#maybe domestic bees?

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

First Time in Vacuo

In Vacuo, Blake and Yang are sharing their own room while Ruby and Weiss have theirs.

Blake: (naked from the waist up and straddling Yang's hips) Yang? Are you alright?

Yang: (a blushing and stammering mess as she leans back on her hands and her eyes flicker between Blake's eyes and her breasts) Y-Yeah! I- Absolutely! I just... I just want to... Erm.... U-Uh....

Blake: (raises an eyebrow and covers her chest with an arm) Yang... Have you never done this before?

Yang: (swallows thickly) W-Well.... No. I never had... I've never been in a relationship before. You're my first...everything...

Blake: (blushes and melts at the words) Yang, you're amazing. Anything we do is going to be amazing. Don't worry about that.

Yang: (stares off to the side) You don't know that.

Blake: I do, though. Because I know you'll do everything in your power to make me feel safe, loved, and very well taken care of.

Yang: I mean... Yeah... I feel like it'd be a dick move if I did anything but all that.

Blake: (squealing with excitement mentally)

Yang: I just... don't know... what to do.

Blake: That's the best part. We get to learn what we like together. (gently grabs Yang's hand and gives it a tender kiss) Do you trust me?

Yang: With my life.

Blake: (trying to keep herself from squealing and gently cups Yang's palm against her bare breast) Then let me lead this time. I'll show you.

Yang: (eyes zero in on her hand as she swallows nervously) A-Alright....

[headspace-hotel]

The knowledge of some common plants

Since many people don't know most of the plants around them, this is information on some plants that are commonly seen in many places throughout the world

This is Lamium purpureum, also called Purple Deadnettle.

It's called deadnettle because it looks like a nettle but it doesn't sting you

This plant is a winter annual—it grows its leaves in the fall, lasts through the winter, and blooms and dies in the spring

Its pollen is reddish orange. If you see bees with their heads stained reddish orange, it is likely because they have visited Purple Deadnettle

This is Trifolium repens, white clover

It is a legume (belongs to the bean family) and fixes nitrogen using symbiosis with bacteria that live in little nodules on its roots, fertilizing the soil

It is a good companion plant for the other members of a lawn or garden since it is tough, adaptable, and improves soil quality. According to my professor it used to be in lawn mixes, until chemical companies wanted to sell a new herbicide that would kill broadleaved plants and spare grass, and it was slandered as a weed :(

It is native only to Europe and Central Asia, but in the lawns they are doing more good than harm most places

Honeybees love to visit clover

Four-leaf clovers are said to be lucky

This is Achillea millefolium, Common Yarrow

It has had a relationship with humans since Neanderthals were around, at least 60,000 years, since Neanderthals have been found buried with Yarrow

Its leaves have been used to stop bleeding throughout history, and its scientific name comes from how Achilles was said to have used Yarrow to stop the blood from the wounds of his soldiers. A leaf rolled into a ball has been used to stop nosebleeds

It is a native species all throughout Eurasia and North America

This is Cichorium intybus, known as Chicory

The leaves look a lot like dandelion leaves, until in mid-spring when it begins growing a woody green stem straight up into the air

Like many other weeds, it has a symbiotic relationship with humans, existing in a mix of domesticated or partially domesticated and wild populations

It is native to Eurasia, but widespread in North America on roadsides and disturbed places, where it descended from cultivated plants

Its root contains large amounts of inulin, which is used as a sweetener and fiber supplement (if you look at the ingredients on the granola bars that have extra fiber, they usually are partly made of chicory root) and has also been used as a coffee substitute

A large variety of bees like to feed upon it

This is Phytolacca americana, known as Pokeweed

It is easily identified by its huge leaves and its waxy, bright magenta stem

It can grow more than nine feet tall from a sprout in a single summer!

If you squish the berries, the juice inside is a shocking magenta that is so bright it almost burns your eyes. For this reason many Native American people used it for pink and purple dye.

It is a heavy metal hyperaccumulator, particularly good for removing cadmium from the soil

All parts of the plant are poisonous and will make you very sick if you eat them, however if the leaves are picked when very young and boiled 3 times, changing out the water each time, they can be eaten, and this is a traditional food in the rural American Southeast, but I don't want to chance it

British people have introduced it as a pretty, exotic ornamental plant. I think that is very funny considering that here it is a weed associated with places where poor people live, but maybe they're right and I need to look closer to see the beauty.

If you see magenta stains in bird poop it is because they ate pokeweed berries- birds can safely eat the berries whereas humans cannot

This is Plantago lanceolata, Ribwort Plantain

It grows in heavily disturbed soils, in fact it is considered an indicator of agricultural activity. It is successful in the poorest, heaviest and most compacted soil.

The leaves, seeds, and flower heads are said to be edible but the leaves are really stringy unless they are very young. Of course, it is important to be careful when eating wild plants, and make sure you have identified the plant correctly and the soil is not contaminated

I have also heard the strings in the leaves can be extracted and used for textile purposes

and that's some common plants you might often see throughout the world

[zooophagous]

I see a post, that asks the question "you are now married to your phone background, how fucked are you?"

I close the app and look. When was the last time I considered my phone background? I can't even remember it.

On the screen before me is a purple wildflower, a bergamot, or "bee balm" plant, photographed in North Dakota in 2019 in a family member's back yard.

I am married to a bergamot. She is tall and shapely, moreso than myself, though her choice of purple raiments matched closely my own. She is my favorite color. Maybe that's how we met? Why I decided to woo her?

My wife the bergamot is a socialite. She has more friends than I. Every morning she gossips with a cabbage white butterfly, and cruelly shares their secrets with the rusty patched bumblebees, who compete for her affections with the domesticated aapis mellifera, which trail at her purple coattails like lapdogs.

Her favorite friend, however, is the ruby throated hummingbird. More insect than avian though it does contain a vertebral column, it iridesces like green beetle wings and in my heart I feel jealousy as my bergamot bride and the hummingbird kiss.

I sit with her for a season. Under the sun and the heat and the biting flies. She is covered in dewdrops and in spiders. I spare her from caterpillars and lavish my affections on her with a cup of water.

The world turns at last to its cool side, my bergamot changes her purple coat to her dusty toned night gown. She lies down to sleep and is buried beneath a bed of fresh snow come October.

Love so fleeting, marriage so brief, could I forget my bergamot and move on? Could my love be perennial and evergreen even when my beloved is not? It is winter and my bride is dead. How fucked am I?

[minisugakoobies]

Paradise | JJK - Epilogue

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: it's happy ending time!, lots of domestic cuteness, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), shower sex, teasing, dirty talk, someone gets a lap dance 👀, sex in the champagne room, aka sex at work (don't be that coworker!), unprotected sex (monogamous relationship with alternate bc), multiple orgasms

Word Count: 9.1k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: And now we've reached the end! I can't believe it's been three years this month since OC and Jungkook's story began!! A gigantic THANK YOU to everyone who has liked, commented, reblogged, recommended, and/or sent asks about Paradise. This is for you! 💜

Unbeta’d as usual. Please don’t be a silent reader, I’d love to hear from you!  Tell me what you think of the ending! 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist

Bzzzzzzt

Saturday afternoon dawns bright. You can hear birds chirping outside the windows, joined by the buzzing of bees.

Those are some loud fucking bees.

No wait, that’s your phone.

Bzzzzzzt

You grab it off the nightstand.

Huh, nope. No missed texts or calls.

Bzzzzzzt

What the hell is that sound?

Throwing back the covers, you lug yourself out of bed, snatch a t-shirt from the floor and yank it on, and traipse down the hall, following the incessant hum.

Bzzzzzzt

The noise leads you to the bathroom, where your boyfriend stands over the sink, examining himself in the mirror. 

“Hey, jagi,” Jungkook greets you warmly. “Did I wake you? Sorry.” He leans over, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

“No, it wasn’t you. I heard some sort of buzzing.”

“Ah, yeah, that was me.” He holds up some sort of metallic grey tool. An electric razor? But he doesn’t have one of those. You know by now that he waxes for his job, and what little hair ever appears on his face he takes care of with a simple disposable razor. “Testing this out.”

“I didn’t know you had one of those,” you say, leaning against the doorway. 

“I don’t. Namjoon-hyung let me borrow it.” He tilts his head left and right, staring at his reflection.

“Borrow it for wh-oooh my god, Kookie, no!” 

Your question becomes a wild wail as your boyfriend brandishes the razor and in one swift move shaves off a chunk of his hair. Watching the dark locks tumble into the sink feels like a scene from a horror movie, unfurling in slow motion.

You glance at Jungkook. Where glorious waves once adorned the side of his handsome face, there is now naught but stubble. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook chuckles as he examines his handiwork. “What’s wrong, jagiya? You don’t want to see a fresh new me?”

“Not if it means sacrificing your gorgeous hair!” you pout.

Of course you love all of your boyfriend. Goes without saying. But his hair! It’s so pretty and thick and silky and fluffy and - 

-and he’s going to shave it all off??

Bzzzzzzt

Another swath joins the first. Two sad curls at the bottom of the sink. 

“Kookie, why?” you lament. “Your pretty hair!”

“Relax!” He laughs, running his tattooed fingers over the scruff that remains where he’s shaved so far. “It’ll grow back eventually. You’re starting to make me think you only love me for -“

Upon catching sight of the expression on your face, he trails off, eyes widening.

“Don’t be stupid,” you reassure him. “I love you for so many reasons. More than there are stars in the sky.”

He grins, turning away.

“Your hair is just, like, 25% of that. Maybe 30.”

“Okay, I’m kicking you out now.” 

“Don’t bother. I’m going. I can’t bear to watch anymore.” You spin on your heel, heading for the kitchen. “If you need me, I’ll be crying into my cereal, mourning over breakfast.”

“Could you mourn me up a smoothie while you’re at it?” 

As you raise your hand over your head to flip him off, he giggles, pausing in his task to admire the way your ass peeks out from under the t-shirt of his that you’re wearing, before disappearing back into the bathroom.

In the kitchen, you quickly whip up a banana smoothie, appreciating how the obnoxious whirr of the mixer drowns out the evil buzzing echoing down the hallway. Sticking the smoothie into the fridge to keep cold until your boyfriend finishes murdering his hair, you sit down to enjoy a bowl of your favorite sugary cereal.

It hasn’t taken much for you to acclimate to Jungkook’s schedule over the last few months since Jennie’s wedding. You’ve all but moved in, hanging around his apartment (usually napping) until he gets home from work in the early hours of the morning. Most of the time, you stay up for a bit, talking and helping him unwind (sometimes fucking, sometimes giving him a gentle massage to soothe his muscles, sometimes just letting him lay with his head on your chest). Usually near dawn you fall asleep, and then wake at noon to spend the afternoon together until he leaves for Paradise in the evening. 

So you've become accustomed to a midday bowl of cereal by now. Of course, it helps that you’re no longer bound to the 9-to-5 life, ever since you quit your job.

The bathroom is rather quiet for several minutes, so you figure Jungkook’s completed his horrible task. So you brace yourself for the sight of a shorn head - 

-only to be surprised when he strolls into the kitchen with a sharp undercut.

“Well?” He turns this way and that, striking poses as he walks over to you. “What do you think?”

His dark hair is slicked back, revealing a shorn section on each side of his head, perfectly highlighting his brow piercing. Long strands still flow on top, a swoop falling into his eyes as he smirks at you.

It defies the laws of reality, the way something like this can make your hot boyfriend even sexier. How is it even possible?

Standing, you extend your fingers, letting them run over the short hairs, enjoying the pleasant prickle. 

“I think I owe Namjoon a thank you card,” you murmur. The soft stubble tickles your fingertips, like fuzz on a peach. “Maybe even a gift basket.”

His smile grows as he draws you into his arms. “See, you were worried for nothing.”

“I really thought you were going to shave it all off!” you exclaim. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he laughs, amused huffs of breath dancing over your skin. 

“Nope.” He slides your hand into what remains of his hair, lithe fingers encouraging yours to wrap around his locks. “I am thinking about dyeing the rest, though. What do you think sounds better - cherry red or buttery blonde?”

“Blonde!” Did you blurt that out a little too fast? Maybe, judging by the cock of his eyebrow.

“Blonde it is.” 

“Do you want your smoothie?” You reach for the fridge door, but he stops you.

“I gotta clean up first. All those little hairs…” His eyes drop to your lips. “Time for a shower.” It’s an invitation that you’re all too happy to accept. 

Jungkook first steps under the spray of water to rinse away the hairs still clinging to his face and neck. But as soon as you join him, he crowds you against the wall of the tub, mouth meeting yours, hand diving between your legs, opening you up to take his cock. He’s a bit rushed in his movements, driven by a fervent need to bury himself inside you as quickly as possible, but you don’t care, just as desperate to feel him yourself. It doesn’t matter how many times the two of you do this - every time you need him just as much as you did the first time. 

When he slides into you, you let out a loud moan, knees already too weak to stand on. He holds you pinned against the tiles as he thrusts into you, wrapping one of your legs around his waist to help keep you up. “So good, jagi,” he grunts, setting a fast pace. All you can do is hang on, every stroke of his thick cock into your throbbing cunt making you sob his name, until your panting gives way to cries of ecstasy. He spills inside you then, his lips pressed to your cheek, breathing soft words of love across your skin. 

In the afternoon, after Jungkook has gone to meet Namjoon at the gym, you decide to take a walk downtown to get a little work done. It’s surprising to you how much has changed in the last few months. Before, the thought of working on a Saturday would’ve sent you into an anxious (and annoyed) spiral. But now? You’re not bothered by it at all. Apparently that’s what happens when you like your job. 

Not long after the wedding, you’d gone to the interview Wendy had graciously hooked you up with. Jungkook had helped you prepare, but you were still nervous as fuck. You needed to escape your current company. You needed this new job.

But as the interview progressed, that nervousness turned into a different sinking feeling. Because as the interviewer droned on and on about your responsibilities in this new position, it became more and more clear that you were essentially interviewing for the same job you were trying to leave. It wasn’t a way out. It was a trap. If you took this job, you’d be caught in the same quicksand, dragging you down again. 

Despite your growing sense of trepidation, the interview went incredibly well, and you felt pretty confident that you would be hearing from the company soon. Which left you with little time to figure out if you wanted the new job or not. 

In the end, it was your promise to Taehyung that made the decision for you. His presentation to the bank was a success, and with his new loan, he’d opened his own studio. Even though you’d done countless presentations over the years at your company, helping too many of their clients to count, this was the first time you’d actually felt joy at the result of your hard work. Helping Taehyung to achieve his dream was a special moment.

It also gave you an idea. A week later, you declined the new job offer. And turned in your notice to your employer. No more working for others.

Time to be your own boss.

It’s just a few blocks from your apartment building to where you’re headed. The bell hanging over the door chimes pleasantly as you let yourself into the little shop. Taehyung’s photography studio is technically closed on Sundays, but with the key he gave you, you can come and go as you please. It’s an arrangement that suits you well. 

As you’d expected, Taehyung is sitting in his office in the rear of the shop when you get back there. He nods a quiet greeting, then perks up when he sees the second cup in your hand. You’d stopped at the coffeehouse on your way here, knowing that Taehyung is still splitting his time between Paradise and his studio, which means he’s usually exhausted on Saturdays.

“You really are an angel,” he murmurs, grabbing the cup.

“I know,” you grin, taking a seat at the makeshift desk Taehyung had created for you. He’d been so grateful for your help that he’d insisted that you use his office as your own temporary workspace while you established your consulting business. You were in no position to turn down free rent, but you’d agreed to only if he let you act as his interim bookkeeper. It was only fair. “Where’s Yeontan?”

“I gave my assistant the day off,” Taehyung replies. “He’s back at the apartment with Ji and Min.” He pauses to stretch lazily. “Thanks again for helping with the move the other day. We still owe you and Kook dinner.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you pay up.” You never turn down a free meal, though honestly, it was enough of a reward for you that you’d gotten to watch your friend Jisoo fall in love with her two boyfriends over the last few months. That’s the word she’d used for them both the other day, when you all helped Taehyung move into Jimin’s place. You hadn’t seen Jisoo this head over heels for anyone since… well, since you’d known her.

Taehyung sips his iced Americano. “What are you working on today?”

“Going over the stuff Felix sent me. We’re meeting with the bank on Tuesday.” 

Having Taehyung as your first official customer had been a blessing. After he’d raved about you to the other dancers at Paradise, you’d suddenly found yourself with a whole list of potential clients. There was Felix, who wanted to buy a food truck for his baking hobby and start a brownie delivery service; Namjoon, who was considering creating an urban nursery for the plants he grew in his tiny greenhouse; and Bang Chan, who wanted to discuss the possibility of running his own gym. Even Hoseok wanted to introduce you to a friend of his who was thinking about opening up a male strip club called Outlaws. You’d barely struck out on your own and yet your calendar was already packed.

You pull out your laptop and settle in. “What about you, what’s on your slate today?” 

“Just going over some shots.” 

The other dancers at Paradise were the best hype team. They’d spread word of mouth about Taehyung’s photography and the studio had been booked since day one. Not that his talent didn’t bring in customers on its own. But it was so touching to see the others rally around Taehyung like that. 

The other dancers had also embraced you warmly. You’d already met most of them from your visits to Paradise or the night of Taehyung’s exhibit, but once Jungkook introduced you as his girlfriend, it was like you’d gained an entire family of siblings overnight. And now that you’re on the inside, it’s so easy to see the way they care for one another. No wonder Jungkook loves working there so much. 

