#share your AU lore please

[gyuuberryy]

right next door!

pairing: enemy!sunghoon x reader

synopsis: you and park sunghoon have been tangled in hogwarts' most explosive rivalry since fifth year—all duels in corridors and sabotaged potions and lingering stares across the great hall. now in your last year, you're forced to share prefect duties, and between his infuriating teasing and surprisingly caring moments, you can't decide if you want to hex him or kiss him. but when old wounds resurface and the line between rivalry and something else blurs, you'll have to confront why his attention still makes your pulse race—and whether some bridges are better left burned.

genre: hogwarts au, ex friends to enemies to lovers, forced proximity

warnings: highly suggestive content!!, a steamy pool scene, sunghoon gets called an exhibtionist as a joke, mentions of blood status, jealousy, swearing, lots of hogwarts lore references, angst

note: lowkey got inspired to write this after reading deadly education but ended up making it spicy lol. also i haven't specifically mentioned which hogwarts houses the reader and hoon are in since you guys must be different houses so yeah. enjoyyy

word count: 8.1k

If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3 | taglist

the parchment trembled slightly in your grip, the edges crinkling under your fingertips as you stared at the freshly inked letters spelling out your name beside the words girl prefect. your breath caught—just for a second—before a giddy warmth spread through your chest. you could’ve sworn your feet barely grazed the stone floor as you made your way to the front of the classroom.

this was it.

all those late nights hunched over textbooks in the library until your eyes burned. every extra credit assignment you’d taken on, every house point you’d fought for. the way you’d practiced spells until your wrists ached, all for this moment—the recognition you’d craved, the proof that your effort hadn’t gone unnoticed.

then the head of house cleared their throat.

“—and your fellow prefect will be park sunghoon.”

the air left your lungs in one sharp exhale.

your head whipped toward him instinctively, muscle memory from years of tracking his movements, and just like always—just like always—he was already looking at you. his lips twitched, not quite a smirk but something dangerously close, his dark eyes alight with amusement.

of course.

of course it had to be him. the universe had a cruel sense of humor.

the head of house folded their hands atop the desk, surveying the two of you with the weary patience of someone who had long since grown tired of your antics. “i trust,” they said slowly, “that this appointment will encourage you both to set aside your… differences and act with the decorum expected of prefects.” their gaze flicked between you, pointed. “no duels in the corridors. no jinxes in the common room. and for merlin’s sake, no more sabotaging each other’s potions.”

sunghoon’s expression was the picture of innocence. “i would never.”

you barely suppressed a scoff. liar.

the moment you were dismissed, you spun on your heel, determined to escape before he could so much as open his mouth. but sunghoon, with his long legs caught up and fell into step beside you with infuriating ease, his shoulder brushing yours just enough to make you stiffen.

“looks like we’re stuck with each other, sweetheart,” he mused, voice dripping with false sweetness.

you clenched your jaw. “don’t call me that.”

“what, would you prefer partner?” he grinned when you shot him a glare, the torchlight catching the sharp curve of his cheekbones. 

“oh, come on. admit it—you’re thrilled. all those patrols together, just you and me.” he leaned in just slightly, and you hated the way your pulse jumped. “bet you’ve been dreaming about it.”

“dreaming of hexing you into next week, maybe.”

he laughed, low and taunting, and you hated the way it sent a prickle down your spine—the way it still did, even after all this time. “you’d miss me too much.”

“in your dreams, park.”

“already there.” he winked.

you stopped short, turning to face him fully. the corridor was empty save for the two of you, the flickering torchlight casting shadows across his sharp features that made him look almost otherworldly. 

“listen,” you hissed, “just because we’re prefects now doesn’t mean i’ve forgotten what you did last term. or the term before that. or—”

“you’re really holding onto that?” he tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers twitched at his side—like he was stopping himself from reaching for something. 

“i’d say it’s flattering, but it’s starting to sound like an obsession.”

your fingers twitched toward your wand. “i swear, if you don’t—”

“ah-ah.” he tutted, nodding pointedly to the enchanted portraits lining the walls—several of whom had paused their conversations to watch the spectacle. “decorum, remember?” his voice dropped, just for you. “wouldn’t want to disappoint the head of house on our first day.”

you forced your hand to relax, but the fire in your chest refused to die. this wasn’t just about rivalry. this was about the way he’d looked right through you fifth year, like you were nothing. like you’d never been anything.

“this isn’t over,” you muttered.

sunghoon’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “oh, i’m counting on it.”

and with that, he strolled past you, robes swishing behind him like a victory banner. you stared after him, torn between the urge to scream and the sinking realisation that this year was going to be very long.

but if he thought for one second you’d let him win?

he had another thing coming.

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

the moment you stepped into the prefects’ wing, the air itself seemed to thicken, pressing against your skin like a warning. this part of the common room was unnervingly quiet—separated from the usual chaos by an ornate archway woven with enchanted ivy that shivered as you passed. two doors faced each other in the dim torchlight, close enough that you could’ve stretched out your arms and touched both at once.

yours. and—

“no.”

sunghoon’s voice curled around you from behind, rich with amusement. “yes.”

you didn’t need to turn to see his expression—you knew it by heart. that lazy, lopsided grin, the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners just before he delivered some infuriating remark. your fingers twitched toward your wand, but you clenched them into fists instead, nails biting crescents into your palms.

the door in front of you seemed to taunt you with its very existence.

“this is a joke,” you muttered.

“a hilarious one,” he agreed, brushing past so close his sleeve whispered against yours. he leaned against his doorframe with practiced ease, the flickering torchlight carving shadows under his cheekbones, gilding the curve of his smirk. 

“aw, don’t look so heartbroken, princess. could’ve been worse,” his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “you could’ve been stuck next to someone boring.”

you shot him a look that could’ve melted steel. “right. because you’re a delight.”

he pressed a hand to his chest—the same way he used to when you’d accuse him of cheating at exploding snap—and the familiarity of the gesture lodged like a splinter in your throat. “i’m wounded. after all these years, you still don’t appreciate my charm?”

“your charm,” you spat, the words tumbling out raw and unfiltered, “is what got us here in the first place.”

the silence that followed was deafening.

for one fractured second, his mask slipped—just enough for you to catch the flicker in his eyes, the barely-there tightening of his jaw. but it was gone before you could name it, smoothed over with a careless shrug that didn’t match the sudden tension in his shoulders.

you remembered when those shoulders had carried your unconscious first-year self to the hospital wing after your disastrous attempt at flying. remembered how they'd shaken with silent laughter during history of magic when you'd charmed his quill to draw rude pictures on his parchment. remembered most painfully how they'd turned away from you in fifth year, when he'd started sitting with them—the polished, pureblooded group who whispered about blood status in the corridors.

it had started small. skipped study sessions. forgotten inside jokes. then one day you'd walked into the great hall to find your usual seat by the window—your seat, the one he'd saved for you every morning since first year—occupied by some simpering girl from his new circle.

when you'd cornered him after potions, demanding to know what his problem was, he'd just shrugged. "people change." like it was that simple. like four years of friendship meant nothing.

so you'd made sure he remembered.

if he wanted to pretend you didn't exist, you'd force him to notice you. you charmed his robes neon pink during presentations. swapped his pumpkin juice with vinegar. turned all his quills into snakes during arithmancy. each prank was a scream into the void: look at me, see me, remember what you threw away.

now, standing in the dimly lit corridor, the weight of those memories pressed between you like a third presence. sunghoon recovered faster than you did, his smirk sliding back into place with practiced ease.

"still holding onto ancient history, i see," he mused, pushing off the doorframe to take a step closer. the movement brought him into your space, close enough that you caught the faint scent of cedar and ink that still haunted your dreams. "what's next? you gonna charm my shoes to stick to the floor like third year? or—"

"that was you," you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended. the accusation hung between you, trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. you did this first. you started this war.

his eyebrow quirked. "and you turned all my quills into snakes during arithmancy."

"after you vanished my potions textbook the week before NEWTs!"

"allegedly."

"you left my handwriting on a fake love note to flitwick in the margins!"

he grinned, wide and unrepentant, and it was so familiar that your chest ached. "allegedly."

you turned back to your door before he could see how his smile still affected you, how your traitorous heart still stuttered at the sight. but sunghoon, ever relentless, wasn't finished.

"you know," he said, his voice dropping into something softer, more intimate—the tone he used to reserve for midnight confessions and hidden corners, "if you wanted my attention this badly, you could've just asked."

your hand froze on the doorknob.

for one suspended heartbeat, the air between you crackled with the ghost of what you'd once been—two halves of a reckless, unbreakable whole. you could almost feel the warmth of his shoulder pressed against yours in the library, the way he'd whisper jokes into your ear until you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

then reality came crashing back.

"keep dreaming, park," you scoffed, shoving the door open with more force than necessary.

his laughter followed you inside, warm and melodic and wrong—because it wasn't yours to keep anymore. "already do," he called after you.

you slammed the door behind you, pressing your back against it as if it could shield you from the way your pulse raced, from the way your eyes burned with something dangerously close to tears. outside, you heard his footsteps pause, followed by the sound of his door gently slamming shut

your chest ached.

this year was going to be hell.

it becomes a thing after that.

you start bumping into sunghoon at the worst possible times—as if the universe has decided your suffering is its favourite spectator sport. like when you drag yourself into the hallway at 2 am, bleary-eyed and half-dead from studying, your vision swimming from hours of staring at ancient runes, only to collide with something warm and solid.

"oof—"

the scent hits you first—cedar and something faintly sweet, like the peppermint candies he always used to sneak during classes. your sleep-addled brain recognizes it before your eyes do, and your stomach does a traitorous little flip.

sunghoon steadies you with hands on your shoulders, his own hair sticking up in three different directions, dark strands falling into his eyes. he's wearing what might be the most ridiculous sleepwear you've ever seen—flannel pants with little animated broomsticks that actually move, hanging low on his hips, and a threadbare quidditch jersey that's definitely two sizes too big, slipping off one shoulder to reveal a sliver of collarbone.

you blink.

he blinks back.

for one horrifying second, you're both frozen there in the dim torchlight, his fingers warm through the thin fabric of your oversized hoodie (the one with the cartoon snitch that says "catch me if you can"—a gift from your friend jungwon that you'd never admit to owning).

then his gaze drops to your feet.

and he snorts.

"please tell me those were a gift," he says, pointing at your slippers—fluffy monstrosities shaped like kneazles, complete with little ears that flop when you shift your weight. one ear has started to curl inward from wear. "tell me you didn't willingly purchase those."

you flip him off, shuffling past with as much dignity as you can muster when your slippers make a soft mrrp noise against the stone floor.

"they're warm," you mutter.

"they're embarrassing."

"says the guy wearing pyjamas with his dancing broomsticks on them."

you don't even have to look back to know he's grinning. you can hear it in his voice. "you noticed? i'm flattered."

your cheeks burn. damn him.

he starts stealing your favourite study spot, too.

the one by the window in the common room—the table with the perfect view of the lake, where the afternoon light turns the water to liquid gold and the old oak table bears the carved initials you'd put there fourth year (SH + Y/N, hidden under the edge where only you'd know to look). you've claimed it for years, and everyone knows it.

which is exactly why sunghoon's sitting there when you walk in one evening, already sprawled across the bench like he owns it, twirling his wand between his fingers with lazy precision. the dying sunlight catches on the silver rings he always wears, making them gleam.

you stop dead.

"wow," you deadpan. "you work fast."

he doesn't even glance up from his parchment, but you see the way his lips quirk. "what can i say? early bird gets the view." he finally looks up, and the smirk he gives you is all sharp edges and challenge. "maybe you should try being less predictable."

you consider setting his notes on fire.

instead, you take the table next to his—the wobbly one that always tilts your inkwell—and pointedly ignore the way his knee brushes yours under the table when he stretches.

(he definitely does it on purpose.)

(you definitely don't think about how his legs have gotten longer since fifth year.)

but the worst is the patrols.

being forced to walk the castle's quiet, echoing corridors together—where every footstep sounds too loud, every breath feels too close. 

tonight, he's holding his wand aloft like some kind of dramatic victorian ghost hunter, the lumos glow casting long shadows across his sharp cheekbones, catching on the silver hoop in his left ear.

you roll your eyes. "bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"sorry for not having bat vision like you."

"maybe if you didn't spend all your time preening in mirrors—"

you don't even see the uneven step.

one second, you're scoffing at him—the next, your foot catches on a raised stone, and you're lurching forward with a startled gasp, your wand flying from your grip.

but before you can faceplant into the cold stone floor, his hand shoots out, gripping your elbow and yanking you back upright with surprising gentleness. your chest collides with his, and for one terrifying, electric second, you're right there—close enough to see the flecks of silver in his dark eyes, close enough to count his eyelashes, close enough to feel his breath hitch against your lips.

neither of you moves.

his fingers are still wrapped around your arm, warm and firm, and you hate how familiar it feels. how right. how easy it would be to lean in, to—

then he clears his throat and lets go like you've burned him, taking a deliberate step back.

"watch your step," he mutters, already turning away to gather your scattered notes.

you don't miss the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers tremble just slightly as he hands your wand back.

the rest of the patrol is silent, but everything left unsaid makes the air between you suffocating.

you pushed open the heavy oak door to the prefects’ bathroom, steam curling around your ankles as you stepped inside. the massive sunken tub glimmered under floating enchanted candles, their reflections dancing across the marble walls. and it seems that no other prefect from the other houses were here.

perfect—just what you needed after a gruelling day of school.

then you heard the water splash.

sunghoon stood waist-deep in the pool, his back to you as he peeled off his soaked white t-shirt. water sluiced down the defined muscles of his shoulders, tracing the elegant dip of his spine before disappearing beneath the waterline. the dim candlelight gilded every curve of his toned arms as he tossed the shirt aside with a wet smack against the tiles.

your brain short-circuited.

he turned at the sound of your choked gasp, water dripping from his dark hair. for one horrifying second, his eyes locked onto yours—wide, startled—before his lips curled into that infuriating smirk.

"enjoying the view, sweetheart?"

you whirled around so fast you nearly tripped over your own robes. "this is a shared space, you—you exhibitionist!"

his laugh echoed off the marble. "shared, yes. which means knocking is customary." you could hear the grin in his voice. "unless you were hoping to catch me like this?"

"i'd rather catch dragon pox!" you fumbled for the door handle, cheeks burning.

"liar," he called after you. the splash of water told you he'd leaned back, completely at ease. "you stared for a solid five seconds."

you slammed the door hard enough to rattle the torches in their sconces.

…

"five seconds?" sunoo nearly spat out his pumpkin juice, eyes sparkling with mischief. across the table, jungwon choked on a laugh, thumping his chest.

you stabbed your fork into a roasted potato with unnecessary force. "i did not stare."

"sure," jungwon drawled, stealing a roll from your plate. "and i'm the minister of magic."

sunoo leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "you two need to either fuck or duel already. the sexual tension is giving me hives."

"sunoo!" you kicked him under the table, but your traitorous gaze flickered across the hall before you could stop it.

sunghoon sat with his usual group, idly stirring his soup. as if sensing your stare, he glanced up—and winked. the bastard had the audacity to mouth "five seconds" before his friends noticed and started elbowing him.

you dropped your forehead onto the table with a groan.

you should’ve known the universe had it out for you.

the thought pounded in time with your footsteps as you stomped toward the forbidden forest, the cold night air biting at your exposed skin. 

of course this would happen on the one night you actually planned to sleep before dawn. 

of course it was a group of reckless first-years from your house who decided to wander off here. 

and of course—because fate had never once been kind to you—sunghoon was the one marching beside you, his shoulder brushing yours every few steps like some cruel reminder of how things used to be.

"this is your fault," you muttered, more out of habit than anything else.

his sigh was barely audible over the crunch of leaves underfoot. "how, exactly?"

"you gave them detention for the dungbomb incident. this is clearly revenge."

"ah yes, because children are famously logical creatures who plan elaborate revenge schemes." his voice dripped with sarcasm, but there was no real heat behind it. just exhaustion. it threw you off—this version of sunghoon who didn't rise to your bait like he used to.

you risked a glance at his profile in the moonlight. the sharp line of his jaw was tense, his brows drawn together in that way they always got when he was thinking too hard. you hated that you still noticed these things. hated that after all this time, you could still read him like a book you'd memorised but pretended not to care about.

the forest loomed ahead, darker than the sky around it. a shiver ran down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"we'll split up," you said abruptly. "cover more ground."

"no." the word came out sharp, surprising you both. he cleared his throat. "it's... not safe. we stick together."

there was something in his voice you couldn't place—something that made your chest ache in a way you refused to examine. so you just nodded, stepping into the treeline beside him, close enough that your sleeves brushed. neither of you moved away.

the forest was wrong tonight.

usually alive with rustling leaves and distant animal calls, now it was eerily silent, like the trees themselves were holding their breath. your own breathing sounded too loud in your ears, your heartbeat pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

"this is stupid," you muttered, just to break the silence. "what kind of idiots think wandering into the murder forest at midnight is a good idea?"

next to you, sunghoon huffed a quiet laugh. "the same kind that think turning their rival's hair pink right before a quidditch match is a solid life choice."

the unexpected callback to simpler times caught you off guard. warmth bloomed in your chest before you could stop it, quickly smothered by years of built-up resentment.

"that was one time—"

"and the time you swapped my pumpkin juice with vinegar—"

"you deserved that—"

"and the time you definitely stared at me in the prefect's bathroom for five full seconds—"

something inside you snapped.

"oh my god, are you serious right now?" you whirled on him so fast he actually took a step back. your wandlight threw wild shadows across his face, illuminating the startled widening of his eyes. "you're really gonna act like i started all this? like you weren't the one who—"

your voice cracked traitorously. you hated it. hated the way his expression shifted from amused to concerned in an instant. hated how your eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears.

sunghoon went completely still. "who what?" he asked quietly.

the words tore out of you like a dam breaking:

"who ditched me the second you found a shinier group of friends!"

the silence that followed was deafening.

sunghoon looked like you'd struck him. his mouth opened, closed. for the first time since you'd known him, park sunghoon seemed at a complete loss for words.

you didn't wait for him to find them. turning on your heel, you stormed deeper into the forest, your pulse roaring in your ears. you made it three steps before you heard him move behind you—quick, urgent footsteps—and then his hand was wrapping around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"wait—"

a shrill voice cut through the trees before he could continue.

"oh thank merlin!"

the first-years.

sunghoon's grip loosened immediately, but his fingers lingered for half a second longer than necessary before falling away. the ghost of his touch burned long after he'd turned toward the sound.

the walk back was torture.

the kids shuffled ahead of you, sniffling and covered in mud and leaves, while you and sunghoon trailed behind in suffocating silence. your mind raced, replaying the moment over and over—the look on his face when you said those words, the way his hand felt around your wrist.

at one point, he moved closer, his shoulder brushing yours. "we should—" he started, voice low.

you sped up, pretending to adjust the scarf of a trembling first-year. you didn’t wand to do this now.

by the time you reached the common room, your jaw ached from clenching it. you handed out detentions on autopilot ("no, you cannot serve it together, yes, you're lucky we're not telling the head of house"), your voice sounding distant even to your own ears.

the second the kids scurried off, you bolted for your room, desperate for space to breathe, to think—

—only for a hand to catch the door before you could slam it shut.

suddenly, you were being yanked into his room.

