#i will write 5k a day for a week straight

[geralts-yenn]

Something like that - Part 2

Syverson (Sandcastle) x female reader (second-person pov)

summary: this is the second part of Something like that, a sequel to bonfire - Sy is finally taking you on a date. You spend the rest of the evening at the cabin with Sy

warnings: mention of previous relationship/breakup, masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, p-i-v sex, oral (f receiving), praise kink, tiny hint of breeding kink, edging, Sy in the shower

word count: 5k

A/N: I finally got around to finishing the second part of our first date with Sy. I got a lot of inspiration over the last few weeks, @martha-oi doing her best to make us all want to write for Sy 😁

Inspo board for this part can be found here!

I'd love to get some feedback. Please don't hesitate to reblog, comment, ask. Like all my fellow writers, I long for every bit of interaction with my readers. If you want to make my day, hit reblog and tell me what you think🥰

My masterlist

Part 1

Everything felt just perfect as you were snuggled into Sy's chest. You switched between talking, kissing and just listening to the crickets and each other's heart beats. From time to time, Sy pressed soft kisses on your hair.

It took you a while until you finally dared to ask what had been on your mind ever since the night at the bonfire.

“Sy?” You felt his hum vibrating in his chest. “Why did it take you so long to ask for a date? And why did you cancel it when you knew you had to leave?“

Sy took a deep breath and you knew he was searching for the right words. He pressed another kiss on your temple before he gave you his answer.

“Oh, darlin‘, how can I explain this to you without making a fool out of myself? I was scared. I was scared of fucking things up, of screwing up the one chance I finally had to get what I always wanted.“ 

You sat up straight so you could look into his eyes. “What you always wanted?”

Sy chuckled softly and rubbed his hands over your arms.  

“I was alone for a long time, there was no one that I could see myself with. And then you walked into my life and I just knew you were the one. But then I feared you wouldn’t want me. And when I was finally sure you'd give us a try, I had to leave. I panicked, thinking you’d send me a Dear John letter. And that would have destroyed me.“ He took another deep breath. 

“I guess that’s nothing to discuss on a first date, but dammit, we waited too long for anything else… I always wanted something like that.“ He gestured at you and your surroundings. “The whole package; a sweet woman, a house, a dog and a bunch of kids.” He paused, carefully studying your reaction before he went on: “And I'm still fucking scared I will mess this up!”

Your heart was thumping in your chest as you listened to his words. And when he stopped, you didn’t know what to say, so you just crushed your mouth against his and gave him a kiss that you hoped would convince him how much you wanted that, too. 

When you broke away, he glanced at you, the corners of his mouth slightly curled up. ”Does this mean I didn't scare you away with my speech?” he asked and you couldn't help but give him another peck.

"This means your speech helped you sneak deeper into my heart than ever before.” He let out a sigh and you both got back to kissing, your shoulders feeling so much lighter than before. 

***

The sun was slowly setting, and the sky changed into shades of orange and purple. You peered over the smooth surface of the lake, mirroring the warm colors. “Are we staying the night, or do we have to drive back?” 

“I would love to spend the night here, but I can also drive you home if you'd like to, sugar.” His face couldn't hide the hope he had that you wanted to stay, too. 

You got up and dropped the towel that was wrapped around your chest. “Great, I would have hated to drive home with wet hair!” Never losing eye contact with Sy, you slowly walked backwards to the end of the pier. His gaze couldn’t hide in the slightest how much he liked what he saw. Sy sucked on his lower lip and leaned forward, resting his hands on his thighs. You could have sworn you saw his cock twitch. Dipping your toe into the water, you checked the temperature and when you decided that you'd live, you turned and jumped headfirst into the lake. 

When you broke through the surface again, you heard Sy laughing and seconds later he cannonballed into the water, splashing it right into your face. 

It didn’t take long until you felt his erection pressing against your skin and you couldn’t stop thinking how you wanted him to use it, to split you open and take you. A shiver ran down your spine.

“Gosh, sugar, we’ll be freezing to death in here!” he uttered in between hitched breaths. Your head fell back in laughter. Could that big bear that always radiated heat really be cold? Wrapping your body around his, you kissed him on his neck.

“I’m gonna help you warm up, okay?” Your lip brushed over the stubble on his throat as you spoke. A deep growl was all you got as an answer before Sy pulled you closer to his chest. His tongue forced your lips open and he entered your mouth with vigor.

“You’re gonna get chilled to the bone, darlin’, let me get you out of here.” He was right, but still, you pouted because you just didn’t want to leave. This was the most beautiful and most romantic thing that had ever happened to you and you didn’t want it to be over yet.

Sy swam back to the pier with you in his arm. He climbed the ladder and held out his hand for you to take. You hadn’t even put a foot onto the wooden planks before he pulled you into his arms again Maybe it was his kiss or maybe it was the small gust of wind that brushed over your wet body, but you shuddered once more.

“Yeah, enough of that. Next time you’re trembling, it’s because I made you come on my tongue, darlin’.” Okay, perhaps you were ready to leave this romantic scene and see what else Sy had planned for you.

Sy dropped all your stuff on the couch and gave you a light slap on your bottom. “Bathroom is over there. Get into the shower, baby. I'll get a fire going, and then I’ll join you, okay?” You bit your lip in anticipation. The thought of Sy in the shower with you made you clench your thighs. 

Sy wrapped your towel around you and started to gather all the stuff the two of you had dropped on your way to the lounger. Even with his arms stuffed with clothes, he managed to open the door for you like the gentleman he was.

And when you stepped into the small cabin, you realized that you hadn’t seen the peak of cheesy romance yet today. The room in front of you was so cozy. Blankets were thrown over the old couch. The wooden floor was covered with a fluffy rug in front of a fireplace. There wasn’t a fire yet, but you knew Sy would change that soon. And the fairy lights that were glimmering on the walls made it look just so cozy. 

“Having fun in there, Sugar?” Sy chuckled, and you knew exactly how that smirk was spreading across his face, even if you couldn’t see him. The door opened and a pair of hands grabbed your hips. Sy parted your legs with his thigh, and one of his hands moved over your side until his fingers joined yours. 

“Don’t make me wait too long, Sy!” you told him before you turned to the bathroom. He was smart enough that he had switched on the small electric radiator, and you sighed as the warmth in the room settled around your body.

Gladly the water in the shower was hot too, and soon you leaned against the tiles, enjoying the water running down your back. The room was filled with steam. Your mind went back to the moment earlier today when Sy had covered you in his cum. Your fingers circled the bundle of nerves between your legs and you moaned.

“Dammit, baby, you’re so hot when you’re doing that.” His teeth sank into your neck, and he sucked on your skin, surely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. His cock was hard as it pressed against your ass. 

His hand left you again when he turned you to face him. Your own moved to his chest, but Sy grabbed it and positioned it back to your pussy. He took a step back and shook his head. "Uh-uh, don't stop. I wanna watch you come over your pretty lil' fingers, sugar.” 

For a moment, you wanted to hide, feeling insecure and vulnerable with Sy's eyes on you. But as you saw him standing there, his throbbing cock standing tall, you shut your eyes and focused on your feelings. 

The sensation of your fingers, moving over your swollen pearl, applying some pressure, made you forget your surroundings quickly. Your other hand joined, gathering the slick before the water could wash it off, and you let two of your fingers slip into you. You were chasing your high, rubbing, pumping into you, desperate moans falling from your mouth.

“Just look at you, baby, doing so well. Making me so hard just from watching.” You opened your eyes again. Seeing Sy slowly fisting his cock as he watched you with hooded eyes, made you tumble over the edge, screaming his name. Your knees gave out as your pussy clenched around your fingers. Sy took you in his arms and pressed gentle kisses on your face. 

“You are the most gorgeous thing ever when you come, darlin’,“ he whispered in your ear. His cock was pressing against your hip as he cradled you in his arms and you just knew you needed to feel him once more. 

“Please fuck me, Sy!” you told him bluntly. And he didn’t need to hear it a second time. His arms wrapped around your thighs as he lifted you, and then he had you pinned against the wall, his cock slipping into your wet pussy effortlessly.

The moment it went in was always something that made you weak. But the ferocity with which Sy entered you now was so intense, it left you whimpering. Your fingers dug deep into the flesh of his back. By the way he took you, you knew there would be bruises along your spine and on your thighs tomorrow, but those would only be sweet memories of how Sy had made you see stars. 

And that he did, more than once. He fucked you relentlessly, slamming his hips into yours, accompanied by his deep grunts.

“Not gonna last much longer, sugar! You want me to come deep inside of you? Want me to fill your sweet little pussy?” Alone the thought of having his seed inside of you made your walls flutter.

“Fill me up Sy, please! I need to feel your cum dripping out of me.” There was another deep growl and he managed to get even deeper. You felt him grow bigger and shudder, and then he finally painted your pussy with his load. 

Sy carefully put you down on your feet again and pressed his forehead against yours. 

“You're making me act so hot-headed and greedy, darlin'. I promise, I will be more composed next time. Gonna take my sweet time with you.” You just couldn't hold back an incredulous laugh. 

“Are you seriously apologizing for what you did to me? For making me come multiple times? You're something else, Sy!” His cheeks were glowing red and you asked yourself if this was due to the hot water, to his efforts or if you were maybe right, thinking he looked almost shy.

While Sy was rummaging around in the kitchen, you made your way to the bedroom, deciding it was time to finally get dressed again. At least making yourself halfway decent by putting on some panties and a shirt. You hoped to get your hands on one of Sy's. But sadly, his stuff was apparently still on the couch in the living room.

You opened the wardrobe and there was a collection of comfy looking knitted sweaters and sweatpants. But those were probably Sy's cousin’s, so you took your backpack and fished for the silky camisole you had packed in the hopes of spending the night at Sy's.

With a sigh, you let yourself fall onto the bed. Your heart was so full of joy right now, it was overwhelming. Your eyes roamed through the room. It was small, the bed filling it out almost completely, but it was so comfy. There were more fairy lights draped over the headboard. You wondered how often Sy's cousin used this cabin to seduce his dates. And if Sy had done so before, too. 

This made you feel a little knot in your stomach. But you didn't dwell on it for long as you found what was lying on the bedside table.

“Sy, are you serious? A first date in a secluded cabin in the woods and then this?” As you circled the corner to meet Sy in the kitchen, you let the handcuffs dangle from your fingers.

Sy huffed in surprise, only to throw his head back in laughter the next moment.

“Guess that's my cousin's way of telling us to have fun.” You wrinkled your forehead, not sure how to take it. 

Sy wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in a hug.

“He's a good guy, a cop even. Trust me?” he asked. And of course, you did. To be truly honest, you could totally see you and Sy having fun with those. You shook your head and put the handcuffs on the table. 

Sy’s back shielded you from seeing what he was doing. You wrapped your arms around him, trying to get a glimpse over his shoulder but he shushed you out of the kitchen. 

“Why don’t you sit down in front of the fire, darlin’? I’ll be with you in a minute.” You considered the couch for a minute, but then you chose to sit down on the plushy fake fur rug. If we go for tacky romantic cliché, why not go all the way? And Sy didn’t lie when he said he’d be right there with you. Just after you settled on the floor, he was behind you, carrying two flutes of champagne in his big paw, while the other one held a bowl with strawberries. You helped him put all of it down on the antique trunk that served as a coffee table. 

It could have been perfect. If your mind had just been quiet. But sadly, your insecurities resurfaced exactly now. You really didn’t want to think about it, but you couldn’t help it. It just appeared in your head. And before you could bite your tongue, it had slipped out of your mouth.

Sy sat down next to you, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before he fed you a strawberry. The second you had swallowed, his mouth was back on yours, kissing you fiercely. “Sweet little thing you are,” he said, licking his lip.

“That’s so corny!” you laughed. “Who would have thought the big captain was such a hopeless romantic?” But to your surprise, Sy didn’t seem to be uncomfortable in any way. You’d rather say he appeared to be proud. And rightfully so. You were totally smitten with the man sitting at your side.

“So, how many girls have you already allured in this cabin with those cheesy little tricks, Sy?” What a way to kill the mood. Sy’s face changed immediately. His eyebrows were drawn together, a deep furrow formed on his forehead. He moved away a few inches. Damn, you really had to screw up this moment? You saw the disappointed expression on his face, and you knew you had to apologize. It was none of your business what Sy had done with other women before you two had started dating. You were already mumbling a few words, but Sy interrupted you by pressing his finger onto your lips. 

“Listen, baby! I shared the bed out here in this cabin only with two other people. With Walter and Evan.” Your face surely mirrored your confusion because Sy added: “My cousins!” He took one of your hands into his and started rubbing his thumb over your palm. 

“I already told you earlier. I haven’t been with someone for quite some time. If you like, I can tell you about it. Maybe it will help you realize and accept how special you are to me.” His eyes stared deep into yours, as you nodded for him to go on.

“I met Charlotte in high school. She was smart and cute, and I had the feeling that she liked me, not only as the captain of the football team, but me, my personality. She was my first love, my first everything. I thought about asking her to become my wife when I had to leave overseas for the first time. Thank god, I didn’t.”

Sy paused, catching a breath. “I had been out of the country for ten weeks when her letter arrived. I was so excited to hear from her. But then, after I had read the first sentences, I was broken. It was a Dear John letter. A classic. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. We can stay friends. You will always have a place in my heart… I swore never to let anyone that close to my heart again. And I stayed true to that. Until I met you.” 

Your mouth felt dry. There was so much you wanted to say, but somehow no word found its way out of your mouth. Sy lifted one of his hands and brushed his knuckles over your cheek. You parted your lips once more and managed to mouth a shaky “Why me?”

Sy chuckled, his eyes drifting off, as if he was focusing on something you couldn’t see. “That day on the beach. I can’t explain why. I was mesmerized by you. The way you laughed with Megan. When I watched you reading. I just knew that you are different. I couldn’t let the chance go to learn why I was so drawn to you. And then we talked. You were so fuckin’ cute when I saw that filthy book. I wanted to kiss you and tell you that I wanted to do all those things to you. But of course, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to scare you away. And when you jumped into my arms that evening, the only thing I could think of was that I wanted to never put you down again. You should have just stayed there forever, your legs wrapped around me and your head on my shoulder. On that day, I realized that you saw me. The real me! And you liked it. I couldn’t do anything other than open my heart for you.”

“You didn’t learn all of this from your high school sweetheart, did you?” You made sure to show him an honestly amused smile. Sy raised his eyebrow with a smirk.

You practically jumped into Sy’s lap and crashed your mouth onto his. That man did not only know how to plan the perfect date, he also knew exactly how to use his words to make you fall in love with him so hard.

You made out on that stupid rug, sharing deep kisses, grinding your bodies against each other. Sy found the perfect spots for his mouth, for his hands and for his hips to drive you crazy. After you had moaned his name another time into his mouth, a new thought crossed your mind. This time it wasn’t jealousy that formed it, only upright curiosity.

“All of this?” he asked, even if he knew perfectly well what you were talking about.  With an eye roll, you gave him what he wanted to hear:

“You fuck like a sex god, Sy! How did you learn that if you were alone all the time?” A smile played on the corner of your mouth as you took in how Sy puffed out his chest at your statement.

“Sugar, I said I let no one near my heart. I didn’t say I was living like the fucking pope!”

You chuckled and ran your hand over his chest. “I like those skills, you know?” 

“That’s my good girl!” he praised you. Another few soft licks along your entrance. “That’s it, doing so good for me, baby!” 

Sy laughed. “Thought so!” His hands brushed along your sides to tickle you and you squirmed in his lap. Another gentle touch along your rib cage made you fall onto your back. Your legs were opened wide before him and your shirt had slid up to expose the underside of your breasts.

And that changed the mood in the room another time. Sy watched you with hooded eyes as your chest was heaving.

“Darlin’ you know what makes me really mad right now? We’ve been together for hours and I still haven’t gotten my mouth on your beautiful sweet pussy.” He was really pouting at you, and you couldn’t hold back a laugh. But it got stuck in your throat when Sy pulled down your panties in one swift motion and sank his head between your thighs. His arm wrapped around your waist, he held you in place while he was running his tongue through your folds. By the time he was switching between circling your sweet spot and rolling it between his lips, your screams echoed from the walls. You wriggled in the arm that was still hooked around your frame, trying to move closer to him, to find enough friction, so you could finally find your release. But Sy was having none of it; he was holding you down, giving you just the amount to keep you on the edge.

“Please, Sy! I need to come!” you begged him, but he only hummed into your mound. He kept just lapping and sucking and licking and making you go insane. A deep growl came from him, and you saw him pressing his hips into the floor in search of some release for himself. “Let me come, Sy! Please!” you screamed, frantic by now by the way he was edging you, and Sy finally had mercy. He doubled his efforts with his tongue while he pushed two fingers into you. From then, it needed just some more pumps until you came undone at last. 

Your legs were shaking uncontrollably while the rest of your body felt boneless, like you were melting into the floor. 

Sy got on his knees beside you and lifted you up as if you weighed nothing. He carried you into the bedroom and carefully put you down onto the mattress. After pressing a chaste kiss onto your head, he slid his boxers down his thighs and lay down on the bed behind you.

"You up for another round or do you need some sleep, sugar?" he asked you and by the sound of it you knew it was an honest question. He wanted you to feel comfortable, whatever it was that you needed right now.

"You promised me some love making," you told him lazily, and you could feel Sy grin into the crook of your neck, his whiskers tickling your soft skin.

"So that's what you'll get," he whispered into your ear. With another firm grip, he turned you on your back and settled between your legs. And then made up to his promise and took his sweet time. 

There were tender kisses and gentle touches. There were fingers slowly trailing along your body. Lips that brushed over sensitive skin. And words, so many lovely words that he purred into your ears. 

"I want to feel your skin on mine. I want your breath in my hair. I want your hands on my body. Every day, darlin!"

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession.

"I want that, too, Sy. I want you!" While your tongues danced with each other, you felt his cock press against your mound, and you almost regretted that you had asked him to take it slowly. 

But when he entered you, when he slowly moved, there was no regret left. You devoured his kisses, you relished his weight that was pressing you down, you savored feeling him inside of you with every of his languid strokes. This time it wasn't chasing pleasure, it was feeling each other deeply. It was making love.

***

It took you a second to remember where you were when you woke up. Your next thought was that something felt wrong. That blissful warmth that had you enveloped the whole night was gone. You opened one eye and turned to see that the spot next to you was empty. Sadness pooled in your stomach. Your arm brushed over the sheets and it felt cold. Sy had left you alone in the bed for a while already.

Pouting, you got up. Your first guess was to find him in the bathroom. To your further disappointment, the shower showed that it had been used, but the adonis-like body was nowhere to be seen. 

With a sigh, you chose to go through your bathroom routine before you carried on with your search.

And while you were brushing your teeth you took in something that you hadn't noticed until now. There was a scent of fresh baked bread lingering in the air.

Curious, you didn't bother getting dressed. You opened the door to the main room and there he was. Just in his boxers he was standing at the counter, dipping his hips to a song he was quietly humming. 

The scent of freshly baked goods was a lot stronger here. On your tiptoes you carefully approached him. You didn't want to interrupt the scene. Wanted to get as much of that picture as possible. Your man, singing in the kitchen, making you breakfast. 

Your arms were already stretched out to wrap around him when you heard his mirthful voice:

"Mornin' sugar!" He turned and pressed a kiss on your forehead. You hummed as you leaned into his touch. 

As he retreated you took in your surroundings. It wasn’t chaotic, but you could tell that Sy had been quite busy in the kitchen. There were eggshells and remains of flour on the counter, a bowl with remnants of dough was standing in the sink. You bent forward to take a glimpse into the oven. There was a whole tray full of bread rolls, already showing a golden crust.

“You didn’t get up to make homemade rolls, Sy?” you asked, even if it was obvious that he, in fact, had done exactly that. Sy pulled you back into his arms with a proud smile on his face.

“Forgot to bring bread and I was hungry. And I thought you might need some nutrients, too, after last night.” He wouldn’t ever stop being a smug bastard, and you loved him for it. Ah, no, you couldn’t say you love him, not that soon, right? Better not think about it anymore, so you decided to get back to kissing him.

Those kisses smoothly transformed into a making out session and it didn’t take long until Sy had his hands on your rear and lifted you up to sit on the counter. He glanced over to the timer of the oven and smiled. “We got another fifteen minutes. Any idea how to fill that time?” 

Your hands trailed down his back to the waistband of his boxer briefs, your fingers slipping under it, so you could cup his glorious rear.

“I might have an idea of what you could fill,” you cooed and Sy answered with a snort. He pressed his groin to your center, and you could feel that he was on board with your suggestion. Four hands were working to pull down his underwear and the next moment he lined up his swollen head at your already dripping entrance. 

The alarm of the timer went off exactly as you left the shower and Sy went for the kitchen, wrapped in a towel, not without a small slap on your butt. After you got dressed you found him on the deck. He had the bread rolls, jam, peanut butter and the strawberries that you had left behind yesterday, displayed on the table. There was a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you. 

Without hesitation, he plunged all the way into you and started to pound hard. Your pussy was sore by now, but you couldn’t care less. Gasping, you took him, as deep as he could reach. The tip of his cock brushed over your most sensitive spot with every thrust, and he had you moaning and crying out his name in no time.

You came around his cock, clenching him with your tightening walls, bringing him over the edge with you. Still connected, Sy lifted you up and carried you to the shower. He shielded you from the water with his broad back until it was warm enough. Then he put you down on your feet again and started to lather your whole body.

Sy leaned against a post and looked out over the lake, another mug of coffee in his hand. You could get used to this sight in the morning. Somehow seeing Sy like this was comforting. When he noticed you, he held out his arm and you leaned into his embrace, snuggling into his still bare chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair and mumbled: “Let’s get you something to eat, sugar.” 

You spent most of the morning sitting by the lake, talking and kissing. Sy fed you warm bread rolls and more strawberries. By the time you had finished a second cup of coffee, you both knew it was time to pack your stuff and get home. You were meant to meet Megan tonight and Sy had promised his mom to show up for dinner. 

A sigh escaped you when you stepped out of the cabin a last time and Sy locked the door. You both stared over the water once more, Sy’s arms wrapped around you tightly. “Did you enjoy this, baby?” he asked. You turned to look at him and cupped his cheek, your hand looking so small on his beautiful face.

“This was the best first date I ever had, Sy.” you told him. Sy hummed, content with your answer. “That’s good, darlin’. Because it will be the last first date you’ve ever been on.”

[mentally-in-northern-italy]

the right time — j.f.

** not my gif **

Summary: Jeremiah's confession of his true feelings for you always seems to die on his tongue. Until one day, they finally find their way out - AKA the three times that Jeremiah tries to confess, and the one time he finally does.

Requested: request can be found here

Word Count: ~5K

A/N: jeeeez. i got carried away with this one. i had so so so much fun writing this so i hope you enjoy it!! so sorry again for the wait but hopefully this makes up for some(?) of it? i also changed up some aspects of it from the request, so i hope that's ok!!! anyways i have a few hp requests sitting in my inbox and i wanna publish them in the next week or so, so be on the lookout :)

—

Jeremiah had always been a bit of a fan of ripping off band-aids. He liked the finality of it, the speed of it, the elated feeling that always enveloped him after the fact. He liked getting it done in one go and never thinking about it again. Whenever he watched Steven slowly peel his band-aids off his skin, he would cringe all over, wanting to shout at him to just be done with it. 

He berated himself now, as he sat on your bed, when he couldn’t seem to take his own advice. He could never listen to his better senses when it came to you. No matter how hard he tried. 

And he tried really, really hard. 

He knew that he should just tell you. The confession had been boiling on his tongue for years now – after all, he had figured out the magnitude of his feelings for you when you two were only twelve years old. 

His feelings, evidently, did not like the confinement either as they only seemed to grow in size over the years. It was not a mere twelve-year-old crush anymore, and he knew that. Perhaps that was why his tongue always collapsed at the weight of it, why he couldn’t vocalize it.

It was a bit ironic, really, how flirty he could be with everyone else and barely mean the sweet words tumbling out of his mouth but when it was you, he couldn’t verbalize even the most sincere, genuine feelings. His flirtatious jokes always seemed to fly right past your head as you shook them off to just be “Jere being Jere”. 

“Alright, red or blue?” You questioned, holding both of your tops up. You raised your eyebrows at the golden-haired boy sprawled on your bed, his arms supporting his weight as he leaned back. 

“Hmm,” he pretended to be deep in thought with a half-smile on his face. “You’re going to look smokin’ hot in either, so…” He finished with a soft shrug of his shoulders, trying his best to maintain his easy-going facade, even in this situation. 

Even when he is helping you pick out something to wear to a date with someone other than him. 

“Jere,” you said with a straight face to drive home the seriousness of this situation. This was not the time for jokes. 

“Seriously, though,” he sat up as he ran a hand through his hair with nonchalance, “You could wear a potato sack to this thing and your date would still be drooling the entire time. In fact,” he stood up, pretending to walk towards the door, “I think Mom might have one in the pantry. I can go check–”

“Jer!” you grabbed his arm as you tried your best to smother a laugh at his antics and pushed him back on the bed. “Please. Which one?”

He pouted a little as he considered the options, pretending once again to be uber-serious about this. Without meaning to, he found his eyes leaving the red and blue tops you were holding up and wandering to your face. He took it in like he had all the time in the world. 

“Red,” he said with an easy smile, which he was glad to see you return with the same ease. If this was all it took to make you smile like that, then he would be more than happy choosing your outfits for an eternity. “You look gorgeous in red. But, any guy would be lucky to see you in either.”

You grinned a little at his flattery and tried to ignore how his compliments made your stomach twist with something that you were all too familiar with when it came to Jeremiah and his sweet talk. “Well then, lucky you, you’ve won the lottery today. You’ve seen me in both.” 

He chuckled as he shook his head slightly. “Yeah. Lucky me.” 

And he tried his best to ignore the faint pang in his chest as he watched you turn away to face the mirror and fix your hair before going into the bathroom to change tops. 

He watched you close the bathroom door and he chewed on his lip nervously – which was not something he normally did. Rip the band-aid off, he found himself thinking. Just tell her.

“[Y/N]?” 

“Yeah?” Your muffled voice came from within the bathroom and Jeremiah had to lean against the bathroom door to be able to muster up the courage that he required at this moment.

“I just–” he began, looking down at his feet with one hand against the door and the other on his hip. “I just wanted you to know that…” 

“What is it? Is Max here already?” You questioned and he stopped in his tracks when he heard the excitement in your voice. 

He could never bring himself to admit it but some wicked, evil part of him wanted your date to go horribly. A small part of him even considered telling you to show him more options for your outfit tonight because he had simply changed his mind about the red, fully knowing that doing this would make you very late to the movie you’re supposed to leave for in a few minutes. 

But he also knew, somewhere deep down, that those small, wicked parts of him could easily be triumphed by the larger part of him that just wanted you to be happy. And if someone else could do that for you, then he would let them. Every single time. 

“No,” he shook his head and exhaled deeply. “No, I just hope you have fun tonight.” 

You opened your door finally and stepped out with a small smile, wearing the red top that he insisted upon. “Thanks, Jere.”

“See?” he teased with a small smirk, “I told you red’s the move.” He winked playfully as he brought a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes and walked once again to your mirror, trying to fix hair that already looked perfect. “What would I do without your brilliant fashion advice?” Maybe it had simply been the frequency of his compliments or the flirty glint in his eye every time he said them, but you had long learned not to take any of what Jeremiah said to heart. He would compliment anything that breathed with the same sincerity.

Jeremiah watched you walk out that evening with a bitter taste in his mouth because you did look gorgeous in red. You looked drop-dead stunning. 

And try as he might to tell you of that fact, you wouldn’t really believe it when it came from him. You’d only believe it when it came from someone else. 

—

“I am not drunk!” You yelled with finality in your tone and a stance that conveyed utmost defiance. 

Well, as defiant as you could possibly look when you were clearly swaying a little with a bottle in hand and slurring your words. You could barely keep your eyes open. 

“Okay,” Conrad decided to humour you as he snatched your bottle out of your hands and replaced it with a cup of water. “Drink this anyway.” 

“You’re no fun,” You tell Conrad with a pout and he rolls his eyes at you before continuing his deperate search for Jeremiah. All he found were more drunk teenagers, flashing lights and blaring speakers. “Party-pooper.” You accuse.

Conrad wasn’t sure when he had been put on babysitting duty but when he had seen you, drunk out of your mind, climb onto a table and start belting out Beyonce, he knew his help was needed. And though you normally got along with Conrad just fine, with him being just like a big brother to you, he knew that he needed to find Jeremiah to take you home. He was the designated driver, after all. 

“Do you know where Jere is?” 

“Debbie-downer.” You spat out to Conrad, who couldn’t care less about your conniving insults. 

“Seriously, have you seen Jere?” He questioned again and pushed you to take a sip of your water.

“Conrad the killjoy,” you laughed at your own joke a little and Conrad sighed heavily, desperate for someone to take you off his hands. 

“Killjoy is spelt with a K, you know.”

“Yeah, well, then so is Konrad.” 

Jeremiah, who had been upstairs, knew at once something was wrong when he glanced at his phone and saw 6 missed calls from Conrad and a frantic text from Belly. As he made his way downstairs, he could see you standing with a pout on your face and your arms crossed like a child, with a very exasperated Conrad standing next to you. Jeremiah smiled a little at the sight of your ruffled hair and his brother’s tired look. 