Well, that, and the tips he makes.

Taehyung slides over so you can see his screen. “It’s Jennie and Yoongi’s session, if you want to take a look.” 

“Oh, yes, please!” 

Jennie and her husband had recently booked a photography session to announce Jennie’s pregnancy. As Taehyung slowly scrolls through the shots, you try and fail to will yourself not to tear up. Your friend’s baby bump gets bigger every time you see her and it’s unreal to think that it won’t be long until Baby Min is here. 

Wordlessly, Taehyung hands you a tissue. 

“Thanks.” 

After spending so much time with Taehyung over the last few weeks, you understand why Jungkook adores him so much. He has a very comforting presence, which is nice for you right now, since building a company from scratch is a nerve-wracking experience. 

“So, tonight’s the night, right?” 

Again you grin, nodding. “Yeah.” 

“How are you feeling?”

“Excited. But also if I’m being honest, a little scared.” 

Everyone - all of your friends and family - has been super supportive for you during this time, lending their help whenever asked. But no one has been more supportive than Jungkook. He’s listened to you rant about your worries and fears at two in the morning when you know he wants nothing more than to hit the pillow and snooze until noon. He’s made you meals when you were too busy to tear yourself away from your computer to eat. He’s spent so much of his own time taking care of you that you started to fret you’d turned into another job for him. 

But when you voiced this concern to him, Jungkook shook his head. “Taking care of you isn’t a job,” he’d said. “I do these things because I want to, not because I have to.”

You’ve never known anyone like him before. Never known someone who could be so selfless, so freely giving of himself all the time. So freely giving of his devotion, in every sense of the word. You can’t help but want to worship him yourself. 

Despite his claims that he’s doing these things of his own free will, you still feel like you owe him something. A sign of your appreciation. Hence your plans for tonight.

“Why scared?” 

You finish your drink, but don’t put the cup down, twirling it in your hands as you think. “What if I make a total ass of myself?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Easy for you to say,” you snort. Of course he’d be confident, if he were in your shoes. Taehyung radiates an aura of exceptional self-assuredness. It’s difficult to imagine him being rattled by anything. If tomorrow he was told that he needed to perform emergency brain surgery, he’d snap on his surgical gloves without so much as batting an eye. 

“Listen, I know Jungkook. More importantly, I know how much he loves you.” Taehyung flashes you a reassuring smile as you look at him. “There’s nothing you could do tonight to change that.”

The funny thing is, you’re pretty sure he’s right.

Jungkook’s already making dinner when you get back to his place. The delicious scent of gochujang jjigae draws you into his kitchen, where he stands facing the stove, his back to you. Walking up to him, you can’t resist sliding your arms around his waist.

“Hi,” you sigh, burying your face between his shoulder blades, breathing deep the ocean scent of his cologne. 

“Hey jagi,” he hums, a happy note vibrating through his chest as he rests his tattooed hand on top of yours for a second. “Food’s almost ready. Can you grab some bowls?” 

As you reach into his cabinet, it strikes you just how domestic this moment is, getting ready for dinner with Jungkook, like you’ve done so many times before. Thankfully, he’s the one who usually does the cooking, while you help however you can (typically just by staying out of his way - it’s what you do best in the kitchen). It’s unbelievable how easily you’ve fallen into this routine with him. Not a trace of fear in you as you reflect on it. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were gonna be back in time to eat with me, but I made enough for two just in case.” He joins you at his little table, ladling stew into your bowls, before he takes the seat across from you. He’s dressed like he usually is for work, just a hoodie and sweats, since he’ll be changing into costumes all night.

“You’re too good to me, Kookie,” you simper playfully with a sweet grin, but you really mean it, knowing that if you’d texted him that you wouldn’t be back, he’d still make extra and put it in the fridge for you. 

He rolls his eyes, but the tips of his ears betray him, turning pink. The two of you dig into your meal, quietly enjoying the food and each other’s company. 

“I meant to ask you,” he says after a few minutes, “do you know when Jin-hyung will be back in town?” 

When you’d called things off with Seokjin, you’d made him promise to keep in touch while he was out traveling for his cooking show. He’d taken that pledge to heart, texting you brief updates and sending photos from the road. You’re glad to have made another friend from this whole experience. Especially one whose name you can drop to make hard-to-get dinner reservations. (Seokjin gets a real ego boost when you do that - he’s the one who suggested it in the first place.)

Though things had gotten off to a rocky start between Jungkook and Seokjin, they’d become fairly good friends themselves. It doesn’t really surprise you, since they have more in common than they thought (not even counting you) - both are talented and determined, funny and handsome, not to mention both give a hell of a lap dance. Also, it’s hard not to love Jungkook, no matter how you meet him. 

“Um, I think last time I heard from him, he said he’d be back in two weeks for a short break.”

“Good. That should give me enough time to finish.” He doesn’t say anything else, but you can read between the lines so well with him by now. 

“Jin’s going to love his portrait,” you reassure him. 

As soon as Seokjin had seen Jungkook’s artwork, he’d wasted no time in commissioning the younger man to paint his portrait, to be hung in his newest restaurant. You know that Jungkook is thrilled at the opportunity, but he’s also a little nervous, wanting to impress Seokjin. It’s pretty cute, truth be told. 

You glance up to find Jungkook watching you with a small smile. 

“What? What are you looking at? Am I a mess?” You grab your napkin, dabbing at your face, but he shakes his head. 

“Nothing. I’m happy you’re here. I feel like I’ve barely seen you the last few weeks, you’ve been out working so much.” 

“Oh, right.” You scratch your ear, giving him an apologetic look. “I know, I’ve been busy.”

“I’m not saying that’s bad!” Jungkook raises his hands. “I just… missed you.” 

“Kookie,” you sigh, heart bubbling over with fondness. Your boyfriend is such a sap.

You set down your spoon and rise to your feet, locking your arms around him. He looks up at you with so much love in his eyes you nearly pinch yourself. But you don’t have to. This isn’t a dream, it’s your life. Silently, you thank the universe for everything you did that led you to this man. Then you press a gentle kiss to his waiting lips. 

“I missed you too. But I’m hoping all this will be worth it.”

“It will be, jagiya,” Jungkook asserts, cupping your face gently. “I know it’s hard. But you know what you’re doing. And you’re not alone - you’ve got so many people in your corner. Like me.” He grins, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “I believe in you.” 

There’s a sudden lump in your throat, making it impossible to speak, so you let your lips express what you feel. What’s left of your dinner sits forgotten as you climb into his lap, kissing him until you’re both breathless. Only then you’re able to whisper a quiet thank you. 

Jungkook’s right. You can do this. Especially with him by your side.

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:15): Are we still on for brunch tomorrow?

Bestie 😇 (8:17): Yes! I miss you guys

Bestie 😇 (8:17): This baby’s not even here yet and they’re already keeping me busy

Bestie 😇 (8:18): Plus I’ve been craving waffles for days

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:19): We miss you too! 

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:19):  And you too, YN! You work too hard

You (8:20): I know 😔I miss you all too

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:21):  I’ll be there!

Queen Ji 👑 (8:22): Yes we’re doing brunch because YN needs to tell us allll about tonight!

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:23): OH THAT’S RIGHT!

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:23): Ahhhh that’s tonight?!

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:23): Break a leg! 🙌

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:24): LET’S GOOOOO

Queen Ji 👑 (8:24): You are going to KILL IT

Bestie 😇 (8:24): *airhorn.gif*

You (8:25): 🙈🙈

You (8:25): We’ll see

You (8:25): But thank you 😘

Queen Ji 👑 (8:26): Oh no! None of that

Queen Ji 👑 (8:26):  Trust me, you’ve got this

You (8:27): And just how are you so sure about that?

Queen Ji 👑 (8:28): Jimin told me. He never lies

You (8:29): I knew I should’ve asked Namjoon

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:29): As if he wouldn’t tell me

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:30): I like the guy but he can’t keep a secret to save his life

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:31): Relax, you’re gonna be amazing! Just have fun with it

Bestie 😇 (8:31): Yessssss have fun

Queen Ji 👑 (8:32): But also put your back into it

Bestie 😇 (8:33): You should probably stretch first

You (8:33): Yes, eomma, I will

Bestie 😇 (8:34): I’m going to kindly ask that you never call me that again

You (8:35): But you’ll be hearing it all the time soon!!

Bestie 😇 (8:35): Not from you though! 🙅

Queen Ji 👑 (8:36): Sorry, eomma, we’ll behave

Bestie 😇 (8:37): Oh god, *especially* not from you

Bestie 😇 (8:37): Okay I’m out. I’ll see you all tomorrow. But don’t forget!

Bestie 😇 (8:38): 📣You’ve got this! 📣

Queen Ji 👑 (8:38): She’s the best mom

A few hours later, you find yourself alone in an unfamiliar space. A small room, containing only a handful of pieces of dark furniture. Velvet curtains drape three of the walls, while the fourth is a mirror. A crystalline chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the glass reflecting the soft lighting, scattering shimmering spots of illumination around the room as the bass pumping from the overhead speaker makes the decoration bounce.

You wipe your sweaty palms on the skirt of your dress, wishing you could take your friends’ advice and relax right now. Instead, your nerves are jumpy and your pulse is racing. The waiting isn’t helping. 

As you switch seats for the tenth time since you got here (you can’t decide which is a better place to sit, on the pleather couch or the matching chair), you adjust your dress, hoping you look more confident than you feel. Confidence is key for what you’re about to do, according to Jimin. 

Maybe you should’ve thought this through more. More practice would’ve been helpful, too. Why did you decide to do this now? You’ve really got to work on your patience, you think, eyeing the couch again before moving seats again. 

The curtains sway slightly as the door to the room opens. Immediately your mind empties of all thoughts as your adrenaline kicks in. It’s showtime. You sit up, trying to strike an enticing pose, waiting for the man who opened the door to finish locking it and turn around. 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting t- baby??” Jungkook freezes, head cocking to the side in confusion. You knew that Jimin had told him he had a Paradise customer waiting for him in a private room.  “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you grin, suddenly feeling really shy. Which is the exact opposite of what you need to feel right now, if you’re going to pull this off. “So, um, surprise!” 

Jungkook smiles, obviously thrilled with your surprise, and crosses the tiny space in two strides. You stand to greet him, taking in his outfit, a silky black shirt unbuttoned over a pair of black leather pants. He looks just like he did the night of Jennie’s bachelorette party, only with a new haircut. The fabric of his top is soft beneath your fingertips as you lay your hands on his shoulders, accepting his kiss hello. 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but… you know you didn’t have to pay to see me, right?” Jungkook murmurs against your lips. “I’ll dance for you any time.” 

You do know that, because he’s danced for you several times now. Sometimes he likes to get your opinions on a new routine, and other times… other times, he just feels like dancing for you. 

Knowing all this, you nod, smoothing down the folds in his shirt, trying to distract yourself from the way your stomach is tying itself in knots. Relax, you remind yourself, taking a deep breath. There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s Jungkook. 

“I know. But this actually isn’t about me tonight. It’s about you.” 

Applying a little pressure on his shoulders, you push Jungkook onto the couch. He looks up at you questioningly, but doesn’t say anything, merely takes a seat. That’s so like him - to read you so well that he understands you’ve got something planned, so he’s letting you lead the moment. Just that tiny act of deference heartens you, leaving you more sure about what you’ve got planned. 

You walk over to the panel on the wall that controls the overhead speaker. Your phone is already hooked up, and with a few swipes, you change the playlist.

“I wanted to do something for you, to show you how much I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me.” For some reason it’s easier to explain why you’re here without looking at Jungkook as you do it, so you fiddle with the phone a little as you speak. “I know the last few weeks have been stressful, because of everything I’m trying to do, and I just… I want to thank you. And I thought this was the best way to do it.” 

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s watching you with such a rapt expression that you can’t help but feel almost foolish about being so worried about this. It doesn’t matter if you can’t give him a show on the same level that he does. You’ve got his full attention no matter what you do. 

You’ve got his love. 

With that comforting thought, you take a steadying breath, in and out, and then begin. 

Dancing is really not your strong suit, but the biggest lesson Jimin taught you is that it’s not the moves themselves that matter - it’s the attitude with which you perform them. It’s all about setting a mood.

So you let the music guide you. Let yourself sink into the groove set by the drums and bass. Jungkook lets out a tiny “oh, fuck,” when you start to shake your hips. You fight the urge to giggle, biting your lip in a sultry manner instead. You’re wearing a cute but simple dress, something that will be easy to remove when the time comes, but you dance like you’re dressed in the sexiest outfit imaginable, sliding the skirt up your thighs a little to tease him. 

Even though you’re only a few feet away from Jungkook, you take your time approaching him, dragging out the anticipation. His hands rise automatically, reaching for you, but you dodge his grasp, taking them in your own hands instead. Something else Jimin taught you - lay down the rules right away. 

“I’m here to dance for you, Kookie. So let’s get one thing straight - I’m the one in charge.” You squeeze his hands to draw his attention to them as you place them at his sides. “That means no touching me, unless I say it’s okay.” 

Jungkook blinks at your words, but he doesn’t argue or try again to touch you. “Yes, baby,” he says, eyes brimming with adoration as he nods at you, and again you feel a surge of confidence. 

With your back to him, you place a hand on both of his knees, guiding him to spread his legs apart. Then you lower yourself into his lap, laying back against his chest and tilting your face towards his. If either of you leaned forward the slightest bit, your mouths would touch, but you resist the urge, and he waits breathlessly to see what you’re going to do next. 

You bring your arm up, then trail your hand down his chest, across your breasts and stomach, and on to his thigh, just skimming past his crotch. His hips buck slightly beneath you, and you grind in his lap, giving him the friction he seeks. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll touch you all you want,” you whisper. 

Jungkook groans loudly. You glide around the couch until you’re behind him and run your hands down his arms and over his chest. The silk of his shirt is starting to stick to him where he’s sweating. You’ve barely started and you’re already having an obvious effect on him.

It’s not just his temperature that’s rising, you note with a smug smile when you return to your spot in front of him. The tight material of his pants barely restrains his erection. Again you sit on his thighs, facing away from him, throwing your legs out in a wide stance as you pop to the beat. 

“Shit, baby, yes,” Jungkook praises you with a deep groan when you lean forward, giving him a good view of your ass as it bounces. “Where’d you learn to dance like this?” 

“Well, um…” you pause to bend further, nearly touching the ground, enjoying how Jungkook swears quietly when he gets a glimpse of your panties, “you know how I’ve been so busy lately?”

“Uh-huh…” Jungkook responds mindlessly, far too occupied with the sight in front of him. He’s being so patient, keeping his hands at his side like instructed, but the telltale twitching of his fingers lets you know that he’s fighting hard to behave.

You decide to take pity. Just a little. Turning, you straddle him, and grab his wrists. “Here you go,” you wink, placing his hands on your hips. “Just hold on for me.” 

Jungkook hums, vision trailing up your body from where your hips are swaying to where your breasts are now in his face. 

“I was working, but I wasn’t at Taehyung’s studio. I was taking some lessons from Jimin.” 

He looks up at that. “Wait, you were what?” 

The surprise on his face makes you giggle. There’s that wide-eyed Bambi look that you love so much. As the next track on your playlist starts, something a little slower, you shift into a grind, dragging your ass over Jungkook’s lap. He hisses, fingers tightening their grip, almost bruising in their hold, but he doesn’t try to guide you like he usually does when the two of you are in this position. It impresses you, the restraint he’s showing. 

It makes you want to make him lose control. 

You run your fingers through his hair, lifting it off his face, and lean close to his ear. “I wanted to make this good for you, baby. Give you exactly what you deserve.” Your lips hover across his cheek, not touching, but your breath caresses his skin, making him shudder beneath you. 

“Jagi,” Jungkook swallows thickly, eyelids heavy with desire as he peers at you. “You’re amazing. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding these moves from me.” 

You bite back another big smile. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” 

His hands fall from your waist as you spin around, nudging his legs apart. Following the rhythm of the music, you undulate your body down his, your back sliding down his chest, then down his lap, until you’re on your knees. Then you place your hands on the ground in front of you, lowering your bottom half to the floor in a slow humping motion, before flashing him as you whip your legs into a split in order to roll yourself onto your back.

“Holy fuck, jagi,” Jungkook gasps, digging his hands into the couch on either side of his thighs, desperate for something to clutch. “You’re finally gonna do it. You’re going to be the actual death of me.” 

Despite yourself, you start giggling. “Kookie! Don’t make me laugh.” You take your time rising to your knees, then to your feet, playing with the hem of your skirt. “I want you to take this seriously.” 

“Oh, I am, baby, believe me.” Jungkook bites his lip, nodding. His eyes follow the path your hands take, dragging the skirt up to reveal your lower stomach. Meanwhile, one of his hands has found its way to his crotch, squeezing his hard cock through his pants. You’d considered making another rule earlier, that he couldn’t touch himself, but truthfully, you want to watch him enjoy himself. 

“Good boy,” you purr, and Jungkook whimpers loud enough for you to wonder if you’ve tapped into something previously undiscovered about him, but you’re too busy to ponder it any further as you swing your hips, using his knees to help you drop yourself down to the floor again in a low squat. 

The power you feel as he watches you is beyond intoxicating. What you’re doing right now is nothing compared to the skill he displays when he dances, but you understand a little better why he does this for a living. You feel like you could do anything right now. 

