holding his dick. You leaned in for a lust-filled kiss, your breasts crushed against his skin and he let out a delirious murmur.

When he placed his tip at your entrance, you hissed against his lips, he had already entered a trance that left him scattered, focusing on your small walls.

Slowly you accommodated yourself on his length, sitting inch by inch until his whole cock was inside you.

You watched as he rolled his eyes back in an act of pleasure, holding your hips tightly, marking your skin with his short nails.

You started slowly riding him as he thrusted against your core, his cock was somewhat thick but not too thick so it would slide perfectly inside you.

"Oh God, Munson", you whined against him. You were still riding him slowly, your walls already clentching each time his tip with your core.

He was on cloud nine at this point, his mumbles coming out of his mouth as he tried to catch his breath.

You kept your pace still, trying to gather every feeling inside you, the way he was thrusting against you holding your hips, and the feeling of his cock inside you was mind blowing. Obviously you've felt like this before, but for some reason it felt ten times better with him.

He was careful, gentle, smooth. He wasn't desperate, he didn't slap your ass only because it was everyone's kink, he didn't curse or used dirty words. It was honestly passionate, and you liked it either way.

As soon as you began to sit on him less delicately and more willingly, your sensitive clit pressed more eagerly against his skin.

In fact, the position brought you more desire, as his tip banged hard against your core.

Eddie was on his own little word as he would groan and hiss every time you pounded against him. His thrusts were getting sloppier each time you rode him faster. One of his hands cupped your breast while the other one was still holding your hip.

"Fuck, this is so fucking good", he slurred against you. You caught him by surprise when your body rolled over him, the movement giving you every kind of pleasure as possible, while his cock matched your rhythm.

The more you rocked, the more sensitive your spot became, and the more Eddie tried to hold back the mumbles he wanted to utter. He was very scandalous, he wouldn't be able to hold back.

You cupped his face against your small hands as you started to trail small kisses on his jawline, cheeks and neck.

You wanted to devour him but this wasn't actually appropriate right now, so you just kep nibbling on his skin.

You could feel a lump on his throat as you kept leaving wet kisses on his skin. Your body was all sweaty and you felt numb for a second when his cock hit one delicious spot inside you.

It made you growl his name, making him stare at you with lust.

"Fuck, don't stop Eddie", you cried. You were both panting, the loud noises of skin slapping against each other filling your bedroom. He pounded on you harder and it hit you again.

He didn't stop his thrusts and kept his pace until he noticed you started melting down on his touch.

A heavy wave of pleasure took your entire body and you started to shiver when your release hit you so hard you had to clench around him.

Munson almost yelled by the way your cunt embraced him as he started to tremble under your body. He gushed inside the condom and you felt his length throb inside you, washing over his protection.

Both of you were still trembling from the orgasm, trying to relax as the pleasure was still taking over your entire body.

He was still inside of you and didn't move an inch, just enjoying the moment before it was definitely over.

"That was so hot", he murmured against your ear, while you remained lying on his chest. You smiled at him, he repeated the gesture, gently grabbing your lips, biting your lower lip.

He thrusted against you suddenly and you grunted, surprised by his action. The pleasure still enveloped both of you and his gesture almost made you want to keep riding him, but you were so sensitive that you no longer felt the strength to continue.

"You're wonderful, Eddie", you said under your short breath and it caught him off guard. He shyly smirked as he pecked your lips.

"You're amazing, (Y/N)", he affirmed, leaving your cunt empty as he looked at you before cleaning himself up. "Next time before this happens, I would like to go on a date with you".

"I'll hold that thought", you joke as you dressed yourself with your underwear and his Hellfire Club shirt.

"Ouch, you just hurt my ego", Eddie played along as he dressed himself as well and you laughed.

You and Eddie lay down on your bed, both still catching your breath after a while. You stared at your ceiling, feeling his warmth close to you.

"Say Eddie, do you usually bring girls over?", you asked curiously.

"Not even if they wanted to", you heard him snort.

"Why not?", you lay on your side and look at his expression. He scrunched his nose to your question but answered anyway.

"Like 96% of this hellhole thinks I'm a freak. So I just don't. They either invite me over or I just find a motel or something".

The way he explained it felt really personal, but you couldn't agree more with him. People usually tend to look at him like he's out of this world.

"This is what makes you more special. Because you're not like them", you stated, gently. He chuckled at your thought, though.

"Yeah, not being like them... that's what makes it worse".

"I thought you didn't care about what they thought".

"I don't. But that doesn't mean I feel welcome everywhere", he sounded bitter. It definitely caught you off guard.

The man who usually wears a shield and uses ignorance as self protection suddenly let his guard off.

You stroked his jawline and he closed his eyes to the touch. You had no idea what you were feeling right now, but it was definitely compassion for him.

He seemed too vulnerable, something he didn't seem to be around other people.

"You're a great person. You should rely on your friends and on the people who care about you". He thinks you're unbelievably drunk as your words hit against his skin.

But the way you look at him says otherwise. You were cherishing him at the moment.

For the past few hours you were with him, you've never felt more comfortable around a guy. Obviously, besides Steve and Jonathan and your other male friends.

He cupped your chin and gave you a wet but honest kiss. It felt like heaven. He just studied your reaction to his kiss and breathed you in.

"You're one of a kind, (Y/N). Thank you for that", Munson said after he parted your lips. He gave you a kind smile and rested his forehead against your small hand.

He seemed pretty lightheaded, he was too overwhelmed by what happened and he really wanted to see you again.

This time, he wanted it to be a proper date, he wanted to get know you better, he wanted to see you play your bass more times. Eddie just wanted to have you around, as he felt like you could be a really great company for him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things #userashe #usermaguire #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut fic

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dearest-painter · 1 year

Note

AHHHH YANDERE AND BULLY 2 OF MY FAV THINGS

can i request yan gray with a darling thats in a gang or they a big himbo (gender is up to you)

it ok if not lol and sry for bad spelling

Omfg yes I can!!! Also your spelling is good!! If you have any more ideas Anon please tell me!!!

Yandere Gary with a Himbo!Male!Reader

Summary:Everyone is in denial of Gary actually being in love with the school’s himbo. They don’t believe Y/N is good for him yet Y/N’s little head is filled with thoughts that Gary fills his head up with to make sure their together.

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Gary himself,Gary being a manipulative piece of shit,mentions of Gary giving Reader hickeys to show reader is his,Gary loves Reader in his own odd way even if it seems like he sees him like an object because he does,Homophobia is mentioned but I do not share the same ideology with that,Threatening,tell me if I need to ass anything more

-Gary saw you with the cheerleaders. The cheerleaders used you as a mannequin for makeup and he was very interested it by it so he waited when you were alone

-He originally made fun of you but the way you didn’t understand he was making fun of you made him think you were stupid which he is right!

-He stuck around you for fun but he didn’t like when people would touch you,talk to you,gift you stuff,or even joke that they were dating you! He got pissed off and Jimmy called him out for liking you.

-He knew he had to manipulate you so he can date you,he also made sure to slowly isolate you. You believed him when he said ‘Everyone just wants to use you but I don’t,you can trust me. I’ll protect you from their dark desires’ or ‘I’ll always be here with you unlike most people. So just stay by me and listen to me and you’ll be safe’ or ‘Your lucky to have me around,if I wasn’t around you,you’d be taken advantage of and used so be happy that I’m even around you!’

-When he finally knew you were mentally vulnerable he confessed. It was out the blue as he didn’t have this grand idea he just asked if you wanted to be his boyfriend. With all the stuff he’s said you said yes as he’s the only person who loves you…right?

-He made sure you two had all the same classes so he can help his stupid boyfriend. “Without me you’d be failing all your class! Aren’t you lucky to have me with you at all times?” “Mhm! Thank you hun! You really help me a lot!”

-You are big into pet names but he barely uses them unless it’s in private or ‘My man’ and that’s all. In private he calls you many pet names that are sweet but also insulting as it’s Gary

-He’s self aware and sadistic but wouldn’t really harm you. He’d only harshly grip your face but you think it’s just fun in games!

-He gives you love bites and hickeys to make sure people know your his,he has his own of course because he does ask you to give him some so that people know you two are a happy couple!

-Jimmy and Petey feel bad because they know your to stupid to know that Gary is toxic.

-Gary threatens people and also attacks people who tries to take you from him. He is very possessive and when you ask why you hurt them all he says is “They wanted to take you away from me and hurt you! I love you to much and wouldn’t allow them to do so!” Which in your eyes is pretty romantic.

-People make homophobic remarks at you two but since your two stupid to understand their being mean Gary puts them in their place.

-Cuddles happen a lot in private,he’s the big spoon but if he’s been extra pissed off and more jealous he’s the little spoon. Don’t you dare tell anyone you two cuddle because he doesn’t want anyone to know

-Overall Gary is an insane piece of shit who loves you in his very twisted and unhealthy ways while making sure you two will get marry.

#yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #gif imagine #x male reader #male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere bully #bully x reader #gary smith x reader #yandere romantic #yandere romance #romantic yandere #himbo!reader #himbo reader

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gretavangroupie · 1 year

Text

Vigilance (Chapter 1)

Word count: 9.8k+

Pairings: Sam Kiszka, Jake Kiszka, Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, angst, fluff.

A/N: This story is a very special collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon. We have been scheming on this one for a while... If you haven't read her stuff, definitely go check it out. If you have, even better! We are taking this one all the way back to the early days, but we will be going into the present, so hold on tight it will be a bumpy ride. Without further ado...

September 2013

You fidget nervously at your desk, waiting to hear who your assigned partner would be for the History project. School only started a few weeks ago, and you had hardly made friends with anyone in your classes yet. There were a few familiar faces that came with you from middle school, but no one that you really considered to be a friend.

High school was different. Everything was much more fast paced, people were louder, and meaner. You spent the last few weeks acclimating to the change of environment and learning your schedule, which brings you to third period History class.

As you listen to your teacher read off the names of the assigned partners you hold your breath as she reaches your name.

“Your partner for the semester is Samuel Kiszka.”

Sam?

He looks over at you and gives you a soft grin. You can barely see his eyes behind his swooping brown hair. You can see the outline of his braces under his lips as he gives you a soft wave in acknowledgement of his assignment. You smile back and nod your head.

You wouldn’t say that you and Sam are friends, but you have known him for a long time. Your parents are best friends with his parents and they have been since highschool. There have been many times that the Kiszka’s would spend New Years Eve at your house, or you at theirs. Fourth of July was always spent at the Kiszka’s and even sometimes Thanksgiving. You grew up around the guys, but you never really saw them outside of the holidays.

When the teacher called out Sam’s name, it was almost a relief. Now you wouldn’t have to spend the entire semester getting to know someone you didn’t choose yourself. You already knew Sam, just superficially.

As the bell for the end of class rang, you collected up your books and zipped them into your backpack. As you stood up, Sam approached your desk, “Hey partner!” he smiled.

Looking up at him nervously, you replied “Hey Sam!”

“I’m kind of glad we are partners,” he said, “I don’t really know anyone else yet.”

“I thought the same thing!” you say, reaching in your bag and pulling out a piece of scrap paper. You quickly scribble your number onto the strip and cap your pen. “Here is my number, so that we can start to plan. Seems like it's going to be a huge project.”

He smiles, and accepts the paper from your fingers. “Cool. I’ll text you later about it. Be thinking of ideas.” he says, nodding his head and walking off.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

Thinking of topics for the project proved challenging. You were tasked with explaining the history of a modern day object. It could be anything. You spent a lot of the day thinking of things that were interesting and had a cool history behind them.

As you sat down at a table for lunch that day you began to unpack the lunch your mom made for you. One or two girls from your previous class sat around you and you talked mindlessly about the pep rally coming up and the football game on Friday. As you zoned out, you noticed Sam. He was sitting at a table with one of his friends who you knew as Danny. They were typical teenage boys, cutting up and cracking jokes. His eyes caught yours and he flashed you a smile, before quickly turning his attention back to Danny. Throughout the rest of the lunch you caught each other's eyes a few more times, but just small glances. He had kind eyes and you could tell he was a good person. Maybe you would get to know him better through this project.

–

That night as you are studying your Economics book to prepare for the test tomorrow, your phone vibrates on your desk.

Unknown: Hey it’s Sam

Oh, that was quick. I half expected him to lose the paper.

You: Hey Sam!

You quickly add his number to your contacts just as he replies.

Sam: Do you have any ideas for the project?

You: Yeah I do! I was thinking maybe we could do something music related since you are all into that now.

Sam: I’d love that, but are you sure?

You: Yeah, it will be fun and easy. Maybe we can do the evolution of the guitar or something?

Sam: That would be awesome. I always knew you were cool.

You: Lol, thanks…

Sam: Do you want to come to my house tomorrow and we can start on it?

You: You don’t have something better to do on a Friday night?

Sam: Nah, just mess around and play music in the garage like usual. Plus if we get this done we don't have to worry about it the rest of the semester.

You: Good point.

Sam: My brother can drive us to my house if your mom will pick you up later?

You: Sounds good!

–

Much of the next day at school is spent researching between classes and checking out library books about guitars, something you know nothing about. By the time the final bell rang you had consumed so much information about guitars that you felt like you could probably play one if you picked it up. As you walked to the Senior parking lot you heard Sam call your name from behind. You turn around to face him and he runs up to you.

“Hey!” he says, out of breath.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” you ask, clutching the stack of library books in your arms..

“Yeah, I think Jake's car is in the back. We are always late in the morning.” he says annoyed.

You shrug your shoulders and smile. His eyes flick down to the books in your arms, “I’ll carry those.” he says, reaching for the stack.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” you reply nervously. You’ve never had anyone offer to carry your books, and you can feel yourself blushing.

“No, no, I insist.” he says, grabbing the hefty stack from your hands.

“Thanks.” you say with a soft smile and he gives you a side smile back.

He starts to walk to the back of the parking lot and once you arrive at the car you see Jake leaning against the car, waiting, and clearly very annoyed. He looks a lot different than you remember him. His hair has grown out and his clothing style has changed.

He cuts his eyes at Sam, “You’re late….” his eyes look down to the books in Sam’s arms. “Carrying her books, a nice touch brother.”

