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alrightieaphroditie · 10 months

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sticky situations | j.m

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pairing *:·ﾟdbf!joel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ5k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! pretty much porn w/ minimal plot, dads best friend, age gap (reader is in early 20s, joel is like late 30s/early 40s) kissing, fun with popsicles (so like ice play, in a way), brief mention of choking, titty play, pet names (lots of ‘baby’ and ‘honey’) dirty talk, praise, slight humiliation if you squint, smidge of mutual masturbation, bossy!joel, unprotected p in v (please wrap it before you tap it), slight breeding kink, probably poorly written smut… i think that’s it :)) an *:·ﾟi lowkey told myself i’d never write a dad’s best friend joel miller story and yet here i am. this literally came to me in a fever dream, and i promise i am still working on my screwed series, but i could not stop writing this. mostly unedited (my bad) but i feel hella proud with this one, so i really hope you all enjoy!! stay safe if your celebrating the fourth today!

synopsis *:·ﾟbeing in a secret relationship with your dad's best friend isn't for the weak. while getting some popsicles from the garage, said boyfriend - joel miller - corners you during the firework show after you spent the day teasing him.

the scorching texas sun was high in the sky, and the sounds of children squealing carried loudly over the radio playing. the miller’s (moreso tommy, even though he didn’t technically live there) had been kind enough to open their pool to the neighborhood for the fourth of july holiday, and on a day like today, you weren’t surprised that their backyard was crammed full of people.

given that your father was joel miller’s best friend, you had already had plans to come utilize his pool, but now you could barely float like you planned with how many children were swimming in it. sarah’s soccer team had come over after practice as well, and it was to the point where even walking in the backyard was like walking through a landmine; you were consciously trying not to bump into anyone or step on a foot (or a child.)

your father had planted himself at the grill with the host himself, the two of them talking about god knows what. every now and then you’d catch joel’s eyes, and he’d take in the bikini top you wore, the sage green color complementing your skin.

you had told your father that you had bought it at the mall last weekend, but the truth was that joel had bought it for you, along with the skimpiest bottoms he could find. those you were wearing too, but you had them concealed by a pair of jean shorts. with the way he was eyeing right now, and the way you were subsequently eyeing him back, you were surprised that no one around you had picked up on the fact that you two were together.

it had been a few months, pretty much ever since you came home to your dad’s from school for the summer. he had moved into this neighborhood after your parents divorce, and when he told you back in january that he had the most amazing neighbor, you were happy for him. flash forward to your visit during spring break and it was joel miller this and joel miller that in your house. not that you really minded, you thought the contractor next door was very handsome, even if he was almost twenty years older than you.

your dad had introduced the two of you during your spring break, with joel being an absolute gentleman, and for a little bit that was all you had. but then your dad was pulled away for work, and even though you were fully an adult, he wanted someone to be there for you if needed. he gave you joel’s phone number, along with the promise that joel would do anything to help you, and that started the snowball effect to the beginning of your relationship.

you hardly used the number while you were home, but for some reason you found yourself staring at it one night alone when you were back in your apartment. joel hadn’t given you any hint, any indicator that he even liked you as a person. you mean, sure, he was kind and always polite to you when your dad had him over for dinners. but you noticed he always purposefully put some type of distance between you, and it just didn’t sit right with you.

so, slightly drunk and alone, you sent him the first text message. a simple, hey, it’s y/n from next door, and then, because you were in a mood and wanted attention: sorry to bother you so late, but my dad told me to text you if i ever needed anything. immediately after you wished you could’ve deleted it, and a few minutes had passed before you decided to put your phone down for the rest of the night. just as you placed it on the table next to your bed, you felt it buzz. think he meant that for when you’re next door, but what can i do for ya?

and that was that. you and joel texted throughout the night, and then all morning, and all afternoon, and all the next night. this continued for weeks, until you graduated to having nightly phone calls, and then facetime calls (you had to have joel ask sarah how to use facetime to begin with, but you thought that was cute) and for the rest of the semester, joel became your closest friend, and your biggest crush. and when you came home for the summer, you officially started dating joel miller. well… it was official between the two of you.

you never imagined falling for your dad’s best friend, and yet, here you were, in his backyard, wearing the bathing suit he had bought you, wishing you could at least hold his hand in front of everyone.

you saw his brown eyes dart in your direction as you moved near the grill, your ears picking up their conversation about the most recent football game. you watched as his pinky finger on the hand by his side extended ever so slightly, and as you walked passed, you brushed your pinky against his. the warmth the feeling gave you made you grin, and you slipped through his open back door, looking for sarah to help you and tommy set up the fireworks display in the street.

the rest of the evening went by in a blur - there were hotdogs and burgers eaten, smores were made with the small bonfire tommy had started, the music volume continued to increase with every passing hour. by the time the sky was pitch black with only a smattering of stars, everyone was full, content, and ready to sit on the sidewalks and lawns to watch the display happening at the end of the cul-de-sac.

you sat near sarah and some of her friends from soccer, listening to them gossip about what was going on in their highschool, but your focus was on joel. your eyes followed every movement of his, watching him pick up the boxes you had hauled out there and rearrange them. the gray t-shirt he was wearing was tighter around his arms, and you watched as the material strained against his biceps, his worn blue jeans curving to the muscles in his thighs.

the sun had gone down hours ago, but your cheeks were burning like it was still noon.

it finally came time for them to start the first round, and everyone chatted excitedly as they watched tommy set up the firework. you watched as joel tossed his brother a lighter, and before you knew it, sparks were flying across the pavement, and both brothers were running from it laughing. everyone’s head tilted back as they followed the spark, and seconds later a ground shaking boom exploded, the sky becoming colored in blue sparks. the children cheered, the adults laughed, and the dogs went crazy barking.

you watched a couple more rounds, grinning as kids began chasing each other with sparklers and laughing when tommy burned his finger slightly on a rouge firework. pushing up on your feet, you wiped your pants for straw pieces of grass while you turned to sarah. “hey, i’m gonna go grab a popsicle, do you want one, hun?” the girls eyes met yours and she nodded her head while still talking to her friend.

you made your way into the garage where you knew joel kept a deep freezer full of goodies on sarah’s behalf. you grabbed the first one you saw, a red cherry popsicle, and opened it while you searched the freezer for sarah’s favorite. you were so preoccupied that you didn’t make out the sound of the door to the garage click shut under the noise of the fireworks, didn’t realize that you were no longer alone until you shifted up and rough, callused hands spread across your exposed middle.

“joel,” you gasped, turning around in his grip with a laugh. his brown eyes were lit with amusement, but they darkened slightly as they roamed down your chest, down your hips where the strings of the bikini bottoms were peaking out. his hands slid down your sides, resting on the waistband of your shorts as he tucked his fingers through the belt loops.

“y’just had to wear this damn bikini, didn’t you?” his voice was rough, grumpy almost, but that was joel’s typical voice, so you just laughed in response. behind you, the freezer door fell shut, and joel took the opportunity to lift you up so that you were sitting on top. the cold surface made you shiver, but it was joel stepping between your legs, pressing his hips against yours harshly that gave you goosebumps.

“well, a nice older man did buy it for me, so i felt compelled.” you teased, moving one of your arms to rest against his shoulder while you licked along your popsicle, the treat already melting in the heat building up in the garage. joel’s eyes zeroed in on the movement, and you couldn’t help but grin as you repeated the motion, sucking the popsicle further in your mouth than probably necessary, watching as his brown eyes practically blended in with his pupils.

“god, you’re trouble,” joel managed to get out before his lips slanted over yours. you moaned into the kiss, consciously holding your popsicle to the side so it didn’t get all over the two of you. your other hand moved to the back of his head, fingers running through his brown locks gently. joel swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and made a low humming sound. “taste like cherries,” he commented, sliding his hand from your waist up to your throat.

“it’s the popsicle,” you gasped out, feeling joel’s hand encompass your neck. he pulled your hips forward against his by your belt loop, rocking you against him. his lips trailed from yours down to your jaw, down your neck, to your chest. the action had you panting out his name like a prayer, and it only further encouraged him. he managed to untie your bikini top without you noticing, and he roughly yanked the material over your head.

“let me see this thing,” leaning back, he took the popsicle from your grip, your hand becoming sticky from it melting in your hand. he licked it himself, which had you giggling, but then he put the treat up to your mouth. “open up, baby. wanna see you lick this like you lick me, yeah?” his voice was soft, comforting almost, which went against the actions of his hands, as one tightened around your neck and the other pushed the cherry treat into your mouth.

your eyes went hazy, and you focused on maintaining eye contact with joel while your face burned with heat. your mouth wrapped around the popsicle, letting him push it in as far as it could go. the coldness of the treat shocked you momentarily, feeling a slight burning sensation against your tongue as he held the popsicle in your mouth for a moment before slowly pulling it out.

your cheeks hollowed against it, sucking as much of the flavor off as you could, and when joel pulled it out of your mouth, a red string of your spit fell from your lips to your chest, dripping down in between the valley of your breasts. “fuck, honey.” joel groaned, his hips rutting against yours momentarily before he leaned down, licking up the trail of red juice on your skin. a whimper escaped from your mouth as you pressed your chest closer to his mouth, and joel took the opportunity to force the popsicle back in your mouth.

he slowly moved the popsicle inside your mouth, and even though he had his eyes closed while he pressed his mouth against your chest, you twirling your tongue around the treat, wanting to please him always. you could feel your bathing suit bottom sticking to your core with how wet you were becoming, and you wiggled your hips against joel’s body to get some type of friction.

he sucked one last kiss against your neck, biting against your skin before he pulled away. “goddamn, baby. such a good girl for me, huh? suckin’ on this popsicle like it’s my damn cock.” his crude words made you whimper, and with one last twist, he pulled the popsicle out of your mouth. his dark eyes stared at your mouth for a moment, taking in how red the popsicle made your lips. how wet they were from your saliva.

joel’s mouth formed into a smirk before it was pressed against yours. your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp faintly. he sucked your bottom lip in his mouth, running his tongue over it slowly as if savoring the cherry flavor. his teeth nipped your lip, causing a moan to emit from your mouth. joel grinned against your mouth, and you tugged him closer, desperately seeking more.

the air in the garage was becoming suffocating, and you could feel sweat forming along your upper body. joel could feel it too, still clad in his t-shirt and jeans, and he gave you one more deep kiss before he pulled away. “you feelin’ hot, baby?” you could only nod your head, a whimper escaping your mouth as he grinned wickedly at you, eyeing the popsicle once more, the treat half melted. “let’s cool ya down, then.”

you watched with a slightly opened mouth as joel moved the popsicle to your chest, and you gasped when he pressed it against your skin, moving it down the valley of your breast. the coldness made goosebumps rise across your chest, and you couldn’t help the small moans at how good it felt. joel’s attention was solely on popsicle, watching the sticky trail of red juice follow where he guided it.

“joel,” you whimpered, reaching down to grip his forearm tightly. you could see him smile, could see him bite down on his bottom lip as he moved the popsicle to trail over your nipple. the gasp you made had him obsessed, and he ran the cold treat over your sensitive nub over and over again, taking in your gasps and moans, which were being drowned out by the fireworks outside.

“fuck, you look so pretty like this.” joel muttered, almost to himself, but you could make out the words in his deep voice. he sounded strained, as if he were holding himself back from simply pouncing on you. you wish he would, though, as you could feel your inner thighs become wet with your slick. your core was clenching around nothing, and it had been so long since the two of you were able to get away that you were desperately aching for him.

the popsicle was melting quicker now, the juices moving swiftly down your stomach as joel traced the popsicle across your chest to the other nipple. you were squirming as much as you could, seconds away from begging joel to stop and to just fuck you already. but you could see it in his eyes that he wanted this, that he was enjoying this, so you let him have it, and you admired the growing bulge in his jeans.

soon the popsicle was nothing but a puddle mixed into your skin, and joel tossed the stick to the side. “think i need to clean you up now, baby. look at the mess you made,” he said with a tsk, as if you were the one who drew on your chest with the popsicle. you didn’t have it in you to argue, though, especially when joel bent down and took your sensitive nipple in his mouth.

the contrast of the cold popsicle juice with joel’s warm mouth had you groaning, and you slumped against the garage wall as joel traced the popsicle trail with his tongue across your chest. he would pause here and there to place open mouthed kisses along your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d have some small bruises littering your skin. you liked wearing them though, liked having the reminder than joel had marked you as his. because you were, undoubtedly.

“joel, baby, please,” you whimpered, not fully understanding what you were asking for, but joel thought you were begging so beautifully. he wanted to hear you plead his name for the rest of his life. he pulled your nipple in his mouth, tweaking it with his teeth. a sharp pain flitted through your body, only lasting a second, but he did it again, and again, and soon you were panting.

“please, what?” joel mocked, grinning against your skin as he moved to squeeze your breast with his rough hands. “this not enough for ya?” satisfied that he cleaned up the mess the popsicle had made, he trailed his mouth up to your neck and across your jaw before pausing right in front of your face. his breath was warm as it fanned across your face, and you leaned in to kiss him but he pulled away, a teasing grin on his face.

“no,” you whined, moving your hands down the waist of his jeans. he let your fingers fumble with the button before he unbuttoned his pants himself, yanking the zipper down. your hand went inside his boxers immediately, and joel let out a curse as your fingers wrapped around the hard length of this cock. just the feeling of it in your hand had you moaning, and you slid your hand along his shaft the best you could in your position.

“‘course it ain’t enough for you. your needy little cunt needs more, yeah? needs my cock in it to stretch it out?” his hips moved in rhythm with your hand, his hand resting against the freezer top in a fist. his eyes fell shut as you pumped along his cock, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him. you loved seeing him like this, because it made you feel powerful. like you were the only person who could bring joel pleasure like this.

with a growl, joel’s hands suddenly moved to your shorts, where he unbuttoned them with swiftness and yanked them down. you lifted your hips, helping him get the material past your thighs, and they fell to the garage floor. “feet up, baby.” joel tapped your thigh gently, and you removed your hand from his boxers, lifting your legs up and bending your knees to rest your feet on the edge of the freezer.

you wanted to blame the wet feeling between your legs on the humid air gathering inside the garage, but you would’ve been a damn liar. you could feel yourself soaking through the material of your bikini bottoms, and you knew the moment joel was able to see it because he let out a string of curses. he brought his hand to the material, running his fingers gently down the seam, and you both moaned.

“jesus christ, honey. have you been wet like this for me the entire time?” his southern accent was starting to show more, as it did when he got excited. he ran his fingers along the seam once more before pushing the flimsy material to the side and running his finger through your wet folds, and he groaned at feeling how wet you were before sliding one of his fingers inside of you.

“oh, yes, joel. please, fuck me, please,” you whimpered, your hips rocking against the freezer in tandem with his finger as he pumped it inside of you. if you were more cognizant, you would’ve probably been embarrassed by the noise that was coming from between your legs, but you were too lost in the pleasure, especially when joel moved his thumb up to glide against your clit.

“you are askin’ nicely, baby,” he said, mostly to himself as he watched his finger push inside of you, watched the wetness that coated it with every pump. he was obsessed with the way you were clenching around him, and he could hardly wait himself to feel that movement against his dick. “yeah, i think i will fuck ya.”

with one last push, he pulled his finger out from inside you, and laughed when he heard you whine about the loss. “‘s okay, honey. promise i’m gonna fill that little pussy up with my cock real soon, okay?” he made quick work of letting his jeans hit the floor, soon followed by his boxers. his throbbing cock sprung free from his underwear, and you couldn’t help but trail your hand down to your core, pushing your bottoms to the side and slipping your fingers through your wetness at the sight of him. he let out a low groan before spitting in his hand, bringing it to the tip of his cock and slowly palming it while he watched you swirl your fingers against your clit.

“here baby, make sure ‘m nice and wet for that pussy,” joel muttered, stepping closer to your body as held the underside of his cock in his hand, still pumping it up and down slightly. you ran your fingers through your folds once more, gathering the wetness that had started to spread down your thighs, and reached out to wrap your fingers around his tip. soon, the head of his cock was shining from both his spit and your juices.

joel moved his left hand to settle on your waist, tilting his thumb down just enough to pull the material of your bikini to the side. his other hand continued to work his shaft as he moved even closer, his knees hitting against the side of the freezer. his eyes were solely focused on your exposed pussy, but you were watching his face, wanting to see his expression when he put it in for the first time.

“god, you’re so pretty down here. think i’m the luckiest man in texas, baby.” joel said, a smirk settled on his lips as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, your mouth dropping open in a sigh as you felt it slide against your clit. joel moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, and he lifted it to his mouth, holding it between his teeth. you took in the sight of his tan and toned body, and then his eyes snapped up to meet yours as he pushed the head into your wet hole, the both of you taking in each other’s reaction.

you fought the urge to close your eyes, the feeling of his big cock stretching you out was almost too much for you. your nose scrunched up slightly, and a louder moan came from your throat. for the first time that night, you were glad tommy had spent two hours shopping for fireworks, as the sound of the explosives and festivities drowned out your cries. joel bit down on his bottom lip as he continued to push himself inside of you, mentally focusing on not coming right then and there.

he paused when he was fully seated inside of you, taking a moment to catch his breath as the two of you were both panting in the heated garage. you noticed joel’s forehead had become slick with sweat, and you gently brushed back the dark hair that had fallen forward. your hand slipped down to rest on his cheek, and he pressed a kiss into the middle of your palm before he started moving his hips.

“fuck, joel,” you whimpered, your foot slipping from it’s hold on the edge of the freezer. joel moved his right hand to grip your thigh, spreading you open before him once more. his nails dug little half-moon imprints in the fat of your thigh, and the angle allowed you to take him a little deeper than before.

“that’s what i’m doin’ honey,” his words were slightly muffled from the t-shirt in his mouth, but you could see the grin from his teasing, letting out a sharp laugh before it turned into a groan. he moved to pull his cock out, and you almost cried at the loss, your hips moving on their own accord to follow his length. his grip on your waist tightened, keeping you still, until he barely had the head of his cock inside. he thrusted forward again, much quicker this time, and this time your eyes did screw shut at the feeling of is cock filling you up so completely.

your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping him so hard that you were basically anchoring yourself to him. “so deep, joel… so good,” you praised, your head rolling back on your neck as joel continued to fuck you at a thourough pace. the t-shirt fell from his mouth as he started to moan. his knees banged against the freezer, the freezer banged against the wall, and the fireworks outside masqued both the sounds. curses and praises fell from joel’s mouth - “fuckin’ hell, baby. your pussy gets tighter every damn time i fuck you, huh? you’re doin’ so good, honey, takin’ my cock like a good girl” - and you were feeling so hot, so full. joel was nearly fucking you into oblivion with how muddled your thoughts were.

the sound of his skin slapping against your wet skin was all you could focus on, a noise you would’ve been more embarrassed by if it weren’t a testament of how turned on joel made you. each stroke of his cock had you whimpering, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. you moved a hand down to your pussy, moving your fingers against your clit and brushing up against his length every time he thrusted inside of you. the action not only made heat pool to your stomach, but it made joel groan. “that’s it baby, play with that little clit of yours. gonna make yourself come on my cock tonight? gonna let me fill this pussy up with my cum?”