As you come back up, you lean into him, hands on his chest, your face so close to his, and this time the need to kiss him is too strong, so you stop denying yourself, connecting your mouths briefly, just enough to have him chasing you when you pull away. Before he can protest, you distract him by pulling your dress over your head in one swift movement. 

“Baby,” he moans, eyeing the matching lingerie set you picked out especially for tonight, his favorite color and his favorite texture, the black lace just begging him to run his fingertips all over it. “Is that new?” 

Of course he’d notice. He’s got the contents of your underwear drawer practically memorized. Not surprising since most of the sets are from him. He’s got a thing for nice lingerie and you’re more than happy to indulge him. 

“Bought it just for you.” With your back to him, you straddle one of his thighs, centering yourself on the thick muscle, and roll your hips in slow figure eights. Grabbing his hands, you wrap them around you, placing one on your bra and the other just over the band of your panties. “Do you like?” 

Jungkook’s answer is a wordless growl as he strokes the lace. You hum, tossing your head back so it rests on his shoulder, and slip the hand over your lower stomach down further, until he’s cupping your mound. 

“Ah!” you gasp, hips jutting forward when his eager fingers go rogue and press against you in a sign of his slipping control. “I - I’m guessing that means yes.” 

“It means fuck yes,” Jungkook declares. “You’re driving me insane right now, you know that?” 

“I think I’m getting the idea,” you reply, trying to focus on finishing your dance and not just outright humping his hand. Tracing your fingernails down his forearms makes him loosen his grip enough for you to climb off him. As the next track plays, you drape yourself over the side of the couch so your back hits his lap, and lie there shimmying to the beat for a few seconds before unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. 

“Jagiya,” Jungkook rasps roughly, tongue licking furiously at his lips, and even though you’re only maybe halfway through the routine you’d been practicing, you decide to skip to the end, because clearly your boyfriend is close to breaking, and frankly, so are you. 

You throw your leg over his lap, straddling him again. Taking his hands, you lace your fingers together, using him as a counterweight to help you dip backwards, so low your head nearly brushes the ground, before you roll back up, pressing your forehead to his. You stare at his mouth and he stares at yours as you inhale a steadying breath to speak.

“You can touch me now.” 

The current of electricity simmering between you suddenly blazes out, igniting the air around you. His hands slide to the small of your back, and your arms loop around his neck, both of you pulling each other as close as possible as you meet in a charged kiss. Jungkook moans into your lips, tongue chasing the sound. Your mouth parts to let him in. 

Jungkook’s hands keep moving, gripping your waist, your ass, your breasts - it’s like he’s been starving for you, like those few minutes that he wasn’t allowed to hold you were an eternity and now that they’re over he must take his fill. Your skin vibrates beneath his fingertips, so much pent-up energy ready to burst, and you seek an outlet, grinding your hips down onto his. 

“Kookie,” you whine helplessly, and Jungkook grunts in response, rutting his erection against you, fitting between your legs so perfectly, the two of you like puzzle pieces coming together to form a complete picture of lust. 

“I’m here, jagi,” he murmurs, lips brushing along your jawline and back to your mouth before continuing down the other side. “I’m here.” 

In a second, you’re on your back, watching Jungkook peel off his shirt before he covers your body with his. His kisses are just as greedy as his touches, and you lose yourself in him, devouring the desire on his lips with a wild ravenousness of your own. 

But as he trails kisses down your body, you open your eyes and stare directly at the chandelier hanging over you, and a thought hits you with startling clarity - oh, right, you’re still at Paradise. At Jungkook’s place of work. 

“Jungkook. Jungkook,” you repeat, threading your fingers through his hair to tug his head off your breast, where his tongue was lapping at your nipple. “Should we do this here?” 

Jungkook blinks at you a few times. “Isn’t this - don’t you want to?” 

Of course you want to. But all those times you’d pictured this moment, your best hope was that he’d enjoy the dance and promise to thank you in private later when he got off work. You hadn’t really considered that you’d do such an amazing job that the two of you would fuck on the spot. (Okay, that’s a lie, you’d considered it a lot. But still. Imagining fucking your boyfriend at his job and actually fucking your boyfriend at his job are two very different things.)

“I want to,” you reassure him, brushing a wandering drop of sweat from his brow. “I just don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Jungkook laughs, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “Baby, trust me, I’m not the first one to do this. There’s a reason “no sex in the champagne room” is a saying.” He sees the mix of confusion and disgust on your face and laughs again. “I’m not worrying about it and neither should you. But if you are, we don’t have to do anything. This has been more than enough for me.”

“So… you liked your dance?” you ask in a tiny voice.

Jungkook lets out a pained groan. “Baby, I loved it. I can’t believe you did all this for me.” His hand brushes over your hip, playing with the lace there. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Not true.” If anything, he’s the one too good to you. “But I’m trying.” 

He kisses you again, slow and sweet. You feel yourself melting into his embrace. Any remaining concerns vanish as Jungkook lowers his head, taking your nipple into his mouth again with a messy kiss. If he’s not worried, why should you be? Besides, as you arch your back, chasing Jungkook’s tongue as he drags it down your torso, only an apocalypse could stop you now, and maybe not even that. 

“You know,” you start, gasping slightly when his teeth graze lightly over the swell of your stomach, “I’ve fantasized about this.”  

Jungkook glances up at you. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I usually pictured you dancing for me, but, um, we always ended up fucking.” A flash of heat licks the back of your neck as you meet Jungkook’s eye. 

“That’s usually how I imagine it, too,” Jungkook informs you. The casual admission of this mutual secret fantasy stokes your arousal. Jungkook flames it further when he ruts his hard cock against you. “Sometimes you ride me, sometimes I bend you over this couch, but it always starts with me giving you a private show.” 

Your breath leaves you in a hiss. “Fuck. That sounds good.” 

“Which one?”

“Both,” you groan, rolling your hips. “All of it.” 

Jungkook kisses your neck to smother his laughter. “It’s not too late, you know. I can make those fantasies come true.” His tone deepens as he speaks, becoming darker. Oh, you know this tone so well. He’s shifting to demon mode. 

“Another time. I mean,” you clarify immediately, not wanting him to misunderstand, “you can give me a private dance another time.”

“Aww, is my baby too worked up right now?” he teases, and this time he doesn’t bother to even try to hide his laughter when you whine, pressing your hips into him again. “Okay, jagi, I promise I’ll dance for you another time. I won’t make you wait any longer.” 

Again he slides down your body, kissing over the soft lace of your underwear. He pulls your thighs apart with his hands so he can stick his face directly between them. His stuttered breath blows hot over the damp material barely covering you. Impatient, you reach to push your panties down, but Jungkook grabs your hands and pins them over your head. “Kook!” 

Jungkook shakes his head at your pouty cry. Leaning over you, he catches your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling it to his mouth for another wet kiss. 

“Let me, baby,” he coos sweetly, and then he takes the lace band in his teeth and slowly drags your panties down your body using only his mouth. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” you moan, unable to tear your gaze away. Jungkook hums, dropping the sodden silk on the ground before lowering his lips to kiss your pussy. He’s sloppy and loud, and in a brief lucid flash of sanity you pray that the music covers the sounds out in the hallway. 

Jungkook always moves at his own pace, in his own time, and nowhere is that more evident than the way goes down on you. He loves building you up slowly, so slowly, until you’re going out of your mind begging him to let you cum. Tonight, however, he’s moving fast, slipping two fingers inside you, getting you ready for him.  If asked, he’d claim it was for you, but the truth is that he needs you as much as you need him right now. 

“Love the way you taste,” he murmurs, fingers spreading you wider, dragging his tongue over your clit. He curls his fingers, smirking at your gasp, and repeats the movement. It feels so good, too good, so your hand snakes out and grabs his wrist, and he stills, looking up at you in confusion. 

“Wanna come on your cock,” you explain.

He groans, reclining back on his knees. “Whatever you want, jagiya,” he says, fingers flying to the laces on his leather pants. He’s used to taking his time untying them on stage, drawing the moment out seductively, a marked contrast to the clumsy way he tugs on them now, trying to undo them as quickly as he can. 

With only a little bit of struggling, he pushes his pants down, then kicks them off completely. He wraps one hand around his hard length, thumb and forefinger pinching slightly just below the flushed head. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at him, taking in sight of this gorgeous man kneeling between your legs, looking every bit as hungry as you feel. 

“Tell me how you want it.”

You clench unconsciously at Jungkook’s command, mind running through all the possibilities. Honestly, you don’t care how, you just need him inside you now. 

So you reach out, gently prying his fingers away from his cock. Jungkook sighs when you take it in your hand, a sound of deep-seated contentment, like he’s been waiting all night for you to touch him. You understand the sentiment, thighs twitching as you slowly pump him a few times, using his slickness to make your movements easier. 

“Just like this,” you say, guiding him towards your slit. He hisses as you slide his head through your folds, and presses forward a bit, helping you coat him in your arousal. 

“Okay, jagiya,” he murmurs. He arranges himself between your legs, lifting one calf, then the other, over his broad shoulders. You shiver, breathless with anticipation as you catch the feral glint in his eyes. “Just like this.” 

A harmonious pair of moans fill the room when he enters you. He waits for a moment, because as rushed as his fingering was, it wasn’t enough to fully stretch you out enough for him. When you whisper, “okay,” he starts to move. The first few rolls of his hips are slow and easy, him savoring the tight warmth of your cunt around him, you delighting in the sensation of being filled so completely. He kisses the side of your knee, staring down at you as you whimper beneath him with every languid thrust. 

When your hands stretch out for him, he leans down, bending you in half to press his mouth to yours. He sinks deeper into you, your bodies locking together more closely, and you lace your fingers through his hair, until you’re breathing each other’s kisses like air. You whisper Jungkook’s name and he sighs yours back. 

“Love you so much, jagi.” 

His mouth nudges your head to the side in search of that sensitive spot behind your ear, and you open your eyes to catch sight of the two of you in the mirror. Even if the room were pitch black right now, you’d be able to see yourself lying there, the way you’re lit from within. Your love for Jungkook burns inside you like a star in the night sky, pulsing bright and steady. 

“I love you, too.” 

Jungkook’s pace steadies, his pelvis starting to bounce off your ass with more speed.

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby,” you moan, watching him piston his cock inside you. “More, please, Kookie! More!” 

Never let it be said that your boyfriend doesn’t listen. He pulls out, getting off the couch, and, with strong hands gripping your thighs, positions you with your hips resting on the arm of the couch, to raise you high enough for him to plunge back in from a standing position. 

And then he gives you exactly what you asked for. 

Jungkook fucks you hard and fast. His furrowed brow drips with sweat as he snaps his hips into you. You know nothing could break his concentration now - eyes sharply focusing on your expression, ears listening for the change in the pitch of your voice. When he feels your walls starting to constrict, he grips your thighs to tilt you just enough to find the right angle to tap your sweet spot with every pump - 

“Jungkook!” With a loud gasp of his name, your climax arrives. Your cunt pulsates so tightly around him that Jungkook clamps his arms around your legs, pulling your ass flush against him so he can grind into you.

“Oh, fuck, jagi, ‘m so close.” His voice is already wrecked, sounding rough and broken. He bends slightly at the waist, forcing your legs closer to your stomach, putting you at an odd angle, but you’re still buzzing with pleasure so you don’t notice the stretch, just let out a low moan as Jungkook starts to move again. 

He bends further, sliding his hands behind your back, and then he lifts you, using that surprising strength of his to hold you as he slides around to sit on the couch. Your legs support you just long enough to straddle him, and then you sink down onto his cock, more than happy to collapse against Jungkook as he fucks up into you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, bringing one of his hands up to cup your cheek. “Always so good, jagi.” You meet his gaze, struck by the love you see in his eyes. No matter how often he looks at you like this, it makes your heart sing every time. You kiss him before sitting up, meeting his thrusts with your own movements.

“Come for me, Kookie,” you murmur sweetly, drawing your boyfriend’s eye with the movement of your hand as it heads down your stomach. Your fingers rub at your clit, rolling the engorged nub around, and the delicious drag of his cock inside your constricting walls has you hurtling towards a second orgasm just as Jungkook reaches his first.

Your playlist begins the last song as the two of you cling to each other on the couch. Jungkook’s arms are still locked around your back while you rest your head on his shoulder. He sings along quietly to the music, his soothing voice wrapping around you like a blanket. It’s a favorite song of his, just as it’s a favorite of yours - the song from your rooftop dance at Jennie and Yoongi’s wedding.

When the music ends, Jungkook sighs. “We should definitely do this again.” 

You laugh, sitting up. He grins at you and you lean forward to press a light peck to the tiny mole under his lip. “I may have booked you all night.” 

“Like I was gonna let you walk out of here anytime soon,” he scoffs. He stops your giggling with his kiss, lips soft and lingering, and you sigh, hugging him close again. 

There’s a part of you that can’t believe you just fucked your boyfriend in a strip club, but somehow it felt inevitable that you two would end up here like this. Like from the moment you walked in here all those months ago, there was no other way this would go. 

It was such a strange trip to think about. You had to go all the way to Paradise to meet the love of your life who lived next door. Fate could really take the most roundabout way, but the journey was more than worth it. 

“You really didn’t have to do all of this for me.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to the moment. 

“I want to do everything for you,” you reply with a shake of your head. “You deserve the world, Kookie.” 

“I have everything I could ever want, jagiya. Right here in my arms.” 

Normally, this is where you would roll your eyes at him for being so sappy, but that’s hard to do when you’re blinking back tears. Instead, you squeeze him a little tighter, so he knows that you feel the same way. 

“You know…” Jungkook starts after a few seconds, then stops. You shake him a little to urge him to go on. “There is something else I’ve been thinking about. Something I want to do, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it.” 

“What is it?”

He glances down, and there’s the shy bunny smile that you remember from all those months ago. “I’d love to paint you.” 

“Naked?” you whisper, hand to your chest, looking scandalized.

He laughs, nose wrinkling in glee. “That actually wasn’t what I meant but I’m absolutely down if you are.” 

“We’ll see,” you grin, kissing his cheek. “One thing at a time. Right now, we’ve got this room to ourselves, and I believe you promised me a dance.”

“Yes I did,” Jungkook agrees, chin jutting out to catch your next kiss with his lips. “Anything for my love.” 

“I love you, too,” you sigh, kissing him back. 

************************************************************************

A/N 2: Yes, there will still be some drabbles down the line, but this is the end of the main story! Thank you for sticking with me! 💕

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2021-22-23-24 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

TF141 taking you on a picnic date 💐

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They're a little very all over the place because I wrote all of them on different days lol

I hope you'll enjoy it anyway <3

Some NSFW for all of them, but it's just a little bit at the very end, the rest is sweet fluff!!

Lmk who you would go on a picnic date with!

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─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

John is such a romantic.

Maybe not the flashy kind, but in subtle and sincere ways. He would absolutely love to take you on a picnic date, he might even be more excited about it than you are.

You know how girls have those dreams of specific dates or scenarios??? Well, boys have that too, and this is John's. He finds the perfect spot, a secluded park with a field of wildflowers that bloom beautifully in the summer.

As ready as he was to organize the whole thing himself in the matter of a day, he'd adore to organize it with you. Write a grocery list, make some homemade goods, pack up the car. The domesticity makes his heart do flips.

"Do you reckon champagne would be too over the top?"

"John, honey, we're going on a picnic."

"Touchè."

And it's 100% fool proof.

This man has something planned for every single scenario because nothing will ruin this for him. He'll hold your umbrella while he gets soaked if he has to.

He hasn't asked you to marry him yet, but this seals the deal for him. He's already imagining going on a picnic like this on every single anniversary until you're physically unable to.

Did he overdo it a bit with the outfit? Maybe, but he couldn't care less about potential grass stains when his white button-down shirt and his beige slacks basically make you drool.

John insisted on a classic picnic basket, but he'll accept input regarding the pattern of the blanket. He's so utterly in love with you it's ridiculous. And when you come down the stairs in a flowy and floral sundress the blood in his body doesn't know where to rush first, his heart or his cock.

"Fucking hell, dove. You look divine."

He makes heart eyes at you but also has a raging hard on. What can he say? You keep him balanced.

John has to try so hard not to drop to his knees in front of you and beg. For what? He doesn't even know. It just feels like the right thing to do with you looking like a goddess. He loves it when he can press his nose against your soft mound all while his forehead rests on your pudgy tummy and your fingers card through his hair.

The drive there is lovely. The sun is out, it's a comfortable temperature, and the mood is high. The windows are rolled down, and you both sing along to music while his hand is planted firmly in yours. The location is even more beautiful than you thought. There's willow trees and all kinds of sweet smelling flowers accompanied by the symphony of busy bees and chirping birds.

After everything is set up, it's the best day of your life, probably. It's so so so nice.

And yes, he did bring the champagne.

Your head is in his lap while he strokes your hair and feeds you bits of cake. It's so romantic that it's sickening. SICKENING, I say. He's just so perfect. You talk and laugh, and it's so fun. T

he day goes by in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, it's golden hour, and John swears you're heaven on earth. You're so pretty, and he wants nothing more than to kiss you silly, frankly.

So he does.

Just bristly and sloppy kisses wherever he can reach, your cheeks, jaw, neck. You shift your position, you're now lying down on the blanket, facing each other. The tips of your noses touch, and you're a tangled mess of limbs.

John wants to fuck you more than he ever wanted anything in his life, but he's a man of style, so rubbing you through your panties until your hips buck away from his hand will have to do until you get home and he can take care of you properly <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Johnny only wants to spend time with you. He doesn't care how.