“What’s going on here?” He asked finally after reaching the bottom of the stairs and looping one of your arms around his neck to support you to keep you standing upright. 

“Finally,” Conrad mumbled under his breath. “You should take her home. Be careful, though,” Conrad cast you a sarcastic look. “She might start spelling your name with a G.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and Conrad continued, “I’ll take a cab with Steven and Belly.”  

“No, I’ll take a cab,” You interject pointedly, “You should really drive him home, Jere.” 

“Alright, alright,” Jeremiah consoled and held back a snort at Conrad’s unamused expression, “I’ll drive you home first, okay? You’re my favourite out of the two of you, after all.”

As soon as you two stepped out of the house, the cold night air whipped your face and blew your hair back and you found yourself enjoying every second of it. You kept an arm looped around Jeremiah and raised the other one to cheer loudly. You felt warm and bubbly from the inside and your head was spinning in the best way possible. You never wanted this night to end. 

“Shhh,” Jeremiah shushed you in between chuckles. “You’re going to wake the entire neighbourhood up.” 

“Yeah, so?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “They should not be sleeping right now. There’s a party going on!”

Jeremiah looked at you with incredulous eyes and an amused expression on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time you had gotten this drunk. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten that drunk and he had some really wild stories up his sleeve. He smiled to himself as he looked down at the ground. You looked cute when you were so drunk that you had no filter. It was a nice change.

“Alright, come on,” he ushered you into the car when you finally reached it. “All arms and legs inside the vehicle, please.”

“Okay, but I’m not wearing a seatbelt,” you protested as you settled into the passenger seat. Your body relaxed instantly upon making contact with the comfortable seats of the Jeep and you struggled to keep your eyes open as sleep threatened to overcome your senses completely. 

“Yes, you are,” Jeremiah countered instantly and grabbed the seat belt buckle. He leaned across your sprawled body in the passenger seat to fasten it and you suddenly could not ignore the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your neck and even in your drunk state, your cheeks burned at the proximity. He fastened the seatbelt with a click and straightened back out with an amused smile once again. “I see what you did there.” He smirked before shutting your car door.

You waited for him to get into the driver’s seat before pressing urgently with a furrow in your eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“You really couldn’t have put it on by yourself?” He teased with his hands set on the steering wheel. 

“Ugh, gross,” you groaned as you realized that you felt all warm and bubbly inside for an entirely different reason now. “I did not do that so you could do that.”

Jeremiah responded with a chuckle and a small ‘sure’, which made you eager to defend your side of the story even more.

“I’m not lying.”

“Admit it, I’m irresistible.” He mocked with an exaggerated hair flip.

“Seriously,” you clarified as you sat up. “Maybe I just wanted to smell your hair.”

Jeremiah’s howls of laughter at this innocent yet glaringly honest confession confused you to no end, as you squinted at him. You were still unsure of what was so funny about that fact. His hair did smell nice.

“Drunk you is really bad at flirting,” Jeremiah said with a playful lilt in his tone, which perfectly masked his true feelings at the moment. He wished, more than anything, that you would flirt with him for real. But he also knew that you didn’t see him that way, and maybe you never really would. It was cathartic in a way to tease you so relentlessly. It almost made it feel real to him. 

“I’m not flirting,” you claimed once again. “And, you really shouldn’t be flirting with me either, you know.” You said offhandedly, not thinking much about what you were saying. 

Jeremiah’s smile instantly dropped at your remark. “What do you mean?” he mustered up, already feeling horribly guilty. He braced himself for what he knew was to come – he was sure that you were about to tell him that your boyfriend had brought it up with you. Max probably felt threatened and –

“Gigi,” you said softly. “I saw you two go up into that room.” And it was true. You had seen them together and your heart had dropped. Despite the fact that you had your actual boyfriend beside you for most of the night, you couldn't help but feel betrayed at the sight of Jeremiah with someone else. You quickly pushed the feeling out of your head and grabbed the nearest drink, finding the only solace from your broken heart in your drunk state.

Jeremiah’s head was suddenly spinning as he clutched the steering wheel tighter and tried to take a quick look at you before setting his eyes back on the road. He tried to dismiss the thoughts in his brain that were ecstatic at the faint jealous tone in your sentence. 

“No, no,” he shook his head. Jeremiah desperately tried to find the words to tell you that Gigi and him had only talked – how he had made it clear that he wasn’t looking for anything romantic with her.  “Gigi and I–”

“It’s fine, Jere, really,” you affirmed as you tried to shoot him a small smile. “You don’t have to lie to me. I just… We’re both with different people now and you’re my best friend so maybe you and I should just… dial it back a little, I don’t know.” 

Just as quickly as those ecstatic thoughts had rushed into his head, they now fled. It became clear to him now that this was about Max. You were not jealous. You probably didn’t care about him and Gigi at all. He tried to regain his composure as he cracked a small smile. 

“Yeah,“ he agreed quietly. “Your boyfriend probably thinks I’m in love with you or something.” He tried to joke but the attempt was weak at best. 

“Yeah,” you half-smiled in agreement. “Gigi probably thinks I’m in love with you.” You spared a glance at him for a moment too long, causing him to look back. You cleared your throat hurriedly, “Or something.” 

Jeremiah focused on the road that stretched out in front of him as he willed himself not to look back at you. It would’ve been easy to rip off the band-aid then, to just blurt out his true feelings and leave you to deal with the aftermath. He knew it would’ve been easy but he also knew that it would’ve been incredibly selfish. 

With a lapse in self-control, he risked a glance at you and found you sound asleep, with your eyes shut in what he could only imagine as blissful slumber. He smiled as he turned his eyes back on the road. He was glad that at least one of you two would be sleeping so soundly tonight.

—

The breakup had been surprisingly easy. The aftermath, however, had been the exact opposite. 

When Max had dumped you two days before the deb ball, you hadn’t thought much of it. Your relationship was barely three weeks old and you were really only waiting for the shoe to drop. When it finally did, you felt almost relieved. You were practically yawning through Max’s “it’s not you, it’s me” routine. 

That feeling of freedom and relief were quickly snatched from you when you realized just how bad Max’s timing was. With the deb ball two days away, you were left with no date and absolutely no prospects. Conrad was going with Belly already, Steven with Shayla and you didn’t need to ask Jere to know what he would say to being your escort. That guy had sworn off balls years ago. 

“Maybe you could just, like, be a group of three with us,” suggested Belly with a hopeful smile plastered on her face. “Conrad wouldn’t mind… I don’t think.” 

You gave her an unamused look as you buried your head in your pillows. “Do we know the same Conrad?” 

“Fine, then what do you suggest?” Belly questioned as she flopped onto your bed as well. “You’re really going to go alone?” 

“What choice do I have?” 

“You could ask J–.”

“Absolutely not,” you countered right away. There was no way you were going to ask him, especially considering how you knew his answer already. No matter the reasons behind it, a rejection from him would still hurt.

“Why not?” Belly whined. “He’s perfect for you. I’m sure he can make an exception to his rule if you were to ask.” 

You raised your head to squint at Belly. “Why would he make an exception for me?”

“You know why.”

“No, I do not.” You tried to ignore the burning in your cheeks once again.

“You’re so childish, [Y/N],” Belly sighed. “That guy’s been in love with you since you two were like toddlers.”

“That is simply not true,” you muttered, wishing that Belly would drop the subject altogether. “Next!” You announced only to be met with a groan from Belly.

After countless suggestions and exhausted minds, Belly suggested that you take the easy way out of this mess. 

“Just call Max,” she whined, running a tired hand over her face. “Tell him he still has to take you to the ball and then you two can go your separate ways or whatever.”

 And so, you had. You had called Max at the opportune hour of 2 AM and he had agreed before making sure that ‘there was absolutely no romantic subtext attached to this, right?’ You had scoffed at what he was trying to imply. As if. 

It was that eventful night’s ingenious brainstorming which had landed you in this mess today. 

The ball was about to start in five minutes and all you could do was stare at the curt text that Max had sent you a minute ago. You read over it again and again in feeble hopes that that would make it seem more insignificant – like if you read it enough times, it would somehow be less humiliating. 

But the truth of the matter was that Max had bailed on you at the very last minute – literally –  and your name was about to be announced, summoning you and your escort to the stage. You looked around desperately, in hopes that perhaps you could send someone else ahead of you or if worst comes to worst, slip out of the back door yourself but none of those options seemed particularly feasible. As you looked at the other side of the stage, where Max was supposed to be standing, you saw nothing but darkness. 

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N],” the announcer called with his booming voice. “Daughter of…” It had suddenly become hard to breathe in your flowing dress and you were sure that your makeup had practically melted off your face by now. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. It’s fine, you told yourself, repeating it like a chant. I’m fine.

You took small steps forward, trying desperately to sync them with your breathing to avoid any disasters until you were standing on stage with a bouquet in your hand and no date by your side. You forced a smile on your face but it evidently did not look as convincing as you wanted it to as a few murmurs broke out amongst the crowd. You scanned the crowd until your eyes landed on your table, with a concerned looking Susannah and a horrified looking Laurel. Your own mother’s expression was a mixture of both.

“[Y/N] attends…” even the announcer trailed off as he peered behind the stage to check where your escort had gone. 

“Sorry!” Jeremiah appeared suddenly at your side, announcing his apology to the whole crowd. “I had to use the bathroom. Had too much to drink.” He smiled apologetically to the announcer before turning to you to send you a wink. He flashed one of his dashing smiles and offered you his arm before turning back to the crowd to pose for photos. You blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“What are you doing?” you whispered to him as quietly as you could manage. You were well acquainted with Jere’s ‘no balls’ policy. Clearly, everyone else was too, as the murmurs in the crowd did not die down as he appeared by your side on the stage. They only seemed to grow, with some surprised and others outraged.

“Being your knight in shining armour, what do you think I’m doing?” he whispered back with a smug smile. He was seriously considering sending Max a gift hamper for letting him have this opportunity. 

“Jere,” you began again. “You really don’t have to. Seriously, I’m fi–” 

“Shhh,” he cut you off, gently tapping your arm. “Face the front and let everyone see how jaw-droppingly beautiful you look in white.”

“I thought red was ‘the move’ on me?” You retorted with a small smile. This guy really was an angel sent from above.

“You could wear anything and it would be ‘the move’,” he told you matter-of-factly with a small smirk as he kept facing the cameras. “Although…”

“What?”

“I’m sure you could wear nothing and it would still be ‘the move’.”

“Shut up!” You reprimanded with a shocked laugh. You were used to his flirting but he had never been quite as forward before. Jeremiah stifled a few chuckles as cameras kept flashing. Finally, the announcer gestured for you two to walk forward to stand on the dance floor as the last few debutantes got their time on the stage. 

You took your place standing beside Belly and Conrad and couldn’t help but shake your head as Belly turned to smile at you. Her grin was so big you feared it would split her face in half. 

“Told you he’d make an exception,” she mouthed slowly, making sure that you understood each word she’s intending for you. Conrad smirked silently, watching the two of you standing together. Even Steven waved to grab your attention to wriggle his eyebrows at you suggestively. You rolled your eyes at them all.

“What’s Belly saying?” Jeremiah peered from behind you at the smiling girl.

“Nothing,” you cleared your throat. “She’s just surprised you’re doing this. With your infamous ‘no balls’ policy and all.” 

Jeremiah let out a small ‘ah’ as he nodded in understanding with a small smile on his face. 

“So,” you pressed on with raised eyebrows. “Why are you doing this?” You bid your time with bated breaths as you waited for his answer to come. You really hoped it was the answer you wanted to hear.

“Because I look ridiculously handsome in a tux,” he joked half-heartedly. A storm was raging within him and he had no idea what answer to give you. 

“No other reason?” you questioned hesitantly.

Jeremiah knew that this was as good of a time as any. He could finally just tell you. He could rip the band-aid off and never look back again. Max was out of the picture now, clearly, as he abandoned you tonight. Gigi had never been in the picture at all. He had no reasons to keep the truth from you anymore. He had always stopped himself in the past with your happiness in mind. But now, standing beside you and remembering the elated smile that you had given him when he ran onto the stage to be beside you, he was sure that he could make you happy.

He knew he would choose your happiness every single time. Only this time, he’s choosing his own too. 

“And, because,” he started with a shaky breath that seemed too uncharacteristic of him. His teasing demeanour had dropped altogether. “I just… Shit. I want you to know that–” 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer boomed, causing everyone to turn back to look at him. 

You kept your eyes on Jere as you pressed on. “Know what?” 

“I…” 

“Can all escorts make their way to the dance floor, please?”

Jeremiah sighed heavily as he realized he had run out of time. “I’ll tell you later, okay?” He squeezed your hand and pressed a dramatic kiss to it. “For now, prepare to be amazed by my dancing skills.” 

Except, there was no ‘later’ that night. Jeremiah had no idea how quickly the night would turn sour for him, all because of a simple email that he wasn’t meant to see. 

—

Jeremiah loved the beach. He wasn’t sure when the obsession with the feel of the sand running through his fingers or the sound of the tumultuous waves had started but his favourite memories of his childhood always included beaches. 

They also always included his mom. 

In his mind’s eye, he could see countless times when Susannah had been lounging on a chair with a large sun hat draping her eyes and the sun beating down on her while he and Conrad surfed in the water. He remembered how Susannah used to seat him on her lap, while Conrad ran around chasing seagulls, claiming he was ‘far too old to sit on laps’. 

“Your eyes remind me of the ocean, Jere,” Susannah would tell him as she held the little boy in her arms. “They’re so blue. So pretty.” He would smile at her mother’s affection and bat his eyes at her dramatically, which always made her erupt into giggles. 

He couldn’t remember when these frequent trips to the beach with his mom had become so rare. As he sat on the sand now, looking out into the ocean, he couldn’t help but smile sadly. He had no idea if he could have another beach trip with her. He had no idea how much time he would be able to have with her at all.

The sky was painted a somber gray as a storm threatened to rage in the distance. He could feel a few drops on his skin as he took the ocean in. Early mornings at the beach always held a different type of allure for him.

“Hey,” you tapped his shoulder gently, careful not to startle him. 

He turned around at once, with a smile on his face. Your heart broke a little at the sight. Jeremiah had always presented himself as an easy-going guy. He was cheerful at all times, always concerned with bringing a genuine smile to others’ faces before worrying about the genuinity of his own emotions.

“Hey,” he smiled but his eyes didn’t exactly translate. They didn't gleam like they usually did.

“How are you?” you asked hesitantly as you took a seat beside him, nudging his shoulder lightly. “How are you, really?” 

“Fine, I guess,” he said with a gulp and a bitter smile. Both of you sat in silence for a while as the only sounds heard were the waves in the distance. 

“She loves you a lot, you know,” Jeremiah broke the silence, turning to look at you. He held your eyes as he continued. “She never stops talking about you." He shook his head fondly. "Especially when I’m there.”

You give him a small smile before furrowing your eyebrows playfully. “Why ‘especially when you’re there’?” 

“She always wanted us to be together,” Jere said without thinking about it too much. He didn’t risk a glance at you as he continued as honestly as he possibly could. “I think she’s been planning our wedding ever since I gave you that rose to put in your hair when we were, like, ten years old.” He laughed softly at the thought. 

“Really?” You asked incredulously as heat started creeping up your neck. Jeremiah couldn’t help but smirk at you as he could see how flustered you grew with every second.

And that gave him the strength to finally rip the band-aid off. 

“Yeah,” he nodded once as he turned away to look at the water again. “I’ve been planning our wedding for much longer, though.” 

You smiled at his flirting as you shook your head but when you looked at his face, your smile dropped completely. He held your eyes and your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed how devoid of playfulness they were. You gulped as you opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t find anything. You were, quite literally, speechless.

“I think I knew it at six years old,” Jeremiah continued quietly as he kept his eyes on you. It was too late to turn back. No matter the outcome, he had to rip it off. “It was pretty silly then. I was already convinced I was your boyfriend.” He smiled at the memory. “And then at twelve, when we were watching the Notebook with Mom and Laurel and your mom, I remember peeking over at you and just knowing. I knew that you were my Allie. If I had to write letters to some girl for 365 days in a row, it would be you. Every single time. If I had to hang off a ferris wheel to get your attention, I would do that, too. And I hate ferris wheels.” He deadpanned in hopes of earning a laugh from you but you sat there, dumbfounded.

“Wh–?” You tried to get out but Jeremiah stopped you. He needed to get all of this out. He took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before running his thumb across it.

“I knew that I was a total goner, though, when other guys started getting your attention and I still didn’t say anything,” he continued honestly. “I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted you so, so bad but most of all, I just wanted you to be happy. And if Max made you happy or that creepy guy from the gas station that you dated for like four hours made you happy, then I would let them. I still just want you to be happy. And I get it if you don’t like me in that way–” he tried to clarify before you cut him off.

“You make me happy, Jere,” you managed to get out with utmost sincerity. It felt as if your heart was about to burst. “You’ve always made me the happiest. Not Max and definitely not the creepy gas station guy.” 

“Yeah?” He asked as his heart skipped a beat. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a nod as your cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. Jeremiah’s eyes scanned your face then, just as he had always scanned your face – with love, with patience. This time, though, he was pleased to see you scan his face the same way. And none of you were trying to hide it anymore. The band-aid had finally come off. 

“Do I have permission to kiss the bride, then?” he asked quietly as his eyes landed on your lips, both of you leaning towards each other. 

“Depends,” you smirked. “I need to see the wedding plans first. I don’t trust any plans that you’ve made.” Jeremiah chuckled and his breath fanned across your face. “Especially if they were made by six-year-old you.” 

“You sure?” he teased. “A LEGO wedding sounds pretty nice. Six-year-old me had some great ideas.” 

“Shut up,” you laughed against his lips before finally leaning over to close the space.

It was hard to think as your lips met his pillow-soft ones. He kissed you senseless as he brought a soft hand to your jaw to pull you impossibly closer. He tasted so incredibly sweet and he smelled of the ocean and mint and something so indescribably Jere – so familiar yet so exhilarating. Your hands found the hair at the nape of his neck and you tugged them absentmindedly, making Jeremiah smirk into the kiss. It would be an understatement to say this was better than he could ever imagine in his dreams. It was like a shot of adrenaline for him to be so close to you, and he found himself wondering how he survived his whole life without it before. 

You pulled away when you felt the first drop of rain land on your face and he looked up as he smiled. Of course it had started to rain. How very the Notebook of the universe. He looked back down to you and smirked as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“By the way,” you smiled at him. “I knew you were my Noah, too. If there was one guy I had to keep coming back to, no matter what, it would be you. Always.” 

He exhaled with relief and happiness and excitement and – quite possibly every emotion he could feel at that moment. “It’s only fitting for us to recreate the rain scene, then,” he flashed a smile as he tried to calm his thumping heart, adding a wink for good measure. 

You told him to shut up for the second time that day and he dutifully obeyed. He wasn’t that interested in talking, anyway. 

And, Jeremiah knew the next few months were going to be difficult. But for a moment, here with you, everything seemed alright. And he knew that it eventually would be, as long as he has you by his side.

[glasvera]

Dungeons & DANG, Girl!

Eddie Munson x Fem!Goth!Reader

Description: You're visiting home from college and are having your best friend, Eddie, run a one-shot using a rather depraved and erotic adventure you came across. You roleplay one too many of your actions and it is having Effects™ on him.

Warnings: Smut (18+, Minors DNI), unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), swearing, no spoilers besides characters existing

A/N: Despite writing this as a reader insert I'll admit I very much had my own Stranger Things OC in mind while writing this. I hope she's still relatable enough and you still enjoy this!

Word Count: 5k

It all started as a joke. Seriously. You were coming back to Hawkins to visit the friends that hadn’t escaped it yet, and thought it would be hilarious to show the guys this D&D module someone had written in your group at college. It was something straight out of a prepubescent boy’s wet dream, so you were certain they’d get a kick out of it and you could collectively laugh at the utterly depraved horniness of it all. You’d sent a letter to Eddie Munson with a copy, and he’d already agreed to run it for you all as a one shot before you’d even left. Some people might shy away from such a thing, but you’d been one of the guys from the start and took part in all their weird conversations and rack oglings. Add a couple of beers and weed to the mix, and you were sure it was gonna be a good night.

You took your seat on the airplane, butterflies in your stomach with the anticipation of seeing them all again. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit your particular excitement of seeing Munson again. Before graduating, you guys were inseparable and were known for getting into all sorts of trouble. You couldn’t get enough of him and his Hellfire club, but things were strictly platonic. I mean, getting involved with your best friend would just be weird, right? Not to mention the potential of absolutely ruining the perfect dynamic you had, the freak and the witch of Hawkins High. An essential part of the school’s ecosystem, truly.

That didn’t stop you from putting on your best fishnet tights, your old Hellfire shirt tucked into a black mini skirt, and the black leather jacket you’d studded and spiked out by hand. Your style had changed quite a bit since going to college and leaving the stifling confines of your parents’ house, and you fully intended to show it off upon your return.

Eddie had agreed to pick you up at the airport and basically be your chauffeur for the week. He stood there, tapping his foot impatiently and crossing his arms as he bit his knuckle. You guys had kept in touch through letters and the like, but it had been a year since he’d last seen you. His eyes scan back and forth across the arrivals area as soon as he knew your plane was landing. He was expecting to find you in your usual jeans and jacket and was keeping an eye out for that particular ensemble, so when you came down the stairs wearing black on black with more makeup than he’d ever seen you in within the past 6 years of knowing you, it’s no surprise he had to do a double-take.

“Eddie!” you exclaim gleefully as you pick up your pace.

“Y/N? Holy shit!!” he laughs as he looks you up and down before pulling you into a hug. “I knew good ol’ mom and dad kept you from dressing up much, but I never imagined you were hiding the daughter of Satan in there.”

You punch his arm playfully and he pretends to fall back, injured as you giggle. “Don’t worry, it’s still me under all this leather and lace.”

His gaze lingers for a moment on your choice of shirt and he smiles at you. “Alright, come on, Y/N. Hawkins welcomes the return of its witch queen,” he quips dramatically with a broad sweep of his hands and a wink. “And your chariot awaits!”

--

Your friends were all pretty surprised by your new look, but none of them stared at you quite like Eddie did over the course of the day. Unbeknownst to you, he was taking full advantage of letting you walk in front of him as you stopped by all of your old haunting grounds. The way your skirt would ride up a bit as you strolled along was doing things to him that he’d normally rather not think about in regards to his best friend.

But I mean, damn. You were basically the best friend version of his dream girl before, and now? You looked like something straight out of a pin up. It wasn’t that he never found you attractive before, but it felt like he was finally seeing all of you, the real you, that wasn’t hidden behind grade school bullshit and societal expectations.

You’d all returned to his trailer late that night, beers in hand and character sheets laid out as you prepared for your ridiculously raunchy adventure. You were on a quest to retrieve the royal sex toys for a rather depraved black market fence.

“So, Phoebe Phatazz,” Eddie pauses with a snort after emphasizing your character’s name, unable to keep a straight face. “The guards have spotted you stealing the queen’s precious studded dildo. What do you do?”

Tension builds around the table as you scramble to react. “Shit, shit! Well I can’t fight them, my strength sucks-”

“Better hurry, Phoebe…” he teases as he leans towards you dramatically. “They’re getting closer…”

You’re not sure why, but your eyes dart around the room for an idea. Your gaze stops at your beer bottle on the table, contents mostly emptied. “Fuck it.” You grab the bottle, both hands wrapping around the bottom. “I take the dildo in both hands, stare directly at the guards,” you emphasize with a pointed look at Eddie, “and I…” you leave the sentence unfinished as you tilt the bottle back, tongue lapping languidly up the neck and swirling around the mouth as a few drops dribble out onto your chin before you wrap your lips around the bottle fully. You see your dungeon master’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he gulps, eyes locked onto your lips and tongue.

You take the bottle out of your mouth with a pop and place it back down with a solid thud that makes Eddie jump. “While I do that, I’m gonna try to signal to the rest of the party to get the fuck out of there.” The other guys are laughing at the absurdity of it all; this was exactly the sort of thing you had intended to do and laugh at tonight, but Eddie remains still as if he was still processing what you’d just done. “Well, Munson?” you say with a smirk as you rest your chin in your hand, “does it work? Can I roll for it?”

“Oh it looks like it worked alright,” Gareth laughs. Eddie’s head snaps towards him with a squint of his eyes before regaining his composure and looking back at you, inhaling sharply. 

“You’d better make a damn good charisma roll, Y/L/N,” he warns with a raise of his eyebrows and tilt of his head.

You give him a cheeky grin and grab the d20. “Pass me another beer for good luck?” you ask Jeff and he nods, popping the cap off and passing it to you. You take a swig and give Eddie a wink before juggling the die in the palm of your hand and tossing it down onto the table.

“Ooh… a 14? Hmm… not sure if that’s gonna be enough, sweetheart,” he sighs with a shake of his head. The table erupts into a cacophony of groans and calls of “oh come on!!” Eddie chuckles and puts his hands up. “Alright, alright! In the spirit of this ‘adventure’,” he emphasizes with air quotes, “the guards show interest, and the rest of the party will be able to escape,” the guys at the table all sighed in relief, “but that doesn’t stop them from wanting to apprehend a criminal. One of them approaches you, sword in hand, and stares at you lecherously.” Oh boy, you did not have to imagine that part. As much as he tried to hide it, the lust in his eyes was apparent. “‘Halt, sinner and defiler!’ His voice booms and echoes off of the castle hallway’s stone walls. ‘Thou stealeth the majesty’s most valued possession! Thou shalt pay for thy crimes!’” he pauses for a second, looking to you for a response.

Your smile turns impish as you grab your empty prop bottle. You push off of your seat and land on your knees right in front of him as you look up at him through long lashes. “I kneel down in front of my oh-so strong and capable captors,” you coo as you punctuate each syllable with a tilt of your head back and forth, “and I hide the dildo behind my back,” you explain as you hold the bottle at the small of your back, “and ask them, ‘surely there’s another way we can figure this out?’”

Eddie’s eyes go dark at you kneeled in front of him. There was definitely a certain tension building between you that neither of you had expected at the start of the night. He coughs, clearing his throat as he glances across the table at the rest of the group. They’re all giving him knowing looks and chuckling at his disheveled state. “Come on, Munson! What are you going to do with her?” The direct insinuation of the two of you did not go over his head and he glares at Gareth who just throws his head back and starts laughing harder.

His nostrils flare as he directs his attention back to you. “Alright, Phatazz, what’s your plan here?” he gestures to the bottle she’s holding, “What are you trying to do with that?”

“Would a rather loud, messy face-fuck make enough noise for me to roll the dildo back to the rest of the party?” you ask him, rather nonchalantly, much to the amusement and boisterous laughter of everyone at the table. Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out another exasperated sigh both out of the absurdity of your request as well as the effect your rather vulgar language was having on him. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, giving you a “really?” look as he snickers at you. You return his look with a sideways cock of your head and the most innocent smile you could muster.

“Just roll dexterity, you fucking degenerate,” he finally says as the laughter continues.

You pop back up on your feet in an instant and grab the d20 again, planting a kiss on it before shaking it theatrically in your hands like a cheerleader would their pom poms on either side of your head. You’re not sure what’s gotten into you at this point, maybe it’s the beer or the weed helping you let loose, but you make sure to stand right next to Eddie as you bend over to throw it down on the table, jutting your ass out in your tight miniskirt. You can practically feel the way his eyes trace the bend of your back and the curve of your ass, and you’re almost too distracted by whatever the fuck this was to hear the cheers of your friends.

“NATURAL 20!!!!” they all exclaim, throwing their fists in the air and high-fiving each other. Munson snaps out of his daze to look down at the table and, lo and behold, a perfect 2-0 stood proudly upright where you’d tossed it onto the map he’d prepared. He was back in dungeon master mode in an instant as he threaded his fingers through his hair and grabbed the sides of his head, mouth agape as he leaned back on the couch. 

He throws his hands up in mock defeat and shakes his head. “You give the best head you’ve ever given in your life, and the guard is so into it he doesn’t notice the sparkle of the jewels in the moonlight as you roll your ever-so-valuable plunder back towards the rest of the party. I can’t believe that fucking worked,” he laughed.

The rest of the session went smoothly, aside from you remaining “distracted as a distraction” to ensure everyone else’s success, and you were all packing up your binders as you made jokes about what had happened and engaged in more jovial banter. You waved them all goodbye as they headed home, helping Eddie clean up the scattered cans and wrappers around the trailer.

You both were tidying up in relative silence, the tension between you building now that there was nothing and nobody else to distract you. Your hand brushed against his several times as you picked up, and the sparks you felt every time had your cheeks turning warm and pink. You steal glances at him here and there, admiring his arms and the way his fingers moved when he went to pick up a couple miniatures. You want to say you don’t know what’s gotten into you, but when you think of the history you share and now, with both of you being grown up and you recognizing just how damn hot he is…

“Y/L/N? Earth to Y/L/N?” He waves his hand in your face to pull you out of the stupor you didn’t realize you’d fallen into. You blink at him as you refocus and shake your head to clear your thoughts. “I said, I think we got everything. Thanks for the help,” he says as he plops back down on the couch and sinks into the cushions, throwing his hands behind his head. “You were right; that was a lot of really dumb, horny fun,” he admitted with a wide grin. He pats the spot next to him and you sit down, folding your knees up and leaning close to him. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, he pulls you towards him as you rest your head against his chest. This is far from the first time you two had cuddled like this, but there was an uncertain stiffness to it this time.