“Shut up Jake.” Sam quips back.

Jake's eyes flash to you, widening slightly as he looks at you. His mouth starts to move as if he is going to say something, but he stops himself and purses his lips together, giving you one last glance as he turns on his heels to get into the car.

You swallow nervously at the awkward exchange, and get into the backseat of the messy sedan. Sam throws his stuff into the back seat next to you and shuts the door, opting for the front seat.

The drive to their house is short and you’re thankful. Something about Jake’s presence is making you uneasy. You have a swirling feeling in your stomach and a dry mouth. This is only further accentuated by his glances through the rear view mirror. He is studying you, but why?

You quickly look away, embarrassed that he caught you looking back. A small smirk crosses his lips. Sam looks at him with a puzzled look before looking away and turning the radio up.

A few minutes later you are pulling into the driveway of their house. A house you have visited many times before, but never without the buffer of your parents. You get out and shut the door, watching Sam and Jake gather their things before joining you on the front porch. Jake unlocks the door and you all pile inside. He looks at Sam and then to you. His eyes linger for just a moment, before he heads upstairs and the bedroom door closes.

“Has he always been this weird and I never noticed?” you jokingly ask Sam.

He gives you a strange look and shakes his head, “I don’t know what his deal is. Sorry about that.”

“Oh I don’t mind, all good.” you say dismissively. But you do mind, and you will be thinking about that look in the car, for the foreseeable future.

You and Sam spend the next several hours spread out on his living room floor, laying out books, papers, articles and notebooks with research and information, trying to create a timeline. You have created a solid outline for the paper portion of the project, but will have to put in more work on the actual poster board set up and model, as well as actually writing the paper. As you finish outlining the final section of the paper, you hear Jake coming down the stairs and you both turn your heads to look at him.

Your blood runs cold when you realize he is shirtless. It feels almost wrong to see him like this. You turn away quickly focusing back on the books in front of you. When he makes his way into the kitchen you release a sigh of relief that you hope Sam didn’t notice. As you continue to work, the image of his bare chest flashes through your brain. You push him away and refocus.

A few minutes later he walks into the living room and positions himself on the couch watching the two of you with a smug look as he scrolls on his phone mindlessly.

“What do you want? Go away.” Sam says aggressively.

“Mom said they will be home late and that I need to ‘supervise’ you.” Jake replies smugly with air quotes.

“Supervise? Supervise what?” Sam asks, practically yelling.

Just as Jake went to answer, the front door flew open. Josh waltzes into the living room loudly announcing his arrival.

“Honey, I’m hooooome!” he exclaims.

He sees you on the floor next to Sam with Jake on the couch, and raises an eyebrow as he hangs his coat on the little metal hook by the door.

He looks over to you with a smile, “Hey! What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in forever! How are you liking highschool?” he asks. He has always been the more talkative one of the twins. He always made a point to have a conversation with you at every gathering, Jake not so much.

“Hey Josh! We are partners for History class this semester. We are working on our project. And… highschool is highschool. Nothing to report just yet.” you reply with a laugh.

“Well give it time, good to see you!” he says, bounding up the stairs.

You look over to Sam who shrugs his shoulders and you can't help but feel Jake's eyes burning into the side of your head.

“Do you mind if I get a glass of water?” you ask Sam.

“No go ahead.” he says, continuing to write the thought he was having, down onto the paper.

You stand and make your way into the kitchen, opening the cabinet that you know you’ll find the glasses in, and walking over to the fridge.

You open the door to grab the pitcher and pour the cold water into the glass. As you shut the door you are shocked to find Jake standing a few feet away leaning against the counter.

Your eyes widen as they connect with him. Your eyes travel the length of his body up and down, taking in the changes that have happened since the last time you saw him. Suddenly you are seeing him in a whole new way. The glow of the fluorescent lights casting a soft shadow on the dips and curves of his abs. His shaggy brown hair hangs in his eyes as he crosses his feet. He is…attractive. Not something you would have ever thought you would think about a Kiszka boy. Having practically grown up together you thought you would always just see them as brothers. That is apparently not the case.

You realize that you are staring and quickly look away, only to hear him chuckling under his breath. You take a drink out of your glass and nervously walk over to the sink. Your heart is beating fast at your sudden realization of how your body is reacting to his presence.

He walks over and leans his upper body onto the counter next to you. “Why’re you breathing so heavy?” he asks with a smug grin.

“Drank too fast.” you reply, looking up at him.

“Hmm.” he says, pushing off the counter and walking back into the living room.

You set your glass in the sink and just stare at it for a second.

Oh god, he totally knows.

Returning to the living room, you rejoin Sam on the floor and continue to work. About an hour later the doorbell rings.

“Oh yeah, Mom ordered pizza.” Jake says, getting up to answer the door. He collects the boxes and tips the driver before walking to the kitchen.

“You hungry?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I could eat.” you reply with a smile.

He smiles back and extends his hand to help you off of the floor. You make your way into the kitchen and stand around the island as Jake takes plates out of the cabinet.

“Hey can you go tell Josh there's food?” Jake asks Sam.

Sam rolls his eyes and trudges up the stairs. You swallow thickly, realizing you are yet again left alone with Jake. He opens the box and looks up at you.

You immediately look down at your hands and again you hear him laugh.

“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask in an annoyed tone.

“Doing what?” he replies.

“Waiting for me to look at you and then laughing when I look away.” you respond.

He gives you a side smile, “Because…you get all nervous and blush. It’s cute. I think you have a crush on me.”

“No I don’t!” you reply with a bright red face.

“It’s okay if you do. I wouldn’t be mad.” he replies, handing you an empty plate with a smug look.

Before you can say anything, Sam and Josh bound into the kitchen and are so loud that it breaks the tension between you and Jake.

Thank god.

As Josh and Sam begin to tear into the boxes, Jake raises his voice, “Hey!” and everyone stops and stares at him. Returning his voice to a normal tone he continues, “Ladies first guys, come on.”

If your face were any more red you would turn into a tomato. You quickly walk over and grab 2 slices, and find a seat at the table. You sit just staring at your plate trying to process everything that just happened.

How does he know I think he’s cute?

Why didn’t I deny it again? Now he probably thinks it’s true!

The rest of the guys join around the table and begin their conversations. Jake is sitting across from you and you have done remarkably well not looking at him one time. You can tell he notices too.

As Josh asks about your History project, Sam starts to explain your selected topic. As you listen in on all of the research he is talking about you feel something slide across your foot, and you instantly know what it is. You face flames red again and you see a small, hardly noticeable smile cross Jake's lips.

You pull your leg back so that the contact is lost. Josh asks you what you know about guitars and you tell him that you know absolutely nothing about them. You have never even held one. You grab your glass of water taking a sip as Josh responds.

“You know, Jake could probably teach you a few things if you were interested.” he says, and you nearly choke. The water has slipped past your throat in just the wrong way.

You feel his foot slide across the side of your ankle, and you try to gain your composure.

“Yeah, you just call me if you’re interested.” he says with a side smile.

You know his words mean something different than what Josh intended and your heart starts to beat quickly as his eyes stare into yours.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, you feel his foot twisting with yours trying to get your attention but you do your best to ignore him. What does he want from me anyways?

You all finish up and pile your plates in the sink and you and Sam return back to the living room to keep working. Josh and Jake are in the kitchen cleaning up as the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” Sam yells out, and he walks to the door, opening it to reveal Danny.

You knew Sam and Danny were best friends, they had been since school started a few weeks ago. They were always together.

“Crap, I forgot to text you. I’m trying to get this History project done so we don’t have to worry about it.” he says, letting Danny in the door.

“Hi Danny.” You say standing up to greet him. He returns the hello and turns back to Sam, “I can go. No big deal.”

Sam looks conflicted, and turns to you, “Do you think we have done enough for today?” he asks. You can tell he doesn’t want Danny to leave.

“Yeah, I think we have a really good head start. I just need to text my mom to come get me, and I’ll be out of your hair.” you say pulling your phone from your pocket.

“Well, we are just gonna play some music in the garage, you can stay if you want to?” he says.

“Oh, it’s Friday night, I don’t want to intrude on your plans…” you say.

Jake comes into the living room from around the corner, “Think of it like research for your project. Need to see one in action if you’re gonna try and write about it, right?” he says with a smirk.

Smooth…

You look at Sam who is shrugging and nodding his head in agreement.

You bite your lips inward and turn back to Jake, “Okay, just for a little bit. I do want to see you play – I mean, I want to see all of you play – I didn’t mea–” you stammer, stumbling over your words. You actually aren’t sure what you meant, but you think it was probably close to the first thing.

“Cool…” he replies with a smug grin.

Jake places a hand on your shoulder and lets it slide across the top of your back as he makes his way upstairs. You shove your phone back into your pocket and take a deep breath.

“You can follow us out the garage, but grab your jacket, there’s no heat.” he says, waving his hand to follow after him.

You follow him and Danny out the side door and into the stand alone garage at the end of the gravel path. He turns on the fluorescent lights that start to buzz as they warm up. You see a drum kit, a bass and an electric guitar all hooked up to amps and you turn to look at Sam, “When did all this happen? This wasn’t here last time I was here!” you ask, surprised.

“We kinda got serious about it over the summer. We are gonna try and make a go of it I think. We have some songs worked up, and Danny is our new drummer.” he answers. You sit down on the old faded red couch and cross your legs. A few minutes later the door opens and Jake and Josh come in to join you. Josh sits next to you on the couch as Jake throws the guitar strap over his shoulder. He has on a hoodie now, but that doesn't stop you from picturing how he looked in the kitchen earlier. Almost as if he knew what you were thinking a smile flashed across his lips as he turned on the amp. Hearing his guitar roar to life you feel a spark travel through you. He is so concentrated and the way his hands are moving across the strings is bringing back that swirling feeling from earlier. He is in his element, and he wanted you to see it.

For the next hour they played to an audience of just you, Josh eventually getting up to join them for a few covers. You didn’t even know Josh could sing. You’re actually glad you stayed. They sound good, better than you expected, and it's nice to actually be doing something other than homework on a Friday night.

Bouncing your foot along with the music you look at each of the guys, examining their hands and the movements they are making to create the sounds you are hearing. You find your gaze fixed upon Jake and his hands, far longer than any of the others. When you realize and look up you see his eyes trained on you, watching you just as intently as you were watching him. He nods his head in a come here motion, and you reel back slightly. What?

“Come here,” he speaks out.

You stand nervously and approach him. He slings the guitar strap over his head before placing it over your shoulder. It hangs heavily around your neck, as he smiles. “Okay, grab the neck,” he says, picking up your hand and placing it on the frets, “and this arm…” he says, pulling it through the strap, “Rests here. There, now you have held a guitar.” he smiles.

The feeling of his hands on your body in any capacity is enough to send your nervous system into overdrive. You feel like you might faint, but quickly reel it in. He walks around to the front of the guitar and places your fingers on the strings in a specific pattern.

“Okay, hold those there. It might hurt a little but it will go away.” he says, pulling the dark green guitar pick out of his teeth and handing it to you. “Okay take this and strum the strings.”

You do as he says and the note rings out. A smile crosses your face and his. You cant help but notice the shine in his eyes. A look of pride.

“Hey! You did it! You’ll be replacing Jake in no time!” Josh jokes from his stool. You look over to Sam who has an annoyed look on his face.

“Jake, isn’t your girlfriend coming over or something…” Sam asks pointedly.

Jake doesn’t answer, but he steps backwards from you, realizing the way things must look.

Your eyes flick back to him and you notice his face is red and you try to break the tension, “Thanks, I feel like I am definitely qualified to write about this now.” you joke, removing the strap from around your neck and handing the guitar back to him. Your hand brushes his in the exchange and you feel that spark again.

As you make your way back to the couch you pull your phone from your pocket and send a quick text to your mom letting her know she could come pick you up. You spend the next twenty minutes watching them play and goof around with different songs. When she texts you that she is here, you stand up and zip your coat to prepare to leave.

“Are you going?” Jake is the first to ask, and you see a look cross his face that must be embarrassment that he has come across eager.

“Yeah, my mom is here, so I need to get my things from inside.” you say.

“I’ll walk you inside.” Sam says, quickly throwing his bass onto the stand. You see Jake's mouth open, but he closes it and steps back biting his cheek.

What was he going to say?

“Thanks for letting me stay and hang out with you guys! Can’t wait until you’re headlining an arena some day” you laugh, waving at all of them and stepping over the threshold of the door. You close the door gently behind you peering through the pane of glass to see Jake giving you his own version of goodbye with his eyes.

As you lay in your bed that night the memory of your impromptu guitar lesson played through your head, closely followed by a pair of piercing brown eyes willing you to stay just a little longer. Against your will and better judgment you fall asleep that night thinking about Jake Kiszka.

The next several Fridays were spent at the Kiszka house. Your parents were thrilled that you had formed a friendship with the guys and his parents had extended an open invitation for your welcome into their home whenever you wanted. Fridays turned into Saturdays which turned into going to hangout with Sam most days after school. You and Sam had become extremely close friends, even after the project was all said and done Freshman year. You and Sam even went to prom together Junior year. At a certain point you thought Sam might have feelings for you, but when you started dating Michael Carvey later that year, that suspicion went away. By summer of Senior year, Michael was but a passing memory and you and Sam were closer than ever. Their band actually had taken off. They were on the path to even record an EP. You had never been happier for them. You had seen first hand just how hard they worked to get there. You even helped Sam pass Calculus so that his parents would let him go play bar gigs in Detroit til 2AM. He was your best friend, and you would do anything for him. You just wanted to see him succeed, and he was.

While Sam never truly came out with his feelings for you after Michael, you knew. He knew. It was unspoken. You spent practically all of your time with him, but you didn’t feel that way about him. But what he didn’t know, and what you could never tell him was why. It would ruin your friendship. It was Jake, and it had been since that day in the garage. You thought that he was just your first real crush, and that when you had a boyfriend that feeling would go away. But it didn’t. Throughout the years it was a look here, or a touch there. He would say or do something, anything to keep you hanging on and it worked. You both knew it. But you also both knew nothing could ever come of it. You couldn’t do that to Sam. As the years passed you grew distant from Jake as he and Josh went off to college. You and Sam grew closer and now Senior year was drawing to a close.

