#you’re absolutely right you gorgeous ladies fuck up others people shit

[emjoyy]

The messy lesbians encouraging Crowley to confess their feelings to only get metaphorically and romantically dunked on is the chaos lesbian representation we need. They be meddling and being wrong about other people’s relationships and they be fucking up shit…as they should.

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Step 7: Fall Further in Love, Cause You're Gay

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

Guess whos no longer sicc! Anyway, enjoy soft central with a hint of plot building and a dash of foreshadowing. I hope you enjoy 🦐✨

Tags: @variant-2402@the-bagel24@eveymay@kimiinou@muffintopxs

(pls let me know if you want to be tagged/ I missed you!)

Chapter 6 Cross Posted on AO3 here

HTWAHP Masterlist

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You were so comfy right now, holy shit. You were lying on a heavenly bed. Your head was resting on the softest, warmest pillow you had ever had the pleasure of laying your head upon. You snuggle your head closer freezing when you feel your pillow breathe.

Oh holy shit

You peek one eye open, lifting your head slightly. You’ve had your head resting on Larissa’s chest, your entire body resting atop hers with your legs intertwined. Her face is bare, the sunlight shining on the side of her face making her look even more ethereal than she usually does.

You grin up at her before gently extricating yourself from her limbs. You manage to get up without waking her and manage to keep yourself from tripping over your own feet. You pick up a shirt that was hanging over the chair at her vanity (she has a vanity, she’s so fancy), slipping it on before making your way to the kitchen.

She has a small kitchen attached to her rooms which you have to basically ransack to find mugs, coffee and hot chocolate. You finish making your drinks, humming to yourself softly. You’re halfway through the bedroom door when you notice Larissa sitting up, the covers bunched up around her, her head in her hands.

“Larissa?” You ask, rushing over to her.

“Oh shit fuck wait-“ you panic, nearly spilling your drink all over yourself.

She looks up at your, her eyes wet with unshed tears. She takes you in, doing your best to balance the mug you nearly dropped, dressed in her shirt, looking at her with so much concern.

You put the mugs on her bedside table, hovering over her nervously.

“Uhm I- is it okay if I touch you? Are you okay?” You ask.

“I- I’m sorry.” She laughs, wiping her eyes. “I just- you weren’t here when I woke up and-“

“Oh…oh gods I am so sorry.” You apologize, grabbing her hands. “I-I would never just leave you. You’re far too lovely for that.”

She smiles up at you, squeezing your hands before looking away.

“I must seem so silly, crying over something so trivial.” She whispers.

“I once cried when a cat looked at me and walked away.” You reply.

She laughs at that, pressing a kiss to your hand.

“I’m serious! It was a tabby and I did the whole pspspspsps and it just walked away! I was devastated.”

She snorts ducking her head and pulling you onto her lap. You squeak, bracing yourself by grabbing her shoulders. She presses a kiss to your neck, burying her face into it.

“Mmm you look absolutely delicious in my clothes.” She mumbles.

“I feel like you’re not taking my pain seriously here.” You hum, scratching at the base of her head.

“No no I’m listening darling…” she hums, pressing more kisses to your neck.

You tilt your head back, running your hand up her spine and humming.

“Are you feeling okay pretty lady?” You ask softly.

“Mmm..” she all but purrs into your neck.

“Do you want your coffee?”

“Mmm…”

“You know you have to remove your face from my neck to drink your coffee?”

She groans at that, pressing one last kiss to your neck before leaning back and reaching for her coffee. You two sit there, wrapped in each other (and Larissa’s soft comforter), sipping your coffee. It’s so domestic and soft and everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

Until you notice the fucking massive headache that you had been ignoring until now. You wince putting your coffee down and reaching up to rub your forehead.

“Are you okay darling?” She asks, reaching up to cup your face.

“Mm. Just a headache. I have no idea why thou- oh wait…” you murmur.

“Darling?”

“Ahhhh I forgot to take my drugs.”

“Your what now?”

“Oh no it’s not- I have prescription medication I have to take every morning otherwise I get all headachey and lightheaded.” You reassure her.

“Oh. Oh, that’s- darling I’m sorry I-“ she stammers.

“Nope. Shhhhhh. None of that,” you start, “nothing to apologize for. I regret absolutely nothing and would rather suffer a hundred headaches than not be here with you.”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay darling?” She blushes, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Mhm, I’ll just take it easy today. I don’t have work anyway so it shouldn’t be a problem.” You hum.

“So I have my pretty barista all to myself today?” She purrs, pulling you flush against her.

“You are absolutely insatiable,” you giggle before rushing forward to kiss her.

——————-

“YOU ABSOLUTE LEGEND. YOU ACTUALLY SLE-“

You slap your hand over James’ mouth, mortified he would be so vocal about your sex life.

“Yes, okay calm down you fucking degenerate.” You hiss, smacking him.

“I’m so proud of you, you spunky little bottom.” He smirks. “And Tyler owes me 20 bucks.”

“You took a bet with Tyler about my sex life?”

“Yes. You know I’ll literally do anything for money.”

You sigh at him, shaking your head. The three of you are getting the cafe ready for Outreach day. You had been leaving Nevermore when Larissa mentioned it to you, explaining how the kids would work in the town for half the day as a way of “bettering normie-outcast relations.” She seemed really excited for it so you internally vowed to be the kindest fucker on the face of this planet.

You had been briefing the boys on how they needed to behave and how you would not hesitate to fuck them up if they were rude(they were both adamant they wouldn’t be and then made fun of you for making such an effort for your girlfriend), when in walked three kids in Nevermore uniforms. One of them, wearing super cool shades, made a beeline for you.

“Your Principal Weems girlfriend right?” She asked, stopping rather closely in front of you.

“Uhm well-“

“Trick question: I saw you leave her rooms the other day.” She grins. “I’m Yoko.”

“It’s- it’s great to meet you, Yoko,” you manage, doing your best to keep your face from burning. “Uh…You want me to show you how to use the fucked up coffee machine?”

“Sweet.” She nods.

You spend the next hour or so teaching Yoko how to make different kinds of coffee. She was surprisingly good at it and really quick to learn. She was also, much to your dismay, pretty good at making late art.

“You’re going to put me out of a job if you continue like this.” You joke.

“Maybe I will,” she deadpans, “maybe I’ll start a vampire cafe. We would put you out of business.”

“Damn Yoko. I thought we were bonding. I can’t believe you would betray me like this.” You cry, wiping away fake tears.

“Nah I’d hire you, you’re chill. You smell kinda like a vampire actually…” she trails off.

“I smell…like…a vampire?” You ask.

She sniffs you, making a face before poking your upper lip. “You don’t have fangs though…strange…”

“I uhh use vanilla deodorant?” You try.

“No…that’s not it…” she murmurs, “Weird…”

The two of you stand there, Yoko studying you and you feeling awkward as anything. She’s broken out of her investigation by two other students entering the cafe, one of them being Enid. The two catch Yoko's attention and, after saying goodbye to you, she runs off with the two of them. Before you can have an internal crisis about what Yoko was talking about Larissa walks in, looking radiant and ethereal as ever.

You lean against the counter, grinning at her in a way you can only assume made you look like a lovesick puppy due to the two “awws” you receive from behind you. You flip both of them the bird before Larissa arrives in front of you.

“Hi pretty lady.” You hum, smiling up at you.

“Hello darling,” she grins. “I’ll take one hot chocolate please.”

“For here or to go?”

“For here.” She hums, looking you up and down. “I don’t suppose you could join me?”

“I would literally love nothing more.” You grin, taking off your apron.

“Are you seriously going to make us make you and your girlfriend hot chocolate?” James scoffs earning a snort from Tyler.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” You joke, sliding into the booth across from Larissa.

You notice she’s sitting super straight, her shoulders tense. She’s fiddling with her fingers and she’s blushing bright red. You’re mentally trying to figure out why she looks so embarrassed when it finally clicks.

“Uhm Larissa?” You start. “I know we never really spoke about it. And I mean I probably should’ve brought it up before I just let people say stuff. And I mean you may not even want to be together that way and I shouldn’t have assumed-“

“Darling take a breath.” She soothes, reaching across the table to grab your hands mid wild gesture.

You do as she says, squeezing her hands.

“Sorry…I just really really like you. And I uhm. Would it be okay if- that is to say would you-“

She laughs, a sound that makes your heart race and you barely suppress the urge to swoon. She’s looking at you with such a soft look and her beautiful blue eyes.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” She smirks and god it’s so hot this is unfair.

“I- well. Yes.” You mumble.

“I would love nothing more darling.”

And just like that you are the happiest person in the world. You’re almost certain you giggle and blush like a goddamn schoolgirl. Tyler drops off your drinks, winking at you and raising his brows. You sit and chat for a bit when Mayor Walker enters. He chats with Larissa, essentially ignoring you and it pains you to see how much she has to suck up to him.

They chat for a while, you’re not paying that much attention. A few moments later Marylin enters, ordering herself something at the counter (probably her usual matcha latte) before making her way over to the three of you.

“Fancy seeing you here stranger.” She grins.

“Marylin! It’s so nice to see you again. How’s the greenhouse?” You ask.

“Really well actually! Not to toot my own horn but my nightshades are doing quite well for this time of year.”

The two of you chat for a while, Marylin laughing at your dry humour and resting her hand on your shoulder.

“Mayor Walker, this is Marylin Thornhill.” Larissa says, interrupting your conversation with the redhead and gesturing to the woman in question, “In the spirit of outreach, she's Nevermore's first normie teacher.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Marilyn smiles.

The four of you chat for a while, Larissa shooting Marylin a look every time she laughs at one of your jokes. Eventually, the mayor leaves to get ready for the ceremony and Marylin leaves to gather the students. You’re standing with Larissa at the door when she suddenly pulls you incredibly close and grips your chin between her sinfully long fingers.

“Darling, I have had such a wonderful time with you today,” she purrs.

You feel your face heat exponentially, feeling flustered by both her sultry tone and her proximity.

“Uhm uh no-no problem! I aim to please.”

“And what a good job you do of that, hm?”

You’re sure if you weren’t basically leaning against her you probably would’ve collapsed at her words. She’s honestly looking at you like she wants to eat you (which you are never opposed to). A group of students, led by Marylin pass by, the woman sending you a bright smile and a wave.

You half expect her to let you go, put some distance between the two of you. But to your utter delight, she decides to double down on her affection, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then your lips. You stare up at her, wide-eyed and so in love.

“What was that for?” You whisper.

“Am I not allowed to kiss my girlfriend just because?” She hums, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“No! You totally can! I just- well with all the students around I just thought maybe you- I mean you have this image as like the principal and all-“ you explain, feeling warm all over.

“Well, I care far less about maintaining a reputation than I do about making sure you know exactly how I feel about you.” She grins.

“And perhaps ensuring no one gets any ideas about trying to seduce you.” She mumbles afterwards.

You giggle at that, stretching up to press a kiss to her cheek. You poke her nose gently, smirking up at her.

“Larissa Weems, do I detect jealousy in your tone?” You tease.

“I-I do not get jealous.” She huffs, her cheeks gaining a pink tinge.

“Sure you don’t,” you chuckle, “so I guess you wouldn’t mind me hanging out with Marylin during your fancy ceremony?”

“Absolutely not-“

“AHA!”

“…Perhaps you may have been the slightest bit correct in your assumption…” She sighs, blushing and looking anywhere but at you.

“Well, it’s a good thing I only have eyes for you then, isn’t it?”

She pauses for a moment, gaping down at you, but then she fucking beams, looking so fucking happy you wish you could freeze this moment and have her this happy for eternity.

“Mm, I don’t think anyone could ever be as stunning and goddamn enthralling as you. So I guess you’re stuck with me.” You finish, smiling dopily up at her.

“You really are delightful darling.” She hums “Whatever did I do to deserve you…”

“You’ll never believe it, you actually just existed.” You finish with a fake gasp. “Now go do your fancy ceremony, pretty lady.”

She snorts, pressing one last kiss to your lips before letting you go. She then saunters off towards the town square and you do shamelessly stare at her ass for as long as you can. You’re broken from your admittedly unholy thoughts by James slapping his hand onto your shoulder.

“Come on whore, let’s go watch your girlfriend's special ceremony.”

——————————

The statue exploded.

If you were honest, the statue was awfully ugly and it exploding wasn’t a terrible loss. But you would not express these thoughts to Larissa who was currently angrily looming over her fireplace.

When the explosion had happened you had freaked the fuck out before immediately searching for Larissa. She had, thank the gods, been unharmed by the explosion. You ran to check up on her, fussing over her as she assured you she was fine.

She had been, and there is really no better way to put this, absolutely fucking livid. You hadn’t understood why until you noticed Wednesday, sitting playing her cello while everyone else ran screaming.

So now, right after Larissa had spent a good 15 minutes yelling at the girl before she left, you decided voicing your opinion on the shittiness of the destroyed statue was not a good idea.

“This is an absolute disaster.” She murmurs.

“It’ll be okay. The statue-“

“This isn’t about the bloody statue!” She yells, whipping around to face you. “It’s about what this does to our reputation! All the work I’ve put in to make things better with the townspeople, with the normies, all of it destroyed because of one selfish brooding teenager!”

You flinch at her yelling, shrinking back into the couch a bit. She notices, freezing and shrinking a little into herself. She opens her mouth to speak before clearing her throat.

“I-I’m sorry. I…” she starts, turning back to face the fireplace. “Maybe it would be best if you went home for the night. You shouldn’t have to- you shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”

You stand up at that, quickly walking over to her and gently coaxing her to turn around with your hands on her hips. When she finally faces you, she looks so ashamed. There are tears gathering in her gorgeous blue eyes and your heart cracks a little.

“You’re allowed to be upset honey.” You start, making sure to look her in the eye. “I will admit, the yelling scared me a little- but! But it’s okay because you’ve had a fucking awful afternoon. And I know how hard you’ve worked on getting the townspeople to be less stupid and bigoted towards you. You put in so much hard work and you are making a difference. And today was probably a setback, yes, but that doesn’t mean all your hard work goes away okay? You’re so incredible, Larissa. I can’t- I don’t know how to explain how inspiring you are with your passion and care for your students and this school.”

You notice her chin wobbling a bit as she swallows and wipes at her eyes to try stop the tears from falling. She’s terribly unsuccessful at it but you don’t mention that, reaching up to wipe her cheeks for her.

“So today was fucked. And that sucks. And if you want to cry or yell or scream, I’ll be here the whole time. But remember that you are amazing and a fucking genius. So tomorrow we can worry about the angry people and the mayor, and all that stuff. But tonight, I want you to feel all the awful feelings you’re having and then you’re going to come with me to bed and cuddle my brilliant ass all night long. Okay?”

She laughs, a watery sad sound that squeezes your heart. You lead her to the couch, sitting down and pulling her into your lap. She buries her head in your neck, her tears soaking into your skin. You hold her for a long while, letting her cry and curl into you. Every now and again she hiccups something between her sobs. You just sit with her, running your hand through her hair and pressing kisses to the crown of her head between reassurances.

Eventually, she runs out of tears, taking a shuddering breath as she sits up breathing deeply. She looks awfully small at this moment, her eyes red-rimmed and her face wet from her tears. You cup her cheek with your hand, pressing a kiss to her nose. She scrunches her nose cutely at the sensation and you resist the urge to coo at her.

“Shall we go to bed, my pretty lady?” You ask softly.

She nods, standing from your lap and helping you up. You walk her to her room, helping her take down her hair and wipe off her makeup. You do make corny jokes every now and again earning cute smiles and soft laughter from the blonde. When you’re both settled in her bed, you on your back with her laying on top of you (you don’t mention how the weight of her on you feels so comforting you want to cry about it.) she speaks.

“Thank you for- for everything, darling.” She whispers, nuzzling into your chest.

“It really was my pleasure hon. I would do it again in a heartbeat.” You whisper back, wrapping your arm around her waist. The two of you fall asleep that way, Larissa’s head on your chest, your arms wrapped around her, thinking of how absolutely in love you are with this woman.