“oh my god, joel, please - right there,” you sobbed, your inner thighs shaking slightly as the feelings became too much to handle. joel picked up on how close you were to coming with how tightly your pussy was clenching around him, and he continued to thrust his hips against yours, the wet noises coming from between your legs made his head feel light.

small, breathy pants fell from your mouth as you moved your fingers faster against your clit, and distantly you could hear joel encouraging you to let go - “that’s it, honey. you’re takin’ my cock so well, let me make you feel good baby.” - and as joel leaned forward to place a kiss on your damp forehead, you felt yourself burst. a loud cry came from your lips as your body went rigid, little white stars showing up behind your eyelids as pleasure coursed through every vein in your body.

“oh, fuck, baby,” joel groaned out, his grip on your body becoming impossibly tight as his hips thrust into you, his movements faltering slightly. the feeling of your pussy clenching around his length while you came was what sent him over, and he ground his hips against yours as he came. you could feel his cock throbbing, the warmth from his seed filling you up as joel tilted his head back and moaned. you watched him through hooded eyes, struggling to catch your breath, but the sight of joel coming was almost enough to help you come again.

he kept his cock inside you as you both came down from your orgasms, and it moved inside you a little when he leaned forward again, making you whimper. “sorry, baby,” joel said softly, slowly pulling himself out while pressing his lips against yours. you eagerly kissed him back, moving a hand to rest on the back of his neck while he deepened the kiss. you felt unbelievably wet, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“your cum is running down my thigh, miller.” you said against his lips, causing the older man to laugh. he pulled away enough to take in the mess that was leaking out of your pussy, and then he did something that shocked you - he gathered up the slick with two of his fingers before pushing it back inside of you. your nails dug into his skin as his fingers entered your sore pussy, moaning softly as he watched himself intensely.

his gaze moved back to your eyes, where he gave you a wicked grin before leaning in to kiss you again. you sighed against his mouth, your body relaxing on the freezer before the two of you started to clean yourselves up. joel went into the house to grab a washcloth and a spare t-shirt for you, considering your chest was stained red and covered in little hickeys. he gently cleaned the mess from between your legs, then himself, and helped you pull your shorts back on. you had him help tie your bikini top again, his fingers coasting against your skin. he gave the back of your neck a quick kiss before turning you around and putting his t-shirt over you.

“there. now those pervs outside can’t catch a glimpse of ya,” he said, seeming satisfied with himself as he yanked up his pants. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes - his cum was literally dripping out of your pussy and yet he was acting jealous.

“oh? you mean pervs like you?” you teased, laughing as he swatted away your fingers that were trying to poke him. you thought you heard him mutter something in agreement, but a particularly loud firework went off at the same moment, so you were clueless. you figured that they were on the finale with how frequent and how loud the next few fireworks were, so you gave joel one last kiss before sneaking out the door, which you thankfully noticed was locked.

as you made your way to the grass, you mentally ran a checklist. you remembered to put your shorts back on, along with your top and a t-shirt. you remembered to clean off the freezer top with one of the towels joel kept in the garage, and you remembered to let your hair down to cover a hickey on the side of your neck. you remembered to go out the garage door, while joel went out through the living room, as he told tommy he was going in to get medicine for a headache. you felt like the two of you had covered all the bases as you sat down on the grass near sarah.

“hey, where are our popsicles?”

oh, fuck.

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stqrgirlie0 · 1 month

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⋆✮theodore nott-pt 2✮⋆

part 1 / part 3 / part 4

the nott family has expanded with wealth over multiple generations, an abundance of wealth. perhaps not as much as the malfoy family, but certainly a fair share. considering this, one would think that theodore nott would be just as much of a prick as his father and every other male in his family is. however he’s not. quite the opposite actually, simply put- theodore is different. logically he wasn’t supposed end up how he has end up: as an actually nice human being, but i suppose we should thank his mother for this. Mrs Nott, born into the Shafiq family, derived from immense wealth as well the community of the Scared Twenty-eight. On a rainy night of March ‘86, Theodore, at the young age of 8, witnessed his mother’s murder by the hands of Rabastan Lestrange. Since then theo has frequent and violent flashbacks, keeping him up at night, leading to severe insomnia. Draco Malfoy is the first friend he befriends before joining Hogwarts, and so creating a strong brotherly bond between the two. theo is very fond of narcissa and thankful for her presence as a motherly figure, but of course this doesn’t stop him from missing the warmth of his mother..

Starting Hogwarts and making new friends wasn’t very hard for Theo, having spent most of his time by himself, in solitude, (or with Draco) theo had absolutely no problem in drowning out his surroundings. However this would have to change, he realised this as soon as he stepped into the great hall, bustling with students, nothing like theo had ever seen before. Arriving at the Slytherin table, full of new-joiners and boisterous upper years, theo quietly took his seat next to Draco. Everything about Hogwarts was beyond Theodore’s imagination, the laughter, the decorations, the colours, the people. Over the next few weeks, theo gradually emerged from his shell, gaining confidence the more he talked to others. Soon his group of friends expanded, he was like a magnet. Everyone wanted to talk to him, everyone wanted to be friends with him, it was a shock to say the least but what can one say- Theodore Nott to this day still has that charm. 1st and 2nd year flew by, full of mischief, trouble, and memories that would be unforgettable. Speaking of memories, theo will probably remember every single memory he’s ever had (possibly because the first 8 years of his life he had so few) but he will literally remember anything and everything. theo rarely went back home for the holidays, so when summer was finally over, he was more than happy to start Hogwarts for the third year. (this year EVERYONE got their glow up, and best you believe our man theodore did asw😻😻) theodore’s third year at hogwarts consisted of the friend group to dilute into five members- him, draco, mattheo, lorenzo and blaise. the five got up to no good- staying up late in each other’s dorms doing god knows what, sneaking out of hogwarts into hogsmeade and making their teacher’s lives miserable. not shockingly the group also managed to gain a whole lotta female attention, including theo, but unlike the others theo was quite unresponsive towards this and kept to himself and his friends, (lucky for us😝).

fourth year- things got messy. this year brought him and mattheo closer than before, initiating their very own brotherly bond. they would spend late nights up at the astronomy tower and come forward with their inner thoughts and feelings. theo feels a real sense of trust when talking to Mattheo about his mother, and likewise for Mattheo while talking about his father. if you think about it, Mattheo and theo are so similar yet so different, only more the reason for them to be getting along well. when i said things got messy, i was referring to the first party the gang was invited to. ravenclaws surprising quidditch victory lead to a huge rager thrown in their common room, with students from every house invited. now, why would they say no? that very night, the miraculous creation of fire whisky was discovered, they can all handle alcohol pretty well, but going to classes the next day was the real test.. yet this didn’t stop them from hosting regular shot nights in their dorms. midway through the year, draco’s interest had piqued in one of the greengrass sisters. (of course as we all expected) astoria was one of your dearest friends and seeing her so happy in a relationship with draco made your heart swell. so this bond caused the affixion of you, along with your two other best friends- pansy and daphne, with the group of boys. little did you know that this decision would result in you and a certain boy becoming one..

#a part two bcs you guys asked so kindly🙌🏼🥹 #kinda sad at the beginning and slightly rushed at the end😬 #i think I’m gonna do a part 3 but lmk if you guys’d want that!!

taglist- @iamgayforyourmom1510

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sluttyten · 9 months

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You In My Arms

Chapter 2: In the Dark

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: You want to be the star of your own love story instead of watching your friends fall in love around you. Just one night opens your eyes to a method to put yourself in a starring role, even if it's not quite in the way you'd always imagined.

length: 11,005

tags: slowburn, friends to lovers, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (public & in private), general perversion, smut

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Haechan was your first love.

You met him at a formative time in your life, when you were getting your first true taste of freedom after moving away to attend the university of your dreams.

At first Haechan was just the funny guy in your orientation group, but then you started seeing him around campus from time to time, noticed that he sat in the middle of the large forum classroom your Psych class was held in, and then you discovered that his friends were friends with some of yours. Your circles overlapped, you were actually both studying for the same degree, and you took full advantage of both of those facts to ingratiate yourself into his life.

His name was Lee Donghyuck, but his friends called him Haechan.

The first time he smiled at you with his full, bright smile and told you to call him Haechan, you felt like your heart liquefied in your chest, filling you with this molten feeling of happiness.

But despite how hard and fast you fell for him, Haechan didn’t look at you as anything more than just one of his friends. You knew why. There was another girl in the group he had his eye on, though he never made a move on her either. You watched for years as all of you danced around each other. She dated several guys and slept around; Haechan slept around a good amount; and you did your very best to fall out of love with a guy you were fairly certain wasn’t interested.

Your mutual group of friends wasn’t one that necessarily drew lines when it came to relationships. Pretty much everyone had kissed or slept with everyone else, either directly or indirectly. You’d had your share of flings with some of the guys. A whirlwind romance over the summer between your second and third years at university with Mark, then a good portion of your third year you and Xiaojun had been fuckbuddies.

But through it all, your foolish heart was set on one man. Haechan.

It wasn’t until your last year at school that you finally saw an opportunity, a little chance for Haechan to move on from your other friend. She started sneaking around with Shotaro, and though no one called them out on it, you thought they were being pretty obvious. Disappearing together at parties, suddenly hanging out together a lot more.

But they kept it secret, so you never said a word, figuring they would tell all of you when they were ready.

Your fourth year of study was nearing the halfway point, and this semester felt the most brutal yet. The finish line was nearly in sight, and that was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. Your whole future lay on the other side of that line, and sure, you still had the rest of this semester and the next before graduation, but really that was only a few short months away.

On a long holiday weekend, your friend group planned a camping trip. Someone in the group knew someone who knew someone (a dad’s cousin’s brother-in-law’s kid type of situation) that had a lakefront property that they usually rented out to tourists, set up for glamping and boating and all sorts of things that could keep all of you well preoccupied for a weekend. A deal was made with that distant acquaintance, and your group of friends was given free rein of the property for the weekend.

You arrived late Friday night with the last of your friends. Of course, the ones that had gotten there earlier in the day had claimed the best rooms, and since you were among the last, you were stuck just wherever, which meant that you were meant to sleep in the room with Karina and Winter, which wasn’t the worst place you could think to sleep, but it wasn’t the best either. They were fine, usually friendly, but among all of your friends, you were probably the least close with them.

So you slept in the room that night, feeling like you were invading the two girls’ space, and first thing on Saturday morning, you were up and ready for the day to start.

It was a beautiful day. Since Xiaojun was studying culinary arts, he made a very nice breakfast for all of you, while YangYang – who spenting most weekends bartending – made mimosas.

Starting out, everything was great.

It was sunny and warm, the water was perfect. There was a nice little beach, a boat, a dock. Some people played in the water, a few people left to hike on trails in the woods around the lake, you played a round of beach volleyball.

It was a fun day except that Xiaojun kept sticking rather close to your side. It would have been fine if his intentions were just friendly, but it was the way he kept trying to flirt with you that put a slight downer on the day. Every time you tried to put some distance between you and him, he would find you again.

You liked him as a friend, but what you’d had with him the previous year was in the past. You weren’t interested in being anything more than friends with him right now.

At one point, you’d gone out to the end of the dock, hoping that you’d finally get the chance to be alone. Karina was floating on a fancy blow-up pool float that she’d somehow tethered to the dock to keep from floating off into the lake, but she was minding her own business, and you didn’t think she would bother you.

But then you hear footsteps behind you, and you’re ready to turn around and fuss at Xiaojun to just leave you alone, but then Haechan plops down beside you. He calls over to Karina, and you watch her flick a mildly irritated look at him, but true to character, Haechan doesn’t let that deter him. He slips into the water, and swims right over to her.

You try to ignore both of them as you lie down on your back on the weathered boards. A light breeze keeps the heat off the sun from fully baking you, and your feet are in the lake water, helping a bit with combating the heat too. You can hear Haechan and Karina talking, hear them laughing, hear voices carrying over the water from the beach behind you.

Eventually, Haechan lifts himself back up into the dock, spraying you with tiny droplets of water. You’re about to complain about that when Haechan speaks instead.

“Hey, man!” Haechan calls out in greeting. You don’t even have to look to know who it is going to be. “That breakfast this morning was great.”

“Thanks,” Xiaojun says appreciatively as he approaches. “I have plans for dinner tonight too.”

“He’s using us as a test for his restaurant plans,” you say, tilting your head and squinting in the sunlight. The shadowy figures of Xiaojun and Haechan stand there above you. “You’re both blocking my light.”

Which is how you come to be sunbathing and cloudgazing with Xiaojun and Haechan. Xiaojun’s arm rests against yours, he keeps tapping his foot against your ankle every few minutes too, and you know exactly why he’s being like this. Maybe if he would just come out and ask if you would have sex with him, you would, but he’s just constantly trying to initiate contact and being clingy instead, and you’re not enjoying that. But Haechan’s presence, on the other hand, is something you are enjoying.

He’s in a particularly good mood, chatty and laughing, pointing up at the clouds to tell you what shapes he sees.

“I used to do this a lot when I was younger,” he tells you. “My family lives in Jeju, and sometimes my younger siblings and I would just lie on the beach when we got too tired of playing, and we would look up at the clouds.”

You turn your head, resting your cheek on the warm boards beneath you as you look over at Haechan. He’s just gazing up at the sky, one arm lifted to point at a specific cloud that you have no interest in gazing at right now. You’re looking at him beside you, sunlight personified with his golden skin and bright smile. He’s talking and Xiaojun is too, but you’re not listening to either of them.

And then Haechan looks over at you, and you snap your head around to look up at the clouds again.

The rest of the day passes. Dinner preparations begin. You disappear inside to shower the feel of sweat, sunscreen, sand, and lakewater off of you. As evening sinks in, the air cools off, so you dress warmer before you return outside to sit by the fire. Most people are gathered out here, though a few of your friends are still inside cleaning themselves up or finishing up preparing food, but you find Haechan sitting in a foldable camp chair with an open seat right beside him.

You take it.

He flinches, startled at your sudden appearance, but he relaxes as you start talking. You talk about school of all things – you’d not thought ahead to figure out anything else to talk about right now, only knowing that you wanted to talk with him. But you do end up offering him some study help, and your heart beats a little faster when you think about the chance to be alone with Haechan in a study room in the library or at his dorm maybe. You enjoy Haechan’s presence, so you’ll take any opportunity to be alone with him, even if it is just to study.

“I might take you up on that. But like you said, this is a nice break,” he sighs, and tips his head back, looking similar to how he’d looked earlier on the dock. “I feel like this weekend we can all just relax and let loose.”

You want to let loose, really. To be a little careless tonight and just let your walls fall down, maybe use the excuse of some alcohol to kiss Haechan, to entice him into bed, and if it’s weird in the morning then you can just blame it on the alcohol. Your mind plays with the idea of drunkenly kissing Haechan tonight, sliding into his lap here at the bonfire to kiss him in front of all of your friends. You can already imagine the hoots, whistles, and catcalls, the sounds of surprise because none of them would expect something like that of you.

You want to let loose, to look as carefree and relaxed as Haechan does.

Haechan looks over at you, and you realize you’re smiling. He smiles too, an almost involuntary curve of his lips to match your own.

"When do you ever hold back from letting loose, Lee Donghyuck?" You ask, feeling a happy laugh bubble from your lips. He always seems so carefree, very go-with-the-flow and happy. The idea of Haechan needing to become more loose makes you laugh.

You see a hint of surprise in his eyes before he’s laughing with you. And then you’re laughing even harder, both of you leaning in towards each other with the gravity of the emotions.

To no one’s surprise, least of all your own, Xiaojun appears to take the seat on your other side, wondering what you’re both laughing about. He does his very best to steal your attention away from Haechan, and it actually works.

You do like Xiaojun, he’s a good friend, which is why your friends with benefits relationship had worked out so well for so long last year; he knows the right things to say to you, so you are fully swept into a new conversation with him, and when you next look around, Haechan is gone.

You try not to let your disappointment show, but you think it must anyway because Xiaojun seems to make it his purpose for the rest of the evening to cheer you up. The food does a good job of that, and then Xiaojun and Chenle’s company does well at keeping you entertained as night falls, a chill creeping in off the lake, and YangYang’s alcoholic creations – as well as a typical cooler of beer – make their rounds.

You don’t really pay too much attention to the rest of your friends while Chenle is regaling you with a tale of a trip he took, and you’re definitely not paying attention to how much other people are drinking, until you start hearing raised voices, teasing laughter, and Haechan’s voice cutting above the rest. You turn to look.

They’re teasing Shotaro again, that quickly becomes obvious.

He’s sitting there in his seat beside your friend he’s secretly been hooking up with for weeks now, and he looks a little embarrassed, but he’s still in the stage of not minding it. But Haechan is the one leading the teasing, and as you watch, you can tell that he’s setting Shotaro’s girl off, she’s getting rather prickly.

You can tell Haechan is a bit more drunk than most other people. There’s a flush to his cheeks and his neck, a hazy gleam to his eyes, a slight slur to his speech. He’s not wasted, but he’s more drunk than not. He’s just teasing, and as you listen to him, you realize that he’s throwing a few barbed points in there, like he knows something most of your friends don’t.

Does he know about the secret relationship too?

She gets all defensive, throwing some shots back at Haechan, and that’s when you see the drunken haze clear in his eyes, replaced by an angry heat as she calls his skills in bed into question. The teasing has become an argument, and you watch as Haechan rises to his feet, ready to face off with the girl, and he likely would have if it weren’t for Shotaro and Renjun stepping in.

Renjun propels Haechan back into the cabin while Shotaro leads his girlfriend off towards the dark lakeshore.

“Wow,” Xiaojun whistles beside you. “What the hell was that about?”

Chenle laughs. “Taro and her have something going on, don’t they? And Haechan is jealous.”

You keep glancing towards the house, looking for any sign of Renjun and Haechan returning. It was both a little bit scary and also arousing to watch Haechan get so heated. He had been a little bit of a dick, trying to out the secret couple to everyone, and also for really getting in there with teasing Shotaro.

You’d once talked about it with Shotaro, and he told you that he usually didn’t mind the teasing, because he knew it was lighthearted and it’s just the way that all of the friends teased each other. But you also knew that sometimes it got taken a bit too far, and it was clear that tonight the scales had tipped more in that direction. Haechan had almost pushed it too far tonight, and you knew he was drunk so his judgment was perhaps a bit impaired in that regard.

Eventually the happy couple returns to the bonfire, receiving congratulations from your friends, and a while after that Haechan returns.