"what the hell—"

"i didn't ditch you."

his voice was rough, raw in a way you'd never heard before. his grip on your wrist was tight enough that you could feel his pulse racing against your skin—or maybe that was yours. you were too overwhelmed to tell.

you glared up at him, chest heaving. "oh, really? because i remember you ghosting me for months—"

"my parents made me."

the words burst out of him like he'd been holding them in for years. he released your wrist to rake a hand through his hair, pacing the small space between his bed and the door like a caged animal.

"they—merlin, they lost it when they found out i was friends with a muggle-born," he continued, voice cracking on the last word. "threatened to pull me out of hogwarts. i had to—" he stopped, swallowed hard. "i had to pretend. until i could figure something out."

the confession hit you like a bludger to the chest. all the air left your lungs at once.

memories flooded back—sunghoon's sudden distance fifth year, the way he'd flinch whenever his new friends made comments about blood status, the times you'd caught him looking at you across the great hall with an expression you couldn't decipher.

"you could've told me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he shook his head, eyes shining in the dim light. "I couldn't. you would've tried to fix it. you would've—" his voice broke. "you would've gotten yourself hurt."

the raw honesty in his words stole your breath. for years, you'd assumed the worst; that he'd outgrown you, that you weren't enough. but this... this was something else entirely.

the air between you was heavy with everything unsaid. you could see the exact moment he realised how close you were standing, because his breath hitched, his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"...i'm sorry," he murmured, so quiet you almost missed it.

the words settled over you like a warm cloak. not perfect. not a complete fix. but a start.

"me too," you whispered back.

when you slipped out of his room and back into yours, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter.

neither of you slept that night. you lay awake staring at the ceiling, replaying every word, every look. wondering if this changed everything—or nothing at all.

you woke with a start, your cheek pressed against a half-open textbook. sunlight streamed through the common room windows—you’d fallen asleep at your usual table with the view ofthe lake, the one sunghoon had stolen so often. your neck ached, and there was drool on your parchment.

a shadow fell across your notes.

"rough night?"

sunghoon stood over you, holding two steaming mugs. he looked unfairly put-together for someone who’d also presumably gotten no sleep—his hair slightly damp from a shower, his prefect badge already pinned neatly to his robes.

you sat up too fast, your elbow knocking into an inkwell. "what are you—"

"coffee." he set one mug down in front of you, black with three sugars, just how you liked it. "figured you’d need it."

you stared at the mug like it might transform into a dungbomb. this was new. this was terrifying.

across the room, a group of fourth-years whispered behind their hands.

sunghoon cleared his throat. "patrols tonight. meet at eight?"

"yeah," you managed. "eight."

he nodded, already turning away—then paused. "oh, and y/n?"

"what?"

"you’ve got…" he gestured to his own cheek, mirroring where your face had been smushed against your notes. "ink."

you swiped at your face furiously as he walked off, but not before catching the way his shoulders shook with silent laughter.

the whispers started the moment you walked in together to the dining hall.

it wasn’t intentional—you’d just happened to leave the common room at the same time, and sunghoon had held the door open for you like some kind of gentleman, and now the your entire table was gaping.

"what the hell happened last night?" sunoo demanded as you slid onto the bench. next to him, jungwon’s eyebrows were in his hairline.

"nothing," you muttered, reaching for the toast.

"nothing?" jungwon leaned in. "he’s been staring at you since you sat down."

your head snapped up. sure enough, sunghoon was watching you from across the hall, chin propped on his hand. when he caught your eye, he smirked and took an exaggerated sip from his mug—the same one he’d brought you earlier.

you kicked sunoo under the table when he opened his mouth. "don’t."

meanwhile, at the slytherin table, sunghoon’s so-called friends weren’t even pretending not to stare. one of them—a tall guy with a permanent sneer—said something under his breath. sunghoon’s response was too quiet to hear, but the way his friend’s face paled was very satisfying.

you found out what he’d said to them later, when you passed them in the corridor.

"—thought you were done with that," sneer-boy was hissing, just around the corner from where you’d frozen mid-step.

"changed my mind," sunghoon’s voice was calm, but there was steel underneath. "got a problem with it?"

"she’s a muggle-born—"

"finish that sentence," sunghoon said, so quietly it was almost a whisper, "and i’ll hex you into next week."

silence.

you ducked into an alcove before they could see you, your heart pounding. when sunghoon walked past minutes later, alone, he paused—like he could sense you there.

"you can come out now," he called, amused. "unless you’re planning to ambush me again. which, fair."

you stepped out, cheeks burning. "i wasn’t eavesdropping—"

"liar." he fell into step beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world. "but since you heard all that…" he bumped your shoulder with his. "you’re welcome."

you bumped him back, harder. "idiot."

he grinned.

things changed after that.

sunghoon stopped stealing your study spot—instead, he’d join you there, sprawling across the bench like he owned it. you stopped hexing his belongings—mostly. (some traditions had to stay alive.)

his old friends glowered at you in the halls. yours teased you mercilessly.

and when you had patrols together, the silence wasn’t suffocating anymore—just quiet, comfortable.

(though he did still tease you about the bathroom incident. some things would never change.)

the moment the first raindrop hit your nose, you knew this trip was doomed. 

you'd been assigned to chaperone a group of first-years on their first hogsmeade visit, with sunghoon as your unfortunate co-supervisor—because apparently the universe still hadn't finished laughing at you. the kids had dragged you from honeydukes to zonko's, their excitement barely contained as they pressed against every shop window. 

sunghoon lingered at the back of the group, hands in his pockets, occasionally shooting you glances you couldn't quite decipher.

then the sky opened up without warning. one second you were counting heads near the post office, the next icy rain was pelting down in sheets, sending students scattering in every direction. 

"in here!" sunghoon's voice cut through the chaos as his fingers closed around your wrist. you didn't process where he was pulling you until the bell above the door tinkled and the overwhelming scent of floral perfume hit you.

madam puddifoot's. the most notoriously romantic tea shop in the village, all lace doilies and floating cherubs and couples canoodling in heart-shaped booths. 

"we are not—" you began, already backpedalling, but it was too late. the first-years had already stampeded inside, their squeals of delight echoing off the pink walls.

sunghoon stepped in behind you, his chest brushing your shoulder as he shook rainwater from his hair. "well. this is cozy." 

you shot him a glare that could melt steel. 

"i'd rather swim back to the castle." 

the elderly witch behind the counter beamed at your bedraggled group. "young love! how precious!" 

"we're not—" 

"just chaperones," sunghoon finished smoothly, though the smirk playing at his lips ruined any attempt at innocence.

the next twenty minutes passed in a haze of humiliation. the first-years were seated at a large table near the back, leaving you and sunghoon wedged into a tiny booth for two—one adorned with actual cupid statues that periodically blew glitter into the air. your face burned as a cherub floated by dumping rose petals on unsuspecting patrons. 

across from you, sunghoon looked unbearably amused, stirring his tea with infuriating calm.

"you're enjoying this," you accused, watching as he added a third sugar cube to his cup. 

he raised an eyebrow. "the tea's decent." 

"i meant the utter humiliation of this situation." 

the corner of his mouth twitched. "that too."

a sudden commotion at the first-years' table saved you from responding. one of the girls was pointing between you two with alarming enthusiasm. "are you going to kiss?" 

your teacup clattered against its saucer. sunghoon choked on his sip. 

"we are not—" 

"not in front of you lot," sunghoon interrupted solemnly, sending the table into giggles. 

you kicked him under the table hard enough to make him wince. "you're dead to me."

the rain showed no signs of letting up, trapping you in this pastel nightmare. as minutes ticked by, you became increasingly aware of every accidental brush of sunghoon's knee against yours, every time his fingers grazed yours reaching for the sugar bowl. the shop's enchanted ceiling—currently mimicking a sunset—cast warm light across his features, softening the sharp angles of his face in a way that made your chest feel oddly tight.

at one point, you caught him staring at you with an expression you couldn't quite place—something between amusement and that same unreadable look he'd worn in the forest after your argument. 

"what?" you muttered, self-consciously wiping at your face. 

he leaned forward slightly, voice dropping so only you could hear. "just wondering how long it'll take you to admit this isn't so bad."

before you could retort, a chorus of "ooooooh!" erupted from the first-years' table. you looked down to realise sunghoon's hand was still covering yours on the tabletop—when had that happened? 

you jerked back as if burned, sending a saucer clattering to the floor. the resulting cheers from the children made you want to disappear into the upholstery.

by the time the rain eased, your dignity was beyond salvage. the walk back to hogwarts was a parade of giggles and not-so-subtle whispers from your charges. sunghoon walked beside you, his shoulder bumping yours every few steps like he couldn't quite help himself. 

"you realise we're never living this down," you groaned as the castle gates came into view. 

he grinned, that infuriating, lopsided grin that used to make your stomach flip in fourth year and—annoyingly—still did now. 

"where's your sense of adventure?" 

"back in that tea shop, buried under approximately two hundred rose petals."

his laughter followed you all the way up the path, warm and familiar, and despite yourself, you found your steps falling into sync with his. (and if you didn't protest when one of the first-years snapped another photo of you two walking shoulder-to-shoulder—well. some things were better left unexamined.)

things between you and sunghoon had become dangerously comfortable. what started as reluctant co-prefect duties had slowly melted into late-night study sessions where your head would end up on his shoulder, patrols where his fingers lingered a second too long when helping you up, and inside jokes whispered too close to each other’s ears in the great hall. 

it wasn’t a relationship, not really—just stolen moments and unspoken tension that made your stomach flip whenever he smirked at you across a crowded room.

that’s why it stung so much when you walked into the library and saw him laughing with eunji, a bright-eyed ravenclaw a year younger than you both who had newly joined. logically, you knew there was nothing romantic about it—he was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as she enthusiastically explained some arithmancy concept, his expression more amused than affectionate. but the way his eyes crinkled at her enthusiasm, the easy way he nodded along—it reminded you too much of how he used to look at you before everything got complicated.

"y/n!" sunghoon called when he spotted you hovering by the shelves, waving you over with that same warm smile that always made your pulse skip. "come join us. eunji’s explaining this ridiculous theory about using arithmancy to predict quidditch outcomes."

you forced your feet to move, your grip tightening on your book bag. eunji greeted you with a cheerful wave, her braids swinging. "sunghoon said you’re brilliant at charms! maybe you can help me understand this part about wand movement harmonics?"

the next hour passed in a blur of half-hearted contributions from you and increasingly animated discussion between the two of them. every time you tried to interject, the conversation would circle back to some inside joke or advanced magical theory that left you feeling like an outsider in your own friendship. when eunji reached over to adjust sunghoon’s grip on her notes, demonstrating some wand technique, you suddenly couldn’t breathe properly.

"i should go," you muttered, gathering your things before either could protest. "forgot i promised to meet sunoo for... something."

sunghoon’s brow furrowed as you stood. "you okay?"

"fine." you forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. "just tired."

the walk back to your dorm felt infinitely longer than usual, each step weighed down by memories of fifth year—of sunghoon slowly slipping away from you, of empty promises to study together, of eventually finding him surrounded by new friends who looked at you like you didn’t belong.

hogsmeade weekend only made it worse. you’d been hoping to bump into sunghoon accidentally-on-purpose near honeydukes, maybe share a chocolate frog like old times. instead, you found him outside the three broomsticks deep in conversation with eunji again, their heads bent together over some parchment. when he laughed at something she said, that familiar loud, unguarded laugh that used to be yours, something sharp twisted in your chest.

you turned on your heel so fast you nearly collided with a group of third-years.

"there you are!" sunoo’s voice cut through your spiralling thoughts as he and jungwon appeared beside you, their arms laden with zonko’s purchases. "we’ve been looking everywhere—oh." 

sunoo followed your gaze to where sunghoon was now helping eunji adjust her scarf. "that again?"

you let them steer you into the three broomsticks, where jungwon immediately ordered three butterbeers. 

"you’re being ridiculous," sunoo said bluntly as you slumped into a chair. "he looks at you like you invented sunlight. that’s just some kid he’s tutoring."

"but what if—"

"what if nothing," jungwon interrupted, pushing a frothy mug toward you. "remember when you turned his hair pink before the gryffindor match last year? he still smiles when someone mentions that."

the memory should have comforted you. instead, it just made you think of how easily things could change—how sunghoon had drifted away once before, how his parents’ disapproval still hung over whatever this was between you.

by monday, you’d started taking deliberate detours to avoid him. patrols were reassigned, library visits carefully timed, and when you couldn’t avoid crossing paths, you kept conversations painfully polite. sunghoon’s confused frowns and hesitant "hey, wait—"s as you hurried away only made your chest ache more.

"are you trying to break his heart or yours?" sunoo demanded one evening after you ducked into an empty classroom to avoid sunghoon in the corridor.

you pressed your back against the cold stone wall. "it’s not like that. i just... need space."

"from him? or from whatever’s happening between you two?"

you didn’t have an answer.

the tension came to a head in charms class. with flitwick delayed by some mishap in the staff room, the classroom had dissolved into chaos. 

you’d gotten pulled into helping jay, a handsome gryffindor, untangle some particularly stubborn enchanted yarn. his dramatic retelling of his disastrous attempt to knit a scarf for his gran had you laughing so hard your sides hurt.

then you felt it—that unmistakable prickle of being watched.

sunghoon sat three rows back, his usually expressive face unreadable as he stared at you. his quill had stopped moving entirely, fingers clenched so tightly around it you could see the whites of his knuckles from across the room. when jay leaned in to whisper another joke, sunghoon’s jaw tightened visibly, his dark eyes flashing with something that sent heat crawling up your neck.

you forced yourself to look away, suddenly fascinated by the grain of your desk. but like a compass needle finding north, your gaze kept drifting back. minutes passed, and he was still watching you with that same intensity, as if trying to communicate something words couldn’t capture.

when flitwick finally arrived and class ended, you were out of your seat before the dismissal fully left his mouth. you didn’t look back, even when you heard sunghoon call your name in the corridor. your heart pounded as you took the stairs two at a time, your mind racing with questions you weren’t ready to face.

why did his attention still affect you like this? why did part of you still want to turn around and walk straight into that stormy gaze?

and most terrifying of all—what if you’d been wrong about everything?

the uncertainty settled heavy in your chest as you disappeared around the corner, leaving sunghoon and all your unanswered questions behind.

you should've known better than to think you'd have the prefect's bathroom to yourself. the universe had a cruel sense of humour when it came to you and sunghoon.

the massive, pool-like tub was empty when you arrived, steam curling off the water's surface in lazy tendrils. you'd changed into your bathing suit—a modest but pretty thing—before stepping in, sighing as the warm water lapped at your skin.

the golden taps lining the walls gleamed, each set with a different jewel that dispensed everything from rose-scented bubbles to vanilla-infused oils. you'd chosen a mix of both, the sweet floral scent wrapping around you as you leaned back, eyes closed, finally relaxing for the first time in days.

then the door slammed open.

your eyes flew open just in time to see sunghoon stride in, already shirtless, a towel slung low over his hips. your breath caught. he looked unfairly good, water droplets clinging to his skin from the humid air, his dark hair slightly damp like he'd just showered.

his gaze locked onto yours immediately.

"you," he said, voice rough, "have been avoiding me." 

you swallowed, sinking a little deeper into the water. "i wasn't-"

"don't lie." he dropped the towel (thank merlin, he was wearing swim trunks) and stepped into the pool, not breaking eye contact for a second. the water rippled around him as he moved closer, and you instinctively backed toward the far edge, your pulse thundering in your ears.

he stopped you with a hand on your wrist. "where are you going?"

"the-the soap." you gestured weakly to the rose-and-vanilla tap across the pool. "i wanted to.."

sunghoon's grip tightened just slightly. "then go."

you didn't move. neither did he.

the silence stretched, thick with tension, until he finally let out a frustrated breath and tugged you closer. "you're really going to pretend nothing's wrong?"

you bit your lip, glancing away. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"bullshit." his thumb brushed over your wrist, sending a shiver down your spine. "you've been dodging me for days. skipping patrols. running away every time i get near you." his voice dropped, low and dangerous. "was it because of him?"

you blinked. "who?"

"that gryffindor. the one you were laughing with in class." his jaw clenched. "are you into him? is that why—"

"what? no!" you gaped at him. "i was just helping him with—"

"then why?" sunghoon's fingers slid up your arm, his touch burning even through the water. "why avoid me?"

you hesitated, then muttered, "you were the one always with that ravenclaw girl."

sunghoon stilled. then, slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips. "eunji?"

you scowled. "don't act like you don't know who i'm talking about."

he laughed, low and amused, his other hand coming up to cradle your face. "she's my friend's little sister, and, for the record, very much into girls."

your cheeks burned as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "were you jealous?"

"no!"

"liar." his nose brushed along your neck, and you shivered.

"you've been driving me crazy, you know that? watching you laugh with someone else, then running every time i tried to talk to you—" his hands slid down to your waist, gripping tight. "i couldn't take it"

your breath hitched. "sunghoon—"

"let me help you with that soap," he murmured, already reaching for the bottle floating nearby. 

you didn't protest as he poured a generous amount into his palms, his hands smoothing over your shoulders, down your arms, his touch deliberate and slow. when he reached your back, you tensed, but his fingers were careful, kneading the tension from your muscles as he worked the lather into your skin.

"you're so fucking pretty," he muttered, his lips brushing your shoulder. "it's unfair."

you leaned into him without thinking, your head tipping back against his chest. his hands stilled, then slid around to your front, tracing the dip of your collarbones, the curve of your waist. you could feel his heartbeat against your back, rapid and unsteady.

"sunghoon," you whispered, "your parents wouldn't approve of this. of us."

he stilled, then huffed a laugh. "who cares what they think?"

"they pulled you out of my life once already—"

"and i regret letting that happen every day." his thumb brushed your wrist. "they'll give in once they meet you."

your breath hitched. "you're going to make me meet them?"

"yeah," he said simply, pulling you flush against him. "you're gonna be my girlfriend after all."

the word sent heat rushing to your cheeks. "i never agreed to that."

sunghoon's hands slid to your waist. "then say no." when you didn't, his smirk returned. "that's what i thought."

he turned you to face him, his eyes dark with something that made your stomach flip. "tell me you feel it too."

you didn't have to ask what he meant. "i do."

his breath left him in a rush, and then his mouth was on yours, hot and desperate.

the kiss stole the air from your lungs, a messy clash of teeth and tongue and aching want. his hands gripped your hips like he was afraid you might slip away, fingertips digging into your skin through the thin fabric of your swimsuit. you whimpered against his mouth, your fingers tangling in his damp hair, tugging just enough to make him groan—a low, broken sound that sent a fresh bolt of heat straight to you.