A quiet moment passes before Eddie clears his throat. “I, uh, I missed you, Y/L/N. It’s good to see you again,” he admits, his thumb brushing your shoulder affectionately.

“You too, Munson. I can’t stand this place, but nowhere feels right without you.” You freeze as you realize how he might take that. “That is- I mean, you and I… we uh,” you scramble to regain your composure as your face lights up crimson and you silently plead with the earth to open up and swallow you right then and there. You pull away from him and shut your eyes as he leans back and studies your face, a coy smile returning to his features. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face and cups your cheek in his hand, his many rings providing a cold, stark contrast to your red complexion. You open your eyes to see his face very close to yours, gaze fixed on your lips before tracing them with his thumb. You shivered slightly and sighed.

“I know you did all that teasing on purpose, Y/N…” he chides you with a deep chuckle. “And if we’re gonna be candid here, I’ve had a very hard time keeping my eyes off of you since you landed at the airport.” He reaches his other hand up, carding his fingers through your hair as he inches closer to you.

You bit your bottom lip and decided to shoot your shot. “Well, Eds,” you began, placing a hand on his thigh and spreading your fingers across the rough, black denim. He raises an eyebrow and looks at your hand before turning his head back to you. “In the spirit of this ‘adventure’, I think it’s only fair that we roleplay what happens to Phoebe. I think she deserves her happy ending, you know?” Eddie’s throat suddenly felt very dry as his deep brown eyes bored into your own. You throw your leg across his lap, straddling him as you place your hands on his chest. His hands fly to your hips, gripping them possessively as he inhales deeply.

“Are we really doing this?” he asks you as he toys with the hem of your skirt and traces your fishnets.

You laugh as you look down at him, stroking his face gently with the back of your hand. He turns his head briefly to kiss it, and your gaze softens. “I’m thinking we should have done this a lot sooner,” you admit.

The way his face lights up is a mental image you’ll treasure for a long time, and as you lean down to kiss him, you can’t help but sigh contentedly as he grabs the back of your head and devours your lips with his own like a man starved. You brace yourself on his chest with one hand and run the other through his glorious brown curls as you grind yourself down against him, earning a rumble from deep in his chest. His tongue swipes across your lips and you part them, tasting the cheap beer and weed and him as you tilt your head and deepen the kiss. He grabs your ass, earning a squeak from you that he can’t help but smile at as he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, simply reveling in the feeling of you pressing down against him through the thin fabric of your panties. Your miniskirt was doing nothing to cover you as it had stretched up and around your waist when you straddled him, so he took full advantage to grope at the plush of your thighs and ass through your tights. You shuck your jacket off, letting it fall to the floor before Eddie untucked your shirt and helped you lift it over and off your head. He stops and stares at you, temporarily speechless.

“Fuck me, Y/N. You sure you’re not actually a witch? You’ve got me under some sort of spell alright,” he breathes, admiring you with a voice barely above a whisper. 

You giggle as his fingers ghost up your ribs before his hands come up to cup your breasts through your bra, sighing as he molds them like putty in his hands while kissing down from your neck to your chest. He places sloppy kisses along the edge of your bra, tracing his tongue just underneath the fabric and earning him a gasp from your pouty lips. “I-I thought we were supposed to be finishing Phoebe’s story here,” you teased halfheartedly.

“Mmm…” He shoves his face in the valley of your breasts while reaching around to undo the clasp of your bra. “I think I’m much more interested in Y/N’s story tonight.” With the soft whisper of fabric hitting the floor, his hands return to the newly exposed skin of your tits while claiming your lips with his. He rolls your nipples between his dexterous fingers as you moan into his mouth. Your hands travel along his arms and grip them tightly, relishing in the feeling of his biceps flexing beneath his shirt as he works his magic on you. But he was far too dressed for your liking.

“Shirt… hah… off… now…” you struggle to get out the words between kisses before he nods and leans back enough to let you pull his shirt off, only breaking the kiss to fully remove it and toss it on the couch. Your hands wasted no time exploring, running your nails down his chest and tracing his tattoos as he growled.

“As much as I’d love to take you right here, right now, perhaps a bed would be more befitting of my witch queen?” he chuckles.

You nod with a smile, absolutely love-drunk, “Bed sounds good.” As you stood up, taking his hands in your own, you couldn’t help but quip, “we can always do it again on the couch later.”

“You absolute minx,” he laughs as he kisses you again and again, slowly leading you back to his bedroom between makeout sessions. As soon as you get past the door he kicks it shut and flips you around, pressing you against it as he holds your wrists above your head in one hand and hikes one of your legs up with the other. He shoves his thigh between your legs and you moan, trying desperately to grind yourself down against it as he presses his body against you and attacks your neck, sucking and biting on a spot beneath your ear that makes you keen and your knees buckle. “So needy…” he teases and you can feel his damnable smirk against your skin.

“Eddie, please…” you whine, struggling against his hold in search of more friction.

He releases your wrists and you wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts both of your legs around him and carries you to the bed. He cradles your head as he lowers you down onto the mattress, his eyes staring into yours with such longing it makes your heart swell. He hovers over you for a moment like that, brushing your cheek with the pad of his thumb with the softest smile on his face you’ve ever seen. He laughs suddenly and it startles you.

“Sorry, sorry. I… I was just thinking about how stupid we both are,” he said with a shake of his head.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Speak for yourself, Munson. I’m in college,” you tease, and he scoffs at you and puts his hand on his chest as if you’d physically wounded him.

“Low blow, L/N!” he retorts and you laugh. “But seriously. This,” he gestures between the two of you, “has always been there, hasn’t it?” he asks, searching your face for the answer before you even speak up.

You blush at him and turn your head to the side, covering your face with your hands. “I was always afraid to ruin our friendship. You were,” you stop and correct yourself, “you are the most important person in my life. If I confessed to you and you didn’t feel the same way…” you trail off before Eddie pulls your hands away and grabs your chin, bringing you to face him.

“Do you have any idea how many times I tried to flirt with you? How many times I toyed with the idea of asking you out?” he asks you in an exasperated tone. 

You giggle up at him while he stares down with the biggest smile. “Oh my god, we are stupid.”

“Right?” he laughs as he rests on his elbows and holds your face between his hands. “I could have had you like this, this whole time. Loved you the way you deserved,” he finished, a tinge of pink now darkening his own features.

You reach up, brushing your fingers through his hair. “No time like the present?”

“Yeah, I think we can work with that,” he replies, leaning down to kiss you again.

You surprise him when you flip him over, reversing your positions so you straddled him once more. After looking up at you dressed in nothing but a skirt and fishnets, however, he accepts his fate and simply places his hands behind his head. You bend over, kissing his chest and traveling slowly lower while your fingers toy with his belt. You pause in your ministrations to look up into his hooded eyes. “For the record, I love you too, freak,” you smile with a wink.

He snarls playfully at you, “Oh, I’ll show you freak, my little witch.” Any further retort dies in his throat as you peel his tight jeans and underwear down, freeing his cock as you immediately run your tongue up and down the shaft. Repeating the motions you’d performed on the bottle earlier that night, you swirl your tongue around his sensitive tip while stroking your hands up and down. His eyes roll back into his head. “Fuck yes… I was right. Only the daughter of Satan could give head like this.” You swat at his thigh and he chuckles at his own joke before you take more of him in your mouth. He moans low and pushes your hair out of your face to better watch you work. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck him in deeper, whimpering at the feeling of his hand in your hair. He feels himself getting close far too quickly and sits up, pulling you off with a wet pop before bringing you back up to his face to crash his lips into yours. “Stand up for me, doll.”

You slide off the edge of the bed, confused but curious, before Eddie yanks your skirt, tights, and panties down and kneels in front of you in one fluid motion. Your clothing pooled at your ankles, you gasp as he dives between your legs and licks his tongue in a fat stripe up the length of your cunt. Your hands fly to his head as your legs tremble and he laps at your folds. He flicks at your clit and you moan the cutest moan he thinks he’s ever heard, and he can’t help the grin on his face. One of the hands that was gripping your hips snakes around before he parts your folds and inserts a finger into your now dripping pussy, focusing his tongue on making small circles around your clit as your mouth falls open into a permanent “o”. He curls his finger and you see stars, and you’re pretty sure you would have fallen over if not for him supporting you.

“Eddie! Fuck yes, right there!” you encourage him as you feel a knot building at the pit of your stomach. He adds a second finger and picks up his pace, and the moans are spilling out of your mouth as you shout his praise.

“Go on, cum for me,” he groans into your folds and the order as well as the vibrations send you over the edge, vocally alerting the entire trailer park to your activities. Eddie sits back and admires his handiwork, slowly pumping his fingers as you come down from your high. He pulls them out as he proceeds to clean them off with his tongue, holding eye contact with you the whole time. You didn’t think he could get any hotter, but you were practically dripping again already.

“I need you inside me, right now,” you demand as you flop onto the bed and pull him on top of you.

“As my witch queen commands!” he teases as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slowly sinks his length into you, watching your expression as you stretch to accommodate him. “Fuck me, you’re beautiful,” he whispers in awe as your eyes meet his. You wrap your legs around him and pull him the rest of the way in and he shudders, relishing in the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him. He slowly pumps into you, bending over to kiss whatever exposed skin he can reach. Your back arches up at a particularly deep thrust and he captures one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and nipping at it as you cursed and held his head in place. His thrusts quicken and he leans back, lifting your hips slightly. At this new angle you become a writhing mess, the sounds coming from your mouth reduced to nothing but expletives and his name. The bed creaks beneath the strain of your activities as your moans get louder and louder, drawing closer to your second orgasm. Feeling the flutter of your walls clamping around his cock, Eddie splays his palm across your stomach as he uses his thumb to circle your clit. You cry out, nails digging into the muscle of his arms. “You feel so good, baby. You’re doing so well for me.”

You keen at his praise and reach your arms up to his neck, pulling him down to kiss him feverishly as he growls into your mouth and moans low and deep. Your hands hold his head in place as he shoves his tongue into your mouth and pistons in and out of you even faster, his breath faltering as he chases his release. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, continuing to thumb your clit as you practically scream into the kiss, tossing your head back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You feel your second orgasm quickly approaching as he attacks your neck, marking it for all the world to see. His breath, hot on your neck, does you in as he whispers sweet nothings and encouragement into your ear, and you cry out his name as his thrusts grow even more erratic before he spills into you, panting and groaning out your name. He stills, realizing what he’s just done, and you chuckle. “Don’t worry about it, I’m on the pill.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and looks down at you, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead and abs. “Fuck, Y/N,” he laughs, “I hope you know we’re doing this again and again before you go back home.” He peppers kisses all over your face and you giggle as he pulls away and smiles softly.

“I’ll hold you to that, Munson,” you punctuate with a tap of your finger on the tip of his nose. He scrunches it up and gives you a toothy grin before sliding out of you and rolling off to lie next to you, still slightly out of breath. You lace your fingers through his and turn to face him, watching the way his chest rises and falls with his breathing before curling up to him, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N,” he proclaims as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer. “Fuck, it feels good to say that,” he sighs as he kisses your forehead.

You can’t help but smile at the emotion behind his voice. “I love you too, Eds.”

[sherifftillman]

The Buffer

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!Reader (no gendered terms/pronouns)

Genre: fluff, tiny little smut mention at the end

Word count: 5k

Summary: Chrissy just wants to play wingwoman. If only the two people in question weren't so clueless.

A/N: Writing Chrissy is so fun. I hope I've done her justice.

Being friends with most of the school newspaper had its perks and its penalties. Pro: you get all the hot gossip before it hits the shelves of the school store. Con: whenever there is a big scoop and they have to work through their lunch break, yours becomes far more lonely. Usually you can find someone to sit with, but today you just so happen to prefer your own company.

Coincidentally, today is the day Chrissy Cunningham decides to sit at your table. "Hi!" she beams, setting her tray down, sitting down and then offering her hand out to you. "You don't mind if I sit here, right?"

Eyes narrowing, you take her hand warily. You've never heard anything bad about her, but you wonder why now, in your senior year, would she finally extend the olive branch? "You already made the trek all the way out here," you muse, and she giggles.

"Yeah, it's not my table but I thought, it's been a minute since we last talked and since your friends aren't here, I figured I could keep you company!" You can't get a read on her. She's the human equivalent of sunshine.

"That's sweet of you," you smile. "Yeah, it's the one downside of being on the outskirts of the school paper team," you shrug, and Chrissy nods in understanding. "Normally I'd find someone else to hang with, but I dunno, something told me to just sit here anyway."

Chrissy's eyes widen. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, if you need some alone time I totally get that, I'm so sorry I assumed -"

"It's fine," you hold your hand out with a reassuring smile. "I'm actually glad you joined me."

She gasps exaggeratedly, pressing her palm to her chest and putting on a voice, "Who, li'l ol' me?!" You laugh, and she joins you. "Well, I would offer for you to sit with more of us, but some of the other girls are…"

"Say no more, I know how a lot of cheerleaders feel about me," you roll your eyes. "Nah, usually I'll go and sit with, like, the theatre kids, or those Hellfire boys, if I need a good book to read, they'll know."

"Oh my god, can I tell you something so bad?" She asks you with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth.

You look from side to side. "Bad, like… Like, scandalous or -?"

"Oh, no! Not at all! This is about me," she giggles. "Did you know that, up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea that Eddie the Fr… The one who plays Dungeons and Dragons," she quickly corrects herself before leaning in to whisper to you, "I had no idea that was Edward Munson from middle school."

"Girl," your eyes widen as you lean back and she holds her cheeks, laughing silently. "You mean to tell me you couldn't tell that Edward the metalhead became Eddie the metalhead?!"

"He had buzzed hair, I don't know!" She presses her fingers to her temples as her face cringes. "When he started talking about his band, it all came flooding back, and I felt so bad!" Her face starts to soften, though. She rests her elbow on the table and sits her chin on the palm of her hand, her fingers curling against her cheekbone. "He's kinda cute now, wouldn't you say?"

Of course she'd say that as you were taking a sip of your drink. Taken aback, your breath catches at just the wrong moment and you start sputtering and coughing. She grimaces, though you can tell she's trying really hard not to laugh. When you finally catch your breath, you say, "Can't say I've noticed any difference." 

That's not technically a lie. You liked Eddie in his buzzed phase. You liked him in his half-grown-out phase. You even liked him in his irons-his-hair-straight phase, though you're grateful that it looks far healthier now that he keeps it curled. And sure, maybe your heart skips a beat or two when he calls you over personally to sit with you, or points to an empty spot next to him (provided one of his "baby sheep" hasn't taken it already). So there's never been a difference to whether or not you'd thought him cute. But if Chrissy Cunningham is into him? Any shot you might have had if you'd had the confidence to do something about it is definitely out of the window.

And so you come to your conclusion. Clearly, Chrissy has seen that you and him are still somewhat friends, and clearly she wants you to play wingman. It'll sting, sure, but it's not like you were planning on making a move anytime soon.

"You don't think he is?" she asks with a slight frown. You're perplexed. Do you chase her off his scent, would that make things too obvious? Or do you encourage it, and risk her questioning your enthusiasm? Either way, the risk is there, and at least now you can live vicariously through her.

You shrug, "I mean, I didn't say that, he's just… I dunno. He's always been Eddie," you allow yourself a small, wistful smile for a few seconds, which is cut short by Chrissy noticing something behind you.

"Oh my god, shh-shh, there he i- Eddie!" The tonal change from being so hushed when she started talking to yelling and waving by the end hurt your ears. 

Tray full of food in hand, he saunters over to you both. "Well, hello to you both," he balances the tray in one hand while doing a funny salute-bow motion with the other. "To what am I owed this pleasure?'

"Well, we were just catching up, since someone was sitting here all alone," Chrissy starts with a pout, and Eddie frowns, turning to you.

"Well, hey, you know there's always room for you with us, right? I know the boys tend to… Get excited and forget other people exist, but you just gotta be just as loud," he explains, his head shaking slightly.

You giggle, "It's been fun, actually, just me and Chrissy here. She's real fun to be with." You didn't realise quite how much saying things like that would sting, but you're here now. Hopefully it'll get easier with time.

"You should come sit with us!" Chrissy pats the table at the spot next to you. You turn your gaze quickly to your own meal, poking at the parts you're yet to eat. You conveniently miss Eddie and Chrissy's silent conversation of eye flashes, tiny gestures and facial expressions.

Eventually Eddie caves and slides into the seat next to you. Chrissy waves her hand towards her, "No, no, come closer! I don't want to have to yell." Even when making her demands, she's adorable. He should be putty in her hands within seconds. Then your work will be done.

Eddie slides his chair over, so his leg barely grazes yours. If you lean even the slightest amount, you can feel the chain on his jeans press into you. "So, what hot topic are we catching up on, then?" he asks.

"I was -" Chrissy collapses into laughter, which makes both you and Eddie smile. There's that sting again. "I was just talking about yo- how I didn't know you were you from middle school!"

"I mean, can you believe." Eddie deadpans, looking at you while gesturing with his open palm to Chrissy.

"Even you said, didn't you!" Chrissy continues, now also talking to you. "You said even you knew he was the same guy from middle school, it was just me!"

You shake your head in disbelief. "I can't believe it's just the hair that fooled you! I remember you in middle school having to move your ponytail so you didn't sit on it! This doesn't even look half as long!" You gesture towards her hair, and she giggles even more.

"Yours doesn't seem to have changed much though," Eddie muses, mouth half-full of food as he points his fork at you. You hate that you don't even find that repulsive.

"Nah, I've pretty much looked the same since the age of six, just stretched out in certain places," you shake your head, to a chorus of laughter from the other two. "Except for the few months I was missing a chunk out of it because I tried to bleach that one part with toilet cleaner." The pair of them hiss through their teeth in sympathy.

"I can do you one better than that," Eddie smirks. "Though it's not my story, guy I met at the Hideout one time. He had tried to bleach his hair at home, was told to wrap it in plastic and heat it up. So he takes a grocery bag -"

Your hands fly up to your face in shock. "Not one that had a logo on it!" Eddie presses his lips together and nods.

Chrissy whines, "Oh, no! So did it transfer onto his -" Eddie interrupts with another nod. "Noooo!"

"I so wish I could have seen it," Eddie laughs. "In Chrissy's defence, though, I didn't think I was all that memorable," he glances over at you.

You shake your head. "I’ll never forget the day you dressed up as a Hobbit for Halloween wearing sneakers with hair taped to them," you laugh, and Chrissy looks at you wide-eyed.

"Sorry, what?! Where was I?!"

Eddie laughs behind his hand. "Oh god, I thought nobody had noticed that! So - I wanted to give the outfit my full devotion, which meant walking around barefooted with extra hair on my fe- You asked!" Eddie exclaims as Chrissy cringes. "But the teacher told me I couldn't not wear shoes, so I had to keep it canon somehow. God, that teacher sucked," he groans under his breath.

"Oh, yes. How terrible it must have been for you to get dress-coded," you deadpan, and Chrissy joins in, once again trying not to laugh.

"You poor thing, Eddie. Having to be told to put shoes on, so oppressive."

"You guys are really coming for my jugular, huh? Last time I join you two." Thankfully, his tone doesn't sound serious.

"Aww, but who else is gonna come bowling with us after school?" Chrissy pouts. You give her a wide-eyed stare and she simply bounces her eyebrows up and down at you in response.

Eddie blows air between his lips in a rasp. "I dunno, you drive a hard bargain..."

"I'll buy you a portion of loaded fries," you offer, clearly understanding your place as the buffer, the third wheel.

Eddie slaps the table, "Now I'm sold!"

He and Chrissy set up a time and a place and you simply nod quietly in agreement. It’s their date, after all. You’re just moral support until it’s your cue to leave them to it.

Once he’s finished with his food, he nods over at his usual table. “S’pose I should go see my herd. I guess I’ll see you later on this evening,” he smiles before leaving you to join his friends.

Chrissy grabs your wrist, looking all excited. “Isn’t this awesome?! I thought that’d give us time to go to the mall first - don't sweat it, I'll drive us - find something cute to wear, and then we can start the journey over to the bowling alley!”

You’re not sure why you have to dress cute, too, but you assume she doesn’t want to potentially appear overdressed, so at least if you’re there and he’s underdressed, he’s in the minority. You let her have her little makeover moment - as much as it all hurts to help Chrissy live your dream, she's just too nice to direct any ill will towards. 

When you meet up with Eddie, he has smartened up a little - he's wearing a plaid button-up, though you see his homemade Hellfire shirt peek out beneath it, and a leather jacket. He's absolutely beaming at the sight of you both - which if course he is, you're stood next to the most infectious smile in Hawkins. He greets you with the same motion he did in the cafeteria, “Long time no see,” he smirks. “Shall we?”

Eddie turns his nose up at swapping his Reeboks for “clown shoes”, while Chrissy notices that hers squeak if she slides her feet in just the right way and obsesses over it, trying to get a sound out of every step. 

Chrissy insists on "ladies first" as she writes her name without hesitation. She writes yours next, then Eddie's. It goes about the same as any other bowling game - though when you revel in getting the first strike, Chrissy pulls you in for a hug and practically throws you at Eddie to also hug him. 

He smells nicer than he does at school. You feel his laugh rumble in his chest, "Thank you? I'd put that down to Hawkins High smelling worse in general."

Shoot. You'd said that out loud. You play it off with a semi-awkward laugh and a, "Yeah, that's probably it!" 

Eddie gets the next strike, and Chrissy ushers you forward first to praise him. This tactic, admittedly, just genuinely puzzles you. Does she just want to be the most recent physical contact of his? But then why wouldn't she do the opposite when you got your first strike? None of it seems to make sense. Is this why she needs a wingman? Do you need to step in and intervene? You offer him a hug identical to the one he gave, and as much as you try to keep it as brief as possible, you can't help but linger just a little.

You try your best to not play your A-game, giving Chrissy the chance to try and impress Eddie all by herself, but she keeps hyping you up just as much, if not more. You try and play off like you're at least mildly disappointed, and Eddie ruffles your hair sympathetically. You glare at him and he chuckles, "C'mon, you promised me fries, didn't you?"

The three of you share the food between yourselves, Eddie eating the most, which he'd predicted and already "repaid" for by buying all your drinks. Chrissy excuses herself to the bathroom, and Eddie spots you eyeing a nearby claw machine. "You know there's a trick to those, right?"

Your brow furrows. "Isn't it, like, random? When the claw actually grips or whatever?"

Eddie taps his nose knowingly, "Trust me. C'mon," he gestures with his head and you follow him over to it. "Pick one."

You raise your eyebrows. "You're that confident?!" He nods, and you press your forehead to the glass as you choose, "That one. Teddy bear, black and curly hair."

"Just like me," Eddie smiles, taking a final loud slurp of his drink followed by an equally loud gasp. "Stand back, please." You comply, hopping back to watch over his shoulder as he explains his actions. "See, you're not wrong, but you can increase your chances, thanks to a handy little friend called physics. If we just keep, it, moving," he punctuates every pause with the press of a different button, aiming the claw so that it starts to swing, "so that it still wants to swing even as it comes up," his voice drawls a little slower as the claw descends, clutching your preferred toy in its grasp, "and then when it does," he pauses for effect to show you the claw swinging on its ascent, "gravity should keep it central enough as it swings back and forth that it should… Fall…" He extends each word until it drops into the shaft, where he extends his hands out proudly, "Right where you want it."

Your eyes are wide, fixated on where the best now sits. "And yet it's taken you how long to get a D grade?!"

He laughs, "Listen, if physics was taught through hotwiring cars and figuring out arcade game mechanics, I'd be running that class. Same as how I can count a 7d6 roll in seconds, but long division? When am I ever going to use that again, you know?"

“You’re a smart one, Mr Munson,” you smirk as he takes the bear out and hands it to you. Your breath hitches as you feel his fingers brush against yours, and you chide yourself for getting so flustered, not only over someone who a separate person has sought your help to set them up with, but over an action so basic.

Chrissy suddenly appears, bouncing between the two of you. “Ooh, what are we up to?” she asks in a delighted sing-song.

“Just showing off my mad skills," Eddie beams, leaning against the machine and holding his arms out to point at himself proudly.

Slightly dejected, you hand the bear over. "Yeah, look, he won this for you!"

Chrissy looks at Eddie with a face you can't quite read. Like she's questioning him. He returns the expression, and Chrissy shakes her head. "You hold onto it for now, come get another drink with me!" Less of an offer, more a warning as she takes your wrist and pulls you over to the vendor again. "So, talk me through this," she says when you're both definitely out of Eddie's earshot. "How could Eddie have won something for me when I wasn't even there?"

You shrug, "I dunno, but it seems to be going well, right? So, you want me to get out of you guys' hair now, or…?" After that brief contact, you're ready to go home and just scream into your pillow for all eternity.

"Why would - Oh! Oh. Oh, no," Chrissy goes on a whole journey of expression, from curiosity to surprise to realisation to bursting into a fit of giggles. "No, no, oh my god. Did you think that I was - that you were -?"

You look at her, totally lost. "I'm going to need you to please finish at least one of those sentences."

Chrissy holds back a snort of laughter before ordering just two drinks. "Oh god, you two are just precious little disasters, aren't you?" Your eyes narrow, and she holds your arm gently. "Okay, so I'm going to be the one to go, now, because my role here was to try and push the two of you together."

Chrissy's words echo in your head. So many thoughts consume you. She notices this and, after taking both drinks, guides you over to one of the designated booths for food, also waving Eddie over. He walks up to where you both sit, opting for sidling into your side. "Do I get to be filled in on whatever's going on here, or…?" Eddie asks, waving between the three of you.

"So, debrief time," Chrissy starts, placing her hands on the table. "Maybe I'm not the wingwoman I thought I was." Eddie's eyes go wide for a second before his expression becomes one of confusion. She continues, looking straight at him, "I, uh, accidentally led your date on to believe that I was the one who wanted to come here with you. So,” she slides the cups over to your side of the table, “I'm going to go now, you two finish these drinks and go play the one more game of bowling I already paid for, and I'll see you guys tomorrow, 'kay?" With one more slap of the table, Chrissy stands up, slides out of the booth and leaves.

Eddie sucks on his straw nervously while you play with the teddy bear sitting in your lap. You're the first one to break the silent tension, "So. Never thought to just, ask me out?"

Eddie chuckles humourlessly. "You live the life that I have, and matters of the heart become an unattainable luxury." You rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. "Although," he smirks, "if you had just asked me out, I wouldn't have been caught longingly gazing at you from afar by Chrissy Cunningham, of all people."

You laugh, "Shut up," But Eddie shakes his head, his hair tickling your face in the process. He notices, and tucks it behind his ear.

"It's true! Since all cards are on the table, Chrissy caught me looking over at you last week, before your theatre friends caught you, and then next thing I knew, I'm being flagged down by the two of you, who are suddenly best pals," he crosses his fingers together.

"And… How long before that?" You ask tentatively.

Eddie shrugs his shoulder to gently jolt your head. "Nuh-uh, your turn first, I've already embarrassed myself enough." As you lift your head, you notice a flush of colour adorning his cheeks.

You, too, immediately turn red enough to blend in with the Coca-Cola sponsored furniture. "Um, well… We never really talked in middle school, but I remember thinking you were really cute, with your hair just growing out and the - the handwritten shirts you used to make, I always thought they were cool. I told my best friends at a slumber party, and they said you probably wouldn't even give me the time of day; I was younger and not skilled in any way to play in your band, so they told me you wouldn't care." Eddie's brow furrows, but he lets you continue. "Then, freshman year, I'd tried to join the school paper with my friends, but it was so not my scene. And I didn't know where else to go, but you just… Took me in, just like that. I told myself I wouldn't screw this up, that I'd only act on stuff if I knew it wasn't going to make things weird.  And now, ironically, here I am having the weirdest conversation of my life."

"So, good news about that, weird is kind of my thing," Eddie starts, amused. "You really liked me for that long, huh?" You nod, and he laughs. "So, whenever you would sit next to me on the bus, even when there were empty seats…"

You nod, cringing, "I thought that might be something, like the start of some kind of epic middle school love story, but you proved my friends right. You wouldn't even talk to me,” you shrug.

He smirks, "Because my freshly-teenaged brain had no idea how to approach the very first person he felt attracted to."

If this were a cartoon, there’d be steam blowing out from your ears, you’re that red. “Shut up,” you mutter with a shy smile, looking back down again at the toy in your lap.

“It’s true!” Eddie beams. “I just kinda thought that… I don’t even know,” he shakes his head. “I thought maybe you might be the one to bring up the fact that you would always sit next to me.”

“And I would always sit next to you in the hopes you would bring that up to me,” you giggle.

Eddie moves his knee to rest next to yours, “God, what a pair of idiots we were, huh.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m the one who didn’t even realise I was being set up on this date,” you admit sheepishly.

“I mean, there were moments today where I thought maybe I was the third wheel all along!” Eddie laughs. “So, I kinda get it.” He reaches over to gently poke at the bear. “Got a name for him yet?”

You hold it up onto the table. “Yeah, Teddy Munson, after his dad,” you gently nudge him with your shoulder and he laughs. “He’s got your hair.”