You keep looking at him, unable to keep your eyes off of him for too long. The flush has faded from his cheeks, and he keeps drinking water for the rest of the night while he snacks on leftovers from dinner, on s’mores YangYang makes, on snacks that people had brought down from the cabin earlier.

Slowly everyone turns in for the night until only a few of you remain, the number dwindling down to just you, Xiaojun, Jeno, Mark, Haechan, Shotaro, and Shotaro’s girlfriend.

Haechan has been moodily staring into the fire for the past fifteen minutes. You’ve been watching him do that while ignoring the way that Xiaojun has his hand resting in the armrest of your chair, palm-up like he wants you to take notice, as if he’s hoping that you’ll take his hand and go into one of the fancy glamping tents that are set up sporadically between the cabin and the lakeshore.

It’s gotten a lot colder as the night has drawn on. Even with your pants and sweatshirt, with a blanket draped over your lap and the blazing fire, you still feel chilled every time that a lick of wind blows in off the lake. It doesn’t help that your feet are bare, so you pull them up beneath your blanket as you shiver.

Xiaojun notices of course, and he grabs the blanket someone had left on the chair on his other side, and he covers your lap with it. If you’re this cold that you need a second blanket, you think maybe it’s time that you go inside the warmer cabin for the night. Besides, it’s getting late.

Jeno, who you’re fairly certain has been in a competition with himself for how much he can drink tonight without getting blackout drunk, grins crookedly, and suggests, “Maybe before we head in, we all take a dip in the hot tub?”

“Nah, I think I’m done for the night,” Mark sighs and rises to his feet. “It’s too cold.”

“I’m sure it helps that you’ve got someone new to warm your bed though, I bet, Mark!” Jeno laughs as Mark gets up and starts to walk away.

You laugh along with the rest, knowing that Jeno’s referring to how Mark and one of the girls had disappeared into the cabin for a while earlier tonight. Mark just flips you all his middle finger.

To your surprise, it’s the new happy couple on the other side of the fire that agrees with Jeno. Haechan lifts his gaze from the fire, brushing it over the couple, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he looks at Jeno. Haechan shrugs and agrees, and from there of course you’re going to agree too. Xiaojun, to your complete surprise, decides that he’s just going to head to bed.

Xiaojun trudges back to the house alone, wishing you all a good night. The five of you follow the path back up to the cabin’s deck, walking around the side of the deck to the hot tub.

You feel only slightly embarrassed as you watch the others quickly strip their clothes off. Shirts, sweatshirts, pants until they’re left only in their underwear. Haechan at least still had his swim trunks on from earlier today when everyone had been in the lake, so he’s provided a bit more coverage than the rest of you. You feel his eyes dart over to you as you’re the last to let your shirt fall, the last to shimmy your sweatpants down to your ankles, slipping them off along with your socks.

You’re too aware that the bra and panties you’re wearing are mismatched. Panties white (a horrible choice for wearing into a hot tub, but it’s not like when you’d dressed earlier this evening you’d expected the night to go like this) and your bra just a lacy bralette that hugs your tits and does very little to hide the way that your nipples peak in the cool night air. You quickly step into the hot tub and dunk yourself in up to your chin, hoping the bubbling surface will hide you.

It doesn’t take long for you to relax. None of them care or notice. Shotaro and his sweetheart are too enamored with each other. Jeno is finally teetering on the edge of dozy drunkenness. Haechan keeps alternating between looking up at the night sky and trying not to look at the girl tucked against Shotaro’s side. He’s sitting beside you though, and his knee keeps nudging yours under the water.

One of the jets sits between you and Haechan, and it keeps brushing your side and your thigh, tickling you in a way that thrills you more than anything else. A different wet heat builds between your legs, especially when Haechan leans over to laugh at something you’ve said and he rests a hand momentarily on your thigh.

You try to ignore your desires. To push it all down and tell yourself that you’re being stupid right now.

But then his arm drapes over your shoulders (and Jeno’s on his other side, but you pretend that doesn’t matter) and all thoughts vanish except for your brain making a static moan at the feeling of his body warm and hard against your side, his fingers resting against your upper arm. His laugh sounds right beside your ear.

You don’t even remember what it is that all of you talk about. Maybe classes. Maybe finals coming up or plans for the winter break that follows. It’s not until you smile at the cuddly couple across from you, until Haechan tenses up and withdraws his arm from your shoulders that your mind snaps back into place.

He stands up and you lift your gaze in awe of him. Water drips from his shoulders over his chest and down his stomach to his navel and his hips. The swim trunks hang low on his hips, weighed down by the water soaking them, drawing your gaze even lower. You bite your tongue as you notice the slight bulge in the front of his shorts, and again you feel a pulse of need and want in your core.

Haechan doesn’t say a word, just climbs out, grabs his clothes and disappears around the corner of the cabin.

Is that it? He’s done for the night? He’s had enough of the happy couple rubbing it in his face?

You immediately want to follow him, but you give it a few minutes before you bid the others goodnight, and you hurriedly pull yourself from the water, cursing as the bitter air bites in deep. Even once you’ve bundled your dry clothes against your chest and made a run for the back door of the cabin, you’re shivering and wishing one of you had at least thought to grab towels.

Jeno’s only a few steps behind you. He looks happy as he comes through the door, a loose grin on his lips. He drops his armful of clothes into one of the chairs around the small kitchen table, mumbles a goodnight, and then he vanishes through the doorway that leads to the room several of the guys are sharing tonight.

There’s a vent blowing warm air positioned right beside the kitchen table, and as a shiver wracks your body, you collapse into one of the chairs right there. You fold your arms on the table, drop your forehead onto your arms, and you try to purge your mind and body of the lust you’re feeling from the sight of Haechan emerging from the hot tub like a sea god.

It doesn’t work.

Your mind’s eye keeps honing in on that bulge you’d seen. You’ve heard tales before of Haechan. He’s a little bit of a manwhore at times, slept with plenty of girls you’ve been friends with, so you’ve got some awareness of what he’s like. You’ve got a mental image painted by a very descriptive sex-positive friend of yours majoring in the liberal arts. She has an emphasis in painting and poetry, both of which she has created for almost all of her partners including Haechan.

So you have a somewhat specific idea of what his dick may look like, and a more general idea of what kind of skills he might possess, and neither of those things are what you need right now when you’re desperately horny and stuck in a house with all of your friends and zero privacy.

But they are all sleeping, right? Karina and Winter had turned in rather early, so they’re probably deep into REM sleep, so if you just quietly come into the room, maybe you can try to quietly rub one out before sleep. Or you could try to sneak into the shower. It would be nice and warm in there, private too.

Before you can make a decision, you hear the squeak of a floorboard, and the soft sound of bare feet on the floor. You turn your head so you can see who it is.

Haechan.

His eyes land on you, a glimmer of surprise and then his face lights up.

“Are you just gonna sleep out here?” He teases. “You know the King bed upstairs is still open if it’s the idea of rooming with Karina and Winter that has you scared to sleep in there.”

You have nothing against those two. They’re nice and friendly, but you’re not terribly close with them, and when you’d placed your bag on the bottom bunk the previous evening upon your arrival, they’d exchanged looks that made you feel like they’d rather share the room themselves without your presence. Last night had been fine, and it’s not the reason you’re lingering out here at all.

Haechan looks at you, like really looks at you, and suddenly you remember that you’re still in just your bralette and panties, still clinging wetly and semi-transparently to you. All of you is exposed in that moment. A blush rises hotly to your cheeks as you rock up to your feet. You press your clothes close to your chest again.

“Why is no one sleeping up there?” You ask, glancing at the set of stairs that leads up to the only King bed in the cabin.

“A few of us played for it last night. Winner got the single room.” He grins, and proudly tells you. “I won. But I’m not tired yet, so you’re definitely welcome to sleep up there if you want.”

Your heart stutters briefly in your chest. “And what about when you do get tired? Where are you gonna sleep then?”

He shrugs. “That’s a problem for then. I’m gonna head back outside. Fire’s still going so someone should probably keep an eye on it.”

Haechan reaches for the doorknob of the door, and right as it turns in his hand, the words leap out of you: “When you get tired, Haechan….” He turns to look at you, and his eyes are gentle and deep, and you forget your words for a moment. “Uh, well… it’s a big bed. I'm happy to share.”

You’re definitely a little bit in love with the way he smiles then. This slow smile, surprised and leaning a little bit towards a smirk. His eyes sweep over you quickly, from your bare toes curling on the floor up to your face which feels hot right now.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Haechan says, and then he’s gone, stepping out into the night.

Goosebumps rise on your skin, and you’re not entirely sure if it’s from the cool breeze that snuck inside or if it’s just a chill running down your spine at your own boldness in inviting Haechan to join you in bed. Maybe not necessarily in the way that you want him, but certainly in more of a way than you’ve had him before.

Almost as soon as the back door clicks shut again, you’re off, hurrying up the stairs and taking the turn to the King bedroom. The other doors up here are closed, and when you step inside this room, immediately you’re assaulted with the smell of Haechan’s favored fragrance. You’ve asked him before what it is, but you never remember. All you know is that this room now smells like him.

You close the door behind you, and you don’t even bother to turn on the lights. This room is situated on the corner of the house, and with windows on two of the walls, you’re provided just enough light to see by. The flickering of the firelight barely comes through the window to your left, and the window right ahead of you is filled with the glow of the lights strung through the pergola over the hot tub.

The bed is still unmade from when Haechan left it this morning. His bag is on the desk, several of his clothes flung around. There’s a door slightly ajar that leads to an en-suite bathroom. You should probably shower again after being in the hot tub, but now that you’re this close to the bed you’re not feeling like doing anything more than just crawling into bed and passing out.

Before you succumb to the lure of sleep, you take a moment to peek out the window facing the lakeshore and the bonfire. You can see the bonfire still going, see the chairs still circled around it as well as the two fancy glamping tents that no one has used yet, except Xiaojun when he took a nap earlier.

But you don’t see Haechan.

You scan the shadows, wondering if you’ve somehow overlooked him.

And then you notice a shadow stretching across the deck beneath you. A long shadow originating from the corner of the house, just out of sight. It’s definitely a man-shaped shadow, the lights over the hot tub cast the shadow diagonally backwards across the deck until it fades in the light coming from the back door. You notice the shadow isn’t moving, and you’re curious as to why.

You just barely manage to not stub your toe or trip over anything as you move across to the other window, the one looking down just around the corner of the house.

A quiet gasp leaves your mouth as you look down at the hot tub below.

Assuming that it’s Haechan’s stationary shadow at the corner of the house, you can understand why he might be frozen right there.

Shotaro and his girlfriend are having sex in the hot tub. She’s riding him, his hands all over her body as she moves on top of him. You’re sure if the window was open even a little bit you might be able to hear them.

Is Haechan down there just watching them? Like a pervert?

That’s gross….

… But you also kind of like it.

Your mind gets absorbed into a fantasy, imagining him standing there touching himself while he watches his friend fuck the girl Haechan wishes he was fucking. Haechan the voyeur, the pervert, masturbating while watching two of his friends fuck.

Thinking of that just sends you farther down the path, and you step away from the window, sliding into the bed without delay.

The sheets definitely smell like Haechan. You slide into the spot where the sheets look most rumpled, rest your head on the pillow that looks slept upon. You bury your nose in the fabric and breathe in, wrapped entirely in that scent that reminds you so much of Haechan.

Your mind still swirls with the fantasy of him down there touching himself, the images in your mind turn to just Haechan stroking his cock, maybe a scenario where he’d found you alone in the hot tub, touching yourself and he stands beside the tub, jerking off while you make yourself cum on your fingers.

You can’t help yourself when you slide your fingers down your body, dipping them inside your damp panties to touch yourself while you breathe in Haechan, while you let the scent intoxicate you and build your fantasy, although your mind can’t settle on just one. A fantasy where you’re tangled with him right here in these sheets, one where he comes up to go to bed and finds you with your fingers buried in your cunt and his name a chant on your lips, another where you joined him out at the fire to blow him while the crackling heat of the fire warms your back, and one where you’d dragged him into one of those unused tents out there and let him ride your ass until you can’t fucking move tomorrow.

You cum on your fingers, making your panties just that much wetter as you drip around your fingers and rut your hips against the bed. Your moan of Haechan’s name is muffled against the pillow as you bite down on it and wish that it was his shoulder you were biting.

Your body goes so relaxed, boneless after your orgasm. You don’t even pull your fingers away, leaving your hand inside your panties as you breathe and wait for your pounding heart to return to normal. The house is quiet around you, though you swear you hear a moan from outside the window.

You don’t know what drives you to do it, what filthy part of you thinks it’s okay, but once you regain some mobility in your limbs, you slip your hand from your panties. Your fingers are still wet and slick, and you lift them to wipe them on the pillow case, mingling your scent right there with Haechan’s. You breathe it in, and your heart thrills at the combination, the perfect perfume.

Just as you’re about to roll over, to slide onto the other side of the bed to leave Haechan’s already slept-in side for him again, the door of the room opens.

You jump slightly.

“Sorry, it’s just me.” Haechan apologizes.

You sink back into the sheets on his side of the bed. He closes the door behind him, and you hear his shuffling footsteps cross the floor. You hear the soft whisper of his sweatshirt being pulled over his head, a similar sound when a moment later he drops his swim trunks. He steps into the en-suite for a few moments, and when he emerges you can just see the shadowy shape of him moving over to his bag on the desk. He pulls out some sweatpants, slips them on and then crosses back to the other side of the bed.

“You smell like lake water, bonfire smoke, and chlorine,” you mumble as he slides into the bed. Not that it’s a bad thing that he smells like that because even under it all, you can still catch that definite Haechan-scent. You still wish you could pull yourself closer and bury your nose against him, breathing it all in.

“I’ll shower in the morning,” Haechan says, his words already half-muffled. “You’re on my side of the bed, by the way.”

He shuffles a little closer, and although this bed is big, you’re still very aware of him when his foot bumps against yours.

“You’re the one that invited me. Guess you should’ve been more specific about where you wanted me.” You flip over onto your side to face him. His eyes gleam slightly in the dim light still coming in from the lights over the hot tub.

“Next time I’ll make it clear where I want you,” Haechan says.

You don’t know what exactly he means by that, but you’ll take it as a promise that there will be a next time for you to end up in his bed.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Xiaojun asks it so casually that you almost don’t even hear the question.

Since the camping trip just two weeks ago, you’ve given in to his desires, slipped back into your old ways. Reentering into your friends-with-benefits sort of situation with him.

You’re currently in the process of extracting yourself from his bed, dressing yourself as you sit perched on the edge of the bed. You pause what you’re doing to look back over your shoulder at him.

Xiaojun is reclined among the messy sheets, carefree with his sex hair and his bare chest dotted with hickeys and marks left behind by your fingernails. He’s watching you warily.

“A date?” You ask. He nods. “Where’s this coming from?”

He shrugs. “I just thought maybe it might be nice to hang out just the two of us without it only meaning sex. Plus there’s that Halloween party tomorrow night. Most of our friends are gonna be there. There’s booze, movies, music. It should be fun.” Seeing the apprehensive look on your face, Xiaojun says, “It doesn’t have to be like a date-date. I just want to have someone there to have fun with, y’know? A date for the party.”

You like Xiaojun. He’s hot, handsome, fun. He’s nice too and he treats his dog like his firstborn child which is kinda endearing, but you’re not really into him like in a romantic sort of way. You’re too hung up on Haechan to allow yourself to truly develop feelings for anyone else. And truthfully, that night during the camping trip when you’d shared Haechan’s bed is part of the reason you’d so eagerly thrown yourself back into Xiaojun’s arms.

You’d woken late the next morning on the trip still in bed with Haechan. Your nose was buried against that spot on the pillow that smelled like you and like him, and you’d maybe let yourself watch him sleep for a few more minutes until you decided that it was creepy to watch him. So you’d left, fleeing down to the kitchen.

Haechan hadn’t even acknowledged you sharing his bed. He’d only spoken a few words to you for the rest of that day, and then that night you hadn’t dared return to that bed, too worried that you would throw yourself at Haechan and be faced with outright rejection or maybe he would accept your horny advances but that’s all it would be. Just sex, like this with Xiaojun. And you might end up heartbroken.

So you’d turned to Xiaojun.

Maybe he’s exactly the distraction you need.

“Do we have to wear costumes?” You weren’t planning to do anything like that this year, and with Halloween only a day away, your choices are probably pretty slim.

“Please?” He wheedles, giving you a sweet smile. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

The following night, you’re walking arm-in-arm with Xiaojun across the long lawn in front of one of the nicer buildings on campus. The air is rather nippy, so you wish you’d dressed warmer considering this party is outdoors, but at least there are the large bonfires to put off a bit of heat. And Xiaojun is kind and considerate and keeps you close to his side with a jacket draped over your shoulders.

The jacket kinda ruins your costume but you don’t really care. You came dressed in contrast to Xiaojun’s devilish costume, so you’re an angel tonight, wearing just a short white dress, white shoes, a hastily made halo, and enough sparkly highlighter on your face and collarbones that you seem to glow when any amount of light touches your skin.

You wander around with Xiaojun for a while, just chatting and strolling around the bonfires, stopping to grab drinks, even briefly dancing together where there’s a DJ. Eventually you find a small cluster of your friends – Renjun, Jisung, YangYang – but you visit with them only briefly before moving on.

You want some excitement tonight, and you know that Xiaojun had invited you on this not-date with a promise of seeing each other in a non-sexual way. But you want sex. That’s your favorite thing to do with Xiaojun.

So once you’ve led him away from your friends, you pull him around the side of the building that presides over this long lawn where the party is being held. Everyone is too focused on the party being held in front of the building to notice the couple sneaking around the side, so you pull Xiaojun against you as you lean back against the wall, dragging his mouth down against yours for a kiss.

He falls into that easily enough, succumbing to your kiss instantly. But you don’t want just a kiss. You want more.

Xiaojun moans softly when you curl your fingers around his wrist, when you pull his hand to your thigh. You lift the short skirt of your angelic white dress, and you guide his hand higher until his fingers find the soft warmth of your panties.

“Been thinking about your fingers, Xiaojun.” You press the words against his lips between kisses, begging a little when you say, “Need to feel your fingers inside me. Now.”

“Now?” He repeats, pulling his mouth away. “Here?”

You hum, nodding your head, using your fingers against his to massage them against your clit. Xiaojun just watches you, a curious look on his face when he asks, “Won’t we get in trouble if anyone catches us?

“No, Xiaojun, it’s kinda hot, right?” You tug him forward by the lapels of his jacket. “Please?”

“But what if someone sees?” He looks around, peeking right around the corner to the steps up into the building not so far away at all. Currently there are a few people clustered around the base of the stairs, chatting over their drinks, their laughter loud enough to mask any sounds you might make. They’re so close by, and that thrills you.

You want to know what it feels like to have sex somewhere that you might be caught, somewhere that someone might be able to watch.