May 2017

“Hello?” you answered your phone.

“Hey… did they tell you?” Sam asked.

“Who? Tell me what?” you ask.

“Our parents think they are sneaky and are throwing us a surprise Graduation party” he says with a sigh.

“Oh, well I guess it's not a surprise now, huh?” you laugh.

“I hate surprises!” he says, “I only found out because I heard my mom talking to Josh on the phone.”

“Oh, is Josh coming home for this?” you ask, knowing that if Josh was going, Jake wouldn’t be too far behind.

“Yeah I think they both are. Lucky us…” he says in an annoyed tone.

“Yeah, well, let's just get through the actual graduation before we worry about the party, okay?” you ask.

“Alright, talk to you later.” he says hanging up.

You throw your phone onto your bed and bring your hand to your chest.

You haven't seen Jake in months. A feeling of anxiety washes over you at the thought. You have kept up with him on social media but he hasn’t been home when you’ve gone to hang out with Sam lately. They just finalized their EP and he and Josh have been in Detroit working on the tour schedule. You got into U of M for the fall term and you are so excited you can hardly wait. Sam decided against college, following after Jake. He wants to see where the band will take him, knowing that if he decides to stop the band, college will still be an option. You disagree with his choice, but he is your best friend and you will support him with whatever he decides. Danny did the same, shortly followed by Josh dropping out of U of M. Jake only attended the first year of college, deciding that his band was his dream. They were going to make it, you just had a feeling.

A few days later as you are putting on your graduation dress, you stop and look at yourself in the mirror. You remember standing in this exact spot the day you started highschool, wondering who you would be, and what you would look like in four years. A lot has changed since that moment. You have filled out, become more of a woman than a young girl. You are smart, 5th in your class. You have a partial scholarship to your top choice college and a whole bright future ahead of you. You have had a few boyfriends, a few different hair styles and a few friends come and go. But one thing has remained constant in those passing four years. The forbidden and undeniable tug in your heart for Jake.

You stand up pushing the thought from your mind as you grab your cap and gown and head downstairs to meet your parents. They think they have pulled a fast one on you with this whole surprise party, and you let them believe it. You know they are going to miss you terribly when you leave for college.

Hours later as you strut across the stage to accept your diploma, you notice a face in the crowd that tugs on that heartstring once again. You wondered if he would be here. He looks different now, his hair longer, grown out to the tops of his shoulders. His face more structured and defined, his eyes somehow darker and more brooding. His lips, more plump and inviting.

Stop, this is not his moment.

As the Principal hands you your diploma you exit the stage and take your seat. You are proud of your accomplishments and who you have become, and you find yourself wondering if he is too.

As you pull into the driveway at the Kiszka house, you see cars lined up all up and down the streets, in typical Kiszka fashion they have invited the whole town. As your family makes their way inside everyone rushes towards you and congratulates you on your achievement. You spend the next 20 minutes greeting everyone and thanking them for coming and for all of their support over the past few years. As your parents get tangled up in conversation you make your way to the kitchen to see if you can sneak yourself a drink. As you step into the kitchen he's there. Standing. Waiting. Almost as if he knew this would be your first stop. A soft side smile crosses his face as he extends a red solo cup to you. You smile and take it, taking a sip and you nearly choke.

“What in the world is this?” you say disgusted.

“A little bit of everything. You better get used to it, college girl.” he says playfully.

You roll your eyes with a smile and take another sip, knowing it's only a matter of time until you’re whisked away by another family member.

“I didn’t think you would come. Haven’t seen you in a while.” you say casually.

“You thought I would miss this?” he asks, almost as if you’d hurt him.

“I don’t know… You have just been busy, with the EP and all…” you trail off.

He pushes off the counter and looks behind him, before bringing a hand to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheek bone. He pauses for a second, just looking at you.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says, his hand sliding off your face, and down your arm. His fingertips graze yours as he turns and walks away.

JAKE POV

You had to go. You had to get out of there. You walk out of the kitchen, the smell of her perfume still lingering in your nose. You can smell it on your hand. The hand that touched her perfectly soft face, just seconds ago. You knew if you stood there for one second longer it would be over. Everything you have fought for years, gone in an instant. You would kiss her, and it would ruin everything. So instead you left her there, with the only thing that you could force out of your mouth.

‘You’re so beautiful.’

And god, was she. That was just the tip of the iceberg. She always was. Even that day so long ago, sprawled out on your living room floor next to Sam. You haven't let that day slip from your mind even once. She was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen. You felt compelled to be near her. You couldn’t stay away.

It’s been four years, and with each passing day you watched her change and grow and turn into the beautiful woman that was standing in front of you, and even after all this time and everything that has happened between you, you still can’t have her.

You remember the day Sam told you that he liked her. It was just a few short weeks after that night in the garage. You were crushed, but he could never know that. You knew you could never have her, simply because he wanted her. She was his best friend. It was forbidden. So you watched from afar, wishing it was you laughing with her on the phone each night. Texting her the funny things that happened in your day, or just hanging out and going to movies together. Anything with her. But it wasn’t you. It was Sam. The worst part of it all, was knowing she didn’t feel the same for him, and trying to help him see it himself.

You both knew it would never be more than stolen glances, and secrets. Even if you both wanted it. There would always be Sam.

Stepping back into your bedroom you shut the door, and walk over to your dresser. You open the tiny wooden box on top and dig out the joint you rolled earlier in the day, thanking yourself for thinking ahead. You put it in the front pocket of your shirt, along with a lighter. You close the box and glance over to the card sitting on your desk. You have been debating on whether or not you were going to give it to her all day. You look away and walk back to the door, twisting the knob and leaving the room.

The party is starting to die down, a lot of your parents' friends have already left, but a few linger still. You join your siblings and friends in the basement, knowing that she will be down there. You run your fingers through your hair quickly, and take a deep breath as you head down the steps. Everyone is hanging out, lounging on the couches and chairs, even a few people are spread across the floor. You see her on the couch next to Sam and you look away as you go to sit next to Josh on the floor. He is right in the middle of telling a story in his usual overly animated style. You never really understood how he did that. You were never good at storytelling.

You lean back on your arms and cross your legs in front of you. You look around the room and your eyes meet hers. She bites her lip into her mouth as she looks at you. You wished she wouldn’t do that. You find yourself thinking of how her lips would feel between your own teeth. It wouldn’t be the first time you thought of it, however. Her eyes dart away from yours as Sam begins to speak.

Your eyes move down her body, focusing on the light reflecting off of her bare legs. They look so smooth, they are practically shining, even in the dim lighting of the basement. You force yourself to look away, and start a side conversation with Josh, but the whole time all you think about is her and how she looked at you in the kitchen. How she has always looked at you.

You have purposefully stayed away from her for the past few months. You couldn’t trust yourself, and you have thankfully been busy with the EP and planning the tour. You have spent a lot of time in Detroit and have scarcely been home. But that didn't mean you weren’t thinking of her. She was always there.

Everytime you would come home you would hope she was there hanging out with Sam, just wanting one glance from her to hold you over another few weeks. But she wasn’t. So when your mom called and asked if you could come home for Sam’s graduation, you didn’t hesitate to jump in your car and head home immediately. You knew she would be there, and here she was, even more beautiful than the last time you saw her.

Knowing that you needed to get her out of your head you stand up and walk back upstairs, making your way to the back porch. You position yourself on the old wicker patio set in the corner and pull the tightly rolled joint from your shirt pocket.

Placing your feet on the table in front of you, you block the wind and light the end of the joint.

Taking a long drag you breathe in as deeply as your lungs can take and let it slip slowly past your lips.

You tilt your head back onto the chair and stare up at the night sky, counting each star and trying to pick out the patterns you recognize. A smile crosses your face as you find the little dipper. It always makes you think of her. Her sophomore year, Fourth of July. You pointed it out to her. Somehow she had never seen it. It was the first time you held her, trying to position her the right way to be able to see it. You never wanted it to end. Her hand gripped yours tightly when she saw it, it was perfect. Ever since that night you always think of her when you see it. You can always find it. It’s always there. Just like her, in your heart.

A low rumble sounds through the house as you hear Sam and Danny playing around with a guitar in the basement. Typically you would join in, but tonight you are perfectly fine right here staring up at the stars imagining what if. Just far enough away to clear your mind but still close to her. You can feel her near you. After a few minutes you hear the door open and tilt your head to see who it is. You sit up a little when you see that it's her. You knew she would come looking for you. She always does and you’re always waiting.

She walks over and sits in the chair next to you crossing her legs on the table just like yours. You both just look at each other, no words needed to be said. This was a familiar occurrence between the two of you. Many times over the years you have found yourself in this exact spot sharing a joint together, each time as if no time has passed at all. No talking, just being together, existing in the same space. But tonight was different.

Your eyes flick to hers, and you pass it to her, her nimble fingers taking it from yours. You watch as she presses the paper to her lips inhaling and closing her eyes as she tilts her head back to look at the sky, much in the same way you just were. The smoke billows from her lips and you watch her chest rise and fall. The moon is bright, not a single cloud to dull its shine as it glows across her skin. You swallow thickly as you try to stifle the situation in your jeans. She passes it back to you, and you press it to your lips, knowing that the shared saliva on the tip is the closest you’ll ever get to tasting her.

“Jake?” she finally speaks up.

You turn your head to face her, involuntarily almost. Your body is betraying you. “Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” she asks nervously.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“In the kitchen, when you said…” she trails off.

You let a soft smile cross your face, “Yeah I meant it. You are beautiful. You always have been and I’m so proud of you.” you confess reaching your hand out to run your fingers over the small stretch of skin on her arm. You see her face soften and it takes every ounce of your strength to not kiss her right then.

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol, the weed or both, but you got brave and now the truth is out.

“I’m proud of you too, you know.” she says, taking the joint back from your fingers. She takes a pull of it and hands it back. “I’m proud of all of you of course, but you… it’s different. The EP is so good. People love it and I know why… it came from here.” she says gently, placing her hand over your heart. The electrifying sensation zapping through your body just as quickly as her hand pulled away. Your hand instinctively reached for the spot hers was just in, before you could even realize.

The music inside is growing louder and you can hear Josh starting to sing. They will be down there for a while. If you’re going to do it, it has to be now.

“Hey, stay here, I have to get something. I’ll be right back.” You hand her the quickly dwindling joint and sprint upstairs to find the card you wrote her. There it sits on your desk, waiting and hoping to be opened. You grab it and shove it into the back pocket of your jeans before you make your way back downstairs and back onto the porch. Your heart is pounding as you rejoin her. You can tell that she is feeling the effects of the weed, as she is not trying to avoid eye contact anymore. Her eyes are locked in on your every movement.

You pull the blue envelope out of your pocket and nervously hand it to her. Her brow furrows and she accepts it, reading her name across the front in your messy handwriting.

“Jake…” she says, pulling the card out of the envelope.

“Just open it…” you say nervously.

Her eyes shoot up when she opens the card and notices it. You feel like your heart stops beating for a second as she realizes what it is. You let out a silent breath as you see the corners of her lips turning upward into a smile.

Taped inside the card was a small green guitar pick. The same one you used that night in the garage. The one you have carried with you everyday since.

“Jake you kept this?” she asked, rhetorically.

“I’ve had it with me everyday. Kept it in my wallet. I know it’s stupid… I just…” you stammer.

“It’s not stupid Jake… but why are you giving it to me, you’ve kept it all this time…” she asks, confused on why you would give her something you’ve kept for so long.

Your face turns a dark crimson as you tell her the reason, “Well, I have carried that with me everyday for four years, like… a little piece of you was always with me. Now, I want you to have it. Carry a piece of me… with you. So you don’t forget me when you go away. You have always been my first pick, here’s your proof.” you say nervously.

She looks down, her eyes filled with tears, and smooths her pointer finger over the pick. She closes the card and her eyes flick up to yours. They are different, sad, but dark. She places the card on the table and stands up, walking to lean against the railing that overlooks the ravine next to your childhood home.

You stand and join her, feeling like you have messed up. Like you shouldn’t have said that.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset yo–” you are cut off as her hands cup your jaw, and finally after years of dreaming about it, you feel her lips pressed against yours. Your hand finds its place on the back of her neck, pulling her closer into you as your other hand meets the small of her back.

It’s heaven, ecstasy, pure bliss, any beautiful and mind blowing word you could conjure would never be able to explain the feeling coursing through your veins. You can feel every emotion that neither of you could ever explain, being described perfectly as your lips meld with hers. Her soft, perfect lips. Everything you’ve ever wanted.

She pulls away, far too soon. Your body is still gravitating to hers. Her hands release your face and smooth down the front of your chest, before pulling away. You can tell than neither of you wanted it to end. But you both knew it had to. At least you had this. This one perfect moment with her.

She pulls you in for a hug, but this hug is not happy. This hug is sad, and longing. This hug says I will miss you, and I’m not ready to leave you yet.

“The best gift. Thank you Jake.” she whispers as she pulls away, letting you go.

–

HER POV

You sit on the bed in your childhood bedroom, knowing that in a few short weeks this will all be a distant memory. You will be living away from home, no family, no friends. No Sam. No Jake. The thought is dreadful, but you are excited to start new. You were so overwhelmed by Jake’s card tonight. The pick… You can’t believe he kept it, after all this time. Why he kept it... It nearly shattered you. You couldn’t even bring yourself to read what he had written in the card, knowing you would burst into tears. You had to stand up and walk away, but he was there, ready to comfort you, thinking that he had done something wrong when in reality he did everything right. The kiss. You can’t even put into words the kiss. It was everything. You hoped he could feel how much you loved him.

So now you find yourself here, sitting on your bed, staring at the card in front of you, willing yourself to read the words he has written, just for you.

You open the card, seeing the pick taped inside, and his perfectly sloppy handwriting.

Hey college girl,

Proud of you for being a smartypants. I always knew you were smarter than me. But I do have some advice for you, since I am older and therefore wiser, ha ha.

Skip at least 1 class a month to go do something fun.

Don’t waste too much of your time perfecting your homework, C’s get degrees…

Never go anywhere alone. If you ever find yourself alone, I’m only a phone call away.