“Yeah, but he’s got his mom’s cuteness,” Eddie looks sideways at you, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips.

Taken aback, you scoff, “Oh sure, now he’s smooth!”

Eddie’s loud laugh fills your ears, causing your smile to reach them, too. “Well, now he knows he’s got a shot. Better late than never, right?”

“In that case, you should know that I totally botched that last game on purpose,” you nod.

Eddie leans back in his seat, a cocky half-smile adorning his face as he looks at you with head cocked and an arm draped across the back of the booth seat. “Oh, yeah? Sure you did.”

“Sorry, remind me, uh, who was it that got the first strike? And then suddenly got way worse? How do you explain that?” you lean back to match his energy, the adrenaline of a half-lifelong crush finally being actively reciprocated charging you.

“I’d call that a fluke, but it’s okay. Whatever helps you sleep tonight,” Eddie’s arm reaches up to once again ruffle your hair. In doing so, he ends up at a closer proximity to you. Oh, you could just lean in a fraction and simply smooch his smug face clean off of him right there and then, but your competitiveness just gets the better of you.

“Fine. Chrissy said she bought us a game, right? Let’s go,” you gesture to the alleys, and he hops out of the booth by pushing himself up to perch his feet on the seat and then vaulting over the back. You clap at his acrobatics and he bows his signature bow at you, before offering his hand to help you out. You take it, carefully shuffling out of the booth while also holding the teddy to your chest, explaining softly, “I’m bearing precious cargo, here.”

Eddie snorts, “Bear-ing,” while pointing to him, and you roll your eyes. “C’mon, you love it,” he drawls as you jokingly start to walk towards the exit, but he tightens his grip on your hand and instead pulls you over to the counter. Apparently, Chrissy had already explained the situation to the girl who was working, having given her a brief description of who to look for.

You take on the responsibility of writing your names on the card beneath the projector, while Eddie drapes himself over you. With a laugh, you ask, "You good?"

"Who, me? Sorry, my presence isn't too distracting for you, is it?" 

"So is your tactic to annoy all your dates, or am I just the lucky one?" You ask with amusement.

"Oh, yeah. you mean the absolute hordes of people just lining up for a night with ol' Eddie, you're gonna have to beat them all off with a stick if you want a shot!" He yells sarcastically as he dramatically prances around you, making you laugh harder.

"Right, but I can't be your first date, surely?" You ask. You've never seen him with anyone, but you never know. Maybe he's more of a casual guy. Maybe even this is casual. Maybe, considering how wrong you were about Chrissy, you should stop making your own assumptions and wait for him to tell you.

He shrugs, "I've been on plenty of double dates where I've been the buffer-slash-distraction, but I've never really clicked with any of those. Let me put it this way - I bully the people I hold dear to me, and you're the only date I've bullied."

"I think there's a compliment in there somewhere," you pull a face, eyes darting around as you try to piece his sentence together. 

"Alright, hotshot, let's see what you got," Eddie smirks, patting your back.

"Ooh, he's a poet! Can I expect a Corroded Coffin song about me, soon?" You grin, picking out your preferred ball.

"Yeah, it's gonna be called Humble Pie, 'cause that's what you'll be eating soon," he pinches your nose between his index and middle knuckles before gesturing towards your lane. "The floor is yours."

Taking aim and bending low, you take the shot and nail it, watching all the pins fall with glee in your eyes. You swivel round to grin at Eddie, "See?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't think I'm not onto your little distraction technique, bending that far just to bowl," Eddie raises his eyebrows.

You narrow your eyes, gesturing to the other lanes, “It’s a legitimate strategy, Eddie, look at everyone else.”

Eddie barely glances over at them before stepping towards you. “No, I think you’re definitely doing it on purpose.” He closes the gap between you, looking down as he drawls, “I’m onto you, kid.”

Yet again, you could just give into temptation, grab his face and kiss him. Let him think of nothing else for the rest of the game. But then, perhaps that’s his plan for you. Regardless of how the game goes, your flirting’s become a competition in itself now. And you’re going to win.

You do lean in. You watch his eyes flicker down, his lips twitch. And then you pinch his cheek, “Your turn, big boy.” You walk back to the bench, and take a little extra pride in the oooh you can hear as he blows a breath out while he watches you.

On every good shot you get, you gloat. On every bad shot you get, you completely avoid Eddie, despite him chasing you around to goad you. On every good shot of Eddie’s, you pull a sarcastic look at his celebrations. 

On a particularly bad shot of Eddie’s, you pout as you tease condescendingly, “Aww, could somebody not keep the ball out of the gutter? Poor thing.”

“Alright, now I am gonna have to stop you there, unless you want all this to go to waste,” Eddie points out with another drawl.

“And why would it go to waste?” you ask, folding your arms. “That’d only be the case if we both forfeited, which isn’t -”

Eddie stands close to you to murmur, “Keep that tone of voice up, and I’ll be forfeiting us both into the back of my truck, if you catch my drift.”

Normally an admission like this would render you floored, but you’re competition-fuelled-adrenaline-filled now. You narrow your eyes, “Using theoretical sex as a distraction technique, Munson? A low blow, even for you.”

“God, you are doing so many things for me right now,” he growls. “And I’d show you how non-theoretical that promise is but, uh, I think Gramps and the crew might have something to say,” he jerks his head over to the team of older bowlers in the lane next to you.

You bite your lip. “Loser of the game has to get the winner off?”

“Deal.”

When Chrissy calls you up the next morning, you tell her of how you and Eddie kissed for the first time as a celebration of the result of that second match. You opt to leave out the part that took place inside the van, where Eddie came in his pants while moaning your name between your legs as he devoured you to your climax.

[thetwelfthcrow]

Soooo can we get recs for 443316?👀

but of COURSE you can !!

▴🏎 4433 fic recs: with Charles edition 🏎▴

welcome everyone to this special fic rec list: 443316 - fics where, in whatever order, lewis/max/charles are together. it's a short list, but i hope that serves only as an invite to write these three more. as far as i know these are the only fics in this ot3 ship and they're amaziiiing! i sincerely invite all lestappen, 4433 and 4416 shippers to give these a try. even if you don't like one of these three ships, these two fics are absolutely worth your time - i promise !

AO3 collection with all my Formula One bookmarks general favorite fics in the 4433 ship favorite christmas fics in the 4433 ship favorite omegaverse fics in the 4433 ship

always be sure to check the accurate and updated tags on the fic itself (i only copy a few)! if your fic is on here and you'd like me to link your tumblr then just comment below and i'll add it :)

▴ honey, there is no right way [series] by latebrakers | 11,3k | incomplete secret relationship 4433, charles helps them / pining / getting together

(1) fair weather | G | 3k | complete

The first time, Max asks Charles for a favor. The next time Max could use some help, Charles offers it himself.

(2) fair warning | T | 5k | complete

Charles thought he was being generous, at first, but now he just feels greedy.

(3) fair share | M | 3k | complete

Lewis takes his phone out of his pocket and props it on the porch railing. “Two minutes,” he announces. “Everyone think of a wish.” Charles could not possibly think of just one. Or: Charles books a flight to Colorado.

▴ three [series] by additivity | 20,3k | incomplete secret relationship / relationship reveal friends with benefits

straight-ish | M | 3,6k | complete

There were a lot of photos of Formula 1 drivers on the internet. But none like this.

amateur photography | E | 16,6k | 5/5ch, complete

Lewis really isn't looking for a relationship. Which is why his current arrangement is pretty perfect. What's not so great is trying to explain that to his press officer while F1 twitter self-destructs about it.

▴ behind different doors [series] by kiwialicat | 49,3k | incomplete established fwb lestappen / voyeurism / unresolved feelings

It’s not the size of your motorhome it’s how you use it | E | 6k | complete

Max looks back at him, and then down at the hand that Lewis still has firmly planted on Charles’s knee. Despite Lewis being a little less sharp than usual, it’s definitely not lost on him. “Jealous, Maxy?” Lewis doesn't want to waste this champagne, post Silverstone 2020 round one. He goes to find someone to celebrate with and gets a little more celebration than he'd hoped for.

Let’s feel this and think later | E | 31k | 6/6ch, complete

Lewis is pretty sure when it comes to Max and Charles there are strings, of one form or another, but he can’t deny there’s also a pretty incredible pay-off attached to those strings. It's the second week of the British GP double header, and it's a bit more memorable than usual for Lewis with a new version of Max and Charles in his life.

Room for three | E | 11k | complete

“So…” Lewis breathes deeply, “this offer…” he watches his hands open and close in front of him, “is this just a one-time thing? Tonight only?” Lewis has Max and Charles over for dinner. Some eating, some talking and some other stuff ensues.

▴ He Hit Me (It Felt Like A Kiss) by m00nlightE | 18,8k | 2/5ch, incomplete omegaverse / alpha max, alpha lewis, omega charles / emotional manipulation

It was something they’d often discussed at the beginning of the relationship: the potential that one day, sometime in the future, the three of them could end up fighting for a championship title against one another. So when the start of the 2021 season came around and it looked like Red Bull might be bringing the competition to Mercedes at last, Charles couldn’t help but feel the battle between his partners was inevitable. He just never expected to get so caught in the middle of it all. OR: Charles, Max and Lewis, and how their relationship turned toxic over the course of the 2021 season.

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

askbox always open for your favourite 4433(16) fics! i love to know what you love to read. this list is not complete (nor will it ever be), but it turned out all 443316 fics are amazing so these are the only fics in the tag rn. this IS AN INVITE to everyone reading all the way to here to write 443316 heheh! enjoy reading!

[twopoppies]

Hi!! What are your personal favourite fics ever ? And could u do a list of your fav deleted fics? I think I really just need new fics to read Haha Xx

Oh, I love that question. Okay, I already have a list of Favorite Fics, but here are my fave deleted ones:

Into The Blue by Zarah5 (E, 117K) honestly, I love all of this author’s fics, but I think this is my favorite of theirs. Louis as a flirty scuba instructor? Newly single Harry who just wants a fling? Boys living on other sides of the world who only have a few weeks together? Heartbreak. Hot af smut. OT5 friendship. Please….give me all that shit.

Pull Me Under by zarah5 (E, 140K) One of the very first fics I read when I came into this fandom…and I’ve read it multiple times since. Zarah’s fics hold up every time. This one has it all, great pacing, ot5 friendship, banter, super sexy smut, etc etc. Plus, Louis being super jealous of Harry’s best friend.

to hell with romancing by bottomlinsons (E, 8K) This is worth reading for Harry’s internal monologue alone. This is just a funny fic that morphs into a sweet and really sexy one.

Dream Awake by protagonist_m (M, 31K) beautifully written, this one pulled me in and I got lost in the story so deeply. It’s one of those fics that really deserved a wider audience.

pretty in pink by hereforlou (E, 6K) I love this author’s writing and they give suck a realistic portrait of an established relationship in this one: Harry is whiny and needy. Louis is indulgent and loving. The whole thing is very sexy.

into joy i’m sailing by hereforlou (E, 5K) This fic is so tender and soft and sexy. The whole idea behind the fic was just something that felt very real and so fully realized.

This is cheating, but I honestly love so many of hereforlou’s fics, so here are all the ones I have.

feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright (M, 123K) I read this one so, so long ago that all I remember is that I loved it, that there’s some really romantic and sweet moments, and that my notes from way back when only say, “OMG this one is so good! And I’ve barely gotten to the smut!” HAHAHAHA!

Good Enough to Eat by objectlesson (E, 7K) This author always does such a good job with depicting young, queer love and the way their characters experience the overwhelm of realizing they’re not straight, realizing the’ve met their Person, pining, and giving in. I love a lot of their fics, but I think this is my favorite of them. However, I highly recommend looking through all of them.

as he that sleeps here swims by Acavall (M, 23K) This was one of the very first fics I read in the fandom way back in 2013. It’s sweet and charming and a little melancholy (happy ending of course). Harry’s a ghost, there’s a little magic involved, and there’s a sweet 8K epilogue, as well.

In Vogue by otpforever (M, 121K) This one is just….so much. The intensity of the characters, the crazy hot smut (oh god, the window scene), the FASHION, the angst (I had to take a walk around the block after reading it), the epic love story between two men who could rule the world if they could just figure their shit out. Loved it.

like a boomerang by youwill (M, 48K) Very loosely based on the movie Groundhog’s Day (essentially just the concept of reliving a day over and over), this fic is delightful and charming and really worth a read.

Take Care Down By The Water by shyserious (M, 37K) Not quite mermaids, but oh my goodness I loved this fic. Magical realism, mythical creatures, dreamy/moody atmosphere, beautiful writing.

Where Your Heart Is by tvshow_addict (E, 154K) One of my all-time favorite fics and an absolute must read IMO. Chock full of hurt/comfort (both emotionally and physically), this fic is so moving and so beautiful and will take you on an emotional roller coaster ride from start to finish.

The Road Less Travelled by freetheankles E, 98K) Also known as “the lumberjack fic”, this fic is an instant classic. The author makes widowed Louis’ pain and depression so real and so moving. The characters are three-dimensional and complex and the well written sexual tension is finally relieved with super hot smut.

You Always Make Me Smile by champagneboyband (E, 60K, WIP) Yes, it’s a WIP. I’m listing it because the hope that someday it will be updated gives me the will to live. But also because even as a WIP this fic has everything I love. The characters are multi-faceted, the sexual chemistry is off the charts, the background story is complex enough to give the story numerous possibilities for angst and everything else. WHY MUST IT REMAIN A WIP???

something so precious about this by champagneboyband (E, 4K) this is just endearing and awkward and so well written. I love how much you get a sense of their connection and their inexperience and how much they care for each other in just a few thousand words.

I have lots more that I haven’t read, but of the ones I have, these are my faves. You can also check my DELETED FICS tag for more or search my blog for an author’s name. If someone has asked for their fics, it will be tagged.

[peachdues]

This is such a dumbass question to ask but what sort of stuff do you learn as a lawyer? And what type of shit do you have to study for a bar exam? Just read a few stories on it and sounds like fucking HELL — if this the sorta question you don't wanna answer, thats totally chill with me, I just like knowing what sorta coursework certai. Qualifications make you go through.

Ahhh okay, so explanation of the American legal education incoming.

So first thing — you have to have a four year bachelor’s degree in almost every state to even apply for law school. So four years of university are required before you can apply. Law school itself is 3 years, so in total, you’re in school for seven years.

Your first year you have absolutely no control over your schedule — every first year at every law school takes the same courses. You have no say over what time your classes are either — my first year, I was in class from 9-4:30 every day, with roughly an additional 6 hours or reading an assignments to do after. You quite literally cannot work during your first year of law school. These are all the courses you take during your first year:

Civil procedure (I and II)

Contracts

Constitutional law ( I and II)

Legal research and writing (I and II)

Property

Criminal law

Torts

All of these courses are tested on the bar exam that you have to take once you’ve graduated in order to be a lawyer. It’s not enough to graduate from law school — surprise!! You get to pay $5k-ish to re learn everything you’ve spent three years learning for a two day examination that literally determines your livelihood lmao. It’s very stressful — a lot of law firms make their job offers contingent upon passing the Bar, so it’s an incredibly high stress time and you get a grand total of six weeks to study.

Your second and third year are a bit more flexible. However, there are 17 Bar-tested subjects. 11 of them are absolutely tested (the first year subjects + evidence and criminal procedure I and II), but the other six are a toss up. You have no idea what’s going to be tested until exam day. So you can take classes your second and third year that are “Bar classes” but it’s not recommended you do so because you’ll hate yourself. The Bar subjects are the hardest and most dense courses.

My second and third year allowed me to explore my interests more — so intellectual property was a big one. I was also on law review and had two very big and very time consuming fellowships (I was one of 2 students in my entire state to get one fellowship that I had to go through the ringer to get lmao). Your second and third years are more about setting yourself up for a job after law school and it’s SO competitive. Like cut throat, even among friends. I hated that aspect of it lmao.

And then like I said — despite taking an entire semester’s worth of these classes and passing the exams (which average 3-5 hours for each exam but I had exams as long as 10 hours STRAIGHT), you get to do it all over again for an exam that’s only offered twice a year and literally determines whether you can be a lawyer!! The Bar exam was the worst experience. I was isolated for an entire summer, studying 10-16 hours a day and utterly cut off from loved ones. It’s a dark time lmao but I’m so glad I found solace here, with you all. Truly this blog kept me sane.

The exam itself is two days, and each day is a full eight hours. It’s designed to be a mindfuck and it’s designed for people to fail. It’s terrible!

[polar-equinoxx]

A fic masterlist! Finally!

And here is my ao3 account :D

Take your pick, all of these are sfw, full of fluff or angst and definitely hurt/comfort; and are rated either gen or teen^^

More detailed summaries added underneath each one and oh my god this post is so long

featuring the main two of all of these bc why the hell not

Oh and the series on ao3 is linked in the headings of each sector :)

I will be updating this whenever I write more fics, so keep watch XD

☁️The heavens told me that clouds have been grey

all of my icemav fics! So guaranteed smooches <3 none of them link to each other unless they are in a seperate series ^^

find the masterlist here! yes I made a seperate post its because there are so many of them quq

🌟Canons shoot ships but not this one

all of my fics that could fit into the canon timeline, (featuring an occasional icemav smooch cus lets be for real they did probably kiss at least once)

find the masterlist here! yes I made a seperate post for this too lmao

Long-fics (5k or above)

🍁Hot Summer Nights to Cold Winter Days (18k words, 10 chapters split between two works)

Rated Teen, with fluff and a genourous amount of angst and hurt/comfort

When Goose and his pilot were allowed to go to Top Gun, then Ice couldn’t think of anything better. Only until he’d seen Maverick and fallen head over heels in love with him. That July Saturday had changed everything, Goose had gone, and Maverick had fallen into a deep dark pit, and Ice, wanting to look out for Maverick, had dived straight in after him, unwilling to let his wingman get stuck there. Ice promised Maverick he’d go to the ends of the earth with him, and that is what he would do, even if it meant they’d both hurt.

❄️Returning to You (25k words, 15 chapters)

❄️ Letters : Epilogue (1.5k words)

Rated Teen, a lot of angst. Seriously. But a lot of hurt comfort to make up for it :,) Oh yeah, the amnesia is the cause of the angst..

In the months after Goose’s death, Maverick has been forging a deep friendship with Iceman. So deep, in fact it feels like nothing could come between them, even though he hasn’t been entirely honest about exactly how he is feeling. It’s hard to do, but it only seems to get harder when a scouting mission takes a turn for the worse.

🌷Galloping into the Cold (5k+ words, completely a wip, 3 chapters right now)

Rated Teen, angst, fluff hurt-comfort, medieval au, they ride horses.

Thomas Kazansky, nicknamed Ice for the personality that isn’t even his; feels like he’s stuck in his pampered posh life. That’s until he falls off his horse and meets Peter Mitchell and realises he might have a chance to be something other than his surname.

🌙 when the human strokes your skin, that is when you let them in (29k words, 14 chapters)

Rated Teen, angst hurt/comfort and secretive mutual pining with miscommunication sprinkled on top

Top Gun. Top Gun! Maverick had only gone and actually done it, and it would be the best five weeks of his life, for sure. If only there wasn’t a distraction with the name of Iceman. Anyway, he was so relieved that he was going to do it and win that trophy with Goose. But many things don’t go to plan.

🌹Roses (5k words, a 4+1)

Rated Teen, angst, unrequited love, a lot of valentines days, pining and eventual fluff

Nobody in Iceman’s life has meant more to him than Pete Mitchell does. He’s dangerous and annoying but incredibly cute, and Ice thinks if he looks at him one more time with that smile of his, his legs are going to give out under him. Try as he might, he can’t say anything to address the crush he has on him. // Or, the four times Ice wants to admit to Maverick that he loves him and the one time he does.

🧊Not Enough (11k words, a 5+1)

Rated teen, angst, self doubt, abusive parents, mutual pining and eventual fluff

Iceman has been told one way or another and all through his life that he's not good enough, for whatever that may be. He dreads turning out even the slightest bit like his father, and he'll do everything in his power to stop himself from becoming like him. / Or, five ways people say to Ice that he's not enough and the one time he says it.

🐎Heaven In Your Eyes (WIP, 2 chapters at 3k)

They r cowboys, no-one dies, (!?!), they ride horses, with pining, fluff and friends to lovers

Thomas Kazansky is the notorious peace-maker of the new place in Colorado the people call Durango. Pete Mitchell was supposed to be passing it on his way to California, but the small town seemed nice enough to stay for while. For some reason, their paths keep crossing, but Pete, as rebellious as he is, doesn't mind. / Or, a western icemav fic that takes place in 1886

❤️‍🩹Goose lives AU (Goose lives and there's no such thing as DADT)

❤️‍🩹Seasick (1632 words)

Rated Teen, sickfic, hurt/comfort A mission is flown, the mission is successful, but a certain Pete Maverick Mitchell is seasick. Badly.

❤️‍🩹Saved by Sickness (2037 words)

Rated Teen, sickfic, hurt/comfort, this is how Goose lives lol The thing about Iceman is that he never gets sick. Or at least he thought he didn’t. Most of the time it was just a cold. Most of the time he jut felt a little bit more tired for a couple of days, then he was back to normal. This was not one of those times, as he's about to find out.

❤️‍🩹Spur of the Moment (3788 words)

Rated Teen, with fluff, pining, Goose and Slider embarrassing both Ice and Mav, and no DADT cus who am I to do that??? Maverick is about to fall asleep standing. He's so tired that the last thing he's going to be thinking about is what comes out of his mouth. Especially if it's 'baby'. Especially if it's to his wingman. Or, Maverick calls Ice 'baby' for the first time.

🕊Angelus AU (The icemav boys are angels, but that isn't normal)

🕊Growing Pains (1494 words)

Rated Teen, patching up injuries, angst, post-argument, hurt/comfort He doesn’t know how he gets to his bathroom, but once he reaches a point that lets him lift his head up to try and see his back in the mirror, he’s immediately chucked into a pit of horror and disbelief. “Oh god-” His wings were growing. God dammit of course they had to choose tonight to start.

🕊Cold Wings (2137)

Rated Teen, patching up injuries, fluff, hurt/comfort

The good news? Ice was there. / The bad news? There was blood all over his back and he was about to collapse over the sink. / “Oh jesus christ-” Maverick says as he shuts the door behind him and goes straight over to him, dropping the towel on the floor. || Or, Ice's wings decide to appear at a very awkward time.

🌠Shooting Stars (A small series where the icemav both stargazed as kids and Maverick dated Charlie beforehand)

🌠Starboard Half Light (3104 words)

Rated Gen, with pining, and hurt/comfort

It had been such a tiring day, and so emotionally charged too, so why was Maverick still wide awake? It seemed like the only option he had left was to go see Iceman, his newly titled wingman. Hopefully he was awake. Maverick just wanted to talk to someone. Or, Maverick and Iceman talk on the starboard side of the USS Enterprise for the entire night

🌠Shooting Stars (1886 words)

Rated Teen, a lot of kissing and pining. So much kissing seriously.

Maverick has always loved stargazing, ever since he was a kid. He has also had a crush on Iceman ever since he laid eyes on him. So what better to do than go stargazing with him, right?

🌠Afterglow (1635 words)

Rated Teen, hurt/comfort obviously with mentions of guilt tripping and Mav's past relationship with Charlie

“I- I promised…” “Hey, hey… you don’t have to be s-” “Yes I do,” Maverick interrupts him. “I promised her I wouldn’t because she’d- she…” She? “Who, Mav?” Or, Maverick wakes up in the middle of the night and tries to hide the nightmare he's just had from Ice, because he knows what will happen if he tells him.

[saint-siren]

Commissions

I’m doing commissions now for any of the people I write for (who you can find here). Though, in addition, I’ll write for anyone in Wmmap, The villainess reverses the hourglass, Father, I don’t want to get married, HOTD and Castlevania as I’m a lot more familiar with the whole cast of those as opposed to aot/genshin etc. where I was mostly invested in one or two characters tbh 😵‍💫

Guidelines

⟡ I won’t write rape/sexual scenarios for underaged characters/anything dead dove. I won’t write character x character. 

⟡ I will write oc x canon, character x reader, comfort character letters, sfw & nsfw, headcanons, platonic/romantic/familial relationships, angst and fluff. Though I personally usually write fem!reader on my blog because it’s self indulgent, I’ll write for readers of any gender/gender expression or gender neutral, whatever you prefer!

⟡  If I go over requested wordcount, I will not ask for you to pay more, I just add whatever I feel is necessary on the house.

⟡ If you’re interested in commissioning me, shoot me a dm with what you want me to write or any questions if you’re unsure and would like to hash out the details! After we’ve confirmed what you want, you can send payment through and I’ll get straight on it! I may turn down the request if it I just don't feel comfortable writing for it but bear in mind I'm fine with most scenarios/kinks.

Pricing

Headcanons: $5

1k words: $10/ NSFW $15

2k words: $15/ NSFW $20

3k words: $25/ NSFW $30

4k words: $35/ NSFW $40

5k words: $45/ NSFW $50

6k words: $50/ NSFW $55

Return times

HC - 1-3 days

1k- 2K words - 3-5 days

3k - 4k words - 1-2 weeks

5k - 6k words - 2-4 weeks

Payment Methods

cashapp

ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/saintirina

[dreamedge]

AO3 tag game :3

shout-out to @ragecndybars for the tag! <3 I got to think a lot about some older fics and also the deep, eternal impact CC has has on my soul, so I'm emotional rn lol.

How many works do you have on AO3?

21! Which is, a lot more than I thought tbh. I've been writing these long, long fics for so many years now that I've sort of forgotten about all the little ones I've managed in between. And even the long ones add up after a while. Though, I did only import a small selection of my fics from ff.net, so the back catalogue of stuff I've actually written is way longer. ... That's fine, some of that stuff can stay buried lol.

Even at 21 though... *Looks at my shoebox of story ideas and outlines* Its... its still not enough. Its, its just no where close to even making a dent in everything I want to write eventually.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

650,444. I'm pretty sure at least half of that is entirely in CC, and another quarter is in can i bleed. Which, tbh I'm not sure how I feel about that lol. Deeply introspective fics, my passion, my talent, my beloathed. Some part of me does miss simply writting 5k chapters and calling it done for a week. Not all of me though.

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Only 10! That number probably isn't going to grow much either. I tend to gravitate towards bigger projects these days rather than simple oneshots or even like, 5 chapter long stuff, so I tend to go all in on a small number of fandoms instead of spreading my attention around, even though I want to.

Cardcaptor Sakura

Digimon

Dragon Age Inquisition

Percy Jackson

Persona 3

Power Rangers RPM

RWBY

Teen Wolf

Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle

BNHA

Top five fics by kudos:

A Most Precious Thing (Tsubasa): tbh this being number one is an absolute surprise, though I'm very happy about it. According to AO3, this was published almost 10 years ago, will be 10 years exactly in just a few weeks, but people still regularly give it kudos and comments. It was a complete experiment, style wise; I'd never written anything like it before, I've written one thing like it since, and I'm just so thankful that people loved it so much despite the inexperience behind it.

Of the Woods (Teen Wolf/CCS): This being so high up is not a surprise, and I'm annoyed about it. Mostly bc I know its only so high up bc its for such a big fandom, written during said fandom's height. I think its probably one of the fic I've soured the most on since I wrote it; its just not that great.

Crests Corrupted (Digimon) : Oh, here it is. My masterpiece. Maybe its weird to say that of the fic that's only 3rd, but it truly is, and to see a fic I have put so much of myself into being even this high and this appreciated means so much to me.

can i bleed within your love (Persona 3) : Hi! I don't have much to say about this one, only that I'm so happy with the sheer outpouring of love this has gotten, and I can't wait to finish it.

True Feelings Chocolate (Digimon) : Oh, um, I sort of forgot about you. What are you doing here? ...This is awkward, I really didn't expect this to do so well. Its just a silly little fic I wrote for valentine's one year. I'm glad it did well?

Do you respond to comments?

I try! I don't succeed a lot of the time; generally I'm very tired after posting a chapter and then its been like two weeks and responding feels awkward. Also I tend to ramble, if you haven't noticed yet, some sometimes I'll just close out of responding to avoid any chance of me accidentally spoiling or saying something I shouldn't. I'm... working on it.

What’s the fic with the angstiest ending you’ve ever written?

Oh that's easy. Its the RWBY one, Your Love on Your Sleeve and Your Pain Buried Deep. I don't tend to write angsty fics, I like happy endings, I think this is the only one I've ever written and I'm glad to keep it that way.

Do you write crossovers?

I've written one before, the TW one that's up there. I generally tend to prefer fusions over straight up crossovers; I've gotten several P3 fusions planned, a PJ fusion, the bnha fic I wrote is a fusion. I just, I love fusions. I greatly prefer writing them over cross-overs generally.

Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

Once or twice, but that was ages ago and I've mostly blocked it from my memory. The fandoms I'm in now have been full of such lovely people, I've been really lucky.

Do you write smut?

Smut, as in the fic happens to have a sex scene? Not typically, but I'm not against doing so when the need calls. Smut, as in the entire point of the fic in the sex scene? No. I'm actually very bad at it. I'll do it if I must but I find even writing kiss scenes awkward, let alone everything else. I will gladly leave it to people much better at their craft them I am.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

To the best of my knowledge? No I don't think so.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had people offer? I don't know if they ever did or even if, in my general ineptitude when it comes to responding to people, I actually agreed they could.