He'll do anything to be by your side. Such a clingy bastard but we all love him for that. He loves being outside, and now he gets to let out his romantic side, too???? He's sold.

I'm also firmly convinced that he listened in on what his sisters gushed about in books or movies, and he uses that as his guideline for dates.

He makes sure there's a variety of different foods. Let's be honest he probably packed way too much, but he just wants to have options! Frankly, Johnny's is positively buzzing with excitement to get to spend such a lovely day with you.

As much as he loves to laze around with you on the couch, he needs air to breathe. So anything that's outside is an immediate yes from him. He's so so so excited that he doesn't shut up about it for days before the actual date.

Johnny is 100% one to overpack. He takes absolutely EVERYTHING, and you end up not even using half of it.

"I- Johnny??"

"Yeah, bonnie?"

"Why, for the love of God, did you bring a hazmat suit???"

"Ya never know!"

He will pack so many outdoor activities, like frisbee, badminton, a football, literally so much but you don't end up using any of it because he'll doze off as the sun shines down on the both of you.

He just can't help it! Your pudgy tummy is such a nice pillow, and the way your fingers rake through his mohawk and over his scalp nearly make his eyes roll into the back of his head.

He doesn't notice the smiles and nice looks the pair of you get from bypassers, but you can't help but giggle. It makes your belly jiggle, which in turn makes Johnny smile, still face down in your soft fat.

After he wakes up, though, there's a lot of talking that you'll happily listen to.

Corny jokes, overexaggerated stories from missions or his family, and from time to time, he'll get distracted by your pretty face with all its soft edges and kiss you.

Constant snacking. I mean, we all know the boys can EAT, but Johnny is such a foodie. Will eat everything and anything.

He also LOVES Irn Bru. It's definitely more of an... acquired taste, shall we say, but I think it's also very nostalgic for him.

He doesn't care what you wear. However, there are some things that get him feral. Sundresses are obviously on the list, but he adores long skirts. He likes how they flow when there's a nice breeze, and he thinks they make you look very elegant.

He will play into the whole Princess charade with long skirts or dresses.

"There's ma princess. Are ya ready to depart, m'lady?"

He will also bow very dramatically.

Undoubtedly, his favorite part of those skirts is when he gets to push them up your plush thighs and bury is face in your sweet cunt while the fabric is bunched up around your wide hips and fiddles with the hem because his goal is to bring you to bliss with his tongue only <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Kyle loves the water.

I don't know why, but I feel it in my bones. From streams and lakes all the way to the great big ocean. His casual style in the summer would definitely be coastal grandson, too.

So your picnic date would obviously take place in the vinicty of water. It's somewhere in a small park that has a nice big lake with lilypads and ducks swimming across it.

You'd be right by the shore, feet in the shallow water while you enjoy your lunch. Kyle is so sweet and considerate!

He'd bring you a bouquet of daisies and lovingly hold your hand in his. If it gets a little too breezy, he'll tuck you into his side and stretch his jacket over the both of you as much as he can.

He always brings you a new rock from that lake when he comes home from his morning run, and when you two are at the beach, he'll collect seashells with you.

It's all about balance and teamwork with Kyle. He makes the sandwiches while you whip up a quick sweet treat. You carry the basket while he has the blanket slung over his shoulder and your drinks in the other hand!

I feel like he'd really enjoy picnics, but they're not his favorite activity. He likes to explore a bit, just sitting around isn't quite his style. But it's nice to just sit and breathe sometimes.

For dates, he prefers the classic going out to dinner. Getting to see you all dressed up in the gentle atmosphere of a cozy restaurant makes his heart swell. But he won't ever deny you anything. Definitely not something as simple as a picnic.

A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he sees a little duck family waddling along the shore before they glide into the water.

"You think we'll have little ducklings of our own one day?"

You can only match his smile as you follow his line of sight.

"Who knows, maybe."

He pulls you close and presses a kiss to your temple. The picnic is starting to grow on him.

"... did you mean actual ducklings, or was it a metaphor for kids?"

"Both?"

As badly as you want to call him ridiculous, the mental image of Kyle with a duckling or a baby makes your heart beat with affection.

Also does not care what you wear, but he, too, has a weakness for sundresses as all men do. The way it hugs your ass, your tummy, and your supple tits makes him want to sink his teeth into your soft flesh.

An absolute sucker for a square neckline. No, I can not elaborate. You'll just have to take my word for it.

You watch the sunset together, the park becoming emptier as the light fades. He loves how you look during the golden hour and will gently hold your face to admire all your pretty features. Kyle likes that the park now only has the both of you and a pair of swans that swim over the lake like lovers.

What he loves even more is making you ride his slender fingers while the only sounds that fill the air is the chirping of cicadas and your heavenly moans while the remnants of the golden sun shine down on you making you look like a dream come true <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Simon isn't thrilled, let's say.

When he thinks of picnics he thinks of big open spaces, obnoxious people with annoying kids and uncomfortable wooden benches. Of which none are his cup of tea.

So you make compromises. Talk about it and ask what he would be okay with. He isn't the biggest fan of PDA, he's stuck between wanting to show off his love for you to the whole world and keeping it close to his heart like the sacred thing that it is.

But Simon perks up when you mention something about a lovely forest that's pretty secluded. Now that he can work with. Even though he's a born city boy, he'd much rather take a walk in a forest or on a little trail than on the busy streets of Manchester or London.

So he agrees, deciding that your excited reaction and thank you kisses were already worth it. He watches as you prepare the lunch you're taking with you, answering all your questions on what he'd prefer.

The truth, he'd eat rocks if your lovely hands prepared them.

He packs up the car and drives to the car park nearby, grumbling over the fee before it all melts away when he sees your smile.

The walk there on its own is nice. Holding your hand and listening to the birdsong that echoes along the tall trees. Of course, he's carrying everything.

You will never ever have to carry anything with him around, not on his watch. It's his way of repaying you for taking care of him and loving him. He would've carried you as well if you weren't so fussy about it.

When you set up the blanket and just lay down, it's the first time you think you've ever seen his shoulders untense on their own.

Simon's eyes even flutter shut, and his breath evens out.

It's just the two of you in a little glade with the vast green of the woods making your own little sanctuary.

Your head is on his shoulder, and his nose is buried in your hair.

"This.. this is nice."

He speaks so softly as if not to disturb the peace of nature. You can't help but smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you think so. It is really nice."

It's mostly pleasant silence after that with the occasional short conversation, but that's how you like it best.

When you hand him his lovingly prepared sandwich, he catches your chin between his fingers and kisses you so softly that you melt right into his touch.

"You're so patient with me, love. I appreciate it."

"Of course. A few compromises aren't the end of the world if it means you're happy."

He's a fucking goner, okay.

He loves it when you wear one of his sweat jackets or flannels over a nice dress. It's so obviously not yours which signals to other people that you're taken.

And considering the size and color of the thing, it's safe to assume it belongs to that hunk of a man always by your side.

He lays back onto the soft blanket and pulls you onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you. There are a few sun spots shining through the thick canopy of leaves, warming your skin.

You're half asleep, dozing off, ignoring the way he fiddles with his trousers until he pushes your panties to the side and sinks his thick cock into your pussy, having you warm his length. It makes him feel so impossibly close to you and his brain melts and before you know it, he's snoring beneath you, his dick buried inside of you <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you liked it! <3

More CoD and other works -> 💫

[oneforthemunny]

autumn changes |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you and eddie take bea to the farmer's market to pick out a pumpkin.

still on my fall shit lol. feeling hormonal and longing for a child, so a domestic soft dad!mafia!eddie x mom!reader fic was in order bc i said so lol. very fluffy and sweet.

“What about the big white ones?” You pointed across the aisle, stepping towards the wooden crate filled with ‘Cinderella Pumpkins’ as the chalk sign read. 

“Oh, look at these Bea, you know what they call these?” You cooed at the little toddler, bouncing her lightly on your hip, her cheek pressed to your shoulder, knuckling her eyes sleepily. The three year old was still a little grumpy about being woken up from her car ride nap. 

“Baby,” Eddie hissed, closing in on you, eyes scanning the crowds. “Stay close to me, alright?” 

You rolled your eyes. “We’re right here, Eddie.” Your tone clipped, shoulders tight with irritation. You knew his protectiveness came from a place of love, pure adoration and devotion for you and Bea both. Still, it was irritating. 

Eddie’s narrowed gaze pierced through you, even behind his darkened sunglasses. A tattooed hand sliding over your waist, squeezing your hip lightly in warning, the same way he used to when you two had first started dating. It sent a chilling thrill of excitement to your core, glancing over your shoulder at him with a small grin. 

“Look, Bumble Bee, these are called Cinderella Pumpkins.” Your voice lifted in a soft coo that had Eddie’s chest tightening with affection. 

“Princess?” Bea’s eyes lit up, perking up from her sullen state at the mention of one of her beloved Disney Princesses. Though she was favoring Jasmine these days, she was still a fan of any of them. 

“Mhm,” You hummed, holding her close to your chest. “What do you think, should we get those?” 

“Yes,” Bea wiggled, trying to push out of your arms, ready to get down and run around. “Get-Get the big one, Mommy.” She pointed a finger over towards the rather large white pumpkin on the ground. 

“The big one?” You gasped lightly, bouncing her on your hip so she shook with laughter, giggles trilling out in a soft screech. 

“You gotta ask Daddy if we can get the big one.” You muttered lightly, turning towards Eddie. “He’s the one who’s gotta carry it.” 

Eddie’s lips curled in a half smile, your cheek pressed to Bea’s, face to face; the two of you looked so alike. He always told you that. You’d roll your eyes, scoff and insist she was his twin, but he saw more of you in her every day. 

“Can we get the big one, Daddy?” Bea reached for Eddie, practically launching herself in his arms. “Please? I asked really, really nicely.” She curled into him, cheek pressed to his shoulder, looking up at him with big brown eyes rounded so sweetly- a look she definitely got from you. 

“You did ask nicely, thank you.” Eddie hummed, running a hand over her messy hair, tangled from the wind. “What do you think, sweetheart? Do you want one or two for the porch?” He looked at you, already reaching for his wallet in the back of his jeans. 

“Probably two. I can put them on either side of the door.” Eddie passed you his wallet, keeping a careful eye on you as you walked to the front to pay. He scanned the crowds again, letting Bea babble away to him about the different things she saw, humming in response lightly as he watched. Eddie knew Gareth was lurking around somewhere, no doubt scanning the crowds just as he was. 

“Hey, Ed,” You called, breaking him from his trance. “She said they have wheelbarrows you can borrow to load them to the car if you want.” 

“Oh,” Bea squealed, turning towards Eddie so quickly she almost hit him in the face. “Can I ride in the wheelbarrow?” 

“Ride in the wheelbarrow?” You parroted with a grin. “Why do you wanna ride in that, hm? Are you a pumpkin now?” 

“Nooo,” Bea giggled, leaning back to look at you. “I just wanna ride in it.” 

You eyed her playfully. “Hm, maybe if you ask nicely.”  

“Please?” Bea added quickly, already squirming to get out of Eddie’s arms, sending his heart lurching with panic. 

You didn’t seem bothered, pulling the wheelbarrow off the ground, maneuvering it towards the pumpkins. “Fine, but let me load these in first, ok?” 

“Let me get them.” Eddie clicked, reaching a hand out to stop you before you could wrangle the obnoxiously large pumpkin up. “I got it, baby. You hold her.” He passed Bea to you, bending down to lift the pumpkin, hoping his rings didn’t stab it like last time. 

“Are you going to help me decorate when we get home?” You cooed to Bea, swaying her lightly like you did when she was a newborn. You knew she was too old, all the parenting books told you that, but it was a habit- one that soothed the both of you. 

“Yes,” Bea grinned, curling in closer to you. “I’ll help you, Mama. We can put the bats up.” 

Eddie’s heart burst with warm joy at her soft sing-songy voice. For all his hesitation and terror about having a baby, he never knew he could love something so much. From the moment she was born, all seven pounds of screaming baby, he’d been so overwhelmed with a feeling of adoration he couldn’t begin to explain. Everyday it seemed to grow, for the both of you- his girls. 

Bea settled on top of the pumpkins, gripping the sides as Eddie pushed slowly over the graveled parking lot, her tiny giggles and squeals of laughter leaving you both beaming with pride. 

“Mama,” Bea turned, leaving both you and Eddie cringing in fear, for a moment, scared she would fall. “Can we make the pun’kins into carriages like on the real Cinderella?” 

“Sure, baby. I think we can craft that.” You smiled, speed stepping to stand beside her, a hand on her back to steady her. 

“We can put bats on them too so-so it’s scary.” Bea giggled. “Right? Because Halloweens ‘sposed to be scary, right, Daddy?” She turned to look at Eddie over her shoulder. 

“That’s right.” Eddie grinned, making his way towards the sleek black car in the parking lot- bigger than the luxury sports cars he had in the past. Safer now and bigger for a baby, his baby. 

You lifted Bea out of the wheelbarrow, carrying her around towards the backseat to buckle her into place, while Eddie loaded the pumpkins in. The car ride back was much louder than the one there, Bea babbling on and on to you and Eddie about Halloween, her costume, the decorations, what candy Grandpa Wayne would have this year. 

Eddie held your hand in between the console, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he allowed himself to relax just for a moment. He let himself feel at peace, safe in the serenity of the car with his family. 

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | An apology is definitely at hand, and Eddie cements it when he drunkenly appears at your house despite your clear disdain.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, descriptions of depression, self-deprecating thoughts, alcohol consumption, driving while intoxicated, mentions of neglectful parents, mentions of childhood abuse, mentions of domestic abuse, brief allusions to eating disorders, and brief mentions of predatory behavior.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | So sorry for the confusion, I was simply updating the color scheme of this chapter when an error was found in my tag list, which I had to edit. I had to remove the tag list, but everyone who was already in the list or asked to be will still continue to be tagged as new chapters are released.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

You stayed in your bedroom. Not studying. Not reading. Not eating. Barely even moving. The concavity of teals and pastels with trinkets and knick-knacks that constituted the room you found solace in for the last twelve years of your life had swallowed you whole. The bookcase. The vanity. The dying plants begging for life in a personified reflection to your state. Your knees. Your fingers. Your sullen face in the smudged mirror. You listened to the sounds around you. The cars. The birds. The buzzing bees of the blistering spring. So lively, not you. Your father, the whirring indication of the coffee machine that kept him alive, the clearing of his throat, and the crinkle of his newspaper, as if he didn’t proclaim the nastiest words of failure and disappointment against the child he fathered neglectfully. But you had everything—food, a roof, money—who were you to complain, right? Your bladder is full, it hurts, yet you don’t dare to move. You suck in a breath, forgetting to do so innately. Everything has become manual. Your breathing, your thinking, your will.

You’re eighteen, a senior in high school, and you want to go to college. Which one? The farthest one. You’re merely a girl, a teenage girl, a teenage girl deemed a slut because you were nice to a boy. Nothing more, nothing less. Until the next day, where you would be deduced to a whore, because that was the inevitable step for a teenage girl who was nice to a boy. And that’s all you think of. All you repeat. Because you don’t want to remember more. You just want to wait. For what? You don’t know. So you think, you sit, and you wait. Just waiting until there’s nothing more to wait for.

Maybe when you learn to let go, you’ll finally be free. 

-

Perhaps it was the jocular facet of Wayne Munson’s personality that humored the struggling reality of his life, or maybe it was as superficial as he liked to quip an occasional joke here or there, either way, the same teasing line declaring his rambunctious nephew to be the cause of his exceeding aging—the one that always got a good chuckle out of his buddies while sharing a beer or a shy giggle from the tired waitress who worked the overnight shift just to serve him his coffee in the early hours of the morning—was vastly proving to be a coping mechanism, because Wayne Munson swore he could feel a new wrinkle brandishing his forehead as his nephew was on the verge of getting suspended… and failing… and arrested. 

Eddie Munson truly did age the poor man into oblivion. 

“…Twenty-two tardies, fourteen absences, thirteen detentions…”

Wayne briefly freed the indented grays of his head from one of his many beloved trucker hats before securing it back on. His calloused fingers splayed against his stressed eyebrows at an attempt to alleviate the impending pain with a heavy sigh. It was midday. He should be resting for his coming shift at the plant. But here he was, having a parent meeting with the principal for his twenty-year-old boy.

“…Persistent insubordination, frequent public outbursts, and repeated offense of inappropriate comments made against staff…”

That one made Eddie giggle. Oh, Mrs. O’Donell.

“Okay, okay,” Wayne politely interjected with a tight-lipped smile, “I think I get the picture here.”

Principal Higgins scoffed incredulously, as he dropped the particularly heavy file of Eddie’s extensive high school record. “Respectfully, I don’t think you do, sir.” Eddie rolled his eyes, as he apathetically slumped in the chair. “Your nephew has been tormenting the sanctity of my establishment for six years, six years, sir, and he’s in for a seventh after assaulting a fellow student on school grounds!”

“Oh, please, Carver deserved it-”

“Ed.” Wayne gritted with sternness. 

“Mr. Munson, I specifically warned you of the potential consequences of another detention or suspension, and you went ahead and disobeyed my word! Now, charges are being threatened! This is monstrous! Vile, even! Blasphemous-”

“I told you, that jockstrap deserved it!” Eddie sat up to defend his stance, blatantly ignoring his uncle's plea to calm down. “Why aren’t you getting him in trouble, huh?! He’s the one that started all this shit! Going around and spreading lies about Y/N!”