[hazbincalifornia]

New Face

Chapter 62: Blitzo meets the new hand at the ranch before the start of the Games.

Ao3 link

Blitzo flicked at the suspenders tugged above his shirt, feeling them quiver in the process- it was, frankly, a miracle that they hadn’t snapped when forced to stretch across all of the baby belly. To be fair, he had gotten ones that had extra give in them, so they at least didn’t feel like they would die a horrible death on him. He’d dolled himself up as much as his body would currently allow before Stolas insisted on opening a portal a little closer to the ranch, albeit next to the barn. (Not that Blitzo was about to complain, considering he’d probably be standing up for a larger portion of today than he had been recently.)

“Blitz!” Millie waved over to him, and he cracked his back before walking over, feeling his belly sway a little with every step. Fuck, he’d be glad when he could carry the kid in his arms, that seemed like it would be better for balance. Still, he could feel a faint buzz through his veins and his mouth still had an aura of lingering sweet iron as she tilted his head. “How are ya?”

“Never better, Mills.” He cracked a grin. “So, I heard there were some kind of games here- why didn’t you tell me? I should take that off your next paycheck, you know daddy loves that kinda shit.”

“The Pain Games?” The voice was somewhat rough, and Blitz spun to see a cowboy imp turn away from an absolutely gorgeous fire-stallion that immediately had his heart do triple-time. Was he related to Millie, and, follow-up question, would he be allowed to pet him?

“Yeah, those.” Blitzo nodded as the stranger closed some of the distance between them even though he stayed a few steps away, eyes darting up and down Blitzo’s body with a twitch of his lips. Right now, he was just an obstacle to horse-time, though. “So, can I-”

“Bombproof doesn’t like anybody touching him but me, ain’t that right, boy?” He gave the horse a pat and he nickered, nuzzling his muzzle into his side. Blitzo slumped a little at that, but the cowboy clicked his tongue.

“She said that the boss was stayin’ somewhere else for the night... you must be it then, huh?”

“Yep! Mill’s one of our best.” The fact that there were only four of them and three on active duty didn’t necessarily need to be shared, after all. “You one of her brothers?”

“He’s the new hand,” Millie said with a little nod. “Striker, was it?”

“Sure enough, little lady.” he said, nodding back with a little wink at her. “She’s been telling us about how business is going well- being able to wrangle that all up is real impressive, especially with you... full like that.” His tail flicked with a rattling noise as he folded his arms, and Blitzo beamed with pride.

“Once we got the groove, there’s a never-ending supply of sinners who’ve got beef with people they left behind, so hey, it’s just a matter of getting them into the office, y’know?”

“Right, of course. Does that ditzy royal you got up through know you’re...” Striker grimaced a little for half a second before he swallowed it back and waved at his middle, and Blitzo froze for a moment before waving a hand in response.

“It’s- y’know- it was a one night thing, I’ve got a weakness for bad boys so I let ‘em go in raw, and I’m already a dad so what’s one more, right? She’s gonna be a strong little bitch, though! Still need to pick a name, but maybe I’ll get struck by lightning on that soon.” Something else, think of something else- “So! Games! You already knew about ‘em, so you gonna join in?”

Striker took to the sudden switch with ease, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll do one better- I’m going to win.”

“Bold claim, big boy.”

He grinned with one eye narrowed, gold tooth glinting in the daylight. “Trust me, sir, you’ll see.”

“And they’re starting soon!” A new voice called out from near the front of the house, and Blitzo turned to see a taller imp that he knew he’d seen a picture of before. This one he was pretty sure was Millie’s sister. Mallie? S something? Stellie? Sally- Sallie May, that was it. She turned to him, unable to help a little snicker. “You joining in, daddy boy?”

“Hey, are you insinuating I can’t, sweet-cheeks?”

“I’m saying you could drop into the pig pen and I might not notice at first.” Still, there was a mischievous twinkle to her eyes that he liked immediately.

“Depending on what chow you toss in there, maybe I wouldn’t even complain, this not-so-little bitch has me starving all the time.” Blitzo tapped his belly, and she laughed before walking out to join them.

“I’ll see whoever’s not a pussy at the starting line.”

“Hey, hey, that better not be aimed at me!” Millie protested, and Blitzo’s head swiveled.

“Wait, what?”

“Long story, but I’m not allowed to join in anymore,” she muttered as Striker headed down the road with Sallie May. “I’ll be cheerin’ on Sallie, at least, she’s gotta hold up the family name since they made a stupid ‘too many deaths in one round’ rule.”

“That sounds like they just couldn’t handle you.” He ruffled Millie’s hair, and she nudged at his side.

“See, you get it.”

“So, is Moxx coming?”

“Yeah, he was just finishing up in his room, he’ll be down any-”

“Good, sir, you’re here!” Moxxie stuck his head out the front door before jogging over. “Someone locked me in on accident!”

“That was probably one’a the little ones, they’re rascals." Millie said. "Did you pick the lock?”

“Luckily it was an easy one.”

“I see my lessons paid off!” Blitzo repeated the hair-ruffling on Moxxie, who waved him off.

“Anyway, I heard one of them say something about some games before the festival?”

“That’s where we’re heading now. Anything that puts ‘pain’ and ‘games’ together is either gonna be fantastic or awful, so we’ll see when we get there,” Blitzo said as they started walking. “So, Mills, as the local expert, care to spill the details?”

“Sure! Well, first they usually start with the climbing and tying...”

_______________

Blitzo was delighted to discover that walking was far less of a problem than it had been recently- if anything, the weight around his middle was only a balance issue, and once he figured out how to sway his hips properly, she wasn’t as much of a problem as she’d been the past few weeks. Walking was just walking, which probably meant that Stolas's royal heart-snack had given a jolt to his system. Score one for cannibalism.

He scanned over the crowd milling around at the starting line- there was a healthy mix of all genders and body types, although there did seem to be a lower age limit since he didn’t see anyone who looked to be younger than fifteen or sixteen. Then, he glanced over the course, tapping his chin.

There was the protection spell...

“Hmm.”

Moxxie noticed him noticing the layout and grimaced.

“Sir. No.”

“Come on, I could whip the asses of any fucker here, even like this!” He waved a hand over at another clearly-pregnant imp, a short one with pink eyes that looked like he might be part shark that was stretching at the starting line. “That guy’s doing it!”

“That guy also looks like he’s about two months behind you,” Moxxie noted wryly. “What if your water breaks?”

“That’ll give me a couple extra seconds while somebody else slips in it!” Blitzo protested as Moxxie dragged a hand down his face, and Striker chuckled, leaning against the fence.

“Tell you what- I like your guts. We wouldn’t want you fucking both’a you up, so how about you and me just have a friendly little wager? There’ll be plenty of time afterward, so how about we take the mud wrestling pit together and see who ends up on top? Winner buys the loser dessert.”

Blitzo felt a kick, and raised a hand to his stomach to soothe away the baby’s irritation as a grin spread across his face. “Deal.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ruined, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Why is there a mostly shirtless man in your bedroom and why is it Kim Namjoon's, your roommate's, fault? All you want to do is play League of Legends, not be visually attacked by ridiculously attractive Jeon Jungkook as his six friends perform living room karaoke at the top of their very drunk lungs.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; classic Namjoon ripping clothes; you don't have to know how to play LoL, I explain most of it; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, begging, scratching / marking, nipple play, edging / orgasm denial, handjob, (unintentional?) voyeurism, little bit of cum-eating, choking, cowgirl, cock warming); non-idol!BTS – purple-haired, kind-of-a-brat, sub!Jungkook x gamer, noona, dom!reader, ft OT6 being chaotic in the background XD

@yn-the-reader linked me in this and I was already writing about him. a prophet, maybe? XD

--

“WHY ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?”

You died.

Not literally, but also literally.

“Fuck!”

Now you had thirty-seven seconds of gray screen to figure out why the fuck Jeon Jungkook had busted into your bedroom on this cheerful night with his black dress shirt three-quarters of the way unbuttoned, revealing most of his – oh, sweet Satan, very muscular – pecs and the upper half of his abs. He was holding something in his hands, looking helpless and sad, while you were panic buying Liandry's Anguish and experiencing a special form of anguish yourself.

“Noona, um–”

That’s right, because you were in the middle of a League of Legends game, playing Cassiopeia, the Serpent’s Embrace, also known as half-snake lady or the lamia of the champion roster or a mean version of Monster Musume’s Miia (if you know, you know, and if you don’t, be glad you don’t). Your roommate was having friends over after going drinking. All this was fine and dandy with you, because you were going to spend all night wearing headphones and playing League of Legends, therefore ignoring the outside world, until the outside world came to bother you in the form of Kim Namjoon’s – your roommate’s – mostly shirtless friend Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t mostly shirtless most of the time, only right now.

“Noona, Namjoon-hyung ripped my shirt…” Jungkook whimpered hesitantly, chewing on his lip. He looked awkward and distraught despite his long dark purple hair giving him a rather fierce, bad-boy look.

Namjoon was a great roommate. He was smart, conversational, and insightful. A chat with him usually led to an enriching, open-minded perspective. He was relatively clean, considerate, communicative, nonjudgmental, fun to be around, and only set the kitchen on fire twice.

The second time was your fault.

You shouldn’t have let Namjoon in the kitchen the second time.

Also, Namjoon with his friends was a wildly chaotic time. All of his friends, especially drunk, were fucking nuts. Normally, they were probably relatively calm people (maybe not Kim Seokjin or Jung Hoseok, they were very excitable), but together they were a mess. You often wondered how they could function as a group.

Currently, however, you were trying to collect your brain cells as you had mere seconds before respawning onto the platform and were forced to play again. Timing in League of Legends was very important. Seconds can mess up wave management of minions and wave mismanagement can lead to game losses if you weren’t careful. The nuances of the game were often ignored by casual players.

You were, in short, a nerd about it.

“Fucking s-shit, what h-happened?” you sputtered out, turning back to your screen, unable to look at mostly shirtless Jungkook because he was MOSTLY SHIRTLESS. Honestly, he had quite nice pecs, and you should not be thinking about that, but it was incredibly distracting, just like how it used to be distracting when Namjoon was shirtless, but several years of living with him made you accustomed to his impressive pectoral muscles, to the point where you could joke about them with him.

But this was not Namjoon – this was his younger friend Jungkook and you had no idea Jungkook was ripped, mostly because you didn’t pay attention to Namjoon’s friends.

There were too many of them and you were too introverted for that.

“I don’t know, he just grabbed my shirt and it ripped and I managed to find all the buttons, but, but…”

Cassiopeia respawned on the platform and you couldn’t ignore the snake lady any longer. You had to play the game because four random people on your team were counting on you and you couldn’t exactly type, sorry, there’s a hot man in my room with his shirt practically off and I don’t know what to do with my life, so you had to suck it up and play the damn game.

Right-clicking and keeping your eyes only on your computer monitor.

Half-listening to that trembling, silvery voice coming up behind you, making your hairs stand on end even though all he was doing was dumping the tiny buttons on your desk.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself.

“Can you repair it? Please? My mom bought me this shirt and Namjoon-hyung said you can sew, so maybe you can sew them back on? Please?”

“Yes, Jungkook, I can, just not right now, I’m in the middle of a game,” you rambled, suddenly trading damage with the enemy Viktor, trying to avoid the laser from the Machine Herald, swearing under your breath as you stutter-stepped and stunned him, poisoning him quickly enough with your abilities to avoid dying. “I will help you, I just – fucking shit, get the fuck away from me Udyr, fuck!”

“Wow, you curse a lot, noona. It’s kind of funny.”

“I – fuck– I mean, sometimes, and what are you guys doing out there? It sounds like a deranged cabaret club,” you remarked, ticking your head towards the direction of your bedroom door.

“Karaoke!” Jungkook replied brightly, still standing behind you, why was he standing behind you, it was freaking you out a little, but Ocean Dragon was being taken and a team fight was about to happen, so you had to ignore it and support your teammates in chasing down the enemy support.

Seokjin hit a high note that was so shrill that you heard it through your headphones.

“… Wow, he’s got some lungs on him.”

“Do you wanna join us, noona?”

“I can’t sing.”

“Neither can we.”

“Pretty sure all of you can sing better than I can, even Yoongi and Namjoon. I’m fucking terrible.”

“I’m not that good.”

You barely survived with thirty hit points after that debacle of a team fight, but your team had the dragon and you all were slowly on your way to victory. You pressed the ‘B’ key to return to base, but kept your eyes on the screen, lest Udyr, the Spirit Walker and serial bear stun-slapping enemy jungler, ran your ass down and killed you.

“Jungkook, your voice is absolutely heavenly. Fucking beautiful. I’m sure every human being on Earth would want to be serenaded by you.”

Silence that you didn’t notice was awkward for him because you were too busy letting out a sigh of relief and building your next item, typing quickly to your teammates. You all were about to set up for vision around Baron Nashor, a large purple worm-dragon monster that when killed provided a significant, sometimes game-ending buff.

“R… really?”

“Yeah, and you’re handsome, gorgeous, and hot as hell too, so the whole damn package,” you responded absentmindedly, realizing the enemy were trying to split-push and trade objectives so you sent some pings to your teammate to take care of that as you accompanied the main group to help clear waves of minions.

Heat.

You heard him shift beside you and suddenly his face was next to yours, watching your screen closely.

Side-step, cast your ultimate, cast your Miasma ability to ground the enemies and prevent them from dashing away, switching between auto-attacking and piercing them with Twin Fang, all in the span of a mild freak-out because why was Jungkook so FUCKING close?

“Wow, you’re so good at League.”

“I’m Diamond rank, so not that good, but definitely better than all seven of you combined.”

“Haha, true, we’re all pretty bad,” Jungkook laughed next to your ear and, oh, shit, is warm breath feathered on your neck, why weren’t you wearing a turtleneck or something and not your self-cropped oversized band t-shirt and slinky black leggings, why weren’t you cocooned in layers of clothes, because you were quickly highly aware of how attractive Namjoon’s friends were.

To top it all off, you were in the middle of a game, so you just had to tolerate it and stay calm for the sake of your teammates and your elo.

“Maybe you could teach us and we’ll teach you something in return.”

“You guys don’t even listen to each other, why would I assume you all would listen to me?”

“I’d listen to you, noona.”

Now your team was doing the Baron dance, skirting in and out of vision, daring the other team to make a move, daring each other to make a mistake so the other could capitalize on it, slowly, slowly, watch the waves, watch the minimap. Careful. You could control the situation if you were calm and not too trigger-happy. Tension in your fingers and tension in your neck because your roommate’s friend was right next to your head, observing your every move.

His violet hair brushed your shoulder.

Soft, delicate strands against your skin.

“You’re more experienced, so you would know what to do.”

Your support snap-engaged a fight and you were immediately in the zone, right clicking rapidly, cycling through your abilities, keeping track of the opponents’ spells, determined not to let any of them get away, following your teammate’s calls and not hesitating, because hesitation as death and loss, and you were so close to winning you could taste it, going after it with passionate vigor and a slow-forming grin, seeing and hearing the in-game announcer declaring, QUADRA KILL.

You didn’t kill all five of them because someone took the pentakill from you.

You might have cared about that except your ear exploded into clapping as Jungkook excitedly applauded for you, cheering you on, reminding you that a mostly shirtless man was standing right next to you.

Thanks, Namjoon, you thought sarcastically.

“Wow, you played that so well, dodging the Viktor ult and stunning three people like that–”

You felt your cheeks heat at the compliments, busying yourself with your team killing Baron. You didn’t usually have someone commenting on your games. Your eyes flickered to the small buttons on your desk.

Especially not a mostly shirtless guy.

Mostly shirtless hot guy.

Back to screen, seeing your jungler’s typed instructions, suggesting you all to destroy as many structures as you could and then prepare for the next fight for Ocean Dragon Soul and – oh? Your eyebrows raised as the screen abruptly jerked to the enemy base, the nexus inside exploding into shiny gem-like fragments that became the VICTORY banner.