Xiaojun still looks hesitant.

“Look,” you sigh, patting his shoulder lightly. “We don’t have to if you really don’t want to. I just thought it might be something fun and different.”

The way Xiaojun looks at you then tells you a lot without him even having to say any words aloud. He thought tonight might be fun and different too, different than you just wanting to fuck him.

But you’re feeling the urge to do something slightly dangerous tonight, and maybe it’s because ever since that night at the cabin about two weeks ago, all you’ve been thinking about has been the way that Haechan stood down there on the deck, peeking around the corner at Shotaro and his girlfriend. And you’ve wanted someone to watch you. Of course, a part of you kinda wishes it would be Haechan, but when you’ve actually thought about it over the recent days, you’ve realized you really like the idea of anyone watching you.

Maybe you’re an exhibitionist. It’s a new thing that has never occurred to you before, but lately it’s all you’ve been thinking about.

“I can’t.” Xiaojun shakes his head and takes a step back. “I have some… different things that I’m into, but I just can’t get into this. Public stuff is not a thing for me.”

That’s your cue to ask him what is a thing for him? What sorts of different kinks is Xiaojun into?

But you don’t ask because you realize in that moment that you don’t care. This is why you’d ended your friends with benefits relationship the first time around. The sex was generally good and fun, but there were some differences in what you wanted to try out even that first time around. You’d forgotten that.

“It’s fine, Xiaojun. You can leave.” Your words are maybe a little too cold and dismissive, but Xiaojun doesn’t react in any way other than simply walking away, leaving you there around the dark corner of the building.

You sigh and press your shoulders back against the stone. It’s still slightly warm from the sunlight earlier, though the night air is still sharp against your exposed skin. You don’t care that you’re alone. Maybe you’ll just stand right here and get yourself off. Your clit is swollen, pussy throbbing with need, so all it takes is just that thought that you could get yourself off right here, and your hand is already drifting in that direction.

Your skirt is hiked up around your hips now, and your fingers visibly disappear down the front of your panties. You don’t care what you look like right now with your head tipped back against the wall, the motion of your arm and fingers making it very obvious what you’re doing if anyone were to look this way. You’re playing with your clit, dipping your fingers back to your slit to gather up your wetness, slicking your fingers between the folds and just teasing yourself.

The thin strap of your dress slips down over the curve of your right shoulder. You rock your hips forward against the slide of your fingers.

You’ve never done anything like this before. The closest you’ve gotten was masturbating at your apartment when your bed was in front of the window, but your window didn’t face any neighbors, just a solid, windowless wall of the building next door. Tonight you’re horny and feeling risky and adventurous. Thus, the semi-public masturbation.

Just around the corner, you can hear people talking and laughing.

You lift your free hand to your chest, palming the curve of your breast, and with the other hand, you finally give your pussy what she really wants. If you can’t have Xiaojun’s fingers, you’ll certainly settle for your own.

There’s not a free hand left to cover your mouth to hide your gasps and small whimpers of pleasure. You bite your lip, but that only works so well as you finger yourself and imagine that it was someone else, or imagine that someone is hiding in those bushes a few feet away watching you, touching himself as he watches you edge yourself closer and closer to orgasm.

That thought makes your pussy pulse hungrily, your breath coming out sharply. You want to pull your dress down, bare your tits so you can touch them properly. You wish Xiaojun hadn’t left you because you would get him down on the ground right now so you could ride him, feel the night air on your skin under the not-so-distant glow of the nearest bonfire. So you do squat down right there beside the building, spreading your legs a bit so you can get a better angle with your fingers buried in your pussy.

“Fuck,” you moan under your breath. Your ankles wobble, and you lose your balance, flopping down onto your ass, your shoulders come to rest against the wall, but you don’t stop what you’re doing.

You don’t stop until you feel your orgasm mounting, you don’t stop until it is coursing through you, your head tipped back against the wall, heart pounding, pleasure curling your toes and flushing your skin with sweet heat to combat the night’s chill.

You gasp then sigh, catching your breath as you slide your fingers out of your panties. You wipe your hand on the grass, drag your dress back down to cover you, and you take a moment to just come back to yourself. You can feel the heat settling under your skin, your panties sticking wet against your pussy lips. Exhilaration at having just done that makes it all the more enjoyable.

You liked that a lot.

Getting off in public.

A branch cracks underfoot nearby, and you look up.

A police officer is walking across the lawn from the closest bonfire, making for you. He freezes when you get to your feet, then he takes a few wary steps closer.

When he’s close enough, you realize who the officer is.

“Haechan?”

He pulls a cocky grin onto his face. “Yes, angel?”

You flutter your hands over your dress, making sure it’s all properly pulled back into place.

Haechan cocks his head a little to the side. “What’re you doing way over here? By yourself?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Just needed a moment to breathe.”

“Are you alright?” The look of amusement on his face fades, replaced with one of concern.

“I’m fine. I promise.” Truly, you’re more than fine after an orgasm like that. “Xiaojun asked me to come with him tonight and I think he’s thinking of this more as a date than just us casually hanging out. I needed a little space from him.”

Haechan watches you, his gaze running over your face and your posture, and you feel like he’s picking you apart, but you’re not exactly sure what it is that he’s seeing. After a moment he just looks away, back over his shoulder to scan the lawn. When his gaze returns to you, he’s back to wearing his cocky expression, “Well, I’m looking for a naughty schoolgirl. Have you seen one come by here?”

Not recently, but you saw one earlier tonight. You vaguely recognized her as a friend of Mark’s. She’d come around the group a few times, but she wasn’t a regular.

“Why are you looking for her?” You ask.

Haechan just grins. “Oh, you know how naughty schoolgirls are. I’m just doing my job as a truancy officer, looking for her to punish her.”

You roll your eyes and walk around him, making it only a few steps back towards the light of the front of the building when Haechan’s hand closes around your wrist.

“What were you doing over there, little angel? Your ass is covered in dirt.” He laughs, and you halfway twist around to look down. Sure enough, the butt of your white dress has dirt on it, but you can’t really reach it very well. Haechan offers, “Do you want some help?”

The moment that his hand touches your ass, patting to remove the dirt which puffs away in small clouds, you feel your core reignite with hunger. Haechan’s hand comes down again, a light pat that you wish was a bit harder, though at the same time, you’re grateful it’s not any harder or else you would probably moan aloud. As it is, your face feels very warm when Haechan finally takes a step around you.

“There,” he says proudly, “All better. But your halo is a little crooked too.”

He reaches up, readjusting your halo. You take the moment to look at him, to stare at his handsome face, so light with amusement right now. And then he lays a hand on top of your head, right beneath the halo, and his gaze lowers to yours.

“You make a good angel. Perfect and innocent as you are.” Haechan smiles, a real soft smile.

“I’m not innocent,” you immediately shoot back.

He shrugs a little. His fingers pet your hair a bit before he removes his hand. “Well you’re certainly no naughty devil. I’ve never heard any wild stories about you, which makes you an innocent angel in my eyes.”

You frown.

Haechan just smiles, then says, “Well, I have a naughty schoolgirl to look for, if you’ll excuse me.” He walks away without another look back, and you decide that you’re done for the night. You’re done with this party. You’re probably done with Xiaojun, honestly. And you definitely don’t want to hang around and find out if Haechan is going to find his naughty schoolgirl.

You take the winter break to give yourself the opportunity to put some distance between you and Xiaojun, and some distance between you and your useless crush on Haechan. Most of your friends leave campus for the break, but you hang around to work and get a little bit of a head start on the new semester. It’s your final semester, so in a few months you and most of your friends will be graduating.

You also take the winter break to explore that side of you that you’d started to see during October. The exhibitionist side.

You start small at first.

Going out with no panties, no bra just for the impropriety of it.

You test the waters by touching yourself while you drive back to your apartment from the grocery one day. You build yourself up very, very slowly. Scared of getting caught, but also thrilled with the idea of someone seeing what you’re doing and maybe them getting turned on too.

As soon as the semester resumes, you begin taking your exhibitionist thrills onto campus itself. No panties and a short skirt while you’re sitting in class or in the library, legs spread just enough that the students or even a professor could see. You rub one out in the restroom between classes a few times, and you’re almost certain that you were found out at least a couple times by others using the restroom when a moan or other such sound escapes you.

As your last semester begins to tick by, you finally begin taking more risks. Such as a picnic in the park with a guy you’d met online who seemed interested in hooking up and doing it in public. He’d fingered you while he fed you cut up fruits with the other hand, which was really more of an excuse to let you suck on his fingers to keep quiet. Just a one-off because, although you liked the experience, there was something lacking with the guy.

So you’d tried again with another – a guy that actually did see up your skirt while you were studying late one night at the library, and as soon as you noticed him keep sneaking glances, you decided to tease him. One hand slid down to tease yourself, and when he caught you watching him watching you, you’d silently invited him to join you for a quick fuck in the nearest restroom. Again, the experience was fun, but there was something missing about him.

And then one night you’re over at the rented house of several of your friends. It’s midterms, so everyone’s trying to study together for various classes, or at least trying to drink away the stress. Jeno and Haechan are studying for their Econ exam in the kitchen, taking up the majority of the space although there’s still just enough room for YangYang and Renjun to make a mess in trying to be chefs and bartenders for the rest of you.

You know that YangYang has already given up on studying for any of his midterms. Renjun already knows that he’s well-prepared. They’re just trying to make sure everyone else is having a good time. Mark, Shotaro, Jaemin, and a few of the girls are in the living room attempting to study with you, but you’re on the verge of giving up for the night. You have a bit of a buzz going on from the boozy drinks that YangYang keeps passing around, and you have a full belly from the snacks Renjun keeps making.

“Should we watch a movie instead or something?” Renjun suggests when Jaemin also complains about being bored with studying.

“Maybe we should all just go to bed.” Jaemin frowns a little as he says it, casting a look first towards his bedroom down the hallway, and then looking towards the kitchen where Haechan and Jeno have just loudly begun bickering over some Econ lesson.

Shotaro’s girlfriend leans her head on his shoulder. “I agree. I’m tired, and I have a project due early in the morning tomorrow.”

“I told you not to take such an early morning class,” Shotaro teases, slipping his arm tight around her shoulders. He puts on a cutesy tone as he asks her, “Do you want to leave, baby? Should we go?”

Gross, you think. And then you almost laugh.

You’re grossed out by their cutesy, romantic display of affection in public, and yet you’re the one with actual exhibitionist tendencies.

Jaemin disappears to bed. Shotaro and his girlfriend leave. Everyone else in the room gives up on studying to instead settle in and watch a movie. You look towards the kitchen again as you settle in comfortably between Renjun and YangYang on the sofa, lights off, movie on. Jeno and Haechan aren’t paying any attention to the rest of you; they’re still in the other room diligently studying, and you can’t help watching Haechan.

He’s clearly frustrated. The glasses he's wearing keep sliding down his nose, his hair is ruffled from him running his fingers through it. He’s pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbow. He’s wearing loose basketball shorts, and he has one foot resting on his chair with his knee bent up which has caused the leg of the shorts to bunch up, revealing so many inches of beautiful bare thigh.

You’ve been trying so hard to get over this crush you have on him, but right now you’re epically failing. All you can imagine is sitting on the floor beneath that table, licking and biting at his thighs, pulling his dick out of the shorts to suck him off while he continues studying. Give him a reward for behaving so studiously.

“Hey.”

A finger pokes your cheek.

You return to reality, and the fantasy of having Haechan’s cock in your mouth fades away. Renjun smiles at you.

“You’re not even watching the movie right now. Is Haechan really that much more interesting?” His voice is just a whisper, but it’s still loud enough that you feel a minor surge of panic. You glance around making sure that none of your other friends have heard, that Haechan couldn’t have possibly heard even though he’s all the way over there in the kitchen. Renjun laughs again, leaning closer until his lips are right against your ear. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret?” You play dumb, and Renjun just rolls his eyes. “Really, Renjun. What secret? I was just staring because, well, if I’m being honest –” Which, for the record, you’re not being honest. “ — their talking is distracting me.”

Renjun cocks an eyebrow and looks back over towards the kitchen where Jeno and Haechan are sitting in silence, poring over textbooks and notebooks and Jeno’s iPad screen. The only sound coming from them is the scratching of pens on paper.

You sigh, momentarily letting your gaze wander to Haechan’s thighs as he now brings his other leg up. The shorts on that side also slide down so both of his bare golden thighs are on clear display. Maybe you let out another day-dreamy sigh.

Renjun looks back over at you, a quick up and down. He looks like he doesn’t entirely buy your story. He snorts, “Why don’t you just admit it?”

You know exactly what he’s referring to, but you refuse to admit to him that you have a crush or whatever on Haechan. Not happening.

“I’d have to be blind to miss that horny gleam in your eye,” Renjun whispers.

The call-out feels like a wallop to your chest. You actually flinch, struggling to find the words until you eventually mumble, “It’s just been a while, okay? I’m… lonely, Renjun.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” Renjun promises.

On your other side, YangYang loudly laughs at something that happens on the screen, and you realize there’s no way that he’s paying even the slightest attention to the conversation you and Renjun are having. There’s no way that he notices as you shift yourself a little bit closer to Renjun, and Renjun doesn’t even comment on the way that you reduced the inches of space between you to now just a few centimeters. He turns his attention back to the movie without another word about you staring at Haechan or you confessing to him that you’re lonely.

You try to watch the movie too. You try to forget Haechan with his beautiful thighs sitting right over there in the kitchen, try to forget the way that in the brief fantasy you’d allowed yourself, you’d somehow made yourself very horny. You try so hard to suppress that horniness, and it works for a little while as you get sucked into the movie.

But then a sex scene comes on.

The atmosphere in the room changes slightly.

You shift a little – bunching your hands up in the blanket that covers your lap, you move your legs, shift your weight trying to get a little more comfortable.

Renjun’s hand lands on your thigh. “Settle down,” he murmurs out of the corner of his mouth.

You look over at him. The way he’s not even looking at you, but still watching the scene playing out on the screen. Then your gaze slides down his arm to the place where his hand disappears beneath your blanket, to the lump beneath the blanket that is his hand on your thigh. Renjun seems to notice your gaze suddenly, and he begins to remove his hand.

His head snaps around towards you the moment that your hand covers his, keeping his palm flat against your thigh. You make eye contact, and his lips part slightly. His eyes dip down to your lap before sweeping around the room to make sure that no one is looking, and then his eyes settle on your face.

You nod, squeeze his hand.

YangYang sits just half a foot away from you on your left side. Blissfully unaware as Renjun’s hand begins inching up your thigh, as his fingers trace along the center seam of the athletic shorts you’d worn over here tonight. On the small loveseat perpendicular to your sofa, Mark and one of the other girls sit entirely oblivious even when Renjun lets out a tiny gasp of surprise when his fingers dip inside your shorts and find that you’d foregone panties tonight. The other two girls are stretched out on their bellies on the floor, and they don’t have any clue that you spread your legs a little wider, casually draping one over Renjun’s leg to open yourself up for him to touch you in the presence of all of your gathered friends.

You can’t believe Renjun is doing this. Yeah, you’ve heard a couple stories about him, but nothing like this. Just a few tales about him, but none of the handful of stories had mentioned him having any interest in anything like this.

His eyes shine in the light coming from the screen when you reach a hand of reciprocation over into his lap. Unlike you, Renjun is wearing underwear, but that doesn’t get in your way too much. Soon you have him in your hand, and he’s circling his fingers at your clit.

You both touch each other, taking it slow and building up that tension and heat. You want to keep it unnoticeable, but also you feel a zing of excitement when you think about YangYang beside you or your friends on the floor or the other sofa. Of course, it’s when you think about Haechan looking over from the kitchen that your body buzzes a little more extremely. You imagine him looking this way and seeing the way that you’re leaning your head on Renjun’s shoulder now, staring at the movie playing on the screen without really seeing it; him noticing Renjun’s hand disappearing beneath your blanket, noticing your leg draped over Renjun’s, noticing the way that you’re both moving your arms slightly, both a little flushed in the face, lips parted and eyes glazed.

It’s that thought of Haechan looking over, seeing everything and knowing what you’re doing, him getting hard and watching because he’s a pervert like that. That is what makes you cum around Renjun’s fingers. Your thighs snap shut around his hand, and it’s only by nearly biting through your lip and through sheer will that you keep from moaning.

Renjun keeps his fingers moving, stroking that soft spot inside you that makes your belly tingle even more. You can feel the way that your pussy is dripping around his fingers, and as soon as your thighs relax around his hand, Renjun slides his hand out of your pants, out from beneath the blanket.

His fingers shine with your wetness, and when he pulls his fingers apart, you can see your stickiness there. And then Renjun brings his fingers up to his lips. He makes direct eye contact with you as he licks his fingers, then as he stuffs them into his mouth to clean them up. You’ve halfway forgotten that you’re meant to be jerking him off as well, but his free hand drops down to cover yours on his cock, getting your hand moving again while he sucks the taste of you from his fingers.

And just like that, Renjun cums too. You can only just barely hear the sound of a slight groan escaping from around his fingers. His cum pulses sticky and warm over your hand, dripping down your fingers, slicking your palm as you smear it around his leaking tip.

Your hand is still around his cock when you lift your head from Renjun’s shoulder to touch your lips to his ear so you can whisper, “Next time, I want to ride you. Okay? Right here, like this.”

Renjun visibly swallows, his throat bobbing. “I don’t know about that.”

He reaches down, pulling your hand away from his cock, out from beneath the blanket. He doesn’t look at you, and it’s not like you really have feelings for Renjun or that you’re super attracted to him, but his rejection still stings a bit. He quickly stuffs his cock back into his pants, stands up, and heads upstairs.

Renjun doesn’t come back.

You wipe your hand clean on the back of the little throw pillow tucked on your end of the sofa. You lay down over Renjun’s abandoned spot, stretch your feet out into YangYang’s lap, which makes him frown over at you slightly. He doesn’t move your feet though, so you lay your head on the throw pillow that you just wiped Renjun’s cum on the back of, and you watch the movie.

The two girls on the floor say that they’ve got to leave when that movie ends. Mark puts on the sequel to the movie you’d just watched. Still Renjun doesn’t return. Still Haechan and Jeno study in the kitchen, conversing in low voices. Halfway through that movie, the girl sitting with Mark falls asleep, and when he carefully lifts her into his arms to carry her upstairs to his bedroom, you remember that they started officially dating recently.

YangYang moves over to the empty loveseat now that it’s empty, giving you the entire sofa to stretch out on. You fall asleep before this movie even ends, replaying the fun with Renjun, but wishing too that someday you’ll be able to sit on the sofa surrounded by friends with someone’s cock buried inside you, all of your friends none the wiser.