And maybe this is when Eddie should have shut up, because the way Principal Higgins eyes bulged at the revelation honestly kinda freaked Eddie out a bit. 

“Ms. Y/L/N?!” Higgins spit odiously. “This is about Ms. Y/L/N?!”

Wayne blinked between both men. “Who’s Y/N Y/L/N?”

The poor man’s presence had long been disregarded. Once again, this had been extrapolated into a battle between Higgins and Munson, a long six year war that seemed to have no ending. And you, well, you fell victim in the crossfire, left unaided, to die, vulnerable to the vultures of Hawkins High that got to pick you apart free of consequences. Because that was human nature for a small town that capitalized the American Dream with infiltrations of conservatism and conformity for the need to prioritize normalcy. And Eddie Munson was not normal, therefore you were not normal. Because you took his fucking picture. 

“In my years of administration, I have never, and I mean never, have had this much havoc from two students!” It became quite astounding how much a single vein could protrude from a reddening forehead of a forty-seven-year-old man. 

“This isn’t her fault!” Eddie burdened to emphasize. “Why are you always blaming her?! You used to love parading her achievements around as if they were yours, and now that she’s friends with me,” you weren’t friends with him, “you suddenly got your little feelings hurt?! You’re unbelievable!” Eddie sneered with a heavy breath and condescending laugh. 

Now, Higgins had been far too familiar with Eddie’s bite, but the abrupt revelation had the man searching for words that would excuse his exaggerating behavior. “I-I, uh, well, I… t-this- this isn’t about Ms. Y/L/N, this is about you, Mr. Munson, and what you did!”

Wayne had reached his wits end, “Alright, alr-”

“What? Rightfully put Carver in his place? Yeah, I did-”

“Alright.” Wayne’s jaw was heavy with tension as a stern scrape of his teeth was gritted to end the commotion. “Look, I truly do not have the time to be doin’ this, so we’re gonna run this quickly.” He sighed with a hand massaging his stubble. “I’ll have Ed apologize.”

Eddie made his annoyance evident with a loud groan and scoff, as he waved his uncle off. 

“But,” Wayne interjected, knowing his nephew would spew out more words that would worsen his consequence, “you said it yourself, sir, that Ed’s been “disrupting” your school for a couple years now, so I don’t think another repeated year would do anyone any good. Right?”

“I- I… well, I, uh, I suppose so…” Higgins mumbled. 

“Perfect.” Wayne perched out of his chair with a groan from his aching back. “I think a… sincere, heartfelt apology will teach my boy a valuable lesson here.” He patted Eddie on the shoulder before yanking on his denim vest to pull him from his seat. “So, no detention, no suspension, that way Ed will get to graduate, he’ll be out of your hair, and all’s good in life.”

“I, well, I think we’re being a little too lenient-”

Wayne shoved his working hand in front of Higgins. “I appreciate your understanding, and I’m glad we were able to come to a consensus.” Dumbfoundedly, Higgins shook the man’s hand trying to process everything. “Now, I’ll get in touch with the other boy’s parents, hopefully talk them out of charges, and Ed and I will have a long talk as to why we shouldn’t hit people. Right, Ed?”

“U-um, uh, yeah- yes, sir, I’m so sorry.” Eddie nodded, faux guilt casting his face, as he pressed his lips in and threw his round eyes of disappointment to the ground. 

“Well, then” Wayne sighed, “I better get going, sleep’s not gonna catch itself.”

“Mr. Munson, uh, sir-”

“Again, thank you for understanding.” Wayne shoved Eddie past the office door, before sending a polite wave to Higgins, left speechless and open-mouthed, yet no protest could be formulated, as the Munson men were out quick with a slam to the door.

Upon reaching the empty halls of the school, Wayne wondered how ethical it would be to lean against the cold, metal lockers and light a cigarette, because he had no willpower to wait until he was outside. Wayne Munson loved Eddie, he truly did. It may not have been affectionately shown for the majority of his guardianship, but it was there; through every cracked joke, every greasy late-night dinner shared, and every moment when he would miss work, because Eddie always waited last minute to finish the algebra homework that he knew he struggled with, and Wayne was there to help. 

But parenthood, itself, was a troubling journey, and when abruptly placed onto a man who had no desire to ever have kids of his own, it became devastatingly unfathomable. It became worse when the kid in question knew nothing but abuse, no hugs no kisses, simply fists and swears to condition his mind with the wrongful notions as to how to express his emotions. It was grueling. 

Wayne cleared his throat. “Ed.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie was quick to explain, “but I swear, it really wasn’t my fault.” His eyes pleaded to avoid the wave of disappointment he knew he brought to everyone in Hawkins. 

“Boy, if this Carver kid and that girl, Y/N, are giving you trouble-”

“No, no, she’s not!” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, and huffed. “I-I mean, he is, yeah, but it’s nothing I’m not used to, so it doesn’t matter. But her, she, uh, she didn’t- I, fuck, look this is all stupid! He’s stupid, she’s stupid- I, no, she’s not stupid-”

“Eddie.” Wayne was seeing the younger boy Eddie had once been. Struggling with emotions, struggling with words, unable to process and formulate because he was scared. 

“She fucking hates me, alright!” Eddie heaved. “All of this is stupid, and it doesn’t matter, because she fucking hates me! And I can’t even blame her, because I’m an awful fucking person!”

“You’re not awful-”

“I am!’ Eddie sighed to catch his breath. “C’mon, Wayne, you know I am. I nearly fucking failed for the third time in a row, because I have no self-control and apparently no fucking emotional intelligence, and now I may end up getting arrested in the middle of the fucking school day. And she fucking hates me, Wayne, she hates me!”

The quietness of the hall became deafening after Eddie’s tangent. He knew his uncle didn’t understand half of what he just uttered, but it sure as hell felt good getting it off his chest. And by now, a cigarette was looking real good to the older gentleman. 

“I- shit, I’m sorry, just forget all of that.” Eddie groaned, a tense hand running through his tangled hair.

“No, no,” Wayne shook his head, “say what you need to say. It’ll do you some good.”

Eddie suspired. “Look, Jason was saying some really gross shit about Y/N that wasn’t true, and the only reason why they said all that shit was because she added me- uh, Hellfire to the yearbook.” Wayne raised an eyebrow. “I know, don’t give me that look, like I said, this is all fucking stupid. Anyways, I felt bad, he was literally causing a scene in the middle of lunch, and well, I punched him-”

“Well, see, you’re not an awful person.” Wayne pointed. 

“You didn’t let me finish.” Eddie, now highlighted with genuine guilt, casted down to the floor. “When she first took our picture, I kinda yelled at her, because I thought she was just being some two-faced cheerleader, which she wasn’t, but, uh, after the whole cafeteria scene, well, she told me to just leave her alone, and um, I got defensive and called her… a sl- look, I just really fucked up, alright.”

Wayne puffed out a big breath of air. “Okay.” He really didn’t remember high school being this cursory, granted it was over thirty years ago for him. “Uh, well, did you at least apologize to her?” He truly didn’t know how else to approach this problem. 

“Well, no, she got suspended yesterday because of the whole yearbook thing. Highly doubt I’ll get a chance.”

“Well, make a chance.” Wayne waved off simply.

“What?”

“You care that much about what she thinks of you, make the chance happen. Don’t just sit around, do something. And if you really don’t care, then just let it go and focus on graduating and not getting in trouble.” Wayne pulled out his pack of Camels. “Either way, I need sleep and you need to get to class.”

“It’s lunch time.”

“Then eat.” Wayne sighed, as he began walking away. “Just stay out of trouble, because there’s only so many free car repairs I’m willing to offer in order to keep your ass out of jail, boy.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

-

“I can’t believe this! I totally don’t look like this!” Dustin shrieked. “This is a terrible angle! And I specifically told the guy to get my good side!”

Mike laughed with a mouth full of greasy pizza. “You look like the orcs from our campaign.”

“Who looks like the orcs from our campaign?” Eddie announced his arrival, as he took a seat at the head of the table. 

“Dustin!” Gareth guffawed. 

“But, hey, if you really wanna feel better, take a look at Stanley Godwin who literally sneezed in the middle of his picture.” Jeff stole the yearbook from Dustin’s grabby hands. “Poor kid and his sinuses.”

But before Jeff could thumb through to find the sneezing sophomore, Eddie had forcefully yanked the brand new book from his friend. “Where the hell did you get this?!”

“I bought it.” Dustin answered. “The Yearbook Committee is already selling them. But, if you want my advice, don’t bother asking Nancy for a family discount.”

“You’re not family.” Mike sneered with a playful shove.

And in true Dustin Henderson fashion, the boy audibly gasped. “Have the last ten years meant nothing to you?”

“Is our picture still in here?” Eddie interrupted. 

“Yup!” Gareth smirked. “Front and center.”

Eddie flipped through the extracurriculars, filtering through the numerous clubs before his eyes bestowed upon their photo. There they were. All of them. Their faces and names representing the Hellfire title. 

“Hey, how’d the meeting with Higgins go?” Jeff snapped Eddie’s attention. “Your uncle dish one out to ya?”

“Uh, no, actually.” Eddie signed. “Got let off the hook.”

“Wait, Higgins isn’t suspending you?” Mike questioned, and Eddie merely shook his head in confirmation. 

“Wow, you’d think punching his precious star athlete would get you expelled.” Dustin laughed. “I mean, even Y/N got suspended for something less. Wish she was here, so I could thank her for the photo.” 

Your name had sparked something within Eddie. He quickly turned the pages to reach the senior class of 1986, and flipped until he found your face. Your fucking beautiful face. So pretty and proper, dressed in your best clothing, pearls shining around your neck, eyes glinting with perfection. You were perfect. Perfect. Down to the last minute detail. Your teeth, your lips, your skin.

Make a chance.

Eddie tore the page with much fervor in mind. 

“Hey, what the hell?!” Dustin whined. “That cost me forty-five bucks!”

“Sorry, kid.” Eddie muttered, as he stood from his chair, stuffing the torn page into the leather pocket of his worn jacket. 

“Where are you going?” Jeff catechized. “We’re in the middle of lunch.”

“To find Chrissy Cunningham.”

-

Chrissy Cunningham was a lot harder to find than Eddie had expected. She had been in the same lunch period with him for the entirety of the semester, but the one instance he actually needed to speak to her, she wasn’t sitting with the gaggle of cheerleaders and jocks that claimed the best seats in the lunchroom. The girls’ bathroom had been his best option, now he obviously didn’t enter, but after he begrudgingly called out her name through the doorway, he felt like a creep and left rather quickly. The gym was his backup, but after peering through the small windows of the double doors, all he saw was Coach Monaghan loudly instructing scrawny freshmen through enervating suicide drills for the sake of physical education. And the health room was no luck, as the guidance counselor was enforcing teaching the importance of abstinence to a group of girls—only girls—for the sake of sexual education. More like purity culture. Eddie was running out of luck. His watch indicated the mere five minutes he had left before he’d be obligated to endure Mrs. O’Donell. But, by the grace of whatever god may or may not be out there, Eddie caught sight of the strawberry blonde sitting alone upon the writhing wood of an old picnic table just outside of the cafeteria. He walked all around, just for her to be a couple yards from where he originally was. Sometimes Eddie could only scoff at himself. 

Appearing to be caught up in her own world, Eddie’s heavy footsteps went unnoticed, until he materialized into her peripheral, a startled shriek making him surrender with hands up in the air. 

“Woah, hey, sorry.” He raucously chuckled, looking around to make sure no one could fabricate some false story of harassment against a cheerleader. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

But his words brought no ease to her- clearly, it was just yesterday she was cleaning up her boyfriend’s lip, because of Eddie. “I, uh, I- well, if it’s alright with you, I, um, liked to talk- well, ask you for something.” He softly assured, as she eyed him timidly. 

“Um, a-about what?” Her voice could barely be picked up by the breeze of the afternoon. 

Eddie took it as an invitation to sit down across from her with a tight-lipped smile. It was awkward. He took notice of her uneaten lunch, merely picked apart but not savored—well, as savored as school lunch could be. “So, uh, what brings you out here?” Perhaps an attempt at conversation with someone he never even spoke to was too bad of an idea, but he simply chose the politeness path, as he ask was pretty hefty. “Finally got tired of Jessica’s big mouth?” He laughed.

Chrissy didn’t. Jessica had made a comment, one that sounded too much like her mother’s own words. 

So when Chrissy sadly shrugged, he dropped the small talk and diverted the conversation. 

“Okay, look, I’m just gonna be up front.” Eddie sighed. “I need you to give me Y/N’s phone number and address.”

Her thinly groomed eyebrows creased her forehead in confusion. “Um, what?”

“Look, it’s a simple ask, alright, I just need her phone number and address.”

“No, I hear you, Eddie, I just- well, I just don’t know if she would want me to-”

“No, and I understand that, I just really need to talk to her.” Eddie pleaded. “And obviously I can’t do that at school.” Chrissy stayed quiet with contemplation. “C’mon, you guys are friends- or were friends, right? I really just want to make it up to her after all the bullshit she’s been through. Us being partially at fault because of it, y’know.”

Chrissy’s guilty round eyes met his. “I just don’t want her to hate me more.” she whispered. 

Eddie’s mouth fell slightly agape, not knowing how to comfort. See, lying and saying all was good and merry between you and Chrissy in order to get what he wanted would have been his first solution—the asshole way of thinking. But being that Eddie being an asshole was the start of all your misery in the first place, he fought the urge to choose the easy way out and rubbed his face with agony. 

“Yeah, no, I, uh, get it.” He huffed. “And if it’s any consolation, she fucking hates me, too. Probably more than she hates you.” He smiled. And luckily, a sadden smile curled her lips, which was a start. “And I mean, rightfully so, we were jackasses to her.” He laughed.

“I should have stuck up for her.” Chrissy sighed. “She always has for me. I mean, she’s been my best friend for four years. But Jason, he just gets so far into this idea of what people will say and think, and he doesn’t want me or him hurting from others' judgment.”

“So you judged her instead?” He couldn’t really be one to speak on the morals of virtue, as he judged, too.

“I know, it’s so stupid.” She dropped her head into her palms with shame. “And I’m not trying to excuse it, I just want her to know I’m so sorry, but I haven’t had the courage to tell her.” She groaned. “Plus, her dad is really strict and really hard on her to be so successful, that I doubt he’ll want me over after she got suspended.”

Chrissy drowned with dejection. Four years of the purest bond between young girls had been cemented into a cascade of hateful rumors and a lack of clear discernment that severed their loving connection that persevered them through the pinnacle of teenage years. As naive fourteen-year-olds, you both had stolen the locked up booze from your father’s office, and cheered one another on as you took a sip, to ensure you both appeared to know what you were doing when you arrived to Bradly Leminski’s party. Turns out, you both had accidentally drank too much in the comfort of your bedroom and missed out. You’d even watched giddily, as Jason Carver asked Chrissy out, after you ran him through the basis of what she loves, because he was determined to get her on a date. But through the woes of boys and high school parties, you’d both been there for one another through the deepest of tribulations, like when Chrissy called you bawling, because her mother’s words manipulated the way she saw herself in the beautiful dress she’d been so excited to wear for the winter formal. Or when she held you tightly after saving you from the harsh grasp of a senior, Jimmy Saunters, who forcefully shoved multiple shots of tequila down your throat, and attempted to drag you into his friend’s bedroom when you were merely a baby freshman. 

Her comfort had saved you, just as yours did to her.

“Well, I mean, you can’t just not try.” Eddie reasoned. “Look, I fucking hate that she hates me, and I want to at least try to apologize to her, too, which is why I at least need her number and address, please. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you, too, whenever you get the chance.”

The school bell that Eddie had been all too familiar with screeched for the coming of class, and he jumped in hurry. “C’mon, Chrissy, please, you gotta help me out here.” The desperation became palpable. Chrissy turned and watched numerous students flood into the halls through the glass doors of the building. Caving in quickly, she rummaged through her backpack for a pink pen she’d nearly worn through after the excessive notes from her third period. But she simply grabbed Eddie’s jacket sleeve, and utilized the back of his veiny hand as a canvas for her information. 

He’d ache his neck with a contorted twist of his head to watch the fading ink print what he wanted. A seven digit number lined the back of his hands, a small smile consuming his face, but then Chrissy started capping her pen away. “W-wait, uh, her address, too.”

“Um…”

“Please, I swear, if she asks, I won’t say it was you.” Eddie rushed.

Chrissy sighed, before quickly scribbling the number and street name of your home. Eddie cursed under his breath. “Christ, Pinecrest Acres? I got hired to mow some dude’s lawn in that neighborhood one summer, and some prick called the cops on me for trespassing.” He scoffed, and poor Chrissy didn’t know how to respond at the irrelevance of his news besides with an awkward chuckle. “But, anyways, thank you. I’ll, uh, leave you to it.” Eddie saluted, as he headed towards the door.

But then he abruptly turned. “Wait! Uh, tell your boyfriend I’m sorry for the, uh, whole, y’know…” And Eddie laughed, as he mimicked the shocking punch that loosened Jason Carver’s front teeth. 

The entire reason why he hadn’t showed up to school that day. 

“Um, don’t you want to tell him yourself?” Chrissy sweetly proffered. “I’m sure it’ll mean more.”

Eddie could roll his eyes. It was Jason Carver. Nothing Eddie did could mean shit to him.