“They surrendered?” you uttered with surprise, clicking on the CONTINUE button. “Why?”

Your eyes flickered to the kill score.

“Oh, thirty-two to nine… maybe that’s why….”

Your team had the nine deaths and the opponent team had thirty-two so, well, maybe that’s why they surrendered the game.

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Jungkook pouted as you clicked on the damage screen. Second most damage. Okay, you could take that. You were a little distracted.

“So, about your problem–”

You spun around to, ack, realize that, yes, Jungkook’s shirt was still flapped wide open to expose his chest like an unwrapped piece of caramel candy. He seemed to realize it too, making a surprised face and yanking the sides closed, as if you hadn’t gotten a damn eyeful already.

“I can resew the buttons back on, but you should borrow a shirt from Namjoon in the meantime,” you managed to say, clearing your throat. “Because I, ah, can’t really sew it when you’re still wearing the shirt.”

“Oh… Oh, right, yeah.”

Then he started yanking his shirt out of his slacks.

UMMMMMMM.

Usually, you didn’t care about this stuff. Men were men. They had chests. But you had things you liked too. Just like how men like tits and ass, you liked well-built pecs and forearms. Actually, you appreciated a nice ass and thighs too. And cute faces. Fuck, you loved a cute face.

“Uh, Jungkook…”

He looked up, questioningly. Big round brown eyes, his violet bangs framing his chiseled jaw, parted pink lips, the small mole underneath his lower lip looking so, so kissable, quivering slightly.

Fuck, Jungkook had a cute face.

His shirt was very open.

Fuck, his lightly tanned skin.

He was hesitating around a button, his deft fingers flexed, ink black tattoos standing out on his knuckles and the back of his hand. Your legs were slightly spread, thighs flush to your gaming chair. Half a second and Jungkook’s eyes flickered back up to your face, pretending he hadn’t been looking.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you really just gonna strip in my room and walk out asking Namjoon for a shirt and hope none of the six guys think anything about it?”

His eyes shifted around your room. Bed with black sheets and black velvet duvet. Television with your gaming consoles. Your collection of character figurines from various games. Your black denim jacket hanging on a hook, covered in monotone patches that you had sewn yourself, mostly occult-themed, skeletons, skulls, cats, ghosts, potions, eyeballs, that kind of thing. Back to your desk.

Your legs.

Really staring at your thighs, hips, and crotch.

Up your torso, your hands, your exposed collarbones.

Your face.

Guarding his expression, testing the waters.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said slowly. His eyes darted away and back, teeth catching his lower lip. “I really am hoping you can fix my shirt.”

You watched his face carefully, the flare of darkness in those brown orbs, a hint of naughtiness, dancing with danger. Jungkook had a mischievous streak. You could tell by the way he interacted with his hyungs, listening but talking back, helping them with things but not without a roll of his eyes or a smart remark added, probably because all his friends were older and he was the youngest. He knew he could get away with it.

In short.

Brat.

“What would you like in return, noona?” Jungkook purred, smile dancing on his lips.

Honorifics were supposed to honor you. Show a sign of respect and all that shit.

All I wanted to do was play video games, you grumbled internally. Not suddenly have a thirst fest for one of Namjoon’s best friends. You narrowed your eyes a little, seeing the smirk on that perfectly shaped mouth. He’s not stopping either.

Outside your room, something fell with a loud crash. Probably Namjoon by the depth of that startled yelp. Everyone else started laughing and a very loud, cheerful melody was blasting from the living room television. Nobody was coming to investigate you and Jungkook.

Yet.

“Turn around and ask for a shirt,” you sighed, waving a hand. “Then take off your shirt in the bathroom and then, only then, do you come back and give me your dress shirt.”

You saw Jungkook frown, not expecting that as your answer.

“Oh. Okay.”

He seemed disappointed, lowering his hands.

The silky fabric of the dress shirt slid off his right shoulder, partly revealing his tattoo sleeve and fully revealing his right collarbone and shoulder.

You sucked in a breath, eyes flickering to it. Then his face. Then back to his body. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Jungkook jumped, startled by the fallen fabric and reached over to grab the fallen collar. Your hand moved faster than you had time to think. You had good reaction time. It was the gaming obsession.

You slapped his hand down.

Jungkook squeaked, head snapping up, purple hair floating around him, gold chain on his neck glittering as he swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Strangely, his chain resembled your sterling silver choker that you were wearing right now, except you also wore another necklace with a circular white gold pendant with your zodiac sign.

Not that anyone was ever close enough to inspect it.

“N-Noona?” he breathed, sounding strangely winded.

Shit.

You hadn’t meant to do that. Your body reacted faster than your head.

Shit.

Fuck, he had a nice body. His pecs. Even had a nice dark nipple – well, he probably had two, but you could only see one at the moment – and it all trimmed down to a slim waist and shapely hips. You could tell because of his tailored black slacks. He had been wearing a blazer earlier in the evening too. It was probably on a chair somewhere in the apartment.

Shit.

What did Jungkook need to look so damn good for?

“Where did you guys go to be dressed like that?”

Yes, you were really just going to interrogate him with his shirt dangling off like that.

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip, the tiny mole underneath bouncing up and down as he spoke. “We went to a fancy hotel rooftop bar to celebrate Yoongi-hyung’s award that he won at the music show for producing that song–”

“Ah, right, Namjoon mentioned that earlier today.” Dress code must have been black tie.

Those dark brown eyes found yours, observing you carefully.

“I would have liked to see you there, noona.”

You stopped staring at the tattoos on his bicep and made eye contact. Fuck. Those eyes. Sparkling with deviousness. Trying to see how far he could push your buttons.

“I wonder what kind of dress would you have worn?” he murmured, musing to himself. “I bet you would have looked hotter than any girl there.” Jungkook smiled, playful and boyish. He wasn’t being sleazy about it. Every word was light and honest. “A tight little black dress? Maybe bright red? Short, because you have incredible legs. It would be a crime not to show them off.” He was only complimenting you. His tone wasn’t trying to be suggestive.

Yet.

You didn’t close your legs. You had nothing to be shy about.

Instead, you leaned back in your gaming chair as if it was a throne, resting your left elbow on the armrest and your chin on two fingers, thighs wide open, and your other hand in between them, fingers curled inward to your inner thigh.

Jungkook’s pink lips curved ever higher, ever more roguish.

“Whatever you would have chosen, you would have looked so, so sexy.”

You ticked your head.

“I know.”

Because you did.

Look here, Jeon Jungkook, I’m here minding my own damn business and you’re here inserting yourself into my life, so if you can’t handle me knowing my self-worth, you can fuck right off.

He reached up and tucked a bit of his purple hair behind his right ear, grinning at you.

“You sure you don’t want anything from me?” he asked, a slight flicker of pink tongue between white teeth. “I can give first and then you can decide whether or not you want to help.”

Honestly, those sultry eyes could stop a heart.

You removed your hand from your chin, tapping the air with those two fingers in a dismissive manner.

“Hm.”

Outside, Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok were singing a soulful duet and Park Jimin was hooting at inappropriate moments to ruin the atmosphere as much as possible. That raspy, breathless laugh was Min Yoongi, who was probably doubled over on the floor in his expensive suit. Classic genius music producer of the year behavior right there.

Jungkook tucked his hands in his pockets, shirt sleeve falling down, revealing his blacked-out inner elbow. Mountains with a dark sky. It must have hurt, doing something like that. Still, he did it. For aesthetics?

You heard the smirk rather than seeing it, mostly because you were looking at his body.

“I would look so damn good on you, noona.”

Alright.

You closed your eyes slowly and reopened them to look directly into those dangerous, dangerous eyes.

“Lock the door.”

Not really an order. More of a statement. Jungkook could do it or not, you knew. He couldn’t be coerced to do anything. He did things because he wanted to do them. He was nice because he wanted to be nice. He was childish when he wanted to be childish.

And.

Jungkook was obedient when he wanted to be obedient.

He turned around, went to your bedroom door, and locked it.

Well then.

He came back and stood in front of you. A little closer now.

You cocked an eyebrow. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

Jungkook smiled down at you. “I’m sure they will.”

You frowned, lowering your hand to tap the end of the armrest. “They’re going to think I started this.”

“You kind of did.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply. He grinned, taking a step closer.

“Because it’s not my fault you look so good,” Jungkook breathed, voice deepening, leaning down, your expression unchanging, not pulling back but not encouraging anything either. “Not my fault your body is hotter than a summer. Not my fault your confidence is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your thighs were still as open as his shirt.

Jungkook put his knee in between them.

His dress shirt was basically almost completely off his body now, falling off the left shoulder too and dangling off his forearms, exposed collarbones and shoulders, tan skin taut over muscle. A delicious body line, so fucking close to you that you could feel the heat. You still didn’t do anything. You weren’t going to do anything. You didn’t prompt this. You were simply minding your own business commanding a snake lady to victory, not expecting to get seduced by a mischievous bunny-like smile and a tiny black mole under a cute pout.

“I can’t help myself around you.”

You usually didn’t say more to Namjoon’s friends than a mere hello, not wanting to bother them with your presence. They were all men after all. You expected them to want bro time or whatever. Also, you were too busy being obsessed with men that didn’t exist in real life to pursue men that did exist in real life.

At least League of Legends had 3D models so no one could say you lived only the 2D lifestyle.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t partake when the dinner laid themselves out to be eaten. They often had to, because you wouldn’t pay attention otherwise.

Purple hair drifted into your vision, surrounding you in a curtain of violet and dark brown eyes, warm exhale and trembling pink lips, trapping you in Jungkook’s gaze, but you refused to relent, keeping your gaze even. Steady breaths to disguise your racing heart.

You kept your hands closed to prevent him from seeing your shaking fingers.

“Every time I see you, I want you to touch me,” he whispered, trying to hide the edge of nervousness by lowering his voice, enticing you to lean in to hear him better because someone was wiping a damn window in the living room outside your door or was that Kim Seokjin laughing?

There was no difference.

Jungkook’s forehead touched yours and you stopped thinking about Seokjin.

“I just want you to feel me up, rip my clothes off, and fuck me until I can’t think straight. Use me, abuse me, wreck me, ruin me,” he shuddered, definitely thinking about it, and one blink and you spied the obvious tent in his pants.

“Maybe I’m a lazy girl,” you finally said, touching your nose to his, inhaling his breath, a little bit of alcohol, a little bit of fruitiness, and that hint of cologne, fresh, clean, and intense. Something else too. Musk, maybe his pheromones or something like that. Whatever it was smelled fucking delicious, just like you. What did your perfume smell like? Spiced fire blended with addictive sweetness.

You shrugged casually.

“Maybe I’m a pillow princess.”

Jungkook chuckled.

“I can tell you’re not.”

You had to smirk.

Of course, you weren’t.

You closed your thighs around his knee and squeezed, raising to your tiptoes. He gasped softly, shivering at the simple touch of your soft thighs pressing around his muscular leg. It was disturbingly noisy out there, but here it was silent, pared down to your breathing and Jungkook’s breathing, mixing together, blazingly hot, closer, closer, doing the careful dance, daring each other to make the move that was so obviously going to happen.

“What are you gonna say when they ask you where you’ve been all this time?” you whispered, avoiding letting your lips brush against his.

“The truth.”

His tongue flickered out and barely touched your lips.

You didn’t make a sound.

Jungkook moaned, the sound drifting into your throat, and you could taste his desire.

“I tripped and fell into your lap.”

Your lips curved into a smirk.

He kissed you.

His hands on the armrests of your rolling chair, pushing it back into your desk, pressing his lips to yours, inhaling deeply, wanting to breathe you, wanting to taste you, wanting you, shivering as you finally touched him with your hands, but this was you, and your first touch wasn’t going to be wasted on a conventional innocent touch.

Your fingers closed in on his rock-hard erection and stroked him through his pants.

Jungkook moaned your name right in your mouth, eyes half-lidded, his violet hair encircling your face as he rolled his hips into your palm, whining deep in his chest.

“Fuck, yes, noona, play with me…”

You flitted your tongue between his lips and he chased it, begging you for more, and yet you continued to tease, light flicks between those soft pillows, nipping at them, even pushing up his lower lip so the tip of your tongue could draw a small heart around that mole, kissing it, so gentle, so delicate. His entire body shook, your hand palming his hardness through his pants, nails scraping against his balls, caressing all of it, acting like you owned it. Jungkook was certainly humping your hand like you did.

“You only want me because I didn’t want you,” you taunted, not bothering to hide your smirk and your slight disapproval.

“That’s not true,” he panted, attempting to get you to touch his chest, pushing you back into your chair, and yet you kept the fingers of your free hand on the cusp of what he wanted, heat close but no contact, causing him to whimper every time your fingernails barely nicked his skin. “I want you because you’re pretty, gorgeous, and hot as hell.”

Hm, that sounded familiar.

“I want you because I love watching you play your favorite games,” he chuckled, kissing the side of your lips, nose to nose. “I want you because I love that little smirk you make when you do something good. I want you because I love that aggressiveness that comes out and how you seem to lose your filter. Shit, it’s so fucking hot when you’re focused. Makes me wanna see your face when you’re pinning me down and having your way with me. Makes me want to obey you and disobey you at the same time, because I want you to reward me and punish me, I just can’t decide, fuck, you make life so hard for me.”

He punctuated hard by violently humping your hand, rattling your desk with his force.

Outside you heard Namjoon yelling “CANNONBALL” and throwing himself onto that giant gray furry beanbag you paid far too much for about six months ago. It was now a household party favorite, due to its massive size and fluffiness. At the moment, it sounded like a pile of six guys in semi-formal clothing was beginning and, instead of watching this heap of hot dudes being constructed, you were making out with the seventh guy’s face and grabbing his dick.

You’ll take this trade.

You felt Jungkook’s hands groping around, undoing his pants and the zipper, trying to get you to touch more, more, desperate for you to be all over him.

“P-Please… please, I don’t know when they’re going to notice…” he pleaded. “You’re so close, so close, ah, I can’t think, please…”

“Shh…” you soothed. “The door is locked.”

Your fingertips finally touched his chest, not disappointed in the slightest when you touched those delicious-looking pecs. They felt just as nice under your palm, his pounding heart and wanton moan vibrating up your arm.

“Aren’t you a needy little brat trying to distract me from my games, hm?”

Your fingertips hooked over the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“You’re going to have to face the consequences, Jungkook.”

You said his name like a delicious sweet about to be eaten, growl in your throat as you yanked down his underwear, capturing his lips, robbing him of his cries as you clawed down his chest, grasping his cock and pumping him, long, complete strokes from base to tip, curling your fingers around his balls, juggling them with your fingers teasingly as he squirmed and groaned. Your free arm shot around his back, digging your nails into his spine, not letting him get away. His black dress shirt was falling, falling to your floor, his bluish-purple hair in your face and his strong hands on your shoulders, sliding down, kneading your breasts through your clothes, whining that you were still wearing a bra – of course, you were, six dudes were coming over and they didn’t need to see your magnificent nipples on display, although clearly one of them wanted to see – and he was trying to get to the hem of your shirt, but you smacked his hands away, building the pressure and speed, pre-cum leaking between your fingers and adding slickness to lessen the dry friction.

Fuck, you could smell him and he smelled so fucking good.

“Noona, please…” Jungkook gasped, hands on the armrests of your chair, tipping his head back at the pleasure, pants at his fucking knees, chest, crotch, thighs on display. “This is… embarrassing…”

He meant him being mostly naked and you being dressed.

You shrugged, acting indifferent. “Not for me.”

He whimpered at your words, so noticeably dominant despite not using an aggressive or commanding tone. Either that or he was very invested in you jacking him off. You suspected it was a combination of the two, considering how eagerly his cock twitched when you answered.