"fuck," he muttered against your lips, voice hoarse, "i missed you. you have no idea—"

he cut himself off by kissing you again, deeper this time, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a hunger that made your knees weak. you barely realised you were moving until your back hit the slick marble edge of the pool, trapping you between the cool stone and the hard, burning press of sunghoon’s body.

he kissed like he was trying to memorise you—long, unhurried drags of his mouth against yours, punctuated by little nips to your bottom lip that had you gasping. one of his hands slid up your side, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip beneath your ribs, until his thumb brushed just under the swell of your breast, featherlight.

you broke the kiss with a gasp, your head falling back against the marble. "sunghoon—"

"tell me to stop," he said, voice wrecked, forehead pressed to yours. his hand stayed where it was, trembling slightly.

you opened your mouth—but no protest came out. instead, your hands slid down his chest, mapping the planes of muscle, the slick heat of his skin, until you were clutching at him helplessly.

"that's what i thought," he breathed, almost a laugh, before his mouth found your throat.

you choked on a moan as he kissed down the column of your neck, teeth scraping lightly, tongue soothing the sting. his hands, bolder now, roamed freely over your body, mapping every inch like it was his right. the thin straps of your bathing suit slipped down your shoulders under his touch, and you shivered, equal parts from the chill of the air and the heat building inside you.

"someone could walk in," you gasped, barely coherent as his teeth grazed your pulse point.

he cursed under his breath, dragging himself back enough to look at you. his eyes were black with heat, pupils blown wide, chest heaving.

"then come to my room," he said roughly, his voice pure sin. "please."

you hesitated—but then he kissed you again, slow this time, coaxing, like a promise of everything he wasn’t saying out loud. his thumb rubbed slow circles into your hip, grounding you.

"unless," he said against your mouth, smirking wickedly, "you'd rather stay here and risk getting caught."

you swatted his chest, but the fight had long since gone out of you. your body was already leaning into his, your mouth chasing his kiss. "fine," you whispered. "but only because—"

he didn't let you finish, with a grin, he lifted you out of the water in one smooth motion, making you squeal as he carried you toward the door, his lips finding yours again before you could protest.

“your room is right next door after all, so we don’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else.”

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[ugly-bug-starscream]

OMG SKYFIRE IS AERIELBOT'S FATHER FIGURE IN YOUR TFO AU??? I LOVE THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH--- may I please request some uuuhh parent/children sketches with them maybe?? qwq

OF COURSEE IVE BEEN WANTING TO SHARE ABOUT THEM! some lore!: after starscream disappeared and presumed dead in the quintesson war, skyfire to distract himself from grief he built little kids.. using starscream's and his own genetic data. so hes raising all five by himself KSJDFJSG. im gonna make more but meanwhile heres skyfire with his eldest ones, silverbolt and airraid. thank you for requesting!! <3

[piastriprincess]

if  you  keep  it  just  yours ⸻ charles  leclerc  x  reader  .

featuring  charles  leclerc  ,  writer!reader  ,  fluff  ,  smau . author’s  note  requested  by  anon  !  i’m  sorry  it  took  so  long  but  i  loved  your  request  and  your  kind  words  ,  i  hope  i  did  it  justice  !  tried  to  get  this  out  today  in  honor  of  the  #chodium  .  this  is  my  first  try  at  an  smau  so  PLEASE  be  nice  …  i’m  still  not  sure  i  love  the  way  this  turned  out  but  nevertheless  we  persist  !  i  also  had  to  drop  some  ancient  charles  lore  in  this  …  rip  bawsixteen  we still talk about you .  anyway  please  let  me  know  what  you  think  and  if  i  should  keep  trying  smaus  …  i  promise  i  won’t  be  upset  if  you  hated  it  <3  title  is  from  paris  by  taylor  swift  (in  honor  of  her  owning  the  masters  again  !!!)

liked by emmachamberlain, dollyalderton and 27,054 others yourusername it’s official — i’m in my monaco era! paris will always have mon coeur but it’s time for a change of scenery. here’s to good beaches and hopefully better stories 🐚💌

user1 THEEEE modern carrie bradshaw frfr ⤷ user2 No bc I can’t wait to hear her stories about the Monaco dating scene??? user3 romanticizing your life is BACK and yn is leading the charge !! user4 already screaming at how chic this is. give me the essay collection immediately yourbff OMG I need to visit asappppp ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername missing you already ! user5 bienvenue à monaco! you will love it here :) user6 main character of her own european romance novel iktr  camillecharriere oh i want to be you when i grow up ♥ liked by author user7 This post feels like the opening scene of an HBO show I’ll binge 16000 times…

───────── ☆ ─────────

to: Y/N L/N your.name@gmail.com  from: Jean-Claude Ravello jean-claude@bellevue.mc subject: Bienvenue au Bellevue!

Bonjour mademoiselle L/N, 

Welcome to your new home at the Residence Bellevue — we are so happy to have you here! I am sure you will quickly discover that Monaco is a small place, but this building is even smaller. Please, consider yourself part of the family already!

A few quick notes to help you settle in:

Waste and recycling are collected on Tuesdays and Fridays. There are trash chutes on every floor, but the recycling must be taken to the bins by the side entrance.

Wi-Fi information is included in the welcome folder. I know you mentioned you were a writer, so if you should need a stronger signal, the rooftop lounge is a favorite quiet working spot for our residents.

Your neighbors are both longtime Bellevue residents, so if you have any questions about the building that I cannot answer (or you just do not want to ask me!) please feel free to reach out to them. Charles actually grew up in Monaco and knows the city inside and out so if you need any recommendations I am sure he would be happy to help. Sharing both neighbors’ contact information (with permission):

Laura (16A): +377 08 35 19 72

Charles (16C): +377 99 42 67 01

Do not hesitate to contact me with any maintenance concerns or general questions! Wishing you a smooth unpacking. We are delighted to have you join our community.  

Welcome home, Jean-Claude Ravello Building Superintendent

───────── ☆ ─────────

───────── ☆ ─────────

liked by jiatortellini, kikagomes and 31,652 others yourusername from me to you, a new essay on the unique magic of starting over and the way a stranger can start to feel like a story. up now on substack! let me know what you think xx

user8 “balcony boy” WE CHEERED MOTHER IS BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER ⤷ user9 Her writing isn’t just about the men she’s dating… ⤷ user8 okay congrats you read. do you want a medal?? should we throw a party?? should we invite bella hadid?? marlowetatiana Obsessed ! ♥ liked by author user10 saw the notif at brunch and opened substack immediately like sorry guys my parasocial internet bestie needs to tell me about her new crush user11 @ oprah @ reesewitherspoon @ pitbull GET HER A BOOK DEAL STAT! ⤷ user12 girl what is mr. worldwide going to do… user13 “Maybe Balcony Boy and I will never really meet. Maybe we’re destined to almost-know each other indefinitely… But still, there’s something delicious about the romance of the near miss.” WOW!!!! ♥ liked by author yourbff What did I say… I give it a week ⤷ yourusername it’s been ten days actually. this is what growth looks like! take notes! user14 i get her bc balcony boy has me in a chokehold too and i’ve never even seen him

───────── ☆ ─────────

───────── ☆ ─────────

───────── ☆ ─────────

───────── ☆ ─────────

OUTGOING AUDIO MESSAGE ▶‖ to: bestie • 02:23  •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•

“Okay, so… I know I was supposed to check in after fifteen minutes and I’m really late and now I’m hiding out in the bathroom like I’m in a rom com from the 2000s because… I don’t know, I just — I just need a minute to breathe. [pause] I thought this was just a stupid little crush and I’d go on this date and get over it but he’s… Babe, he’s really sweet. He opened doors for me. He pulled out my chair. He called me chérie. He even laughed at my stupid joke about the bread basket! And he’s so — ugh. He’s so pretty and he smells so good, it’s rude. It’s actually unfair how perfect he is. [long sigh] But that’s not even the thing. Like, it’s not even that he’s cute. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit that he’s cute but — he’s smart. And funny. And curious, and he listens when I talk, like really listens, even if it’s stupid or rambley, and he asked about my writing and actually wanted to hear about it. I don’t want to jinx it or anything, but… yeah. I might be in trouble here. It feels like it could be something, you know? [pause] Okay. I really need to go back before he thinks I climbed out the window. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Love you so much.”

───────── ☆ ─────────

───────── ☆ ─────────

@ yourusername • instagram notifications you have (1) new follow request from @ bawsixteen !

───────── ☆ ─────────

liked by hunterh, oliviarodrigo, and 28,253 others yourusername life is looking pretty good lately

user15 is that a m-m-man ?!?!?!?! ⤷ user16 better question IS THAT BALCONY BOY ⤷ user17 It literally has to be! She hasn’t written about anyone else user15 okay i’ve gotten over my shock. who the hell is he bc his hand is fine as fuck rachsyme and you look even better! ♥ liked by author yourbff oh so we’re soft launching now… 👀 ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername yeahhhhh so i owe you SEVERAL voice memos user18 LOVERGIRL ERA user19 mother is boo’d up… congrats to whoever’s bouncing on it 😭 ⤷ user20 you almost got it sweetie. don’t worry. we’ll wait. bawsixteen Pretty flowers :) ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername almost as pretty as the guy who gave them to me :)

───────── ☆ ─────────

───────── ☆ ─────────

to: All Subscribers everythingiknowaboutsubs@substack.com from: Y/N your.name@substack.com subject: everything i know about falling

Everything I Know About… Falling

So here’s the thing about me and Balcony Boy (and yes, even though we’re actually dating now, I’m still not graduating to using his actual name with you all!) Somewhere in between our first kiss overlooking the harbor and him learning to make me blueberry pancakes just the way I like them, I’ve realized I can’t lie to myself that it’s casual anymore. 

And that is completely terrifying. 

You know that feeling when you’re reading a really good book and you look up and realize that you’ve been on another planet for hours? Where you’ve forgotten to check your phone, forgotten to be anxious about deadlines, forgotten about every single thing except the story and the words on the page? That’s what being with Balcony Boy feels like. Like nothing matters except existing in that very moment with him. 

I’m not used to staying present like that. My mind is like a summer storm, always pulled in a million different directions. I used to think it was a strength of mine: a skill, even. It made me a better writer, a better thinker. But that constant motion was also my shield — from boredom, from failure, from getting too attached to anything. Self-preservation disguised as independence. Emotional distance disguised as something casual. 

When Balcony Boy came into my life, yes, I liked him immediately. Six feet of tan, hot, shirtless neighbor. Let’s be real. Who wouldn’t enjoy that view? But somewhere along the way, he stopped being a charming background character in my life and started being the type of steady presence that made me want to slow down. To sit still. To listen. To trust. And that is such a new feeling that I can’t help but be scared.

Here’s the truth: I’ve dated a lot of men who liked the idea of me. Men who wanted to be a muse and then flinched when I spilled my truth onto the page. Men who liked a complicated woman until the complications weren’t cute anymore. Men who wanted me to be emotionally available for them, and who never really listened in return. All of that was okay, because I wasn’t staying still long enough for the pain to be anything more than a glancing blow. 

But Balcony Boy doesn’t just like the idea of me. He doesn’t need to be the story — he just wants to make space for mine. He reads my drafts and underlines all his favorite lines. He twirls me around my kitchen when I laugh and he holds me when I cry. He listens. He shows up, quietly and without spectacle. He brings me coffee and croissants when I’ve been writing too long and forget to eat. It sounds crazy, but I'm scared of this because if I lose it, for the first time in a long time, it'll really, really hurt. But Balcony Boy tells me I’m brave when I’m terrified. And for the first time in a long time, he makes me want to believe him. 

I used to think love was about dramatic gestures, but maybe this is what love feels like when it’s real. Not the fireworks (although there are plenty of those, too), but the foundation. Not someone catching you when you fall, but someone taking your hand so you don’t have to be scared of the jump in the first place. 

So here I am. Jumping, without hesitation. And if the fall kills me, at least I’ll have had the pleasure of doing it with him. 

yours, y/n xx

next week: everything i know about long-distance - on dating someone whose job takes them away more than you’d like, and learning to miss someone properly.

───────── ☆ ─────────

───────── ☆ ─────────

liked by bawsixteen, rachelchinouriri, and 29,311 others yourusername so in love that i might stop breathing, drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

user21 mama… mama a man behind you ⤷ user22 the launch is getting harder and harder user23 starting the investigation into balcony boy’s identity. james bond has nothing on me yourbff Happy looks sooooo good on you babe ♥ liked by author  user24 the note OH LET ME KILL MYSELF !!!!!!!!!! hunterh beautiful girl! ♥ liked by author user25 this has gone on long enough WHO IS HE ⤷ user26 She’s allowed to keep it private for as long as she wants! ⤷ user25 "keep it private" blah blah blah consider i’m living vicariously through her and i want to know :) ⤷ user27 that's definitely a ferrari he's driving in slide 3... bawsixteen Belle chérie ♥ liked by author user28 oh i just KNOW balcony boy is sooooooo fine

───────── ☆ ─────────

REDDIT: TOP POSTS TODAY r/yourusername • crossposted to r/formula1 • 3h ago posted by u/luvleclerc

hear me out… i think i know who balcony boy is!

okay i know this sounds insane but LISTEN. i’ve been reading y/n’s substack for ages and am also a huge fan of formula one. i’m absolutely convinced that balcony boy is charles leclerc. 

EVIDENCE so yall don’t call me crazy:

so y/n moved to monaco a few months ago, and posted this photo from her balcony. she’s never said exactly where she lives but you can see the harbor in the background and we know charles lives near there. and this story he posted the other day? like not to be a stalker but tell me that’s not almost exactly the same view. almost like they're neighbors... also the timeline of her moving to monaco almost perfectly matches when charles started posting less on socials!!!

then we get into the balcony boy content, which if you haven’t read… oh my god. y/n’s writing is so beautiful that it doesn’t even make you feel bad about being painfully single. balcony boy literally feels like a romcom hero come to life. she doesn’t drop a ton of personal details about him but here’s what she HAS said:

“Some people flirt with their eyes and their smile. Others, apparently, do it by playing you a piano étude at golden hour, notes drifting on the sea breeze like a love song.” … guess who else FAMOUSLY plays piano????? charles marc hervé perceval leclerc.

balcony boy is genuinely curious about her writing and reads all her essays. this is exactly how charles is in interviews - always engaged and thoughtful with questions.

balcony boy is fine with being written about and isn’t bothered that y/n is somewhat well known. sounds like a person who already knows how it feels to be in the spotlight!!!!

“Dating a man who’s gone every other weekend means learning to say goodbye. But even when he’s on the other side of the world, he never makes me feel like he’s far away.” F1 CALENDAR HELLO…

mentioned that balcony boy grew up near where they live (“knows the streets of this place like the lyrics of his favorite song”). prince of monaco!!!! i rest my case!!!!

one last thing: her most recent posts are totally a soft launch and the guy’s hair in the 1st slide looks EXACTLY like charles's. plus there’s this comment from someone called @ bawsixteen about the flowers like he gave them to her? i checked the account and it’s private with no profile photo, but the display name says CL. cl… sixteen… it CAN’T be a coincidence!!

⬆ 16.1K ⬇  •  🗨 897  •  ➦ SHARE

TOP COMMENTS u/f1gossipgirl • 3h ago  this is the most unhinged thing i’ve ever read but you’ve convinced me ⬆ 3.4K ⬇

u/fromthedeskof • 48m ago NOOOOO PLEASEEE not my favorite microinfluencer i can’t have everyone finding out about her… she’s MY parasocial bestie ⬆ 2.5K ⬇ ⤷ u/albonnation • 11m ago it's too late she has wag allegations :( she’s about to blow up ⬆ 332 ⬇ ⤷ u/everythingyn • 9m ago rip to our cozy lil substack community, she will be missed 💔 ⬆ 597 ⬇

u/BeanbagGreg • 1h ago  This subreddit is focused on racing. Stick to discussion of driving please ⬆ 1.7K ⬇ ⤷ u/piastriwdc • 26m ago literally no one asked you to read this… how many times do we have to teach you this lesson old man? ⬆ 4.8K ⬇

u/romanticrealist • 35m ago  ok grandma let’s get you to bed ⬆ 992 ⬇ ⤷ u/sallyrooneyluvbot • 6m ago Literally like as if she would ever date an athlete?? Be so fr ⬆ 81 ⬇ ⤷ u/landoleclerc • 2m ago um have you SEEN charles leclerc? don’t you ever speak on my goat like that ⬆ 133 ⬇

u/charlesdefender • 2h ago  wait she’s sooooo pretty what’s her instagram ⬆ 689 ⬇

SEE MORE...

───────── ☆ ─────────

@ yourusername • instagram notifications you have (8,692) new follow requests from @ leclercwdc, @ charloslover, @ f1ella and others !

───────── ☆ ─────────

───────── ☆ ─────────

───────── ☆ ─────────

liked by charles_leclerc, bawsixteen, and 95,214 others yourusername privacy sign on the door… taking balcony boy offline for now xx

charles_leclerc Je t’aime ♥ liked by author

comments have been limited on this post

[ask-anya-anything]

Hello , I'm Anya, I'm a nurse at Pony Express and I'm here to answer your most burning questions...

//OOC: Asks are now open! Please treat the Tulpar Crew as real people- respectfully. They don't know what will happen, and neither do you. The setting , time in the timeline, will be revealed as more questions are asked.

Keep in mind that this blog has mature themes that may deal with heavy subjects, . Viewer discretion is advised. Specifically topics about abusive behavior, sexual assault, body horror, emetophobia , ableism and alot more uncomfortable topics. I will try my best to present these as respectfully as possible, and not attempt to sugarcoat nor romanticize them. Mod is 19 years old ^^

AU INFO: This is canon divergent, and is actually set post crash with a few things different:

-They all share one laptop on slow internet and therefore have access to the internet.

- Curly is only semi burned, but is semi-verbal due to shock.

- Jimmy is now captain. Curly "stepped down" to co-captain.

-Anya is the protagonist of this story.

-There is now a cat on board.

-Curly was not able to inform them of the company letting them go.

-This is 2 weeks after the crash.

(You can direct lore/AU questions to the mod, @nakakabaliw ^^)

Do's/Don'ts

DOs

-You are allowed to joke/flirt with the crew but dont be freaky!

-You can ask for other crew members.

DON'TS

-Do not ask questions that they wouldnt have a clue what is (i.e: What the cargo holds, Jimmy's true self), it will be revealed eventually.

-Roleplaying sadly wont be accepted, this is purely an ask blog with its own story. (But i will be open to collabing with other ask blogs perhaps!)

[spread-the-influence]

OH COOL ! A MASTERPOST !

a horror-comedy fan comic based on The Amazing Digital Circus where ragatha's the host of a parasitical virus and it becomes everyone's problem ! neat-o beans !

* this is also a VERY buttonblossom / pomni x ragatha-centric AU so if you don't enjoy that ship i don't recommend engaging with this sorry

[DISCLAIMER!] while this comic is mostly lighthearted in tone , this comic and au will contain topics that could disturb sensitive readers ! this includes ; graphic violence , depictions and discussions of emotional abuse , depictions of mental health issues , self-harm implications and imagery , obsession , and discussions of suicide . any more specifics will be tagged in the pages , but these are the ones that encompass the Entire comic basically !