You laugh at his advice, it is so perfectly Jake. Written messily underneath the pick you see his parting line.

I’ve kept a piece of you with me, and now a piece of me will be with you. Don’t forget me.

All my love,

Jake

You close the card and put it on your night stand. You pull the blankets over your head and turn off the lamp. As you lie alone with your thoughts on what is supposed to be a happy day, you cry yourself to sleep knowing that you could never forget him. Even if you wanted to.

–

August 2017

“Where do you want this?” Sam asks, holding up your full length mirror.

“How about near the closet somewhere?” you ask.

Sam graciously offered to help you and your parents move your things into your dorm room. He was leaving for tour in a few days and he wanted to spend every last second together before you were both separated from each other. You spent practically all summer together, hanging out, going to the lake, watching them practice for tour. The summer went by too quickly, but you knew it would. Things were changing, Sam became more and more busy with the band, and you were busy preparing everything for your move and classes. When he offered to help you move in you accepted, knowing it would probably be the last time you saw him for a long time.

“Okay honey, that's everything. Only need to unpack these boxes of random stuff, and you will be all moved in.” your mom says, teary eyed.

“Thanks mom, I couldn’t have done all of this without you, really.” you say pulling her in for a hug.

Your dad follows behind her, giving you his signature bear hug. “You call us if you need anything. I mean it.” he says sternly.

“I will dad, I promise.” you reply and with that they leave you to your new life as a college student.

You stand in your room, staring at the door, as Sam starts to speak. “Are you okay?” he asks nervously. You feel his arm encircling your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just a little bit sad. Everyone is leaving me.” you reply.

“Not really, they are only an hour and a half away,” he says.

“Not just them, you too.” you say.

“I’m not leaving you! We are just going for a few months. It will go by quickly. I can come visit as soon as we get back! Or maybe you can come see a show or…” he trails off.

“Plus, you can call me or text me whenever you want. You know I always answer you.” he smiles. “Dont, be sad. You’re too pretty to be sad.”

You snap your head to look at him, he has never said something like that to you.

“What?” he asks.

“Well… you never say that kind of stuff to me Sam.” you say curiously.

“Yeah I know, but I have been thinking…” he says.

You nod your head, encouraging him to continue his thought.

“Do you remember the day we got partnered up Freshman year?” he asks.

“Yeah?” you reply.

“When I found out you were my partner I was so excited. But I tried to play it cool. I just thought you were soooo pretty.” he laughs.

He starts to unpack one of the boxes full of random items as he continues, “The night you came over, I didn’t even know how to handle what I was feeling, you were so smart, and funny. I couldn’t understand why I never saw it before. I mean, we knew each other for years.” he says, placing books on your little book shelf.

“I was so excited you stayed to watch us jam in the garage. I wanted to impress you. A few weeks later I admitted to myself that I liked you. I even asked Jake for advice. None of it worked, obviously. ” he smiles shrugging with his shoulders.

Jake knew? Why didn’t he tell you?

“I worked up all my courage to ask you to Prom, I was still nervous though. I was going to try to kiss you that night. I clearly didn't...” he laughed.

“Then when you started dating Michael, I had the answer I needed. You obviously didn’t feel the same way about me. I put my feelings aside and continued to just be your best friend. I was fine with that. I’ve been fine with that. But now, we are leaving, and you’re starting school and it just feels like I had to tell you. You had to know, if you didn’t already.”

“Sam…” you drag his name out.

“I know, I know, so typical. Guy falls in love with his best friend…” he laughs.

“In love?” you ask shocked.

“Of course…how could I not? But… I know it’s not like that for you. Or else it would have happened long before now.” he says, closing the drawer of your nightstand.

He knows, he gets it. But he doesn’t know why.

“You are my best friend Sam...Practically my brother. I love you, you know that. But I love you like a brother.” you say, ashamed, and knowing that you are crushing him.

“I figured that’s what you would say. There are no hard feelings, I promise.” he says with a smile. But you know it's a lie.

“Are you sure, I feel so stupid…” you reply.

“No, you’re not stupid. I promise. I mean you’re the one going to college here...” he laughs.

“Sam you got into HARVARD.” you laugh.

“Yeah…wasn’t for me…” you both laugh and the tension melts away.

A little while later, you are unpacking the last box and you see all of the pictures you selected for your bulletin board. You grab the thumb tacks and the stack of photos and mementos and turn to put them up.

“Oh, I can do that. I’m good at collaging.” Sam jokes.

You hand him the stack and turn back to your bottomless pit of a last box.

You carry a few items to the closet, and peek over your shoulder to check on his progress.

“Looks good Sammy!” you yell behind you.

When you return to the room you see him sitting on the bed reading something. The blood drains from your face as you see exactly what it is.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, you can feel the venom in his tone.

You walk over to him and snatch the card out of his hands and tuck it under your arm. Ignoring his question. But you know it’s too late. He read it.

“What is that? I know it's from Jake… I could recognize that handwriting anywhere!” he demands.

“Nothing, Sam! He just gave me a card at that graduation party! It wasn’t even supposed to be in that box. I don’t know why it’s in there. Must have been an accident.” you say, tossing it in the small trash can by your desk.

You can see his body relax as he watches the folded blue card hit the bottom of the can, and with it the entirety of your heart.

You never thought that the first thing you would learn in college would be that your best friend is in love with you. Only to be quickly followed by him reading his own brother's private confession, meant for your eyes only. He changes the subject quickly so you know he didn’t read into it too much, and you are thankful. The last thing you want to do is try to explain.

Another hour or so of packing and talking and it’s time for Sam to go. A few tears and a lot of ‘I’ll miss you’s’ later, you watch as his hand me down Subaru pulls away from your dorm. With a promise of ‘I’ll call you’, you head back into your room.

Rushing straight to the trash can you pick up the card, running your fingers over the letters as you let the tears fall. You hate lying to Sam. You wish you could be honest, but you know you can't. Especially now.

How could you do this to him? He is your best friend. Your best friend who is in love with you… He would never understand.

Tears roll down your cheek as you pin the card to your bulletin board. The pick still sits perfectly taped inside the card. You haven’t brought yourself to take it out, afraid you will lose it. You couldn’t bear the thought. It sits right next to a picture of you and Sam. His arm draped around the back of your neck pulling your face close to his. Both of you are wearing huge, happy smiles.

Your best friend.

A pang of guilt shoots through your chest as you imagine how Sam must have felt all these years. Hearing you complain about boys and watching you date them, when all he wanted was for it to be him. All the times you cried to him on the phone about your bad dates and break ups…He was always there.

In a way you almost feel like you led him on, spending almost everyday with him this summer. You knew you two had grown closer, but you didn’t know how much more it meant to him. All the while you were pining after his brother. The brother who he asked for advice. About you. You, never even throwing a thought his way. Now you’re here at college, and they are leaving for tour. You’re not sure when you’ll see them again, but maybe the distance will be good. Maybe it will give you all the clarity you need.

You decide to take a shower to rinse away the day, and hope that it will help you relax into your new surroundings. It’s hard being in a new place where no one knows you. It’s scary and lonely. You triple check the lock on your door and text your mom that you are in for the night, so that she doesn’t worry.

As you crawl into the unfamiliar twin bed, you read a few pages of a book your mom bought you, and find yourself growing drowsy with each flip of a page. When your phone vibrates next to you, your eyes pop open, waking you from your light sleep. You pick it up wondering who it could be, and when you see the name on the screen it nearly takes your breath away.

Jake.

With shaking hands you swipe to open the message and what you are met with, sends a chill down your spine.

Jake: Sam called.

Chapter 2

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fandomonetwo · 9 months

Text

i beggest thou pardon — eddie munson

▸summary: you have an issue. eddie has a talent at acting. you have to get rid of a really sketchy guy. he has to get people to stop making up rumours about him and chrissy. a perfect problem.

▸characters: eddie munson, fem!reader, chrissy cunningham, male!oc

▸tw: creep guy, borderline sa, an adult word or two

▸a/n: this came to me in a dream. it was a great dream. i was sad it was over

MANY OF THE students at Hawkins would say that Percy Thorn was a pretty good choice of boyfriend. He was a very tall, slightly lanky yet strong art student with a charming personality, a dazzling smile, and a 1984 Harley Davidson FXRT. Yes, he was quite a choice.

He was also an incredible egomaniac.

For the past week and a half, Percy Thorn had not once left you alone if he could help it. Lunch times, he was there. Art class, he was there. Maths and English, he was there. He was like carbon dioxide: always there, yet never wanted.

Well, this past couple of days, he’d gone above and beyond in trying his best to ‘get you’. He’d tried the flirting, leaning against inanimate objects (and animate objects, such as poor Joseph with the glasses), pick up lines, asking his friends to ask you out for him. Nothing seemed to work. So, he tried the next option.

Touching.

First, it was an arm around your shoulders. Then pats on the head. Then a hand grab. But today, he’d been rather bold, going as far as to place a hand on your thigh. When he did that, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Oh, boy. You had just told Percy Thorn that you had a boyfriend. That did not exist. That was nowhere to be found. That currently had his residential address set in Narnia. You had to find a boyfriend, stat.

When lunch rolled around, you burst into the cafeteria wide-eyed, panicked, and panting. Your eyes then landed on one set person that could quite possibly guarantee your safety from Mr.-let-me-lick-my-lips-and-hope-I-look-sexy.

You beelined for the table he was currently sitting at, taking the empty seat next to him, smoothing out your skirt.

“I’m really sorry, but I need a boyfriend.”

The man blinked once, twice, gaping like a fish. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before blurting, “I beggest thou pardon?”

It was probably the stupidest thing Eddie Munson could have said. But he was discussing Hellfire, and he was speaking in old English, and then he remembered he had a Shakespeare assignment due tomorrow, and the dominoes just kept falling.

Eddie had never thought that someone such as yourself, a rather ethereal being that was currently spending her angelic time at a school such as this, could ever taint her reputation by breathing the same air as him, never mind sitting next to him. He was a little taken aback, evidently.

Gareth, who was sitting opposite him, merely dropped his head rather heavily on the table, banging it a couple of times before sighing. Jeff merely pat him a few times on the back, muttering “I know, dude, I know” to the poor boy. You and Eddie both watched this with rather similar facial expressions, allowing Eddie time to process what you’d just said.

“I’m so sorry,” he backtracked. “I meant to say... what?”

“Percy Thorn won’t leave me alone, and I told him I had a boyfriend, and he didn’t believe, me, and he won’t believe me until I show him, and I know that you’re a kind of freak, no offence, but if you pretended to date me, he’d probably get the message and leave me alone because he would never try to mess with you, what with you being the devil’s spawn or something, I don’t know, but I suppose the basic gist of this is, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend so he can stop touching me?”

How you managed to say that in one breath was rather impressive, Eddie had to admit. He also had to admit that he was, in fact, not listening until you mentioned touching. His eyes narrowed when he heard that and he pursed his lips.

See, he had his own little problem. Someone had seen Chrissy and him talking at one point in time, and now they had spread the rumour that the two were know a thing, meaning that Chrissy’s anxiety had skyrocketed when people whispered, and Eddie was getting into a lot more fights than he was before the rumours began. He’d only just had a black eye fade, and already had a threat for another one. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to go blind.

“Pissing off Percy Thorn, huh?” he murmured thoughtfully. “Hmmmm...”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, dude, take the deal,” Gareth hissed, not lifting his head from the table.

“Sure, why not?” the metalhead smirked, and you nearly fell backwards from relief.

“Okay,” you breathed, ready to cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart, relax.” He raised a hand to your waist, halting and asking permission with his eyes. At your soft smile and small nod, he wrapped an arm around your lower back, peeking two fingers underneath your ABBA themed baby tee. You shivered at the cool temperature of his silver rings, and were quite flustered at the heat of his skin. It was a rather beautiful contrast.

You were a rather physically affectionate person, and were rarely uncomfortable with touch unless someone else was. But this was an Eddie-initiated thing, so you leaned into his side, placing your head just below his collarbone. His hair smelt nice, and it was gorgeously soft. He had great curls.

“Wow, your hair is like, ridiculously nice,” you muttered. He chuckled.

“Thanks, doll. It’s my three-in-one shampoo,” he joked. You cracked a small smile at that, it dropping as soon as you heard footsteps and turned to see the douchebag himself strutting over.

“Well, well, well.” Percy Thorn also had a very silky voice. He could’ve been a voice actor. “We find ourselves in a predicament at the moment.”

Gareth lifted his head from the table, his eyes slits as he glared through his own brunette curls at the leather-clad artist. “And what would that be, o mighty one?”

Percy turned up his lips, looking Gareth up and down, turning back to Eddie. “The devil’s spawn has his hands on my girl.”

Eddie raised his lips in a sarcastic grin, cocking his head. “Last I checked, she was my girl.” Eddie tightened his arm to sell the point, and you raised your hand to his, lacing your fingers. You really wanted to vomit when Percy said ‘his girl’.

Percy scoffed. “Oh, please. No one would be caught dead sharing your seat on the bus, let alone allowing themselves to be called your girl.”

“Yeah, well, the reason she is my girl is because we shared a seat on the bus, so I guess luck was on my side.”

Damn, Eddie was good at lying. You smirked a little at the little made up story. You nuzzled into his neck a little, grabbing his attention.

“I have to go. Mrs. Craig won’t handle tardiness from anyone, not for the sake of algebra.” You swung your legs over the seat, hand still interlaced. He did the same, only with one leg. He pressed his lips to your knuckles, delighting in Percy’s absolute look of fury.

“I shall see you soon, my heavenly rose,” he bade farewell, sounding like one of the characters from the play he was meant to be analysing, Twelfth Night. You giggled a little. Even though you were only pretending, Eddie was rather funny.

“I await the chance, fair knight,” you returned, curtseying rather clumsily. He smiled back at you. You were quite pretty when you smiled.

You began to walk away, avoiding Percy’s look of rage when you passed. You couldn’t walk very far however, when you gasped, stopping in your tracks. Tears appeared in your eyes.

Percy smirked, the spot where he’d slapped your butt still tingling. You’d never wear this skirt in public again. Your hand flew to the spot, trying to stop something, anything, everything from happening all at once. You spun around, hunched over a little as you kept your legs together, as though you were a cowering puppy.