Hey, if anyone wants to translate my works, feel free!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

... Hey, thats not fair.

Hmmm, well, after much thinking I'm gonna go with Kurogane/Fai from TRC. Other ships may currently have their hooks in my brain, but kurofai is a big comfort to me still, I really love them. And lets be honest. Ain't no one doing it like those two.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

I have, its not posted anywhere, and technically I've barely started writing it, its almost entirely outline rn, but I do have a p3 fantasy au thats just... fucking massive. Its a huge project just from the outline i have, long even in comparison to CC, so long that I doubt I'd ever finish it to the point where I've barely started it.

What are your writing strengths?

Combat. I write a damn good fight scene and I know it. I take a lot of pride in that. I also tend to have a pretty solid grasp of pacing on an overall level for longer fics. Per chapter pacing gets a bit more eh, but the overall pacing of arcs and stuff for my longer fics, I generally know what I'm doing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I never know when to shut the fuck up! This is a problem I've known I've had for years. I just let characters go on these long, internal monologues, which is only acceptable because I also write deeply introspective fics. However, it tends to slow chapters down a lot and after a bit, characters repeat themselves and its a problem.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics?

I'm incapable bc I'm monolingual but I've always loved fics that use other languages! Maybe I can do that some day lol.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Yknow, if I dug far far far back in my ff.net account it would probably be Naruto? I think. My memory is fuzzy and I'm not actually going to go look. However, thats the first one I posted.

The *very* first fic i ever wrote, I have a very clear memory of for some reason. It was a FFX2/Series of Unfortunate Events crossover, I was in the fourth grade, I thought it was the coolest thing. Hm, memories.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far?

I actually have two answers for this, which, I know is against the spirit and rule of the question BUT. Too bad.

One is A Most Precious Thing, bc it was such an experience to write. Despite being 10 years old I still love it. It was, as I said above, an utter experiment. It is written entirely in 2nd person, which is not actually a choice? I made? Um, I tried, very hard in the beginning, to write in in my standard 3rd, and it didn't work. The story actively refused to be written as such and I kept ending up back in 2nd. And at some point I just gave up and wrote the rest of it as such. And it taught me, so much, about point of view and how that relates to emotional distance, and really, but trusting myself with my writing, that even if I can't say why this is happening, somewhere deep down there is a reason to it and I should trust that. As a writer who takes my craft very seriously, this one has a soft spot in my heart bc of all of that.

However, Crests Corrupted owns a piece of my soul that I will never get back. It is my thesis, my masterpiece, It has defined years of my life, I have poured hundreds of thousands of words into it, I have given it so much of my heart and my pain. It has redefined how I approach writing, it has shaped, totally, the style in which I write today. Even years from now, even years after I finally finish it whenever that is, I don't think I will ever be truly free of it. It is my favorite. How can't it be?

[jeonsfrvr]

shield : jjk (rmverse)

⇢ pairing: security guard!jungkook x bartender!reader ⇢ genre: fluff, romance, smut ⇢ word count: 18.6k ⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex, rough sex, lots of dirty talk it’s pretty filthy, a brief scene of harassment (it’s not graphic, no touching involved), spanking, hair pulling, jungkook has a big dick, jungkook is the cutest shyest boy to ever exist, reader and jk blush A LOT, jk in a leather jacket that’s about it ⇢ summary: An unfortunate, messy situation involving a drunk asshole not taking no for an answer prompts your boss to hire a new security guard to stay near, just for safe-keeping. When all you were expecting was a guy in his late thirties who couldn’t bother to smile, much less be friendly, you’re pleasantly surprised by the cute, rather shy guy whose job is to keep his eyes on you and protect you for five nights a week.

A/N: I am SOSOSOSO happy with this fic. I had so much fun writing it. This was written in a couple of days where I just sat for straight HOURS writing like,,,,5k words a sitting. I love this with my whole heart and I hope y’all do too. Please, let me know what you think, feedback is, as always, very much appreciated!

Banner was made by the wonderful angel @mikrokosm​ thank you sm baby!!! this looks so much better than the trashy one i made asjsksj

“I’m so sorry, Hobi,” you apologize for the nth time for the night, tone laced with an immense amount of guilt as you watch Seokjin dab the cloth to the corner of Hoseok’s mouth. Hoseok rolls his eyes and looks up at you with a raised brow.

“Why are-ow,” he hisses and jerks back and Seokjin only murmurs a quick apology before pulling him forward and warning him not to move anymore. “Why are you apologizing? How is this your fault exactly?”

“Well, I mean…” Your words trail off and you huff, crossing your arms and leaning back on a table behind you.

“He’s right, __. It’s not your fault that so many guys that come here are jerks,” Seokjin chips in, leaning away from Hoseok for a second to grab the alcohol to clean the newly formed cut near his mouth.

“Still,” you sigh, shuffling over to Hoseok and placing a hand on his shoulder. He smiles up at you gently, but winces the next second when Jin begins cleaning the cut. You sigh once again. “It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me.”

“Oh shut up, will you?” Hoseok groans. “I’ll just start going to the gym and bulk up for this shit,” he chuckles and you laugh along.

“Actually,” Jin pipes in, finally done with Hoseok and begins to tidy up, patting Hoseok’s arm as a signal that he could get up. He looks up at you. “That won’t be necessary,” he informs you with a smile. “After the last time this-” he pauses to gesture with his finger towards Hoseok, who’s inspecting the cut on his phone camera, referring to the last time Hoseok had intervened with a drunk customer who was getting too pushy with you and ended up with a similar cut on the other side of his face because the guy was just way bigger than him. “-happened, I talked to Yoongi.” Yoongi was the owner and Jin was close friends with him, and he entrusted Jin with managing the place and keep it under his supervision.

“I told that this was happening way too often and that we might need some help to keep things under control,” he stands up from his seat and Hoseok finally looks up at him inquisitively. “He told me to interview some people and bring someone to keep near the bar, watch over for you two.”

“Oh,” your eyebrows raise in interest. “I mean-”

“That’d be great, actually,” Hoseok is quick to intervene. He turns to you. “I’d be happy to take a beating any day for you, __. But my poor face can only take so much before it breaks,” he’s only half-joking, you’re sure of that.

You shake your head with a sympathetic smile and cup his cheeks gently. “I’m sorry,” you repeat with a pout before looking to Jin with a bright smile. “Thanks, Jin. We could use the help.”

Jin nods and informs you that he already has someone lined up for the job. “I’ll give him a call tomorrow so we can decide on when he would start.”

You go home that night, pout still slightly showing on your lips as you relive the events of the night. It always seemed that the creepy, perverted customers sat on your side of the bar, getting too comfortable and flirting with you through drunken slurs and winks. You could deal with the flirting, you were trained for it. You knew what kind of men walked into the bar, you simply ignored their usual attempts with a smile and poured their drinks, hoping the alcohol would soon enough inhibit their ability to speak and they would leave you alone.

But some were persistent, words much too vulgar for your liking, tone making your skin crawl, looking at you like you were a piece of meat parading around for their own viewing pleasure, some going as far as leaning over the counter and going for a grab at you. Those were the ones who caused situations like these, who caused scenes and fights and occasionally brought bruises to Hoseok’s pretty face before security could handle it.

You at least went to sleep that night slightly comforted by the fact that there would eventually be someone there to keep the situation under control from now on. You didn’t dwell on it too much, figuring he would be like the rest. The other security guys were mostly guys in their late thirties, bulked up and had intimidating faces that could put any riot down. You didn’t care much, just so long as they did their job right and allowed you to do yours right as well, without any disturbances.

+

Whatever you were expecting when you walked in a couple of nights later for the beginning of your shift, it was not that.

There, talking to Jin, stood a guy. A guy that was, if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, the most attractive person you had seen in a long time, and your job allowed you to see too many faces for your liking every single night.

He was gorgeous.

Adorned in all-black attire, as simple as it might sound, it looked entirely too appealing on him. Long, wavy, dark hair covered his forehead and brushed over his eyes slightly. Black leather jacket thrown over his shoulders, it only hid a little bit of his physique. He was quite tall, and you could quite clearly see that he was built even from where you were stood.

“Ah, __!”

Your name is suddenly being called and the stranger’s eyes are now on you at that same moment. You make eye contact right then and you suddenly feel nervous. You were like that around a lot of people, but especially attractive ones. You’re quick to plaster on a smile and make your way over to the two men, trying hard not to stare too much at the handsome stranger whose gaze is still on you.

Jin places a hand on your shoulder the second you’re at arms distance and smiles at Jungkook. “This here is Jeon Jungkook. And he’s going to be your knight in shining armor, your savior, your-”

“I get it, Seokjin,” you chuckle at Jin’s over-exaggerated introduction and look to Jungkook with a polite smile. Based on Jin’s little show and the events that had occurred earlier this week in this very room, you can honestly guess that this would be the new security guy that Seokjin had informed you would be starting very soon.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook,” you stretch you arm out for a greeting and he takes it in his for a gentle handshake, allowing you to catch a glimpse of tattoos adorning his fist, traveling up his arm where his jacket sleeve rides up slightly with the movement.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he smiles, a very charming smile at that, and you find yourself shaking his hand for too long to be considered normal before dropping your hand quickly with a chuckle, to which he continues to look at you with a curious look in his eyes.

God, he was cute.

“So, um,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet. “When do you start?”

“Tonight,” he immediately answers, stuffing both hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Hyung told me that you needed a hand around here and honestly,” he pauses with a chuckle. “I could use the pay.”

“Hobi will be thrilled to have you here tonight,” you half-joke and Jin laughs.

“She means Hoseok,” Jin tells Jungkook and Jungkook nods. “He’s supposed to come around in a bit. Poor guy always takes beatings for our pretty princess here-”

“Hey,” you whine when Jin lifts a hand to ruffle your hair. You push it away with a huff, sensing heat traveling to your cheeks due to being the center of attention at the moment, and it only deepens when you look to Jungkook and he seems to be staring at you, seemingly studying you as you stand there. It goes on for a moment and you can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with him because you seem to be blushing way too much for a simple first encounter with this guy and look to Jin, who’s staring on amusedly.

Saved by the sound of footsteps coming from behind before a loud greeting fills the room, Hoseok finally making his entrance with a bag swung over his shoulder, strutting over with a pretty smile and a healing cut on his cheek.

“Hello, princess,” Hoseok greets you and swings an arm around your shoulder. There goes that nickname again. Your eyes unintentionally flit up to Jungkook’s and his appear to be glued to Hoseok’s arm placed so casually on your shoulder, and the way you comfortably lean into him.

“Hey,” he directs his speech towards Jungkook with a polite smile, before looking questioningly towards Jin, awaiting a response.

“Jungkook, this is Hoseok,” Jin begins. Hoseok then releases your shoulder from his hold and half leans towards Jungkook with an outstretched arm as Jin continues. “He’ll be working with __. These are the only two pretty faces that you need to worry about, everything else is covered.”

“Oh?” Hoseok pauses with Jungkook’s hand still in his and turns to you with a shocked look, which then morphs into one of relief and happiness. “Oh, you’re Jungkook? Ah, welcome aboard,” Hoseok’s tone is excited and you hold back a chuckle as Jungkook just chuckles and murmurs a couple of  quiet ‘thanks’.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Hobi continues and leans back once again, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “But, um, I didn’t expect you to be this young.”

“He’s not that young,” Jin quickly interjects, shrugging. "He’s about __’s age I think,” Jin guesses and you both look at each other at the same time with hints of smiles at your lips.

“Plus,” Jin continues and places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder with a proud smile gracing his lips, resembling a proud father for some reason. “Our Jungkook here has a black belt in Taekwondo!”

Both yours and Hoseok’s gazes fixate on Jungkook, more impressed than anything and for a moment, his confidence seems to falter and he looks at the ground for a second with a shy smile and shifts his feet, adorned in large combat boots that add onto the irony of this tall man acting coy when being praised.

“So not only will he kick anyone’s ass,” Jin jokes. “It’ll be extra fun to watch.”

+

During the first week of Jungkook working here, you gather a bit of knowledge about him.

You learn that he takes his job seriously. You didn’t know why exactly, but you had kind of sensed that it would be that way since you first met him, and he only proved you right when his first shift arrived and you don’t think you saw his lips twitch up into a smile even once that night. The night passed without a glitch, his eyes gazing over every single drunk body that sat by the bar, or even just simply passed by. 

The following few nights went pretty much the same, albeit a bit slower since it wasn’t terribly busy during weekdays and you had some rare moments to breathe. You couldn’t help it; staring at him. He was just new and you were getting your eyes acquainted with the new handsome guy who happened to be the new security guard who stood in his spot not too far away, adjacent to one of the walls. Hands clasped in front of him, face devoid of any emotion, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the area.

It went like that for the first week, strictly work, not much interactions but friendly smiles when arriving for work and perhaps exchanging a couple of words before Hoseok would come join you two.

“So,” Seulgi, one of the servers and someone you would consider to be your friend her besides Hoseok, says as she leans against her now closed locker while you put your things away in yours before your shift starts. “New guy’s pretty good, huh?”

“I mean,” you tilt your head a little in thought. “Nothing’s really happened since he started-”

“I meant hot, new guy’s pretty hot,” she starts before you start getting into boring detail about analyzing how he does his job and you immediately chuckle.

“Thought you were hung up on Hoseok?” You tease as you shut your locker and turn to her with a smile and she immediately blushes before scoffing at you.

“Doesn’t mean I’m blind,” she retorts. “Besides, nothing’s happened so far probably because they’re all too busy ogling the new hot security guard, all genders included.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a sigh as you begin to make your way out with her trailing beside you. “He is pretty cute.”

Cute was an understatement. He was mesmerizing. You thought seeing him everyday for two weeks would’ve had you accustomed to his face by now but, again, it’s been two weeks and you still stumble over your words when you manage to bump into him as you step out of the locker room with Seulgi right behind you.

“Shit, sorry. Oh-” Your eyes lock with his and he’s just so close. When have you ever stuttered before? “I-I…Sorry, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” his tone is soft and he says it with a smile as he politely steps aside and allows you and your friend to pass by before he begins making his way to the back as well, and you really couldn’t help yourself from looking back at his retreating form down the hall.

“Oh, okay,” Seulgi says in an understanding tone. “I see what it is.”

“You see nothing,” you deadpan and turn to her with a bored glare. “You just stick to trying to get into Hobi’s pants and worry about your own problems-”

“Hey, how dare you- wait! Come back here right now!”

+

The following week takes a different turn with a switch of events.

Hoseok is usually the one in charge of locking up. After everyone clears out, it’s only you and him that stay till the very last moment as you help each other reorganize drinks back into their places and clean up for what feels like the thousandth time that night.

However, he comes to you before the beginning of your shift in the hallway with a pleading look on his face.

“It’s only for this week, I wouldn’t ask if I really didn’t have to but Namjoon wants us to work on the mixtape so we can have it done by next week and leaving early can buy me an extra hour or two and-”

You cut his rambling off with a chuckle and bring your palms up to pinch at his cheeks, intentionally squeezing firmly.

“On one condition,” you raise your eyebrows and Hoseok already knows that you’ve agreed even if he doesn’t agree to your ‘condition’.

“You let me hear it as soon as it’s done,” you say, very seriously and Hoseok relaxes in your hold before pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you-”

“Oh, sorry.”

You hear a familiar voice once you’re fully enveloped in Hoseok’s arms and you don’t know why you pull away so hastily because nothing was even happening, but you look at Jungkook who stands there like he’s walked in on something that was going on.

“Jungkook,” his name slips out of your lips and you’re beginning to grow accustomed to it. And you like how it sounds coming from you, you’re beginning to realize. You smile awkwardly at him. “We were just…” You trail off, not really knowing what to say, and not really understanding why you were currently trying to explain to the guy who was, so far, nothing but a coworker of yours.

“Ah, it’s fine,” he excuses himself with a smile an says something about wanting to go out back before they were open because he wanted some fresh air. Hoseok shrugs and pats your shoulder and tells you that he needed to speak with Jin about something that you don’t quite focus on because you’re busy watching Jungkook walking away.

The night goes by rather fast, quick work, all smooth sailing so far.

Until he walks in.

Im Jaebum.

He visited quite frequently, every month or so, he would come either by himself or with a friend of his. He hasn’t done anything particularly bad, usually very tame and relaxed in comparison to other drunkards around here, but you knew from people who knew him that he wasn’t a very decent guy. And if that wasn’t anything to go buy, you didn’t feel very comfortable with the way he looked at you or the way he, at times, would lean slightly over the counter and brush a finger over your hand or wrist while he attempted to flirt you up.

You were usually very professional and ignored his attempts because, sadly, he was loaded (all scumbags are) and you weren’t going to deprive yourself of any tips. When you felt he was going too far, you would send Hoseok over to take over his side of the bar and tell him that he was being extra creepy tonight, and Hoseok would nod without hesitation.

Tonight didn’t seem to be looking too good the second you spotted Im Jaebum and not only one, not two, but three other guys who you only assumed to be his close friends with the way they all were laughing loudly together.

You huff and look to Hoseok with a gaze that said you were already done before they even got here, but quickly replace it with a smile as soon as they stand by your side of the bar and you splay both palms against the counter and direct your attention towards them.

“What can I get you tonight?”

You can’t really see it since you haven’t looked his way much this past night, but Jungkook’s eyes are glued on you. Well, not really just you, more so the group of loud, rambunctious men who just piled in a couple of minutes ago and are centered around you. He watches closely, gaze hardening with every passing second because Jungkook knew, he just knew when something didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right how, as his eyes laser focused on all four mean, their eyes seemed to be taking in every little move you made. His eyes flicker over to you and, from his past two weeks of working here and watching you (as discreetly as possible), he now knew how it looked like when you were uncomfortable. Eyes not lifting up once from the counter, lips rubbing together tightly and teeth occasionally pulling and gnawing at your bottom lip, smile not as wide as it usually is when you slide the drinks over to them.

Jungkook is a very attentive man, but that trait seems to have doubled when he started working here - started working with you.

He knew it was coming. Any second now. He could hear their loud laughter and the shameless comments he could catch every now and then when the music was low enough and he strained his hearing hard enough to make sense of them. His blood boiled. He just wanted you to look once his way, only once, and tell him to move. Do something. But you don’t. You continue to work and serve them round after round.

And so he takes it upon himself to take action when one of them reaches across the bar and grips your wrist when you place another drink in front of him. You freeze because he’s leaning forward to whisper something to you, something you know is not going to be in the least bit appropriate and is going to make you want to throw up whatever lunch you had this day. However, he doesn’t get close enough because someone is gripping his shoulder and pulling him back, and all the air that had been caught in your throat at his revolting touch is released in a gasp as you watch none other than Jungkook, face as stoic as ever, pull the smaller man up and off his bar stool.

“Excuse me, sir,” he speaks in a stern voice that you’re hearing for the first time since you met him, an incredible contrast to the soft and gentle tone he usually utters his words around you and everyone else around here.

“Please stay seated behind the bar,” he states. “And hands to yourself.”

You look at Jungkook and, despite maintaining a professional act and keeping his face neutral, his jaw is clenched tight and his nostrils are flaring. The men seem entirely too careless to that fact and they only bust out into laughter, seeming to think they own the place and that this mere inconvenience shouldn’t be enough to deter their fun for the night. One of them even pats Jungkook’s shoulder as he laughs and Jungkook’s tongue is pushing against his cheek, an angry tick of his.

“Ah, it’s all good,” Jaebum now replies with a smile that you can only describe as sleazy. “We’re all friends here, __ knows that. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”

“Yeah, buddy. Run along now, kid,” another man adds.

It happens all at once. Jaebum is once again leaning across the counter in an attempt to get close to you, while one of his friends reaches for Jungkook’s back in an attempt to lead him away from their group. That’s when Jungkook feels it serves right to touch at least one of them, and he chooses the closest target - the one with a hand on his back. Within seconds, Jungkook is stood behind the guy and he’s yelping out in pain as Jungkook twists his arm into position between his shoulder blades.

A fuss was starting to happen and you and Hoseok watched, a couple of bystanders watching as well. Jungkook’s stare pointed towards Jaebum.

“I suggest you leave here or I’ll escort you out myself, sir,” he says, and when Jaebum hesitates only for a second, Jungkook tightens his hold on the guy’s arm and twists it further and the guy grunts out a curse.

“Jesus fuck man, let’s just leave,” one of his other friends groans out, seemingly bored with all the action. “’s not like she’s worth it that much anyways.”

You hear that, and you know Jungkook does because the man he holds groans out in pain before he shoves him towards the door before turning to the rest with an expectant look. After all, Jin did give him permission to kick out anyone who he felt was gonna start up any fuss. Jin wasn’t all that about keep the loaded ones happy and keep your mouth shut type of policy; the place was already doing pretty well on its own, Jin would constantly assure as Yoongi would in turn assure him.

The group is kicked out and everything is back to normal. Hoseok is taking orders, crowd dispersing, drinks are being served and no one is so much as looking your way. All except for one person.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He’s leaning over the counter and speaking loudly so that you can hear him clearly. Despite this occurring many times in your line of work, and despite you constantly assuring yourself that you were used to it, you knew that you were lying to yourself and that there was always this small fear inside of you at the fact that it could happen again, and it left you a bit shaken up every time.

“Yeah,” you quickly nod in reply and shoot him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” He insists. There’s a look in his eyes. This was his job after all, though you didn’t expect him to be this concerned for your safety. You thought it was just about the general atmosphere and keeping assholes under control. But the way he was looking at you right now told you differently, large doe eyes watching you expectantly for any sign that you’re not feeling well.

Your heart stutters and you gulp.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

He only nods at you with a smile and slips away, between the crowd and back at his post where he stands against the wall as before. You continue to look, even as he catches you staring and holds your gaze for a second before shooting you a small smile. You barely catch it, dim lighting and all, but it’s the first of many that you receive from him.

That night, Jungkook stalls. He keeps stalling and stalling, waiting until he knows no one is left but you and Hoseok. He knows that the two of you are usually the last to leave for the night and he’s in the locker room getting his bag, waiting for the right moment just to make sure and feel at ease for the night. 

You and Hoseok are together, he thinks. With the way he’s so incredibly affectionate with you, constantly touching you and hugging you, so playful and comfortable with you. And then tonight, when he saw you two together in the hallway. Sure, you were just hugging, but it could imply that you two might have something going on. 

But what irked Jungkook the most was that Hoseok had made no move to intervene tonight with everything that was happening. Sure, Jungkook had it all under control, and sure it was technically Jungkook’s job to deal with it, but still. He couldn’t imagine himself being on the other side of the bar, standing there with you, and not jumping into action the second you almost dropped one of the drinks because of how uncomfortable you felt with those guys harassing you. You were always so composed, steady hands mixing drinks and handling glasses like they were mere feathers between your fingertips, but it only got slipper and messy when your head wasn’t in the right place. And Jungkook knew that because he watched.

Attentive, he was.

So yes, he waited and waited, and when he walked back out to see you all alone, ready to head back and get your things to call it a night, he’s relieved he stayed back because god - he doesn’t want you going back home alone this late at night. And he knows you don’t go by car because he always sees you walking in, so it’s either the bus or a lonely walk him, and his heart didn’t sit right with either of those.

“Oh, hey,” you greet him when you cross paths. You weren’t expecting him to still be here. Hoseok had long departed and you were behind the bar, cleaning up by yourself for the first time for the rest of the week. “I didn’t know anyone was still here.”

“Yeah, uh,” he stumbles for a moment. “Still here.” He doesn’t bother explaining, his mind can’t seem to conjure up any lies this late at night.

The place is quiet, such a contrast to how it usually is. No music, no drunker chatter, no glasses clinking - the silence was nice and despite the usual party atmosphere this place held, the silence somehow morphed it into a cozy one. Similar to Jungkook now stood in front of you, a complete and polar opposite to the sight you had witnessed merely hours ago. Long gone was the stoic stare and the harsh eyes, replaced with an innocent gaze and the hint of a smile as he stuck his hands in the pocket of his jacket. How he managed to switch and maintain both personas was beyond you.

“Are you going home alone?” He asks after a beat of silence, only realizing that that might have sounded just slightly wrong after he said it. “I mean, it’s really late…” He trails off while explaining, looking at you expectantly.

This is a first for you. It’s the first time that you’re chatting privately with Jungkook, absolutely no one around with nothing to distract you from your usual thoughts.

Tonight really did nothing to help with those thoughts, on the contrary, it only heightened them to the highest of extents. You already knew you were attracted to Jungkook, any person with a pair of eyes could see why that was apparent. But the way he acted tonight, the way he looked into your eyes, as if searching for any sign of discomfort, as if willing to do anything to erase those signs. The way he kept looking over at you, checking, sending smiles your way, somehow reassuring you of his presence - that he was there and that there was nothing to worry about.

And now, standing in front of you with that same look. Concern, worry, he wants your safety. He stayed behind to make sure of that. And that does things to your heart, and to your stomach because in the next second, you feel it flood to the hilt with colorful butterflies. It’s almost nauseating how you feel yourself simultaneously slowly and quickly gravitating towards him, towards the safety and warm that he seems to radiate just by standing there.

You snap out of it.

“Yeah,” you confirm. Your voice is low though, so you clear your throat and look up at him with an assuring smile and try again. “Yeah. I usually leave right on time for the last bus but since I’m closing up tonight, I’m gonna have to walk.”

“I can drive you, if you’d like?” He wastes no time to offer.

“No, really, it’s okay,” you wave it off with a nervous chuckle. “I walk home all the time, it’s no-”

“No, please,” he insists. “I can’t have you walking back home this late at night.”

It didn’t really take much more convincing than that, not like you could’ve argued at all when you could practically feel yourself melting at this short interaction that was taking place, an interaction that you had kinda been hoping for to happen and just now realized how much you wanted it to take place.

So he drives you home and the ride was quiet, not too awkward, but there wasn’t much talking anyways. He resorts to the next best thing and turns on some music to fix it, which you gladly appreciate because you relax into the passenger seat and allow yourself to enjoy the soft tunes after a long night of intense, blaring music that was drilled into your ears.

That was the first night of the week, and you expected it to be the last. However, you are oh so pleasantly surprised when the next day, Jungkook passes by you and Seulgi and greets you with more enthusiasm than usual, as opposed to the small head nod and shy smile he would usually direct towards the both of you.

“Hey, __.”

To which you shyly reply and turn to your friend with a slow puff of air that has her snickering at you.

That night he shows up in front of you the same way he did the night before, not really bothering to try and come up with an excuse as to why he was still here so late for the second time in a row. You’re wiping down the counter when you notice him standing there, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, still here?” You ask once again.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. The thud of his boots is distinct in all the quiet as he steps closer to where you stand. “Are you nearly done?”

The way he asks it sends a shiver down your spine because he spoke it so casually, as if waiting for you to finish up so he can take you home was something he normally did. But you keep your back to him in hopes of him not witnessing your cheeks warming up and bite down a smile.

“Yeah, just a couple of minutes so I can grab my things.”

He waits for you near his car, where he usually parks, leaning against the door with a coy smile on his lips. His heart is racing and he stares at the entrance door excitedly, waiting for your figure to show up. Though something in the back of his mind plagues his thoughts since last night and he really couldn’t wait to figure it out. And when he finally figures out how to ask the question, he blurts it out.

“So, um, do you and Hoseok not usually leave together?”

His question is strange. It’s worded strangely and it’s very much out of nowhere. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“No, not really,” you answer slowly but surely, voice clear over the low hum of the engine. There still wasn’t any music in the car seeing as how you’d just taken off. “I usually leave much earlier than him, but he has this thing this week, so I’m kind of in charge of staying last.” 

You glance quickly at him. His brows are furrowed and his lips are slightly pursed. You don’t know what exactly he’s trying to analyze about your answer-

“I just assumed he would wait for you to finish,” he spoke his words slowly. “You know, so you could leave together.”

You turn to him with a baffled expression, still not comprehending why he would come to that analysis in the first place.

“You know,” he pauses to clear his throat. His grip tightens on the steering wheel. The car slows down as he takes a left turn. “Since you two are, um, together and all…”

His voice gets slightly lower towards the end of the sentence and you catch his eyes flicker over to your side of the car for a quick second to check for your reaction before they once again fixate on the road. His words finally register in your head and realization dawns on your and a million thoughts race through your head.

“Oh,” you let out a sound of understanding before your eyes widen and you’re hastily shaking your head. “Oh, no. No no,” you chuckle nervously. You don’t comprehend how many times you repeat the word no before you finally pause. “We’re not together. Hobi and I are just friends. We’re very close and all that, but there’s nothing like that. At all.”

You can’t help yourself from stressing over that fact, wanting to make it very clear that there was nothing between you and Hoseok. When you sneak a peak towards him, you can the see obvious traces of a smile threatening to break out but he’s biting at his inner cheeks and his lips to hide it, tattooed fingers now drumming against the steering wheel in what looks to you as a happy manner.

“Oh, okay,” he confirms with a nod of his head. “Cool. That’s good.”

He doesn’t realize he added that last part, it just slipped out. God, it felt like he could throw himself out of the car at that exact second if it weren’t for the sound of your shy giggle reaching his ears and elating his entire being. That’s when he allows himself to properly smile and chuckle himself before reaching over and turning on some music, the rest of the ride spent in comfortable silence for that night.