( also i hope it's a given that i'm not romanticizing the toxic yuri in this au , )

if any of these topics make you uncomfortable , it's alright to click away or block the #tadc influence au tag .

!! if you want to support this comic , try sharing and talking about it in other platforms OR throw some money at my ko-fi page ! it'll be radical either way !!

LINKS

>> READ THE BEGINNING !

or , if you prefer ...

* TABLE OF CONTENTS ( returning reader or just someone who's not up for scrolling through the tags ? here's the table of contents ! contains links to the comic pages all in one place , any extras , and possible relevant posts in the >>info; tag ! )

* FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ! ( questions that i have constantly been asked ! )

* AU POST ! ( for those who have read the comic and are curious about the au — and people that want to spoil the first half of the comic for themselves . i don't judge ! )

** OFFICE LORE POST ( not a necessary read , but would be cool to read if you're interested in the backstory for ... some reason ! )

* INFO CARDS ! ( info cards for the characters , just for funsies ! will contain blank templates for any ocs (: )

TAGS

[ highlighted are those of relevance + may be interesting ! ]

>>COMIC; - the comic ( be warned things will be out of order )

>>INFO; - specific asks about the au answered !

>>ASK; - old roleplay posts if you want to see em

>>MISC; - answered asks / non-comic stuff

WARNING: ESSAY - mod rambles

>>DOODLES; - doodles from yours truly

>>PRE-FLUENCE; - stuff before the horrors

>>POST-FLUENCE; - stuff after the horrors

>>ANIMATIONS; - ... animations

>>OFFICE LORE; - pre-circus

>>REBLOGS; - ... reblogs !

>>EXTRAS; - some extras or ' ambiguously canon ' comics !

GUIDELINES & BOUNDARIES

READ THE FAQ , PLEASE ! there are some questions that are , well , frequently asked ! so please read the faq and only send an ask if the question's not there

this is NOT an ask blog ! i will sometimes play along with ask blog-esque asks , but that's only just once in a while — so just please only ask me , the mod , for anything about the au !

you can call me mod bee . i go by she/her in this account

keep it impersonal please ! i would prefer if the asks are related to the au , my art , or tadc . i'm fine with being asked about my interests or what i think of something but otherwise , i appreciate if you do not ask about my life or what timezone i'm in .

my art is free to use ! feel free to use it as an icon , in an edit — anything really as long as you don't sell it or it's not used to spread hateful messages ! my only condition really is to credit me

reposts are fine ! just please make it clear that you did NOT create the art and LINK the account . i gave the free rein to repost the art , all i'm asking is to please respect these conditions !

please do not dm me . i do not like dms . any form of communication is only through the ask box .

this is not a tadc art requests blog so please don't send me any , i am Not going to draw your ship or draw ragatha as that animal . any requests should be about the au itself , or if you want me to draw a particular character .

i am uncomfortable with nsfw asks so please don't send them . i am fine with suggestive humor , though

remember to spread the influence.

[welpuu]

Do you want to get into ALIEN STAGE but don't know how?

Introducing the Intro to ALIEN STAGE Masterdoc! I've compiled the MVs + lore relevant or older official media for you to better understand the story :) (among other things)

please share this around if you need to :)

please note that I did all of this alone so might be a few mistakes in release orders and other things 💀

Please please feel free to suggest things that I can add or fix

I tried to give the feeling I had when I was waiting for each release and lore drop in real time

also there isn't any like purely wholesome or miscellaneous art that doesn't have any lore/tidbits or foreshadowing attached to it on here because I feel like you can find those on your own after seeing everything else

*aside from actor au because that's its own thing now

comics are a little different but most of them are important so i put most

Edit: I also decided to add the promo images of each round

Edit 2: birthday arts added

[wasyago]

Please more Trail's gone cold au I'm begging you I need it just pour out every thought in your brain I want to hear it

hgdhhfbd i mean, sure why not

everything plot related is in the main post, there's nothing else really to tell. but i could share random details that didn't really fit into the lore drop. again tho, it's a small au and mostly an exploration of the concept, so there's not a lot.

❄️ gem and etho are siblings, i don't think it was mentioned anywhere? blood related and all that, they both have black hair, gem just dyes hers.

❄️ behind the scenes reasons for the order of deaths. generally i picked these three to be the main cast because i suddenly realized pet crew were just dungeon master and his two winners, and that was too crazy of a concept to not do anything with? so, tango as the main guy and actual master of the dungeon had to die first, seeing how he's the cave's favorite. pearl as the main explorer and as the one to unlock all the secrets had to die second, because she had to return to the dungeon / the cave to find out the truth, and she conquered it but never actually got out. and etho had to survive, because he's the "proper" winner and the one who actually escaped the dungeon with treasures.

❄️ lore reasons for the order of infection. tango you already know, but pearl and etho went in at the same time so in theory they had to start experiencing the effects together. but because etho was wearing a mask it did lessen the amount of sculk he inhaled, slowing down the process. wear masks kids!

and, well, you did say you wanted to hear every thought so. i really like the plot point of them leaving tango to die, so im gonna ramble a little about it. even just, the difference in their views on the situation is so satisfying to me. because tango had no idea something scary was happening to him! and for pearl and etho it was a life or death situation. and just-- they were talking about leaving tango and tango obviously, obviously, protested, because what the actual hell??? yes okay he's ill and a burden, but don't leave an ill guy to freeze to death in a cave, what is wrong with them????? or, okay, what is wrong with etho, pearl was against the idea. but, straight up tango did not plan for it to end this way, he had his whole life ahead of him and so many things ha still wanted to do! of course he cried when they left, what else was he supposed to do? thank etho for his awesome decision? be all cool and stoic and sacrifice himself? hell no, he didn't want to die, he never asked for this.

he did die tho, so. whomp whomp 🎺... i imagine he passed before pearl and etho even reached the stairs, so at least he didn't suffer for long. if he had a breakdown about being left alone he probably hyperventilated and inhaled like a ton more sculk, so that killed him even faster. must've sucked tho...

and then pearl, god, pearl.... she didn't encounter any dangers on the way back, since she wasn't trying to escape and the cave had no reason to be hostile towards her. but seeing how she was at the last stage before turning... she probably didn't get to tango before collapsing... not dying just yet, but too feverish and too weak to walk. but if tango was already back, he could very much go and find her. can you imagine the pure horror of drowning in your regrets as you slowly die and then having your supposedly already dead friend appear in front of you all cheery and oh so wrong. i dont know how much of tango is left in that thing, but the image of him sitting by pearl and holding her until she dies is so-- its haunting but it's sweet. and then there's still enough time to catch up with etho.

actually, gahhhh, all three pet povs are their own unique horror story and it's so good.

the horror of having to go through this terrifying experience, and then being the only survivor, knowing full well that the only reason you lived is because you left your friends to die, and there's no way of fixing it now.

the horror of everything falling apart around you because of miscommunication, and then the one time you decide to do it right you end up regretting every single decision and witnessing the direct result of your mistakes come for you.

the horror of being stupid... the horror of losing all control over your life and being betrayed in the moment of your most vulnerability, dying fully and utterly helpless.

this au is so sad but i love it so much...

okay wow that's enough for one post, ask more if you want tho!

[ablobwhowrites]

That soul jam of compassion was so good!! Please, I beg for more!!

This is probably just some lore stuff cause I don't know if I'll cook with fic for it. But also here's the first fic of this au here.

The new y/n and the ancient y/n who sacrificed themselves are kinda two different cookies. Cause reborn y/n is kinda like a exact copy of ancient y/n except for minor changes cause when I tell you ancient y/n actual got incinerated like they where just cookie crumbs at that point.

Plus it I ever do make another fic for this au. Then let me tell you, the ancients are devastated cause y/n has bascially no memories of them, the adventures they went on, making their first kingdoms or even how they met. That y/n is gone for good like I'm not joking when I was writing the fic I got reminded of that tiktok audio of when that girl lost her applepen in her blanket so that's why ancient y/n is dead. (If it wasn't for that video to pop up in my head then maybe y/n would have lived.) But this reborn y/n cookie is basically like a timeline of y/n never became a ancient but y/n is treated like one when looking for shelter in the kingdom built for them.

I do imagine y/n being able to easily befriend a lot of cookies on their travels like how they did before when they were a ancient. But the other ancients don't want to lose y/n again, the friend that saved their kingdoms and themselves from being hurt by the blast of the spell but their soul jam is looking for them and trying to reconnect with them but y/n hasn't connected with their necklace that could basically house the soul jam in cause if they do then they'll become a ancient again but the cycle will happen again as well. Cause like think of it and how horrible that would be to see your best friend in the whole wide world basically sacrifice themselves and basically be evaporated before your eyes but come back like almost decades later like nothing happen but they aren't the same, they don't remember you or even recognize you like they haven't even seen you or just forgot all those memories, the quiet moments, the moments filled with laughter, celebration and sadness or fear and anger just all gone. Plus the legendaries seeing y/n basically reset because y/n doesn't remember them to as they know the sacrifice y/n had made just like their mom.

But I love the thought of y/n cookie just reuniting with hollyberry cookie after princess cookie invited them over for the night as hollyberry was hosting a party and when hollyberry saw y/n, she took a quick second to let her mind process if that really y/n and when she realized it was y/n. She gave y/n probably the biggest bear hug known in earthbread as poor y/n would have been crushed to death if princess cookie didn't step in but the realization of y/n actually not being her y/n hadn't set in yet and hollyberry changed the party into a celebration of y/n's return. I have so much planned for this au.

(that's all for my short yap session for now. But if you like this or want to share your ideas please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[daisy-the-spider]

Pie in the sky, wouldn’t it be neat if we had a UTMV fighting game?

You could choose from casts of characters from all the big AU canons as well as smaller one-offs (og Error vs Underverse Error for example, each with slightly different move sets based on characterization and lore). There could even be a customizer so you can put in your own oc and pick from a library of move sets, specials, and finishers.

Each pairing could have a little interaction at the start of each match like in SF3 Third Strike. Just a 3-second animation that tells us how they feel about each other. Star sanses and papyri shake hands or wave, chill sanses/swaps grin coldly at murderers (or fist bump other chill sanses), dream twins share an uncomfortable stare, Geno blanches at the sight of a FatalError.

There could be specials specific to characters, complete with little drawbacks. Like if ink activates a special, it eats up all his ink and he goes numb and uncommandable (played by a dumb cpu) for a bit until it refills. Or a bigger tougher fell sans has a more potent special than a weaker/younger one, but it has a bigger penalty or you can only do it once—so you better not miss.

Finishers would be the coolest part, recreating the most exciting moments or deepest cuts in their lore. Cross creates an X-event by getting possessed by X-Gaster. Nightmare goes god mode or calls in the whole bad sans squad. Fresh’s parasite body-hops into the opponent and lets the old body fall to pieces. A pacifist convinces the opponent to knock it off with all the violence. If a character has a best pal who would never make it in a fighting game, they pop up in the finisher by dropping a piano on the opponent or something.

I’ve never played a real fighting game in my damn life, but I think they’re fascinating and I can’t get this idea out of my head. The best part of this fandom for me is the insane unbridled depth and variety, and this could be such a cool way to celebrate it. Could be a fun thing to make fake sprites/screens/stats of someday.

(If someone’s already thought of this, please please please link it to me.)

[ihavethedreamiesx]

Matter of Pride | Hongjoong [NSFW]

Kim Hongjoong - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.8k

Pairing: Lion-Hybrid!Hongjoong x Gazelle-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical?/Ancient?, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, very tiny mention of noncon, Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet, Love, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Biting & Scratching & Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!Hongjoong (not really, he's a lion hybrid)

Author's Note: Okay, here we go lol. This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny lion cock. Hongjoong is not necessarily bigger than reality, the reader is just small. I did also imagine this more to be set in the steppe of Central Asia/Southern Siberia rather than Africa.

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐯 San's 🐯

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

Revised (1/31/25)

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Ever since you were a calf, the elders of your herd told you to stay away from predators. You aren’t for sure why though, since all they told you is that they’re dangerous. You find that quite odd considering you’re not full animals, and as far as you know, predator hybrids do not literally eat prey hybrids. There’s probably some ancient lore-based superstition or something, and it isn’t till you’re older do you really think about the real facts. Despite logically knowing that they aren’t going to eat you alive, you are still a bit scared about meeting a predator.

One day you’re traversing the rocky steppe of your homeland, right at the foothills of the mountains. Crouching down, you run your fingers through the grass, feeling for the tell-tale mound of the root you’re looking for. The sun is beginning to set, the cool of late spring settling in the air.

"No." you grumble, not feeling anything. Standing back up, your attention is quickly drawn to a new sound. Your furry ear, sticking out from the side of your head, flicks at the noise. The wind shifts and your sensitive smell picks up something unfamiliar, but it triggers a deeper, primal part of you. Predators. Logic tries to fight back against instinct, the sound is voices, not the growls of an actual animal. Still, your heart races, the sound of blood pumping thuds in your ears. Your furry tail swishes back and forth nervously, and despite your apprehensions, you move toward the voices. Finding a path that leads a bit further into the foothills, you see fresh boot marks. Gently, like doing so might trigger something, you place your own foot in the print, the size difference is striking. You’re not a child, you’re actually quite a bit bigger than the other women of your herd, but… A boisterous laugh hits your ears, your head turning toward it on its own, instinctually. Swallowing hard, you follow the tracks and when you come around a large boulder, you peer around it. There’s a small clearing created by tall, jutting rocks, and a camp has been set up there. Three figures sit around a firepit, great furry pelts wrapped around their shoulders and necks. Lions. There’s a fourth figure, leaning against one of the rocks, making him closest to you. Peering closer, you see he’s… beautiful. Sharp eyes and jawline, his hair isn’t as long nor as shaggy as the others. His pelt is much nicer as well, and he’s the only one with a tunic shirt on underneath his pelt. A large axe-like knife is attached to his belt, and he has a deep red cloth tied around his bicep. You feel the end of your tail brushing over the rock as it sways, your nose twitching as the wind carries their scent. You have a hard time pinpointing the exact fragrance, but the one closest to you is the most potent. And the most pleasant. The three around the fire smell like the smoke wafting around them, and like sweat and dirt. The other one though, he smells like spiced tea and fragrant tree bark. The wind shifts again, coming up from behind you, carrying your scent right into the clearing. You barely have time to realize what happened, trying to back away and completely out of sight, but he notices. As you duck to hide, his deep golden-brown eyes meet your own. The intense look shoots fear through your very DNA and you turn to bolt, using your species' long and fast legs to sprint. You don’t make it very far though, and the back of your tunic is seized, and you bleat as you’re hauled back. Turning to look at your captor as best as you can, it’s the handsome one. He smells even better so close and looks even better. Your face is hot, for many different reasons, and you wonder if he can smell your fear. Is that an actual thing?

"What's wrong Hongjoong?" One of the other lions calls and he’s able to hide you with his own body. He isn’t as big as the others, but still a good seven or eight inches taller than you.

"Smelled a doe, I'm going to see if I can get her." He shouts back and they go back to their raucous conversation. The lion holding you wraps his arm around your middle rather than gripping your tunic and easily carries you around the boulder fully and down the slope. You hang there, not sure what else you can do, and he only lets you go when he gets to the end of the path that led you in.

"S-sorry!" You spin around to face him, not trusting him at your back, "I wasn’t eavesdropping!"

"I'm not worried about that, doll. Be glad the smoke covered your scent for the others."

"W-why? Will they…" You swallow hard, your quivering obvious to him. So are your twitching ears, and he can see your tunic shifting from your wagging tail.

"Will they eat me?" Your question throws him off, to the point that he flinches back.

"What?" He huffs, "No, of course not. Is that what you’re told?" You shrug, feeling embarrassed now.

"That's not what I'm worried they would do to a cute thing like you." Your arm reaches around your back, twisting so you can wrap your fingers around the end of your braid, tugging on it. You can’t meet his gaze, especially because you understand his implication. Also, you aren’t sure how you feel about him calling you cute.

"What are you doing around here? What herd are you with?"

"I was gathering herbs…I'm with the gazelle herd southwest of here." You motion vaguely behind you.

"What were you looking for?"

"Valerian root. It's too early for the plant to be flowering so it's hard to find." He doesn’t reply for a bit, glancing behind him.

"There's a big tree, east of your village?"

"Y-yes?" You’re a little concerned he knows the area so well, but at the same time if they know where your herd is, and have left it be, it’s probably okay.

"What else have you been looking for?" His change of subject catches you off guard, but you answer.

"Meet me at that tree tomorrow evening, and I'll have some for you. Don't come back this way, those others aren't safe."

"You are, though?" Your question doesn’t sound as bold as you want it to. He chuckles a bit, then exhales hard through his nose.

"Short answer, yes. I don’t want to be working with them, but I don't have a choice right now."

"What do you want in return?" You ask, why would he help you just to be nice? It’ll be a lot of work to gather the herbs you’re looking for.

"We'll see how hard it is, then I'll tell you. Deal?" He holds his hand out and you eye it. Finally, taking it, the strength behind the grip jolts you.

"I'm Hongjoong. Do you have a name I can call you?" He smirks softly and you pull away from the handshake likes he’s burned you suddenly.

"(Y/N). About this time?"

"Sure, doll. Now go home, and don't come back here." Hongjoong steps back and nods for you to do so. Turning back to look at him a few times as you go, you trot back home, your bag lighter than you had planned on it being.

All through the next day, your eyes keep flitting to the sun behind the clouds, waiting for it to reach the right point in the sky. You’re glad you’re the head healer, if you hadn’t come back with a good haul before your mentor retired, she would’ve swatted your hands. In the beginning, it was weird to return to an empty tent, but after nearly six months, you’re used to it. It isn’t like she’s dead; it’s just weird she isn’t there anymore. Your hands move on muscle memory as you work through the day, thoughts spiraling, always returning to the image of the lion you meet the day prior. It doesn’t help that he’s so attractive, the encounter would’ve been significantly less captivating without that factor. It’s clear he doesn’t like his comrades, even past that, his appearance is very different from theirs. He’d been standing far away from them as well and had even lied when he found you.

The closer toward the horizon the sun grows, the more distracted you get, and you’re so antsy that for the last hour before the designated time, you stand at the edge of the village. Some of your herd have questioned your odd behavior through the day, and you brushed it off, telling them you’re thinking hard about where to find more herbs. That time of year is difficult with so many different plants sprouting up, and most people accept your reasoning. Only your mother wasn’t convinced, but she also knows not to press too hard, or you’ll lose your patience. You don’t have too much of that to begin with.

From where you’re standing, you can kind of see where the tree is, well, the rock that’s hiding it. It’s behind the big rock. Glancing up at the darkening sky, you can finally see the twinkling of the northernmost star, and you start to trek out. After you descend the slope, and get over the hill after it, you know you’re out of sight, and break into a quicker pace. For some reason, you’re excited. Is it the thrill of doing something that others will frown upon? Is it that you get to bask in the presence of the extremely attractive lion once more?