Eddie’s smile faded, replaced with a rather scathing look. The look of fear, no, distress that was on your face had him reeling. He grabbed the nearest thing, which was his lunch tray, shot up, flung his arms back, and brought the tray right on Percy’s ear.

The art student crumbled like a sack of potatoes, yelling as he clutched his ear. Eddie stood in front of you protectively, lunch tray still clutched rather tightly in his hand.

“You bastard.”

“Mr. Munson!” The whole cafeteria swung from looking at Eddie to looking at the teacher that had just shouted. “Principal’s office! Now!”

The brunette sighed, dropping the tray. Gareth sputtered.

“Wha- but Percy literally just assaulted her!”

“You too!” She didn’t even know his last name.

“That’s not fair.” You were trying to help, but it was hard when you were trying not to burst into tears.

“You know what? Life’s not fair. All three of you, go!” She pointed in the direction of the principal’s office Percy’s friends rushed to help their fallen mate.

Eddie stuck close to you the whole walk to the principal’s office. “Welp, that was an eventful relationship.” He tried joking, but it didn’t crack a smile this time.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I got you both in trouble.”

“Nah,” Gareth waved his hand, dismissing you. “It was worth it. Seeing Thorn fold like that was funny. Plus,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “Eddie’s got a girlfriend.”

“Pretend girlfriend.” Eddie cleared his throat turning a little red. Gareth shrugged and walked a bit in front of them. The metalhead turned to you, sheepishly running his hand on the back of his neck. “Sorry about him, and that whole tray smack thing.”

“It’s okay, for both things.” You said quietly. “But, uh, you wouldn’t mind being my pretend boyfriend for a little longer, would you? I’m a little paranoid now.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Eddie grinned like the cheshire cat. “How about I drop you home to solidify the story?”

You smiled at that. “I’d really love that.”

Besides, he could use your help on that assignment.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #fake dating #gareth stranger things #mclove

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panda-writes-kpop · 2 months

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What does a demon and a function have in common? (You can test both of their limits!) - l. yb.

a/n: happy dami day! i know the timeline of this fic is messy, but just pretend that it's all okay and I will too :) also I wrote this because I was trying to understand my feelings as an aroace person towards love and I'm still really confused... but at least we got a good fic out of it! ❤️

tw: demons, undefined magic, lots of mentions of death, implied aroace! reader, a bit of religious trauma

word count: 2.6k

summary: you're in distress over your math homework and the pretty demon that helps you with it, and you're reluctant to let your heart do the talking since it ended pretty badly for your friend and her demon companion.

related fics: Demon! SuA - Tainted Love

♡ Masterlist ♡

You shouldn't do this.

You glare at the leather-bound book in front of you as you furiously erase another answer from your sheet of scratch paper. The book was a gift from a friend, one that had struggled with a demonic relationship before.

You hadn't heard from them in a year and a half, and from what you heard from mutual friends, they weren't doing too well. Although you weren't positive that the book was bad news, you had never seen your friend so desperate to remove an object from their grasp.

After doing a bit of research, you realized that it was a cursed tome. There were seven different markings on the cover, which meant that seven different demons were tied to the book. Luckily, only one had been released when your friend had opened the book.

Now, you had to be the one to safeguard it. To make sure that no one would ever be hurt by the book again.

But, as you stare at your Calculus homework, you realize that you have no idea what you're fucking doing. And at 10 p.m. the night before an exam, the tutoring center is closed and the professor is probably counting sheep while their students are stressing out.

You're well aware that it's a stupid, very dumb, unintelligent idea to open a cursed book in order to understand Calculus, but what other choice do you have? Do you fail this exam then fail the class, which would put you a year behind?

What would your peers say?

What would your family say?

A shiver down your back, from the looming threat of parental disappointment, causes you to drop your pencil and reach for the book. Your hand gently traces the seven etchings on the cover, and you notice that one isn't filled in with color.

The demon that took my friend away.

You really shouldn't be doing this.

You think about the laundry list of concepts that you have to master by 10 a.m. tomorrow, and your decision has never been easier.

I'd rather stick my hand in an open flame than do another problem with no help.

When you open the book, you realize that you're blissfully unaware of how to summon a demon. Do you say a bunch of random words in Latin? Do you do a little hand motion? Do you need an offering?

You decide that your best option at summoning a demon that won't smite you immediately is to plead with the book.

Because desperate never goes out of style.

“Listen, I don't know who I'm talking to, if I'm even talking to anyone in the first place. I'm having a problem. …Well, it's not a ‘the fate of the world rests in your hands’ type of problem, but I still could use some help.”

An orange trail of smoke leaves the book in your hands and swirls like a tornado in an empty spot in your living room. Objects start flying around because of the tailwind, and you have to duck before you take a pencil to the eyeball.

“Who knew Calculus homework could be deadly?” You joke as you try to not think about the magnitude of the situation that you're in. You haven't even met the demon yet, and the smoke that it creates(?) it is trying to kill you.

Not a good sign.

Once your apartment is messy enough for your demon of choice, the book in your hands shuts itself as the orange smoke starts to dissipate.

You set the book aside as you gawk at the woman- no, demon that stands in your living room.

She's dressed in all black, ready to go to a funeral.

You just have to hope that it's not yours.

“How can I assist you?” She softly asks in a semi-uninterested voice.

“I need help with Calculus.” You blurt out as she clocks her head at you.

“I beg your pardon?”

This demon was exceptionally smart, which was good for your tired, mortal mind. She also didn't kill you on the spot - a good thing, you assume, unless the murder is waiting for you on the other side of the Calculus homework.

She was taken aback by your request, staring at you in utter surprise until she joined your side and helped you with your homework.

Her voice was gentle and smooth, and you would've fallen asleep if you weren't thinking about being killed in your sleep.

“Thanks.” You rub your eyes as you set the pencil down as you check your phone for the time.

You're proud of yourself for putting your phone on dark mode (you've flash-banged yourself in the past, it's a one time mistake) as you realize that it's only one in the morning. With a few hours of sleep and a large container of your favorite caffeinated drink, you'd be fine for your exam.

“Is that all you needed? …A bit of guidance with math?” The woman sitting beside you is in disbelief as you nod your head.

“Is there something wrong with that?” You joke, momentarily forgetting that she's a demon.

“Forgive me, but the people who usually hold the tome are more demanding… and a lot less cute.”

“Okay, back into the book you go.” You toss the book her way before trying to hide her embarrassment.

She chuckles softly before running her fingers over the spine.

“You have no idea how any of this works, right?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod your head before starting to put your school stuff away.

“Right, right.” Her eyes meet yours for a moment. “Dami.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head at her, but she snaps her fingers and disappears with the book in an instance.

Well, that damn book is out of my sight and I now have a chance to pass my Calc exam. I'll take that as a win-win.

You don't remember climbing into bed last night (this morning? The days are blending together at this point).

Before leaving your apartment, you say a small prayer before grabbing your pick-me-up of choice from the fridge. You might have this exam on lock.

As you walk to class, you recite Calculus formulas in your head. Partial derivatives swirl around your mind along with the thought of the mysterious woman.

Dami?

She's not a directional derivative, so you should focus on something else.

You, at least, had the demon situation under control.

This semester, you officially renounced your academic weapon status; instead, you were an academic victim. Although you most definitely messed up the first problem (why do all of the problems have the same wording yet completely different solutions?), you had the rest of it down.

Your confidence evaporated when the two classmates behind you started discussing their answers and got completely different answers to you.

Maybe another semester here wouldn't be so bad?

“You did fine.”

You jump as your eyes lock with the demon from the night before.

“Sorry, sorry.” You apologize to the two people behind you as you step to the side to speak with Dami. “I like your confidence in me, and I wish I had a fraction of it for myself.”

“There's nothing wrong with having a little pride.” She shrugs as the doors to the lecture hall open.

“Well, at least there's another exam a few weeks after spring break.” Ryujin shrugs before closing the door and walking towards you. “How'd the exam go for you?”

“It was okay.” You softly shrug as you glance between Dami and Ryujin.

“You're too humble for how smart you are.” Ryujin scoffs before turning to Dami. “You new here?”

“I'm just visiting someone.” Dami winks at you, and your eyes avert her gaze afterwards.

Ryujin sighs before adjusting her backpack and clearing her throat.

“They're not interested in guys or girls…. or anyone, for that matter.”

You playfully smack Ryujjn's shoulder before she pretends to be in extreme pain from the hit.

“It's not an absolute thing. I'll know if there's someone I'm interested in.” You nonchalantly say as Ryujin checks her smart watch.

“Oh shit, I've got class in fifteen minutes halfway across campus. See ya!” Ryujin waves to you both before offering a nod to Dami. “Nice to meet you.”

She runs off in another direction as your attention turns to Dami.

“Why are you here, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I haven't been out of that book for centuries. I just wanted to see how humans lived.” Dami folds her arms before walking to you. “The world is so much different… better, if you ask me.”

“You're not like any demon I've heard of.” You blurt out before biting your tongue. “Sorry, that's probably really mean to say-”

“It's okay, and to be honest, I'd be surprised if I was like any other demon that you met. Not all demons fall from the sky, you know.”

It's been three hours, and you're still trying to come to terms with the fact that Dami’s a fallen angel. Who says that to someone after only two interactions with them?

Dami, apparently, because she's been watching you like a hawk as you sit across from her in the campus library.

“You think of me differently, don't you?”

You don't look up from your computer as you tap your pencil against the desk three times.

Click. Click. Click.

“I don't.” You calmly say before writing an equation in your notebook. “I should be honest with you, though, since you were honest with me. It's only fair.”

You pause for a moment as Dami folds her arms and leans against the chair. She's trying to remain cool, but a small twitch in her left eye tells you that she's more interested than she appears to be.

It's cute.

“I had a friend who summoned a demon from that book… I don't know her name, and I don't want to. She ruined my friend’s life, Dami.” You explain your friend’s story, going through agonizing detail as told through their family and other friends.

You have to pause once to wipe your tears, and Dami offers a comforting hand as the other drops to her side. You, albeit hesitantly, take it.

She should be cold like ice- undead, unfeeling. But there's some sort of warmth in her touch that can't be explained by the hellfire that she resides in.

Perhaps she's already gotten attached to you. You feel it too, you want to trust her. Can you, though?

She hasn't torn your arm off yet, so you're starting off on the right foot.

Trauma dumping counts as bonding, right?

You bite your lip before shaking your head, feeling the uncertainty of everything crash against you. What are you doing, trusting a demon that hurt someone that you care deeply about?

I can't do this.

“I should go.” You pull your hand out of her grasp as you quickly try to pack your things up. “I'm sorry, I'm probably shit-talking one of your friends that you've known for centuries.”

As you reach for your pencil, Dami grabs your wrist.

“I can't promise that I'm a ‘good’ demon or person,” She softly exhales before looking in your eyes, “but I won't betray you. Not now. Not ever.”

Something pounds, but it's not your head, swimming from the thoughts of your friends and the demon in front of you.

It comes from deep inside you, a feeling that you thought would be forever foreign to you. A magical feeling that “normal” people got to feel. The thing that makes them human, after all.

Your heart pounds.

This isn't you. You need to leave. Now.

Without exchanging another word, you run off into the afternoon light. You know she might follow you, but you hope she'll give you some space.

I hope she doesn't hate me.

You need to get a grip, and fast, before you rock the boat that's been steadily keeping you afloat for years.

Five hours. That's the longest you can last in a little internet cafe before you put your tail between your legs and head home. You know Dami will be there, and you don't want to sleep on a park bench, so home it is.

Will she be mad at me?

Who cares? You're not in love with her, you just like her.

As a friend.

As someone you can hang out with.

Someone to share secrets with.

Friends can kiss, right?

You've known her for less than twenty-four hours. You need to find where your sense of reality has gone and reclaim it before you head into your apartment.

But the key is already in your hand.

Your feet walk up the stairs without your brain telling them to.

You unlock your apartment door to see someone quietly sitting on your couch - the same spot where she helped you with your math homework.

Your stomach and heart fill with dread as you slowly take off your shoes.

She's been kind to you, and you ran off because you were upset about your own feelings.

You felt like a petulant child.

“I'm sorry for running off. I got upset thinking about my friend, and I should have talked through my feelings like a fucking adult. You're not like the other demon, just as I'm not like my friend. Feeling trapped by someone else’s opinions of you is rough,” You toss the keys on the counter before shedding your coat, “trust me, I know.”

Dami looks back to you, and the moonlight casts her in an angelic glow - she was ethereal and you didn't doubt that she was once an angel. You'd be more surprised if she wasn't one of God’s favorites.

Why was she here, instead of in the sky?

You don't want to pry, but Dami’s the first one to walk towards you.

“I was worried about you,” She softly admits, “a demon, a former angel, a creature much older than you could comprehend, was worried about the safety of a mortal.”

When she is close enough for you to reach out for her, she reaches out her hand.

“I'm not an evil demon or a perfect angel. But I can promise you-”

“I think I like you.” The words spill out of your lips before you can truly think about what you're saying. “I mean, of course I like you, but it's not how I've liked anyone before. I like Ryujin as a friend, she's nice to me and we get lunch sometimes. But you… you're different. And being different scares me. It's not just because you're a demon, it's who you are. It wouldn't matter if you were a demon, angel, or human because I'd still feel the same way.”

You pause to take a breath.

“I'm not normal, and I'm probably not like any human you've met. I don't want a traditional romance with a wedding or kids. I don't want physical intimacy with someone who won't appreciate me. Hell, I don't even know if I want a partner half of the time. The only thing I know,” You take her hand before pulling Dami closer, “is that I want you to be by my side. As a friend or as something more. Whatever we will be, I know we'll figure it out together.”

“I want you by my side as well.” She softly mutters as you place your forehead against hers.

You're both quiet as you envelope yourselves in the serene environment that you've created.

“So, do I meet your devilish friends now, or do I have to take you to dinner first?”

Dami laughs warmly before pulling you close to her.

“Whatever you want.”

You're in deep. She has in her talons sunk deep under your skin, in less than a day.

She could betray you.

You had to learn how to trust her.

And in time, you will.