“What should I do, Jungkook? Should I let you cum? Or should I play with you and stop, make you put your clothes back on and walk out there, desperate to be finished off?” you mused aloud, running your nails up his back, not that hard, but he leaned back into it so they sank into him, wordlessly begging you to do it harder, so you did, setting your jaw and scratching at his back, forcing him back into position. His cock throbbed in your hand, pulsating wildly.

Hm, he really loved it, huh.

“P-Please… wanna cum, please don’t be mean…” he gasped, thrusting his hips into your punishingly tight grip.

“Hm, why does it matter? You’ll just run to the bathroom and finish yourself off anyway, right?”

“Want you to do it, please,” he begged, his long hair curling around his jaw, dark purple locks framing the sharpness, lashes fluttering as you rubbed your thumb against the underside of the head, smearing pre-cum over the slit. “Your hand feels so good, so fucking good, better than I thought, please, I need you to touch me or I can’t get off, please…”

You removed your hand.

Jungkook cried out in denied despair, pitch hiking, the sinful sound clearly audible despite the debaucherously loud ruckus outside your bedroom door that included not one, but two people howling like werewolves for some unknown reason. At this point, you were mildly curious.

But you had a job to do.

He grabbed the front of your shirt, almost sobbing with need. Somehow his violet hair was a mess and you hadn’t even touched it. It cascaded over one of his eyes, an indigo curtain, the other chocolate orb shaking and pupil dilated, black prominent in the dark brown.

“Please don’t–”

You shoved two fingers from your right hand into that pleading mouth and raised your left.

He choked, gagging a little on your fingers.

You stuck your tongue out and licked your palm, slathering it with a thick layer of slick saliva.

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the dirty action and then rolled back into his head as you wrapped your hand around his aching cock once more, now covered in saliva, swiftly and fervently jacking him off, hard, fast, tight, nearly choking his cock, pushing his chin up and his chest to your hungry mouth, tongue and teeth and lips, all over those dark nipples hardening under your persistent touch, heedless to his rising moans, so very obvious now what was happening in your bedroom.

It didn’t bother you at all. Jungkook walked in here and asked you to wreck and ruin him, so you did exactly what he asked you to do, leaving harsh bite marks and slippery saliva all over his soft skin, your perfume rubbing off onto his body, coating his chest in your scent and his pulsating thick length with your spit, and he was so fucking hard that you were impressed, feeling his mouth suck on your fingers desperately and wetly, your name a messy garble above your head.

“Fuck, yes, umpf, oh fuck, I’m so close, so close, gonna cum, goona cum for you…!”

“Jungkook?”

You had no idea who called his name through your door, because the next second Jungkook was pitching forward and shooting his cum up your thigh and chest, thick white strings painting your leggings and band t-shirt, soaking into the fabric and creating a sticky mess on your skin, your head lifting in response to his movement to avoid knocking into him, your fingers sliding out of his lips, strings of saliva snapping as they left, and suddenly Jungkook’s face was in your face, his lips on yours in a passionate kiss, rutting into your hand to increase the sensitivity, shoulders and hips flinching, whimpering gratitude and ecstasy into your mouth, his hands in your hair, kissing you deeper, more ravenously, ignoring the questioning voices, lost in the pleasure of his orgasm.

You heard Namjoon say outside your door, “I think he made his move.”

You asshole, at least warn me, you thought irritably.

“You’re so good… so good, exactly what I need… I knew you would be… fuck…”

You thrust your tongue into his lips once and backed off, chuckling as he whined for more.

“Go ask for a shirt.”

Jungkook shook his head rapidly, violet hair flying everywhere. Your hand was still wrapped around his semi-hard cock, his cum dripping onto your wrist. His ears were turning red.

“I can’t… They know something is going on…” he mumbled, scooting closer to you, as if your body heat could somehow mask the fact that you just jacked him off with six of his friends standing outside your bedroom door whispering.

“Maybe you wanted them to know.”

You squeezed his ass and he trembled, clutching your shoulders.

“Easy way to tell them that you want to be owned by me, right?”

You could tell by the way his eyes were darting around rapidly that the thought crossed his mind more than once.

“Jungkook.”

You said it loud enough for a keen ear to hear it if they were really eavesdropping. You looked up at Jungkook, his eyes immediately fixating on yours because of your tone.

In control, not to be questioned.

“Get on your knees.”

Dead silence outside your bedroom.

“B… but…”

His cheeks flushed pink.

You took his chin and pulled him down to your face, murmuring to that mole under his lips, pecking it daintily, almost innocently, his wispy moan drifting over your nose. Your words were barely above a whisper, only for him.

“You made a mess. Clean it up.”

You stroked Jungkook’s chin with your thumb, your other hand tucking his long hair behind his ear.

“I’ll let you sleep in my bed tonight, so be a good boy for me right now and I’ll let you be a bad boy in bed.”

His head tilted and Jungkook whispered your name into your mouth, drenched with desire.

You smirked, stroking his jaw fondly.

He got to his knees, in between your open thighs, leaning forward, subservient eyes on your face as his pink tongue extended, licking at his own cum staining your clothes, eyes closing at your hand on the top of his head, not directing the movement, but reminding him who was in charge here, reminding him with nails in his scalp that he was going to be fucked until he couldn’t think straight.

Used, abused, wrecked, ruined.

-

“I don’t wanna.”

“We both know you do.”

“But I want to fuck you,” Jungkook protested, speaking softly because everyone was sleeping, or at least it seemed that way, not that either you or Jungkook cared, because you were forcing him to his knees on your bed, pushing his torso back, nails digging into his chest, towering over him, his naked body already covered in your bites and scratches, focused on his inner thighs and chest, none on his neck because that’s where he wanted it the most.

And you knew it.

“Noona, please…”

He said please a lot for someone who did not, in fact, want to be pleased, but tortured.

You grabbed him by the chin, cocking an eyebrow.

His hands were behind him, arms shaking as they held him up, shivering delightfully under your petrifying gaze.

“Please what? Hm? Saying please when you come crawling into my room, begging for dirty things with your friends right outside, saying please when you interrupt me and distract me, jeopardizing my chances to win my game?”

You leaned in close, you knowing you were only crafting a scene, him knowing that you didn’t actually care, but Jungkook wanted to hear the words, wanted you to put that malice in your tone to caress his ears, wanted you to cannibalize his sanity and put him in a different headspace, his cock already responding to it, bobbing in the air, purple-red and achingly hard from multiple orgasms, and he still wanted more.

“Saying please so you can say please when you’re under me, helplessly begging me to let you cum?”

You could hear his whines vibrating under your fingertips, pupils blown wide, lower lip trembling, begging you already, such a needy little thing, those lovely brown eyes full of submission, muscles tense with anticipation, every passing second spiraling him into increased frustration, because instead of doing anything, you were only smirking wider and wider, pushing his head back.

“Well? Tell me if you’re a dirty boy or not. Maybe I’ll do what you want.”

His violet hair cascaded to his shoulder blades, his low moan coursing through your fingertips and the heated air of your bedroom.

“Y… Yes, I’m a d-dirty boy…”

“Noona,” you prompted.

Just because you could.

His lips curved into an open smile, two of your fingers hooked over his lower lip, fingertips rubbing his tongue. Your thumb nail pressed into his mole.

“Noona.”

You ripped the condom open with your teeth, which was not advisable unless you were the kind of person that practiced that for hours on end, spending an obscene amount of money on unused condoms to perfect your technique, because nobody wants a broken condom or lube in their teeth. Why would you want to learn such a thing? You were a stickler for details. A perfectionist in perfecting a perfect display of raw dominance.

You spat out the torn corner onto Jungkook’s chest and he whimpered, unashamedly amazed.

Your left hand removed the condom from the package and your right slid out of his mouth and encircled his neck.

You inspected the condom, lazily turning it to the correct position, fingers pressed to the sides of his neck, leaving plenty of space for his trachea between your thumb and forefinger. You didn’t bother looking at his face. Instead, you spread your legs, poised and naked over him and his throbbing cock.

Your right hand started choking him.

Your left hand started rolling the condom down his thick, hard length.

Your name leaked out of his lips in a thin gurgle, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Say please, Jungkook.”

A sharp, distinct order.

“P… Please…” he gasped out, chest shuddering.

Your hand tightened around his throat and your pussy clenched around his cock as you forced yourself down on him.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck…”

You didn’t bother asking if he liked it. His vicious fisting of your sheets and trembling body, cries and cock included, told you everything you needed to know. You only watched the color of his cheeks, knowing there were limits to how long you could choke him. Therefore there was no time to be wasted, already starting your favorite pace, rough and hard, filling yourself with that delicious cock built to take your abuse, jaw set, gripping his throat, blood pounding under your fingertips, slapping hips to crotch, heat sparking though your veins, hotter, hotter, your smirk growing more and more smug, tongue tracing your lips as you witnessed Jungkook’s descent into sin, raising his head so he could watch you bounce on his cock with hazed brown orbs, mouth open, tongue lolling out, circulation thinning, purple hair wild around that cute, distressed face.

You let up the pressure on his neck, dark snicker rumbling in your chest.

“This pussy worth it, brat?”

The rush of missing blood into his brain, the suffocating pleasure of your pulsating walls wrapped around his twitching cock, your authoritative growl and merciless words tearing through him – you saw it all taking over Jungkook, forced to respond honestly from pure instinct because there was no time to compile pretty words or a smart comeback.

“Yes, noona, yes, I love it, I love it, this brat fucking loves what you do to him…”

You immediately choked him again and slapped your pussy onto his cock like you were whipping him.

His eyes rolled back and a wild moan tore out of his chest, cut off by your hand.

The bed creaked under you, bearing the weight of your roughness.

“I know you love it,” you snarled, leaning in, fucking him into your bed with vigor, straining his knees, so uncomfortable and so comfortable for him at the same time, pain and pleasure, clearly something he craved and loved from how hard he was. “You said you need me to touch you or you can’t get off.”

You knew that couldn’t be true.

Jungkook probably got off hundreds of times thinking about you, otherwise he wouldn’t be so ecstatic about you violently riding his dick right now.

His teeth sank into his swollen lower lip, staring at you through his lashes, his voice a thin whisper laced with insatiable need.

“I can’t cum without you anymore.”

You removed your hand.

Your hips stopped abruptly, fulling sheathing his cock inside you.

“No!”

His shout was so loud and desperate that you had to conceal your surprise, not expecting the frantic ferocity of his tone, nearly an agonized sob as he grabbed your upper arms in a crushing grip, his indigo locks crashing into his high cheekbones, sticking to his sweaty face and sharp jaw. It took everything in you to stay calm, everything to not give in and let him have what he wanted. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was knowing the role you were playing, maybe it was the sadistic side of you, who the fuck knew, but there was only a beat of hesitation, a second of you staring into those beautiful dark brown eyes, so perfect.

Just perfect.

Perfectly wrecked, willing to do anything in this moment for you to continue.

Before he could utter a peep of a plea, you shook out of his grip and seized his head, crashing his lips onto your neck.

Jungkook bit you.

Instant, searing pain, taking out all his sexual frustration on your neck, sucking at the skin, hot tongue lapping, groaning, moaning, half-crying because you didn’t move. You just sat on his dick and forced his mouth onto your neck, gleefully savoring his despair, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the pleasure, his hands and nails digging into your waist, his teeth latched to the side of your throat, his stiff cock shuddering inside you, your tight heat keeping him hard but not letting him cum, repeatedly squeezing the engorged head brutally, driving him insane.

Insane.

You could feel his lips move, but you muffled his words, pushing his head into your neck.

Please.

Deep inhale, his wonderful scent filling your nose.

Please.

Riding the high that was Jungkook’s desire for you, fingers tangled into violet strands.

Please.

He felt so, so good, spoon-feeding the dom in you with his tiny whimpers and distraught sniffles.

“P… Please…”

You pressed your lips to his hair, murmuring his name sweetly.

“Jungkook.”

No quiver to your tone, only serene calm.

“Noona…”

His hands slid up your back as your hips began to rock, slow, so painfully slow, building the frenzy layer by layer, his hardness swelling inside you, his soft lips pressed to his hickey onto your neck, even more turned on because he knew you let him mark you, he knew in this moment you were his and only his, everything he wanted and more, his hips rising to meet yours, deepening your thrusts, matching your force, burying his face into your skin and your scent, wanting nothing more than your command over his body.

You turned his head, tucking his hair behind one ear, speaking dark whispers into that curve.

“You look the best when on your knees for me, Jungkook.”

He shivered, your name falling sloppily from his lips, drunk from your power and lost in his service.

You let go of his head and grabbed his shoulders instead, putting all of your weight onto him, now letting yourself chase it, chase the orgasm that you had been building for yourself all this time, letting yourself feel Jungkook and feel the full force of the pleasure he gave you, because, yes, of course, you served him first before you, even if it didn’t seem like it.

Because when it came down to it, Jungkook came to you, opening himself petal by petal to show you his vulnerable side, testing the waters, hoping, wishing, praying that maybe, just maybe, you were the kind of person that he was expecting, wanting, needing, and you, knowing how difficult that was because, well, you had made it difficult, only focusing on games and not on those longing eyes that watched you whenever you came into his view.

Eyes that you looked into now.

Half-lidded, glazed over, fucked-out, still honest.

His large hands were still on your waist, holding you to him as you rode him with furious slaps, muscles flexed in his chest and arms, tattoos on his right arm tense and taut from holding this position for so long. He looked so good. Felt so good. Had an amazing cock.

And fuck.

Jungkook had a cute face.

You genuinely smiled.

“I’ll take care of everything,” you drawled, injecting your words with conviction and adoration.

That did it.

His lips parted, low groan emitting from his throat as his head tipped back, purple waterfalling onto his back, thrusting up into you and shooting into the condom with fierce jolts, unable to hold back any longer, his entire length flinching uncontrollably, sweet whimpers at his release, feeling sorry that he didn’t let you cum first, but that didn’t matter, because you rode through it, already there, falling, falling, your sigh like laden smoke as your orgasm slammed into you, welcoming the bolts of cruel pulses flying through you, concentrated onto your core, Jungkook’s moans hiking into pitched ecstasy at the convulsing clenches of his oversensitive, overused cock, arms embracing you tightly, hugging you for dear life, chest to chest, pounding heart against yours.

Your fingers tangled into his hair.

His hand fitted around your head.

Lips to lips and you took care of everything, claiming that mouth as yours, holding him up even though you were the one in his lap, your kiss onto that perfect mole under that pretty pout, cherishing every mumble of your name, lowering him onto your pillows, soft kisses in between. You took care of everything, lifting yourself off him, chuckling as he whined, pawing for you to come back, but you rapped his knuckles and calmed him, removing the condom and cleaning him off gently with a towel, soft kisses in between because he wanted the attention, deliberately not closing his eyes until you crawled back into the bed, tucking the covers around you and him, Jungkook immediately turning and yanking you into his chest, nose against your skin.

“Who’s the pillow princess?” you teased, ruffling his long violet locks.

His lips pressed onto your hickey, his mark on you, and he sighed in content, drifting into sleep.

-

In the morning, you found a pile of five guys in the living room sleeping in various positions on the giant gray furry beanbag and the sofa. Jungkook was in your bed, passed out. The last guy, Min Yoongi, was in Kim Namjoon’s room, sleeping on his bed, because he was a smart man and took advantage of a perfectly good bed that five drunk hooligans undoubtedly forgot about.

You chuckled and rubbed your neck as you brushed your teeth, seeing yourself and the large purple hickey Jungkook had made last night in the bathroom mirror.

You went back to your room after retrieving the sewing basket from the living room, spending the morning calmly stitching the small buttons back onto his black dress shirt as the seven guys in your apartment continued to snore away.

Then you went back to playing League of Legends.

Ah, Cassiopeia, I had an eventful evening, but I have returned to you.

-

drabble morning-after hungover breakfast

--

masterpost

[harlowsbby]

Possessive

You loved how possessive and over protective Jack got with you because it meant that he loved you but sometimes he took it way too far.