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a/n: she's a little bit of an experimenting exhibitionist lol, just as much a pervert as Haechan honestly, though I don't think she realizes it yet. As I said a while back when I was posting about my writing process with this series, this is definitely a slowburn that gets there eventually, like obviously if she's trying to start something with xiaojun and then with renjun it might take a minute for that burn to really get going between her and haechan, but hang in there for the ride! I hope you enjoy it!

#haechan #nct haechan #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream #nct #nct 127 #lee haechan

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devilfic · 2 years

Text

❝where two are joined, relentlessly❞

VIII. happy birthday, mr. wayne.

parts: previously / next plot: celebrating the birthday boy is hard when he doesn’t want to be celebrated. baby steps. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: romance, humor, tooth-rotting fluff, domesticity, bruce wayne is a taurus agenda. words: 4.7k.

a/n: I’ve proofread this once and I think I caught everything. lord help me if I haven’t

May, last year.

The lack of ornamentation should have been your first and biggest clue as to where Bruce Wayne might be today, though you still ask, “Where’s the birthday boy?”

You’d expected the penthouse to be wrought with decorations the minute you arrived, baubles and flowers and desserts being set up around the house for the occasion. Alfred, of course, hadn’t warned you of any such plans before you left work yesterday. You’d just... assumed.

Dressed in his usual attire (not even donning a chocolate covered apron!), Alfred laughs for barely a second, “Hiding away from people who call him ‘the birthday boy’. And what in the world have you got in your hands?”

You roll the piece of ceramic in between your hands with concern, more aware of the lopsided handle than before. You’d worked the thing into the best mug shape your novice hands could manage, carved a “W” on both sides, painted it black and gold, and hoped for the best, “It’s... a mug. Bruce’s present.”

When Alfred comes closer to give it a look, you nearly shy away with it. You’d hoped that if there was going to be a party, no matter how small, your gift wouldn’t draw too much attention to itself, but seeing as there would be no party, every mistake in the cup felt painfully obvious. Alfred takes it from you anyway, examining it with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. You wait with bated breath for the verdict.

Holding up your mug to the light, Alfred nods once, approving, “I’m sure Master Bruce will love it. I’ll make sure to relay his gratitude tomorrow morning.”

You watch Alfred make off with your mug for all of five seconds before you start skittering after him, looking around for any sign of the billionaire in question. The house is just as quiet as it always is when you arrive bright and early, and while it had been made clear to you that you’d rarely ever see Bruce while the sun still shined, you’d been lucky every once in a while. A dark figure hurrying from the kitchen to the stairs here, the noise of someone coming up the elevator on the second floor there. You’d been told that particular elevator was off limits before, its destination meant to stay a secret between the inhabitants of the tower, and you wondered if he was down there this very moment.

“Wait, tomorrow? Will he not be here today?”

“No, I’m afraid not. He’ll be busy with work elsewhere.”

“He didn’t take the day off? It’s his birthday.”

“He hasn’t for a while,” you think the butler sounds disheartened about that, “it’s just another day of the year. Same with holidays. It’s really nothing to fret about. Master Bruce finds more enjoyment in his work than he would throwing a big, unnecessary fuss. Trust me.”

You suppose you have no right to be sad about that. Everyone was different, after all. It was like any other holiday. It wasn’t unusual for some not to celebrate Christmas, or Thanksgiving, or the Fourth of July. “For a while” just left you wondering when he’d finally decided to stop. You could come up with a million reasons why if left to your own devices.

Instead, you roll with it in spite of your disappointment, “Well, I would’ve really liked to give it to him in person, but I understand. Not a total loss.”

Alfred hesitates setting your mug down on the breakfast table then. The butler casts a scheming side-glance at you, “...If your heart is that set on it, he will be here tomorrow.” When you perk up, Alfred pivots away from the table, placing your mug back into your hands. “Stay late enough and you’ll catch him. Might even be in a better mood.”

The idea is genius. You thank Alfred and put the mug into your bag, careful not to crush it. Maybe you’d get him a card on the way home too. Something to make up for the mortification of your mug being perceived.

Your drive to the convenience store around the corner is a short one, and you quickly head inside to grab a few of the only warm, “fresh” foods they offer and a birthday card from the funny section (something silly, something that won’t end with your prompt termination). You spend such an unnecessary amount of time next to the greeting cards that an employee eventually flags you down to figure out if you need any help.

It isn’t long after that you find you’re not quite ready to go home yet.

There isn’t much waiting for you there, anyway. Due to constant complications, your mother was back to an extended stay at Gotham General, leaving you alone in the apartment. You never enjoyed being alone there while she worked late, but you enjoyed it even less when she couldn’t return at all. Everything was louder in that tiny apartment without her presence to fill it up. You can’t return to the tower, though, no matter how badly you’d like to be sharing stories with Alfred over tea right now.

You consider Robinson Park, though the later hour warns of danger you could do with avoiding. Next, you consider the public library, but it wouldn’t be open much longer. You didn’t often yearn for the simple safety of other cities, but if you could post up on a street corner and be unbothered, you’d jump at the chance.

While in the midst of your contemplation, you follow the road, succumbing to muscle memory. You hadn’t gone this way in years, yet the twists and turns of the city come back to you like second nature, a guiding light in the gritty darkness until you’re pulling up to a building you hadn’t visited since college graduation.

Once upon a time, when you were still a teenager looking for places to get away from it all, your friend would invite you to the rooftop of her apartment building to watch cars pass by. She’d officially moved from Gotham after college for the west coast, but you’d never forgotten that the door to the rooftop had a funky hinge. The landlord thought as long as people gave up on the first tug, they’d think the thing was locked and wouldn’t budge it further. You, on the other hand, knew better.

It doesn’t take much. One of the tenants buzzes you in and up the seven flights of stairs you hike. The door comes open as easily as it did the last time you tried years ago.

You’re not very high above the city like this, though the drop from the ledge is no less terrifying to behold and the view no less stunning. Most people in Gotham had grown desensitized to the little things like this. With the rampant crime, finding beauty despite it all was like finding a needle in a haystack. Even for you, with your well of positivity that struggled to run dry, you found it hard to see the beauty in it sometimes.

But there’s beauty even in the ugly parts of the city. For as much violence that bled through the streets, there was just as much humanity that walked them. Families, lovers, people just like you. You couldn’t hate Gotham when you could see that humanity, not really.

You take in lungfuls of air, sweeping your gaze from the graffitied bridge a few blocks down to the inner city skyline, and from the inner city to-

It’s a bit like making eye contact with a stray cat.

You’d seen him on TV, sometimes in copies of the Gotham Gazette at newsstands, but never in person. He was a bit like a child’s tale, a playground legend: your friend’s cousin’s girlfriend would see him, perhaps saved by him if the storyteller was really bold, and you’d go around telling everyone who’d listen that you’d seen the Batman too.

No one could keep the story straight when asked too many questions, but that was the excitement of Gotham’s very own, living boogeyman. One would simply hope to never see him for the wrong reasons. You hoped you weren’t seeing him for the wrong reason.

He’s perched on the ledge only a feet away from you, hard to make out against the dark night sky if you aren’t paying attention. When you put together that you are looking at a face and not some vague, black shape, you freeze up and wait to see if he’ll make the first move. If he thought you were a threat, you’d be taken care of by now... right?

You both hold each other’s gaze for a few minutes, both perhaps waiting for the other to run first. Neither of you ever do.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing that comes to mind, though you aren’t sure why. It was as much his rooftop as it was yours, “I didn’t know anyone was up here.”

The Batman is too far away for you to make out what he’s thinking by his eyes alone, though you get the feeling that he’s not sure how to respond. He wasn’t alone in that.

What were you even supposed to say? Or do? All those stories were action-packed with nary a dull moment to breathe. None of them could have prepared you for his eerie stillness. When meeting the Batman in a friend’s cousin’s girlfriend’s fantasy, he’s usually a lot more animated.

Leaving him alone and going home sounds like the next best course of action for you. Of course, you do the opposite, “Are you busy?”

“No.”

You shift back at the sound of his voice, feeling more out of place by the second. You knew this rooftop by every square inch, and yet you might as well have never stepped foot in this city at all when standing in his presence.

You clutch your bag to your side tighter. “Do you... need me to leave?”

The Batman pauses then, never looking away from you, “No.”

Was he... giving you permission? Perhaps he was the one who’d leave, leaping away into the night to find another perch to do whatever it was vigilantes did in this city. The thought that he’d leave so soon left you oddly disappointed.

But he doesn’t move. Save for turning to watch the city, the Batman pays you very little mind. You fail at the same task even as you fish out Bruce’s birthday card, hoping to distract yourself with writing your appropriately heartfelt message, body rigid and fingers struggling to loosen enough to hold your pen. No words come out of you when your heart beats out of tune. You don’t know how to be normal when he’s so close by.

You’d come up here to be alone, but had he?

Your pen hovers over the blank inside of the card, ink tip drying in the wind, but no words are coming to you with your mind a stone’s throw away from you.

It’s not clear that he’s side-eyeing you, but you feel like he’s side-eyeing you. Surprisingly, it’s him who breaks the unsteady silence, “Special occasion?”

You have to reel your brain back to your body to answer him. He continues to survey the landscape even though his question is very clearly directed at you, and you wonder at what point during your attempt at appearing unbothered had he looked over at the card in your hands. You’re grateful you’re not under his scrutiny for the time being, “Oh, yeah. It’s a card for my boss. It’s his birthday today.” And then, as if his totally normal silence deemed your explanation unsatisfactory, you continue, “He was working all day today, so I thought I’d give it to him later.”

This time, the Batman turns his head fully toward you. Had you given too much information? Annoyed him, maybe? You make out the small shift of his eyes from your own down to the card in your hand, and you hold it facing him to give him a better look, scooting closer. “And you came up here to write it?”

“Rooftops are peaceful. One of the perks of living in a city like Gotham.” You don’t want to say outright that you don’t belong up here. While you were sure the vigilante had far more pressing matters to handle than harmless breaking and entering, you really don’t want to fuck around and find out. “Is this a usual surveillance point of yours?”

You’re surprised he lets you ask, and even more surprised when he provides an honest answer, “One of them.”

You’d always imagined that the Batman was a shadow, slinking about in the night from empty doorways to streets less travelled by, an all-seeing eye for Gotham. There was a magical aspect to it all, but seeing him here now, tangible, made him appear more man than shadow. He was still shrouded in mystery, but that distance probably kept petty criminals home some nights. Even you had wondered if there’d come a day that all-seeing eye of Gotham would turn to you.

That’s why talking to him now, you could hardly stand to be looked at for too long. Had it not been for the cut of his cowl leaving his very human jaw exposed to you, he might’ve appeared to you more like an omniscient phantom. What did he think when he looked at you? What did he know?

Of course, you know better than to keep going down that road. You were talking to the Batman for Pete’s sake. You could do better than waste an opportunity. “Batman? You said you weren’t busy, right? Can I ask for your opinion on something?”

He stares at you, practically unblinking. You take that as a sign (perhaps not a good one, but a sign nonetheless) to keep going. Putting away your card, you remove Bruce’s present from your bag and present it to the Batman, hands trembling a bit as he inspects it in the city light. His eyes glide up from the mug to you, inquiring.

“I-It’s a mug. I made it. I just... I just wanted a second opinion on it. My... superior said that my boss would love it, but I think he was just trying not to hurt my feelings... but you’re a neutral party. You know?” The more you explain, the more stupid you feel. Who were you, asking the Batman of all people to evaluate your rookie pottery skills? So much for not wasting an opportunity.

But you hope that you’re earnest enough to warrant an answer anyway. If he was truly annoyed with you, he could jump away at a moment’s notice and find another rooftop to survey from. It was his fault he didn’t turn you away earlier when you gave him the chance.

You nearly drop the thing when he reaches for it, cautiously taking the cup into one gloved hand and bringing it closer to his eye. He turns it this way and that, genuine as he looks over every detail. You’re hyperaware of all the blemishes, awaiting a scathing review that would send you back to that pottery class on tomorrow’s lunch break to fix your mess.

Instead of that, the Batman hands it back to you. You hold the mug between both palms awaiting his judgment. “Why make it?”

You blink, “I’m sorry?”

“You could have bought something like this. They sell them a dime a dozen at every gift shop in town.”

Well, you knew that. You’d seen them while perusing the shelves for something he might like. With every option, you’d come back to the same depressing conclusion: “There’s nothing I can buy him that he couldn’t buy better, so I thought I’d make him something he couldn’t find anywhere else. I mean, where else is he gonna find a mug with a lopsided handle and his family’s insignia carved on the side-”

“Not a lot of families in Gotham with insignias these days.”

Shoot. Was that bad? You couldn’t recall hearing if the Batman had something against the Waynes. You surely hoped not. “...I don’t work for Bruce Wayne if that’s what you’re thinking.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the Batman was... amused by that. “Of course not.” You hug the mug to your chest, worrying the inside of your cheek between your teeth. “He’ll like it. And I can promise you that I don’t care about your feelings.”

You breathe a laugh, and while the Batman doesn’t return it, you can tell he’s pleased you got the joke.

His head snaps up to the sky a moment later. Following his line of sight, you spot a familiar circle of light piercing through the clouds from further into the city. It wasn’t uncommon to see it light up every once in a while, though its unwavering position in the sky was peculiar; it never swiveled or flashed. Most searchlights were beacons of the nightlife drawing Gotham citizens to every club in the city. This one... well, who knew?

Your companion shifts and leans toward the light. “You should head home. Keep off the streets tonight.”

“Oh, do you have to go?” You start, twisting around to put the mug back in your bag, “Thank you for the...”

When you turn back, all that’s left of the Bat is the rush of air from his departure. You lean over the ledge to see if he’d jumped straight down, but you can’t make out anything besides the usual pedestrians. You shiver.

Despite never accomplishing your intended task, you follow orders to a T. You push the rooftop door back into place to ward off any ne’er-do-wells and lock your car doors when you get back inside. On the drive back home, your hands jitter around the steering wheel, and at every stoplight, you think about his eyes. Had the light been any better up on that rooftop, you might’ve even found out what color they were. You wouldn’t rat him out. You’d just like to know.

It’s evening when he begins to show. You’re busying yourself with extra paperwork to justify your business being there past work hours and Alfred entertains you, assuring you that you wouldn’t have to wait much longer. With each second that ticks past six o’clock, your jaw clenches that much tighter.

“Ah, there he is,” Alfred stands to his full height beside you, drawing your attention to the second floor where the mysterious, forbidden elevator rattles up the shaft, “knew he’d make an appearance eventually.”

The first conversation you’d had with Bruce Wayne was the day you were hired. He’d sat across from you at a conference table six stories below the penthouse with Alfred at the head of the table and your former boss sat beside you. While you all discussed when you’d start, what to expect, and getting your access upgraded, Bruce Wayne had kept his eyes low and nodded along, never uttering more than a few words at a time.

He’d been terrifying back then, the scariest man you’d ever met, and when he did look at you, you might as well have been strapped to your seat. At the end of the meeting, you’d all shaken hands to part ways. When you’d reached for Bruce’s hand, he’d given you a long, hard look that you’d mistaken then as threatening (you could laugh now, thinking about it), and told you that he’d “be looking forward to working with you”.

You felt the same way only five months later, waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

“Alfred, I’ll be out late-”

“Master Bruce, we have a visitor.”

Bruce comes to a stop at the top of the stairs. There’s a towel thrown over his shoulder and if it weren’t for the sweat staining the neck of his shirt, you’d think he’d just come fresh from the shower with his hair wet at the ends.

You stand at the very foot of the stairs, trying not to let the clamminess of your palms ruin your gifts prematurely. When Bruce continues to look on, clearly looking for an answer as to why you were here so late, you take the initiative. “I don’t want to hold you for long, Mr. Wayne,” you say, climbing the stairs slowly, “I just wanted to... give you something. For your birthday. I know it was yesterday, a-and I know you don’t usually make a big thing out of birthdays, but... uh. I wanted to say thank you. For everything.” You’re two steps below Bruce when you finally come to a stop, worried that coming any closer might cease your ability to function. “I promise that was a lot less sappier than the card.”

For a few seconds, Bruce doesn’t move, and your palms start to sweat more profusely. When you look down at the mug and card extended toward him, your arms shake the longer he makes you wait. You were almost too embarrassed to look back up at him again.

Then, Bruce reaches for the mug, holding it up to inspect it. One of his fingers traces the engraved, golden “W”, not nearly as fancy as the emblem you’d traced online. “W. For Wayne.” He states rather than asks. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about the handle, it was my first time handling pottery. The instructor said it’d hold up fine, though! Perfect for Dory’s tea. Or you could put pens in it. Or a... lucky bamboo. For wealth and prosperity.” You worry the joke might be too silly, an unnecessary buffer in case he hated the mug after all.

Bruce shocks you with the tiniest of smiles, “Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.”

You return the smile, giddier than you let on. “Happy birthday, Mr. Wayne.”

May, the present.

“Took you long enough, birthday boy! The ice cream’s gonna melt. Get in here!”

“Just be glad I didn’t escape through the terminus when I had the chance,” Bruce tacks on a smile before you can protest, knowing full well it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility for him, “No one else is coming, right?”

The table is made up with minimal decoration: there’s a simple tablecloth stretched from end to end, struggling to cover the octagonal shape in full, and a pair of black and red star-shaped balloons tied to Bruce’s chair. The cake was easier to splurge on, a labor of love between both you and Alfred, baking and decoration included. It gave you both the freedom to draw a bat across the face of the cake in buttercream icing. It’s the first thing Bruce destroys by swiping his finger through it. You smack him on the shoulder as he smiles around his finger.

“Of course not. Miss Kyle didn’t return my call.” Alfred smirks.

You usher Bruce into his seat before retrieving the lighter. How you’d managed to fit so many candles on the cake without ruining the design was largely a stroke of luck, but it takes comically long for you to light them all. By the time the last candle is lit, the others are dripping wax onto the cake. “Okay, okay. Are we gonna sing?” You ask.

Dory cheers at the same time Bruce begs you not to. Naturally, you all sing.

It’s nothing pretty-sounding, though you think Dory really tries, and even though Bruce looks like he can’t wait for it to be over, he does brace it all with a smile.

“Gonna make a wish?” You ask, bending at the waist until your face is beside his.

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He seems to really consider it, and after a moment or two passes, he leans forward and blows out the candles in one fell swoop.

The cake is passed out in even slices around the table courtesy of Alfred, followed by gifts. Alfred presents Bruce with a new watch, Dory gifts him a guitar pick, and you hand him off a new sketchbook. “To draw me more” You joke, watching him go rosy.

By the time the small party has come to an end, Bruce is following you out to the balcony, spooning ice cream out of his mug with soap suds still dripping down his arms from clean up. “I can’t believe you still have that thing.” You remark, the garish, gold “W” glaring back at you in his hand.

“Did you think I was going to throw it out of the window or something?”

“Well, no, but... it was kind of embarrassing giving you that. I thought you were just being polite when you took it from me.”