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isfjmel-phleg · 8 days

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After my presentation of the Secret Garden and CEN paper, someone in the audience asked about applying the lens of CEN to other children's book from the same era. I thought about it afterward, and the best example that came to mind was Anne of Green Gables.

Anne Shirley, before her arrival at Green Gables, has experienced CEN. It has played out in a much different way for her than it does for Mary and Colin in TSG, due to differences in social class, but the principle has been the same. As an orphan raised in homes that viewed her as an inconvenience and a sort of unpaid servant, she has never had an adult in her life who prioritized her emotional well-being, who took the time to be kind to her, to listen to her, to teach her how to function in the world beyond basic survival. She is aware that no one wants her after her parents' death, and she is made to feel guilty by her caretakers for having the audacity to exist and need to be "brought up by hand." It's difficult for Anne to even talk about these experiences when Marilla asks her. She's relieved to get relating them over with, because "Evidently she did not like talking about her experiences in a world that had not wanted her."

And then there's this exchange:

“Were those women—Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hammond—good to you?” asked Marilla, looking at Anne out of the corner of her eye. “O-o-o-h,” faltered Anne. Her sensitive little face suddenly flushed scarlet and embarrassment sat on her brow. “Oh, they meant to be—I know they meant to be just as good and kind as possible. And when people mean to be good to you, you don’t mind very much when they’re not quite—always. They had a good deal to worry them, you know. It’s a very trying to have a drunken husband, you see; and it must be very trying to have twins three times in succession, don’t you think? But I feel sure they meant to be good to me.”

Anne has clearly been mistreated, but she's describing--and pointedly not describing--suggests less of aggression and physical harm and more of something missing, an emptiness, a lack of love--CEN. Likewise, she herself exhibits some signs that can be associated with this type of maltreatment. Difficulty with emotional regulation, attachment problems, extreme sensitivity to rejection, negativity toward herself, excessively immersing herself in imagination (a mild dissociative tendency), anxiety around social situations (regarding how to behave correctly and whether people will like her), etc.

And in a way, the entire first book of the series deals with how she finds healing from her past of CEN, through gaining the love and acceptance of her new family, of friends, of an entire community.

From what little I know of L. M. Montgomery's life, CEN was likely a factor in her own upbringing, and it repeatedly features in her novels (The Blue Castle and Jane of Lantern Hill, for instance, in particular feature heroines who have experienced CEN) with poignancy. Montgomery paints moving portraits of how badly children can be scarred by a lack of love and affirmation.

Anyway, situating Anne's backstory as rooted in CEN helped me put my finger on one of the reasons that I felt that the recent series Anne With an E--at least the first season, which is all I've seen--misunderstood the nature of Anne's past. In this version, we see flashbacks to Anne's past, in which she is being viciously bullied by other children for her talkativeness and imagination. They even go so far as to stuff a mouse into her mouth, and the show suggests that Anne has PTSD as a result of this kind of treatment.

And yeah, Anne's childhood in the book isn't great and clearly has hurt her deeply, but this interpretation felt off to me. What Anne has to say--and not say--about her past in the book suggests not that she was targeted as an object of others' aggression but that she was disregarded. No one was giving her a second thought. That's not as dramatic and shocking as vicious bullying, but it's another, more subtle, insidious kind of maltreatment, just as hurtful in its way but harder to pin down. It's easy to portray a quick, sensational scene of our protagonist being obviously, overtly, grandiosely mistreated, but how do you show the gradual piling up of years' and years' of being treated like you don't matter? All the tiny incidents that chip away at one's sense of self-worth? The building of a worldview in which you must earn love and acceptance but somehow you can never manage it and of course it's your own fault?

And I'm reminded how recent adaptations and retellings of TSG shift the narrative toward grief, which is easy to dramatize, big and impressive and full of obvious pathos. It's an easy way out of depicting a subtler kind of suffering, and the same way, Anne With an E replaces Anne's CEN with bullying and PTSD. There is a place for such stories, but Anne's isn't one of them. It's almost as if there's an inability to understand or a reluctance to depict any kind of suffering that isn't big and grand and shocking. There are many ways that people can be deeply hurt, and it doesn't always look like a major traumatic event that's easy to pinpoint. Sometimes the hurt isn't a tidal wave that engulfs in a single devastating event; it's a slow drip that erodes oneself away little by little. That's closer to what is depicted for Anne, and Montgomery's other protagonists who have experienced CEN, and it's important to recognize what exactly is going on because this sort of thing still happens every day in the real world, in many forms, and it needs to be seen and combatted. And seeing this form of maltreatment play out in literature helps us recognize it and empathize with and reach out to those whom it has impacted--or possibly even to identify it in our own histories and search for our own healing.

#I apologize if not everything is phrased perfectly - I'm just working through some initial thoughts on this #but I hope the point of what I'm trying to communicate will get through

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hollywillows · 2 years

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lose you - rooster bradshaw x pilot!reader

this is my first time writing for top gun, but i’ve been a fan my whole life and rooster struck inspiration in me. please let me know if anything is inaccurate here! i hope you enjoy, feel free to send in requests!

summary: during a training exercise, something goes wrong with your plane, and rooster panics

the exercise was, quite frankly, supposed to be easy. when maverick had explained the objective to the class, you hadn’t been worried at all. not in the slightest. all you had to do was stay within however many feet of the cliffs, blah blah blah.

you’d been pushing yourself as far as you could, feeling a need to prove yourself to not only your classmates but to yourself. and, of course, to rooster.

your little crush on the lieutenant was supposed to be a secret, and it had been, up until phoenix had guessed about it. “so, rooster, huh?” she’d asked you one night at the bar with a smirk on her lips.

“hm?” you’d hummed, trying to pretend that you hadn’t almost spat out your drink.

she laughed. “i won’t say anything. you are blushing, though.”

“no i am not.”

the conversation had ended there, with her laughing at you and you hiding behind your martini glass. rooster was your friend, and he had been since pretty much your first day. training with the best of the best, yourself included, made it sometimes difficult to meet people that weren’t shallow, or in their heads.

that much you realized pretty quickly with guys like hangman, who could only be admired for their skill. as soon as the man opened his mouth, though, your admiration would decimate.

rooster, however, you admired for everything. he was not only a brilliant pilot, but a brilliant man. you’d never been blind to how attractive he was, what with the aviators perched on his nose and a smirk on his lips. but after having endless conversations (often drunk) with the man, you had undoubtedly developed a crush on him.

the same man stood next to you grumbling, some complaint or other about maverick not trusting him enough to let him fly. you had, honestly, zoned rooster out, more focused on grabbing your helmet. “vix, are you even listening to me?”

vixen had been your call sign for years, and it seemed it would remain so until you made some extremely embarrassing move or other. the vixen and the phoenix, you and the other girl in the squadron would frequently joke.

“what?” you turned to look at him, realizing that you’d been completely off in your own train of thought. “oh, yeah, yeah, mav holding you back, whatever.”

he sighed. “come on, i know i talk about it a lot, but it’s frustrating, vix!”

you nodded. “yeah, i sure bet it is.” your tone was enough to tell him that you were focused on something else, and you caught him furrowing his brows out of the corner of your eye.

“you okay?” he then asked, leaning on the locker next to yours. “you just.. you seem distracted today.”

with a shake of your head, you turned to look back at him. “i’m just.. i don’t know. i’m tired, i guess.” you lied. you’d been thinking about him. truth be told, you were thinking about how to tell him the truth. how do you admit your feelings to someone who is so close to you? if your feelings weren’t reciprocated, you worried about the awkwardness that would undoubtedly ensue.

rooster only nodded. “okay. well, good luck up there, okay?” he patted your shoulder, which made you give him a tight lipped smile. a pat on the shoulder, really? “if anyone can clip mav’s wings, it’s gonna be you.”

“haha, very funny.” you replied, tossing your gear over your shoulder and walking with him to the landing pad that your plane resided on. “alright, wizzo.” you said over your shoulder, letting your weapon systems officer climb in before you followed suit, putting your helmet on. you’d nicknamed him this months prior, insisting that ‘wso’ was too much of a mouthful.

you were up in the air in no time, and you were still feeling pretty good about the exercise. maybe that was in vain, or perhaps you yourself were vain and overconfident in your abilities. whatever it was, you felt that it was smooth sailing as you entered the sky with hangman in front of you.

“anyone have sights on mav?” you asked after hovering for a minute, looking at the sky above you.

wizzo shifted behind you. “nah, i don’t see him.”

almost as soon as the words left his mouth, the third plane sped between you both, making you laugh. “okay, so he’s in a good mood today.” you joked, preparing to follow him. “hangman, what’s the plan?”

the other lieutenant didn’t reply, and moved on his own to try to beat your captain. you cursed under your breath, but got the hint and circulated the perimeter of the area, trying to get to a vantage point.

“we’re on our own again.” wizzo commented.

you nodded. “yep, but are we surprised? hangman keeps us hanging.” you said, knowing that both he and the pilots waiting for you on the aircraft carrier could hear you. “okay, all we have to do is get behind him, keep and eye out for him.”

“aye-aye.” he replied, and you moved up slightly.

the next five or ten minutes (or maybe it was a full life time, you honestly had no idea) were going decently. then, next thing you knew, hangman was in front of you.

“oh, look who decided to show up?” you spoke sarcastically, looking over at his plane. you hadn’t even noticed the disturbance in the atmosphere, and if you had then likely none of it would’ve happened.

you kept flying, attempting to get through hangman and to maverick, who seemed to be aimlessly flying about, yet you knew the man to have tricks up his sleeves. you were so preoccupied with trying to get over to the captain that, again, you paid no attention to anything.

honestly, you figured that it would impress rooster. well, it would impress everyone. but it would especially impress him, who had been hell bent on trying to beat maverick at his own game, make the captain do his own set of push ups.

and so, you kept flying. straight into the wake turbulence that you should’ve noticed, and would’ve noticed had you not been preoccupied in your own thoughts.

“hey, vixen?” you heard from behind you. “uh.. i think we just lost an engine.”

you could barely respond before everything on your control panel seemed to go red. “shit shit shit.”

the plane was still in the air, but an engine had certainly suffered some sort of flameout on its right side. “starboard’s out.” you said. “i think we can still try to land it.”

you tossed random instructions over your shoulder to wizzo, trying to ignore the sounds of maverick calling for you. you were determined to land the plane.

“vixen, you can’t save it.” he finally said.

next thing you knew, the plane had begun spinning midair. “shit!” you cursed. “wiz, i’m gonna open the canopy, eject now.”

the man behind you effortlessly ejected from the plane, his parachute activating. meanwhile, you were stuck with some sort of issue in your handles. “shit, shit..”

you struggled for a moment before finally being released from the plane, just in time to watch it spin out and crash into the side of one of the mountains below you.

when you arrived back at the landing pad, you had one hand on your helmet and one pressed to your head. you weren’t injured, and thankfully neither was your wso. your ego, however, was bruised, and you were beyond frustrated with yourself. it should’ve been easy, what had gone wrong?

your plan to avoid everyone for the rest of the night was stopped short as you saw a man running to you. of course he was.

rooster stopped as soon as he was close enough to hug you, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on your head. “are you okay?” he asked after a minute, his grip on you, if anything, getting tighter. “we were all listening to you, and then you just.. you cut out, and all we could hear was maverick and..”

“i’m okay, roost.” you assured him, but you didn’t attempt to pull away from his embrace. “i just.. i don’t know what went wrong.”

he scoffed. “hangman is what went wrong. that asshole left you stranded, and then you-“

“no,” you shook your head, finally loosening your arms, “no, he.. he came back, and he must’ve had some sort of turbulence because next thing i knew the engine was blown.”

rooster’s body seemed to stiffen. he didn’t talk much about his past, and you didn’t quite blame him. he was easy to read, though, which often proved awkward when it came to fights between him and maverick. the entire group of you knew that something had happened to his father, but he was never willing to say anything about it.

which is why it shocked you when he cleared his throat. “that’s what.. that’s what happened to my dad.” he said, watching as your eyes shot up to his in surprise. “wake turbulence. engine shot. his head must’ve hit the canopy, or something, when he was ejecting because..”

you frowned. “i’m so sorry-“

he cut you off. “no, it’s just.. i’m okay. i just- i guess i don’t..” he struggled with his words. “i don’t think i could lose you, y/n. even if not like that, i just.. i don’t think i could lose you. period.”

you couldn’t recall if he’d ever called you by your name.

“it might be selfish to.. to have done so, but i have developed this.. huge.. these feelings for you.” he continued. “and i didn’t think i was ever going to have to admit that, but you almost didn’t come back to this base, and i just..” he looked anywhere but you, frowning. “i don’t think i could ever forgive myself if you never got to know how deeply i care about you.”

honestly, your mouth felt completely dry, and you had no idea what to say. for a moment you stood there, your feet glued to the ground. then you moved closer to him, and your hand moved up to his cheek. his gaze then finally met yours, and you swore you could feel him leaning into your touch.

“i care about you a lot, too.” you said, scanning his eyes for any sort of reaction.

it took him a second to smile (or was it a smirk?), and then he was pulling you in by the waist, and then his lips were on yours. the kiss was shorter than you would’ve expected from him, and you pulled away with your face still seemingly shocked, which made him laugh. “for once, you don’t have anything to say?” he commented.

you rolled your eyes. “big talk, bradshaw, big talk.”

he was about to move in for what you hoped was another kiss when you heard whooping and hollering in the distance. you both turned to look at your teammates, who were all watching you with smiles on their faces.

“i’m so glad it finally happened!” bob was cheering, his smile only widening when a few people around him handed him twenty dollar bills.

“you made a bet?” you asked, putting a hand up to shield your eyes from the sun.

“no, i won a bet.” the lieutenant replied, counting his money with a triumphant grin.

you looked up at rooster, who was chuckling. “this is gonna be fun, isn’t it?” he asked as he looked back down at you.

“oh, for sure. we’re professionals.” you replied, but you wasted no time in stealing your second kiss from him.

#hollywillows #rooster bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #miles teller imagine #top gun imagine #top gun #mavericks #top gun maverick #top gun movie

2K notes · View notes

randomshit657 · 1 month

Text

Community HeadCannons because I can

Abed

- This is canon but is Autistic

- When overwhelmed or having trouble speaking he’ll use the word “cool” for every answer. Like to mean yes, no, okay, etc. (once again borderline canon.)