You reach the boulder faster than normal, it seems your body is just as eager, and has decided to move faster than your brain realized. Swallowing hard, your hand brushes over the smooth stone surface as you move around it, peaking around. Feeling a small sense of déjà vu, when you can see around the rock, you see him under the tree.

"There's no need to hide, doll." His voice is warm, and you giggle a little in embarrassment, fully coming around. Right when you get close enough, he takes a bundle off his shoulder, leaves poking out from the leather wrap. Taking it gently, you crouch down so you can untie it and look. You gasp seeing everything that’s there. Not only did he find everything you needed, but there’s also a lot there.

"H-How did you get so much?" You look up at him from your squat and he shrugs. No verbal response, but you’re too grateful to question.

"H-here." You reach into your own bag, your string of coins jingling as you pull it out.

"No, (Y/N). You don't need to pay me."

"But!" When you move to give him the coins, he wraps his fingers over yours, so they wrap around the metal pieces.

"What do you want as payment then?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I have, um. I have this mulled wine my grandfather makes…" You go back to your bag, going to unite the cord of the wineskin.

"No."

"Um, okay, I have…" You shuffle stuff around in your bag, looking for the flute you still don’t really know how to play.

"(Y/N). You don't have to give me anything, it’s fine." He’s closer then, trying to get you to stop your frantic search. His fingers go to your chin, forcing your head to tip back so you can meet his gaze.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes." He drops his hand and steps back once more, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"N-nothing?" You feel bad, it would have taken you hours to gather that much.

"If you really want, you can sit and talk to me for a bit?" He suggests and the request flabbergasts you.

"Really?" Hongjoong hums with a nod, turning so he can move to the tree, sitting at the base in a divot in the large roots. Sitting down next to him, you truly feel small then, scratching at a root with your blunt fingernail. Your eyes go to his own hands, sharp claws sit at the end of each finger. You also have noticed when he smiles, his canine teeth are bigger and sharper. His golden-blonde hair, rounded ears, and tufted tail all scream that he’s a lion, even if his demeanor doesn’t. He isn’t scary, but he’s majestic and beautiful.

"Have you ever met a lion before me?" He rests against the tree trunk, and you shake your head.

"Have you ever met a predator?"

"Not really. Just seen them from afar." You pick at a dried bit of some poultice you made that stuck on your tunic skirt.

"You aren’t as afraid as I thought you’d be, then."

"If it had been one of the others, maybe."

"Why am I different?" Hongjoong's gaze on you makes your face hot, you can’t return the look.

"You could’ve given me away to the others, and you didn’t." Yep, that’s it. Nothing more to it.

"That's it?" He sounds a bit disappointed.

"Why didn’t you?"

"I told you; I don't care for them."

"Then why are you travelling with them?"

"It's hard to be a solo male out here. It's easier to work with a group before I try and get my own pride."

"Oh. So, like, a bunch of wives?"

"More like two or three. Not like full lions, but..." He doesn’t sound super eager for even that.

"Are all lion hybrids like that?"

"More or less. Never appealed to me much, to be honest."

"Really?" This piques your interest, and you don’t dwell too much on why.

"It's rare for lions to have one spouse, out in the wilds anyway. I've debated leaving for the capital, but…"

"Why not?"

"I don't mind living off the land, but I don't know where else to go to find a wife. Most lionesses also want to be in a pride, like some ancient call."

"Huh."

"Are gazelle monogamous?"

"Hybrids are. Have a shit ton of kids though." Your response makes him laugh; the sound rumbling through you.

"Can you roar like a full lion?" You’re too curious. You needto know.

"Uh, no. Can you actually bleat like a full gazelle?"

"Not really…" Now you feel stupid, ears flicking nervously. Your tail thumps a bit on the ground, your eyes meandering down to look at his. It’s much longer than yours, like his full animal brethren.

"What about you?"

"Me?" You look up at him.

"Do you want to get married and have a shit ton of kids?"

You hum in thought. No. It’s more because you don’t want to be pressed into a mold. Most herbalists never marry, let alone have offspring, that’s part of the reason you chose the trade.

"No."

"You even want kids?"

"Don't know. One might be nice, but that's not how it works…" You stare in the distance toward your village.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"I'm the oldest of eleven."

"Fuck." He huffs and his reaction makes you burst into a guffaw.

"Yes."

"Is your mother…okay?" This makes you laugh harder.

"Uh, I can't imagine five singletons plus three sets of twins would make anyone okay."

"Not your ideal future?"

"Oh, fuck, no." Hongjoong smiles at your obvious newly relaxed state. It’s then you notice the sun has set completely, little white stars twinkling in the dark purple abyss.

"I need to get back!" You shoot up, retying the bundle he’s given you.

"Wait!" He stops you with a hand on your wrist. Turning to look back at him, he licks his lips, letting you go.

"Can you meet me back here in two days? Same time?" Your eyes widen a bit at the request, but you feel a smile tug at your lips.

"Yeah, I can."

~υ.υ~

You do go back like he asked.

"You came!" Hongjoong seems genuinely surprised, standing up straight from where he’s been leaning against the tree.

"Of course?" You’re genuinely surprised at his reaction, "why wouldn’t I?"

"I was a bit worried you only came last time for the herbs…" He won’t look straight at you, and you notice he has something in his hand. It’s obviously plants.

"Is that why you brought that?" You point to them, and he brings them around from behind his back.

"Y-yeah."

"Hongjoong. You're the first guy that still gives me the time of day after saying I don’t want to have twelve children." You motion behind you toward your village, "honestly I've been really impatient, waiting for…now." Your face warms and you swipe your leg back and forth, drawing an arch in the dirt with your toe.

"You're the first girl who didn’t look at me weird when I said I only want one wife…" He huffs, the confident smirk coming back to his face.

"Is it weird that we're so different?" You voice the obvious concern between both of you.

"Maybe. But it doesn't feel like it."

~é_è~

For nearly two months you meet at the tree, every two days. One night, under a full moon, when you arrive at the tree, he meets you right as you arrive, immediately sweeping you into his arms. A bit shocked, you return the hug, warmth flooding your entire body. You speak like normal, sitting together, shoulder to shoulder. That time though, there’s something in the air. You can’t place your finger on it, and when you go to leave for the night, he hugs you once more. When he pulls back, his hand goes to cup your cheek.

"I…I don’t want to let you go." He barely pulls away from the hug but does release you. His head is bowed to be closer to yours, forehead brushing yours.

"Hongjoong?" You aren’t for sure what he means, considering he literally lets you go.

"Run away with me. Come to me. Stay with me." He tilts his head, nose brushing yours, his breath mingling with yours. Tears prick your eyes, a rush of emotions knocking your breath away as he steals it. His lips are hot on yours and a tear escapes your eye. When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, and he grimaces at your tears.

"Tomorrow. I'll come to you. Here?" You ask, ready and willing. You do want to at least say goodbye to your family, gather your things…

"No. There's a cave near where we first met-"

"Behind the vines?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there."

~/)>3</)~

Your mother doesn’t ask too many questions. She knows there’s been something on your mind, and she knows and sees that you aren’t happy in the village. You never will be, especially not after meeting Hongjoong. You don’t have the heart to tell your father, so you say goodbye to him like it’s any other time you go to gather herbs. It isn’t like you’ll never see them again, but you aren’t sure when you’ll go back, not sure where you’ll end up. With one last glance behind you, you leave your village, your bag more full than usual, but no one notices.

Standing at the entrance of the cave, you swallow hard, parting the hanging vines and stepping in. He’s there. Of course he is, it seems he’s been living there. A very convenient hole lays in the ceiling, casting the sunlight in. The whole cave smells of him, and once he sees you, he moves forward. You gasp, his hands cupping your jaw, lips sealing over yours. This kiss isn’t anything like the time before. Hongjoong pulls back slightly, just so you can breathe, and you whimper at the loss. Your tail rapidly flits back and forth behind you, ears twitching just as fast. Hongjoong's spiced aroma has grown stronger, a slight rumbling building in his chest. His hands are still holding your jaw, the claw on his thumb just barely ghosting over your skin. Stepping even closer, your hands fall on his chest, and you marvel at the hard muscle underneath the pelt around his shoulders. The rumble grows stronger under your touch, and you can already feel your core clench around nothing. Swallowing hard, you breathe in his scent, over and over, likes it’s a drug.

"Fuck, (Y/N)."  He practically growls, one hand moving to rest on your waist. His face buries into the crook of your neck; nose pressed to your jugular. Your blood spikes and you feel your entire body shudder. You’re unsure if it’s arousal, or a sense of danger, having the large fangs of a predator near your weakest spot.

"You smell so good." Hongjoong groans, hauling you closer, leaving barely a space between you.

"Like what?" You want to add, 'like a meal or a mate?', but don’t want to ruin the moment.

"Like when the apricots blossom." His other hand on your jaw moves instead to the back of your head, the one on your waist to the small of your back. You gasp at the pressure of his body, feeling him growing hard against your stomach. His face leaves your neck, and he kisses you again. You wonder if that’s what the elders implied by being eaten alive. His tongue has easily entered your mouth, swiping over yours, his large canines clacking against your much blunter ones. You expected his tongue to be rough, but he didn’t know yours would be as well, though not nearly as coarse as your full animal kin. It seems though, that he’s literally drooling, the extra saliva makes his tongue glide around yours. You whimper again, the muffled noise is nearly a bleat, and the rumble of his chest nearly a roar. Hongjoong's lips leave yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouths, another trail leaving the corner of his mouth. He licks away the extra, breaking the trail, his pupils have narrowed to slits. Your own pupils are blown wide, the black nearly eclipsing the color of your iris. Part of you feels the need to run, flee, that you’re being hunted. Somehow though, that thought turns you on all the more.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"Huh?"

"Once I have you, I won’t let you go." His voice rumbles through you, straight to your cunt, and your scent of arousal builds to the point you can smell it yourself. The spiced bark of his own aroma fills your nostrils, making your thoughts hazy.

"You already have me." You reply, voice very soft, to keep it from shaking. Your brain doesn’t register his next move till it’s already done, your back pinned to the rock of the cave, his hand still on the back of your head to make sure it doesn’t smash against the stone.

"Tell if it hurts too bad." His voice is in your ear, nose pushing against the collar of your tunic. Your hands around his neck move to his upper back, gripping hard into the pelt as his teeth sink into your shoulder. Your eyes roll back, the stinging pain just arouses you further, and his hips rut forward once, pressing his even harder cock against your tummy. As his fangs leave your skin, he licks over the spot, and you flinch at the sting. Just then, his scent spikes, the aroma becoming sweeter, mingling with yours. You know predators bond through mating bites, but you had no idea what it would do to your body. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, blood rushes in your ears and a drop of slick starts to flow down your inner thigh.

"Gotta warn you, sweetheart." He huffs, a cocky smirk gracing his features, tongue licking over the drop of blood still on his lip. He palms his hard-on through his tunic pants, "might look a little different than you're expecting."

"Huh?" You aren’t fully registering what he’s getting at. Hongjoong's fingers wrap around yours, bringing your hand to his covered cock, letting you palm over him yourself. You whimper, you have dealt with plenty of naked males being a healer, and none compare. The thing that you notice - what he’s really talking about - are the little spines at the base of his cock and below the head. Your eyes widen, normally that would concern you some, but your body is ready and waiting. Eager even, begging.

"They don't hurt like a full lion’s, but I wanted you to know."

"I don't care, I just want you to split me open on it." Your bold declaration makes him chuckle, his tongue licking against the tip of your ear. It flicks under the touch and the hand at your head brings your lips back to his. He swallows your mewls, the hand he has on your back moves lower, gripping the base of your tail. When he tugs, a bleat escapes your throat, and his hard thigh nestles between your quivering ones. He immediately feels the heat of your cunt through the thin leather of his tunic pants, your slick quickly dripping over the material.

"You're soaked, love." He presses harder, your hips jumping, the slight friction intensified by whatever hex he seems to have you under.

"Sorry, sweet. You're sending me into a rut." His chest is rumbling again, deeper than before, "It'll be hard to hold back." Is that what is happening to you? Is he putting you into heat? Yours are normally extremely weak since you’re unmated, is it much worse because he’s a predator? Does your body need to compensate for his own body’s greater power? The hand on your tail moves to cup your butt, then to your thigh, prompting you to pronk up and into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, the bulge of his cock pressing over your bare cunt and you whine, breath hitching. You feel so small then, he easily holds you up against the cave wall, broad enough that most won’t even know you’re there but your legs around his middle. Hongjoong kisses over your neck, down to your collar bone, rough tongue searing over your skin. Your hands scramble, gripping and pulling at the pelt around his neck, trying to get it off. He helps you, reaching under to undo a small button and you pull it up over his head, letting it flop to the ground. His toned arms are fully on display then, the red cloth around his arm somehow makes the sight all the better. He never told you what it means, and you just assumes it’s an accessory. Before you can start trying to wrestle his tunic top off, he holds you to him, carrying you to a pile of pelts it seems he uses as a bed. Softly, he lays you down on it, but his following movements are anything but. He rips his shirt off and you don’t get time to ogle his bare torso because he proceeds to literally tear yours off. You were only been in a linen tunic dress, but still the ease with which he turns it to shreds is incredible arousing. His palms are rough against your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Hongjoo-!" Your breath is kicked from your lungs, vision spattering with dots of light when his tongue buries into your cunt. You hadn't even realized he was down there, hands pressing to your thighs to hold your legs open. Even the slight brush of his lips over your clit as his tongue licks over your walls is intense. A strong wave of pleasure is quickly cresting, your womb pulsing hard, walls clenching.

"Fuck~!" Little bleats and whimpers leave you, your tail whacking against the pelts beneath you, dull nails raking through his hair. While you’ve never had an orgasm, you know that's what’s rising. With how quickly he brings you up to and over the edge, you know you’re in for a long night. Hongjoong growls, his purr rumbling through his tongue into you, drinking your essence as it squirts from your cunt. Smirking, he pulls back, thumb gathering a drop from his chin so he can lick it off.

"You think your cute little cunt can take my cock?" His knuckles brushes through your folds, careful of his claws.

"Please, need it~" Your foot comes up, pressing over his hard-on. He grunts, wrapping his hand around your ankle, forcing it off so he can take his pants off. You watch, hazy eyes trying to focus as the leather hits the cave floor. Your eyes subsequently widen, brain fogging further. Little spines circle his cock, thick and long. Hongjoong kneels between your legs, spreading them and hooking one of your knees over his elbow to keep you open for him. He chuckles at the twitch your entire body seizes from when the hot head meets your dripping folds.

"It might sting, love." He warns once more, the thumb of his hand on your waist rubbing small circles over your hip. You nod, trying to relax but also steel yourself. Yes, it stings, it burns, but it’s amazing. Each little bit he sinks his fat cock into you, the little spines rub and pull at your walls. Your slick allows an easy glide, but his own head is swimming from the tight vice of your cunt, eagerly sucking him in. You shudder with each breath, heat searing through you from your core out, and he’s barely half-way in when you feel another orgasm cresting. You thought the pain would diminish the pleasure, but it’s the opposite, the burn heating you even further. Hongjoong lays kisses over your shoulder around his mark, letting you adjust to the stretch, even if it’s nearly painful for him to go so slow. As the head of his dick presses against your eager and weeping womb, the little spines at the base brush your clit and folds, and the final little push finishes you off. You throw your head back, eyelids fluttering, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders. He groans as your tight cunt pulses around him, more of your slick spurting out from where he’s filling you. When the waves of your orgasm fade, you’re still shuddering, tipsy on the pleasure.

"Ready, love?"

"Hongjoong~" You mewl, fingers rubbing over his hot skin, blunt nails scratching a path down from where you had them. Your other leg ends up hooked over his elbow as well, and when he pulls out, only about halfway, the little barbs tug at your gummy walls. He snaps his hips then, burying back inside, battering the fat head against your cervix. He was right, he can’t hold back. He wants to start slow, let you get used to it, but he can’t. The next thrust has no warning, his pace immediately relentless, your knees pressed up toward your ears. He’s fucking you stupid, the noises you let out sounding more and more like your animal kin, bleats and moans melding. Your body has gone limp, only your arms have any strength, hands digging into the pelt under your hips. Your head lolls and your breasts bounce with each thrust. You can’t think to let him know as he barrels through your third orgasm, more slick gushing from your cunt. His noises are animalistic at that point, anyone passing would think a real lion is rutting in that cave. His tongue runs over his long fangs, saliva spilling from his lips as he growls and grunts.

"Aw, fuck, (Y/N)." He chuckles, burying his cock as deep as he can, pressing those little spines against your groin, pumping your eager womb full. You aren’t even sure you can actually get pregnant, but he’s bound and determined to fill you to the point that it’ll leak out of you for days. The heat of his cum inside brings you over the edge too, a much smaller climax racking you. He’s still hard as a rock though. You gasp, your lungs spasming as he pulls his cock all the way out, those little barbs digging in. Your world spins, your chest and stomach to the pelts below then, and he yanks your hips up, sinking his cock back in once more. At this angle he gets even deeper somehow, each rough plow of his dick battering your back walls. Your vision blurs further, eyes rolling back, fingers futilely digging into the fur below you. His hips pummel against the skin of your ass hard, the smacking combined with his beastly grunts makes your ears twitch. His hand goes back to your tail, wrapping around the base, tugging a bit. Shivering shoots straight up your spine from where he has you, cunt weeping along with you, tears and drool leaving a puddle on the pelts under you.

"Fucking hell, love. You're so good for me~" He groans, chuckling as your walls flutter through another climax. Your cunt and clit sting from the overstimulation, but you need more, you need him to pump you full more. The bite on your shoulder flares with heat, so does your skin as his hands wrap around the small of your waist. His thrusts once again grow unsteady, instead they’re hard and shallow, pulling back just enough to rake those little barbs over your clit over and over.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You ramble, vision already spotting with white, then nearly scream when he comes again, spurts of white hot jizz leaking from your hole, not able to handle the amount. Your cunt spurts as well, the mix of your release leaving a mess on the pelts. You gasp for air, heart thudding, sweat dripping from your forehead. He’s still hard. Maybe that's why your people are warned about mixing with predators. His stamina is a beast in itself.

"Can you keep going love? Lions go for a whole day sometimes." Hongjoong groans when your cunt clenches again, really hoping you can keep going. His body needs yours, just as bad for both of you, and he wants to fuck you the rest of the week if he can. He might be able to, you on the other hand…

"Fuck me stupid, I don't- just your cock~!" You whine and moan, giggling like an idiot as his hips roll again. Picking back up to his monster pace again. Every drag of his dick seems to eek a tiny little orgasm out of you, your body strung so tight, it sings with every one of his movements. Your brain vaguely registers as the sunlight fades from the hole in the ceiling, fading to the cool moonlight. You don’t think you can walk for a week after, he’s fucked so many orgasms out of and into you, you lost count. Globs of thick seed slips out of your cunt when he finally pulls out, cock finally softening. Your face is blank, eyes open but barely conscious.