Bruce leans his elbows on the fence and you do the same, “I know I said I didn’t care about your feelings, but I didn’t really mean it.”

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I still can’t believe I showed that stupid thing to Batman.”

“It’s not stupid,” You peek between your fingers at him, mortification no doubt seeping through, “I’ll have you know this mug is on weekly dishwasher rotation.”

That explained a bit of the paint fading. Your heart quietly swells at the thought that your little piece of misshapen pottery was so well-loved. It’s enough to shut up your self-deprecation. “Did you enjoy your party, birthday boy?”

“I did. I enjoyed it even more because it wasn’t a surprise.”

“’Course not! Baby steps, Wayne, baby steps.” You giggle, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Bruce gets a silly smile on his face peeking down at your lips. Setting his now empty mug on the patio table, Bruce brings you close by the waist and lays a kiss on your mouth, lips still turned up at the corners. It was new, this featherlight repose that Bruce carried around the tower these days. He wasn’t without his dark days, and those days got particularly dark, but you weren’t the only one who’d noticed that there was a change in him. It was a gradual difference; no flip was switched, but things that lasted usually took time.

Bruce wasn’t healed of it all, but his shoulders seemed a little lighter.

You drag Bruce’s bottom lip between both of your own before speaking again, “You taste like ice cream.”

“Sorry.” He whispers, not at all apologetic as he chases your mouth. He’s able to get in one more kiss before something shines in your peripheral.

You’re the first to break away, a little disappointed as you recognize light carving a bat into the clouds: the Batman’s insignia. Bruce seems just as disappointed, though you know he won’t be for long. This is where he thrived, after all.

You release your grip on Bruce, nodding to the balcony doors, “Don’t keep Gordon waiting, handsome.”

“Will you help me get ready?”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Taking his hand, Bruce leads you to the terminus elevator, letting it lead you both down and into the cave. It had become routine enough for you to know where to go and what to do first. The paint is your most important task, though you help Bruce slip on his utility belt and gloves.

With one foot propped on his desk chair, Bruce laces up his boots while you gently apply the paint around his eyes, always careful not to poke him between his lashes. A gentle tap on his cheek has him turning for better access.

The second you give him the OK, Bruce bends forward and allows you to slip his cowl on after you’ve brushed his hair back (he hated it getting stuck to his forehead when he was in need of a haircut). Fitting it snugly on, you lean up for him to give you one more kiss for good luck. “All set. Stay safe.”

Bruce grunts as the last dredges of his happy-go-lucky mood melts somber. He doesn’t miss out on the opportunity though, passing off the last bit of sweetness on his lips. “Don’t wait up this time.”

You smile and Bruce knows immediately that you aren’t listening to him, “Sure. Don’t be gone long.”

Neither of you expect the other to keep up their side of the bargain, but it’s the thought that counts. After all, it only made sense that you’d be there to wash off the same paint you put on, right? That was your excuse, anyway.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman imagine #the batman #battinson x reader #mjwrites

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my-brain-threw-up · 1 year

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König SFW Headcanons

Background:

Real name is Elias Beckenbauer.

He’s 29 years old and from the Innsbruck area. His birthday is November 10th, making him a Scorpio.

Has a big extended family, but he is an only child.

His parents are both teachers at a secondary school. His dad teaches biology and his mom teaches literature.

He was raised around tons of younger cousins that are like little siblings to him.

Very close with his grandma on his dad’s side because she used to babysit him a lot.

His family is nominally Catholic, but most are not practicing, including him. Still attends the odd Christmas mass if he’s home for the holidays, mostly to make grandma happy.

Gets his height from his mom’s side. His dad’s family are averagely sized.

His constant growth made him gawky for most of his adolescence.

He didn’t fill out and grow into his height until his very late teens, mostly because he started working out and eating right when he joined the military.

His parents did not initially accept his choice to join the military, wishing he would choose a safer line of work. They relented, though, and are very proud of his accomplishments.

Appearance:

He’s 6'7'' or 201 cm tall. (6'10" is not technically canon, and visually, he looks about the same height as one of my friends who is 6'6" so I rounded up)

Has very dark brown, thick hair.

Used to have long hair as a teen. Shaved it off when he joined the military. Now he lets the top grow out a bit.

Got that 90s heartthrob, Dimitri from Anastasia, middle part going on. Has an undercut to stay cool under his mask.

Freckles and sunburns easily. But he eventually tans once the burn goes away.

Keeps his face clean shaven, finds facial hair too itchy and hot.

Has a scar across the middle of his mouth from accidentally being slashed with a knife during training. The other guy felt really bad.

Had acne as a teen. It's mostly cleared up now but he gets a breakout every so often from stress. Has a few clusters of acne scars on his back.

The front of his hips have some old, faded stretch marks from his extreme growth spurts.

True to form, he's got some serious muscles. Absolute tree trunk legs.

Has kinda crooked teeth. His canines flare out slightly from his other teeth.

Wears predominately simple t-shirt and pants combos in dark colors. He does like jewelry, though. Especially rings that he can fiddle with.

Pierced ears. Wears small silver rings in them when he remembers to.

Interests:

Favorite color is forest green.

Will listen to most kinds of music, but likes metal and industrial music the most. Rammstein, Type O Negative, Deftones, and KMFDM fan.

Though he doesn’t like regular crowds, he loves concerts. The loud music and the energy of the collective excitement is somewhat regulating for him. It gets his sillies out in a place where it feels acceptable.

He prefers to be in the bleachers instead of the pit, though, since he doesn't want to block the view.

He likes to cook, mostly standard German fare he learned from grandma. Makes a very good Kaiserschmarren, since that was his favorite growing up.

Coffee over tea. Treats himself to a fancy, flavored coffee periodically.

Parents got him into skiing as a child, both downhill and cross-country. Was a member of the ski club at his secondary school. Loved that he could cover his face with goggles and a balaclava. It made him feel protected from people’s eyes.

Got into marksmanship because he wanted to ski a biathlon. He has participated in three so far, getting fourth place as his personal best.

Also tried out ice hockey as a kid, but found that he didn’t like contact sports. Still enjoys watching it, though.

Extras (mostly funny):

Very clean, but couldn't organize to save his life.

Like he doesn't let dirty clothes pile up, but babes definitely lives out of laundry baskets because he forgets to fold it.

Snorts when he laughs.

Extensive mug collection.

*slightly NSFW* Batshit feral sense of humor. Definitely owns the "Don't bully me. I'll cum," t-shirt.

Owns a weighted blanket.

Uses the :3 emoji whenever possible because he thinks it's funny.

Unbeatable at Mario Kart.

#könig #könig call of duty #mw2 #könig headcanons #fanfiction #mw2 fanfic #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #hcs #könig fanfiction #sfw

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tiannasfanfic · 2 years

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I Still Believe: Part 1

Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)

| Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: The world has been dimmer since Eddie Munson has been gone. Even your old spot out at Skull Rock has lost its charm, but you still go out there to feel close to him. Will a trip out there after dark finally help you grieve through your loss...or will it be your undoing?

Rating: Mature

Author Note: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns used, if any. Part 1 of 3. Happy Spooky Season! We're gonna throw some horror into the mix with this one! Enjoy!

CW: Horror elements (being stalked, chased, grabbed, attacked by a vampire); vampire elements (stalking prey, hunting, attacking prey, non-con feeding); marijuana use for medical purposes (anxiety, grief); Jason harassing people; Eddie being protective (and slightly Dommy if you squint).

Word Count: 3,135

One thing you and Eddie Munson always enjoyed doing together was taking walks in the woods.

At least twice a week you two would head out on foot from the trailer park to Skull Rock, smoke a joint or three, and then make out until you both had come down enough to walk back.

It was something you kept doing after he was gone, even now six months later. You didn’t get as high when you went out there by yourself, thus didn’t stay as long as a result, but you always looked forward to this little bit of time. It felt like a big part of Eddie was still there, like this is where his spirit chose to come to rest. Since there was no grave for you to mourn over, this would have to do.

“Hey sweetie,” you said, as you settled down in you and Eddie’s spot under the large rock. “Sorry I’m so late tonight, I got stuck reorganizing the western paperbacks by myself. Dave was supposed to help, but you know what trying to get help from him is like.”

You scoffed at your own words as you took your rolling supplies from your jacket pocket.

“And then, get this, the douche really had the nerve later to come over and ask me if I’d ever gotten around to-“

And on you went as you got your jointed rolled, filling Eddie in on your day as if he were sitting there with you instead of off in the next life.

While Eddie’s death hit everyone in different ways, it hit you especially hard.

Friends since fourth grade, lovers since Sophomore year and out publicly as a couple since senior year, you two were supposed to be together forever.

That was the plan, anyway.

After Eddie graduated this year, your plan had been to Sadie Hawkins the fuck out of him and ask him to marry you. You hadn’t decided how yet, but you had the ring already. It was a simple vampire skull with red stones for eyes. Nothing fancy, but it was so very Eddie.

Initially, it was supposed to be a graduation present. You’d been holding onto it for two years ever since he was supposed to walk the stage with you. But, as the months went on after graduation and now all of your time spent together was outside of school, the place where you both had to censor your relationship, the feelings between you deepened. You got closer, which you didn’t even know was possible. You were together every day after school, and you spent weekends with him and Wayne since your mom was never home. So long as you were helping Eddie study and his grades were improving (and you two were being safe together), Wayne didn’t mind. Despite being held back two more years, his grades had steadily gotten better until it was just one class holding him back.

While you two had discussed the idea of marriage at some point, both of you were in full agreement that was for way later when the two of you were old. You were still going back and forth on the idea of college but were working full time at the library in the meantime. Eddie wanted to devote his attention to the band after graduation and see where that took them. Neither of you even knew if you wanted kids ever.

But then, sometime while Eddie was on holiday break during his last senior year, you realized, why wait? You two could still do all those things married. He already supported you no matter what you wanted to do and vice versa.

Then Spring Break happened. And Eddie was gone.

You started wearing the ring you were going to give to Eddie on a chain around your neck. A few months later, you added a smaller ring to the chain when Wayne found a ring box in Eddie’s desk. Eddie had the same idea you did as it was clearly an engagement ring. The skull’s mate was a small silver ring that had a band of tiny clear stones running through the middle.

“Robin called yesterday,” you said, finally switching topics from work after you got your joint lit. “Steve’s having everyone out to his parents cabin next weekend. I might go. I don’t know though.” “It feels like everyone just keeps me around because they feel sorry for me.”

You knew that wasn’t true and regretted saying it as soon as it left your lips, even though no one was around to hear you.

You may have only met everyone after Eddie was already a wanted man, but they’d all made a big effort to become a part of your life. You counted them as some of your best friends since you all shared in a similar traumatic experience.

It was by pure chance you even stumbled onto what was really going on. You had been looking for Eddie yourself after the news broke, which ended up leading to an altercation with Jason in the parking lot of your job. They had tracked you down to question you about Eddie and you told them where they could stick their questions. It turned slightly violent when they tried to restrain you, and you had to pull the switchblade Eddie had given you in order to get away. After that, you decided you could protect your boyfriend better by keeping an eye on that asshole instead of looking for Eddie.

Tailing Jason led you to the War Zone, which led to you helping Nancy. At the time, you didn’t know who she was. You had graduated the original year Eddie should’ve and didn’t know any of them. You just saw Jason harassing some poor girl.

After you helped run Jason off, you apologized to Nancy, explaining he was gunning for your boyfriend and had jumped you too to find out where he was.

“Oh?” Nancy asked warily, her nerves still on edge. “Who’s your boyfriend?”

“Eddie Munson,” you said, and upon seeing Nancy’s eyes go wide, you took that as an expression of horror and held up a hand. “Look, I know what you’re about to say, but he did NOT kill Chrissy. He wouldn’t. We were all friends. Yeah, we weren’t close anymore, but, for fucks sake, that boy can’t even kill a spider, okay?!? I have to catch them and take them outside or else he gets sad- whoa! Hey!”

At that point, Nancy had finished paying for her weapons. She grabbed you by the wrist in a grip made of iron and started dragging you towards the front entrance and out into the parking lot. The others were coming out of the store just in time to see her shoving you, a total stranger, into the RV.

The RV where their friend, who was currently wanted for murder, was hiding.

Dustin started to yell in alarm, but Steve shushed him so he wouldn’t draw attention. While the whole thing was extremely unexpected, Steve knew Nancy wouldn’t just involve a stranger like that on a whim. He led the group in a fast walk to the RV, where he yanked the door open and barreled inside, tense, and ready for anything.

He walked in and was greeted by the sight of you and Eddie standing in the middle of the RV, arms wrapped tightly around each other and sobbing into each other’s necks. After a few minutes, you pulled back from him slightly to take his face in your hands, wiping his tears away and kissing all over his face before ending at his lips. Eddie held you to him, clinging to you for dear life as he kissed you.

There was a quick round of introductions, and Dustin was able to finally put a face to your name. Eddie had mentioned you a few times at Hellfire, but you hadn’t met any of them yet. Since they were on a time crunch, you were given a very abbreviated overview of what was going on. You were eager and ready to help…then Eddie told you no, saying he wouldn’t let you go with them.

Since RVs don’t have fans, the shit simply hit the ceiling instead.

A fight ensued that everyone else was forced to awkwardly watch. It your first ever fight as a couple. Sure, you’d argued as all couples do, especially with as long as you’d been best friends, but you had never truly fought.

Finally, with tears flowing again from both of you, Eddie gently pulled you to him and took your face in his hands. He looked into your eyes, and you could see how terrified he truly was.

“Please, baby,” he begged you, pressing his forehead to yours. “I couldn’t save her. Let me go knowing I at least saved you.”

How do you say no to that?

You don’t, that’s how.

A few minutes later, you quietly watched the RV drive away with the love of your life inside. When the RV was out of sight, you headed back to your car and went home, abandoning your tail of Jason since you promised Eddie you would.

You have regretted listening to him every day since.

Presently, it was full dark by the time you told Eddie you loved him and started heading back. It way, way later than you would normally leave. Being out in the woods by yourself wasn’t a clever idea after dark since it was easy to get lost. Coming out when it was so close to sunset hadn’t been a good idea anyway, but you weren’t about to miss the one part of your routine that kept you sane.

Right as you were about to enter the cover of the trees, you suddenly felt like you were being watched.

You turned back to look at Skull Rock. While you hadn’t heard anyone approaching, you had been lost in your thoughts and could have easily missed it. The wind picked up suddenly and whooshed through the small clearing, making it hard to hear anything else but the drying leaves rattling around. You didn’t see anyone though. You passed the whole thing off to your imagination and continued on. The feeling stopped as soon as you passed into the tree line, which seemed to confirm that it was all in your head.

However, you only gotten a handful of feet when the feeling was back.

You swallowed heavily and your heart started to pound. While earlier it hadn’t been much of a feeling, as if you had been given a once over, this time you could almost feel a pair of eyes boring into you.

And every one of your self-preservation instincts were going off.

Your guts were screaming. The hair on your body was at attention, goosebumps raised all over your skin. Your brain was sending frantic impulses to run away down into your legs, which you were fighting off. Danger or no, running blindly through the dark in the woods wasn’t a clever idea. You picked up your pace though and were soon at the edge of the trees.

As you emerged from the trees, you sped up more, not jogging, but walking very fast. You could see the trailer you shared with your mom just over a hundred feet away or so, the front door facing the woods rather than the driveway. It had been put in backwards and was never fixed, so the front door was the back door and vice versa. The only problem with this was, the improper installation had caused the rear of the trailer to settle oddly, which had caused the floor to warp. Depending on the time of year, sometimes you couldn’t get that door to open at all.

You were debating which door to go to first when a branch snapping behind you made the last of your resolve snap along with it.

The logical portion of your brain tried to reason with you for a second. It told you that there was actually nothing behind you, that you were just being paranoid. For one, you were alone at night in the woods, which your overactive imagination was having a field day with. For two, you were trying out a new strain of marijuana, which was probably causing most of this. While you normally didn’t get paranoid when you smoked your normal stuff, there was always the chance that any new strain might do that to you and your dealer had insisted you try this one, swearing it would help your anxiety better.

But try telling that to panic when it hits.

You took off for the trailer. There was no stopping your legs now.

The distance from where you were just a little beyond the tree line to the front door suddenly seemed five times as long. It was normally an easy run. You’d done it plenty of times before with Eddie chasing behind you, with him occasionally putting on a burst of speed so he could pinch you on the ass and make you go faster. But it wasn’t Eddie behind you now.

There was no doubt in your mind now that you were being chased. With each running step, you became increasingly sure of it. As your path seemed to stretch out ahead of you and time seemed to go in slow motion, you could feel a presence there. You couldn’t hear anything over your own heart pounding in your ears, your gasping breaths, and your own running feet, but there was no mistaking something was there now. All you could feel behind you was danger, and you could feel it getting closer, but you didn’t turn around to look. You didn’t dare. You focused on nothing but getting to that door in front of you.

You didn’t even try to stop running when you reached the trailer. You crashed into the door and frantically grabbed for the knob. No one was home since your mom worked nights, but the front door was never locked since the deadbolt didn’t line up with the warped doorframe anymore. Leaning away from the door, you pulled with all your strength.

It jerked opened a few inches, then wedged against a raised floorboard and wouldn’t budge.

“Fuck!” you screamed.

Letting go of the knob, you grabbed the edge of the door and tried to pull it open that way, which got you another inch of movement before it got stuck again. You slammed your fist against it and made a break for it to run around the trailer to the back door.

Right after you rounded the corner, something large slammed into you at speed from the side. It was so dark and happened so fast you didn’t have the chance to see what it was. Your body hit the side of the trailer with enough force you felt the tin wall shake behind you. All the wind was knocked from you on impact and your shoulder exploded with pain. A strong appendage quickly wrapped around your torso, pinning both of your arms to your sides. Before you could scream, a hand clapped firmly over your mouth. Long fingers gripped into your cheeks, bits of cold metal digging into your skin as your head was yanked to the side. You tried to struggle, tried to put up a fight, but whatever had a hold of you was so strong you barely managed to wiggle in its grasp.

Suddenly, pain sliced into side of your neck. You felt long, sharp teeth puncturing through your skin, sliding through the soft tissue easily. A scream rose out of your throat, blocked by the hand still covering your mouth. You squeezed your eyes closed, using one last burst of energy to struggle against your attacker. But it was no use. You were pinned against this monster. It had to be something from that place Dustin and the others told you about. The Upside Down, was it? Had to be…but you were sure now that you’d never find out.

The pain lessened slightly as you felt the teeth pull away, replaced by a mouth clamping down on your torn flesh, sending a fresh bolt of burning pain through you.

But then…you were gone.