He winced with a hiss. “Yeah, see, I totally would,” no, he wouldn’t, “but since he’s not here, and you’re the next best thing, I trust that you’ll pass on the message for me.” He smiled so sickly, Chrissy couldn’t see the drenching lies of his words.

“Oh, okay.” She agreed. 

“Oh!” Eddie perked. “If Higgin’s asks, I totally did apologize to Carver, okay?” Well, maybe there was still a little asshole left in Eddie, but at least he wasn’t actively hurting anyone. Yet.

“Uh, o-okay.” She hesitantly smiled.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” He lifted his balled fist to bump with hers. It was telling of the fact that Eddie Munson had little interactions with girls his own age- or any girls for that matter. But she hesitantly bumped him back, nonetheless. “Y’know, you’re a really cool person, you should get better friends.” He affirmed, before waving a goodbye.

“Th-thanks.” She meekly watched him enter the school building. 

While uncomfortable at first, the overall start of the budding friendship between Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson was one to look forward to. While they evidently had nothing in common, it was quite comical actually, they could find reassurance in one another that improvements needed to be made within themselves in order to speak to the one person they both genuinely cared for. You. They at least had that in common. And luckily for Eddie, in six hours, Chrissy Cunningham would confide to Jason Carver to drop any potential charges, and he would listen, because he loved her. 

-

“Fuck.” Eddie mumbled under his breath. He shook the nerves from his hands, and rolled his neck in preparation. “C’mon, you can do this.”

“So, uh,” Wayne snapped Eddie’s attention. His uncle was staring at him circumspectly, as he shrugged on his jacket, “you preparin’ for a marathon, or somethin’?”

“What?” Eddie blinked through his messy bangs. “No, I’m about to make a phone call.”

“Right.” Wayne cleared his throat, studying the newfound nervousness of his nephew’s demeanor, which he hadn’t seen in- well, ever. “Ima head out to work, see ya tomorrow morning.” It was clear Eddie was waiting for his uncle to leave, as Wayne caught sight of how quickly Eddie grabbed the handle of the phone as Wayne, himself, grabbed the doorknob. “Is this about that Y/N girl?”

Eddie’s shoulder’s dropped. “Shouldn’t you be heading off to work by now?”

“Alright, alright,” Wayne mumbled, “just askin’. Be sure to eat dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it, Ed. Eat.” 

Eddie, in fact, did not eat. 

In order to not succumb to the nauseating feeling that was churning in the pit of his tummy, he came to the concurrence that a cold beer would extenuate the ferment that made his heart skip a beat every ten seconds. Now, in typical sense, Eddie had consumed enough beer in his lifetime, that a single one shouldn’t have affected him to the extent at which this one did. But see, Eddie didn’t listen to the wise words of Wayne Munson, and his gurgling, empty stomach rocked him to the edge of tipsiness far quicker than he was used to. 

And before he knew it, his cold fingertips were jamming the buttons to the sequence of Chrissy’s faded pink handwriting, and soon it began ringing- shit, the phone was ringing! Eddie began panicking in place, wavering between hanging up and bringing the phone back to his ear. He hadn’t even planned out what he would say to you. Well, he technically did, it was all that he could think about for the entire day, but each idea seemed unworthy to the standards you deserved, so he’d move on to the next thought, but then suddenly every thought was determined unfit by Eddie. Should he apologize? Fuck, of course, he should apologize, but for what first? Calling you a miserable bitch? An attention-seeking slut? Making a scene in the cafeteria? Yelling in your face? Making you cry? Jesus Christ, thinking it out loud, why on Earth would you ever accept his apology?! He should just hang up before it’s too late-

“Hello?”

Eddie Munson’s knees buckled.

He carelessly gripped the edge of his wooden table, and slowly steadied himself into the chair below. He should speak, but no words were coming out. His knuckle flew into his mouth, where his teeth brandished the tender skin with harsh indents. It was painful, but he couldn’t stop. 

You spoke so featherly soft, too delicate for his usual orotund tone. The one he’d use to berate you. “Um, hello?”

“H-Hi…” He pierced out, immediately cringing at the sudden loudness he uncontrollably spoke in. “It’s, uh- well, it’s me, um… Eddie.”

It was dead quiet for what felt like an eternity. 

No word, no squeak, no air. You were obviously holding your breath, and the mere thought was tearing at Eddie’s heart. “Please.” It came out so weak. “Please, Eddie, I don’t wanna start anything.” 

His stomach dropped, and his hands shook with how scared you sounded. You were scared of him. In the couple of instances he interacted with you, he scared you. Because to you, he brought harm. It may not have been physical, but it was detrimental, nonetheless. And you were scared. He was becoming the sole person he did not want to become, because he knew what it was like to be scared. 

“No, no, sweetheart,” he let out a shaky sigh, “I’m not gonna do anything. I promise.” He wanted to profusely vomit. It was the same words his dad had uttered to his bruised mom in order to sweet talk her out of leaving.

“I told you to leave me alone, Eddie.” You choked quietly. It was dinner. Your father was downstairs enjoying his takeout. Not yours. He stopped caring to ask the minute you refused to leave your bedroom. “I don’t even care how you got my number, but I need you to not call-”

“No, I know, sweetheart, but I really just need to talk to you.” His knuckles were casting white upon the tight grip he clutched the phone, as his lips brushed the bottom speaker in whispers. His other hand began insistently picking at the old wood of the kitchen table. Wayne would have a word with him about that. “I- what I did, I really need to tell that I’m sorry, because I truly am sor-”

“Eddie,” You gently interrupted, no energy to scream at him like your mind was begging you to do, “I don’t want your apology.” You sniffled. “If it really meant that much to you, you would have never done it to begin with, because I- I would have never done this to you. I would have never done this to you.”

His eyes clenched shut to mitigate the profound stinging of his eyes from the welling of tears his heart was urging to spill for you. He knew the probability of you accepting his apology was low, but his mother always seemed to accept his father’s after he sweet talked his way out of a domestic abuse charge. This is what was supposed to happen, right? You should be loving his words and running to forgive him, right? It was what he saw. It was what he experienced. It was what he was conditioned to believe. But you weren’t his mother. And he’d desperately do anything to not be his father. Yet everyday, the image in the mirror was sneering back that sickening smile that destroyed Eddie’s childhood. So you weren’t going to run in his arms. You were going to stand your ground, just like he wished his mother had done to his father. 

“Please, sweetheart.” A gritted through his tense jaw, as a tear stained his reddening cheek. “Please.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you, Eddie.” There was no admonish to your words, in fact, you were so demure, holding back tears of your own, because he knew the ugly truth that you were well aware of the fact that if you screamed, he’d scream. And you’d, once again, be scared. “Just let me be, please. I don’t want you near me.”

The buzzing of the cutting line shot his bullet in his heart.

Your voice was gone, and yet, the phone stayed glued to his ear in hopes that he was just imagining it all. You didn’t hang up. You were still on the line. You would take back your words. You would accept his apology. But your euphonious voice never appeared again, and Eddie aggressively slammed the phone back on the hook with a grunt of frustration. The heel of his palms stabbed into his weeping eyes, as his shoulders assertively shook with every choke of his tightening breath. Rejection, heartache, vexation, and patheticism rampaged his mind from any calamity, and before he knew it, the characteristics he so badly hated about himself were being proffered up to the surface of his being. 

In truth, this was the scary aspect of Eddie Munson that resembled the harm he was verbally and physically ingrained with as a tragic child who knew of no hope. All rationale was gone, and wrongful devotion rooted in his deepest fear of being neglected with disregard had overtook his judgment. Standing with all fury, his finger’s strained through the excessive flexing of joints before his balled fist broke through the drywall of his trailer. His knuckles split with blood, but it felt deserving to him. Who was Eddie Munson without the infliction of pain? Absolutely nobody, he affirmed in his mind. He was meant to suffer. 

Chest heaving, beads of sweat pebbled his forehead, and the fridge door broke open. His truculent, battered hand grappled onto the torn yokes of the remaining three beers, hauling them, as his other hand reached for the keys to his van.

Eddie Munson was about to cause more harm. 

-

“Please, jus hol’ on f’me…” His drenched lips slurred with beer, as his hand crushed the empty can he haphazardly threw into the passenger seat, where his growing collection stacked. 

In the grand scheme of things, Eddie knew he was attesting to the predisposition of his role in this town, but he couldn’t help it. A lowlife, criminal, an irascible danger to society. Would you actually accept him? No, you wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t blame you. But he couldn’t stand the pre-conceived notion he’d confirmed about himself to you, and he was in desperation to speak to you. Unfortunately, Eddie had panicked, and this was happening in the ugliest, most horrifying and sinister state he’d ever been in. And you would see it all.

As lucky as one can be under the influence while driving, the cracked roads had fortunately been desolate, as nuclear families gathered around their pristine tables to lavish in the draining emotional labor of home cooked meals by their underappreciated wives. He rejected all red lights and street signs, stampeding through neighborhoods, drifting past turns, and steadily accelerating until he’d approached the spotlighted sign of Pinecrest Acres. The affluence—actually the beer and sharp curves—made his stomach turn in disgust. The aristocrats of Hawkins housed together, where they frolicked with no worries in the prolific assortment of two-stories, pool houses, parterres, and vintage cars, all while the struggling families of Forest Hills had to huddle with worn blankets to survive the blistering winters of Indiana. Ronald Reagan’s conservatism sure had an ascendancy on this place. He came to an abrupt stop after his headlights reflected the engraved 630 of your mailbox. “6… 3… 0 Pinecrest fucking Acres.” He mumbled.  

His tire ran over the curb of your street before he pulled the keys from the ignition. For a second, he stopped. His breathing was becoming suffocating, as his chest fervently raised with each depth of an inhale. His hand found the door handle faster than his mind could process, and soon he was stumbling on inebriated legs to the front lawn of your house. Honestly, if your dad had found him, he would have shot him, but the man had driven himself into bed after downing the entirety of his rum. 

Eddie’s eyes scaled the height of the house. “Fuck me.” Maybe he shouldn’t have chugged four beers. He cleared his throat. His joints echoed in a rhythmic sequence of pops, as he pressed and twisted his fingers to loosen up. A guttural groan escaped as his neck was next, snapping it left to right to ease out any crooks. His breaths stammered in unprecedented waverness, as his ears ached through the thudding sounds of his beating heart that seemed to be amplified in his mind. Jaw ticking. Hands shaking. Mouth dried. Body sweating. What the hell were you going to do when he’d shown up without your consent? In fact, you explicitly said to leave you alone. “Shit, shit, shit.” Eddie wanted to cry. Should he knock? No, your dad would call the cops. Would you call the cops? He sure as hell would if a drunk man harassed his yard. 

But then, his stomach sank to his ass. 

The one room that had been illuminated by the glowing overhead light had accentuated your silhouette. You. It was fucking you. In your room. Where you stayed, where you studied, where you slept, where you’d been crying and chose stoicism to numb the pain of everything around. But everything had happened quickly, and soon, you were gone with a sharp close of your curtains. 

Eddie’s legs began working without thought, and he’d swiftly aligned himself with the window to your room, tramping the trimmed garden of crumpled rose bushes beneath his dirty sneakers. Your house had been complemented by the standing trellis that had been wrapped by vines of delicate nature. If there was any sign of either moving forward or leaving, the intricate trimming of your house perfectly starting where your trellis ended meaning Eddie had leeway to make it to your window, meaning Eddie’s intoxicated mind saw it was a passage to see you. “Jus do it f’her, do it f’her…” Regrettably, the rational part of his brain had fallen under the influence, which was screaming at him to just leave you alone. 

As stealthy as a drunk man could, Eddie prayed the trellis could hold his weight, as he began scaling the flimsy wood against your wall. All he could think about was you. Every step was for you. Every splinter was for you. Every stumble was for you. Yet his clouded judgment could not process the fact that you didn’t want any of this. But the bottom of his shoe was already scuffing the white trimming of your house, and he was hoisting himself to stand upon the hipped edge roof. Crouched and begging his intoxication didn’t drop him from the second story, he quietly approached the dormer of your window. 

His fingertips gently caressed the glass with great scrutiny. It was now just dawning on him as to what he’s just done. The danger he’s put himself and others in. The disrespect he’s inflicted upon you. The hurt. The knock was soft, barely comprehensible. You had ignored it, there was always noise. You tightly cuddled a bundle of your duvet, sinking yourself into the wallow of your bed in hopes of willing yourself to a serious need of sleep. But the noise continued. More apparent. More concerning. 

You jolted at the clearest indication of a set of knocks cascading against your window. 

Your heart began racing beyond compare, as the noise followed just outside. It was night, no one should be coming to your house, let alone your window at 9:27 p.m. And the one man you should have had full reliance on was currently passed out in his locked bedroom, where you knew awakening him would lead to a revile of the burden you’d become in his life. He said it when you were nine, and he’d freely say it again if you gave him a headache from his usual hangover. 

But suddenly, the trembling of your body succumbed when you heard it. 

“H-hello…”

Blindsided by the simple greeting, you stumbled out of bed with stupefaction that he would actually show up. Eddie. You ran to your window, swinging the curtains open to reveal him. Round, reddened eyes oozing with plead, as his hand pressed against your window. His heart sank at the look of disgust that his face garnered from you. He hated it. He hates your disheveled hair, your bagging pajamas, your wobbling lip. He hates you. He hates how perfect you were. Why the fuck were you so fucking perfect? 

You made out the shaky “please” that left his mouth. 

Opening the window swiftly, the cold breeze of the night engulfed you, as he helped you lift. “What are you doing here?!” You were quick to spit with spite.

“I-I,” upon seeing you, his eyes had an instant reaction to start welling for the shit he was putting you through, because he knew what he was wreaking was pure havoc in the normalcy of your life, “I just really needed to t-talk to you.” He managed to choke out.

His hot breath hit you like a truck, proffering memories of what a humid house party smelt like. “Are you drunk right now?!” He could only shamefully nod with closed eyes. “And you drove here?!” Another disgrace to his character. “Are you insane?!”

“M’so sorry… M’so fucking sorry, please, I-I jus- I jus-”

“You could have hurt somebody, Eddie!” Though whispered, it carried all the beratement of your anger. “You could have killed yourself!”

“I know!” He wailed with guilt. “I jus- I feel like m’losing my mind, because I need to fucking fix what I did. What I did to you! M’so sorry.” Your hands caught your head in anguish. You hated him, every being in your body wanted to shout at him, and yet, your heart was tormenting at the state he was in. And you fucking hated that you couldn’t hate him how you wanted- how you deserved. “M’sorry, I-I can leave and I swear I won-” 

“You’re not fucking leaving like this, Eddie, you’re gonna get hurt.” You began tearing in frustration.

“Nonono, p-please don’t cry-”

He tried to reach out to you, but you slapped his comforting hands away, forcing him to lose his balance, before you had to steady him yourself. “You’re just saying that because you know you’re the cause.” You mumbled far too low for his drunk brain to process, while you held a tight grip around his wrist.

At an attempt to pull him in, his heavy, limp body contorted trying to bypass your window alcove, brandishing it with the streaks of his dirty shoes, and it took all your strength to stumble him onto your bed with a huff. Having him sit in place, you kneeled in front of him to get a good look at his face through the peering moonlight. He looked beyond exhausted, a testament to the agony of contrition he’s been eaten by for what he’s done to you. His eyes wholly swollen with irritation and tears that stained his flushed cheeks, as everything around him felt like it was burning hot. You couldn’t yell at him. At this state, ambushing him with an onslaught of curses and shouts would only project him into a disposition of vindication in order to protect himself. And that side of Eddie Munson was scary.

“Eddie,” you sighed, as his hanging head managed to meet your round eyes and quivering lips. “You cannot do this again. Do you hear me? You’re scaring me.” He vehemently shook his head, as his hands were quick to cover his face with shame to shield from the embarrassment he was consumed by. You pulled his arms away. “No, Eddie, I need you to say it; that you won’t do this to me again.”

“I-I… I won’t do this to you a-again- m’sorry. I won’t touch you, I promise, M’not my dad.” He sobbed. 

You sighed in defeat. “What- why would you even do this in the first place? What are you talking about?” You pleaded to understand, as tears constricted your eyes. 

There’s so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t know where to start. “I fucking need to fix what I did to you. I didn’t mean it, any of the shit I said to you. Being around is just so nice that I get afraid. I don’t want to lose you… a-as a friend, because- because nice things don’t happen to me, and I don’t know what I would do if I lost-” His breath had caught up to him, making him retch on nothing but tears and snot.

“Breathe, okay, Eddie, just breathe.” You quietly instructed, as he endeavored to follow suit. Your hands softly took hold of his, trying to ameliorate the violent shakes of his stiffening body, fingers delicately locking to find solace within his. And he held back so tightly. 

“Nobody- nobody’s ever cared like you have.” He whimpered. 

“So why treat me like this?” You mewled, sinking your teeth to discontinue the incoming sobs that stung your throat. 

“Because I don’t fucking deserve you-” You were quick to immediately shush him, as your father was merely a couple doors down. “Sorry, but I can’t fucking like you, Y/N.” He murmured through a quivering lip. His mind was spewing his feelings, the one he so badly wanted to ignore, but alas, his intoxicated state was regrettably telling all. “I can’t, it hurts too much. Knowing- knowing you don’t belong with me, I-I can’t fucking hold you, hug you, I c-can’t.”

“Eddie, you could have just talked to me.” You softly cried.