You were currently at the club with Neelam and Jack and them you were dancing with Neelam and taking videos of each other for your Instagram stories Jack sat in the booth with Urban and Druski as he watched you most people might’ve found this creepy but not Jack you were his girl and it was his job to watch you.

Everything was going wonderful I took a group of guys walked up to you and Neelam and that’s when Jack’s eyes turned black he was going to react but Urban shook his head no knowing it could fuck up Jack’s career.

“Common Jack stop Y/N’s got this handled I know how she is and so do you.” Urban stated

“Yeah Jack your career is just now starting to take off more the last thing you need to deal with is a court case.” Druski stated as he took another shot of alcohol. Jack agreed with them both and leaned back into the booth he had a deadly grip on the table but decided to watch and see how everything was going to unfold.

“Well hello ladies your names must be gorgeous and beautiful because that’s exactly what you two women are.” The ginger haired man smirked at you and Neelam. Neelam cowered back behind you usually Neelam was the one to defend you both but she had way to many shot to even comprehend what was going on.

“One my name is Y/N and two I got a man so fuck off.” You sneered at the ginger haired man and his friend next to him couldn’t help but laugh at your so called attempted to be tough.

“Why don’t you cut the wannabe tough girl act beautiful and let’s go somewhere private where we can have some fun.” The curly haired man whispered into your ear as his tongue licked your earlobe that’s when Jack got up immediately about to make his way towards you.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me you fucking creep I tried to be nice and tell you I had a man but since you wanna act like you don’t understand the words coming out of my mouth I’ll let my man handle you.” You stated and smirked as you felt Jack’s presence behind you.

“Are you okay baby girl ?” Jack mumbled as he pushed Neelam gently towards the security officer. You nodded and pouted looking up towards Jack as he towered over you due to the height difference.

“This creepy man was bugging me and Neelam and he was making me very unfortunate Jack and he licked my ear.” You said as you put on your best innocent act smiling as the curly haired man looked up at Jack in fear.

“You want me to handle it baby girl ?” Jack mumbled into your ear and you nodded wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss which Jack returned and he depended it showing the man just who you belonged too.

Once Jack pulled away he looked at the curly haired man who was very much shaking in-front on Jack.

“Urban take Y/N and Neelam to the car I’ll be right back alright ?” Jack told Urban as he lead the guy towards the back of the club. You smirked and you and Neelam skipped happily to the car.

Once in the car Neelam was already knocked out laying across of Urban and Druski was asleep as well you were about to fall asleep when the door opened revealing Jack. You immediately sat onto his lap wrapping your legs around him.

“I missed you baby.” You mumbled and pecked his lips as Jack pecked yours back as well.

“I missed you too mamas.” You smiled at Jack as you drew circles on his chest with your finger.

“Thank you for always protecting me Jack I appreciate it so much.” You said as you laid your head on his chest feeling his grip tighten on you.

“Ima always protect you baby girl it’s my job as your man and you’re my women forever and always.” Jack said as he rested his head against yours.

You guys rode back in silence to the hotel as Jack replayed the image of him beating the absolute shit out of both of the guys he smirked knowing they’d never speak knowing they’d have to deal with the consequences.

@iamfezcosblunt

[nevermindirah]

Yitzhak!

is a character! who Gregadiah What-Is-Math Rucka gave us almost no information about!

I've gone through Tales Through Time #6: The Bear and #1: My Mother's Axe with several magnifying glasses and done a lot of googling and taken my copy of the Tanakh off my shelf for the first time since (well, since the last time I needed to read Torah for TOG reasons, which I think was Booker Passover headcanons) and here's the best I can come up with.

In The Bear we meet someone who goes by the name Isaac Blue:

Read on for a lot of comic panel analysis and historical research and Jewish flailing!

So what do we know about this Isaac Blue person?

He's Lorge, he's got curly hair, he's basically a taller version of Joe as drawn by Leandro Fernández (ie an antisemitic stereotype why the fuck did they approve this character design?? and then why did they double down and copy-paste it to Yitzhak??):

He's got a mezuzah on the doorpost of his house in Alaska!

I screamed about the mezuzah way back in January in this post where I (very reasonably) assumed this character was Joe and spun myself a tale about how Booker is still Joe's brother so the mezuzah stays up even though Booker isn't welcome in that house for a century. Bottom line: the mezuzah is a tradition with origins in the commandment from Deuteronomy 6:9 to "write the words of G-d on the gates and doorposts of your house" and evolved over the course of the Rabbinic period into the modern mezuzah we see here.

I did unnecessary levels of google image search to glean absolutely no useful information about Yitzhak’s origins from this panel:

I've decided the variant cover of TTT 6 is Yitzhak because of a panel in My Mother’s Axe, shown here, and what's likely an unnecessarily deep reading of Exodus, discussed further down:

The person at the right of the bottom panel is wearing the same clothes as in the TTT 6 variant cover and has the same shoulder-length curly hair and hairy forearms.

Left to right, the people in this panel are Lykon (I'll never get used to him being white in the comics), Andy, Noriko (I think? why doesn't Andy mention her by name here?), and Yitzhak. Andy's robe has a stereotypically Greek design on the sleeve cuff, and I had to stop myself 10 minutes into a Wikipedia rabbit hole because Gregorforth doesn't think that deep about this shit. The solid clues as to timeline that we get in this panel are:

Andy's iron axe

the presence of Lykon, who Andy first met in 331 BCE

So all we know is that Yitzhak is an immortal, he was a contemporary of Lykon, and he's Jewish.

Isaac is the most common Anglicization of Yitzhak (which in turn is the most common Anglophone transliteration of יִצְחָק‎), and Greg always uses the (transliterated) Hebrew when he refers to this character. Yitzhak is the long-awaited child of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis, the child who G-d commanded Abraham to sacrifice but spared at the last minute. I see what you did there, Gregory.

Why Isaac Blue? This is where I pulled out my Tanakh. According to the New JPS translation, blue is the first of three colors of yarn listed in Exodus 35:6 among the gifts requested of the Israelites to construct the priestly garments for the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Then in Numbers 15:38 the Israelites are commanded to "make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner."

And now for sandbox timelines party! Gregadiah gave us ALMOST NOTHING to go on, so I'm gonna make my own fun.

I, like many modern Jews, think the stories in the Tanakh are foundational mythology that are valuable because of how they've shaped our people but that contain some fucked-up shit and either way aren't meant to be a record of historical facts. Modern scholarship generally agrees that the community we now call Jews emerged as a distinct group of Canaanites sometime in the late Bronze Age (cw this video's host says the Name of G-d aloud despite being a religious studies scholar who knows that is not a name anyone but the Temple priests are allowed to say). The first non-Biblical written record of the people Israel is from an Egyptian source c. 1200 BCE, and the Biblical kingdom of David and Solomon was probably an exaggeration of whatever really happened during the Bronze Age Collapse. We start getting into historical-fact territory a few centuries into the Iron Age:

588 BCE Solomon's Temple destroyed, Babylonian exile begins

538 BCE Cyrus of Persia allows Jews to return to Jerusalem

515 BCE Second Temple construction complete

332 BCE Alexander the Great At Something I Guess conquered Judea, beginning the Hellenistic period of Jewish history — 331 BCE Andy & Lykon find each other

167 BCE another jerkface Greek king desecrated the Temple and basically outlawed Judaism

164 BCE recapture of Jerusalem and Temple rededication during the Maccabean Revolt

70 CE destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, beginning of the Rabbinic period of Jewish history that we're still in now

What if... and hear me out... what if immortals come in pairs, and the pairs are:

Andy & Quynh

Joe & Nicky

Booker & Nile

LYKON & YITZHAK

What if Yitzhak was a priest of the Second Temple? What if he and Lykon killed each other just like Joe and Nicky would in the same city around 1300 years later, but instead of enemies-to-lovers speedrun with an absurdly long happily-ever-after, when Lykon died permanently Yitzhak decided to separate from Andy and Noriko and become the hermit we later see in Alaska?

We don't know how old Yitzhak is compared to the others, only that he was a contemporary of Lykon at a time when Andy was using an Iron Age version of her mother's axe. Other plausible origins for him:

a Jew of the early Rabbinic period, maybe a child or grandchild of people who were still alive before the Second Temple was destroyed

a Judean of the Second Temple era under the Romans or Greeks or Persians, maybe a priest, maybe not

an exilee in Babylon, maybe of the generation who got to return, maybe of the generation who was exiled (he doesn't look like he was 50 at his first death but who knows, he could've been mortal for both)

an Israelite of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, maybe a priest of Solomon's Temple or again maybe not

an Israelite wandering in the desert with Moses

THEE Yitzhak, ben Avraham v'Sarah, our patriarch who was brought up for sacrifice and then spared, and then spared again, and then spared again, and again, and again...

or! he could also be a Canaanite or other Levantine who predates the people Israel, who at some point in his very long life chose to join our mixed multitude, who like Andromache before him (and like Avram and Sarai would in this case do after him) took a new name to reflect the magnitude of influence this people has had on him

Why do I keep saying Yitzhak might have been a priest? It's thanks to the one detail in the artwork I could plausibly connect to solid research without getting a PhD real quick. Take a look at the gorgeous detail on the opening of his robe in the TTT 6 cover. He's dressed in rags, holes and dirt everywhere, rough stitches probably from hasty repair work — except for the neck opening. Compare that to this description from Exodus 39:23 of the construction of the priestly garments for the Tabernacle: "The opening of the robe, in the middle of it, was like the opening of a coat of mail, with a binding around the opening, so that it would not tear."

The next verses describe the intricate designs for the hem of the priestly garment. Yitzhak's ragged garment looks like the hem was torn off entirely.

Am I overthinking this? Yes I am! You're welcome!

My friend and historical research hero @lady-writes​ is in a Discord server with Gregadiah and asked the man himself some questions about all this. He clearly thinks he's being sneaky?? No shit Yitzhak is Jewish, dude, I want DETAILS!

I will not be giving up my Jewish Booker headcanon, I've put too much thought into it by now, the internalized shame of antisemitism explains Booker's depression too well for me, and it just adds so much richness to Booker/Nile both being children of forced diasporas. Fortunately (for him, not me, bc I'd do it anyway!) Gregothy supports fan headcanons even when they're not in line with his own:

One last thing before I close like 100 research tabs and go back to writing historical fantasy and/or porn! I love that, despite that atrocious caricature of a face design, our canon Jew and our fanon Jew are both Lorge and Soft and Kind, flying the face of the antisemitic stereotype of Ashkenazi Jewish men as small and weak, but also not falling into the New Jew / Muscle Jew stereotype that Zionism created. (I am trying SO HARD not to talk about Israel/Palestine for once ughhhhhhhhhh) Anyway here's a (US-centric but very good) primer on both these stereotypes of Jewish masculinity. Is this why I'm forever projecting my transmasc diasporist feels onto Jewish Booker the service sub? 🤷🏻‍♂️

I’ll reblog a second version of this with full image descriptions so that there’s a version accessible for folks who need IDs as well as a version accessible for folks who get overwhelmed by walls of text.

[iamjungkooked]

Until My Last Breath

↳Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

↳Genre: Smut (mild), Romance, Angst

↳Word count: 13.4k

↳Warnings: swearing, mild oral sex (f receiving), way too much making out, grinding (sort of?), mention of death. More than all of this Jeongguk is just fucking delicious in this fic (that’s the biggest warning i can give you)

↳Rating: 18+ (Don’t read if you are underage)

↳AU: werewolf! Jungkook + human OC

↳Summary: Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect.

(Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾

Your hands hurt from holding the grocery bags. Mrs. Jeon did offer her help but you refused because she has so much to do. If anything Jimin should have accompanied you considering that he’s always going on about how he’d marry you if he could.

Alas, he wasn’t there either because being the beta of the pack meant he had to run morning training and education with the younger children since Jungkook wasn’t there. Generally this was something the alpha of the pack would do-- but Mr. Jeon was busy with the politics of the werewolf and human world. Had Jungkook been here he would have been running the session seeing as he is next in line to be alpha of the pack. But he was miles away on the other side of the country. He has been for five years and truth be told you can’t even remember what his face looks like anymore.

With thoughts such as that the only accompaniment, you march along with as much energy you can muster at each step. The house comes into view. Once again with no other company but your own to entertain yourself you take a drip down memory lane. You remember the awe you first felt when Mr. Jeon brought you to the house. Your father had just passed away while on a drug raid. Mr. Jeon being his best friend brought you with him.

In the early days, the entire family tried to hide their secret. But then on a full moon, you curiously followed Jungkook out and watched as he transformed from man into a beast. Initially, you wanted to scream with horror, but the air got stuck in your throat when he began approaching you. Rooted to the spot and with no escape, Jungkook-- rather his wolf form nuzzled his nose against your neck and whimpered. The fear was gone just like that. All night long, you accompanied him, roaming the forest behind the house getting into all sorts of trouble. When the effect of the full moon began to fade during the early hours of the morning you remember sneaking back into the house and rummaging through his room to get him clothes for when he transformed back.

You kick the giant black gate open and walk down the cemented pathway flanked on either side by lawns outlined with a variety of flowers. To your left was the gazebo that Mr. Jeon built when you were sixteen as a birthday present because that happened to be your obsession at the time.

As the foyer nears, you see a huge commotion outside. It seemed everyone and their mother was present. With urgency in your steps only worsened by curiosity, you reach in no time. You stand on your tiptoes to get a view of what was happening, however, the five grocery bags in your hands weigh you down.

Momentarily the crowd parts. You see the outline of a face that isn’t recognizable-- the hoodie covering half the profile.

“What is going on?” you gather the courage to speak loudly against the chatter of the crowd.

It is loud enough to get the talking to stop and everyone turns to you, including the mysterious stranger.

He pulls his hoodie down.

The grocery bags drop from your hands, just as your mouth hangs open.

“Jungkook is back!” one of the kids tugs at your arm in excitement.

Well shit. You never could have recognized him even if someone planted his younger version of right next to him. He is probably just shy of 6 feet tall. Although engulfed in a black crewneck, you could tell he was built. His dark wash ripped blue jeans contour his thighs to perfection and just when you think he couldn’t have changed further you notice his hair. He had gone off and gotten himself an undercut. His hair was on the longer side, and it was parted to the left of his head while the undercut was visible on the right. He had even gone so far as to get tattoos that adorned his fingers, and his forearm-- a music note. Well now you were fucked because how could you ever resist a man with that kind of hairstyle and tattoos.

Correction, how could you resist a fucking werewolf who wears an undercut and has tattoos?

“Y/n?” he speaks and you swear you could have heard angels speaking to you.

You keep mum. In fact, you can’t even hear him. You’re too busy undressing him with your eyes. Your heart pounds, your knees feel weak because this man is simply too gorgeous to exist. How the hell is everyone else standing on their two feet while you feel like you’re going to fall any moment?

You say something. You have no idea what exactly because your ears are ringing, but you know something comes out of your mouth which causes everyone around you to giggle. You might as well just turn around and go hide somewhere because you’ve probably made a fool of yourself.

“Huh” comes his deep voice, but it’s faint. His remark only makes you wonder what you spat out.

“It’s hot” you fan yourself with your hand. Your mouth is parched, dry like the desert. “You--  Wow. You look--nice to--- welcome. I mean, g-good— to” you look at him, and pause to collect your thoughts. “Good to have you back. I think...” you are completely breathless and dazed by the end of that word salad. Your forehead scrunches in a frown as you try to shake away the magic spell his presence has cast on you. You don’t even bother to wait for a response as you run back down the pathway you came. You follow it out of the gate and turn the corner. A few paces up the hill you come upon the gated entrance to the forest.

You hear someone calling you out, but you’re a damn mess. You aren’t willing to let anyone see you like that. You run as far into the forest as your legs will carry you-- far, far, away from him.