The pain quickly shifted to a pleasurable sensation, rendering you limp in your assailants’ arms. It was beyond description, an almost euphoric relaxation that was like a combination of the high from really good weed and the high from a really good orgasm, but beyond either. All you could do was whimper as you felt the will to the fight off your attacker leave you and be replaced by wanting. That in itself should have been terrifying. The part of your brain still focused on self-preservation screamed at you in horror to do something, anything, to try to save yourself…

Then you realized you didn’t want too anymore. All of your will to fight was gone. You were well and truly fucked, and you knew it.

Tears ran down your face as your blood was drained from you. You felt yourself growing weaker by the moment.

The monster shifted its grip then, releasing your neck very quickly in order to turn you towards it, then slammed your back against the trailer. It dove right back into, squashing you against the wall as you felt the painful teeth once again in your flesh. It was quick and soon replaced by the same pleasurable relaxation.

With it holding you from the front now, your face was closer now and you could smell it. Your senses were overwhelmed with the smell of blood, sweat, dirt and something acrid, almost sour smelling that you couldn’t identify.

Your knees buckled. Your vision started fading. The only thing keeping you upright was being pinned between the weight of the monster and the side of the trailer.

As your consciousness was fading and your head fell forward onto the monster, you became aware of some very old, very vague smells hidden under the unpleasant ones. There was a hint of leather, a slight whiff of tobacco, a kiss of marijuana. And, finally, fainter than anything else, the trace of an inexpensive cologne you’d know anywhere.

Eddie.

Your heart skipped a beat in that old familiar way as memories of your lover rushed to the forefront of your mind. A slight smile came to your lips, the last of your inner panic dissolving into acceptance.

Eddie had come to you in your final moments, and you’d be with him again soon.

“Eddie,” you whispered without realizing it.

Before your vision completely faded away, the last thing you saw was a pair of glowing orange-brown eyes that seemed to widen as they looked into yours.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #vampire eddie #vampire eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #vampire!eddie #eddie munson fanfic

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elderberries-and-honey · 4 months

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i'm really, really sad that i missed simblr gratitude day due a lull in my mental health. but even though the day has passed, i still wanted to show my appreciation & give y'all the flowers you deserve.

first, i want to give a huge thank you to the cc & mod creators. the decades challenge would not be possible without your contributions to the sims community. being able to immerse myself into worlds i can only imagine is self-care. being able to imagine, to create, to play and indulge myself in this escape is an act of self-love and i can never begin to express how thankful i am to be able to do that. second, i want to share how much i love & adore my mutuals and friends i've made here. our small interactions, the notifications that remind me i am seen and not forgotten even when i'm not as active as i'd like to be, those who help me with work out the plot knots & who help me overcome my frivolous moments of perfectionism and give me the strength to just fucking post the damned thing! i value all of these equally, big or small and hold them very dear to my heart. i love that this little niche hobby has allowed me to meet so many amazing people and read so many wonderful stories and i promise, i never take that for granted. third is just anyone who creates and shares their art here. seeing everyone's creativity is inspiring for me. there are so many ways to play this damn busted-ass game and it's so cool to see that in real time. it's so easy to get discouraged when every other week there's a new patch, controversy or huge terrifying bug (i have trauma from high school years i stg ;~;) but your creations are what keeps me coming back. and fourth, but certainly not least, to my readers. ever since i was little, writing has always been my favorite hobby. i'm not patient enough for coding or in-depth editing, my hands shake too much for art & my brain does not compute math whatsoever. so writing has been my go to avenue for self expression and creativity. any question, any ask or tag game, that has come my way, fuels my love for these characters and my passion for writing. sometimes the internet feels like shouting into a void but knowing my efforts to craft a cohesive story aren't entirely pointless means so much to me.

i know i'm a day(s) late but hopefully not a dollar short when i say thank you. from the bottom my heart, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU. thank you for reading, thank you for your passion, thank you for your creations, thank you for your endless kindness & patience.

i wish everyone a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY HOLIDAYS & i can't wait to come back refreshed in the new year!

happy simming! 💚

#i'll probably tag people in the tzr later on <3 #but for now you know who are!

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canirove · 1 year

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Red & Blue | Chapter 42

Author’s note: And we've made it to the end!

I never imagined that this story would be read and liked by so many people, so thank you very much everyone. It means a lot 💜

See you very soon with more Mason 😏

Previous chapter

Masterlist

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Happy to be back home?" Mason asks me as the plane gets closer to the airport.

"Yes... and no. Yes because I miss Nora, and no because doing nothing and just enjoying the sun after a few chaotic weeks getting everything ready for the wedding has been great."

"It has, hasn't it?" he sighs. "But look at us, finally enjoying a holiday on a remote island where the only thing you can do is relax. Maybe we should get married every summer."

"I think I’ll pass. Too stressful."

“But maybe a trip to celebrate like our 5th anniversary? Just you and I, on our room with an amazing view of the beach, not wearing clothes for a week...”

“If I wasn’t so tired, I would ask you to save that thought for when we make it home” I say.

“I’ll try to remember it tomorrow, then.”

“Ok” I giggle.

“Ok” he says, leaning forward and kissing me.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Mason" I say while grabbing him by the arm, making him stop walking in the middle of the airport’s corridor and almost trip with his suitcase.

"What happened?"

"Look" I say, showing him my phone.

"Forgot to mark your period?" he reads. "What does that mean?"

"I should have gotten my period while we were away. But I didn't."

"Your... Oh."

"Oh" I repeat.

"So do you think..."

"I don't know. But it could be. We stopped being careful just before the wedding, the dates match."

"Ok... So what do we do now?"

"Find the closest pharmacy and buy a test."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"This is horrible" Mason says, pacing around our room. The moment we got home, I took the test. We needed to know.

"Now you know what I felt four years ago” I chuckle.

"How much longer?"

"A minute."

"A minute" he says, letting himself fall on the bed. "Have you felt anything different? Like, similar to what you felt with Nora?"

"Nothing. You?"

"Me?"

"My boobs, I mean."

"Oh, them. They look and feel the same" he shrugs.

"Maybe it is just a false alarm. Maybe I'm just late because of the traveling and the stress. It has happened before and..."

“Yeah… When I said I have good aim, I was joking. I can’t be that good, can… Fuck! Shit!” Mason screams when the alarm starts sounding.

"It’s time. Are you ready?" I say, sitting down on the bed next to him.

"No" he chuckles. "You?"

"I actually am, yes."

"Then you should do the honours."

"Here we go..." I say, turning the test so we can see the result.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"We have a theory" Declan says while helping me with the drinks.

"We?"

"Me and the others.”

“About what?" I ask.

"About these parties you throw where you invite just us."

"It's not a party, it's a gathering."

"Whatever" he says. "But the first time you threw one, it was to celebrate that you and Mason had moved in together. The second one, because you were leaving. The third one, to tell us that you were pregnant. Fourth one, when you got engaged. And fifth one, when you retired. So we think that today you are also telling us something."

"Something like what?"

"That you are pregnant again.”

"Maybe I am, maybe I am not” I shrug.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“See? We knew it!” Declan screams after we’ve shared the news with them.

“I can’t believe you hide it from me. Me!” Leah says.

“This time we wanted it to be a surprise for everyone, you included” I say.

“Have they told you yet if it is a boy or a girl?” Ben asks.

“It’s… both” Mason says.

“Both? What does that mean?” Aaron asks, everyone else looking as confused as he does.

“It means that there are two babies. She is pregnant with twins” Benjamin says, everyone now turning to look at him, and then at us again.

“Mount, what did you do?” Leah screams.

“Same as always. I think. We didn’t try anything new, did we?”

“Shut up” I say, hitting him with a pillow. “But yes, I’m having twins. A boy and a girl. Turns out that it can just happen even if there are no other cases on your family.”

“Oh, my God…” Leah says, sinking into the sofa.

“Are we getting a little Mason, then?” Ben asks.

“She’s already told me we aren’t calling him after me. So if you have boys names suggestions that aren’t your own…”

“Wait, wait, wait” Declan says. “If there are two babies… Does it mean that this time I get to be a godfather?”

“If that’s what you want, yes” I say. “You too, Aaron.”

“Of course!” he says. “Boy or girl, Rice?”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

━━━━❃━━━━ FIN ━━━━❃━━━━

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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leighlew3 · 5 months

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Friendly neighborhood blob here again. I'm not from the US. So I have no real clue what Thanksgiving is about 🙊. But I do understand holidays get complicated when you're going through what you're going through. I've been through something like that a couple years back and I remember a very dull and sad Christmas. Just here to say much love 💜. I hope you're taking care of yourself. And I hope you're having a good time with your cats and your work and everything, all things considered. I hope you get at least some sense of momentary peace among all the craziness. Take care Leigh.

PS : The tattoos are cool.

Thank you so much for your kindness. 💜

It’s true, the holidays have been especially hard. But it’s to be expected, I suppose. And I’ve been working with my therapist on all of this because the first holidays (or any holidays and special days but especially these first ones) after losing the most important person in your entire life can definitely f*ck you up. Grief is truly a b*tch.

I was actually doing adequately “ok” lately but then all last week and these days leading up to Thanksgiving, I was crying every single day, missing Mom. But when I spoke to my therapist about it because I felt frustrated and like I was going backwards to a worse time or whatever, she made the great point to me that you can’t look at those things as a setback. That all of this is like a journey and it’s going to be up and down but just because the darkness hits again doesn’t mean that you’ve reverted back or that you’re getting worse or that you’re not making progress with the grief. If anything, the fact that you can have those really dark moments again, but still keep going and not crumble and not slip into self harm or whatever else… shows progress overall. So, yeah it truly is a process. I tend to be somebody who likes results and to fix things, etc. And tbh, I foolishly viewed grief as if it was something to conquer, and then move on from. But the reality is there’s not really any getting past it entirely. It’s always there. The pain of loss, missing somebody… it’s always there. Just like trauma. You just learn how to live with it more and more over time.

Anyway, I got to spend Thanksgiving with my nephews and some friends/found family. I may not have hardly any family anymore, and I actually have no immediate family anymore, but I have a lot of people in my life that are truly good human beings who truly care, and I’m super grateful to have them. And this includes random strangers to emerging friends on the Internet like yourself, who have been so kind through all of this… the community around here and on Twitter and within the fandom, etc who have given me so much love and support during the worst time in my life. I can’t even express the gratitude properly, but I’m sending a huge thanks to all. Truly.

So, yeah, I’ve just been trying to focus on my nephews, my friends, my writing and a lot of exciting things that are happening around it, and yes, my two bat crap crazy cats. 😂💜

Lastly, thanks! I waited a significant portion of my life to finally get tattoos, alas I’m glad I did because I’m really happy with them, as they turned out great and mean a lot to me…

P.S. It is very true btw that if you get one, you’re going to want more. I now have three and there’s a fourth one I’d like to get soon, and who knows beyond that. 😅

#grief #loss #holidays #mental health

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zipperrants · 3 months

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Okay first: I woke up to 47 fucking notifications are yall okay?

second: and some of you may not celebrate it but happy fat tuesday/ Mardi Gras (if you're confused about this one I only celebrate this very catholic holiday because its the only holiday that both me and my mother who have a rocky relationship already can agree about)

third: My stranger things Dr. So in this dr I am the same age as Steve and Eddie and I should mention I scripted in my cousin because she and I talk a lot and I want someone that I know from my Cr in every reality so it almost always ends up being her. Well I wasn't really involved in much until 85 when Starcourt mall happened so I had like a vague idea of what happened before. Me and Eddie we're dating at this point btw. Well flash forword to the literal only fucking thing I forgot about, Chrissy's death (more traumatic than Eddie's driving and thats horrible btw) so me and eddie leave quickly, because Holy fucking shit a girl just floated into the fucking ceiling and broke everything, so we go to "reefer ricks" btw I had never met rick Eddie said he was cool but for the most part I told him that if he was dealing drugs don't tell me so I can have deniability. Well Steve, Robin, Nancy, Dustin, and Max found us and went to the store for us and all and the only things I really needed were pads and a pregnancy test because I was 2 weeks late and thats how I found out I was pregnant with my daughter. I should mention that in this dr I am now 25 not 19 anymore so like yeah

fourth: if you do want more in detail stuff than that or have questions about any of my DRs just dm me or hit ask me anything

#shifting #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting realities #desired reality #shifters #reality shift #stranger things shifting

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sotangledupinit · 1 year

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run, run rogers - My CSSS 2021 Gift

hi there @ilovemesomekillianjones! here’s the fourth and final chapter of my @cssecretsanta2020 gift to you from last year! thank you for being so understanding and patient (still. because i am the absolute worst!).

also - this was uploaded to AO3 a few days ago, in case there’s any confusion!

run, run rogers (chapter 4 of 4)

SUMMARY: The last thing Emma Swan expected to be doing on Christmas Eve was last minute Christmas shopping. But Neal’s genius left her in the lurch, and she needs to fix things. And the Uber trip to get this all done? It’ll cost her.

RATING: T for Teen

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 5,267 words

TAGS: Captain Swan, Holiday, Uber Driver Killian Jones

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The muse did not want to cooperate for a few long months, hence the downgraded rating and lack of smut. But! I did finally get to write out my idea for the gift. My giftee @ilovemesomekillianjones is so patient and kind about the long wait so a very big shoutout to her (and a day late happy birthday as well)! if you haven’t already read this on AO3, then i hope you enjoy!

***

“Oi! Whaaaz been da hold up?”

Will’s voice is loud as he slurs his holler, taking particular delight from popping the P in ‘up’. His grin is lazy as he hangs half of his body out of the window he’s rolled down in the backseat, arms dangling against the car door. Emma shares a look with Killian, their mouths quirking up at the corner from Will’s antics, and she feels a weight lifted off of her shoulders.

Not completely, no. But Killian’s words have made her feel like she’s not a total failure. It still sucks that she can’t give her kid something completely new to open, something that isn’t what his father just copied, but she can still salvage the holiday one way or another.

When Emma approaches the car, Killian a few steps behind her, she sees the kind of state Will’s gotten himself into. He had clearly sprawled himself out on the seats, laying on his stomach. With the upper half of his body still out the car window, his legs are stretched behind him, feet resting on the door on the other side. She huffs a laugh. As annoyed as she’s been by him half the night, it’s like having a big kid around and her heart yearns for Henry.

She loves her kid and she knows he deserves to have some time with his dad, but she still wishes he was home Christmas Eve, baking cookies with her and drinking their hot chocolate while watching Home Alone and Die Hard.

She senses Killian’s presence before she feels his arm coming around her side and opening the passenger door for her. “You get to be my first mate.”

“Lucky me.” The smile Emma shoots Killian is unlike any she’s given someone in quite a long time. It’s flirty, which is no surprise, but there’s a layer of giddiness to it too. She settles herself in the seat as Killian helps Will back inside the car, a number of grunts and phrases, some of which she’s never heard but no doubt are not for the faint of heart, come from behind her seat and she stifles her laughter until Killian’s in the driver’s seat beside her again.

Her seat suddenly jerks forward and the faint smell of alcohol from Will’s breath makes its way into her personal space. She turns slightly to see his body slumped forward against the back of her seat, his chin resting beside the headrest and his eyes half open.

“I thought you were going shopping?” he mumbles to her.

“I was trying to.”

“Bollocks. Ye’ve got no shopping bags with ya.”

“Scarlet,” Killian cuts in, voice struggling on its precarious balance of amusement and frustration.

“Well yer not doing a good job then, Killian. Where’s the lady’s gifts?”

“Actually…” Her eyebrows furrow together as Killian runs his tongue along his bottom lip in deep thought. Without a word to her or Will, he throws the car in drive and sets off in the opposite direction of the address she told him.

“What are you doing?” If it had been anyone else, anyone but Killian, she’d be frightened. She’d have pulled out her mace by now and worked a means into stopping the car. Instead, she sits patiently in her seat with her head turned in his direction and the seatbelt digging into her neck.

“Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.”

“I do trust you.”

The lack of hesitation takes them both by surprise. Her mouth drops open as she struggles to build off of her statement and Killian continually glances at her from the side. After a few moments, she shrugs shyly and gives him a small smile.

Will mumbles something along the lines of ‘pathetic’ and falls back into his seat, head lolling towards the window as he views the house lights passing them by.

Never before had she said something like that to another adult with such conviction and she didn’t know how to proceed. Emma doesn’t voice her feelings, that’s not the kind of person she is. Their conversation outside of the toy store already left her feeling raw and vulnerable and her words slipped out of her mouth without any filtering. It’s as close as she can come to laying her heart bare.

Her eyes trace Killian’s tongue as it pokes out his mouth to lick his lips.

He glances at her once more before straightening in his seat, flicking on one blinker as they stop at a red light. “I can read you pretty well, love, and I know you’re still disappointed about your lad not having anything new to open tomorrow.” He shifts in his seat again as the tips of his ears begin to turn pink. “I think I have an idea to remedy that.” She practically melts as he softens his tone and finally looks at her. “If you’ll allow me to help?”

The man sitting across from her continues to amaze her.

Emma doesn’t even need to think. She nods her head and says softly, “Yes.”

They drive in silence for a few minutes, Will ooo-ing and ahhh-ing at various Christmas displays before Emma leans forward.

She smirks at Killian as she flicks the music on, an older man singing about jingle bells wafting from the speakers, her mood vastly improved from earlier. It’s not until they pull onto one of the streets on the outskirts of the city, bordering the city center and the suburbs, that she notices Will perk up in the backseat.

“No way, mate. Don’t do this to me,” he whines, suddenly acting wide awake and sober despite the sway to his positioning. Killian chuckles and shakes his head.

“Yes way. You can’t hide forever.”

“I can bloody well try. I’m not going in.”

“Then you can freeze in the car.”

“It’s fucking cold out! And snowing!”

Killian grins wide into the rearview mirror, catching Will’s eye, and lifts an eyebrow as if daring the other man to fight him. “I guess you’re coming inside then. Aye?”

Will grumbles and crosses his arms as he glares out the window until Killian comes to a stop in front of a small section of shops. It’s a part of the city she hasn’t been before. An ice cream shop, wedding store, therapist’s office, pawn shop, and a comic-book store line one side of the street with a police department – not David’s, that much she knows – across the street with a diner beside it.

Emma waits to ask until everyone is out of the car, Will huffing and puffing the entire time. Nearly all of the shops are dark and closed up for the holiday except for the comic-book store which looks to be having a work party. “Where are we?”

“At the wolf’s den,” Will says angrily, shooting a glare at Killian who only laughs in glee.

“Yeah,” Emma starts, glancing wearily between the two of them. “I’m going to need more than that.”

“Come on, love,” Killian says. His prosthetic comes to the middle of her back and she suppresses her shiver from how good his heat feels so close to her. “Trust me, remember?”

“Yes –”

“You really shouldn’t,” Will cuts in, gaze now turned towards the holiday party. “He’s a scoundrel.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian calls from her side. She leans into his chest as he turns towards Will and she pretends not to notice the way his arm slides along her waist, bringing her closer as well. “Weren’t you just trying to wing-man me an hour ago?”