"Sleep, my love. I'll need you again in the morning."

Master-List

[sweetkpopmusings]

hongjoong coworker headcanons <3

a/n: a whole bunch of people got laid off at my company today, so it only seems right that i cope by escaping into thoughts of coworker!ateez <3 please enjoy the precious gem that is coworker!hongjoong :,-) pics not mine~

content: fluff, nonidol!au | wc: 1k | warnings: none really! one mention of food | pairing: coworker!hongjoong x gn!reader | requests: open

everyone, and i mean absolutely everyone, wants to be mentored by hongjoong

they don’t care if they aren’t even in the same department as hongjoong

they just KNOW that he is the best ally and support system to have in the office

everyone also says his face is a workplace perk most people are too scared to say thing within earshot of hongjoong lmao

hongjoong knows everything people say about him, but he doesn’t let on

instead, he simply does his job and minds his business

things change when you start working at the company

you were hired in not only the same department, but same team as hongjoong

so your supervisor assigned hongjoong as your mentor

hongjoong, ever the professional, happily accepts and promises to train you well, so you can succeed in your new role

this all happens before you have a chance to learn hongjoong’s lore at the office

so you are wildly confused by the shocked and jealous stares from your coworkers as hongjoong walks you to your desk

it also feels suspicious that seemingly everybody is walking by your desk while hongjoong gives you a brief introduction to workflows, programs, etc.

but you, like hongjoong, are just trying to mind your business and do your job

which is actually super easy because hongjoong knows every single hack, automation, etc that means you can get your work done without being slowed down by tedious tasks

he’s a genius but so casual about it that you’re just sitting there like :-0 ??? how does he know everything ???

he chuckles when he sees your face and assures you that it’s just because he’s been there for ages and that soon enough you’ll be exactly the same way

you doubt it but appreciate his confidence in you LOL

at the end of your first week, hongjoong offers to take you to lunch

he says your boss is paying for it because it is “team bonding” so you agree 

what you didn’t know was that this team bonding would include hongjoong spilling ALL the tea in the office

he wasn’t gossiping in a cruel way, but he felt it was his duty, as your mentor, to give context on all the looks you were receiving

hongjoong finds it hilarious and adorable when you look at him with an absolutely shocked face

he just sits back while it sinks in for you, and, based on your reaction, hongjoong knows for sure that he finally has a friend in the office

he can tell that you won’t treat him like he’s different, which is a massive relief for him

so, from that day on, he makes it his mission to be both an amazing mentor AND a good friend

he stops by your desk for little check-ins and spends his breaks with you, whether sipping on coffee or walking around outside

hongjoong remembers everything you tell him about your life like he’s an incredible listener

you joke that it’s creepy he pays SO much attention to every detail you share and he says his resume didn’t say “detailed-oriented” for nothing

that is the moment you realize he is a complete dork LOL

speaking of dorky hongjoong

whenever he offers you a “cheer up!” or “you’ve got this!” it feels so much like a proud parent cheering on their child

he complains when you say this because “at least i should be an older brother but a DAD?!?!”

hongjoong is sulky but that goes away as soon as you buy him his favorite drink

you also changed his contact to “dad” but he doesn’t need to know that <3

he isn’t beating the dad/older brother allegations any time soon because he nags you once he gets comfortable with you 

it’s always with a smile on his face and full of care

but he will nag you about keeping your desk clean, using better handwriting, making your presentations more stylistic, etc

like sorry when did he become a judge instead of a mentor ???

it’s okay though because he lets you return the favor by nagging him constantly <3

hongjoong pretends not to like it when you nag him, but it fills his heart because that means you’re comfortable with him too :,-)

it also adds to everyone’s jealousy because you two are CLEARLY close and hongjoong finds their envy ridiculous and hilarious 

he definitely brags about how close you two are like he thinks you’re incredible and that everyone should be jealous they don’t know you like he does

somehow dating rumors start of course and when asked about it, you and hongjoong always reply with “wouldn’t you like to know”

hongjoong made you promise to give that answer because he thinks it’s fun to mess with everyone LMAO

he has so much fun with you that, to show his appreciation, hongjoong gets you a gift for your one-year anniversary at the company, including a handwritten note

he makes you promise not to open it while he’s with you because he doesn’t want either of you to feel awkward

later, once you read the note, you understand exactly why he requested this

the note starts with him praising your work ethic and improvement because he’s a proud mentor :,-)

at the end, he confesses that, before you started working there, he felt pretty isolated

it was like he was on an island or in a fish bowl, being watched from afar by everyone else

after that first lunch, and the many, many conversations you shared afterward, hongjoong finally felt like he belonged there

you made hongjoong feel like he belonged

that was something he was immensely grateful for, so he promised to pay you back by supporting you as a coworker and person, so you never felt like you were alone or an outsider

hongjoong tries to play it off the next time he sees you, but the sparkle in his eye when you thank him for being such a good colleague and friend reveals just how much he cherishes you in the workplace and beyond <333

[gladiatorcunt]

- DO LEVIATHANS DREAM OF ALIENS? | 1a.

this is a low flying panic attack (cybersex is holy)

cw: kinktober prompt (aliens made them do it - bc he asked them too), nonconsensual voyeurism, extreme dubcon, yandere jacaerys, reader has a pussy, 4.6k of porn with plot, getting your back blown out in the 2001: a space odyssey trip scene, inspired by the mentioned movie, old valyria lore and obvious au where the valyrian gods are aliens, restraints, stray mpreg mention at the beginning, world building before the fucking, pussy slapping, piss kink mention

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

2 BC, Gaelithox Star System inhabitant number 616. Subject Name: Earth (Human Outreach Base)

In the wake of doom, the world smoldered. Every realm, known and unknown, was reduced to scalding ash. Except for a volcanic island guarding the entrance to Blackwater Bay by the name of Dragonstone. A century later in his eternal wisdom, Lord Aerion Targaryen set his three children, Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys to take to their dragons and scour the vast emptiness for a miracle. In another universe, there were countless bounties to acquire and lush land to conquer, gilded crowns to pass on to the heirs shared between them. However, this was not to be. Visenya’s sharp eyes spotted gigantic chunks of metal in the narrow sea that resembled castles. One was as black as her brother’s dragon’s, Balerion, scales and as all encompassing as the volcano Valyria’s capital city was built in. The other, a muddier brick red with specks of green and even bigger than the former. She shouted to her siblings, pointing and informing them that she was going to land Vhagar on one of them. Rhaenys and Meraxes followed quickly after her, then Aegon and Balerion.

The violent winds assaulted their skin as they dove down, their blood rushed to their hands and caused a pounding sensation in their ears. It felt akin to a leap of faith, they were lighting a match and tossing it onto a pile of Godswood. Blasphemous and crazed. When flayed open, Targaryens are revealed to be plundering leeches with flaming branches for veins. Birthed from white fire, they are harbingers of calamity and tragedy, some say the heat slowly singes their bones and then their brain until they die. Ripping through an ill-omened husk that wails tears of blood and exhales soot.

All three dragons hissed as their claws kissed the unfamiliar material. It was only for a moment, and strangely they titled their heads up and roared into the skies in unison, a jubilant chorus as if they were connecting with the truest parts of themselves. Visenya and her siblings watched in confusion until they were done. Then their focus shifted to the ginormous metal ovals beneath their feet, Visenya and Rhaenys were on the smaller one while Aegon was on the largest of the two. He walked along the cool surface and stopped at what appeared to be a window of sorts, an opening into the inner workings of the beguiling monolith. Before he could consult with his sisters, he tossed them a self assured grin, pulled open the hatch, and jumped boot clad feet first through it.

When he landed with a harsh grunt and the feeling of his bones being briefly jostled, he discovers that the inside closely resembles the innards of a ship. Unlike the traditional boats that traverse on water with their sails made of flax and their hard wooden bodies, this one seemed to be purely metal. Sleek and shiny, light coming from the opening bounced off of his sword as he used it to gain a feel for his surroundings. It was just as massive on the inside, he had the thought that you could very well fit every major family of Old Valyria in there along with their dragons. Though he did not mind being part of the only ones who could benefit from it, perhaps it was the gods' choice to allow only them to survive.

There were many flashy brightly colored knobs, and Aegon felt out of his depth at the sheer amount of them. A command center maybe, a gravelly voice inside him whispered, controls the entire ship and every single facet of it. He would have to explore this specific mechanism further with Visenya, his eyes wandered elsewhere down the hall to his left. The shadows beckoned him forward, and forward he went.

As he explored the ship, Aegon mentally noted the presence of personal quarters, kitchens, places in which one could conduct work, and all the things one would essentially need to live a happy life. It bore familiar cornerstones of Valyrian architecture, winding spiral spires and exquisite detailing. There was even its very own dragon pit resembling the Bojurlion arena that once sat parallel to the palace in the civic center of Valyria, stables and all sorts of riding equipment and armor included. He strongly felt that such a thing surely proved that this was the miracle his Lord father had sent him to find, from the teats of the gods and into the lap of their chosen one. They must have delivered them a shelter and a way to blaze their trail anew, this time the flip of the coin was in the Targaryens’ favor.

To the Targaryens in the long gone days of Old Valyria, survival was a choice when you were doomed to be the middle of the pack, never soaring higher or lower than where the gods put you.

He climbed through the same opening hours later, eager to catch up with his sisters. It turns out that they had an adventure of their own, their ship was similar to the one Aegon had explored, though they described it as having a much lighter energy and a deceptively cozier atmosphere. The three siblings climbed aboard their dragons and took to the skies once more, carrying hope and fierce determination in their hearts. Lord Aerion was relieved to hear of the gods’ saving grace, and in no time at all, their belongings, dragons, and servants were all ushered into either of the two ships after numerous exhaustive back and forth journeys. Remnants of Old Valyria, maesters, descendants of blood mages from the Anogorian, workers from the bathhouses, soldiers who served in the Valyrian navy, and even merchants from the street markets.

It was quite the shock when the ships shook terribly as soon as their doors closed, and gasps wrung out when the main area was flooded with white light as the vessels rose into the heavens and beyond them.

Soon both ships teemed with life, Honorary Queens Rhaenys and Visenya were wed in Dragonstone’s church. They even had biological children with the help of maesters and the ship’s wildly advanced scientific center. A miraculous device allowed their DNA to mix together and be planted in Rhaenys’ womb, with no need for a man’s contribution. Two sons were born, Maegor and Aenys. On The Red Keep, King Aegon found love with the son of a blood mage newly finished with his apprenticeship, and soon they too were wed and bore heirs of their own. Three daughters, one named after Aegon’s first love, a Baratheon. As the centuries went by, these communities in space grew much like they would have on the ground, however they do dock on Dragonstone island occasionally. It was agreed that life would be better spent among the stars than battling to live to see the next day in the dirt. They took all their human ways with them though, buried under their jewels and extravagant lifestyles, their hierarchy and ruling class and debatable penchant for fire and blood.

124 AC, Gaelithox Star System inhabitant number 460. Subject Name: Valyrian Peninsula Cluster (Interior Quadrant)

It is said that The Red Keep eclipses the Earth’s sun but Dragonstone intimidates it, depicted as having a presence so foreboding that any celestial body dims when the insidious ship passes them by.

Hopeful Would-Be-Prince Jacaerys kneels before a marble statue of the Mother.

“There is something very wrong with me, Mother.” His shake, an icy chill floods through his veins in the lukewarm temperature controlled chapel. “A sickness… a hunger… today I nearly bent my servant over while they drew my bath and tongued their cunt, I do not know if their resistance would have stopped me.”

Their tears would have looked transcendent in the reflection of the steaming hot water.

The statue’s eyes glow and emit a monotone beeping sound, standard routine for every prayer and confession.

The usually pleasant and well mannered prince frets, chewing at his fingernail in thought. Artificial breeding is all too available an option, these days one merely has to go to a maester and undergo the procedure, creating almost spontaneous life from the DNA one already possesses. Such things do wonders for couples with incompatible reproductive organs and those that want to be parents on their own, but it’s not enough for Jacaerys.

You could still be distant. There is no corner of the ship where you are free from his reach, but the prince would very much prefer it if you did not feel the need to scurry off at all. He thinks of himself as a wondrously different young man in comparison to his uncles and stepfather, Jacaerys loves you like a dragon loves a sleep. Helpless to the fear of being devoured by his hunger, but he’d keep you and roll you into a cotton ball in his mouth, savoring the pristine hairs left behind in the grooves of his forked tongue.

Wrestling you and bringing your body to the maesters, watching as they plant his child in your womb, would be meaningless to him. He wants to say he’d conceived your children in your marriage bed, as his family had done for generations before him. The advancements in technology had caused a decline in the tradition’s popularity, and that is precisely why Jacaerys wishes they had never set foot for the stars. You’d be more capable of succumbing to him if you were made to endure the pleasure he knows you could feel, without the miracle procedure. You have not yet mentioned a desire to carry children, not that that topic typically is shared between a servant and their liege.

The population on the ship is declining, the Targryens not producing the numbers they have in the past and various deaths in the family and amongst the smallfolk being a couple of the reasons. Madness from a lifetime of staring out floor to ceiling to wall windows of the same sparkly abyss, the traditionalists who spurn the technological wonders of the gods and grapple with complications in childbirth, the murders brought on by cabin fever. Unfortunate events have given Jacaerys the answer, the gift of a perfect reason to have you. To indulge in the murky facets of his soul, nursing from your bitter burning cup of wine and you in turn his.

If he were to be so goddamn lucky as to be in the same room as you, you would stumble out of there with a tummy full of triplets and a bounty of stretch marks.

“I would give all I am and have to be a loving husband, a dutiful father, if you would see it fit for that to be my path.” He bows his head and brown curls cascade around his face, an angel in the mouth of the guillotine. “At least cure me of this ailment if not, I can hardly stand the teasing from my uncles when I lose focus during the training simulations.”

Nightmares are becoming dreams in my darkest hours.

“My deepest thanks for hearing my prayer, I… I apologize, it is rather foolish I admit. I am not sure what’s come over me.”

The statue's eyes dim and it whirs as it powers down upon the prince’s exit. A most trouble occurence for one of their very own, but once this message is approved and received, the Gods will know the apt solution. Dragon eggs are their own star systems too, the cracks betwixt specks of color in the scales their own constellations, and the men born from them are the apples of the gods’ chromatic rainbow eyes.

A ghostly roar nips at Jacaerys’ heels as he strides towards his chambers, kicking off and throttling the silver pipes.

“For what it is worth, I am of the opinion that your brown hair and brown eyes suit you. Being around your family is no different than going for a stroll in the snow, but you stand out as the tree of solace in the middle. Sturdy and warm in its own way, something you rest on when you grow weary of the world around you.”

Your widening eyes are the first things he sees when he next wakes up. Jacaerys is content to consider this a dream until he moves to brush some of his hair away from his face and is stopped by a harsh clang.

The universe is howling.

He looks down to see valyrian steel chains dragging on the floor attached to cuffs around his wrists. The chains are of considerable length, he imagines that he could walk around the entire room and never get the bindings to go tight. His cuffs are so loose they hardly serve their purpose at all, but his flesh stings when he attempts to touch them. They would likely singe his skin off to the bone if he was their true prisoner and resisted. You have similar ones, but as soon as Jacaerys relaxes his chains vanish and he sits up to take stock of the room you are being held in.

Something sort of like an atrium, gleaming metallic tones with high ceilings and a large divot in the floor where the bed you both are on stands. Tall pillars showcase scrolling led screens, high valyrian scrawlings are preserved and repeated in scarlet pixels. The walls are replaced by windows into the vast openness of space, but it is different from what Jacaerys is used to. Outside is a sea of pure black, neon colors make up the waves, they seem to continuously bleed and fold into each other at the midpoint. There are no stars, no planets, but if Jacaerys squints and pays close attention he can just about make out the heavy flap of leathery wings.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright.” The prince whispers, turning his focus to your panic and stroking a finger down your cheek. “If we were supposed to be dead, we would not even be having this conversation.”

“The princeling is correct. You are safe in *indistinguishable*, this designated facility, our audience chamber, so long as you comply with us and our own.” A chorus of deep and crackling voices boom all at once in both of your minds, their syllables and inflections in their speech overlapping and melding together. “We have heard his prayers for your companionship and have decided to grant Jacaerys Velaryon his heart’s deepest desire. For he has raised valid concerns, this blessing is a multi purpose one.”

“Think of it as a bedding ceremony, and all that that name implies. Once conception is confirmed, you will face the brunt of a painful headache as we leave you. When you stumble into slumber, whether wrapped in an embrace or seperate, vessel number *indistinguishable* Dragonstone will house you once more.”

You gasp as the voices go quiet, and Jacaerys knows you must be aware of the feeling of being watched. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and gives you goosebumps down your forearms. Goose-pimpled flesh that Jacaerys traces with his fingertips, it’s the least he can do to give you a moment to calm down and get your bearings. Perhaps this is a sign that he has gone truly mad, because he can’t find the same trepidation in your expression within himself.

How often do prayers get answered? Yes, having a swarm of otherworldly all knowing beings witness your love making is quite unusual, but there is nothing Jacaerys would not put up with to form an everlasting covenant with you and your body. So he lays beside you, watching the fabric of your uniform shift and swish as you stretch your legs, a bumbling baby deer finding its footing.

He would smile and laugh, because he’d truly believe no one had ever been happier in their lives than he, but you probably would not take it all that well.

You shut your eyes tightly, either coming to grips with the bizarre reality you now found yourself in or desperately clinging to the hope that this was all a dream brought on by contaminated rations.

“M-my prince… this is not how i envisioned this moment.” You murmur at last, your eyes opening to meet his.

He wonders what you mean by that, could you really have wanted him in all the ways he has wanted you? Surely not all of them, but in the most basic and carnal of them.

Suddenly he knows in his bones that is what the two of you are meant to do, that this is so impossibly right that it must be woven in the grand fabric of fate’s design.

Jacaerys tuts and extends an offering of peace, entertaining his fingers with yours, “I’ll be gentle, this is my first time as well. It was not like I could practice without you finding out about it, I did not wish to hurt your feelings.”

Your brows pinch as he speaks, an instinctive coo gets trapped and tangled in his vocal chords. That expression is precisely why he is glad to be relying on scandalous hologram demonstrations and enticingly hedonistic data scrolls, amusingly numerous and often exuberantly descriptive. His confidence is triple what it was once years past, and Jacaerys would dearly love to lead you by example.

Fake it till you make it, but he is cocky enough now to believe you will never have to pretend in the first place.

A lock must have opened inside you, an opening made ready for him, because your brow lines smooth out and you go lax on the bed spread. You blink up at him as if trying to eat your nerves with your eyes by overindulging on the sight of him. Your face must be hot to the touch, as brave of a front as you’re putting on, you are not immune to embarrassment or fraying nerves.

Jacaerys sharply inhales and takes the tentative first step, settling a hand at the top of your chest and dragging it downward. His fingers catch on the buttons in your bodice and he undoes them with only a couple minor fumbles here and there.