You can finally understand the phrase “avoid like the plague” because that’s what you have been doing to Jungkook. For the past four days since he has been back, you have done anything and everything you can to avoid him. If you see him in the house, you immediately make a u-turn for your room. If you see him outside, you hide behind anything you can find-- a pillar, a bush, a tree, a car, another fucking human being.

Of course it doesn’t help that everyone tries to keep pushing you to him. Well, mostly his parents. But also random people like the ladies in Mrs. Jeon’s book club who on Saturday made a spectacle out of you.

“Come on, pose for a photo” they had said when they saw you and Jungkook out and about the house. You weren’t even looking at one another when they swarmed you and him, taking you by the arm and making you stand next to one another. They didn’t even ask nicely-- no. They demanded that you and Jungkook take a photo because apparently you two look amazing together. Despite your protests, and vigorous head shaking-- they basically pushed you to him, and thankfully he managed to steady you on your feet by catching your waist.

His arm around your waist as he holds you flush against him and your hand on his forearm while you two looked at one another-- that’s the picture they took. You may as well have just gotten a whole fucking photoshoot done while you were at it.

“Y/n’s probably always had a crush on him” one of the ladies, Mrs. Ri had mentioned while all the others including Mrs Jeon crowded around to look at the picture on the camera.

A tomato couldn’t be more red than you and that's saying something. All Jungkook did in response was shrug at you like he was enjoying it. Normally a man might object to being treated this way. But he didn’t utter a single word. Only he looked quite amused by the whole situation and your reaction as he smiled and chuckled to himself.

On the other hand, his parents always mentioned in his absence that they would love if you and him got together. You never paid any mind to those conversations in particular because it was Jungkook— atleast how you remembered him before he became a fucking Adonis. Not that it’s the only thing that matters. But you just never felt this way before, and now you do.

You tiptoe through the house while everyone is busy at this time of day. Mrs.Jeon is probably with all the other ladies for their book club, Mr.Jeon no doubt is in his study and Jimin is probably with Jungkook, training.

It sucks to be the only human sometimes because they can always hear you, and know what you’re thinking. But you can’t do the same. It makes you feel vulnerable. But everyone is good at reminding you about how lucky you are to be human.

You traipse through the living room, peeking behind from walls here and there to make sure Jungkook isn’t around because if you see him you’re sure you’ll lose your shit. Again.

There is a certain chunk of the wooden floor that creaks under pressure so you take care to avoid it. Because in case Jungkook is anywhere inside the house he’ll hear it.

Creak

“Fuck” you mutter, shutting your eyes tight and carefully lifting your toes from the damned spot which makes another sound.

You hear footsteps on the stairs behind you. Too scared to move, you straighten up.

“I was wondering when I’ll see you again” comes Jungkook’s voice.

“Heeeyyy” you turn around, plastering a smile on your face and it screams fake.

“Four days huh. Good job” Jungkook looks impressed as he comes down to ahalt at the last step . “How did you manage to avoid me for four whole days? I am curious”

“You knew”

“Of course I knew” he’s mouth moves as he chews gum, one brow raised at you, looking absolutely devilish (in the best way possible). “Too bad the streak has come to end” he places his hands in pockets lining his black sweats.

Well fuck. No point in denying it anymore then.

“If it wasn’t for this stupid floor I could have gone the whole week. Probably” you decide to give in instead of pretending you have no idea what he’s talking about.

He steps towards you, one corner of his mouth curved up in a sly smirk. “That would never happen. You’d have made a mistake at some point before that”

“Maybe” you shrug. You’re so surprised that you’re able to find your words this time. “Welcome back by the way” you offer a genuine smile, trying to make up for that botched attempt when he first arrived.

“Thanks. It’s good to be back” he sighs contentedly. “I missed this place and the people.” he looks around and then his gaze comes to rest on you. “Well, one person in particular” he looks you straight in the eyes.

“Your mom” you reply. He loves his mother.

“Yes. But also someone else”

“Who?” curiosity gets the best of you.

“Just someone” he shrugs.

You’re about to respond when Jimin comes in. “What are you two doing here?” he looks at Jungkook as he stops next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

Wordlessly, Jungkook’s eyes change color from his hazel brown to icy blue. He steps towards you and Jimin, and then pulls Jimin’s hand away from your shoulder. He looks at the boy, jaw grinding as he chews gum. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” his voice is calm, but his eyes are absolutely terrifying since they harbour a cold, mean look. They change back to brown in an instant once Jimin nods. You notice how tense Jimin looks but he walks with Jungkook anyway.  

They’re probably only gone for thirty seconds. But when they come back their body language is completely relaxed. They look like two pals reunited after years.

“Everything okay?” you ask Jimin.

“Yeah. All good” he nods. “I was just congratulating him”

“What for?” you look between the two of them, feeling awfully suspicious.

Jimin is about to open his mouth when he catches Jungkook’s gaze. Jungkook shakes his head and you notice, at which point you turn to him. “Fine. I don’t want to know” you huff. You start towards the back door which leads to the backyard where Mrs. Jeon is with her friends.

Just a couple steps in, you’re tugged back. You turn around to find Jungkook holding onto your wrist. There is something about the way he looks at you. You’ve seen this look before in movies—it’s the way the hero looks at the heroine when he thinks she isn’t looking. It’s soft, but it’s wanting-- a complete contrast from the way he glared the life out of Jimin just minutes ago. He looks like he’s got something to say, but he’s holding back.

“What is it?” your voice is quiet, like you’re too scared to speak out. As if your voice will give away the crazy whirlwind of emotions in your chest.

“Nothing” he blinks and lets go of your wrist. “See ya around” he turns on his heels and walks the other way as Jimin follows him.

The woods at this time of the night are majestic. Moonlight bathes the tops of trees in a silver glow. The moonlight filters through gaps in tree branches, and covers the ground in a white sheen. It looks nothing short of magical.There is a slight chill in the wind, but it’s nothing you aren’t used to. The fallen leaves crunch under your feet. Sounds of crickets chirping, owls hooting fills the air.

You walk through the pathway bordered on each side by large trees the branches of which meet in the middle above you, forming an archway. You feel safe in the womb of nature like you’re protected and nothing could touch you. Without fear, it’s easier for you to take in everything. The air you breathe feels fresh, and crisp. If you could, you would make time stop so you could stay in the woods at night and never have to leave.

As each step carries you further into the woods, you feel more and more at peace. The trees become more lush the further you go. The animals are more noticeable deep into the forest. You see squirrels running around the trees, there are bird nests high up in the branches. You can hear mockingjays in these parts of the forest too.

You stop by the clearing in the woods. This side of the woods is your favorite. You sit against the trunk of one of the trees, resting your head. You look at nothing in particular in the sky. It’s clear above you, with a full moon shining. Your mind immediately goes back to Jungkook as you gaze upon it. You feel tortured every time your thoughts turn to him. You don’t know if it’s normal for you to want to cry, but you’re already shedding tears. Your quiet sobs accompany the sounds of nature. The weight seems to be lifting off your shoulders, and it feels easier to breathe. But then you think of him and that someone he mentioned. It causes you to sob even harder. You hiccup, using the back of your hands to wipe away the tears.

“What’s wrong?”

You can’t forget that voice. You look up at Jungkook as he stands with his hands in his jean pockets.

You shake your head. “Nothing. I just-- I miss--” you begin to cry again. “I-I miss my dad” another sob escapes your throat.

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks in a soft voice, which makes you want to cry even harder. “Please”

You nod.

He comes over, sits down next to you and gathers you in his arms. He pulls you into himself, wrapping your arm around his side, as he holds you. You place your cheek against his chest as you hold him close. It may have started because of him, but it continues because you do miss your dad. The moment you said “dad” was when you knew you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

“I am sorry y/n” he strokes the back of your head. “I really am” he sniffles.

You pull back to find tears staining his cheeks. “Why are you crying?” you look up at him.

His gaze is locked onto yours. “Because, I can feel what you feel”

“Sorry. I forgot you’re a werewolf” you shift back on your spot, forcing his arm to fall from your shoulder.

He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it. He looks at you a few seconds longer. “Yeah. That’s it” he says, blinking and a lone tear escapes. Your fingers twitch at your side, needing to wipe it away. But it might be too weird so you let your fingers curl into a fist.

“Thank you for doing this” your mouth curves in a soft smile. “How did you find me here?”

“I’ve seen you in the woods for the past four nights. I didn’t know who it was at first because I only saw a flash of your hair, or your shoes. But today I followed you and it’s good I did because pretty girls like you shouldn’t be crying alone”

You snort. “Right. Pretty girls like me”

He raises a brow. “You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you. I just don’t believe your words”

“Then tell me what I can do to make you believe me” he states. You’re sure he isn’t serious but one look at him tells you he means every single word.

“Jungkook, it’s alright. You don’t have to do anything” you shake your head. But then it strikes you. “Although there is something…”

“Anything” the corners of his mouth upturned in a soft smile-- one that made your heart skip a beat (or ten maybe).

“I want to see your wolf form” you look at him tentatively, wondering if he’ll turn you down, or maybe even shout at you for making a request. Asking a werewolf to show their wolf is a sacred request and not something that should be asked lightly. You know how important their wolf form is to them. It’s like talking about sex among humans, but much more of a touchy subject.

“That’s it?” his eyebrows are furrowed together at the miniscule nature of your request.

“So you’ll show me? Can you do it on your own will?” your hands clasp in front of your chest in anticipation.

A laugh bellows from his chest. “Of course. I’ll show you” he stands up, dusts his hands, and the back of his jeans. “You may want to close your eyes because I need my clothes for later”

Without needing to be told in exact terms, you close your eyes and cover them with your hands for good measure. You can hear sounds of feet shuffling, a belt unbuckling and soft thuds—probably his clothes dropping ctx dagainst the soil.

“I’ll count to five and then open. One, Two, Three, Four, Five”

You give it a few more seconds just in case before you’re uncovering your eyes. Standing in front of you is a majestic white wolf, with icy blue eyes-- Jungkook’s eyes. Your mouth falls open, your mind unable to come up with words. You cautiously step towards him, hand reaching out wanting to touch him. He meets you halfway, nuzzling his nose against your hand. You laugh.

“You’re beautiful Jungkook” you whisper as you stroke the fur, which is softer than velvet against your hand.

The wolf whimpers in response.

“What can you do as a wolf? Any tricks?” you ask, forgetting that he’s not a dog.

He growls, baring his teeth.

You throw your hands up. “Geez. Sorry. I was just curious” you reach for his muzzle as you continue stroking gently to help him calm down.

He steps back, turns around and starts further into the forest.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

He whimpers and motions beyond the clearing with his head. You start to follow, when you remember his clothes and grab them. He’s already a few paces ahead of you. It seems that even his wolf isn’t patient.

“Slow down will you?” you yell as you run to try and catch up. He doesn’t listen though as he continues on.

You’re breathless by the time you reach a beautiful meadow full of wildflowers and fallen timber. Flowing right next to the meadow is a stream littered with little stones and large rocks alike. Moonlight shines through the cracks between tree branches above you. The air is cooler than you have ever experienced in this part of the woods. The grass is lush and soft beneath your feet unlike the rest of the forest which is mostly soil. You don’t know how you never came upon this place on your walks. But then again Jungkook probably knows the forest best.

He is stopped at the edge of the stream. You drop the pile of his clothes on a log, and walk towards the stream. You crouch and place your hand in the running stream. The icy cold water sends shivers down your body. You flick some of the water on him, at which point he growls at you again.

“This is fun” you chuckle as you get up.

He whimpers as he tackles you to the ground, and nuzzles his nose in your neck.

“It tickles, it tickles, it tickles” you laugh as you try to push him away. You doubt you could have pushed him away in his human form but as a wolf it’s impossible. You rub your hand against his fur. He mewls and falls on his back next to you and you rub his underbelly. He loves it as he continues to make these cute noises and all you want to do is hug him.

A twig snaps somewhere in the distance. Jungkook jumps up to his feet, growling, teeth showing as he paces in front of you looking in the direction of the sound. He continues to snarl and growl, pacing increasing in speed. He looks ready to kill. You abandon your perch on the grass in favor of standing up. You tread towards him. At this point you’re more scared of what he’s doing rather than where the sound came from. You reach him, stopping by his side. You look at him— at those blue eyes of his, and take a step forward but he’s quick to nudge you back with his head.

“It’s alright” you reassure him as you caress the top of his head.

You try once more to step beyond where he’s standing but he gives another push and you tumble back slightly. He snarls at you as he looks back at you over his shoulder, warning you to stay in your place. He turns back to inspect the woods, pacing from side to side.

“Alright. Fine” you give up. “But please don’t do anything. It could just an animal like a squirrel or something”

Ears perked up, he stands towering in front of you.

“I don’t think it was anything” you stay in your spot, as you place your hand on his flank.

He holds up his nose, moving his head in every direction like he’s trying to smell something out. He starts stepping back, his rump hitting you as he does. He turns around, leaning his muzzle against your shoulder, like he’s trying to comfort you and find comfort in you.

“It’s okay” you whisper, skimming his fur. “We’re fine” you wrap your arm around his neck.

He lets out a small cry as he snuggles into you.

“I brought your clothes by the way” you let go of him and he steps back. “I think it’s best if we go home. It’s already 1”

He steps back a few paces and disappears behind a tree while you turn around and wait for him.

“Give me a sign whenever you’re done” you call out. You wait and wait for what seems like ten minutes but is really only a minute or two.

He clears his throat. “I am good.” he says.

You turn around to face him. You really missed seeing his face-- in the human form. He was majestic in his wolf form, but there is something about the human side of him that you can’t get over. In all honesty, he’s a sight to behold.  

“So, what did you think?” he rubs his hands together in anticipation.

“You’re amazing” you meet him halfway. “I’ve seen almost everyone’s wolf form. But yours is breathtaking”

He chuckles. “Thank you. I am sure he’s happy to hear it too” he closes the distance. He reaches for your hand, curling his fingers around your palm. It’s the warmest feeling you have ever felt.

You open your mouth to protest but he’s already cutting you off.

“I am not letting go, until we’re out of these woods.” he tugs on your hand as he turns around and begins towards the house.

“Thank you. It is sweet of you to protect me”

“It’s my job to protect you. I will always be there when you need me” he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

It’s nice to know that you have someone in your corner. “I wish I could say the same. But you don’t need me to protect you”

He nods. “You’re right. But if I ever need a hug, I know who to come to”

Little does he know that you are ready to give him the whole wide world. “Anytime”

Your eyes lock for a few seconds and both of you burst into grins.

Walking in the forest by yourself is always peaceful. But walking in these woods hand in hand with Jungkook is euphoric.

A pang of dread fills your chest when Jungkook ignores you.

Just when you thought things were going good, he distanced himself. You don’t know what went wrong in the days following the night in the woods. But he was avoiding you. It wouldn’t have felt so bad were it not for the fact that the way he ignored you was cold. It wasn’t like you where it was more benign in nature and it was clear that you were avoiding him for fear of embarrassing yourself. He knew that too. But with him it’s something else

He wouldn’t even look at you. A frown seemed to have permanently settled on his face. He was never present anymore. He was always lost in thought with an inscrutable look in his eyes. If you showed up where he was, he’d leave wordlessly. If you tried to talk to him he’d act like he couldn’t even hear you and that would be followed by his departure. And when he did look at you-- the only way to interpret the expression in his eyes was: resentment. You had no idea why he was doing that.

So as the whole family, including Jimin was sitting in the backyard under the canopy for breakfast, Jungkook made to leave just as you were approaching to join them. But his mother made him sit back down.

“Jungkook, you’re not going to leave” her tone is stern.

He rolls his eyes with a huff as he sits back down.

“What’s wrong with you dude?” Jimin leans in, thinking he’s whispering but his voice is a tad bit louder than that.

Even you can hear him just as you are a few steps away.

“Nothing” his voice is devoid of emotion. He leans back in his chair, sliding down against the back like he just wants to disappear. He fiddles with his fingers.