Will waves the statement away. “You don’t deserve my talents. The lass can do better anyway.”

“I beg your pardon –”

“Guys,” Emma cuts in. “My kid. A present. Before midnight, please.”

They grumble at each other before Killian ushers her to the door of the comic-book shop, opening it for her as Will shrinks into his coat, shoulders raised to his ears. He rips his beanie from his pocket and forces it over his head at such an alarming speed that it nearly makes her laugh.

“Captain!” a velvety voice calls out from across the shop. “Thought you were skipping out on us tonight for the cash flow.”

Emma’s not sure what to expect from the voice. Surely, such an attractive sound belongs to an equally attractive person, but nothing could have prepared her for the gorgeous brunette that walks out of the crowd gathered at the back of the store and right towards them.

It’s been a long time since jealousy held a vicelike grip on her throat but the feeling invades the bubble she’s had with Killian all night.

The woman’s legs are shaped by tight red skinny jeans and she wears a green crop top lined with white fur. A Santa hat sits askew on her head, the perfect match for her blood red lipstick. Dark hair rests in waves down her back and her nails are painted such a deep red it could be mistaken for black. The smile she shoots their way is one Emma could imagine a predator wearing. But who was her prey?

Emma chances a glance at Killian and relaxes instantly at the feel of his prosthetic on her back again. The smile he shoots the woman looks so similar to the patient, kind grin he’d given Henry on their rides. In that brief look, she feels all jealousy shrink away. Not that she had any claim to Killian to start with, but if there’s a possibility… “Aye, but I had much more important matters to attend to. Miss Swan is in need of your expertise, Ruby.”

“Miss Swan?”

Emma struggles to find her voice for a moment, feeling as if she’s been pulled in a million different directions. All she can do is fall back on her instinct to fight. “Don’t listen to him,” she insists. “It’s Emma.”

“Aye, Emma is in need of your expertise.” The amusement in Killian’s voice is enough to earn a narrow-eyed look from her over her shoulder, his grin widening in reaction. His teasing starts to bring her back to herself and she finds breathing slightly easier than it’d been a moment ago. With a roll of her eyes, she faces their newcomer again.

“With what exactly?” Ruby inquires.

“A gift for her boy.” Emma’s cheeks heat up as Ruby’s calculating gaze bounces between herself and Killian. “He’s creative. Writes and draws his own comics. Isn’t that right, Swan?”

She nods furiously in agreement, centering herself on talk of her kid. Talking about Henry is always easy for her. Not that she’s biased or anything but he’s the greatest kid around. She tells Ruby as much. “He’s incredible. A creative genius, honestly. I don’t know how he comes up with half the stuff he does.”

“Huh,” Ruby says, eyeing Emma up and down. What the hell? She doesn’t know why but the urge to defend herself – against what, she’s not even sure – crawls up her throat.

“Huh?” Emma echoes, glancing back at Killian who narrows his gaze at Ruby.

“You’re different,” she elaborates, probing even though her sentence already feels like a statement.

“Ruby…” Killian warns. “Don’t start. Get the pages, lass.”

Ruby merely rolls her eyes and scoffs. “I meant it as a good thing.” She steps towards Emma, looping her arm through Emma’s so fast that all she can do is look at Killian with a bewildered expression. “I like her.” The smile she sends Emma’s way once she faces forward again is friendly and warm and Emma feels the feeble defenses she’d built back up at the other woman’s appearance come down again.

They near the party for a moment, a group of only a handful of people surrounded by alcohol and baked goods with a stereo in the corner playing a Kelly Clarkson song and surrounded by more of the string lights, tinsel, and mistletoe that decorates the rest of the shop.

“Killian’s idea is perfect for your kid, if he’s as creative as you say.”

“Oh, he definitely is.”

“How old is he?” Ruby tosses her a look over her shoulder out of pure curiosity. There’s no judgement to be thrown down based on her answer and Emma doesn’t even feel the urge defend herself as she answers.

“He’s 12.” Ruby grins at this and much like Killian, doesn’t question it further and accepts it for what it is.

“Then this really is perfect and I have to admit, Killian’s a genius. It’s right this way,” Ruby says. Her hand gestures to an alcove in the back corner, opposite the party. The lighting is dimmer there and it’s not as loud. Or at least it isn’t until Ruby yells back to where Killian leans against a counter by the door. “Don’t let Scarlet run away! He still owes me $500! I will get my money and if he keeps running, it won’t be pretty!”

“Fucking hell.”

Emma huffs out a laugh. She has no doubt that Will was attempting to escape out the front door or blend in with the party to avoid paying it. Killian’s chuckle drifts over to their area, confirming her suspicions.

Her eyes scan the shelves before her as Ruby detaches herself. “Stay here,” she orders and Emma shrugs. It’s not like she has any other choice.

While she waits, she continues browsing. Henry’s gotten so many comics over the years from herself, David, and Mary Margaret that she can’t even keep track of what he does and doesn’t have. The last thing she’d want is to try to get him something new only for it to be what he already has. It’s that exact line of thinking that’s gotten her into this situation.

Once she bores of that, she makes a quick perusal of the store. Garland circles the shelves and moldings, string lights hanging from the ceiling throughout the store, and mistletoe is placed throughout. Ruby had navigated the two of them through it without needing to look, clearly an expert at avoiding the tradition when not desired, but the rest of the party on the other side of the store takes glee at the catching each other underneath it.

A particularly loud cheer diverts her attention over to them, watching as two of the people gripe and groan, making a big deal over it before engaging in a short kiss amidst the cajoling party. A flash of black captures her gaze.

Killian’s made his way over to the party. He stands on the edge of it and laughs as a man in a Santa dress suit with a red velour top hat places a Santa hat on his head to match the rest of the store’s occupants. Will slinks between the other party-goers, snatching snacks from the tables around the area and grabbing a plate of lasagna someone abandoned atop a display.

She can’t stop the smile that grows on her face as Will gets slapped in the back of the head by one of the women there, her fierce attitude clear in her reprimanding as Will shrugs his shoulders and offers excuses. Killian’s shit-eating grin at the scene is hard to miss, especially as Will sighs in defeat and pulls out his wallet, and as he takes a swig of his water bottle, Killian catches her eye.

Her breath hitches in her throat and she finds it hard to swallow. It’s like there’s an electric current dancing along a wire connecting the two of them, tingling her skin beneath the surface. Her eyes follow the sight of his tongue as it sneaks between his lips to catch the water residue. He clearly swallows and when her eyes drift up his face to meet his, she sees the black of his pupils swallowing the blue coloring.

“Got it!”

Emma jumps at the sound of Ruby’s voice and turns quickly.

“Need a minute?” Ruby teases, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head in Killian’s direction. Emma swallows and shakes her head.

“Sorry, what do you have?”

Ruby takes one of her hands from behind her back and offers a Santa hat out to her. Emma eyes it, popping an eyebrow in question. “Uh, I am not giving my son a Santa hat for Christmas.”

“No, the hat’s for you.”

“I am not wearing a Santa hat. I just want to get a gift for my kid. If you can’t help out then –”

Ruby rolls her eyes and thrusts the hat towards her. “Don’t be a grinch. Have a little Christmas spirit – it won’t kill you. Wear the hat, then you’ll get the gift.”

The two of them stand in a stare-down for a few moments until Ruby smirks and tilts her head, pride already making its way onto her features before Emma even concedes.

She knows that Ruby means business. Her confident swagger nearly fills the store and Ruby knows just how desperate she is. With a frustrated sigh, Emma hastily grabs the hat from Ruby’s hand and shoves it on her head, frowning. “There. Now the gift?”

“Thanks for playing along,” Ruby begins, her voice taking on the tone of a game show host announcing the grand prize. “For that, you will receive…”

Everything else Ruby is saying fades to the background as she reveals what she’d been hiding behind her back.

Five packages of blank comic panel pages, each package representing different, commonly used templates for comic-books. There’s nearly 200 pages total in her hand and Emma could practically cry at how perfect the gift is. Her son – her incredibly brilliant and creative son can actually create his own comic with ease.

“I didn’t even know anyone made these,” she whispers in amazement, her hands gently, hesitantly, shakily, taking the packages from Ruby.

“I’m not the one you should thank.” Ruby’s smile is pointed yet gentle as she gestures over the Killian. A quick look over her shoulder and Emma sees the way he’s half listening to the conversation at his side between Will and the woman from before. Instead, he keeps trailing his eyes back over to her and even from afar, she notices the vested interest etched in the way his eyebrows lift as he watches them.

Ruby’s voice breaks her gaze.

“How did you guys meet?”

“Uh,” Emma starts before she shakes her head. “He’s my Uber driver, actually.” Ruby remains unconvinced and unsatisfied.

“Really? Just your driver?” She points her deep red nails, gesturing between Emma and Killian as their eyes catch again. “That’s what you’re going with?”

The half-shrug that comes from her lifted shoulder is sheepish. Heat rises to her cheeks and Emma feels as if she’s been transported back to middle school talking about her crush at a sleepover. Not that she did any of that, but she imagines this must have been what it felt like.

“Well… he was just my Uber driver. Now I’m not so sure.”

Ruby offers her an encouraging smile and grabs a bag from behind the counter as they leave the area. When Emma twice tries to pay, Ruby brushes her off. “My little Christmas gift to you,” she says. There’s no pity or guilt in Ruby as she says the words and Emma struggles to say anything other than a cracked thanks.

People always wanted something in return. Nothing is done for free. If someone offers you something, it’s because they want you to owe them a favor or they’re using you to assuage their own guilt.

At least, that’s the take Emma had before the start of the night.

Then Killian gave up a night of potentially heavy cash flow and became her… friend. Now Ruby is joining the ranks too, helping her make Christmas special for her kid. If she hadn’t met Killian, she’s sure her pride would’ve been a lot harder to swallow to accept such a gesture.

When they make it to the party, Ruby rushes over, pulling the hand belonging to the woman who gave Will a dressing down, and steps under the mistletoe. “Merry Christmas, Mulan,” Ruby whispers. The party start a cheer, noisemakers and chants of ‘Kiss! Kiss!’ filling the store. Emma meets Killian’s eye between Ruby and her lover and they share a grin before the kiss blocks them from each other.

Ruby eventually detaches herself from the kiss and introduces Emma to her fiancée Mulan. Between the two of them, they convince her to stay an extra half hour so she can enjoy the party.

“You can always join our poker game tonight too,” Mulan offers. Her face gives nothing away but there’s something in her voice that tugs at Emma’s warning bells.

“Babe,” Ruby says with a sigh. “We’re trying to make a good impression on Killian’s… friend. We can’t do that if you’re robbing her blind.”

“She’ll count every penny too!” Will adds around a mouthful of cheesecake. “Stole $350 from me wallet already tonight.”

“You owed me that.”

Ruby cuts in, “Wait, you paid her but you still haven’t paid me?!”

“You’re practically married, it’s all the same now!”

“Actually –”

“So,” Mulan cuts in, drowning out Will and Ruby. She compromises, eyeing Emma with a calculating gaze. The woman reminds her of a general in the army, observing the enemy and coming up with at least three strategies to ensure their defeat. “I’ll give you a month. Expect an invite. Bring enough cash not to disappoint.”

Before Emma can accept or decline the invitation – though she has no clue what answer would’ve come out of her mouth – Killian appears at her side. “Bloody hell, Ruby. I leave you to warm up my car and you’re already letting your fiancée take Emma for all she’s worth?!”

There’s no malice in his voice, just a thinly veiled teasing tone, and Emma suppresses a grin at the eye rolls and groans from his reprimand that fill their small group. “I guess that’s my cue,” Emma says instead, backing up. “You coming, Will?”

Will shakes his head. “I’m going to give these lovely ladies the privilege of my presence on their couch tomorrow morning.” His wide grin breaks at the slap on the back of his head from Mulan, but neither her nor Ruby do anything to stop Will.

Wishes of merry Christmases fill the room and soon enough, Emma and Kilian find themselves heading towards the shop’s exit.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” The gentleness of his voice, the care in which he takes with her mission, lights a fire in her chest.

Her smile is wide even if her voice is quiet and soft. “Thank you. Seriously. It’s going to blow his mind.”

Killian’s response is cut off by loud cheers and chants of ‘Kiss! Kiss!’ They both turn a curious glance over at the crowd, ready to see who the latest couple caught by the random sprig of mistletoe is, only to find the crowd already staring back at them. Her head slowly tilts back and her mouth drops open, dumbfounded.

It feels fated, almost, the way that she’s found herself under the mistletoe with the one man who’s been able to turn her world inside-out in just a night. The universe is pushing them together and for once in her life, she agrees with it.

“Please,” Killian scoffs, addressing the group. It becomes clear to her quickly that he’s trying to give her an out or a reason to jump. His statement offers her the choice and that’s what does it. Well, that and his next sentence leave no other option for her competitive side. “She couldn’t handle it.”

Then he turns to her with that wide, victorious smirk and she wishes to wipe it right off his face, the smug bastard. No matter the choice she makes, he still wins. So she does the only logical thing to do in the situation.

She lays the bag with the comic pages on the display stand behind her. Her eyes remain locked on Killian’s the entire time and she can tell that he’s itching to swipe his thumb across his lip.

Then her resolve crumbles to nothing and she grasps the lapels of his leather jacket and tugs him forward.

Their lips meet in a slow, hesitant kiss despite the passionate start to their embrace. The moment Emma sighs, relaxing slightly as her mouth remains pressed against Killian’s, Killian takes advantage. He moves with confidence and familiarity. The taste of his mouth is new but the way his fingers tangle in her hair feels like his hand is always supposed to cradle her head there.

It’s exhilarating and intoxicating all at once. The sounds of the party fade to nothing and the only thing she can hear other than her racing pulse in her ear is the way Killian sighs and groans as they kiss. It’s delicious and tempting and she wants it to stay imprinted on the forefront of her mind.

The spell is cracked, not broken, when they pull apart.

Emma’s left in a daze, not registering a single moment of their final goodbyes before she’s buckled back up in Killian’s car and waiting for him to pull away from the curb.

Despite their bubble splintering at the store, a crackle of electricity, a simmering heat, still rises beneath the surface. It’s so palpable she can almost taste it. She can’t let him leave her yet. Not without another taste. Especially when he looks so unfairly good in the Santa hat bestowed on him at the store.

Killian starts their route to her place and Emma can’t bear to say goodbye to him when they pull up. Her mind flitters to the to-do list she wrote that morning and all the things she needed or should be doing for the holiday. The few remaining gifts she had to wrap, the food she had to prepare for tomorrow, and the cookies left unmade. All of the ingredients in her cabinets are new and purchased for a single holiday. She’ll never get through all of it by tomorrow.

Swallowing hard, Emma turns in her seat and looks at Killian. “What’re your plans for the rest of the holiday?”

He licks his lips before he answers, his mouth as dry as hers suddenly feels. “Just heading home to watch a few films on the telly.”

“How do you feel about making sugar cookies?” It only takes a moment for the question in his gaze to disappear, giving way to a bright grin. Her heart flutters at the sight and instead of fretting, she lets out a deep breath and relaxes her shoulders.

The house is warm when they enter. Henry’s new gift is placed aside to be wrapped once the cookies are in the oven. Their fingers linger longer than necessary as they help each other tie their aprons, a twinkle in Killian’s eyes as he raises an eyebrow when Emma’s hand slides a little too low once she’s finished.

“Fair game,” is what he whispers to her as he trails his hand up her side before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He leans down to place a soft kiss on her lips only for them to lose themselves in the action. Their Santa hats fall to the ground, not that either of them notice. The slight flour that got on Emma’s hand from pulling down ingredients before now runs a white streak through one side of Killian’s hair and he returns the favor once they actually start cooking.

She gets mesmerized by the way he uses his stump – brace off and arm washed clean – to knead the dough better than she’s ever been able to. It takes a near monumental effort to concentrate on the cookies and not what else he might be capable of.

That only lasts until the cookies are in the oven and the timer is set, Henry’s gift laying unwrapped where she left it as Killian proves just what he can do.

They trade lazy kisses once she finally gets around to wrapping Henry’s new gift. Neither of them attempt to repress the smiles that bloom on their faces and it’s the most at peace Emma has felt in possibly her entire life. The only thing that’d make the moment even better, she thinks to herself, would be if her kid were with them.

Perhaps it’s coincidence or luck. Or maybe Christmas magic, as hard as it is to believe, actually does exist. Because it’s not a moment later when, at 11:43pm Christmas Eve night, her phone rings.

“Hey, Mom?” Henry whispers once she picks up.

“Henry?” The hairs on the back of her neck raise in alert and she sees Killian’s posture straighten from beside her on the couch. He makes a quick move to pause Miracle on 34th Street.

“I’m okay,” her kid starts but Emma only feels a small bit of tension leave her shoulders. “I just… I miss you.”

Her heart lurches at his words. “I miss you too,” she whispers back and wills her eyes not to tear. It’s been a long time since they’ve been separated like this but time doesn’t make it easier. “How was your night, kid?”

Henry huff’s out a laugh. “Thanks for the gifts, I know they were your idea. Also, I’m pretty sure half of this stuff is actually his.”

She joins in his laughter with a quick snort of her own. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Yeah…” He pauses and Emma leans back into the couch. Killian raises an eyebrow in her direction as he wraps an arm around her and she merely shrugs. She guesses Henry just wanted to talk. “It doesn’t really feel like Christmas here. Not without you. Can you pick me up? I want to come home.”

“Oh Henry,” Emma whispers again. She makes quick work of the tear that manages to escape and nods her head before she realizes that he can’t see her. “Of course. It’ll take me ten minutes to get there. Start packing up and wake your dad to let him know, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

The moment after they hang up, Emma turns towards Killian and pulls him into a tight embrace, allowing only a few more tears free – the last thing she needs is to let Henry know how emotional their conversation got her.

“You’re right,” she mumbles into Killian’s neck. His hand and stump hold her closer and she feels every worry leave her body with a few strokes.

Killian was right. For as much as she focuses on the material things of the holiday, Henry doesn’t care about the gifts. She’s given him a home, a place of comfort and memories, and that’s what he wants this year. It’s nothing that Neal can provide him and Emma knows that just turning on their Christmas tree and watching Home Alone will be enough.

She glances at the gifts stuffed under the tree in their living room, especially the special new addition, and grins to herself.

The presents don’t hurt either.

Killian helps her to stand as she explains the situation. She can see the offer of a ride sitting on the tip of his tongue but his desire to not overstep holding it back. For most of the night, he’s been making the effort and opening up first. So this time, she resolves, it’s up to her.

With her hand out as an offering, she asks, “You willing to give us a ride?”

He grins wide, leaning down to give her a kiss. “Ride accepted.”

#run run rogers #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #will scarlet #ruby #ilovemesomekillianjones #cs fanfic #cs ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #holiday fic #cs secret santa 2021 #csss 2021 #my fics

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