- Has dyscalculia

- Had ARFID

- Bisexual and Agender

- Hate watches Supernatural and Greys Anatomy

- Hyper-empathic when it comes to inanimate objects

- Let’s Annie paint his nails

Jeff

- Has narcissistic personality disorder specifically covert narcissism

- Bisexaul

- Has ADHD

- Practices “Winger Speech’s” in the bathroom mirror

- Knows sign language

- Would most definitely listen to Dad Rock

- Views both Abed and Annie as younger siblings (just pretend all the Jeff/Annie stuff never happened. It always seemed weird to me)

- Makes sure he watches every movie Abed references (although he’ll deny that until the day he dies)

- Goes to Pride with Abed, Annie, and Troy (although they have to practically drag him the first time, but now he goes all in)

Troy

- Has ADHD literally no doubt in my mind

- Transmasc

- Gay and on the Asexual Spectrum

- Still believes in The Easter Bunny, The Tooth fairy, etc

- Loves stuffed animals but only has one very raggedy one from his childhood

- Religious Trauma

- Would try to do research on Autism, and Islam to try and understand Abed better but would keep getting distracted and get so frustrated he started crying. Annie would end up reading the stuff to him and helping him understand it.

- Loves the color purple

- Has always wanted a dog and is constantly bringing home strays

- Not really about him but when Troy gets Top Surgery Abed would drive him home and take care of him while he healed

- Listens to cheesy pop music

Annie

- I was going to say Audhd but what if she was misdiagnosed with ADHD as a kid but actually had Autism so that’s where the whole adderal addiction came from.

- Lesbian but with a lot of internalized homophobia

- Has always wanted a pet snake

- Has taken multiple self defense classes

- Is really into true crime

- Celebrates every year of sobriety one way or another (as she gets more comfortable with the group she invites them and they celebrate together)

- Loves heavy metal music and classical music

- Is surprisingly good at art

- Is the one who introduced Abed to Greys Anatomy

- Writes fanfic

Britta

- Transfem

- Exclusively listens to indie music

- Is secretly a Broadway nerd

- I honestly don’t have that much for her

Shirley

- Starts of as homophobic but as she gets to know everyone she starts to question whether her religion is entirely right about that point.

- She becomes a huge ally. Would wear a free mom hugs shirt to pride.

- Is the mom of the study group

- Her purse is pretty much magically whatever you need she has it in there (that includes stim toys, and noise canceling head phones for Abed and the other neurodivergents)

That’s it :))

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rip-quizilla · 11 months

Text

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: You realize that getting along with Eddie Munson is as effortless as breathing. Eddie sets a hard rule for himself for your burgeoning friendship.

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by When Harry Met Sally (1989), Slow Burn, Romantic Fluff, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no one dies, Reader-Insert

Part 1

Part 2

Spring, 1983

Monday morning was somehow normal, yet different at the same time.

You’d always known Eddie’s locker was near yours. You’d seen him in the hallways, usually one of the last stragglers ambling through the corridors as if he weren’t about to be late to class- but to you, he’d just as well have been in a different world. You’d never noticed how he always double-checked that his locker was closed by hitting it with the side of his closed fist before he locked it. Never noticed that he didn’t actually carry around a backpack most of the time, he just grabbed whatever ratty old textbook or fraying spiral notebook he needed from his locker and carried it to class in one hand. Now… it amazed you that you had ever been capable of overlooking Eddie Munson. The edges of every other person in the halls of Hawkins High seemed to fuzz and fade, leaving Eddie sharp and vivid, the lone focus of his own vignette. He was leaning up against the door to his locker and bobbing his head to the beat of whatever song played on his Walkman. His curls wisped forward, backward, softly brushing his shoulders and creating a shadowy curtain over his distracted eyes that glazed over while classmates passed him by-

“Are you staring at Eddie Munson?”

Robin’s voice cut you free of the trance you’d accidentally entered, and you blinked a few times while readjusting to reality. “Why would I be staring at Eddie Munson? That’s random.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the object of your not-so-subtle staring. “I agree, it is random.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, blocking Eddie from your sight and looking at you with eyes that very clearly said ‘Spill’. “So why the random staring? Did he do something? You know, besides the normal Eddie stuff like yelling in the cafeteria and being a menace in general-”

You laughed and shook your head, reaching into your own locker to grab what you needed for your first class of the day. “I wouldn’t use the term menace… I mean he’s actually not a bad guy. You know he gave me a ride home after I finished up in the theater department on Friday? And I didn’t even ask him, he just thought it wouldn’t be safe for me to walk home in the dark-” You shut your locker door to reveal Robin Buckley’s face, just painted with shock.

“You mean to tell me that you rode home in Eddie Munson’s car,” Her voice strained to maintain a whisper’s volume, and you prayed a silent ‘thank you’ that he was wearing headphones right now. “-and I’m just now finding out about it three days later?” Robin’s hands grasped your shoulders and shook. “I need details now, what were you guys even doing in the same room together at school on a Friday night?”

Your eyes flitted back to Eddie over Robin’s shoulder, checking to make sure that he was still too engrossed in whatever he was listening to to overhear the two of you talking about him. “Cool it, Buckley, he is literally right there.” You whispered the warning sharply through clenched teeth. “It’s nothing to write home about , honestly,” you shoved your things into your backpack, shrugging as if to emphasize how not a big deal this all was. “I was finishing up some sets for the play and he was running his dragon club thing, then when I mentioned I was walking home he offered me a ride.” Standing up straight, you shouldered your bag with a curt exhale. “That’s all that happened, I’m just saying he was nice enough to give me a ride home, so he must be a nice guy.”

“Yeah, or…” Robin’s mouth turned up in a knowing smirk, “...he was making a move-” The sentence was cut short by your no. 2 pencil pressing up against her lips. “I’m gonna stop you right there, Buckley.” You interrupted, rolling your eyes at how quickly your friend was trying to play matchmaker. “He was being a friend. We are friends now, that is all.” You stressed the last syllable, praying that she got the message.

Judging by her facial expression, she still wasn’t convinced. You yanked your pencil away from her mouth just in time to save it from her teeth as she jokingly tried to bite it. You laughed, casually checking for Eddie one more time and releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding when you saw the space he’d been occupying now empty.

Robin snaked her arm through yours, walking elbow to elbow with you towards your homeroom. “Maybe you’re right,” she conceded, voice lifting in an airy sort of way. “All I know is that the last time a guy offered me a ride, he was talking to my boobs.”

“Maybe he wanted to be friends with your boobs, then.” you shrugged.

Robin scoffed, nodding in agreement. “Oh I think that’s exactly what he wanted.” She made a show of shaking as an exaggerated shiver ran through her. “Ugh. Ew.”

Eddie exited the boys’ restroom just in time to hear your laughter ringing through the halls. It caught him off guard, his headphones in hand and hovering around his head as he poised to place them back over his ears, but then he heard your laugh.

When his eyes found you, the sight melted the edges of his stone-cold heart a little bit- you were arm in arm with that tall girl from band- Buckley, he’s pretty sure- your head thrown back, eyes scrunched closed, nose wrinkling, smiling wide as your laugh bounced musically among the sound of lockers slamming shut and footsteps shuffling to classrooms. Time slowed, his heartbeat skipped- he had made you laugh a couple times, but never like that. And he wanted to. He had no fucking clue why, but he wanted to hear that laugh every day. He wanted to be the one to elicit that much joy from you, to make your nose scrunch like that, to make you smile so big that he could see every tooth.

Recognizing this as a completely random and unnecessary train of thought, Eddie placed his headphones back on his ears as he made a mental note to learn where you sat during lunch.

Not because he wanted to sit with you or anything… he just wanted to know.

***

Nothing else changed until Wednesday.

You were sitting in your normal lunch spot- nestled in the soft green grass, leaning back against the trunk of the black cherry tree behind the school. You pulled your knees up to your chest and reveled in the way the springtime sunlight filtered through bright green leaves and tiny white flowers. In a word- it was heaven. And It was yours alone.

Until the soft scent of freshly blooming flowers began to mingle with the scent of cigarettes and Irish Spring- a smell you were now beginning to instantly recognize as Eddie.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked airily, taking a bite of your sandwich as Eddie leaned against the trunk of your tree, arm dangling nonchalantly. He smirked down at you as he surveyed what used to be your private lunch spot.

“I was wondering why I never see you in the cafeteria.” Eddie supplied, glancing up at the abundance of white flower petals that dotted the branches of the tree above your heads. It wasn’t a big tree, but big enough to provide shade with a trunk wide enough that you rested against it comfortably. “Cozy little spot you’ve got here.”

You smiled to yourself, answering through your bite of cucumber sandwich. “Yeah… I love it out here. The only downside is how easy it is to lose track of time- I actually didn’t wear a watch until I started spending lunches so far from the bell.” Eddie snorted, plopping down next to you on the surprisingly comfortable patch of grass.

“I am amazed that you’ve been able to get through seventeen years of your life without ever wearing a watch.” he laughed before- to your horror- beginning to poke through your lunchbox. You swatted his hand away like you would an unwanted pest, but not before he was able to swipe the other half of your sandwich. Without pausing for even a moment, he bit into the soft wonderbread and before you could protest, he took a couple of chews then promptly screwed up his face and spat the wad of chewed-up sandwich at the ground.

“The fuck kind of sandwich is this?” Eddie practically screeched, inspecting the insides of your cucumber sandwich with the utmost scrutiny. He peeled the sandwich apart, grimacing and holding the food gingerly between his thumb and forefinger.

While you were certainly frustrated that he was currently mangling half of your lunch, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out through your words. “It’s a cucumber sandwich, it’s just cucumbers and this mix of cream cheese with a bunch of herbs and stuff.” Eddie’s grimace only grew into an expression of pure disgust with each word you said. “What,” you laughed harder. “You don’t like cucumbers?”

Dropping the remnants of your now deconstructed sandwich back into your lunchbox, Eddie shook his head and wiped his hands on his ripped black jeans. “What I like are normal American sandwiches. What do you have against a classic ham and cheese?”

You smirked, taking a bite from an apple you’d brought to accompany your sandwich. “I’m a vegetarian.”

A second ago, Eddie had been disgusted. Now, he looked appalled. “I’m sorry to break this to you, but I don’t think this friendship is gonna work out.”

There was a smile tucked into the outer corners of his big brown eyes, and you knew there wasn’t any real finality to his words.

You played along anyway. “Damn, another friend lost because of cucumbers.”

Eddie’s shoulders shook in a silent chuckle, smiling wide and leaning in closer. “Okay, well now I need to know what happened to the last one.”

“Choked on a cucumber.” you said without thinking, “It was tragic really, a devastating loss.”

Eddie’s eyes widened just the slightest bit, his lips curling upward slowly.. After a second, you realized the blatant sexual innuendo that one could easily derive from your joke, and once the realization set in you also found it difficult to hold your laughter back.

“I appreciate your restraint in not making a joke about that.” you bit out.

Eddie shrugged, throwing you a toothy grin. “It would’ve been too easy.”

You gazed up at the sunlight filtering in through the flower-studded branches and sighed, lips curling up to match the slyness of his grin. “You know what wouldn’t be easy?”

“Deep-throating a cucumber?”

Your grin grew, brightening your eyes and crinkling their corners. “Exactly.”

Eddie snorted, you cackled. The sounds were abrasive on their own, one guttural while the other sounded like the sort of laugh you only let out in front of family or friends who’ve known you long enough to refrain from judging you for how loud the laugh was. However, when combined, your mixed laughter sounded complete- like yours had been missing his and his had been missing yours, and neither had ever sounded right without the other.

Laughter subsided. Eyes met, flower-filtered rays of sun creating distorted bits of light across both of your faces. A bit of that light hit Eddie’s left iris at just the right angle, transforming brown into the sweetest honey.

Your breath stuttered, only slightly.

Eddie swiped the apple from your hand, taking a bite from the opposite side that you had bitten into only once. He relaxed into the tree’s bark, as if this were something you two did every day at lunch. Smiling, laughing, sharing food. You weren’t opposed to getting used to it.

“So,” Eddie said around the crunch of crisp fruit, “you hang out with Buckley, right?”

“Since we were kids.” you replied, a fond expression fluttering over your face. “You remember, she was there that Halloween where you attacked my bedroom window.”

Eddie’s hand rose to rake the hair back from his face, open-mouthed grin huffing out another laugh. “Oh man, that was so long ago,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That was Buckley? The bony-looking girl with the pigtails? OW!”

You gave him a jab with your elbow. “Rude! She was not bony!”

“Okay, fine, gangly-”

“She was an eleven-year-old!” You laughed despite yourself, shifting slightly to angle your face closer to his. “Everyone looks gangly at eleven.”

“You’ve got a point, you were pretty gangly.”

You sat up straight, eyeing him in disbelief. “There is no way you remember what I looked like when I was eleven. We didn’t even know each other back then.”

Eddie flopped over onto his stomach, balancing his weight on his elbows. “You always wore the same pair of red mary janes.” Eddie inspected the apple in his hand, twisting it in the light and admiring the way the sun shone on the waxy red peel.

“We didn’t exactly hang out, y’know… but I remember liking your shoes.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he smoothed his thumb over the red fruit. “They were this exact shade of red.” His eyes flicked up to yours, smirking at your expression which must have looked completely caught off-guard, because well… you were.

“I, uh… I almost forgot about those shoes.” you nearly whispered. “I loved them so much, I think I really did wear them to shreds. I remember being heartbroken when my mom made me throw them out, but the sole was literally peeling away from the rest of the shoe, they needed to go.”

You chuckled, shaking your head at Eddie’s astoundingly good memory. “How on earth do you remember those shoes?”

Eddie rolled over, one hand resting beneath his curls, the other still holding the apple aloft, letting it glint in the sun. “I told you, I liked them. Red’s my favorite color, you know.”

You pulled your knees closer to your chest, relaxing against the tree trunk with a comfortable exhale. “Did you ever have something like that? A piece of clothing or pair of shoes you loved so much, you wanted to wear it every single day, never cared if it was dirty or not?”