The following day Jungkook comes up to you before your shift and leans against the wall as he casually chats you up, something that hadn’t happened since he first started working here about a month ago. But you indulge him and try not to focus too much on how he seems to drift closer, standing closer to you, looming over your space. His eyes twinkle even in the dim lighting around you. You notice all his details. His smile was to die for. Eyes crinkling up, cheeks forming into a round shape that almost completely erased the usual defined shape of his face, always so sharp and clean cut. 

Later that night you find out what his laugh sounds like in the warmth of his car on the ride home, right after you tell him about that one time Hoseok had been teasing you all night about some old guy that never once parted from the bar, Hoseok designating him by the name of your ‘sugar daddy’. Until it was revealed later that night through a white napkin that was left behind by the man himself, a series of numbers scribbled on it, for the ‘cute boy who serves the best drinks in town ;)’.

He laughed loudly and you immediately took the chance to look, his nose scrunching up and his head thrown back, thankfully at a stop sign. It sounds to boisterous, like music to your ears, making you feel at complete ease as your lips curl up into a smile as well.

You once again mentally compare the image of him in the dim lighting of the bar; chest puffed out, arms crossed, scowl plastered on his face. Tattoos inked into his knuckles and forearms. Long earrings dangling from his ears. Everything suited him so well, with the way his long hair cascaded down his eyes and completed that strong and mysterious vibe he carried with him when he was so focused on doing his job right, not letting his guard down unless your eyes met his. That’s when he would falter for a mere second and he would send a tiny smile your way that had you blushing and turning the other way in a haste.

But the guy sat next to you in his car right now, laughing childishly and humming along to a song he had picked out, was so different. But you liked both sides. 

You liked both sides a lot.

+

You call Jin one morning with a sore throat, coughing and sneezing, unable to speak a few proper words without feeling like the scratch in your throat would bring you to your death. You inform him that you won’t be able to come in and he assures you that it’s fine and tells you to rest well, drink lots of water and lots of warm tea.

That night, up in your bed, unable to sleep because you can never usually sleep when you get sick, your phone vibrates and the sound of a text arriving brings you to tear your eyes away from your laptop. You’d decided you might as well re-watch the first season of Supernatural.

From: Unknown hey, it’s jungkook :) hope you don’t mind me getting your number from hoseok  [2:13 am]

You spring up from your lying position, and despite the pain and body ache that takes over, a familiar feeling of butterflies once again swarms your tummy and it’s the first nice feeling that you’ve experiences all day/

From: Jungkook ik it’s late and you’re probably asleep but i hope you’re taking care of yourself  [2:13 am]

You nibble on your bottom lip before deciding: to hell with dignity. You open the message only a few seconds later. He was typing, but the three bubbles disappear and you assume it’s because he saw that you had just opened his text when he wasn’t expecting for you to do that so late.

To: Jungkook hi jungkook, thanks for checking up on me :) just a bit tired is all [2:15 am]

From: Jungkook you’re still up ?? are you not feeling well?? [2:15 am]

The text comes nearly seconds after you send yours and you can’t help the smile the takes over your face. You feel stupid smiling at your phone like this but god he’s so sweet it’s killing you.

To: Jungkook a bit restless yeah..it’s okay. couldn’t buy medicine today so i’ll get some tomorrow and that’ll help me sleep a bit [2:!5 am]

This time he reads your message and waits. You stare at your phone, confused as you watch bubbles disappear and reappear on your phone screen. It’s exactly two minutes before you finally receive one.

From: Jungkook i can drop some off tomorrow at your place [2:17 am]

From: Jungkook if you’re comfortable with that [2:17 am]

From: Jungkook i can leave it at your door and you can just take it when you want [2:17 am]

You’re staring at your phone, shell-shocked, unable to fathom the words that you were reading. They came one after the other, and you could almost imagine him stuttering and spitting out phrases to make you more comfortable with the idea, like he did that first night when he offered to drive you home.

You take a deep breath and type out your response.

To: Jungkook you’d do that? [2:18 am]

His reply is immediate.

From: Jungkook of course [2:18 am]

The following morning, there’s a bag at your doorstep. Medicine, and several tupperwares filled with food. Your heart is melting, your head feels light with all the emotions you’re experiencing as you bring the bag inside, taking notice of a note that’s placed inside the bag.

these are jin-hyung’s recipe so i think they should be good if i followed all the steps right. enjoy and feel better :)

His handwriting suits him, you think. It’s cute.

+

The next time you see Jungkook, you surprise him, yourself, and Hoseok who happens to be a witness of the hug you envelope him in. It took a lot of pep-talk on your way here, but you managed to psyche yourself up just enough for you to actually go through with it. And, even more surprisingly, he’s only shocked for a moment before he willingly accepts your hug.

“Thanks for the medicine, Jungkook,” you pull away. You’re aware your face is extremely pink and that your voice is slightly shaky and you’re almost one hundred percent sure he could see your heart pumping through your chest, but you don’t really care because his cheeks are pink as well. “And for the food.”

“It was nothing,” he brushes it off with a timid chuckle as you step back and glance at Hoseok who’s trying very hard not to leave his jaw hanging on the floor. “You feel better now though, right?” He makes sure, in the same tone that now sounds familiar to you, laced with slight worry.

“Much,” you nod your head with a smile and his grin is back, bright as ever, full teeth on show.

“That’s all that matters then.”

+

You’re not responsible for closing up anymore and Hoseok shared his mixtape with you the day that it was finished.

Though you were free to leave earlier once again and could easily catch the bus back home, supposedly going back to your old routine, you step out and are caught by surprise when Jungkook is stood there, leaning on the wall adjacent to the entrance. 

He practically beams at you the moment he sees you and pushes himself off the wall as he shuffles over to you, boots scuffing over the pavement. He practically struts over and he looks like a god damn model with the way the wind ruffles his hair back, tight black turtleneck hugging his figure cozily but hidden due to the large jacket he had thrown on.

“You know I can just take the bus home again, right?” You tease with a smile but you begin to walk beside him nonetheless, making your way to his car. He nudges you with his elbow as you walk and look ahead.

“Just appreciate what I do for you,” he retorts.

The level of comfort and ease in which you both now chat and joke together has magnified over these past weeks, and you find yourself giggling shyly as he opens the passenger door for you to climb in. 

The ride is spent chatting as usual, you and Jungkook exchanging stories about drunkards and incidents occurring throughout the night. He wins tonight’s round with his story about the couple who kept trying to hit on this one guy, assuming they were trying to convince him to go home with them, until the guy’s girlfriend showed up and cursed the two out. You can’t imagine how he could’ve managed to keep a straight face with all of that unfolding in front of him.

You thank him for the ride, bid him farewell and he watches as you make your way up your apartment building, both of you smiling like idiots. Jungkook takes a second to collect himself, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel with a slow exhale of his breath before restarting the engine and driving away.

+

A week later. A full week of late nights driving you home, texting almost everyday, exchanging brief yet playful conversations at work, you practically feel like a schoolgirl. A schoolgirl who gets to see her cute crush almost everyday. You feel giddy and happy. You’re more active at work and you serve with a smile because you somehow always seem to eventually direct it towards the tall security guard who’s standing relatively near, eyes flickering towards you to throw you a quick wink that has Hoseok wiggling his eyebrows at you without Jungkook noticing.

One late night he parks his car by your apartment building and shuts off the engine, leaning back in his seat and looking at you. You unbuckle your seat belt but remain seated, not making any move to step out of the car just yet.

His fingers, as they usually do, are drumming against the steering wheel, and for a few seconds, that’s the only sound that resonates within the silence.

“So,” he begins. He starts a lot of sentences like that, you notice, but keep that to yourself and just stare at him expectantly. “Tomorrow’s off for you, right?”

“Yes,” you sigh in relief at the thought of not having to deal with people yelling different names of drinks your way. “Thank god for that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles in agreement. He looks at you for a second and when he sees you looking he looks to the front once again, pursing his lips. “Anything planned?”

“Not really,” you answer with a shrug and continue to look at because you can sense where he was trying to go with this.

“Great, that’s…” He trails off. He huffs, annoyed with himself before he turns to you with pretty, charming eyes and a look that had you shifting in your seat with its intensity. “I can take the day off, too.”

It’s a statement but it sounded like a question all at the same time.

“And-” One hand leaves the steering wheel to ruffle his hair, pushing some strands back and behind his ear. “We can do something. Together.”

“Like-”

“Like a date,” he continues before you could say it, smiling hopefully at you, hoping that he never read any signs wrong. But he didn’t. He couldn’t have because you beam at him in the next second and he grins back, nose scrunch and all.

“I’d love that, Guk.”

Wow, that was the first time you called him anything but his full name and the shorter term never sounded better to his ears. You look so pretty to him. All cooped up in his car, smiling at him so sweetly and fingers twiddling shyly on your lap, eyes awaiting for his next words. You just look so sweet, so innocent in that moment, so captivating that he can’t help but just lean forward across the console and-

“Shit-” Just as he witnesses your eyes beginning to flutter shut once you realize what his intentions were, almost there, so close he was beginning to taste it, he felt himself being tugged back.

Of course he didn’t take his fucking seat-belt off.

A moment of silence is heard before you both start laughing hysterically at the ridiculous situation.

After you two are done, you maneuver freely and lean over to his side since you had bothered to take your seat-belt off and place a kiss right on the corner of his mouth, just shy from it being an actual kiss. Your allow your lips to linger for a second before pulling away, and you could swear he leaned forward just a bit as you did.

“Text me and we’ll pick a time for tomorrow, yeah?” You suggest as you open the passenger seat door. He licks his lips, having been so willing to kiss you at this moment, but he smiles and nods.

“Goodnight, __.”

+

He looks breathtaking to say the least and you more than appreciate the idea of witnessing him under the sunlight for the first time in months. He’s wearing an over-sized grey sweater, loose black jeans and the signature boots. He looks like a god, leaning back on his hands on the plaid blanket he’d packed with him. 

He nearly loses his breath when he first sees you. God, he knew you were gorgeous but the way you walked over to his car with an almost angelic smile gracing your features - how was he supposed to just not kiss you the second you were in his care? You usually wore jeans to work, but this. Where you trying to torture him? A skirt? 

He takes you on a picnic because, as he claims, I don’t think we’ve ever seen each other in proper sunlight before and I’ve been here for what - two or three months?

He and Jin go way back, he tells you after you find out that the meals and sandwiches he’d prepared had also been advised by Jin. He tells you that he was a family friend and that their parents knew each other very well. Jungkook’s parents didn’t live here, they lived abroad, and Jin’s parents were always after Jin to keep an eye on Jungkook and look after him.

And look after him he did. He introduced him to most his friends; Taehyung, Jimin and even Yoongi. He recommended him for a job at Taehyung’s tattoo shop since Jungkook was such a talented artist and he was responsible for the many designs displayed in Taehyung’s shop. He helped him find a place cheap and comfortable enough to live in. He’s encouraging him to let Taehyung teach him how to tattoo so he can make more money and maybe open up a place on his own. And he recommended him to Yoongi when they were talking about needing someone new around, highly praising him in front of his friend even though Yoongi already knew Jungkook personally.

He told you about it all and you listened carefully, taking it all in, watching the way he fiddled with the dangly piece of jewelry hanging from his ear as he spoke about all his friends, all of them older than him and how they shaped him into the man he is today. His experiences with them. Everything.

“Sorry,” he chuckles bashfully as he picks up a cherry and pops it into his mouth. He looks at you. “I was talking too much.”

“What? No,” you insist. You unconsciously shift closer to him on the blanket and your hand lands on the blanket right next to his as you lean on your side slightly. “I like listening.”

“I’m not much of a talker with new people,” he explains while looking at you. “I haven’t talked to anyone like this in a long time, actually,” he continues. He says that as soon as you feel a hand covering your own, fingers fiddling with yours.

You both look down at your hands and you feel your heart do flips when you flip your palm up beneath his and he intertwines your fingers with his.

“That was really cute,” you blurt out for some reason. Your cheeks are incredibly warm and pink, and so are the tips of your ears, but you can at least blame it on the sun this time, though you doubt that’s how he would analyze it.

You giggle, he chuckles. You both shift closer and closer until his nose is grazing yours. He tilts his head forward just a little and you can feel his lips graze yours. Your thoughts are clouded as you feel his warm breath hitting your face. His eyes are still open, albeit half-lidded, and he holds eye contact so intense it’s almost too much for you to handle. You gulp heavily.

“Guk.”

It’s the way you whisper his name that finally brings him to cover your lips with his, mouth gently coaxing yours to move along with his. He kisses you sensually, something you don’t expect from your first kiss, you expect him to be more careful and reserved, but you’re not complaining as he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and lifts a hand to your hair.

He kisses your breath away, mouth moving in a perfect pace, lips pecking yours gently several times before diving in for a deep kiss once again. His nose nudges yours, warmth washing over you as his fingers grip your hair very gently to bring you closer.

You hum in between kisses and he can’t help it. He can’t help but push closer. Your lips tasted heavenly, so sweet, so delicious, so addicting. He wanted more. He licks your lips and you willingly let him in. Tongue licking into your mouth, he increases pressure until you begin to lean back further and further until you’re lying flat against the blanket. Your lips part for a few seconds and Jungkook looks down at you, watches you breathe slightly heavily, hair splayed out beneath you, lips swollen with his kiss. He has half a mind to quickly check your surroundings, thankful that he’d picked a secluded spot behind a large tree, before he plants his mouth on yours once again.

He doesn’t put his weight on top of you and instead leans on one elbow placed strategically near your head, caging you in, leaning over you as he steals endless kisses from your already breathless mouth. His hand, inked with black tattoos, trails down your arm, fingertips subtly brushing over your skin and bringing goosebumps to its surface. It travels down until he reaches your hand that he takes in his larger one, bringing it up to pin it down next to your head, fingers intertwining with yours once again.

You hum into the kiss once again, basking in the way he feels around you. Almost completely covering you with his body, presence looming over yours and hiding you from the world. It feels nice and comforting and hot and sexy all at once. Your other hand itches to move, free from confinement, and you bring it up to his chest, solid yet pliant. Your fingers curl into a grip and you pull him closer to kiss you harder. God, you’ve never felt so much from just a single kiss.

“Mmm-__-” he mumbles in between heavy kisses. His usually mellow voice is deeper now, laced with desire that you’re just now witnessing for the first time. “Mhmph-baby…” He mutters for the second time, unable to hold himself back from biting into your pouty bottom lip when he felt your hand grip his hair for the first time.

The sound of kids, not too close yet not too far away suddenly brings you to your senses as your lips begin to slow down their pace, little by little until his mouth is barely just resting over yours, warm breaths continuing to mix together.

Your eyes peel open to find his already staring at you, studying your face up close for a couple of seconds. Your fingers absentmindedly twirl strands of hair around and around, his thumb strokes your hand that he still grips firmly before you both break out into smiles at how this had transpired. He tenderly pecks your lips twice before sitting up slightly, and you follow along, looking around to see if there was anyone too close nearby, relieved to see only three kids significantly far away from your spot.

You talk more. This time he listens while you speak. You spill all your details from dropping out of college because of too much pressure, too many past-due tuition fees, and not enough control over your life. He listens carefully all the while he appreciates your presence near him for the first time. He scoots closer as you talk about how hard that last year was for you, scoops your hand into his larger one as you rant about how Hoseok had been incredibly supportive in all the time you’ve known him. He plays with your hair and gently leans forward to kiss the top of your head when you tell him about not having a place to stay for a while, and Hoseok had so kindly offered his place for you. You talk and talk and he listens just as you did for him, getting gradually closer to you until he had you wrapped up in his arms once again, lying on the blanket and chatting quietly amongst yourselves, in your own little world.

+

Hoseok immediately takes notice because you just happen to be stepping out of Jungkook’s car for work after he had offered that he would drive you. As soon as he sees the two of you, his eyes light up as he saunters over with a bright smile.

“Ah, Jungkookie,” he nudges you and you only blush and roll your eyes at him, looking to Jungkook who chuckles but you can see the pink tint to his cheeks.

“Taking care of our princess is something you take very seriously, huh? I can see that,” Hoseok teases and you push him away with a groan as you practically stomp your way inside, only hearing Hoseok’s loud laugh echoing behind you.

+

The next date he takes you on is a week later and he simply takes you to dinner. You’re happy because after last time, sitting together and just talking, you were looking forward to be with him more. Alone.

He shocks you that night when he actually wears a black button up instead of his usual casual attire. He looked fucking hot. Sleeves rolled up, tattoos on show, hair actually combed back; your knees nearly buckled beneath you when you saw him leaning against his car as he waited for you to come down. He looked like the man of your dreams as he flashed you the biggest grin and opened the passenger door for you, but not before leaning down and planting a kiss on your cheek. 

He looked tall and big, bigger than usual for some reason, or maybe that was just because of the way he had you pressed up against the side of his car after parking by your apartment building after your date. Dinner went smoothly, as you expected. And you knew it would end with a goodnight kiss with the way he kept looking at your lips, stained pink with your favorite lipstick that had now made its way over to his lips that were just as pink and shiny as yours now.

“I really like kissing you,” he murmurs against your lips, repeatedly placing kiss after kiss to your breathless lips. You grab onto his broad shoulders, so large and wide they shielded you from the world behind him, from everything around you.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers before licking into your mouth and you hum, pleased with his deep, addictive kisses.

You part ways with flushed faces and dumb smiles, hair just slightly ruffled and messy from your embrace.

+

The next few dates feel like heaven. Being with him, near him, talking to him, it all added something to your life that you never aware you wanted. You never had a constant in your life, someone like this. Someone who would sigh over the phone and ask you why you’re still up so late but continue to entertain you nonetheless despite the scolding. Someone who reaches in the backseat and places a bag in your lap and tells you with a bashful tone that he had gotten you something, and that something turns out to pretty blue key chain in the shape of a cat because you had mentioned one time over the phone how you kept losing your keys and that having one would make them more noticeable. Someone who begins keeping an extra jacket or sweater in his car for you because the weather was getting colder and you haven’t begun wearing jackets yet so he had to do it himself. Someone who brought his charger with him to work because you always forgot to charge your phone and would complain about it on the way home. Someone who took care of you and tended to your needs so carefully.

+

It’s about a month later and everything was going perfect. He was perfect. You’ve never felt so comfortable, in sync, or safe with anyone before. Countless days and nights of talking on the phone, texting, drives home that some nights turned into later dinners at a nearby 24 hour diner, cute dates that your highschool self would gush and blush about.

It’s a slow night, not much going on. Hoseok was handling most of the drinks tonight though since you could feel a light headache forming and it was beginning to annoy you.

In walked Im Jaebum after months of not stepping foot in here back when Jungkook kicked him and his friends out. Your eyes immediately snap to Jungkook because you know he’s got his eyes on him already, and you’re right when you see his eyes follow Jaebum’s every move and step as he gets closer to the bar. He’s alone tonight, walking slowly but surely towards the bar stool at your end of the bar and plopping down without a word. His usual greasy smile isn’t there, his face is grim and quiet, but you figure that that’s a good thing and you walk over to get his order, and that’s all you get. No wink, no trashy compliment, and you feel slightly relieved at that.

Unfortunately, a small fight between two drunk guys broke out because - yes, you guessed it - one guy was flirting with the other’s girlfriend. Your headache got worse with all the loud music and the shouting and you walked over to Hoseok.

“Do you have some painkillers with you in the back?” You ask in his ear, and he’s quick to nod, looking at you with a worried expression, and you gesture to your head with a wince.

“They’re in the front pocket of my bag. Take some and get some air, I can handle it for a bit,” he ushers you away after you give him a grateful smile.

Jungkook enters once again after taking care of the two guys’ problem, eyes unconsciously seeking yours just because it was practically second nature for him by now. He’s staring at the bar, confused because for the first time, you’re not there, serving drinks with a smile. It’s only Hoseok up there and he scratches his head, pondering on where you would be right now.

Well, you had gone out back for a quick breather after taking some painkillers from where Hoseok had them stashed, enjoying the chilly night air in the ally that one of the backdoors led to. Just as you were about to push off the wall and make your way back inside because it didn’t sit right with you to sit out here while Hoseok did all the work, even though you knew he wouldn’t even mind you heading home right now, the door swings open and out he walks, eyes landing on your figure as if he knew you would be here.

“__,” he says, and the greasy smirk that you had been previously been so glad was nowhere to be seen on his face tonight, had once again made its presence known and you couldn’t be less pleased with that fact.

“What are you doing here?” You immediately question. “This door is for employees only-”

“Why do you think I’m here, __?” He asks as he steps closer and you immediately take a larger step back. This isn’t right. This is making your stomach feel queasy and you really want to leave right this second.

“I don’t know and I don’t wanna know,” you deadpan with a stern tone. “Now, excuse me, I have to go back to work-”

“Wait,” he stretches an arm out and steps sideways before you could reach the door and you immediately back away from him. “You know why I’m here, __. Come on, can we stop playing games?”

“Excuse me?” You ask in a genuinely confused tone. Games? What games? This man doesn’t even know you. Does he really think you’re playing games with him?

“You think I come to this shit place because I just like it here?” He steps closer and you once again step back, looking at the door behind him, mentally planning how you’re about to push him out of the way and make your way back inside. “You I would come here if it weren’t for the hot bartender who’s trying to play hard to get with me?”

“God, you’re such a piece of shit-” 

You’re just about to push him and maybe knee him in the dick before the door behind the two of you to reveal a - a seething Jungkook.

If it weren’t for the fight that had broken out just prior to you leaving, Jungkook would’ve seen Jaebum watch you walk away and get up a couple of minutes later and you wouldn’t have had to exchange a single word with him, but it just so happened that he had been distracted. However, it only took him a couple of minutes to finally notice that the man he’d previously been watching the most the entire night wasn’t in the place he was seated at, and he couldn’t have moved faster as he began his search for you. With each passing second, his breath got heavier, his hands clenched into rock hard fists as if ready to punch the man any second now. He was practically seeing red by the time he reached the back door, his last resort.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Jaebum is practically lifted off the ground when Jungkook grabs him by his clothes and pushes him back. You watch, eyes wide, as the usually shy and relaxed guy who blushed everytime Hoseok teased him about him just getting this job to stare at you all night, who was mentally psyching himself up before asking you out for the first time that one night, who twirled strands of your hair around his finger oh so delicately when you would at times stay a couple of minutes in his car to chat, that same guy was growling at the man who appeared to be smaller than him with the way Jungkook was crowding into his space.

For some odd reason, any previous thoughts of Jaebum were completely erased from your mind, wiped out. And all you could think about was your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who you absolutely adored, who was now on the verge of beating up this prick for you, and who looked fucking hot while doing it.

“Do you just go around harassing women? Is that how you waste your worthless time?” Jungkook shakes him as he practically yells those words at him before pushing him aggressively into the cold wall behind him. He stumbles and catches himself before falling.

You’re silent before you look at Jungkook and he looks back at you, fire inside his eyes more tame now as he tries to detect any damage that was done even though he got here before Jaebum could even consider getting close to you. He steps towards you and cups your face, about to say something before he gets interrupted.

“Fuck you, man. And fuck her. I don’t want a stuck up bitch like that anyways-”

Jungkook’s eyes flash at the first word that meets his ears, jaw ticking, brows furrowed in annoyance because clearly just shaking him up a little bit wasn’t enough, and before he could utter another word, Jungkook lands a solid punch to his cheeks that shuts him right up. You gasp in surprise.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Jungkook spits at him. “If I ever see you around here, or around her ever again, I’ll knock your teeth out.”

You reach for his hand and pull him towards the door, and he keeps looking at the guy who’s stumbling away into the alley until the door is finally closed and his eyes travel to you.

“He didn’t touch you, did he? You’re okay? If he did I swear I’ll go back out there and-”

“I’m fine,” you assure and cup his faced between your palms to calm him down. You bring his face close to yours and lock eyes with him. His breathing is a bit heavy and his fists are still clenched, so you release his face in favor of holding them in your smaller ones, unfurling the tight grip and intertwining your fingers with his. Visibly relaxing at being so close to you, he sighs heavily and leans forward a bit more to nudge your nose with his.

“I’m fine,” you repeat once again, voice lower. “And I’m glad you’re here.”

The way you say it, it could be perceived in referring both to the current situation, and just having him here in general. And he knows that.

“I’ll always be here,” he murmurs and can’t help but press a kiss to your lips, one that, for some reason tonight, immediately ignites a fiery fire of need inside you. You don’t know why, it could be because you’ve been wanting this since the first time you tasted his lips, it could be the fact that he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes one, or it could be because your boyfriend was the sweetest man and he treated you with so much care that your body ached for more of his attention; a different kind of care and attention.

+

It was almost closing time anyway, you think to yourself as you climbed across the console and situated yourself to straddle him the second he shut off the engine, a position you’d been in before. 

You’ll explain to Hoseok later, you think to yourself, fingers digging into his hair as he kissed down your neck and collarbones, large palms running up and down your back. 

Hoseok will definitely understand the situation, you think to yourself as your head falls back and your eyes flutter shut when he begins to suck and nibble on the column of your neck, mouthing at your throat and covering your skin in heated kisses as his strong arms wrapped around your torso and pressed your smaller frame up against his large one.

“Guk,” you whisper, dazed and breathy. He hums against your skin. Your hips push down, something you very rarely go as far as to do, but you can’t stop yourself. You want this. You want him so bad. He groans into your neck.

“Stop, stop,” you mumble, pushing weakly at his chest, to which he immediately complies. Lips parted, hair ruffled and falling over his eyes in the sexiest way, he looks up at you.

“Do you wanna come upstairs?”

Your apartment is dark but you don’t care enough to turn on any lights as you stumble in, lips locked and bodies intertwined. He pushes you up against the nearest wall, pressing his body up against yours, trapping you against him as he pulls away for a second.

“Where’s your bedroom, baby?” He asks but he’s already once again distracted with planting hot kisses down your neck, hands moving down your body, rough hands gaining confidence as you push closer to him and respond to his subtle touches.

“Down the hall,” you gasp when he bites into your skin. “Door on the left.”

You reach there in record time before he finally loses patience and grips your thighs at the door, signaling you to hold onto him. Muscles tensing, he lifts you up and carries you the rest of the way all the while you feel yourself getting warm at his show of strength.

He places you down on the mattress gently before he slips of his jacket and throws it away somewhere, not bothering to aim where it lands because his eyes are fixated on the way you scoot back on the bed and await for him to join you. And join you, he does, climbing up the bed and over your body, eyes dark and strands of hair cascading down his face, a hungry expression written all over his face. 

He doesn’t kiss you. His arms, you can see them bulging through your peripheral vision, hold him up above you as he stares down at the way you’re sprawled out beneath him. Your shirt is riding up slightly, some bare skin revealed to his dark eyes. Your chest moves up and down with each deep breath you take in.Your dainty hands are fiddling with the hem of his shirt, eyes blinking up at him as you anxiously await his next move.

“Pretty,” he comments and brings one hand to brush back some hair before burying his hand in your hair and gripping firmly to expose your neck to him. You gasp out, enjoying the pressure you feel in your skull and he takes notice, chuckling lowly before kissing down your neck and collarbones.

“I wanna make you feel good, baby,” he groans into your skin. One of his hands goes down to your hip and bunches the shirt up in his palm, and the skin burns in the best way where he brushes against you. His knees gently nudge your legs apart to settle further between your thighs and you willingly allow him more room, hands reaching for his back and scrunching up the material between your fingers.

“Wanna make you moan,” he whispers. Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers gingerly push your shirt further and further up until it reached just below your breasts. The tips of his fingers brush against the bottom of your bra and your arch your back, craving more than the gentle touches he’s currently giving you. He gets the hint and lifts the shirt up until your bra clad breasts are exposed to him and he continues kissing down your collarbone to litter your kisses to the newly exposed skin.

“Yes,” you gasp, giving him the okay.

“Make you scream,” he continues. With a slip of his finger, he brings one of the cups down and takes your nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with attention and running his tongue over it until it hardened completely.

“Yes, Guk,” you whimper. The hand still placed in your hair seems to tighten at the sound of his name.

“Even the sounds you make are pretty,” he chuckles against your breast, hot breath hitting your skin with every word. You flush at his compliments, but you don’t have much time to be shy about it before he pulls away from you to sit up on his knees between your legs. Large palms stroke your thighs, warming them up with his touch. He looks into your eyes as he does this, mouth curled up at one side, the most devilish smile as he reaches for the hem of your pants and fiddles with the button there.

“You sure about this, baby?” He asks, eyes trailing up and down your body hungrily, biting his lip. The sight has you even more excited. “I can be a bit…intense.”

Your core heats at the implications of what that could mean and god you wanna find out. You find yourself nodding eagerly, hips lifting a bit to show your approval.

“I am,” you assure.

Before you knew it, your pants were being tugged off your legs as you sat back against the pillows, legs spread for him. Panties still on, you placed a hand on his when he made a move to remove them as well causing him to look up at you.

“Can you take your shirt off?” You ask a bit shyly, to which he chuckles and shakes his head at you.