“No.” He looked so terrified. “I can’t fucking hear you ignore me. I-I know you don’t like me-”

“You don’t know that-”

“Fucking look at me, Y/N.” He bawled. “Look at what I’m doing to you. You don’t fucking deserve this. M’not a good person. I hurt you. I fucking hurt you.”

“I just wished you would have given me a chance, and talked to me, Eddie.” You squeezed his hands.

“No, I don’t want to burden you.” He cried with heavy breaths. “There’s things I wanna say to you- do with you, but I should just be letting you live free from me. No one cares about what I have to say, and you know it.” He begged for you to get it. “All that bullshit about communication doesn’t mean anything when it comes to me. No one wants to hear me. No one wants me.”

Your heart shattered at the revelation because it was beyond the definitions of truth. From childhood, Eddie Munson knew he was nothing if not a punching bag to his father, a therapist to his mother, an obligation to his uncle, and a burden to everyone. It became unwarrantedly embedded into a six-year-old boy and vandalized into his twenty-year-old self. He recognized it. Everyone affirmed it. 

You raked your hands from his hold, choosing to sit next to him on your bed, where your arms inundated him into a hug he had not received in years. The last close touch given to Eddie Munson left him weeping with a broken nose. He immediately fell into your embrace, shoving his head in the comfort of your neck, where his cries only amplified with the desperation of being touched lovingly. Your own tears had dampened his unruly head of hair, as you caved into him. His heavy arms constricted you tightly. 

At this moment, you were not scared of Eddie Munson. You’d seen his reasoning and you understood. Not excused, but understood. A lot of people had simply scared him first.

“I hear you, Eddie. I want to keep hearing you.”

-

“Eddie?” You whispered into his curls.

It’d been an hour of nonstop wails of distress, years of pent up emotions, and the realization that his being could be accepted. Even if it was just for tonight. His eyes had endured a rollercoaster of feelings, and they soon gave up on holding him awake. You didn’t move. He didn’t move. A tight hug that was necessary for both of you after heavy stoicism from neglect in your own unique ways. 

You caressed his head. “Eddie?”

He was out. You let out a shaky breath of relief. Carefully maneuvering his body, you gently laid his head onto your pillow, prying his strong arms from your waist where they refused to let go, bunching the fabric of your sweater. But you managed to escape his needy hold. Huffing lightly, you carried his legs onto your bed, deciding to let his shoes dirty your clean blankets. His arms had subconsciously gotten comfortable, splaying out against your mattress, where he fell into deep relaxation in comparison to the lumpy bed he’d succumb to back home. You took sight of the fading ink across his hand, your information decorating his alabaster skin with the all too familiar pink of Chrissy Cunningham’s pen. You wondered how the hell that conversation had gone down. You tenderly eased his arms from the malaise of his jacket, bringing the denim and leather infused with cheap cologne and cigarettes up to your nose. It was Eddie. Soothing the beloved jacket against the back of your desk chair, a small paper had dropped from the nearly torn pocket. Reaching out, you picked up the torn page from Dustin Henderson’s yearbook.

Though, no other student could be seen. It was ripped haphazardly to only focus on your picture. 

You.

Eddie Munson had now seen you, as you had now seen him. 

Softly placing the photo back, you rummaged through your closet to retrieve another set of duvets and blankets, where you preciously placed them onto the floor of your bedroom. Your bed had now been stolen, but you weren’t complaining—that much, at least. You’d quietly taken another pillow from your bed, placing it onto your newfound cushion of the floor. There was a reason why you shoved this particular blanket into the closet, it made your skin itch uncomfortably, but you’d withstand the terrible material of the woven covers if it meant that Eddie could get the peace he needed. 

Because if Eddie was okay, you’d be okay. 

Because similarly to Eddie, who were you if not catering to the needs of others in order to keep sanity in your life. You just wanted stability. True stability. 

Cuddling into your blankets, you heard the snores of the past out man next to you. You sighed. In the mere three days of knowing Eddie Munson, you accepted the emotional labor that came with his damaged self. But that was okay. Because Eddie Munson seemed ready to do the same for you. Accept you.

But how willing were you to tolerate the impulsivity of Eddie Munson who knew nothing of stability?

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | Again, there was an error in my tag list, which led me to removing it. Luckily, it’s been a couple days, so I believe most who wished to be tagged already read this chapter. My tag list will continue, I just simply had to remove it for this chapter in particular. I’m terribly sorry for any confusion.

[thepixelelf]

mingyu slice if life domestic fluff ! 💳💳💳 (im bribing you)

teehee

note: reader took mingyu's last name in the divorce marriage! also, there is slight mention of the pair's sexual relationship, but nothing graphic

[goodnight, mr kim] Sometimes, even when Mingyu's day has been unendingly long and unbearably busy, he still buzzes around the house like a bee at the end of the night. He doesn't know why this happens, but you have your guesses-- things in motion want to stay in motion, after all.

"Have you seen my reading glasses?" he asks you, his silhouette appearing and disappearing in the bedroom doorway as he scurries past it.

"They're on the nightstand, babe," you semi-shout to wherever he is in the house, not even looking at the side of the bed, where you know his glasses are. That's where they always are. You skim back a couple sentences in your book.

From (maybe) the kitchen, Mingyu asks, "Do you want a glass of water?"

You flip the page. "I have my water bottle. Aren't you tired?"

Suddenly, Mingyu's back in the doorway, arm extended and holding onto the jamb like it's the only thing keeping him upright. "Exhausted," he whines with a pout.

Sliding an old receipt into your book, you close it and place it on your nightstand with a smile. "I have an easy solution to that."

Mingyu's face is as cute as ever. "What?"

You pull back the covers in invitation and hold your arms out. "A little thing called a good night's rest. And you'll only get one if we start right now."

A short series of thoughts spin behind Mingyu's eyes before a smile spreads over his lips. Without warning, he breaks into a practical sprint and launches himself onto the bed.

And, onto you.

"Oof--" you grunt as you're squished into the not-so-comfy-as-two-seconds-ago mattress. His face snuggles into your neck, and you smack his shoulder. "Kim, you're suffocating me."

A breath huffs against your skin. You used to call him "Kim" before you got together all those years ago, when you and him were "strictly professional", and you only use it now when you're playfully upset with him.

Now, though, he has the privilege of getting you back.

He raises his head so he can meet your eyes and caress his thumb on your cheek. "Kim," he calls you, loving that little reminder of your togetherness. "I thought you liked a little suffo--"

"Mingyu!" You shove your hand in his face.

Chuckling, he rolls off you and lands on his side of the bed.

"Go to sleep," you say, laughing with him now. "Don't you have another busy day tomorrow?"

He shifts onto his side, elbow bent and head resting on his closed fist. "What if I just quit? Spend the day with you."

"Don't tempt me, Kim." You waggle a finger at him with a smirk. "You know how weak I am for romantic gestures."

He pulls you closer to lie beside him and moves so his head and yours share a pillow. A quick kiss gets pressed to your lips, then Mingyu pulls back with stars in his eyes. "I know. But that only makes me want to do them more."

"Kim," you try to say seriously, but a laugh slips through. You tap your finger on his lips. "Go to sleep."

He beams. "Okay, Kim. But only if you join me."

[scorchieart]

Budget Cuts

Leon: Alright, how about this one?

Chevalier: ...No.

Leon: You didn't even read the whole thing.

Chevalier: I have read enough to know it requires major revision.

Leon: Okay, fine. I can maybe cut back a few orders for the kitchens in Spring, but you'll have to answer to Yves when he—

Chevalier: Not that. Line 39.

Leon: Ah, yeah. That... It's a minor condition.

Chevalier: It does not belong in the budget plan.

Leon: It's just for one day. It'll fly by.

Chevalier: I refuse to comply.

Leon: It's your civic duty as the Second Prince to comply with the wishes of the citizens of Rhodolite.

Chevalier: And since when have the citizens of Rhodolite wished for this?

Leon: The Boys™ and I conducted an end of year survey. One question was: If you could demand one act of community service from any prince next year, what would it be?

Chevalier: Was it multiple choice?

Leon: Free response, actually.

Chevalier: Did Clavis "assist" you in your data collection?

Leon: Listen, you should be honored. And that wasn't even the top pick. But Sariel made an executive decision to veto that one. Didn't represent domestic values, or something.

Chevalier: What was it?

Leon: Jin Topless Tuesdays.

Chevalier: And yet, this was deemed adherent to "domestic values"?

Leon: Give me some leeway here, Chevalier. I'm letting you keep your bit about constructing fifty new bee sanctuaries across the kingdom, even though they pose zero military advantage as far as I'm aware. Aside from maybe stinging invaders.

Chevalier: Having additional sources of food along the journey decreases the need to overpack at the start. Additionally, the honey invigorates soldiers without risk of sugar crash.

Leon: So that's how Luke convinced you.

Chevalier: You need to revise your proposal.

Leon: You need to learn to be a team player. There are only 10 days left till the budget plan is due.

Chevalier: Meanwhile, I am counting down the days until I am crowned king and can veto any ridiculous suggestion that exits your mouth.

--— 11 days later —--

Townsperson 1: Hey, is that... is that Prince Chevalier?

Townsperson 2: Mhmm.

Townsperson 1: Wearing a giant, adorable, fluffy tiger costume?

Townsperson 2: Mmhmmm.

Townsperson 1: And handing out chocolates and terrifying grimaces to the children?

Townsperson 2: I think those are meant to be smiles?

Townsperson 1: This is why I voted for Topless Tuesdays.

Jin + Clavis: Psshhh! Speak for yourselves. *high-fives*

[imagining-in-the-margins]

hi!! do you have any fic recs for non-bau!reader x spencer? i’m not too picky just would love to read about navigating a domestic relationship with an agent while being entirely NOT in that field! so maybe something fluffy (but never opposed to smutty). thank you in advanced 🧚‍♀️

Hey friend! I've compiled most of my Civilian!Reader fics here, although I will say not a lot of them focus on the difficulties navigating the job. For that, you'll find the most luck with my two most popular series below. Otherwise, it's a somewhat eclectic group of fics, which I hope you can still enjoy ❤️

If anyone has any favorite fics that the anon might be interested in, please share them in the comments or reblogs! Self-promotion is always welcome!

S.R. Series (NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI)

The Birds & The Bees (ongoing series): Prof!Spencer, Virgin!Reader. Reader interviews for a position as Dr. Spencer Reid’s Teaching Assistant, and Spencer learns something special about her.

Here to Misbehave (completed series): Spencer meets a girl he can’t get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there.

S.R. SFW Oneshots

Dead Air: Professor Reid is hesitant to be a guest on his old student’s true crime video series, but is surprised to find it’s not so bad.

Defining Family: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.

Devil’s Advocate: Spencer’s been hooking up with the defense attorney in secret. At some point what was purely physical turned into something else.

Fairytales: Spencer comes home to his very tired wife and even more tired child who refused to go to bed without a bedtime story from their dad.

Funny Thing Fate: Autistic!Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.

Haunted: Spencer’s never told anyone what happened in prison.

Growing Pains: Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry. When he confronts his wife, he learns it belongs to their teenage daughter.

Intentions: Spencer’s teenage daughter wants to have a conversation with you about your intentions with her father.

It’s Personal: Reader reminds Spencer’s team that it’s never appropriate to ask someone for their age, even if they’re dating their coworker.

Java Jive: Spencer and Emily take a break at the local coffee shop and she makes an understandable mistake about barista Reader and Spencer’s relationship.

Kitten Love: Spencer’s vet begrudgingly agrees to an emergency house call.

Maddening One, My Goddess: Spencer has a one night stand… on February 13th. The next day, he is confronted with a familiar face on his pre-planned double date.

Not Your Backup: Spencer and JJ argue about her jealousy of his girlfriend.

Quid Pro Quo: Spencer is entranced by the law student in his class.

Rib Cage: Spencer realizes Reader is the one, but it might be too late. He has to find her.

Serendipitous: Spencer’s pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.

Stranger Danger: Reader is a single mother having a very bad day.

Style Theory: Fashion student Reader meets their favorite scholar and teaches him a lesson in self-love.

The Perfect Plan: Reader has a question for Spencer, but things don’t go according to plan.

The Prodigy Path: At a parent teacher conference, Spencer and Reader explain their seemingly unorthodox parenting style.

S.R. SFW Blurbs

At Ease: Spencer comes home to his partner and finds them still asleep.

Birthday Wish: Spencer is sad he can’t reach you on his birthday.

Favorite Person: Reader just needs a little extra reassurance sometimes.

S.R. NSFW Oneshots (18+, MINORS DNI)

Big Bad Wolf (Part 1, Part 2): Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.

Blush: Spencer finds something surprising in his girlfriend’s sock drawer after he’s released from prison.

Cupid & Psyche: Reader and Spencer get kidnapped by a rather romantic matchmaking unsub who demands they perform for him.

Devil in the Backseat: Reader is a little too much (and Spencer's into it).

Get Lucky: It’s 3AM and a pipe burst in Reader’s apartment. She is soaked, angry, and forgot her wallet and phone. Her neighbor Spencer tries his best to make the night not terrible.

I Like It Like That: Spencer is jealous after a rowdy party.

Kiss ’n Tell: Reader gets drunk on a night out with the girls and accidentally mimics her boyfriend’s habit of oversharing.

My Boss’s Daughter: Spencer’s fling with his boss’s daughter is definitely going to get him fired.

Relief in Regrets: Spencer turns to his ex-girlfriend in a time of need.

Rewrapped: Reader tries to be cheeky, but regrets it a little too late to do anything about it.

Rodeo Show: Spencer and Reader weren’t planning on having an audience that morning.

Schrödinger’s Relationship (Part 1, Part 2): Reader finds out Spencer has been dating a kind and cute woman (when he’s not spending the night at her house).

Study Session: Spencer really hates his student, but he can’t resist her.

Vienna: Spencer is a bona fide 40-year-old virgin. After a few months of dating Reader, he finally decides he wants to change that.

Yellow Light: Everyone thinks Reader is dangerous. Probably because she’s Cat’s sister. But is that why Spencer likes her?

Happy reading!

[routeless-writer]

hello, i hope your day is going well! i'd like to request some cuddles with lilia and any other characters you'd like to add. just simple cuddles, maybe some playful moments, pure fluff, if that's okay!

Oh what I wouldn't give to pull Lilia into a several hour long cuddle sesh. Sevens know that poor man needs it, with how busy he is and how much he's gone through. I'm more than happy to give you some fluffy headcanons with the bat hubby, hun, and I hope your day/night is also going well! I stuck with just Lilsy for time's sake, but I'd be happy to do this with any of the others in the future.

MC pronouns: none, GN/implied they/them

CW: reader having hair mention, Lilia liking to spook the reader awake (just a little)

Listening to: Galactic Bloom (Bee and Puppycat OST)

Lilia’s very flexible when it comes to love languages, but physical touch is probably up there near the top of his list

He’s a clingy little fucker, and once he’s comfortable with you, he’ll hang off of you a lot. It’s something he does to everyone he cares about–the kids, his friends, and now you!

He’ll even start to initiate snuggles in public, nuzzling into your side and wrapping his arms around you. He’s quick to pull off when he needs to, though not without a huff or a couple complaints. When y’all get home, on the other hand…

He’s so goddamn domestic. He’s on you like whiskers on a cat and he just will. Not. Let. Go. We’re talking following you to the kitchen, round the house/dorm, and back while his face is pressed up against your back.

The second you sit down he’s jumping on you and shoving his head into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms and legs around you, and making soft purring noises. (Bats can and will purr btw. I love bats and I love him <3)

He’s down for you to nap while he cuddles you, if you want. As a fae, and a nocturnal one at that, he doesn’t need much sleep, so he’s more than likely awake while you cuddle. If you’re also awake, he may poke you or boop your nose. 

He likes to talk while you chill, but if you’re not in much of a talking mood and just want to be in his presence, he’ll read, dm you memes, or rest his eyes. He may also simply make little clicking or squeak sounds at you as a form of nonverbal interaction. (He’ll do this throughout the day anyways. If you squeak back he’ll fall in love all over again. He also does it across the room/house/dorm to get your attention.)

He looooves running his fingers through your hair or having you touch his. He might give you a few playful kisses or nips at your cheeks, lips, and neck.

If you have to get up, he’ll totally complain about it.

“But darling, you’re so warm. Don’t leave me…”

He’s SUCH a pouty baby about it. Don’t worry, he’ll get his revenge by surprise cuddling you later. Sometimes, if you’re asleep in bed, he’ll hover above you and wake you up while hanging upside down to freak you out, and while you’re distracted, tackle hug you.