Eddie thought for a minute, then answered decisively, “This jacket, probably.” You inspected his jacket further, the black leather slightly faded but definitely in good condition. He obviously took care of it, the zippers on the cuffs shone silver in the sunlight, and while the material was beginning to crinkle at the elbows, the wear did nothing to diminish the quality of the piece.

“It’s nice.” you said softly. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen you without it since we started high school.”

Eddie smiled fondly, “My uncle Wayne gave it to me for Christmas one year. I must have been, I don’t know, fifteen? The thing was huge on me at first, but I’d say I grew into it nicely.” Stretching his arms up to the sky, he surveyed the dark leather until the face of his watch caused his eyes to bulge. “Shit, we gotta go, lunch ended five minutes ago.”

Frantically, you checked your watch too, cringing when you saw that he was right. Hurriedly, you shut the metal clasps on your tin lunchbox and a few seconds later, you were both on your feet and rushing toward the lunchroom doors.

“Hey, um-” Eddie said, “If you ever wanna sit inside, don’t, ah… don’t hesitate to-” you turned to look at him, a half-smile playing at your mouth at the sight of this brash boy suddenly stumbling over his words.

“You saying I can sit with you?” You supplied. Eddie smiled, his face unable to hide his relief that you’d read his mind.

“Well, when you ask so nicely, it would be a crime to deny such a request.” Eddie waggled his eyebrows to match his wolfish grin. You laughed, shoving him softly. You rolled your eyes when he opened the door for you, gesturing overdramatically for you to enter and bowing low as if you were an empress and he your humble servant.

“And I guess if you ever crave the peace and quiet of my lunch spot,” you drawled, “I wouldn’t be too inconvenienced by the company.”

Dark eyebrows drawn together by a crinkle and a sarcastically serious expression, Eddie clasped his hands behind his back while he nodded his head. “Oh and I would hate to inconvenience you.”

“I know you would.” you nodded, matching his energy effortlessly. Both of your serious expressions cracked to make way for soft laughter simultaneously. You both arrived at your lockers quickly, your steps rushed out of fear for being late to class. The two of you opened your respective lockers, and the sounds of metal opening and closing rang through the nearly empty hallways.

The moment you were sure yours was locked, Eddie called out “Hey!”, to which you glanced over your shoulder at him just in time for him to toss something in your direction, which you miraculously caught with ease. You looked down at your hand to see your apple, once bitten on each side. You quirked an eyebrow at your peculiar lunch partner.

“You can finish it, I ate more than you did out there.” you said, but Eddie was already walking away, hand in the air waving you off.

“Keep it, vegetarian, can’t have you going anemic on me.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “See you, Eddie.” He spun around, walking backwards with his hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground after flicking up to yours for barely a second. “See ya.” he muttered, and that smile that caused his full lips to quirk up to one side was starting to become familiar in a way that made your chest feel full.

Once you were out of each other’s sight, you turned the apple over in your hand, studying the bites on each side. You could see from the marks left by his teeth that Eddie had an overbite. That he must really like apples, because the bite was sizable, the opposite of tentative. You could see that the light shone a little brighter around the bite where the juice from the apple must have seeped out onto his tongue when he bit into the fruit. You felt a strange sense of warmth thinking about the flavor of this thing held in your hand still lingering in his mouth.

Taking one last look at your twin bites, you lifted the apple to your lips, adding a third bite between his and yours. The sweet juice from the apple flooded your taste buds, and you felt something within you hum contentedly as you raced to beat the bell.

***

The cafeteria on Thursday was buzzing with the noise and energy of a hundred antsy Hawkins teens. Eddie plopped his ass down at his usual seat at his usual table, reaching into his pocket eagerly to grab the two Slim Jims he’d swiped from the pantry before rushing out his trailer door that morning. He remembered to bring a lunch sometimes, but most often defaulted to eating whatever slop the lunch ladies had to offer… if it was edible. Today, he had taken one look at the styrofoam cup filled with what was supposed to be chicken pot pie (it looked more like jizz mixed with peas and carrots, complete with a square of pie crust floating on top) and knew he would just have to deal with a growling stomach until he got home from school.

He was just about to peel open the first stick of jerky when divine providence dropped a gift down on the table in front of him. He paused, surveying the shining tin lunchbox sitting on his table- black with a bright red handle, the logo for Star Wars spelled out across the front accompanied by the image of a TIE Fighter firing at an X-Wing.

Eddie’s friends were already seated with their lunches at the table, and he followed their confused expressions to see you crossing behind him to take the empty seat by his side. The entire table remained silent.

You proceeded to open your own lunch- a simple green and blue thermos that held what looked to be a mixture of beans and rice. You opened up the collapsible spoon that attached to the lid and looked about ready to dig in when you took notice of the deadly silence, as well as every pair of eyes trained on you.

You glanced at the flabbergasted teens, then raised an eyebrow at Eddie. “Didn’t tell your friends that you invited me to sit with you?”

Eddie’s eyes were wide still, but his open mouth turned up at the corners as he placed his hands on the Star Wars lunchbox, turning it this way and that under his appraising gaze. “Ignore them” He held the lunchbox up beside his face, puppy dog eyes shining in full force. “Is this for little old me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well yesterday, you pillaged my lunch because you’re obviously a starved dumpster raccoon,” you heard a snort a few seats down from you, though you didn’t look to see which Hellfire member approved of your sense of humor. “-so I made you your own. You can thank me by keeping your hands off my red beans and rice.”

“I didn’t know we’d have a guest joining us today.”

The voice came from the head of the table where Rick had just taken his seat. As the oldest member of the friend group, Rick had inherited the coveted spot at the head of the table. While Eddie loved Rick like a brother, he couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t just itching for the greasy-looking drug dealer to finally walk the stage in a couple months and bequeath that seat to Eddie. The rest of the guys already looked up to him- Hellfire was his, since Rick had never wanted any part in it, so from the moment he’d assumed the mantle of Dungeon Master last year, Hellfire had unofficially belonged to Eddie. Now, Rick was the only senior in their little group, so come next year- Eddie would be king of the table. It was small, and in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter- but Eddie ached for that seat nonetheless.

You eyed Rick curiously, chewing on a bite of your rice and beans. “Eddie extended an invitation yesterday.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly toward the senior. “Was I supposed to fill out an application or something…?” Your tone was light, joking. Rick’s eyes took you in, and it irked Eddie a bit that Rick seemed to think he had some sort of final say about whether or not you were allowed at the table- this was just as much Eddie’s table as it was his, right? What did he care if someone new joined your group for lunch every once in a while?

Rick hmphed and relaxed into his chair, apparently deeming you worthy of keeping your seat. When he made no moves to answer your quip about filling out an application, you made a face and proceeded to continue eating your lunch. You leaned closer to Eddie, whispering to him out of Rick’s earshot “He always like this?”

Eddie smiled, toying with the shiny clasps on the Star Wars lunchbox. “Eh, he has his moments. But I am far more interested in what treasures lurk inside this box…” His thumbs flicked open both clasps, then looked suspiciously at you through his overgrown curly bangs. “This isn’t a mimic, is it?”

You snorted. “What?”

“Like, is this thing going to try and eat me when I open it?”

Judging by the chuckles from a couple other tablemates, there was some sort of joke you weren’t getting. You smiled wryly and shook your head. “No,” you laughed, “hopefully it’ll be the other way around, unless you have some kind of aversion to homemade chocolate chip cookies.”

Eddie’s eyes widened before practically ripping the lid of the lunchbox off its hinges. You laughed at the excited little gasp that escaped him when he saw the ziploc bags holding a ham and cheese sandwich, two cookies, apple slices, and a little juice box. Turning those doe eyes to you, Eddie held up the sandwich like it was a precious commodity.

“The vegetarian made me a ham and cheese sandwich,” he smiled. “Have I converted you to the dark side?”

You rolled your eyes. “I can handle touching it, I just don’t want to eat it.”

Oh. Oh that did not come out right.

Eddie’s lips pressed together, cheeks ballooning with a laugh that fought to breach the surface. You, however, couldn’t hold back a snort. You braced your elbow on the table, forehead resting in your hand as you shook your head in disbelief. “God, that one was bad.” Your shoulders shook, laughing at yourself along with Eddie, whose laughter had burst forth after you’d given him permission with your own self-deprecating humor.

Lunch flowed smoothly from there- the rest of the table fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, and you didn’t mind the jokes that went over your head, the way these boys discussed movies you hadn’t seen and asked Eddie questions about his plans for their upcoming Dungeons & Dragons session tomorrow. Before you knew it, you found yourself feeling comfortable at the Hellfire table. Eddie tore his way through the lunch you’d made him, even going as far as to moan dramatically when he bit into one of the cookies. He’d rolled his eyes back and thrown his entire weight in your direction, going limp against you as he chewed reverently on the sweet confection.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he’d groaned, a couple of crumbs falling onto his lapels. “Bury me in these cookies, I’ll die happy and regret nothing.” You’d laughed, struggling to shove him away while he made a show of dying dramatically only to resurrect, take another bite, then die again.

People didn’t usually pay attention to the “freak” table during lunch, but if anyone did happen to glance your way that day, they would hear laughter tinkling like raindrops on a tin roof; see the seeds of a friendship beginning to bud in the most unlikely of places.

A few minutes before lunch ended, you proclaimed that you had a question about last night’s homework and needed to leave a few minutes early for class. Eddie thanked you for the lunch, adding in a more serious tone that you really didn’t need to make him lunch and that he owed you for the cookies, to which you replied that he could thank you by giving you a ride home after Hellfire tomorrow.

“I was already planning on it.” he’d replied with a grin.

When you’d taken your leave of the table, Rick spoke up for the first time since your exchange at the beginning of lunch. “So is your girlfriend sitting with us going to be a regular thing now?” Other conversations at the table ceased, everyone’s curiosity piqued by Rick’s mention of the elephant in the room. Eddie Munson, bringing a girl to sit with his friends at lunch? This was uncharted territory.

Eddie bristled. “Who said she was my girlfriend?” he narrowed his eyes at Rick, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Rick leaned in, raising an eyebrow as his voice took up a teasing tone. “Oh you’re just buddies, huh?” Eddie nodded. Rick shook his head. “Nu-uh, nope. Not possible.”

Eddie scoffed, struggling to mask his irritation. He liked Rick- most of the time- but he wished his friend would just drop the subject. “Alright man, I’ll play along. Why?”

Rick smiled smugly, relaxing back into his chair and placing both hands leisurely behind his head. “Girls and guys can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.”

Jeff, a brace-faced sophomore sitting across from Eddie, muttered “They were being pretty friendly with each other-” The venomous look Eddie shot at him shut Jeff up before he could say any more.

Eddie turned back to Rick, his trademark smirk painting itself across his face as he matched Rick’s arrogant air. “What, Rick, are you so deprived that you don’t know how to be friends with a girl without trying to get in her pants?” A chorus of oooooo’s fluttered throughout the table, and Eddie felt a surge of pride when a flicker of annoyance flared behind Rick’s eyes. All it did was amp Eddie up even more.

“Unlike some men, I’m able to hold a civilized conversation with a woman without turning into a neanderthal and drooling like a dog.” Eddie crossed one leg over the other, shrugging his shoulders as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not just a man’s world anymore, gentlemen, I’m just keeping with the times.”

Rick shook his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded denim jeans. “Whatever you say, man. But don’t tell me if she asked, you wouldn’t be all over that.”

Keeping his cool, Eddie shook his head and retained his cool composure. “Please,” he scoffed, “like anyone could handle all of this.” Eddie gestured to the entirety of his person, adding a hair flip for good measure. Even Rick couldn’t hold back his laughter at that.

“Yeah, you’re full of shit, Munson.” Rick chuckled. Eddie placed his elbows on the table, chin resting on his fists as he fluttered his eyelashes at Rick, who laughed even harder and gave Eddie a shove. The rest of the table also descended into laughter, and all was well now that the tension between the two oldest Hellfire members had subsided.

However, as Eddie exited the cafeteria with the rest of his friends, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Rick had said.

Girls and guys can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.

Was that true? It was such an archaic way of thinking in Eddie’s opinion, and he had no doubt that men and women were, in theory, perfectly capable of having sexless, platonic relationships with each other.

But could he? With you?

Eddie could admit that when he’d been a kid, he had felt those familiar pre-pubescent butterflies when you’d shoved him to the ground on Halloween all those years ago. But the confusing feelings of a thirteen-year-old boy and the effortless way the two of you had begun to fit together like puzzle pieces whenever you spent time together- they were completely unrelated.

Besides, Eddie remembered the conversation you’d had last week in his van. How you’d said if someone like him were to start seriously dating somebody at school, everyone would talk about it. A friendship might make the wrong people take notice of you, and if that happened Eddie would handle it… somehow. He didn’t want to see you go through the bullying he’d had to endure his whole life. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, much less someone he cared about.

It hit Eddie then… the strange fact that he did, indeed, care about you.

As a friend.

As long as things stayed that way, you could come and go from his little group as you pleased. You were free to be his friend when you felt like it, but could extricate yourself from him when it mattered. When it was dangerous to be a freak. You were safe that way; if by some crazy stroke of fate you decided you wanted more- decided to attach yourself to him publicly and seriously… Eddie couldn’t protect you from all the possible ramifications of a proclamation like that.

The decision had been made. As Eddie strode down the halls on his way to class, he concluded that he would be your friend. That you would be his, as long as that was what you wanted. And the sex part would never get in the way, because it would never even be an option. Even if he ever wanted that… he would never act on it. And there was no way you would ever want that either, so it would never be an issue.

That was that.

***

That night, you baked more chocolate chip cookies. You doubled the recipe to ensure that there were not only enough for every member of Hellfire to have at least two each during the session tomorrow, but also enough for Eddie to take the rest home.

And for some reason, you couldn’t wipe away the stupid little smile that kept slapping itself onto your face whenever you imagined Eddie biting into one of those cookies tomorrow, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned about how good they tasted. Your cheeks warmed when you wondered if he would once again jokingly go limp against your shoulder, pressing into you with the full weight of his body.

If he did, you weren’t sure you’d want to push him away this time.

Part 3

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #friends to enemies to lovers #when harry met sally #eddie x reader #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

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