You never thought someone could look so sexy taking their shirt off, but the second he reached for his back to tug it off, you knew you were done for. The material slid off so smoothly and effortlessly, caressing the golden skin that was being exposed inch by inch, looking so soft and warm to the touch. It ruffled his hair and got it all messy when it reached his head, before it was completely off and he threw it away. The muscles in his torso rippled with every move he made, sculpted so beautifully you were mesmerized with every little dip and bump his torso had. What caught your eye the most were the several tattoos inked across his right arm and shoulder.

He was absolutely gorgeous.

You took him all in and couldn’t help but reach to touch him, and he leans forward to allow your fingertips to glide across his chest and up his shoulders, while his hands get busy lifting up your own shirt that was still half way up.

You let him take your shirt off in a daze, still entranced with his body because he just seemed so…large. He was pretty buff, you already knew that, but now with the way he was leaning over you and trailing one hand down your abdomen to your panties, staring you down with almost black with lust eyes, he seemed fucking huge.

Arousal gathered in your panties at the thought.

You didn’t really know why. This didn’t usually get you this worked up. Maybe it was the events of tonight, or the events of the past couple of months, of Jeon Jungkook being the most gentlemanly any man could ever be while still having the ability to flip the switch and snap someone in two if he wanted to. 

Or maybe it simply was the fact that you were attracted to him on so many different levels. Aside from the fact that Jungkook appeared to be a man sculpted like gods, from the top of his head all the way down to his toes, the past few months with him had been nothing short of surreal. From the little things that showed how much he looked after you, down to the way he kissed you so lovingly every single time, as if pouring out his emotions to you with the way he did it.

“Fuck,” you pant out when he slips his hand beneath your panties and gathers your wetness on his fingers. You press your lips together as his fingers begin exploring.

“So wet already,” he hums, placing a kiss to your cleavage before hastily making his way down your body. He looks up at you for a beat, removing his hand from your panties before gripping both sides and slowly sliding the material down until they reached your ankles, where you kick them away at once.

Shuffling can be heard as he situates himself between your legs and you spread them open for him. You don’t dare look down as you expose yourself to him, opting to stare up at the white ceiling, but you hear a pleased sound coming from down there before short kisses are being littered all across your inner thighs. You continue to stare up, breathing pace increasing, faster with each second as he kisses and nips at the sensitive skin, getting closer to your growing wetness with each peck.

“How do you like it?” The question is muffled into your skin. He kisses your lips once, gently, as if he was kissing any other more innocent part of you.

“Hmm?” You hum distractedly, looking down questioningly.

“How do you like it, baby?” He repeats the question and kisses your pussy once more, and your breath hitches as he makes eye contact. His tongue slithers out for a swift lick. “Fast? Slow?” He licks a long stripe up your lips and you shutter, fingers already gripping the sheets to ready yourself. “Messy?”

“Jungkook,” you gasp because he’s already licking into you and humming in satisfaction.

“You better tell me before I just go with whatever I want,” he warns jokingly. He shifts slightly and situates himself better, elbows digging into the the mattress. 

“I-I like it fast,” you breathe out because he’s already mouthing at your center. “And m-messy-shit-”

He delivers what you request without hesitation, tongue beginning to lave at your wet hole, creating a kind of friction that you immediately begin to tense up at. You gasp at the ceiling. Tongue wiggling and lapping at every drop of your essence, you think you can hear him breathe you in deeply and it causes more of your wetness to gush out. It’s incredible, you didn’t expect the onslaught of sensations you were currently experiencing to come so fast, but he already has you building up a sweat with the way he stiffens his tongue and pokes at your hole.

“Shit-J-Jungkook I-” you whimper. He hums right into your pussy. Sloppy noises of sucking and licking travel through the air and if anyone were to hear, they would probably be turned off but you feel anything but. The way he opens his mouth and spreads your lips with two sets of fingers either side to open you up for him. The heat of his mouth fully encasing you, sucking and flicking his tongue at your clit. It breaks your voice and your eyes roll back as your back arches.

“Oh god fuck! Jungkook! Jungkook!” His name is repeated several times, broken little cries and small whimpers reaching his ears. His palms are stroking your thighs, moving higher and higher up and past your tummy. “Oh-oh god!”

His palms reach your breasts and he takes them in his hands, kneading and squeezing. Your head digs into the mattress and your back arches into his touch. Sweat beads build at your temples and you feel so hot all over, like you’re going to explode, most of the heat centered at your core where Jungkook is suddenly moving his head side to side, tongue movement switching up. “F-fuck. Fuckfuckfuck-”

Fingers squeeze at your breasts harder. “Take it-hmph-off.” He’s spewing the words into your cunt and you almost don’t hear them but he pats your chest twice, too busy eating you up to focus on taking it off himself. Hastily, with shaky hands. your lift your back and yank the restraining material, sensitive nipples now exposed to his deft fingers.

You look down and whimper weakly at the sight. Hair falling over his face, tongue pressed into your wetness and full lips sucking your clit into his mouth. “Oh god! Like that-”

“Like that?” He repeats and sucks again.

“Yes! Yes yes yes-” You cry out repeatedly.

His tongue stiffens again and he wiggles it inside your pussy. You gasp, choked moan escaping your lips. Shocks of pleasure shoot through you. Your fingers scramble to grip at the messy sheets.

“Ngh-I’m-I’m gonna-”

“Cum.” He says one word. Both hands leave your breasts and shoot down to your ass, gripping the flesh tightly and bring you closer to his mouth, widening it until he covers your entire pussy and sucks noisily, slurping up your wetness.

“Fuck! Fuck Jung-Jungkook I-oh god I’m gonna-oh! Oh don’t stop!” You’re spewing out so many random words, high pitched and sounding the filthiest you’ve ever felt, body buzzing with so much pleasure and ecstasy as you feel your orgasm overtake you. “Don’tstop-please please please Jungkook-” His name is whined out and he enjoys your sounds more than anything, licking you through your orgasm until your body twitches and you weak fingers push at him weakly.

“Guk,” you whimper.

He doesn’t stop.

“Shit Guk,” you whine again and he pulls away. His mouth and chin are soaked, cheeks flushed, hair slightly damp with sweat and strands falling across his face.

“Fuck,” he whispers, staring at you for a second, looking completely fucked out and he hasn’t even pulled his cock out yet. Your chest is heaving and your eyes are droopy and - you look absolutely fuckable.

His movements are a blue in front of your eyes, but you watch hazily as he leans back and slips off his boxers, his eyes never once leaving you. They travel up and down your body, sweaty and flushed, legs spread and exposed for him, and he’s already planning in his head all the different ways he wants to have his ways with you if you let him.

Your gasp can be heard clearly in the quiet of the room, and his eyes shoot up to catch what you’re so surprised about, and true to his assumption, your eyes are glued to his cock that’s now wrapped in his slender fingers. He feels something swell in his core, and he doesn’t know if it’s pride at the way you’re taking him in with a mouth agape and flushed cheeks.

A trickle of wetness, you feel it building up and slipping out as you stare unabashedly.

It’s pretty. You’ve never described a dick as pretty, but it really was. Oh, and it was big. Big would be an understatement, it was huge. It made even his enormous hands look normal sized, even smaller maybe. Long, thick and curved at the tip. That little curve had your pussy clenching, and you’re gulping down a whimper harshly. The sight of him kneeling there is so erotic, and to make things worse, as if he knows your body was a bit too much for you to handle or comprehend, he raises a muscly arm and pushes his hair back from his face and looks at you with the most seductive look you’ve ever been subjected to, cock still in hand as he utters his next words.

“You gonna let me fuck you now, baby?” His voice is a bit hoarse, deeper than before, tone laced with pure desire.

You nod, legs spreading even wider than they already were, bottom lip pulled back beneath your teeth. He chuckles and leans forward, hand abandoning his cock and coming to rest beside your head as he leans over top of your body, face now right above yours.

“Words, baby,” he tells you. The other hand trails up your body, from your thigh, to your abdomen, to your breasts where he grazes his nail against your nipple, and the skin immediately pebbles up at the sultry touch. “You need to tell me what you want,” he squeezes your nipple ever so slightly before he releases it, continuing his path up and resting an open palm over your chest, across your collarbones, fingers laying right at the base of your neck. “What you like.” It’s not really a squeeze, but you feel the smallest bit of pressure there and you immediately gasp, thighs clenching but being blocked by his large build, and he notices your reaction. His hand slithers further up until his fingertips tap at your mouth, eyes locked with yours, eyebrows twitching up and lips curling into a sinister smile. “Just need you to tell me, baby.”

He watches, satisfied as you part your lips for his fingers to enter, and he slithers in two.  Knuckle deep, your flick your tongue over the digits and coat them with your spit as you would his pretty cock, and his cock twitches at the filthy act. You suck and wrap your lips around them, doing the most, and he slides them further inside your mouth, lips parting slightly as his breath got heavy at the sight. You kept looking at him the entire time, eyes blinking up at him to take in his every reaction.

“Jesus, __,” he groans. He slips them out and attacks your mouth with a hungry kiss, hand slipping between your bodies and going straight for your pussy. You squeal into his mouth and his tongue immediately slides in as his now soaked fingers fuck into you.

“Hmph-Jungkook!” His name is muffled as his fingers begin thrusting in and out, not giving you a second to breathe properly, mouth ravishing yours with kisses so deep it felt like he was trying to swallow you whole. Hands reaching for his back and shoulders, hips writhing beneath the strength of his body, your head pushes back and away from his mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips and it only breaks when he licks his lips hungrily at the sight of you.

“Yeah?” He moves his fingers harder and your body jolts. “Like that? Tell me, baby.”

“Yes! Yeah,” you whine. Your body thrashes and your head turns to the side as you gasp and pant. He can’t help it, leaning in and running his nose all across your neck and up to your cheeks, teeth nipping at whatever skin he can reach. He can’t get enough of you and you can hear it in the way he breathes heavily and groans out your name.

“Your pussy’s so wet, baby,” he grunts, going faster and faster. “Will you let me fuck you? Will you let me fuck you hard?” He’s groaning but it also sounds like he’s begging, desperate for you to allow him to take you like he wants.

“Yes! Y-yes! Jung-Jungkook pleaseplease-” Your voice is high and it sounds like you’re squealing and he can’t wait to hear what you sound like when he finally has his cock buried in your cunt. “Jungkook! Ohgod fuck me-”

His fingers leave you and he’s lifting his body up from yours, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you. But he’s situating himself between your thighs once again and looking up at you with a wink, and for a second you’re about to question his intentions when he purses his lips and allows a trail of spit to cover your pussy, and the second it connects with you, you’re moaning out loudly.

“You said you liked it messy,” he explain deviously, knees now placed beneath your ass as he finally begins lining his cock up with your entrance. You’re quick to look down, entranced by the sight of the large head rubbing up and down your wetness mixed with his spit, a shiny sheet now coating the sensitive skin. You press your lips together, head spinning with excitement and slight nervousness because it looks so fucking big now that you see it there.

“If I go too fast,” he warns, tip now slowly pushing in. “Or too rough,” his tone is a bit more breathy now, choked back. “You have to tell me.”

You gasp, nodding hastily, but you can’t imagine ever telling him to stop. Nothing he’s done so far has felt too much for you, and you can’t imagine anything involving him not feeling good for you, especially with the way his cock now feels gliding inside you and slowly making you feel full.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, __,” he grunts, halfway in. He’s biting at his lip, brows furrowed, tonguing pushing against his cheek. He takes a deep breath and looks up at you, hands now gripping your thighs, pausing his hips from moving further. “You have to tell me-”

“Jungkook,” you whine, hips bucking and both your moans resonate into the atmosphere as he buckles over, hands releasing your thighs in favor of holding himself up, fists clenched so tightly his veins started popping as they dug into the mattress either side of your torso. He huffs, dark eyes looking up at you through hooded lids, an almost predatory gaze hiding somewhere in there. He looked intimidating but in the best way possible, and you found yourself rolling your hips again. The furrow in his brows gets deeper.

“I don’t want you to hold back,” you plead. “Fuck me. Hard.” You stress on the last word with a whine. The chuckle that leaves his lips almost sounds dark in a way-

“Fuck,” you heave, breath knocked out of you when he pulls his hips back and thrusts back in, not even all the way, but it still has you struggling to breathe.

“You like it rough?” He grunts through heavy breaths, sliding in further and further until you were completely connected and his abdomen connected with yours.

“Ye-fuck!” You squeal out. Hips pulling back and slamming back in, he watches with ravenous eyes the way you tremble beneath him. He does it again, and again, and again, slowly and pausing between each thrust, but each one just as hard the previous.

“I-I-” You stutter out but can’t manage to formulate a single thought because his pace suddenly picks up and you’re left with no resort but to pant and moan out your pleasure. He’d prepped you so well his cock moved inside you so easily, your wetness coating him so nicely, and he only felt you getting wetter every time he filled you to the brim.

“You want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you, baby.” He’s sitting back on his haunches, powerful thighs supporting yours, before he sets a brutal pace that brings a loud yelp to escape you, It feels so intense, the way he bucks skillful hips into yours and slams into you so hard it feels like it would border on painful, but it doesn’t. It felt so good. 

He fulfills his promise. Moans, whimpers, squeals, all sorts of pleasured sounds leave your lips repeatedly. His cock reaches so deep inside you one second, and he’s pulling all the way out in the next before once again repeating the motions. “Ngh-Jungkook. Jungkook! Fuck-”

“Oh fuck baby,” he moans loudly and it sounds so beautiful you want to hear it over and over again. You look up at the sweaty man above you, looking like the most sinful vision. His hair is wet now, a couple of strands dripping with sweat, droplets trailing down his temple, some down his jaw and jaw. His neck, god if you could bite it, it looked so thick and delicious, his adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows thickly. His torso looked even more defined, every single muscle straining and pulling to fuck into you with all his might. What looked most beautiful to you were his arms, veins popping, tattoos clear even in the dim lighting of the bedroom. His hands, big as ever, gripped your thighs so tight his knuckles turned white. He gripped them even tighter for leverage and pulled you closer the same time he pushed hard-

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck-” your hands scramble to grab onto something, only finding purchase in the soft sheets that did nothing to anchor you against his ruthless movements. “Jungkook! J-Jungkook baby!”

“You sound so fucking pretty baby,” he grunts. He stares down at his cock and the way it splits you open so prettily, your lips spread around him and the sight was so erotic to him, he threw his head back with a prolonged groan before he leaned forward. He grips your thighs and tugs you down on the bed, placing you in the position he wants and your pussy clenches from that simple action alone

“Even you pussy sounds pretty,” he comments, throwing your thighs into the crook of his elbows, anchoring both hands on the mattress and moving so that you body almost bent in half beneath him. “Hear that?” He pulls all the way out and slams back in so hard his hips smack against your ass loudly, The sound your pussy makes when his cock slips all the way in; wet, it’s loud and clear and it brings a flush to your cheeks, though it hardly shows since you were already red with heat. “So wet.”

The new position makes the sensations double, your thighs burning with how far they were spread but you can’t even begin to care with how he begins to furiously drill his cock into you over and over. Body being fucked into the mattress, mewls and screams of agonizing pleasure escape you, completely losing any sense of control you thought you ever had. He looked like sin embodied, bottom lip tugged beneath his teeth, half-lidded eyes, drenched dark hair swinging with every move, sticking to his flushed cheeks.

Your hands shakily reach up to wrap around his neck, one of them pushing some hair back from his face. Fingernails dig into the back of his neck at a particularly deep thrust, eyes rolling back.

“Oh! Oh god! Jung-Jungkookjungkookjungkook-” His name is a repeated mantra along with hoarse cries and wails. The sheets are damp with sweat beneath you, your body being jostled up and down over top of them with harsh movements that Jungkook  doesn’t hold back from anymore.

“Fuck! Your pussy’s so good baby. So wet-” He slows and grinds down against you. Toes curling, back arching, head pushing back into the pillows, your hands slip down his drenched torso across his pecks and settling on his abs, scratching the tensed muscles there as a broken sob leaves your lips.

“Ohgod- oh god- oh fuck! Jungkook please I’m- so good! So fucking good-”

Your desperate rambling excites him and he pushes deeper, and your ears don’t miss the filthy squelch that resonates when grinds his cock into your cunt. You involuntarily clench and he grunts in response. He keeps that way for a couple of seconds, grinding against you, his pubic bone pressing into just the right place to make you see stars.

He slips your thighs down and helps you wrap them around his slender waist before he wastes no time setting the quick pace once again. Hips smacking together loudly, grunts, groans, curses, squeals, they clash together like your bodies do, connected so deeply as he leans down and covers your body completely with his. You look up through hazy vision at his large frame working on top of yours so viciously, blocking everything from around you, not suffocating you but giving you a sense of warmth that has you wrapping your arms around his back and hugging him closely to your body.

Bodies now glued together, his hips swivel as best as they can up into yours, digging so deep, going faster and faster, harder and harder until your moans are quick and chopped up and your hands are slipping down his sweaty, broad back.

“Fuckfuck- Jungkook! Jungkook! Ohgod- oh! Oh!” You cry out. Your legs begin to fall from around him and your feet kick out against the sheets, back arching so high your breasts pressed firmly into his chest. You felt so close to him. His cheek rubs against yours with every thrust, his mouth sucking your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling on it. You turn your head towards him, eyes fluttering shut, taking in every single sliver of pleasure he brought you.

“I’m gonna cum- shit Jungkook pleaseplease- I’m cumming!” You cry out. It’s there. It’s right there. You feel it spreading.

“Fucking-fuck baby. Yeah,” he grunts and pushes harder. You choke on a sob. There are tears in your eyes. “Squeeze my cock. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, baby. That’s it.”

You don’t know if your hands are pulling him closer or pushing him away but he fucks you through it nonetheless, sloppy sounds of his cock drenched in your cum lewd and so loud but you could care less. You’re in heaven. You’re crying out, shouting his name in complete ecstasy and squirming in his hold as he grips your hips so tight they could bruise, pushing in deep and giving you quick shallow thrusts.

“I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming, baby,” he groans. His head is hidden in your neck, groaning and grunting into your clammy skin and giving you his all, knees digging into the mattress as he gives three deep thrusts as hard as he can. Your mouth drops open, no sounds coming out, breath cut short. One hand goes to your hair, gripping so tight as he finally lets go, spurts of warm cum filling you up.

The quiet that takes place after is deafening. It’s so loud after all the intensity you had just experienced. Neither of you move an inch away from each other, no, you pull him closer as you feel a drip of his cum leak out. Your hands lazily and gently caress his back. His lips, glued to one spot on your neck, pucker up and continuously place kisses. You’re both sighing dreamily as you relax further into one another and let your bodies relax after so much exertion before he finally lifts his head up just enough to face you.

No words are exchanged but a kiss takes place, slow, sweet, bringing back those butterflies you always have whenever he’s with you and he pulls away with that same shy, stupid smile of his. After all that, he’s still smiling at you like this, and you do nothing but giggle and stroke his hair away from his face.

+

A while later, after lying together and kissing on each other more, he suggests a shower with an innocent smile that makes you think he really was too tired to try anything else after all that. But you seem to forgot that Jungkook wasn’t this built for nothing and he actually has incredible stamina. Which is why, not even five minutes into the shower, he’s pushing you over the small handle bar and telling you to hold on tight as he spread your legs apart with a nudge of his knees.

He fucks you hard because he knows that’s how you want it. He pulls your hair and tugs you back against his firm chest and whispers the filthiest things in your ear.

“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.”

“You just wanna be fucked hard, huh?”

“Your pussy’s so tight, so warm, perfect for my cock.”

You only ever answer with broken sobs and pitiful moans. The shower is filled with sounds of your bodies colliding together and his harsh grunts that serve to weaken your knees even further until he has to practically hold you up himself. A task he easily does and that makes you even weaker for him.

You cum with hoarse cries, head dropping back against his shoulder as he runs both hands up your front and cups your breasts firmly, hips still slamming against your ass in chase of his own high that he reaches in no time.

He helps you out of the shower with a gentle peck to the tip of your nose as you smile up at him in a daze. He pats you dry with a towel and dabs at your hair to get any excess water out and you continue to stare up at him, entranced.

He looks so pretty. Eyes wide and focused on getting you dry, hair dripping down his face and neck. So different from the man who was just fucking you into next week a couple of minutes ago in the shower. No, this man smiles cutely down at you and giggles when you kiss his chin as he leans down further to dry your thighs. You kiss on his chest, admiring the tattoos scattered from his shoulder and down to his arm and hand. You kiss on him more and he sighs at the feeling, but he doesn’t expect you to push him away to rest his behind against the counter before swiftly dropping down to your knees in front of him.

The bathroom soon fills with his low moans and groans, backed with soft sounds of your mouth working on his cock. He watches closely as you attempt to swallow him down as much as possible, smaller hands working over the rest.

You look up at him through your lashes and watch as his head drops back and exposes the long column of his neck, the sight somehow getting you aroused once again as you feel wetness begin to gather between your legs. You suck harder, pull off and swirl your tongue deliciously around his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he encourages. His hand pets your hair tenderly before he gathers up some strands behind your head to grip. Your mouth looks so good stuffed full of his cock, lips wrapped so prettily around him. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad, but he thinks he’ll save that for a later time so he can give you more time for it. Instead, he leans back and enjoys the show, compliments and praises continuously leaving his lips as you hum against his cock, pleased with his sounds.

He cums down your throat with a long groan of your name and looks down at you with a breathless chuckle as he helps you up to your feet.

+

He eats you out again. He does it so good this time there are tears in your eyes by the end of it.

He has you ride him, and you do so with vigor, grappling onto his strong and sturdy shoulders for support as you bounce yourself on his cock.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you gasp time and time again. Sweat drips down your back at the effort. Your thighs burn. His eyes look everywhere at you, your face, your neck, your breasts, your dripping cunt. He leans back on his palms and watches with a satisfied smirk as you fuck yourself on his cock.

“That’s a good girl, baby,” he groans. You pause your bouncing and swivel your hips, grinding against him and he throws his head back. Leaning forward, you lick a strip up his neck hungrily, something you’ve been craving to and he grunts loudly.

He’s sitting up and grabbing your ass, fucking up into your hard, three, four times and it’s enough to have you squealing before he lifts your frail body off of him and places you on the mattress with ease.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he situates you. Ass up in the air, face down on the mattress. “I can’t get enough of you,” he groans, grabbing your ass and unable to stop himself from slamming his palm down harshly, an action that has you jolting forward in surprise. “You’re amazing,” he groans as he slides inside of you once again after sitting on his knees behind you. Whimpers fall freely from your lips because he immediately picked up the pace knowing the both of you were too close already. “I could fuck you forever.”

You squeal as another harsh slap lands on your behind.

“Again. More,” you whimper. Fisting the sheets between your palms, tears that were previously held back now escaping your eyes. It was so much. You loved it. “P-please.”

He spanks you again and again and again, as long as you ask for more, he delivers And he fucks you good while doing it, slamming into you so hard he has to keep you steady with his hands. Hips smacking against your ass, cock drilling you into the mattress, battering your cunt so good.

“F-fuck. Fuck J-Jungkook- so good. Sogood. So good oh god please-”

He goes harder. Faster. He spanks you again and more tears fall from your eyes. You bury your face into the mattress and muffle your uncontrollable crescendo of screams and moans into it as your high crashes over you for the nth time this night.

“Oh god, you’re such a good girl,” he breathes almost in disbelief as you cream his cock, coating it with your essence. Eyes glued to his cock still slamming into you. the sight brings him to his release in a couple of seconds as his hips lose their control and become sloppy.

“Shit. Shit! Fuck, __. Oh baby,” he groans and grunts and makes all sorts of noises, once again filling you with his cum as you sniffle and whimper into the mattress, keeping still for him as he comes down from his high.

The shower you two had taken is practically non-existent by now, and you feel sticky again as he gently pulls out and drops onto the mattress with a tired groan.

Both of you were completely burned out by now.

You slowly lift your face from the mattress to look over at him and he’s already staring at you. His cheeks are red. His hair, still damn from the shower, probably coated in sweat now, is sticking to his forehead. He’s breathing hard. He has the biggest smile on his face, two bunny teeth on full show, eyes crinkling, nose scrunching; the whole deal.

“That was nice,” he comments. You giggle.

“That was really nice,” you add lamely, twisting to lay on your side facing him.

He scoots closer and hugs you to him, sneaking his leg between yours until the two of you were pressed together tightly. He’s humming a tune, barely audible, and you trace patterns up and down his back distractedly.

“I really like you Jungkook,” you admit suddenly and you’re already inwardly shaking your head at how stupid that sounded after the intense couple of hours you two had just experienced.

“I think we’ve already established that a long time ago,” he chuckles and pulls back to look down at you. 

“No, I-” you pause and look down at his chest shyly. Your fingers continue tracing his warm back. “I really, really like you, Jungkook.”

He kind of gets what you’re trying to say and that maybe you’re just not ready to actually word it out. But he knows for sure when you look up at him and into his eyes. He knows.

“Well, I really, really like you too, __,” he repeats, smile getting smaller and his eyes more serious. His fingers push back your hair and he gently strokes your cheek and nudges his nose against yours as your eyes flutter shut at the intimate contact.

“I’ll always be here,” he repeats words that he’s said to you before. Words that you know are true. Because he always was and always will be here. Sure, he came for the job, but eventually, he stayed for you. 

You know, he was your knight in shining armor after all.

[definitionsfading]

writing fic is such an unpredictable pursuit for me, and this is why I hesitate to try patreon (and have always hesitated since 2018 at least). I'm either mainlining inspiration straight from the heavenly void of Divine Creativity and churning out 5K words in a single day or I'm in the doldrums doing NOTHING for six weeks. there is no consistency in my process. I’ve tried to find consistency for the past 10 years and have repeatedly failed to do it.

and like, writing is always Work at some level even when I'm enjoying myself. it's rare that I can create something with genuine ease anymore, like it was a story waiting and wanting to be written without me needing to force it through. in this age of self-made creators I feel like I’m being punished, like god doesn't want me to monetize my hobbies lmao. I’m not Allowed to be successful. 

and it kind of makes me feel genuinely sick sometimes, in the back of my head, because it's so rare that I truly enjoy the process of writing anymore. I'm only motivated by the finished product and what it can provide for me. do I even love writing? or do I just do it...because it's the only social or emotional currency I have?

I better quit thinking before I start spiraling. but honestly, the only way I have been able to reach people and provide anything of remote value over the past ten years, is by writing. I do it so often out of this animalistic desperation for human connection. I think it's why I mentally suffer a lot. the writing is on the fucking wall.

I’m just having a hard time right now across the board. I cleaned out a bunch of ephemera boxes full of old birthday cards I’d kept dating back to my sixteenth birthday, and every year up until I was 20-21 my mom would always tell me how proud she was of me and the person I was becoming. and after I got into college, and absolutely after I left college, she just...stopped. like it didn’t matter anymore. nothing I did, or have done since I left high school, has been worthy of genuine praise or pride. like I live in this haunted shadow of my own failure as an adult and I can’t outrun it no matter how hard I try to break free or advance to the next level. for some reason, I don’t know how to play the game. 

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Writing Update Dec. 28th, 2022

i once again forgot to do this for a few weeks BUT this time it was good reason (i started a new wip and got very excited about it) Progress made: 11.3k words drafted, ~1.4k words of brainstorming WIPs worked on: Goddess-Touched [total wc: 31.1k], Whispers [total wc: 10k], [REDACTED] [total wc: 500] Writing streak: 497 days Current chapter/POV: Starting chapter 3 of Whispers, Lorelei POV!

Favorite line(s) (Whispers, Marika POV) (Content Warning: vivid description of violence):

He starts to struggle when I yank the knife back out, shoving to try and escape, tears in his eyes and a clear change in the hanging of his pants when I let him stumble away.

Of course, like so many before him, he bites his sleeve, like he thinks shouting for help would lessen his odds.

Unfortunately for him, it is a straight shot down the hall to the staircase, and I have done this before.

I catch the arm he throws out for balance as he bites back his tears, twist it behind his back and wrestle him further towards the drop.

“Beg.”

I shake him, drag him forward again.

“Beg me to stop, and maybe I will.”

What I'm looking forward to next:

Am I allowed to say the entire rest of the book? No, you know what, I make the rules. I'm looking forward to the entire rest of the book.

This weekmonth's soundtrack:

The Assassin Two-Step by Austin Wintory, Huldra Brothers by Bear McCreary, and Elysia's Eyes by Audiomachine + Paul Dinletir.

Notes/Thoughts:

I have never been more happy that I switched WIPs, even if I don't end up following Whispers all the way to the end - I hadn't realized just how badly I needed a break from Millennium Saga until I literally took maybe two days to write the 5k+ words of Whispers Chapter One. You know, at the same time I was struggling to get the probably-3k Nimbus chapter in GT to even get going.

Anyways, I'm having fun writing characters that don't give two shits about morality or the state of the world, only that they're in a bad situation and they will make that everyone else's problem as well as their own. I've had this story in my head for almost as long as I had FB and ES in there, and though it's gone through almost as many changes as they did, it's also never been a story about good people doing good things.

So, uh, yeah. If you haven't seen it already, the comic sans WIP intro is here, and I'll be making a proper intro for it next week I think!