“Hi everyone” you offer a tight lipped smile. Everyone except for Jungkook replies. “Hi Jungkook” you say after not being met with a response.

He stays silent, holding the same sulked posture as before, not even acknowledging your presence.

You catch Jimin’s eyes. He gestures with his head to Jungkook as if to ask ‘what’s up’. You shrug because you have no clue what has gotten into him. You take the empty chair next to Jungkook and you can see him shifting in his chair uncomfortably. Your heart sinks in your chest, but you dismiss it. You look over at Jimin sitting on the opposite side of the table. He looks between you and Jungkook and you just know he’s thinking something. You both look at each other-- a silent conversation ensuing.

“Oh no. I forgot the cutlery” Mrs. Jeon jumps suddenly. She gets up when you interrupt.

“It’s okay. I can grab it” you gesture for her to sit down. “Do you want that special set?” you smile at her.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together like this. I think it’s time we use it. This is a special occasion. The box is in the attic. Will you be okay?”

“It’s okay. I got it”  you put her concern to rest with a grin.

You glance at Jungkook who still hasn’t moved an inch as he is still playing with his fingers and ignoring everyone around him. You make way inside the house, and up the stairs to the second floor. The entrance to the attic is on the second floor. You turn right on the landing, moving towards your room and at the end of the hallway. You pull the rope which unfolds the ladder. It comes down, you climb it and reach the musty room.

It’s full of boxes. You rummage through them to find the one labeled cutlery. The box is quite heavy, but you manage to climb down with it safely. You push the ladder back up, and the door closes blending in with the rest of the ceiling. You carry the box down the first two flights of stairs, slightly shaking because of how heavy it is.

You lose your footing at the beginning of the third set of stairs and down you go five stairs. The box slips from your hand. A scream rips through the air. You manage not to hit your head. But your ankle twists during the fall. You’re laying on your side attempting to get up when everyone rushes into the room.

Jungkook is the first one to arrive. “Are you okay?” he helps you sit up and you wince.

It hurts so damn much, you can’t stop yourself from crying. “I- I am” you grimace. “I am fine” you croak through a strained voice, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“No. You’re not” he cups your cheeks to make you look at him. He inspects your head for injuries. “You’re not fucking fine” he’s pissed as he’s practically at the verge of yelling. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he slides an arm under your back, and the other under your knee as he picks you up off the floor. You lock your hands behind his neck, keeping your gaze cast down. You don’t want to look at him in this condition.“I am taking her to her room” he announces, and no one even gets a word in because he’s already started up the flight of stairs.

You try to contain your cries, but the pain is too sharp especially at your ankle. You can sense him looking down at you.

“What were you trying to do?” he shakes his head. You should have called for help, you idiot”

“Sorry” you snivel still not meeting his eyes. “I was just trying to bring the box down and I lost my footing”

You reach the room, and he kicks the ajar door fully open. Once you’re in, he kicks it close. He gently lays you down on the bed, adjusting the pillow underneath your head.

You wince in pain, wiping away the tears. For the first time you look at him and he’s pacing, like he was in the woods except he’s in his human form. “Where does it hurt?” he sounds concerned but it’s that angry kind of way. There is no softness in his tone, if anything its gruff.

“You don’t have to worry. I am okay”

“Bullshit” he stops and sits at the edge of the bed, as he takes off your shoe and sock to look at your ankle. He touches the ankle bone, and you inhale a sharp breath. “See” he shakes his head like he’s disappointed. “That looks like it’s sprained. You could have asked--”

“You for help?” you complete his sentence, full well knowing that’s what he intended.

His eyes flicker to you, but he doesn’t say anything. He begins to gently feel around your ankle for any other injuries, brows furrowing in concentration.

You watch him, as he continues to look for other wounds,or gashes-- scanning your legs, arms, and face. You can’t understand the sudden shift in his behaviour. “What are you doing?”

He stops to look at you. “What do you mean? I am checking for any other injuries” he says in a blunt tone and resumes inspection.

“That’s not what I mean” you push his hands away from your forearms just as he’s looking over for more bruises. “Why do you suddenly give a shit? What do you care if I live or die”

He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again and shuts it, grinding his jaw. “I’ll grab ice” he ignores your question and gets up from the bed.

You tug him back by the hem of his sleeve. “I need an answer”

“I don’t have one” he yanks his arm, and the cloth slips from your fingers.

“This is what I am talking about” you bite the inside of your cheek just as he’s approaching the door “One minute you act like you give a crap about me, and the next you act like you wouldn’t blink an eye if I died”

He’s reaching for the doorknob when he turns around. His brown wide eyes stare back at you He scoffs. “I wouldn’t care if you died?” his disbelief reflects in his partly open mouth. Do you---” he covers his face with his hands, taking in deep breaths and letting his hands run through his locks before looking at you. “You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about” he turns around and reaches for the door when there is a knock.

He sighs in frustration. “Who the hell--” he opens the door.

Jimin stands on the other side of the door with an ice pack in his hand, and a bottle of what looks like medicine. Jimin peeks over Jungkook’s shoulder, about to say something. But Jungkook grabs the ice pack and medicine wordlessly and shuts the door in his face.

He walks back and presses the ice pack to your ankle, while holding the tiny bottle out for you.

“I don’t want it” you say sharply, looking to the side.

You hear him huff. “Do I look like I give a shit right now?” he seethes through clenched teeth.

You turn to him. “You know this whole tough guy act doesn’t scare me”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. If this were a cartoon he would have smoke coming out of his ears. “Just take it”

You study him, your gazes locked on each other. Neither of you even blink. His nostrils are still flaring and you’re still breathing heavily through pursed lips. “I hate you” you snatch the bottle from him and chug the bitter liquid down.

His expression changes for a moment-- the look in his eyes softens. He blinks, casting his gaze down momentarily. But then he’s back to carrying a frown on his face as he looks up at you. “You should. You shouldn’t like me at all” his tone gentler than before, hiding beneath it an infinity of disappointment that you catch.

“Well now I don’t. You damn well made sure of that” you grab the pillow next to you and hide your face behind it.

Seconds later you hear the door slam and that’s when you scream into the pillow.

Your ankle gets better in the next couple of weeks, but your relationship with Jungkook doesn’t. You’re still distant from each other. Still angry at each other. Your silent fight has tensed the atmosphere in the whole house. It’s awkward to say the least. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon skirt around you both, walking on eggshells whenever you are in a room together. Dinners are silent for the most part except for when his parents make conversation about their day.

You both ignore each other. Neither of you even looks in the direction of the other person. If you happen to pass each other in the house, you avoid each other.

Perhaps everyone has had enough-- especially Mrs. Jeon since she broaches the subject at dinner one night.

“Alright” she holds her fingers in a steeple. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

You and Jungkook glance at each other wary of how she’s speaking because she never swears-- not even use the word ‘hell’.

You both say at the same time. “Nothing”

“Bullshit” she slams her hands on the table.

“Honey” Mr. Jeon looks at her.

She dismisses it. “ No. We’re going to address this”

“Mom” Jungkook looks at her warningly. “Don’t”

“What happened?” she looks at you. “He won’t tell me” she glances at her son from the periphery of her vision. “But I know you will”

“Nothing. I promise” you offer a half hearted smile.

“I wasn’t expecting this from you y/n” she sounds disappointed.

“Mrs. Jeon. I swear to you it’s nothing. Even if there is something we can sort it out amongst ourselves”

“Well that’s just the problem isn’t it. You’re not. You don’t even look at each other”

You avert your gaze sideways.

“Just drop it will you?” Jungkook sounds frustrated. “We’re good” he doesn’t even look sincere in the least bit.

You nod finding purchase in your lap, barely making eye contact with anyone.

“Whatever it is, apologize” she demands. She looks to Jungkook, raising her brows at him expectantly. She waits for him to say something. He avoids looking at her but she is persistent. It’s only for a few seconds but he crumbles under the pressure and mumbles a “sorry”

“Look at her and say it” Mrs. Jeon says curtly.

He looks at you, eyes meeting yours for the first time in weeks.

Something changes in you and once again you feel like crying just because he’s there.

“Sorry” he looks away, folding his arms across his chest and chewing on his lip.

“Well you can tell him Mrs. Jeon that if he isn’t going to mean it, I don’t accept it” you glance at her and then back at your lap, leaning against the chair. 

“You can tell her that this is all she’s getting from me” he looks at his mother too.

“Tell him that he’s the one who started it. So, if he can’t even own up to it there really is no point in talking about it” your cheeks feel warm as you keep your gaze fixed firmly on your lap.

“While you’re at it mom, you can tell her that she shouldn’t be talking about things when she doesn’t know what’s going on” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

Your nostrils flare and so do his. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks red and eyes wide. “Maybe Mrs. Jeon you can remind him that he never actually told me what his problem is” you glare at him.

She looks between the two of you and your both lower your gaze.

Jungkook scoffs, returning an equally contemptuous glare towards you. “I don’t have a problem. It’s not my fault she doesn’t understand I don’t actually want to talk to her”

“Great! you throw your hands in the air and look at his parents. “You can tell him he’s the biggest asshole I have ever met in my entire life and I regret ever feeling anything for him” you slam your hands on the table and storm off.

The breeze is cool as it caresses your face. You sniffle away the tears as they well up in your eyes. The woods seem to be the only thing that can comfort you. You walk down your usual pathway, hugging yourself against the chill. As you look around at the moon bathed trees, they look different to you. But they don’t seem as beautiful to you as they did when you were with Jungkook.

The whole forest feels different.

You reach the clearing once more where he found you. You’re overcome with emotion, and your eyes tear up once again. You choke a sob away. You sit against the same tree, look at the same clear sky blanketed by stars. His voice echoes in your head when he asked if he could give you a hug.

You don’t know what happened to that boy. You don’t know where he went and if he will ever come back. You thought he was a friend. But it turns out he wasn’t. He’s just a stranger that you used to know.

You’re immersed in your thoughts. You look down at your hands, a bittersweet sigh passing your lips.

There is a rustle in the bushes near you and you’re immediately on alert. You slowly stand up trying not to make any sudden movements. You look in the direction of the sound and see two glowing brown eyes staring at you.

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t straighten up fully, for the fear of aggravating whatever animal it is, so you stay in a partly bent position, hands visible by your side.

The animal steps out from behind the shadows.

It’s a wolf-- a black one. It’s not Jimin because his fur is brown. It sure as hell isn’t Jungkook.

The wolf growls at you. It steps towards you like a predator towards prey.

Full blown panic sets in. You’re frozen on the spot. Your heart beats hard and fast, as if the sound rings in your ears. Is this how you die? Alone in the woods? Your whole life flashes in your mind. Among all of that the only name and face that echoes in your head is Jungkook’s  because you would hate to die and not have a chance to talk to him. That would be the biggest regret of your life.

The wolf is still approaching you, and it’s halfway there. It growls and snarls-- saliva dripping from its mouth.

“Oh please no” you whisper, as your knees begin to buckle.

The wolf takes a leap towards you. But at the end second, you see a white one knocking the black one out mid air. They both fly some distance and fall on the ground.

“Jungkook!” you scream running in his direction.

Those blue eyes look back at you as he gets up on all fours.He keeps growling at the other wolf.. You know better than to interfere, so you stay behind him. Both of them snarl at each other. The other wolf howls, probably to try and intimidate Jungkook. But then he howls-- it’s loud and fierce so much so that you have to close your ears. He then makes a sound that is a mix between a roar and a growl as he steps towards the wolf.

“Jungkook no” you hold your hand out for him but he’s just beyond your reach. He looks back at you. You shake your head. He turns to the other wolf and makes a sound that sounds like a threatening bark.

There is a moment where they both just look at each other. Then the other one whimpers and leaves-- tail between its legs quite literally.  

Your knees give out and you fall on the ground, sobbing and hugging yourself. Your cries fill the air. You sob hard enough to make your whole body shake. You have never felt such fear in your life and not just for yourself. You were more worried for Jungkook.

He comes running to you, fully clothed somehow. He immediately holds you in his arms. He holds you close, chin resting on the top of your head, as you bury your face in his chest, body shaking in his arms. You can’t even breathe  properly-- gasping for air with short shallow breaths.“Jungkook” you whimper, holding onto his shirt.

“I am here” he squeezes tighter. “I am right here. You’re safe”

“I-I” you pull back to look up at him, eyes swollen and red, tears still falling down your face in droves. “I thought you were going to...” you bawl again just at the thought of something happening to him. You hide your face against his chest, wrapping your arms against him so tight, you’re sure he’s having a hard time breathing.

“I am okay. I am not even hurt” he reassures you.

“I was so…” you hiccup. “Worried that--that s-some-something w-would happen to you” you manage to choke out the words.

“Look at me” he holds your face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I am completely okay. I was worried for you. I was scared. I was so so scared” he gazes into your eyes, and you know he’s speaking the truth because he’s beginning to cry too.

You sniffle, trying to control your sobs so you can tell him. “The only thing I could think of was you. I didn’t want to die without talking to you. I was afraid I would never get to talk to you”

“Me too” he croaks. “You didn’t get hurt anywhere did you?” there is panic in his eyes as he suddenly realizes that.

You shake your head. “No. You saved me”

“I told you I’d always protect you didn’t I?” he snivels.

Your lips just in a pout, lips quivering. “How did you know?” you slide your thumbs against his cheeks to wipe the tears.

“I came to the woods to cool off for a bit” he stops to rub the tears from your cheeks as the water works start again. “I was just so pissed, so naturally my wolf took over and I transformed. I was just roaming around, when I could smell you. I followed your scent. I saw the whole thing and trust me, my heart almost stopped. I was waiting for the right moment to intervene and when that wolf jumped at you, I lost it”

“I am sorry I said all those things” you clutch the material of his shirt tighter, looking down.

“No. I started this whole shit and if I hadn’t you wouldn’t have gotten into trouble. I could have lost you tonight and it would have been my fault. I could never forgive myself” he takes your hands in his, curling his fingers in yours. “I am so so sorry”

“So we’re good?” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh with you. “Look, if this night has proved anything, it’s that you shouldn’t like me. I told you. Don’t like me. I am not right for you. I am not even good for you. Look at where I landed you tonight” his fingers begin to slip from yours.

“You’re wrong” you hold tight onto his hands.

“I can’t y/n” he avoids your eyes, his shoulders droop. He looks absolutely defeated.

“What’s the reason?” you press on. “Is it someone else?”

“No” he’s quick to shut down that train of thoughts in your head. “There’s no one else. But I can’t. You hold too much power over me. That’s exactly why I can’t”

“I don’t get it. You do all these things for me that no one ever has. Your actions say one thing and your words another. What am I supposed to do Jungkook?”

“Don’t like me. Stay far far away from me” he pulls his hands away from yours. “I’ll take you home”

“Jungkook-”

“I am taking you home” he says firmly, as he lifts you off the ground in his arms.

You hook your hands behind his neck. You let your head rest against the crook of his neck. You let him take you home because you’re too tired to fight. You don’t want to fight with him because you know that you love this man. If the night taught you anything, it was that.

“Y/n we’re going to be leaving” Mrs. Jeon hurriedly comes into the kitchen, opening up cabinets and grabbing food.

“Leaving?” your brows furrowed. “Where?”

“Jungkook’s dad and I have to go to the orphanage in the city for an event. We’ll be back by tonight. But Jungkook is home if you need anything” she packs up a bag full of food, probably for the journey since the drive to the city is 2 hours.

“Wait, you’re both leaving? Jungkook and I are going to be alone…?” your voice trails at the end, having been met with a dreadful realization.

Mrs. Jeon’s nose scrunches as she walks over to you. “Is everything okay?”

You’re too busy worrying so you don’t even hear her.

Mrs. Jeon calls out your name a couple of times before she physically has to shake you. “Y/n, what’s going on?”

You blink rapidly. “Oh nothing. Everything is fine. I just thought he would go with you too”

“We asked him, but he said you’d be alone at home so he’ll stay too”

“He said that?” your eyes widen. You don’t understand his concern.