And then keep you there for hours, once again. Quite a bit of your relationship is spent on cutesy, domestic things like this. Laying in bed all day on your off days, making meals for him while he’s stuck to you (do NOT let him help), cleaning together, shopping together, reading on opposite sides of the couch and looking up every ten minutes to smile at each other…

He’s a busy guy! As a student, Malleus’ caretaker, and more importantly, the boys’ parent, he’s got a lot on his plate, so he likes to spend as much downtime as he can with you. So, if that means trying to convince you with puppy dog eyes to snuggle up with him for another hour or so, then so be it. <3

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ navigation ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ divider credit ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ m.list ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

[fizzbot]

ok im not sure if anyones pointed this out yet, but this is a helluva boss sticker pack that just recently released. its very possible that it means absolutely nothing........but is it possible that these are hints to upcoming shorts???? (personal rambles and theories under the read more)

these all seem really random. which wouldnt be out of the norm for helluva merch, usually its just an assortment of random characters doing random things. but with the fact that we now know that we'll be getting shorts, and the fact that these all seem like very specific scenarios, i think its plausible that these are hints for things that might be upcoming.

the cherubs being here is especially interesting, because we havent seen anything about them AT ALL since early season 1. we know theyll be making a return (presumibly in mastermind) but then why is the merch featuring these cherubs, and not collin, keenie, and cletus? i think its possible that well be getting a short set in heaven, specifically about these characters/perhaps in preparation to the release of mastermind.

as we know from hells belles, verosika will be going on a tour in pride, which presumably sets up apology tour. but in this art shes not in pride, shes in sloth. this is where we know the rehab center is. is it possible shell end up back in rehab/well get a flashback short about her time in there? potentially even some backstory with her and barbie??

the next one features bee, tex, and loona. i THINK it was confirmed somewhere (although i dont have a source) that well be seeing bee again this year, although i just assumed that would be in the finale. its possible that she, tex, and loona will be hanging out again in a short, which would be nice! ive also seen some theories/speculation that this specefic piece of merch might allude to the ship ""honeybunch"" (or bee x tex x loona) potentially becoming canon.

stolas and octavia sort of has me stumped. based on her lines in the trailer, it seems like octavia is still harboring some resentment, and this picture seems like a really sweet glimpse into their domestic life. honestly this feels so out of character for me that it almost made me throw my whole idea about these being potential shorts out the window. im sure they still do have nice moments like this, but i struggle to picture them happening since the only interactions weve seen them have have been negative. maybe therell be a short trying to rectify this? or this could be a pre-blitz flashback.

im partially hoping these are shorts JUST for this next one. i want striker to have a short so so bad. i have literally NO idea what it would be, though. i just wanna see more of him and bombproof :( zooming in on the picture, i did notice that 1) theyre back in wrath. 2) striker is polishing a (not-blessed) knife. and 3), he doesnt seem to be too injured from the escape in oops. although, interestingly, we only get to see the left side of his face. im pointing this out, because in oops, when the explosion occurs, the shot of the fire zooming towards strikers face is a direct parallel to the shot of the fire zooming towards BLITZ face. i think it would be REALLY sick if they ended up with matching burn scars.

finally, moxxie and his mom. this is the piece that gave me this idea in the first place, just because it seems so incredibly random. i cannot even imagine a place where she would come back, if not a flashback short that delves deeper into his childhood. where else would she fit in this whole season? its possible that he has another flashback in the show, but the trailer seems REALLY focused on stolas and (especially) blitzs past, so it feels slightly unlikely. it makes sense that theyd get a whole short dedicated just for them.

idk, maybe im WAYYYY off. i just think it would be nice to get some time away from the main cast in their current states for a while and these seem like some of the best ways to do it

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Slow domestic life with Sebastian

masterlist

word count: 517

-If you don’t work or have a day off: slow mornings: cuddles in the bed, hot coffee, breakfast on the balcony, sunshine, whispering/ low quiet tone.

Sebastian loves to watch you. Not in a creepy way. He notices little details in your morning routine. The slight change in your voice right after you wake up. He loves that every time you brush your teeth you lean on the wall. He loves when you do a little confused spin when you don’t know where to look for your favorite mug. He silently giggles when your face scrunches up when you take a first sip of your coffee.

For the first few months of his retirement the fear of boredom occupied his mind. It was soon erased as he learned how to appreciate the slower pace of life. For most of your relationship it has been long distance. Of course you would try to see each other as much as possible. He would invite you to his races and would always spend his holidays with you. But it was hard- not seeing each other for longer periods of time, not always being there for each other. You both hated it and tried to avoid it at all costs but sometimes he would have to leave for a weekend with an unresolved argument in the air. But now, he is grateful that he can be with you all the time.

-He’s so excited for spring; I imagine him having a little veggie garden, a few fruit trees and of course his bees. There would be an outdoor dining table on your terrace. He would love to invite your family and friends for some dinner and wine.

-Because of all this free time he has now he learned how to cook. He can make dinner on his own but he insists that you should cook with him so he doesn’t mess up anything. Obviously he just wants your company.

-Lewis stops by anytime he is in the city. You and Sebastian always insist that he stays at your place for a few nights. It’s like a little holiday for him. When he leaves you always give him at least two jars of honey. 

Speaking of honey- I feel like Seb would give it away to everyone. Family, friends, neighbors, even a random electrician that came to fix something.

-Lots of sitting together in comfortable silence. Just doing your things with each others company. It’s mostly reading books, maybe Sebastian sometimes writes in his little journal. 

-I feel like he has a set sleeping schedule. For sure in bed by 10 PM but he likes to just lay on the bed for a while before actually sleeping. But I also see him going to some clubs maybe - to spend some time with his friends.

Idk why but I don’t think he would be very cuddly while sleeping. He doesn’t hold you tight, he just has his arm loose around you. If you insist then he would hold you closer but he likes to have his space while sleeping. 

-sings in the shower.

[jwirecs]

Recommended BTS Fics of April 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of april! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Nothing’s Changed || @hoseokhasmyheartxx​​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ You and Yoongi have been best friends since college. The rest of your friend group wants to go on a couples' trip, leaving you and Yoongi to share a room. But to your surprise, your room only has one bed... will the two of you be able to get through the week without letting the other know how you feel?

Boy’s A Liar || @thvhoe​​​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ You have been at odds with Jungkook for some time due to his rejection of you in high school. Likewise, he dislikes you because you are still holding on to him when he is not good for you. When Jungkook suddenly starts dating your best friend, the tension between the two of your reaches an all-time high. However, what if your friend has been keeping a secret from both of you all along? Something that might change everything, opening up a new world of possibilities and causing you to reconsider your feelings and actions.

The Package Thief || @blog-name-idk​​​​​​​💕✅

↳ You have a new neighbor who is incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he seems to hate you for no discernable reason at all. Does he think that just because he's hot, he can get away with being an asshole?

Basketball!Yoongi || @bubmyg​​​​​​💕💔✅💯💯

↳ Anon: hi! i’m not sure if you’re accepting requests or not.. but if you are, can you please write a yoongi imagine where he teaches his gf how to play basketball? or maybe teaching her how to spin the ball on a finger skdjsks (read this one too, shts cute af)

Ditto || @kooktrash​​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ you’ve got everything you need right now, amazing boyfriend, amazing job, amazing friends, but when you receive life changing news you’re not sure how to bring it up to your boyfriend. your indecisiveness and failure to be open with him puts a huge toll on your relationship and he just wants to know that if he continues to love and walk the same path as you, you’ll do the same and ditto.

F*ck Off (Heart.png) || @thvhoe​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ When Jungkook finally decided to take the leap and act on his idea that he has been contemplating for months now; getting a tattoo dedicated to you.

If It’s Not You, Doll. || @jjkhz​​​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Being in an open relationship with Jungkook can make you insecure, getting hate comments daily. But one day it gets that bad you betray his trust, and he makes it all up for you.

Kyoho || @jeonqkooks​​🔞💕✅

↳ You love your grape boy, and your grape boy... well, he might just love you a little too much.

Love Bug || @here4btsfics​​​​​ 🔞💕💔✅

↳ A collection of stories and drabbles with my comfort couple Jungkook and Love Bug as I affectionally call her. They were my first couple to write in over a decade and I hold them very close to my heart.

R U Mine, Bunbun? || @thvhoe​​​​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Moving in with Jungkook brings its challenges, and to make things even more complicated, Jisung, one of your closest friends, has been acting weird lately. Just a you’re starting to worry that your friendship might be in trouble, Jisung shows up uninvited with some news that leaves you reeling. You’re not sure how to react or even how to feel. You love Jungkook, but Jisung has been a constant presence in your life for so long.

Until I Found You || @jooniescaffe​🔞💕✅

↳ your boyfriend plans a breathtaking couple's weekend getaway, there couldn't be anything better than the two of you spending some romantic quality time but what if he has a life changing question to ask you?

Yours To Keep || @ugh-yoongi​​💕✅

↳ Anon: hiiiii my love, can't wait to torture bee for her birthday (because yoongi hasn't done enough of that). little on the nose, but can i request domestic yoongi celebrating a partner's birthday? i just think he'd be really sweet & thoughtful with it love u, thank u <3

Build A Boyfriend || @amethystwritesbts​​​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ When your heart is broken after a devastating breakup and you need a date so you don’t look as pathetic as you feel - what’s a girl to do?

Choco Bun || @nunchiimagines💕💔✅

↳ When you moved to Korea after finishing college to continue pursuing latte art and baking, the last thing you were expecting was to open up your very own coffee shop under BTS Corp, Korea’s biggest entertainment service company for idols, models, singers, and more. Thanks to your hard work, creativity, and approachable personality you managed to become friendly with some pretty big named individuals as well as up and coming talent. As exciting and fun as it was for you, you slowly began to realize how much your 7 bosses weren’t particularly fond of this, acts of jealousy, pettiness, and aggression poking through in the most unsuspecting of ways. But what could 7 big named dragons want with a little foreign bunny?

Close Call || @xjoonchildx​​💕💔✅

↳ burying your head in the sand won't change the fact that the man you love walks a thin line between life and death. and sometimes you can't outrun your worst fears.

I Know Places || @risingode​​​​​ 💕💔✅

↳ you never imagined that reluctantly attending your brother's fraternity party would end up in you finding solace in his best friend, Jungkook. yet you do, and it leads to you sneaking around and beginning a secret relationship, but when Jungkook's childhood friend transfers to your school, the pressure mounts and you start to question the future.

Just Pretend || @darlingwoe🔞💕💔✅

↳ yoongi never imagined that he’d have to make a deal with his son’s shy school teacher; that is, until he’s invited to his ex-wife’s engagement party.

No Blueberries || @gyukult​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ no more!taehyung gets his heartbroken to the point he doesn’t even love his favorite fruit, blueberries, anymore. then he meets you, the complete opposite of the girl of his dreams, and suddenly, blueberries taste sweet again.

No More || @gyukult​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ yoongi doesn’t like your consistent pining, and one day, after finally coming to terms that he will never reciprocate any feelings back, you give up. yet, for some reason, yoongi is the one who can’t come to terms with the consequences of when he says ‘no more.’

The Lingerie Era || @yoon-kooks​​​ 🔞💕✅

↳ Sending Min Yoongi, aka your ridiculously hot neighbor/childhood friend, a photo of yourself in lingerie might be the best or stupidest mistake you’ve ever made.

Tuesdays || @axialitae​​​💕💔✅

↳ you believe your very reserved, reclusive roommate jungkook is a peculiar boy who’s far too concerned with how you spend your tuesdays.

Two Point Five. || @bratkook​​​ ​🔞✅💯💯

↳ who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. right?

Combined Beings || @numinousher​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ You are bullied on a constant because korea’s beauty standards do not fit girls on the heavier side. The bullying gets worse once a ceo is attracted to you and he mentions you to the other 6

Out Of Love || @sweetlike-sugaaa​​​​💕💔🔄💯

↳ Everything was perfect, or at least you thought it was. What happens when you break up with your 7 boyfriends and have to deal with the aftermath of it all?

You Belong || @imnotlauriane​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ Some say you only have one chance at love, others believe that the first one is always meant for failure, but it's a widely spread belief that mates are meant to be together, that they are perfect together, the ideal union...

Sit. Stay. || @daechwitatamic​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Your new puppy, Zinnia, has turned your world on its head. She’s ruined everything from your sleep schedule to your favorite shoes, and you know it’s your own failure to train her properly. When your cute upstairs neighbor tells you about a local obedience academy, he slowly starts to make himself a place in your schedule, your life, and your heart. After your last relationship went up in flames, will his affections be something else you can count as a failure?

Switched || @i-am-baechu​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ There was a rumor through the school of Bangtan that there were seven witches in the school but L/N Y/N thought that was stupid. Being in her final year of school, she could finally leave the rumor behind her and move forward with her life with her best friend, Yeri. Meeting the class president by running into him wasn’t the plan but what most definitely wasn’t the plan was switching bodies with him. Now, what's going on in this school?

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[alpaca-clouds]

"Save the Bees" is not enough

Yo, Solarpunks. Let us talk bees. And yes, everyone else, too. Like, yeah, bees.

See, whenever we are talking about insects dying, people will go "save the bees". And whenever I hear "save the bees", I will just go and say: "You don't get it, do you?"

People like bees. Because bees make honey, right? Yeah, only they don't. No, really. The honey bee is just one species of bees, while other bee species do in fact not make honey. Which is why we domesticated the honey bee, but not those other species. Duh. Because one was useful to us, while the others were not. As such we love the honey bee, but do not care about the other insects that are dying off.

Meme culture tells me, that you have probably seen Bee Movie. And I will now shock you. The movie lies to you! ("No!" - "YES!") And with that I do not mean, that actual bees are unable to speak. Or the fact that most bees are female (if we really wanna impose genders on bees). No, with that I mean the big thing that happens in the finale of the movie of all plants and what not dying off.

For those, who somehow have not seen that 90 minute meme: In the movie the honey bees sue the humans for stealing their honey. They win. Have their own honey and stop working. (Boy, lots to unpack there, eh?) and because of it all the flowers and crops die.

Well, here is the thing: Honey bees are actually not that important as polinators. Like, sure, they polinate a lot of crops and flowers, but... normally they are not the big pollinators, even though we kinda make them to, by shipping all those honey bees around. Other bee species pollinate a lot of plants, too. And so do other animals, like bats and birds for example. And that is without going into the less liked animals that pollinate, like flys. And then we also have all those self-pollinating crops and flowers, as well as air polinating plants.

Let me make one thing clear: You should care about bees. All the bees. (Because hint, the honey bees have the least of a problem.) But you should also care about the other insects that are dying off. Not only because of the pollination, but also because insects play a bigger role than just pollination.

Insects, for example, are important as prey animals for lots of birds and smaller animals. Just as some insects might actually play a role in dealing with natural waste. So, the dying off of insects is a bigger problem of "plants don't get pollinated".

So, why do the insects die?

Yes, part of the reason is habitat loss. You know, your lawn is a fucking desert to most insects. They not only need a bigger variety of plants around (not just flowers), but maybe also some old wood to borrow into and some loose earth on the ground. Stuff like that.

Insects usually also do not deal very well with the climate change. Be it with the growing heat or with the more erratic weather patterns of draught and then just quick and sudden rainfall, that does not linger.

And, of course, there is also the fact that we use a lot of anti-insect pesticides in agriculture. Which does not only hit those pests, but basically any other insect around.

And then... there is the invasive species. We kinda spread a lot of invasive insect species around, that also kill a ton of the local insect species.

So... What can you do? Well, if you have a garden, you can make it more insect friendly. Duh. You also can leave out some water for insects and birds. They all need it.

But most of all: Become politically active. Make sure that pesticides are used less. It is maybe the most important.

[artemis-fowl-incident-report]

Fowl Futures

(btw, I'm sending in query letters to literary agents atm. Wish me luck)

Artemis: I imagine Artemis relaxes a lot in the future. He's already proved himself, he's been chaotic, he's literally died to save the world. He's earned some rest. Not all of it, though. He's never been one to rest on his laurels. He pours a lot of his time and attention into Fowl Industries R&D department, creating things to help better humanity (and making the lives of Politicians who stand in the way of that a whole lot more difficult). I could see him settling down eventually, maybe having kids (something he would be terrified of, since he doesn't want to make them feel the way his father made him feel) but most of all, it is is good life, a life he deserves.

Beckett: Because of his connection with animals, I believe Beckett would have a hand in farming. More accurately, he would be ethically negotiating with animals for their by-products (eggs, wool, milk etc. He draws the line at meat) He runs it more like a union than anything. It started with him keeping bees, since they largely consent to their domestication by humans. He also writes children's books

Myles: Surprising no one, Myles goes on to completely dominate all fields scientific study, and probably invents several new ones. Because of his focus on his nutrition from a young age, he grows to be the tallest out of the Fowl siblings. He is also a massive foodie, and runs the kitchen like a military commander whenever they have events.

Angeline & Tim: I feel like they spend the rest of their lives absolutely devoted to one another, with Angeline going on to spear head many charitable causes, and Tim there simply to be her cheerleader.

Butler: Lets be honest now, Butler is never going to completely retire, but he does slow down a bit. He takes up running the estate and helping Artemis raise his family, becoming the unofficial extra grandpa of his principles children. He also takes up writing as a hobby, and you best believe his window boxes are always weed free.

Juliet: Of course Juliet has a very successful wrestler and goes onto international acclaim, after which she becomes a trainer for those trying to break into the industry. For some reason I think she would really do well as a foster parent, specialising in kids that need physical protection from those they have been removed from.

Holly: Holly would go onto greater and greater heights, punching and kicking the whole way. She would redefine ever aspect of the LEP through either major or minor elements. She would also absolutely terrify the council the whole time.

Foaly: Inventing, loving his wife, loving his kids (which he may or may not have. It certainly sounded like it in the Atlantis complex, but Eoin seems to have forgotten them past that point)

Mulch: Continues to dabble both in crime and solving crime for a good long while, and eventually publishes a very successful autobiography (the factuality of which is still debated long into the future).

No1: Not only is No1 a once in a generation warlock, but a once in a generation teacher, once in a generation councilman, once in a generation bad ass with way too many hobbies and a penchant for adopting any stray cats who look his way.