[scorchieart]

Straight Eights - Chapter 1

Straight Eights - Chapter 1 | AO3

The Princess and the Guard Dog

Rating: T (for implied violence and blood)

Characters: Emma/Belle, Leon Dompteur, Rio Ortiz

Word Count: ~4.9k

[couldn't breach the 5k (∩︵∩)]

Summary: When scholarship winner Emma walked through the doors of her elite high school, she wanted nothing more than to blend in with the crowd and draw as little attention to herself until graduation. But that plan flies out the window when she ends up slapping a boy in the face before the first bell! Being the talk of the school makes her a huge target for these preppy rich kids, especially when it comes her bizarre classmates and unconventional teachers, so she has to play some cards from her old life and learn some new tricks to keep her identity a secret while still maintaining her grades and keep her place in school.

A/N: Part of the Different Universe Same, Love Content Creation Challenge hosted by @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady

Thank you both for setting this up, it pushed me to finally start writing this fic!

Prompts: Academia AU, Modern AU, and a smidge of Role Reversal AU

************************************************************************

When I was a little girl, I slapped a kid so hard in the playground for kicking sand in a group of toddlers’ faces that he ended up with periodic nosebleeds for weeks. Since then people called me Princess Noble Beast, after our district’s mascot, fair and swift in her judgment. I wore that title like a badge of honor, walking through the halls of my primary school like royalty, my hands held high as divine sentencers. Children opened their arms wide accepting me into their friend groups and adults praised me for my poise and commitment to the rules. I stood at the top of the food chain and no one dared cross my path.

But as I stand here, palm stinging and staring up at the dozens of eyes trained on me, a teenage boy cradling his cheek at my feet, I feel less like a princess delivering justice and more like a criminal caught red-handed in the act.

I shakily lower my right hand and slide it into the pocket of my blazer, only to remember I hadn’t yet bothered to remove the thread binding them shut. Is this common for custom-made clothes? Women’s pockets were already small enough, why add on to the struggle with this extra barrier? I manage to snake my thumb and forefinger in between some loose stitching as a tall figure with black hair approaches from within the crowd.

“That’s one way to make an introduction,” he says to me before kneeling in front of the collapsed boy. “A little over-excited for the first day back, yeah?”

“Looking for a fight?” the boy starts, raising his head. But as soon as his eyes meet the other’s he stiffens, face turning beet red.

“No one’s looking for any trouble, friend,” the dark haired figure says, offering his hand. The boy timidly accepts and is pulled to his feet, one hand still on his cheek and his eyes trained on his shoes. “Why don’t you swing by Mr. J’s class before homeroom, get that cheek looked at.”

The boy nods quickly then disappears into the sea of students. Faces from all directions are still pointed at us as an arm extends to me this time. “That was a mighty blow. You hurt?”

His eyes are the color of the buttons that adorn our matching uniforms, golden and resplendent, but that is where our similarities end. He stands a full foot taller than me with broad shoulders and hair that looks almost too untamed to be accidental. The collar of his dress shirt sticks out at an awkward angle from underneath his blazer, hinting that it either wasn’t ironed properly or folded neatly before he put it on. And even though he stands a respectable distance away from me unlike the last boy, I still catch the faint whiff of perspiration and see beads of sweat dripping down his brow, most likely a result of when we all stampeded through the main doors just moments prior.

He beckons lightly and I take it he is offering to check over my reddening hand. I slide the fingers out of the pocket and fold my hand over my other arm, cradling two books tight to my chest as nonchalantly as I can. “I’m fine,” I say, preparing to spin on my heels hoping I can dissolve into the crowd like the other boy.

“Hey, is that the new Heartwringer?”

He’s pointing at the outer of my books, a pink hardcover dotted with dozens of embossed reflective hearts and squiggles. 

“Uh, you read Heartwringer?” I ask.

“No, but I know someone who does. Says it’s got its merits, but every time I open one up I can’t get past the first chapter.”

I’m not sure what surprises me more, the fact that this guy tried reading a mushy young adult romance series or that someone actually recommended it to him.

“You’re not exactly the target audience,” I offer, hoping I sound as inoffensive as possible with the flock of ears still surrounding us. Honestly, don’t these people have someplace to be?

“Hey, if they didn’t want me reading it the publisher would have plastered ‘No jocks allowed!’ on the cover,” he says, and some snickers emerge from the audience. He brushes his swoopy bangs out of his face, and for some reason that irritates me.

 “As long as they can make a quick buck, ads will convince you there’s twenty-one things wrong with your hair and only their product can fix it,” I say. 

“Wait, you mean that gel I bought off that shady website was just a scam?” He says, vigorously running his hands through his hair in an exaggerated manner. The result is his head looking even more like a rat’s nest and the crowd erupting in laughter.

“Better get your money back, dude!” someone calls.

“Yeah, rip ‘em a new one like you did to Jade in the semifinals!” another whoops.

The tension that filled the air only moments ago slackens so abruptly that I have to lean against the wall to keep my knees from melting into jelly. It was so quick and uncomplicated with no threat of violence or fear. He mollified the crowd like it was as simple as combing his hair. The satisfied students disperse soon after, several offering the boy fist bumps and high-fives along the way, and it was as though time was allowed to flow again.

“And that’s why you should never accept opinions from strangers,” the boy says, shooting finger guns at a group of giggling girls as they passed.

“Thanks for the public safety announcement,” I say, pushing myself off the wall towards the front entrance as more students stagger in.

“Hang on, you don’t wanna head back out there. Trust me,” he says.

“What was that about not trusting people you don’t know?” I say.

“Touché,” he says, “but for real, you’re better off staying put. At least for the next five minutes or so.”

“I’m waiting for my friend.” I push past him, but he swipes the two books out of my arms and holds them out of reach. “Return those, please.”

“After the first bell rings. Promise.” 

My hand twitches in the familiar way when I prepare to deliver a slap, but I can’t tell if the smile he wears is conniving or genuine, so I’ll hold off on judgment until his appointed five minutes are up. He barely registers my gracious consideration nor his narrow escape from justice as he opens up the novel. 

“Someone’s been up late,” he says, flipping to the last third of the book where my bookmark lay. “Didn’t this just release the other day?”

“It’s been out for almost a month now.”

“Seriously? I coulda sworn it blew up on Twitter only yesterday,” he says. So he can’t stand reading the books themselves, but he keeps up with the discussion on social media?

“That’s because the Second Prince's review only dropped yesterday,” I say.

Rhodolite isn’t actually a monarchy. We’re the smallest of a cluster of independent districts each ruled by a governor. We each specialize in our own fields of labor and mainly deal with each other only in trade. Though we aren’t hostile towards one another, the neighboring districts aren’t exactly friendly either. We primarily keep to ourselves and only consider crossing borders for nominal purposes, like business or travel or inter-district conferencing. The Second Prince was the first to transcend these borders for entirely personal reasons, and wound up the Saving Grace and Gossip Girl of the bibliophile world in the process.

There was a time before I was born when the ever-increasing work hours and diminishing leisure time of our modern age withered Rhodolite’s printing industry to near extinction. Coupled with the fact that technology was quickly dominating the written word, our district wasn’t holding up so great. We specialize in arts and the humanities; physical media is our bread and butter. We are the leading supplier of printed works throughout the districts, from paper to paintings to sculptures, and having one of our largest industries struggle took a big hit to our economy and national pride. 

Then just when a bunch of big name publishers seemed ready to shut their doors for good, thousands of orders flooded all the bookstores across the district in the span of one hour. No one knew anything about the source of those orders other than that they were all placed under the name of the Second Prince, paid in cash, and picked up by masked gentlemen the next day. Bookstore owners publicly shared the details of the orders out of curiosity, and it quickly became clear that this Second Prince could be no common citizen. The majority of the books ordered were first editions or hardcovers or generally the priciest versions on the market. Some titles were even ordered multiple times from different locations. One enthusiast compiled all this data and calculated the prince’s total bill to be in the ballpark of half a million dollars. 

Naturally, news of this incident spread like wildfire, and people across districts began concocting theories as to the identity of this mysterious Second Prince. Some believed he was a wealthy shareholder who held a lot of stake in the publishing industry. Others said he was one of those big time influencers or corporate heirs with tons of cash to throw around on a big prank. Some even claimed that the Second Prince was actually a coalition of booklovers taking their last stand against the dying industry.

Whatever the intention, the stunt got results. People all over swarmed Rhodolite’s bookstores demanding titles the Second Prince ordered with fervor, and it wasn’t long before mile-long backlogs and waitlists became the norm for all releases. The influx in popularity drove publishers manic and book printing ramped up nearly tenfold over the next decade. We still feel the effects of the prince’s efforts to this day. Books regularly fly off store shelves to the point that many chains were forced to open locations in other districts to meet demand. Reporters claim recreational reading beat out sports for the number one leisurely activity in our district for the tenth year running. Newsprint flourished as the people’s main source for updates as fans wrote in with any info they had on the prince, or as was becoming more common, claiming they were him.

But it didn’t stop there. Just when everyone thought the reading fad was close to ending its course, five years ago book reviews started popping up on a tiny internet blog. These weren’t your typical “Five stars! Would recommend” remarks but full-length literary analyses, complete with scholarly theses and bibliographical citations. Every single book released in the past decade received two, one spoiler-free version and one dissecting the plot and themes to their core, often brutally so, and never totaled less than twenty pages. What shocked readers more than the length though was the signature at the end of each review: From the desk of the Second Prince.

Again the enthusiasts had a field day with this new discovery, sprouting fresh theories as to whether this was the same Second Prince from the book drought twenty years ago or just another poser trying to ride the coattails of his fame like in the papers. Would his revival signal a second boom in Rhodolite’s economy? Did it spell another economic decline in the near future? Those who remembered Rhodolite’s last recession went into a panic, the scars of wounded pride still fresh in their minds, and rushed to their nearest bookstores stockpiling copies the moment a new review circulated no matter what the prince said about them. Meanwhile, the rest of us too young to remember or weren’t around for his first appearance adopted a more relaxed approach and take the reviews as they are; literary critiques. I have a feeling it’s what this “second” Second Prince intended for them anyhow. 

As an elected royal myself, I could respect the prince’s dedication to his craft, even if it was exhibited anonymously. I’d spend hours up at night scrolling through his blog, filtering through my favorite genres, on the hunt for my next read. Dedicated fans noticed he typically posts in the late evening, and come morning his verdict is law. To get a glowing review from the Second Prince basically equates to your book’s success, bookstores calling in the printing companies for extra orders by the hundreds. However, fail to impress him even once and your entire career is flushed down the drain into oblivion. It’s a risky business being a blooming writer Rhodolite, but a gauntlet many young authors stepped up to accept, and one I intend to take on someday, too.

“And here I thought you understood my lesson on not trusting people on the internet,” the dark haired boy says, waving me off as he flips to the inside cover. “Whoa, you got a first edition?”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you would handle it with care,” I say, tapping my foot.

“Aye aye, captain.” He closes it extra softly and digs a hand into his stitch-free blazer pocket. “For real though, you gotta let me know how that book goes, I dunno if I can make it to the end in time before it gets memed to death on social media.” He pulls out a slick smartphone encased in a deep maroon cover with a golden lion, and sticks it up to me. I’ve seen this gesture before. On TV when characters want to exchange contact information, they simply touch the backs of their phones together and the data automatically transfers. It’s a feature that was introduced a few years back and all the latest releases nowadays come equipped with it, though I’ve never personally tried it before and freeze on the spot.

He seems to notice my hesitation and retracts the phone. “Sorry, bet that was weird, swapping numbers with a guy you just met. Practice what you preach, am I right?” He smooths down some of his hair strands then opens the second book I was holding; a blank composition notebook. He subtly plucks a pen from the breast pocket of a passerby student, jots something on the first page, then returns both books to me with a smirk. “If you’re ever up to fangirl over some fictional relationships, just give me a ring.”

I flip the notebook open to find he’s scribbled his number and a short note underneath.

I can’t help the snort that comes out. “I’ll consider it.”

Leon D. 

The jock with the cool hair

“Anytime. Oh, and if you ever run into trouble again, it’s cool to give me a call, too, uh… sorry, what should I call you?”

Before I can open my mouth, I hear my name called like it’s a rocket barreling towards us.

“Princess Emma!” 

Hordes of students clap their hands over their ears as Rio yells in his default high volume, but to me it’s as though a nostalgic hymn serenades down these halls.

Rio’s been my best friend for the past three years. He moved to my neighborhood in the middle of the school year, so the kids mostly ignored him when he first showed up. That stopped the moment he beat an eighth grader in a wrestling match during the annual sports festival, and the rest of his friends ganged up on him behind the parking lot after school. A classmate tipped me off to this as we were walking home, and I turned around on the spot. By the time I arrived, Rio had been beaten half to death, his blood sparkling against the patched concrete and his limbs twisted in unnatural angles like fallen tree branches. It only took a raised hand and a verbal warning from Princess Noble Beast before the gang scattered, and I managed to haul Rio’s mangled body back to school where a teacher discovered us and called an ambulance. 

I’m not too certain about the details following that; I wasn’t allowed to ride with him to the hospital. I was told by the adults I’d done a good job and should just head home. But ever since the day Rio dragged himself back into class on crutches we’ve been inseparable. Or more accurately, I haven’t been able to shake him off my tail. He’d sit next to me during the classes we’d shared and follow me around in the hallways with a huge smile plastered across his face insisting I teach him the technique I used to scare off the eighth graders. I had grown well accustomed to admirers flanking me for my coveted slap by that point, but no matter how many times I explained it was merely a Princess’s duty to protect her people he’d refuse to leave my side. It didn’t take long for the student body to come up with another one of their famous nicknames, and soon enough Rio was anointed the Princess’s Pet Puppy. 

It turned out that I’d tire of this nickname more than Rio. Between tailing me everywhere I went, partnering with me for all in-class assignments, and clinging to me as I walked home after school, Rio quickly monopolized all my time. I figured if I showed him indifference he’d eventually lose interest, but that only made him double-down on his efforts to make me interact with him. It all came to a head the day my female friends disinvited me from a slumber party because they didn’t want to risk a boy showing up, and after school when I saw Rio skipping towards me and waving with his big goofy grin I snapped.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone!” I shouted at him midway through crossing the street.

He stopped in his tracks and stared with a gaze so empty it reminded me of when I found him beaten behind school. “You don’t like having me around?” he said, voice cracking.

“No, I don’t! All my friends don’t like me anymore because of you, so just go back to where you came from!”

Middle school is a time defined by mistakes and regrets, and I still consider that to be the most horrible thing that’s ever come out of my mouth. My only solace is that I was cut off from saying any more over the sound of the car horn blaring in my direction.

I should have been hit, it would be fitting retribution for the vulgarity I spewed, a suitable end to the pure-of-heart princess who strayed from her path at the height of her reign. But instead of a steel bumper, the sun assaulted my vision as I laid face up on the opposite curb completely unharmed, Rio bawling apologies over my toppled body.

It’s a funny thing, when two people save each other from certain doom. You develop a sort of bond that’s not quite like friends, or family, or even lovers. It’s more like an unspoken vow, like we can look at each other and know exactly what the other person’s thinking and feeling. 

I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s ok, you didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have intruded so much on you. We cool? Yeah, we’re cool.

I could never truly understand what it was or even put a name to it, though I suspect Rio felt the same way.

Things sort of went back to normal, if you can call it that. Rio still stuck by my side, but I never told him off again. Maybe it was out of pity for the transfer boy with no friends, maybe I still felt guilty for what I said on the street, or maybe some perverse side of me actually enjoyed having a constant shadow watching my back at all times. Whatever the reason, I sort of took him under my wing and taught him the way things worked in our school; what students to avoid, how to best sneak into class when you’re late, which lunch ladies dished out the biggest servings… that sort of stuff. Maybe he was just super excited that I started responding to his presence again because he held onto every tidbit I fed him like it was the gospel, and soon enough he mastered the inner workings of our school as though he lived there his entire life.

I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine.

And so the days went on with the Princess and her now Guard Dog patrolling our tiny neighborhood with an iron fist and adamant authority. Rio quickly proved his victory in the wrestling match wasn’t a fluke as he could take on any opponent one-on-one no matter the size, and he built up a reputation of his own as a harbinger of justice. 

We shared our ambitions, mine of becoming a successful author and him to backpack around the world, and soon enough I was looking forward to seeing him and his dopey grin everyday. Life was turning out well as the years went on and it seemed that our little tag-team was set to last, at least until this June when my acceptance letter to Rhodolite Academy arrived.

Ever supportive, Rio was even more ecstatic at my admission than I was, railing on about how I was the most qualified person on the planet for the scholarship to anyone who would listen till their ears fell off. That unspoken feeling we shared was enough for me to tell it was all a cover though; Rhodolite Private Academy only offers two scholarships a year to incoming high school freshmen, one boy and one girl, and I’d seen Rio crumble in tears by his mailbox from my bedroom window the same morning my acceptance letter arrived.

 I told him going to different schools wouldn’t hamper our friendship, and I’d still be living at home so we could always hang out after school and on the weekends. But Rio was adamant about us sharing our high school experience, and if there was one word I’d use to describe him it would be persistent.

Every morning in July, Rio marched up to the campus at dawn (a full hour on foot each way) with a loudspeaker and perched himself in front of the iron gates demanding to speak with the headmaster. Technically he never stood on school property and presented his case as a minor protesting his right to free speech, so the cops couldn’t legally drive him away without crossing risky territory. I held off telling him that the headmaster probably wouldn’t be at school during Summer Break until the staff finally let him in on the last day of July on the condition that he never bring the loudspeaker again. I remember he nearly bust down my front door at sunset panting and screaming that he got in.

The school couldn’t formally offer a third scholarship on account of some archaic legacy nonsensicality, so Rio’s enrollment was settled under the rug as him taking a part-time job assisting in the main office during his free periods and some weekends. This arrangement ensured money he earned would be put directly towards his tuition and doubled as work experience during his high school career, but I could tell Rio couldn’t care less about the details as long as it meant we could continue studying together.

I have to admit I’d spent much of the summer agonizing over the fact that I’d be moving to a new school alone, far away from my kingdom and people, starting at the bottom of the food chain in a totally new environment full of snooty rich kids who’ve been mastering the trade since birth, but seeing Rio paddle up the stairs and through the main doors with his goofy smile reminded me how lucky I was to have saved the boy with no friends all those years ago.

“I thought you were going to wait for me at the front entrance! We were supposed to take the first step of our high school journeys together!” Rio pants, clutching his knees and catching his breath.

“Sorry, I kinda got swept in the wave,” I say. It was the truth, too. Students trampled the path leading from the gates up to the Entrance Hall with such ferocity you’d think they were trying to escape a mass murderer. I’d done my best to stand my ground at the base of the steps waiting for Rio, but pushing in the opposite direction only proved futile with my arms preoccupied protecting myself and my books, and it wasn’t long until I fell victim to the flow, getting tossed left and right and up like a ragdoll. The boy I slapped earlier shoved me particularly hard into the entryway with his backpack, and the rest, as they say, is history.

“Those ruffians, I’ll never forgive them for stealing this memory from me!” Rio fumes. I figure this is not the best time to bring up the fact that he’s been coming to school everyday without me for the past month for training. Instead, I pat him gently on the shoulder.

“It’s no big deal, Rio, really. We’ve got the next four years to fill with plenty more memories.”

“I know, but first impressions are the foundation to the future. That’s what Bossman said when I spilled coffee on his rug my first day of training, anyway,” Rio says, opening his backpack. “And let me tell you, this first term is not leaving us with much future to look forward to. Look, we only have three classes together!” He flashes two laminated sheets of paper side-by-side in his hands. It isn’t hard to figure out that these are our timetables, and I can tell by the exorbitant use of neon color-coding and comments in the margins that Rio’s already raked through them calculating the maximum amount of time we can spend together each day.

“P.E., Home Ec. and Health. Even with homeroom and lunch we barely scrape four hours. How’s a guard dog supposed to protect his princess when he’s separated from her half the day?” Rio moans.

“I’m sure we’ll manage.” I reach for my timetable, but a hand descends from above and snatches it out of sight. Rio’s arrival brought back my carefree middle school days so vividly that I completely forgot the previous conversation I was having.

“Princess, huh? Does that mean I have to call you ‘Your Highness’ from now on? And this guy’s your guard dog?” Leon asks, scanning my schedule.

“Know your place, knave!” Rio growls. He launches for the paper, but Leon easily raises it out of reach above his head.

“AP Literature and Composition… you’re taking a senior-level course as a freshie?” Leon asks, angling his neck around the hopping Rio to look at me.

“Yeah, I like to read,” I blurt out faster than I intended.

“I got that much, but APs are no joke. You think you can scrape by just because you read a few romance novels? Most kids don’t even think about enrolling in APs until at least third year.”

“If it’s not a challenge, then what’s the point of even paying this crazy tuition?”

“There’s a difference between a challenge and burnout, you know? You seriously wanna walk that line right from the start?”

My throat dries and my hands twitch. Even though I know the hallway is still filled with students and Rio’s so close, it feels as though I’ve been transported to an abandoned tunnel underground with just Leon there questioning me.

“I won’t know until I’ve tried,” I say, willing myself to meet his gaze. “And I’ll need my timetable to get started, Leon.” 

At that moment, Rio ceases his jumping and looks at me with the same gaze he wore when he opened his rejection letter back in June. “Did you just say Leon… as in Leon Dompteur?” 

Rio’s voice is low and frigid, unlike anything I’ve ever heard from him before, and it pulls me out of my tunnel-trance.

“Uh, is that what the D stands for?” I ask.

“Yeah, bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?” Leon laughs. “You heard of me, pup?”

Somewhere overhead the first bell rings, but the sound is drowned out by screams and splatters filing through the main door. Students scamper up the steps, bobbing and weaving and shielding their eyes, trying to evade the onslaught of what appear to be balloons pelting the entryway, bursts of red exploding on every surface they impact as they rupture. Scarlet ooze drips from the ceiling to the walls to the doors, ambushed students are on their knees gasping for breath, and a putrid odor somewhere in between rotten eggs and sewage fills my nostrils and makes my eyes water. As quickly as the attack began it ceased, leaving behind carnage as gruesome as one straight out of a horror movie.

“Whoops, I gotta take care of this. Promise me you’ll stay out of trouble!” Leon salutes us and dashes off to the swarm of suffering students.

Rio doesn’t answer, he doesn’t even look back. Instead he grabs my forearm and pulls me along with the fleeing crowd, my last sight Leon venturing head held high into the faux bloodbath before we round a corner.

************************************************************************

*looks over shoulder to other wips* yeah I've got time

Tagging: @atelieredux

[mangacat201]

𝐓𝐀𝐆 (𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄) 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

Got tagged by @hedgewyse whom I was very happy to get to know better via this tag game, thanks a lot! Sorry it took so long to respond, I needed to get on tumblr on the laptop where I can actually type up text and I had a lot of things going on this past week that kept me LOL.

Favourite colour: Blue.

No explanation, not particular reason why, it’s just always been blue. All shades from deep purple to almost white. But I have a special place in my heart for the word ‘turquoise’, which I feel is just so the most. 

Currently reading: Oh good gosh, my open doc reading list is so long, I will constrain myself to the most recent things...

“(Love is)The second oldest profession” The 9-1-1 Buck/Eddie pornstar!AU I knew I needed but kept for a special occasion

I’m also reading “Achtsam Morden” a national German bestseller and the first actual like physical book I’ve picked up in probably four years. It’s hilarious and murdery and perfect

I’m listening to “Blood & Paper” by Kevin Hearne (whom I recently got to meet at a book signing event when he was visiting here and a friend asked me to spontaneously tag along - best decision in ages) Love the audiobook version read by Luke Daniels, he’s a whizz with the accents.

“Hide the drums (there’s fire in the sky)” latest installment of the Magical Marriage Ribbons-Verse, the Untamed Mega Saga, for which the author starandrea has been posting a chapter every day since May 31st 2020, so 805 consecutive days as of now without missing ONE. It boggles the mind. (I’ve started reading when the verse was ... oh I think about three parts in, I haven’t missed one too since then)

Last song: “The Greatest Show on Earth” - Nightwish, it’s my soundtrack for my daily yoga practice (no I am in fact not joking), so it doesn’t really count last leisure listening was the soundtrack of ‘Robin Hood - Das Musical’

Last series: Ooofff... ok, so many balls in the air at the same time. I’m watching “The Sandman” of course, as you do and loving it. Also “Extraordinary Attorney Woo” which is THE MOST(tm). Recently finished my rewatch and catch-up of “Manifest” and rewatched a couple of episodes of The Devil Judge with a friend who just started and that I got into it, remembering why I can’t be normal about those boys (and how delightful it is to rewatch with someone experiencing sth for the first time). Of course went down the magnificent and batshit crazy rabbithole that is Kinnporsche. Also, “Tomorrow” which is definitely my fav K-Drama of 2022.

Last movie: Day Shift - Fun and a nice remix of vampire tropes that you don’t really see on top of each other a lot. But it felt more like a set up to a movie trilogy I don’t know if it’s made enough impact into getting, so the premise might have been served better as a mini series? ...The Gray Man, which was solid and enjoyable and absolutely bonkers with how hilarious it was to watch Chris Evans have a ton of fun playing straight up, no holds barred, unredeemable villian. Ryan Gosling can stay... Ana de Armas is queen bee.

Currently working on: My last day of vacation :sob: and of course my WIP/plot bunnie enclosure excel spreadsheet (yes, I do not do things by half until I halfass writing them). Anyway, actual words or plotty thinky thoughts were put into:

- The Devil Judge a/b/o PWP (that has, so far, about 5k of set up and no porn) with a Jung Sunah made them do it scenario and non-traditional dynamics (yeah, idek...)

- Vincenzo Inception fusion - Jang Han Seo wakes up from getting shot to a curious set up of sleeping people around him (really really wanna write this one but the premise is so vast I’m afraid of flaming out again)

- three separate 9-1-1 Buddie fics of varying size and scope that reaches from one’s in love the other isn’t and confessions make things complicated (or do they), the fall out from the truck bombing goes the other way for Buck & the “Eddie deals with his 5B-issues by discovering shibari”!AU (do NOT try this at home-therapy)

- The Untamed - Blades of Glory!AU

pheeeeew. hooookay, wow, that was interesting, hope your learned something about me. I’mma tag some people, but please, feel free to participate at your own leisure. @hattalove, @the-marathon-continues-nip , @iskarieot, @themostglorioushour, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels , @fondofeveryprickle, @ahhhnorealnamesallowed, @sam-t-a, @b612sunsets

[jewishranger-studies]

100 Days of Productivity - initial plan

so, i’ve decided to kickstart my new account with 100dop. i’ve done it before, several times, but not since starting uni - in fact, not since i was still trying to pass my a levels while dancing fulltime.

my start date for the challenge is the 19th of December, 2022, and my end date is the 28th of March, 2023, bringing me nicely to the start of my Spring break, during which i’ll be working fulltime for 3 weeks before returning to uni for the last fortnight of classes before exams.

i’ll be differentiating my overall goals for my 100dop into minimum, realistic, and stretch targets, as well as having weekly checklists which i’ll prepare in the style of bingo cards. these will be flexible depending on the commitments i have week to week, with lighter non-course related goals during my January exams, and a shorter long run on weeks i have sports fixtures, for example.

health goals:

gain weight: starting weight 47kg

minimum: gain 3kg (~0.25kg per week average) to reach 50kg

realistic: gain 7kg (~0.5kg per week average) to reach 54kg

stretch: gain 13kg (~1kg per week average) to reach 60kg

improve lower back flexibility: starting sit & reach test score 3cm

minimum: achieve 8cm sit & reach score

realistic: achieve 13cm sit & reach score

stretch: achieve 20cm sit & reach score

improve speed: i need to start timing my runs as i don’t know what time i’ve been running halves in

minimum: achieve 2h30m half marathon

realistic: achieve 2h half marathon

stretch: achieve 1h30m half marathon

academic (course related) goals:

class attendance: i missed wayy too many lectures & seminars (mostly seminars) in semester 1, gotta fix that

minimum: 75% attendance

realistic: 90% attendance

stretch: 100% attendance

read & annotate papers: i read a grand total of 5 papers in 12 weeks in semester 1, so again,, gotta get my shit together

minimum: 14 papers (1 per week average)

realistic: 70 papers (5 per week average)

stretch: 100 papers (7 per week average)

study hours, outside of class: yeah i straight up didn’t do this in semester 1 unless bullshitting assignments at the last minute counts

minimum: 70 hours (5 per week average)

realistic: 210 hours (15 per week average)

stretch: 280 hours (20 per week average)

hobby goals:

extracurricular sports: i’ve spent the last 2 months on concussion protocol so actually training’s been off the cards (i do contact sports), but i’m returning to my darling aerial arts in january and will also be training again if i’m allowed

minimum: 1 aerial and 1 other per week

realistic: 2 aerial and 1 other per week

stretch: 2 aerial and 2 other per week

duolingo & drops: i lost my 500+ day streaks to a depressive episode in february and simply never used them again

minimum: 3 days per week

realistic: 5 days per week

stretch: 100 day streak on each

creative writing: i need to start writing consistently again and perhaps post my fanfics

minimum: 14k words (1k per week average)

realistic: 70k words (5k per week average), 5 ao3 uploads

stretch: 140k words (10k per week average), 14 ao3 uploads (1 per week average)

if you’ve read all this way, thank you so much!! i hope you’ll stick with my 100dop journey (and feel free to send me motivational hate to help keep me accountable!!)