“Ah.” The prince groans, peeling back the black panels in your uniform to uncover the skin beneath. “These breasts are wasted on servant rags, they’re so beautiful. You’re so very beautiful, my love.”

Your teats are round and perky things, so over encumbered with themselves that your flesh pushes out in between his fingers as he squeezes them softly. You softly moan and recline even further on the bed, as much as you are able with the chains still holding onto you. Jacaerys chuckles and lifts each one as if here debating on which decorative jeweled necklace weighed more, the rubies or the emeralds.

“Thank you, my prin- Jacaerys.” You sigh, never forgetting your well taught manners, and then gasp, “Wait, do not just grope them like that- Gods-“

Upon further investigation, the ruby, your right breast, is marginally heavier and bigger, but Jacaerys refuses to have favorites so resolves to love the emerald just as much. He rolls them in his palms for a bit before departing with a loving pat to your nipples.

His palms softly fall to bracket either side of your head, caging you in. “Now come, grant me a kiss, your nerves will fade with practice. What is there to be afraid of?”

His voice grows shakier than he’d like it too, a genuine hint of uncertainty shining through. In this he knows, at least, that it would do you a world of good to take your own leaps of faith. It would have been cruel to ask you such a thing when he had been sitting farther away, but now he is oh so close, the tips of your noses brush against each other is a shy sort of kiss.

Your eyes flick down to his lips and before he can say anything else, you’re leaning forward as much as you can and pressing against them. Jacaerys is pleased that his earlier assertion of your temperament was correct and turns his head, deepening the kiss and slotting his lips in the empty spaces left by your own as they part.

He laughs when the kiss is broken, airy and on the wings of a more formidable beast than love. The beings watching must already be impatient, for when he presses his chest further into yours, he notices a sudden lack of clothes. As if the Gods had grown tired of waiting for you to undress each other properly, not that Jacaerys minds all that much.

The prince snakes a hand in between your bare bodies, slipping down to cup your mound. He sweeps you up in another kiss so as to not afford you the opportunity to shy away when his digits sink into your slick.

“This cunt is overflowing, is this where it feels best? My thumb is right on your pearl just. like. this.” He teases and sketches tight circles on your bud, shifting his body weight to keep you down when you kick out your legs reflexively.

You keen into his open mouth, a high pitched bottle rocket about to go off and explode into bursts of bright color “Yes! Jace, just like that, don’t stop, oh my Gods- I’m so wet, how am i so wet?”

You ask him about your own body like you’re genuinely bewildered and Jacaerys is so charmed, so in love. He wouldn't peg you as the type to go a long while without slithering your hands up your skirt and delivering an unsatisfying orgasm, this much liquid must be drowning you. He takes his sweet time, flicking and playing your pearl in an obsessive fashion, taking your plush breasts into his mouth as his tongue lavishes them in saliva.

You’re making such melodic sounds, one of the songbirds must have escaped from the automated menagerie and fluttered their wings into his arms. Pinks and oranges and greens and purples and oranges spill across the void in his peripheral vision, but this bastardized marriage bed is the only thing Jacaerys cares about. It doesn’t matter that there is no sound save for the squelch of his fingers in your cunt and his rose petal pink lips popping off your tits repeatedly.

Jacaerys has seen many moons during the ship’s travels through the vastness of space, but the way your hips are arching off the bed in search of more of his touch would make any one of them bleed red in embarrassment.

Amused, he teases you now, slowing down his concentric circles into loose ringlets. “So this is not enough?”

“Jacaerys, please- You know it’s not.” You glare but still grind your hips up into his hand, not even bothering to address him by his title, he’ll let it slide in this instance.

He dips down to press a few last kisses to your breasts, nipping at your pebbled nipples and sliding a finger into your cunt. He crooks his fingers, going at a leisurely pace and waiting until you’re near tears to insert a second.

“Mmh, who knew i’d come by such a hungry cunny, almost carnivorous in its attempts to keep me inside its snatch.” Jacaerys grins and pumps his fingers, going faster as he slips a third and then a fourth one in, feeling how your walls cling onto their shape.

You’re like a leech, suckling at his flesh to the point of blood loss.

“ ‘m not…… don’t talk about it like that. Fuck, yes- Jace- take what’s yours already, i’m burning up.”

He kisses you again and abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, slapping your clit in one heavy strike. For all his efforts of taking things slow and keeping the atmosphere gentle and loving, you inspire such a deep teasing streak in him. He could never seriously hurt you, but quick smacks resulting in your eyes flashing with lightning aren’t off the table.

You whimper, wetting yourself under the heel of his palm. The intense colors around you swirl into a psychedelic kaleidoscope pattern, rhythmic beeping comes from the pillars and the atrium seems to hold its breath. You don’t notice when your mind begins to unravel, babbling about needing it being too much and you need to pee. Because there’s a drop of shame that your intuition injects in you, something more than being on the brink of a climax.

“You’re so sensitive, my love, did the slaps make it worse?.” He coos, serving you slap after slap after slap, nothing worse than what would make his hand and your mound sizzle. “Good, you can piss if you need to, there is nothing to be embarrassed about with me.”

You’re so cute, he could never understand how people could stand marrying for anything other than love. The worry that his heart will expand too quickly and splatter around the rungs of his ribcage, that you feel when you lay with someone you love, is a sensation he would slay his kin for. He is aware of its luxury, that he is lucky to experience it at all during his life on the spaceship he will live and die in. He sends a brisk thank you to his ancestors for taking yours with them when they departed and took flight from Earth, the beauty of your swollen tits and stomach will honor them.

And oh, how he wants to make you come on his tongue and around his fingers and every other way possible. In the depths of his soul, Jacaerys wants you to feel as if you were falling from a very high tower, a royal with no choice but to fall skull first into the great nothingness of the beyond. The fragments would adorn the cobblestone just like how your tears frame your lashes.

No, the first time you shatter and crumble to nothing will be around his cock. Stardust sprinkled over the void, scattered like ashes.

Perhaps the worst sin Jacaerys will commit tonight is that he is too impatient to continue the foreplay. He knows that no amount would prevent you from enduring any pain, but he also knows that he did not do enough. He, and the celestial Gods hidden in the stellar bushes, wants you to feel the burn of his cock stretching your walls. Commencing a wedding of sorts between your cervix and his throbbing tip.

“W-wait, ah!”

“Be pliant for me and take my seed, stop being so stubborn and let yourself have this, allow it to blossom and it can just be us for the next round, sweetling. I swear it.”

He will guide you through all the details later.

The neon waves crash against the windows, and the led scrawlings on the pillars glitch and scramble and unscramble themselves as you come together. The atrium dissolves into numbers after you’ve fallen asleep for the final time in the chamber, Jacaerys’s hand clutching your belly and your head pillowed on his chest. Giant wings cradle the pair in their center, ghastly creaking and groaning as they slice through the shifting rainbow patterns. Each moon along the journey is full and winking.

Jacaerys thinks he sees a comet fly over your heads when he’s halfway to consciousness, and he traces the valyrian letters for ‘I love you’ into the bloated skin of your stomach.

The chapel has mysteriously changed places on Dragonstone by the time of your actual wedding, the statue lies dormant.

[tragedy-machine]

Do you have any lore to share about your lesbian vampire dead girl detectives au? 🥺🥺🥺 Pretty please?

Hiii, sadly I don’t, but in order not to leave you hanging, I have this for you

if you'd like more vampire payneland I recommend the before the transformation takes series by @dear-monday and if you'd like more fem payneland I recommend my girl @tumblerislovetumblerislife and any of her multiple fics about them <3

[azlrse]

➳ unintentionally (a boothill x gn!spouse!reader oneshot)

cw: major angst w/ open ending, reader has a bruise (unintentionally) from their ranger husband, accidental slap (also unintentional), established relationship, married au, lots of apologies and crying present here, ooc boothill (first time writing for him)

a/n: alright, as soon as i saw boothill for the first time, I was like "bet lemme write something for him". he's gonna be ooc cause 1. i didn't play the game yet (cries incompatible tablet) and 2. i am still learning the roots of this game's lore (and him once he's released) lol

!! fic contains sensitive topic, steer clear if this fic ain't your piece of cake !!

"darlin'?" a voice called out in the side of the storage room. "please come out, i-i didn't mean to hit you and im really sorry.." your husband called out for you softly to avoid scaring you further. his constant knocking and coercing you to come out lasted for 5 minutes, making you curl up further within the corner of the walls. "leave me alone.." you meekly spoke, voice still hoarse from your earlier cries as you held your bruised, swollen face.

his constant knocking just faded away as you sobbed, using your free hand to wipe away your snot and tears dripping from your face. if you just steer clear from him and not pestering him because of his anger, you wouldn't be hit and to be screamed by boothil to just leave him alone. you knew that your husband is like a dynamite, ready to explode at any moment due to his occupation. boothill assures you that he will never lay a hand on you, even when the both of you are either arguing or disagreeing over something that's simple and stupid.

but this day, he broke that one promise that kept you safe since the day he asked you out. just because of his anger towards that one outlaw who's on the run for weeks. almost captured but alas, his luck ran out once again as the prisoner kept on taunting him that he will never be caught by him.

boothill, on the other side of the door, won't give up as he waits for you to open the door and letting him treat your bruised lip and swollen cheek. he knows that it's not an excuse for him to let out such anger towards his spouse. guilt kept on creeping through his system, hearing you sobbing telling him to just leave you alone. "im sorry, sugar.." he sadly spoke, reluctantly returning to the sleeping quarters that the both of you shared.

at around 4:30 am, he quietly opens the door of the storage room and looks around to see if you are sleeping soundly; tear stains on your face, a bruised and swollen cheek, and using a rolled towel as your pillow. his heart shattered what he has done to you and knew that he doesn't deserve your forgiveness. he feared that there will be a day that you would leave him all by himself, all because of how he acted towards his own emotions and anger.

boothil scooped you into his arms as your head leaned towards his warm body. he knew that you liked it when you huddled close towards his chest as he placed a chaste kiss on your head. placing you on the shared bed, he cleans your bruises and places an ice pack on the side of you. he stared at your sleeping face for sometime before he murmurs soft apologies to you, even promising that he will never do again.

the soft light from the curtains woke you up from your sleeping slumber after the ordeal last night. 'strange..' you thought to yourself as you saw the ceiling of the bedroom you shared with your husband, not the plain white ceiling from the storage room where you seek safety during your husband's anger episode. you placed a hand on your bruised cheek and felt a small gauze on top of it and a bit of cold from the ice pack he placed on the side of your face last night.

you tried to get off the bed but felt a robotic arm wrapped around your waist. "no, no..." boothill softly murmurs. "five more minutes sugar, needin' you here right now.." a wave of anxiousness just came rushing towards you as you saw your husband on the bed with you, snuggling as he finally woke up from his sleep; his cropped jacket is gone and only had a pair of short as his sleeping attire, his hair smells like newly lit cigarettes from his trip to the saloon yesterday.

if you aren't anxious, you would be flustered of his appearance.

"mornin' sugar.." he softly spoke as he leans in to give you a kiss. afraid, you quickly jumped off the bed and quickly make a beeline for the storage room once again. "w-wait!" his quick reflexes caught your arm. "don't leave me, let's talk it here my love. I know what I did is unacceptable and I'm really sorry for hitting you." Silence looms within the bedroom as you eyes avoided his. "Please.." He pleaded, his eyes soften as guilt crept on his back.

it's up to you to decide of you should stay for him or choosing your own peace...

a/n: not my best work but hopefully you guys liked my take on boothill (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)♡

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites. Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[cherrifire]

Please share your thoughts on the other 5 cutie marks, I'd love to hear!

Hi everypony! I got like 20 asks for the Dogwarts cutie mark lore so I'm here to speak my truth!

Before we start, I would like to write a quick reminder that a pony's cutie mark is not always their "special talent", but can also represent who they are, their personalities, and a possible destiny. Different cutie marks have different meanings and interpretations, but they're not just about representing what you're good at.

That being said, let's start with the cutie mark design I'm proudest of!

Ren's Cutie Mark

Ren's cutie mark is of a sunrise and looks pretty simple at first glance but there was a lot of thought that went into this one.

First of all, I bet you're wondering why a sunrise? Well, in the show, it is pretty typical for unicorns with great magical abilities to have one relating to space (examples being Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, Starlight Glimmer, and Sunburst). And I figured since I wanted Ren to fall into a similar position of potentially becoming an alicorn, I gave him a cutie mark following the same trend. And I chose a sunrise to reflect the way Ren seems to glow when he enters a room. The way he carries himself is very warm and bright it just catches your eye in a similar way the sun would.

Also, Ren wears sunglasses. So a sun-themed cutie mark seemed appropriate.

Additionally, there are a couple of smaller details I want to point out too. Like the sun rays, if you look at them for a moment you'll see they're shaped like little crowns! I of course had to put a crown in thanks to how much Ren likes to play royalty, so I snuck it in there. And then the red spots underneath could both be interpreted as the sun reflected over water or blood. (But of course, this is a kid show AU so there wouldn't be any blood in Ren's destiny, just a fun reference to the red king and his whole thing about blood dyeing the snow red)

Martyn's Cutie Mark

I explained this one in an earlier ask but I thought I'd explain it again here for anyone who didn't see it!

Martyn's cutie mark is of a chopped log and a small stick.

This one is mostly a play on the name "Littlewood" but has other meanings too. As a character, Martyn tends to travel and explore quite a bit. In the Life Series specifically, he is usually the last one to find a permanent base and even then doesn't spend a lot of time in one place. Always on the move. Additionally, he's more of a wild card compared to other characters, always trying to be as unpredictable as possible.

The smaller detail here is the little swirl on top of the log is the same as the one on his Minecraft skin's shirt.

BigB's Cutie Mark

Cookies! Cookies! Cookies! BigB's cutie mark is of 3 cookies where one is trying to eat the others. There are also a few sprinkles there made to look like action lines.

We all know BigB loves cookies so of course I had to give him a cutie mark with cookies in it. For this one, I decided to follow the cutie mark trend of "symbol/item important to the pony duplicated 3 times" (examples being Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie) but I added a bit more creativity to it with the top on trying to eat the others to represent just how tasty they are 😋

Additionally, rather than the first cookie trying to eat the others, you could interpret it as opening its mouth to talk. Because BigB can not keep a secret to save his life! In Double Life when he started "secret soulmates" with Grian, he didn't last a day without opening his mouth. He told Ren about it immediately because he felt bad for keeping things from him.

Also worth quickly mentioning: People pointed out in my original post that they don't think BigB would be the element of honesty because of his behaviour in Secret Life. But that's just Secret Life. I think Secret Life to BigB was like that episode of My Little Pony where Discord makes the main 6 act the opposite of their true element. BigB was just going through a weird phase of telling very obvious lies because a book told him to.

Skizz's Cutie Mark

Skizz's cutie mark is of a lightning bolt from a couple storm clouds hitting the ground.

I think this is the cutie mark with the least thought put into it, unfortunately. There was still though just not as much as the others. The big thing I thought was fun was I made the lightning bolt shaped like an "S" to stand for Skizzleman. But other than that, this cutie mark sort of has the same meaning as Rainbow Dash's cutie mark. Quick like lightning, loud, bold, dangerous, and powerful.

Impulse's Cutie Mark

Impulse's cutie mark is of a lit-up lightbulb.

I absolutely crowded this cutie mark with the letter i. If you look closely, there are 6 of them. Impulse's design also has an i-shaped pattern on the belly if you look closely enough. But that's more of a fun easter egg and doesn't exactly reflect Impulse as a character.

There are a couple of reasons I chose a lightbulb for Impulse, the first and probably most obvious is that he's a redstone guy! He's a technical guy who likes to work smarter, not harder. So I figured the My Little Pony equivalent would be a light bulb/electricity. The second reason for the lightbulb is that it's usually used as a visual representation when characters have that "eureka!" moment in cartoons. When someone has a brilliant idea a little lightbulb turns on above their head. So since Impulse is the ideas guy, I figured a lightbulb would work for his cutie mark.

Etho's Cutie Mark

Etho's cutie mark is of a snowflake with a missing branch.

I promise there is more to this cutie mark than just "Canada is cold" even if that's part of the reason I wanted to give him a winter-themed cutie mark. While it is fun to make a nod to Etho being Canadian, I thought a winter-themed cutie mark would be fun to represent how he sometimes presents himself. Cold and a bit mysterious. I think deep down once you get to know him, those attributes melt away, but for people who have never met him, he may be intimidating that way.

I'll be honest, I don't watch a lot of Etho content, but I do have a few friends who identify as Etho girlies so I did my research. I was told in his Minecraft Let's Play World, that he has a snowflake build somewhere. I believe they said it was an iron golem farm? (Please correct me if I'm wrong) but I thought that was perfect for the cutie mark. And if you're wondering why there's a branch missing, it's because one of my friends said he was incapable of finishing builds sometimes so I thought that would be fun to include.

-=+=-

Alright. Rant over. To celebrate, here are a few pony doodles so I can put this post in my art tag.

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XIV: Sharing Beds like Little Kids

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | read on ao3 | read bee's diary

songs for this chapter: my friend by hayley williams, hold me like a grudge by fall out boy, ribs by lorde

summary: of course, your best friends are throwing a party before the party. of course, you have to go! what happens at that party, however, has nothing to do with you.

a/n: this one’s a little long idk what got into me i must be ovulating. Chapter 15 is already 1/3 written so. uh. buckle up!

chapter tags: raunchiness, adult language and behavior, drinking, drugs (weed), swearing, LORE DROP!!, dialogue heavy, slightly perv!eddie, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn-y (the fire is catching!!) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

disclaimer: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. THIS WORK IS BEING REPOSTED TO MY NEW AO3! Feel free to check it out! Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. I am satiated by reblogs and comments, so please! Interact with my work! It motivates me to write more, and it helps to know someone out there is reading.

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

--

It isn’t until Friday that you see Eddie again, not that you’re keeping track. You’d sent pointless texts back and forth, usually receiving pictures of Ethel in exchange for a picture of a stupid bumper sticker you thought he’d laugh at. Not that you’re trying to make him laugh. 

You pull into the parking lot behind Steve and Robin’s apartment, cutting the engine and abruptly stopping the music blaring through your speakers. You haul yourself and a twenty pound backpack up the six flights of stairs, following the muffled sounds of your friends’ erratic voices, barely decipherable under the music playing from the television.

“Bee’s here!” Robin calls before throwing the front door open, a red solo cup in her hand as the music floods your senses. “Hello, my prettiest friend.” She greets, playfully kissing each of your cheeks.

“Oh, no. What did Steve do?” You giggle at her tipsy smile, glossy eyes. You’re painfully sober, having to drive yourself over. Luckily, you’d been invited to stay the night. 

“He bet me I couldn’t chug an entire can of Bud Light.” She hiccups.

“Rob, you hate beer.”

She nods, gleeful. “That’s why I did it.”

“How much did you win?”

Her smile falters. “Twenty bucks.”

You burst into giggles as Steve invades the space over her shoulder. “Hi, Bee!”

“Hey, loser.” You take the cup he offers you that smells too strongly of vodka. “Please don’t tell me you made this.”

“Nah, but I feel like if I tell you who did you’ll hit me.” You focus over his shoulder, where Eddie is mixing a second drink for himself. “If it makes you feel any better, I told him it was for you and he got right to work. Seemed like he knew what he was doing.”

You sip the drink hesitantly, the liquor pleasantly burning as it glides down your throat, sweetened with Sprite and grenadine. “Dirty shirley.” You nod approvingly. “Maybe I should be a little nicer.” You take another sip, and can tell instantly that it’s a heavy pour. “Don’t let him make all my drinks, though. I might need to get my stomach pumped.” You make your way to the kitchens without a thought, knowing your friends will follow. Eddie is talking to someone, his back to you as he nods enthusiastically at whatever they’re saying, free hand moving in erratic circles while his other clutches his drink. You watch the way his shoulders tense when you step into his personal space, and feel the slightest bit smug about it. He still hasn’t looked at you, so you take another step forward, landing yourself barely an inch away from your chin landing on his shoulder. 

“Hi, Bee.” Eddie chides, angling his body to invite you into the conversation with the other boy in front of him, who you can now see is Jeff. 

“Hi.” You bare your teeth in what you hope is a grin before taking another sip of your drink, shuddering as it slides down your throat. 

“Jeff, y’mind if I–” He tilts his head to indicate his wish to exit. Jeff nods, and you catch the way his eyes roll at his friend. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to like, steal you. You coulda finished your conversation.”

Eddie shakes his head, and you can tell he’s tipsy by the way he’s smiling at you; widely enough that his eyes crinkle at the corners, his top teeth ever so slightly resting on his bottom lip. “I’d rather be conversing with you anyway.” The words slide through your skull. You feel warm. “So?”

“Hm?” You have forgotten exactly what it was you came over here for. You can feel your friends’ eyes still on you, ten feet behind and probably trying to read your lips. 

“What did you wanna talk about?” 

“Oh, um,” God, what was it? “I wanna buy some weed.”

He blinks at you. “What?”

“You do… sell weed? Right? Sorry, am I supposed to be using, like, code words?” You have no desire, or frankly any cash, to buy weed from Eddie. 

He answers with a timid laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I, uh, haven’t in awhile. I mean I have some on me, but you don’t have to, like, pay for it.”

“Do I have to smoke it with you?” You don’t mean it to sound rude, and you wince at the way it comes out. “Because I wouldn’t mind doing that, either.”

Before Eddie can respond, Steve is shouting at you from across the room. “Bee, c’mon! We’re about to play truth or dare! You too, Ed, let’s go!” 

“Are we in fucking high school?”

“No, silly! We’re playing the adult version!” He’s dragging the drink cooler over to the kitchen table before you can ask what that means. 

“The game is simple,” Robin starts, her usual goofy disposition gone, replaced with an absurd sense of authority. “You ask someone, truth or dare. They can either: complete the challenge, or opt to take a mystery drink,” She motions to the massive Igloo cooler, which Steve opens for dramatic effect. “In here, I have curated a collection of random alcoholic beverages from the crevices of this party. If you cannot complete the truth or dare requested of you, you may only avoid punishment by chugging whatever you pull from the cooler of DEATH!” She stops, expecting a collective gasp that never comes. “First person to puke has to clean up tomorrow.” She adds, which starts the group of you panicking.

There are eight of you playing: Steve, Robin, Eddie, you, Gareth, Jeff, Nancy, and Jonathan; the last two of which you have only just noticed are here. You form a circle around the kitchen table, where other party goers have crowded to watch the inevitable drama unfold. One thing remains true about Steve and Robin, they know how to have fun. 

“Let the game begin!” Robin claps her hands together before spinning an empty beer bottle on the hardwood table. It lands on Nancy, causing Robin’s gaze to shift downward, mischief shining in her eyes. “Nancy Wheeler. Truth or dare?” 

Nancy is a beautiful girl, you can’t argue with that. Everyone that went to high school with you would agree, knowing Nancy as the whip smart, criminally beautiful girl next door. Since graduating, though, you’d lost most contact with her. She’d gone to Emerson, and from the town gossip you know she’s still the top of her class, but beyond that you have no idea what she’s like. Maybe the game will answer a few of those gaps. 

“Truth.” So she’s still one to play it safe?

“Boooring!” Robin fakes a yawn. “Fine. What is your deepest regret from your time in college?” Nancy’s eyes widen at her friend’s question, and you think she’s gonna chicken out.

“I’d have to say…” She looks away, tapping her finger against her chin mockingly, and you giggle. “Not getting to have the usual, y’know, college experience.” She emphasizes the words. Are you supposed to know what she’s talking about.

“Would you care to elaborate on that?”

“The rules don’t say I have to!” Nancy exclaims, but Robin won’t take no for an answer. 

“C’mon, you’re no fun!”

“I wish I got to–” She glances at her boyfriend, who’s picking at the label of his beer. “Ugh, roll me the cooler.”

Robin snorts, shaking her head. You look from where Nancy is blushing profusely, to Steve who is sitting there, head cocked to the side. “What the hell are you even–” Nancy darts her eyes from Steve to Robin, and Steve seems to catch on. You watch as his face contorts from confused to enlightened. “Oh! You wanted to have sex with a woman!”

“Steve!” Nancy, Robin, and you all exclaim in unison, begging the boy to shut up. 

“What?!”

“Oh my god will someone just go?” Nancy cracks open a cider, and you envy her luck of the draw. As she chugs it, Steve reaches for the bottle and gives it a spin. It eventually slows, and lands on you. 

“Shit.”

“My precious Bee,” Steve twiddles his fingers together, a menacing glint in his eye. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm,” You have no idea what to expect from Steve. He’s been your best friend for years, he was there for you when Eddie left, when your brother was sentenced. He’s never been anything but kind, there’s no way he’d betray you now, right? “Dare.”

“I dare you to sit on Eddie’s lap.” He doesn’t even have to think about it, he had that one locked and loaded.

“Wait, what?” You sputter, whipping your head to look at where Eddie is sitting across from you. His eyes have widened with Steve’s outburst, his cheeks far more pink than his drunkenness would call for. “I can’t just do that, he has to consent!” Aha, you’ve wiggled out of this one.

“I consent!” Eddie smacks his hand on the table. “It’s cool with me.”

You could just drink. You could escape all of this with a quick gulp of… something. But your vision is already blurred at the edges, and your head feels too light to be attached to your neck. So sitting in Eddie’s lap will have to be it. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ weirdo, Steve.” You can assume why he’d do something like this. He’s bored. He’s single, and he’s horny, and he wants to torture you. Makes perfect fucking sense. You push yourself from your chair, dragging it across the floor for dramatic effect before circling the table and approaching Eddie. He accommodates you, pushing the chair back and uncrossing his legs before patting his lap playfully. “Your throne awaits.”

“I hate you. Both of you.” You try to place yourself on the edge of his knee, clenching your core to hold your posture, but Eddie isn’t having it. Before you can protest, he’s laced his fingers across your abdomen, and pulls you snugly into his lap. “Get cozy, darlin’, you’re here ‘til the next round.” He says it quietly enough that only you can hear him, and his breath smells of vodka and cigarettes. “God knows I’m perfectly comfortable.” You can feel the heat of his breath on your cheek. 

“Your turn to spin, Edward., if your boner isn’t too distracting.” Robin taunts, causing you to backhand her. “What? I’m just teasin’.”

“I’ll have you know, Robin, I’m being quite the gentleman.” You can feel his right hand land on your hip, his grip slightly tensing. He’s nervous. With his other hand, he reaches across the table and flicks the bottle, spinning it hard enough to skip a few times on the wood. It lands on Steve, and you feel Eddie relax, his nerves satiated by the ability to return the favor. “Steven. Truth or dare.”

“I might as well take the drink now.” Steve holds out his hand, exasperated.

“Tsk, tsk, that is not how this game works, my friend.”

“Fine, truth.” Steve huffs, the defeat in his voice almost convincing you to feel sorry for him. You shake that thought off immediately when you feel Eddie shift underneath you. Your back is now pressed flush against his chest, and you can feel his heart racing through the layers of cotton and denim between you. 

“Would you care to tell the class exactly why you were called King Steve in high school?” It’s not the question you had been expecting. It feels relatively tame, and you’re sure you know the answer. Steve slept around, it was a known fact. You’d watched as he’d take girl after girl out on dates in his nice car, charm the pants off ‘em, rinse, repeat. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Summer. Before freshman year.” Eddie has something up his sleeve, something even you don’t know about. 

“Eddie.” You try to be quiet in your warning. “Stop it.”

“Oh, at the lake?” Eddie waits for him to continue. “We were playing capture the flag.” Even in your current state, the memory rushes to the front of your brain.

–

That Summer before High School

“Steve, run!” Chris’s voice cracks as he shrieks across the sand. You had successfully blocked Steve from returning to his home base up until this point, but you were getting tired. “Fake’er out!”

Steve fakes right, and you let him slip through your fingers, the makeshift “flag” in the wind behind him. You lunge for it in vain, but he dodges your feeble attempt, and plants himself within the bounds of his territory. 

“Yeah!” Chris cheers from behind you, where Eddie has finally caught up to him, huffing in an attempt to catch his breath. It wasn’t fair, facing Chris and Steve, a track star and a football player, as someone whose athletic ability started and ended with the middle school band, and the little sister that no one really wanted there. 

“Okay, fine. You win. Again. King Steve and his fuckin’ jester.” You stick your tongue out, and he flips you off with the hand not clutching the piece of cheap fabric for dear life. Eddie cackles as he approaches you. “God, if that nickname sticks he’s gonna leave us in the dust.”

Steve gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like he’s been stabbed. “I would never!”

–

Fast forward to the second semester of Freshman year, and Steve’s already… different. Sure, he still hangs out with you, but he’s barely acknowledged Eddie since Homecoming. In fact, Eddie’s been drifting further from both of you, instead hanging out more with Chris, as well as some Dungeons and Dragons dweebs from his lunch period. 

–

“And then, well, y’know.” Eddie sits back in his chair, and the shift in position has you clenching your thighs together in a panic. Don’t fucking move.

Steve shrugs. “I think I have since made up for who I was in high school, Eddie. It’s your turn, Jon.” Jonathan is shaken out of his haze, flicking his fringe out of his eyes before leaning forward and spinning the bottle. It lands on Jeff. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm, dare.”

Jonathan dares Jeff to take a gravity bong rip, which Jeff accepts. You and your friends cackle when he can’t hold his smoke, sputtering and coughing on the exhale, head shaking with disgust and discomfort. The round ends with everyone having done at least one, and it’s once again Robin’s turn to spin the bottle. When it lands on you, the room seems to stiffen, and you probably could have heard a pin drop if you focused hard enough. “Bee, truth or dare?”

“Have I mentioned today how much I despise you?” You have no real malice in your tone, but she pouts at you anyway. 

“Truth.” 

“Ugh! Oh for two. Fine, be honest: how uncomfortable are you right now?” She cocks an eyebrow, and you take a beat to think about your answer. Truthfully, you’re not the slightest bit uncomfortable. Physically, you and Eddie seem to fit together, moving in sync without an issue as the game continues. You’re not laser focused on the way his strong legs feel underneath you, or the fact that your ass has been sat on his crotch for at least the last forty five minutes. His hand hasn’t moved from your hip, and he’s been rubbing grounding circles on the sliver of exposed skin above your jeans and below the hem of your shirt. You feel safe, and that information doesn’t even freak you out.

“Hello? You in there, Bee?” You’re dragged from your thoughts, and your gaze shifts from Robin to Eddie, who’s waiting eagerly for your answer, eyes wide and waiting.

You shrug. Because it’s no big deal. “He’s kinda bony, but I’m alright.” You feel him laughing, and you giggle along with him when Robin groans. “Face it, Rob. We’ve just matured so much since the last time we played this game.” You reach over to poke at her, and she shoos you away with a huff. 

–

Eventually, the game comes to a natural end, and your friends and acquaintances begin to empty the apartment. You’re left on the couch nursing a water bottle Steve had shoved into your hand about half an hour ago, when you’d mistaken his ficus for a toilet. Now you owe him a ficus. You’ve stripped down to your change of clothes: a pair of satin shorts and a big tee shirt that almost reaches your knees. It’s when he approaches that you thank your past self for stashing the clothes in your backseat, preventing you from being caught with your pants down, literally. 

“Mind if I sit?” You look up to find Eddie hovering over you, holding a can of beer in one hand and an unlit joint in the other. You pat the cushion next to you, curling your feet into your body to give him more room. “You doin’ okay? You’re looking a little…” He trails off, searching for a word that isn’t a synonym for “horrible.”

“Sickly? Pale? Greasy? Clammy? I’m sure.”

“I was gonna say tired. You sleepin’ here?”

You nod, then wince at the way your brain pinches with the movement. “Yeah, no way am I in any shape to go home. What about you?”

Eddie nods, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Steve said the floor was all mine. Such a generous guy.”

You are not responsible for what you say next. “You can sleep next to me, if you want.”

He turns his head slowly, like sudden movement would spook you. “What?”

“What, what? There’s plenty of space, this couch takes up the entire damn room.” The couch is massive, with two chaise lounges and a stretch of pillowy cushions in between. It would be a ridiculous thing to own with only two people to use it, but Steve and Robin throw enough ragers to warrant the extra space. 

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Why would I be fucking with you?”

He can’t find a real answer, so he deflects. “Because I’m so much fun to fuck with, obviously.”

“Whatever. If you wanna be weird and sleep on the uncomfortable, stinky carpet, go right ahead.” You yank the blanket to your chin and turn your back to him. Instead of resigning to the floor, you feel the cushions shift, and dare to peek at the man across from you. You catch him just as he yanks his jeans down, metal clanging as he tosses them to the floor. You gulp when he lifts his shirt over his head, leaving just his boxers clinging to his soft form. For what seems like the hundredth time tonight, you’re squeezing your thighs together. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, and you pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not sleeping.”

“Ugh, how?” You snap, irritated more with yourself than with him.

“Your breathing. It’s too quick, too irregular.”

“I could have been having a nightmare.”

“Nah, you talk in your sleep. I would have known.” You gape at him, though he probably can’t see your flabbergasted expression in the dark.

“You remember that?”

“Bee, I practically lived with you at one point. Of course I do, that shit gave me nightmares!”

You snort, remembering the way Eddie would recap what you’d said while unconscious the night before. “Yeah, I said some weird shit.”

“Some seriously freaky shit.”

“Speaking of, what were you gonna say?”

“Oh, right. I uh, wanted to ask you. About earlier. Was that, like, too weird for you?”

“What, the game?” You play dumb. You don’t know exactly where he’s going, but you have a feeling it’s gonna get way less lighthearted. 

“Yeah, I guess. Like, the whole thing. I wouldn’t have held it against you if you didn’t wanna stay sitting there. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable to be around me.” You can’t see him, but you could swear you hear his voice crack with nerves. “I know we were, like, inebriated or whatever, but I still wouldn’t want you to feel like, pressured or–”

“Eddie. It’s okay. You were a perfect gentleman.”

 “I wouldn’t say perfect.” 

“Oh?” You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. “What do you mean by that?” 

A loaded silence follows. Then, after a deep breath, the words drip from his mouth. “I had pictured you in my lap under different circumstances so many times, Bee. It was practically impossible to ground myself.” The pounding in your ears is louder, faster. You can feel it between your legs now, too. “Sorry, too much?”

“No! No, just,” You’re at a loss. How he says these things like it’s nothing, like he’s just shooting the shit with a friend. Casually. “You can’t just say shit like that to me.”

“Why not?” It feels like a challenge.

“Because, Eddie! We aren’t, like, besties. Not anymore! There is so much we still haven’t fucking talked about and you’re talking to me like you’re the same horn dog teenager I knew before shit hit the fan. It feels like you don’t see how badly you hurt me.” 

“Of course I know how badly I hurt you, sweetheart. I spent every day for the last six years thinking about what I did. What I should have done. I’ve come to the conclusion that nothing I do now will make up for it, but I am gonna do whatever I can to be honest with you. Fully. From now until you kick me out of your life forever.”

In the safety of the dark, you find yourself confident as you respond. “And that includes your horny thoughts… why?”

“Because I am a twenty something year old man and most of my honesty comes from my dick.”

You cackle despite the growing frustration in your chest. “Okay, I think you’re still too drunk. Time for bed, perv.” “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure to take all this back when we sober up.” You don’t respond out loud, but the words “I hope not” float through your brain as you begin drifting out of consciousness, your legs entwined with Eddie’s, his leg hair tickling your skin. Soon, his snoring pulls you under, and your mind goes blank. 

–

You wake up to the sound of Eddie’s snoring in your ear. “What the f– Ah!” You shove yourself backwards, registering Eddie’s mess of curls tickling your nose, his head resting next to yours, a far different position than you remember him falling asleep in. He doesn’t budge with your outburst, still dead asleep as you collect your thoughts. “Eddie? Eddie!” You start shaking him, and he groans at the disturbance. “Why are you, like, on top of me?”

“Hm? Good mornin’, princess.” His voice is raspy with sleep and you clench your fists to distract yourself from the shivers it causes. “You were havin’ a nightmare, you don’t remember?”

You furrow your brow, trying to recall your dream. Vaguely, you can remember Eddie and Chris, the three of you as kids playing some game or another like you always had. You can sort of remember not being included, like the two of them couldn’t see you. “Did I talk again?”

Eddie laughs, but not at you. “A little, yeah. Started yellin’ my name at some point. That’s what woke me up.”

You hide your face in your hand. “God, I’m sorry. That’s so embarrassing.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Felt like old times, a little bit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you missed me fucking up your REM cycle.” You’re joking, but his smile softens at your words.

“I really, really did. Believe it or not.” This radical honesty is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. “So, anyway. I woke up, flipped around, hugged you for a while. You seemed to be okay after that. Sorry. I didn’t wanna risk waking you up. I know it worked when we were kids.”

You remember when Eddie would sleep over on weekends and during the summer. You, him, and Chris would sprawl out in the living room. Sometimes, you’d watch scary movies, and as a result you’d get the scariest nightmares about Jason Vorhees or Ghostface or whoever the slasher was that night. Eddie had somehow discovered that wrapping himself around you like a koala would calm you down, and you’d wake up in his very sweaty embrace, feeling extremely well rested. You feel that same relaxation now, Eddie’s nose inches away from yours. 

“Thanks.” You whisper the word, but he hears you.

“Don’t mention it.”

You could leave it there. Get up and pretend none of it ever happened, but you can’t. “Every day I think you can’t bewilder me any more than you already have, and every day I’m wrong.” You dare to look him in the eye as you say it, dare yourself to feel everything you’d been avoiding until this point. “What the fuck are you doing to me, Munson?”

He shrugs, then rests a hand on your waist. “I’m makin’ up for lost time.”