She nods. “Mmhmm. He also said he will stay just in case you need something while everyone is gone. I would ask you to come too but I didn’t want you to feel bad”

You shake your head. “It’s alright. I’d cry the whole time anyway thinking of my parents” you chuckle. “But you know I can take care of myself”

Mrs. Jeon chuckles. “I know that. But tell Jungkook that because this boy was adamant on not wanting to leave you alone. I don’t understand him” she shakes her head, like any mother aggrieved of her child would. You can’t blame her though. He is a unique specimen.

“Yeah me neither” you purse your lips in a smile.

“Alright. We’ll be off then” she gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “If he troubles you, call me right away”

“I will”

She makes haste of leaving, carrying the bag.

You spend a better part of the day hiding in your room, avoiding Jungkook. It’s the only place in the entire house where he won’t come. Not after everything that has happened between you. He’s honorable in that sense. Things have shifted between you once again. There’s no anger anymore. All of that has been replaced by awkwardness. Now if you see each other, you only nod at one another. Occasionally, you talk too. But it’s always surface level things. Nonetheless, it’s a step in the right direction.

At half past one though, your stomach starts to grumble and gradually all you can think about is food. It’s a relief in a way because it distracts you from him. You spend ten minutes trying to persuade your brain that you’re not actually hungry.

“I am not hungry” you chant it like a mantra hoping that at least for a while it will go away.

After agonizing and torturing yourself for half an hour, you give in.

“Fuck this” you grumble as your hunger gets the better of you. You drag yourself down to the kitchen. Unlike last time though you don’t tiptoe around the house.

You go into the kitchen, open the fridge to find two plates already filled with food. A note, no doubt from Mrs. Jeon is stuck into the cling film: don’t forget to eat.

You grab a plate for yourself, leaving the other one in the fridge for Jungkook. You’re about to shut the door, when you change your mind. This may serve as an excuse to talk to him. At the end of the day, you’re going to be living in the same house. So you figure you can’t go on avoiding him.

You grab the second plate, heat both of them in the microwave.

You head back upstairs, where the bedroom’s are. You turn left at the landing towards his room which is at the end of the hallway. You stop in front of the door, and seeing as your hands are full you settle for calling his name. “Jungkook, you in your room? I got food”

You wait, but there is no response.

“Jungkook” you call again.

No response. Finding yourself with no other choice left, you somehow manage to balance the plate on your forearm. With the free hand, you turn the handle.

You peek your head inside to find the room empty. Just as you’re about to leave your eyes catch something at his bedside table. You know you shouldn’t go inside, but you can’t help it. You leave one of the plate’s on his bedside table  because you can’t lug three things around. You grab it, meaning to ask him about it when you find him.

You close the door, and head back downstairs. You walk the whole of the first floor from the dining room, living room, kitchen, family room calling out his name. But he’s nowhere.

“Maybe he’s in the basement” you think to yourself as you head downstairs. You walk down the steps.

It’s dark save for the blue LED lights running along the ceiling. You walk in further turning the corner from where the pool table, and the arcade game machines are. You remember that before Jungkook left he had set up one half of the basement as his gaming room.

Sure enough as you near the room you hear sounds of gunshots, and rifles and some mild cursing which makes you chuckle.

You don’t bother knocking as you enter. The same blue LED lights adorn the room. You can see his black mop of hair against the couch.

“Are you hungry?” you say tentatively as you stop next to the couch.

He immediately stops playing, throwing his remote on the ground as he turns to you. He takes off his headphones. You notice his hair is tied up in a bun, which manages to make your heart skip a few beats.

“Oh hey” he says, straightening up. “You didn’t have to” he notices the plate in your hand.

“Your mom said you haven’t been eating” you hold the plate for him and he reaches for it.

“Thanks” he offers a pursed lip smile. He takes the plate and sets it aside on the side table. A few beats of silence pass. He taps his fingers against one another, something you notice he does when he’s nervous. His eyes stay fixed on his hands.

“Will you make me a promise?” you look at his profile.

He clears his throat. “Depends on what it is”

You roll your eyes, fully expecting that response. “Just say you will”

Your persistent gaze makes him shift uncomfortably in his spot. He sighs, looking ahead at nothing in particular, while thinking over your request. He turns to you. “Fine”

“Promise me if I ask you questions, you will answer. It can be anything”

“That doesn’t sound very fair” his lips quiver at the corners, a hint of smile making an appearance. “What if I don’t want to answer”

“Too bad” you narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t have a choice. So?” you raise your brows giving him an expectant look.

He considers your demand, looking back at his hands again. “Well looks like I don’t have a choice”

“Good. Because I am asking right now”

At this, he looks at you wide eyed.

“Now?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. Tell me why you won’t act on your feelings”

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “Don’t deny it. If you didn’t feel anything for me you wouldn’t have lost your shit the day I hurt my ankle and you sure as shit wouldn’t have risked your life for me” you remind him. “And you wouldn’t have put this next to your bed” you bring forward the picture of you and him Mrs.Jeon’s friends had taken-- the one where you’re both looking at each other as he holds you by the waist.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. He rubs his hands on his face, resting his elbows on his knees as he keeps his face covered. He pulls his hands away , crossing them together. He looks at you, trying to determine how he should begin. “You’re right. I do have feelings for you. I’ve been here before y/n and…” he pauses, swallowing thickly.

“And what?” you prod, placing the photo frame next to you.

“She was beautiful. You should have seen her. She was amazing, just beyond I could express. Everyone here loved her. We used to spend every day together. Her parents hated me for it” he lets out a chuckle, a nostalgic look in his eyes.

“What happened?”

“She-- she died”

Your mouth hangs open. “I am so so sorry. I had no idea. I am sorry. Just.. forget I asked. I don’t need to know” you feel guilty immediately.

“No. It’s alright. I’ve already started. There was a fire in the woods years ago and she died in that. Some humans were having a bonfire and they left the fire burning. It caught on and somehow she got stuck in the middle of it with no escape” he looks down at his hands yet again.

You shift closer to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders resting your head on against the crook of his neck. “I am really sorry”

“Thank you” he places a hand on your forearm, leaning his cheek on your head.

“If I had known, I never would have pressed you. I feel like an asshole” you mumble.

“You’re not an asshole” he replies.

“I get it now and I promise you I won’t ever ask you to consider your feelings for me again” you lift your head and place a kiss on his cheek.

His lips curve up in a grin immediately and he is quick to place a kiss on your cheek too. “You’re amazing” his gaze locks with yours.

“I know” you grin. “Can I ask you something else too... ?” you say tentatively.

He nods. “Anything”

“Did you… did you imprint on her?” you ask, noting just how close you’re sitting to him. You can smell his breath, and feel it on your face as he beholds you in the most loving look in his eyes.

A coughing fit ensues for Jungkook, and you unwrap your arms from his shoulder, in favour of gently patting his back. “Sorry. Bad question hey?”

“No” he dismisses with his hand. “It’s just I’ve never been asked that”

“Forget I asked” you shake your head.

“No. I promised. Not her. Only my human side loved her. To imprint on someone all of me, including my wolf has to feel something. That’s the only way werewolves can imprint and it would be a far stronger bond than what I had with her” he sighs. “I have imprinted on someone. Not her” he finally answers your question.

“Oh my god” your heart sinks. “I- I have no idea what to say” you shift away from him, feeling like you’ve violated some rule. As if you have made him cheat on someone with you.

“Y/n” he says as soon as he sees your body language tensing. “It’s not what you’re thinking”

“No” you shake your head. “I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am so fucking stupid” you get up abruptly and march off while he calls out for you.

As is customary every third Friday of the month, the children from the neighbourhood gather around the campfire. This time Jungkook is there so he’ll have to answer all their questions.

Everyone sits around in a circle, some on the logs and others on chairs. Jungkook and you sit on opposite sides of the fire, Your eyes are fixed on the embers burning away. He holds a stick as he’s poking at the coal to keep the fire going. Your eyes meet momentarily as you both look up, but you look away first, busying yourself with watching the fire burn away the wood once more. You can still however feel his gaze resting on your face. But you’re too resigned at this moment to feel anything but emptiness.

“Is everyone ready?” Jimin comes along, absolutely chirpy and the complete opposite of how you look and feel. That’s when you sense Jungkook looks away. Jimin settles into the empty spot on the log next to you. He passes around drinks to the group. He offers you one too, but you decline. “Hey” he nudges you.

“Hmm” you turn your attention to him.

“What’s going on with you? Everyone’s been asking me what’s up”

“Nothing’s up” you shrug. “I am absolutely okay”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But at least don’t lie” Jimin purses his lips in a smile.

“Sorry Jiminie. I am just not feeling great. I’ll be okay I promise” you note with a half assed smile.

“So who wants to go first and ask Jungkook questions” Jimin turns to the group once he’s assured by you. The group is made up of mostly older kids in their late teens. But there are some younger children mixed in the group.

A chorus of ‘me, me ,me, me’ starts up.

“How about we go one by one” Jimin suggests and the sea of hands in the air disappears.

“How was the city?” someone from your side asks. But you couldn’t be bothered to know who.

“It was good.” he sighs, poking the fire logs once again. “But it was dull compared to this place” his eyes flicker to you momentarily.

You catch him, if only for a second and then look at your hands as you fiddle with them.

“Did you find a human mate? I am sure you met very pretty girls” one of the girls asks. The question you piques your interest.

You remember she was the one who excitedly told you Jungkook was back.

He doesn’t respond immediately which only makes you think that he did meet someone there. Why wouldn’t he? She’s probably the one he’s imprinted on. You would leave were it not for Jimin who holds your wrist with a shake of his head as soon as he sees you’re about to get up.

“I did meet girls.” Jungkook says, looking at the little girl. “But they are nothing compared to someone else I know” he shifts his gaze to you once more. “She’s beautiful, but she doesn’t see it that way” he looks right at you, like he’s speaking to you, and you only. Time seems to stand still momentarily because he acts like no one else is around. “It’s a shame because she really is the most beautiful girl I have ever met” he holds your gaze, rendering you unable to look away.

You hear aww’s and squeals from all around you which pulls you away from the trance and blinkingly you avert your gaze.

“Does she know you like her?” someone else asks, this time a boy.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think she does. By the way, I thought this was about exchanging stories about our ancestry” he looks around at everyone.

“Yeah. We hear those every month. But this is much more exciting and romantic” one of the older girls probably in her late teens replies, and everyone agrees as they nod or offer a ‘yes’ in agreement. “Tell us more. What’s it like to imprint on someone?”

“Are you sure we should be talking about this? Aren’t they young?” Jungkook looks at Jimin.

“They won’t tell if you don’t. Right guys?” Jimin chuckles and everyone nods eagerly.

“Alright then” Jungkook continues.

At this point you really want to leave because you don’t want to hear about how she makes him happy, and how his whole life has changed because of her. But you stay because some part of you is still holding onto hope of you and him.

“It feels like gravity is shifting from underneath you. When you look at her, you can see everything clearly. It’s as if your past, present, and future come together all at once and everything makes sense. It’s as if you finally find the ‘why’ of your existence. You’ll be anything for her-- whatever she needs be that a protector, a friend, a lover. Anything… he trails.

“That’s so romantic” the girl squeals dreamily. “I want that too”

Jungkook laughs. “Any other burning questions?”

“When are you going to tell her?” another question comes which only furthers your resolve to leave. You get up, having had enough of it. The moment you stand, everyone turns to look at you. Without a word, you begin walking towards the house.

“Don’t you want to know who it is y/n?” Jungkook yells as you leave,  his words halting you in your steps. You feel everyone’s eyes darting back and forth between you and him.

You look over your shoulder. ‘I already told you”

“I think you’ll want to know,” he replies. You hear the crunch of the grass beneath his feet as he walks towards you. He gently places a hand on your elbow to turn you around. “Just let me tell you”

You glance up at the man. “I won’t be a--able to hear it” your voice cracks.

“I did imprint on someone—“

“Jungkook” you say warningly.

“Just listen to me” his grip on your elbow tightens, his jaw tightening.

“Jungkook please” you beg just as your eyes begin to water. You avert your gaze to the side. “Please. I cannot do this” you shake your head.

“I love her” he continues anyway despite your protests. You know he’s looking at you. But you can’t. You can hear the pain in his voice which makes everything so much more worse because that means he could never love anyone the way he loved her. “ She makes everything make sense and-”

“Just stop” you yank your elbow away from his hand and walk away.

You sit at the edge of the pier which juts out to the side from the boardwalk. just as the sun begins to set behind the mountains. The night market bustles in the distance. Crowds and crowds of people and come and go. Yet you feel calm, just watching the waves ripple beneath your feet. You dip them in the cold water, shivers running through your body. You splash the water, trying to pass your time.

You would have gone to the woods but given everything that has happened in that forest, you’re not too fond of it at the moment. This time Jungkook won’t be there to protect you. He’s out with his friends somewhere. You didn’t bother to ask where, not that it is any of your business.

From the periphery of your vision you can see a group of guys jumping down on the wooden planks of the pier.

You feel disappointed because you won’t have the space to yourself anymore.

They’re laughing, and being boys in general which makes you roll your eyes.

They pass by behind you, being as loud as ever. You ignore their incessant and annoyingly loud voices as you focus on the sun which is still in the process of setting. You close your eyes, the wind blowing softly against your face, and through your hair.

“Y/n?”

You instantly whip around to come face to face with none other than the man who had made a home out of your thoughts.

“Jungkook? You’re here?” You question, using your hands to push yourself up.

“Careful” his hands come out as if to hold you in case you fall.

“It’s okay” you tuck strands of hair behind your ears. “I am fine”

“I was just with my friends” he turns behind, and points to them while they stand a respectful distance away. They wave at you and hesitantly you wave back. “Why are you here?”

“I needed to get out of the house. The woods aren’t exactly my favorite place right now. So I thought why not come here” you shrug.

He nods, sliding his fingers in his jean pockets, rocking back and forth on his toes. “So…”

“So…” you fold your arms across your chest out of sheer self-consciousness.

“Do you maybe want to-” he starts.

“Hey Jungkook” a random girl throws her arms around his shoulders from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.

You look between the two of them.

This must be her. She’s pretty

“I thought we were gonna go eat” she pouts at him questioningly.

He doesn’t look at her as he speaks. Instead he locks eyes with you. He stares at you— wordlessly, like he’s lost in you. “Yeah” his reply is intended for her.

“Well introduce me, won’t you?” she looks at him and then at you.

“This is…” he’s still looking at you and you only.

“I am Alix” she extends a hand, much too cheerfully.

“Y/n” you can only manage to press your lips to feign a smile.

“Ohhh” her mouth opens in realization and she looks at him, like she’s impressed.

This time he looks at her and nods.

“Well y/n, do you want to come to dinner with us?” she offers kindly. But to your ears it’s anything but.

“No. I am alright. But thank you” you look at her. “See you at home Jungkook”

“Just come” he says just as you’re about to turn around to leave.

“I have to do some stuff at home” you say listlessly. “I’ll see you tonight” you reply with a ghost of a smile.

Yet again you turn away from him, not even waiting for his response.

You walk all the way back home, thankful that the way back is quiet, and not many people are around. You take the road from the pier that merges into the street that leads to your house up the hill.

You kick your feet beneath you, sighing heavily every so often. A fluttery feeling intensifies in your stomach the closer you get to home. Your chest feels heavy, a dull ache coming on. Your breathing quickens pace, not so much from the effort of walking up the hill but the mental exhaustion that you’ve faced in the past few weeks.

Love fucking sucks.

Your thoughts are occupied by Jungkook and Jungkook only. Every thought begins and ends with him and soon enough your head is full of memories you spent with him-- good and bad. It’s like a movie playing in your head-- beginning with the first time you saw him after he came back, and just a few minutes ago to Alix and her perfectly pretty face. How could he not love her?

By the end of it, you’re positively bawling your eyes out. Tears upon tears cascade down your face, with no indication of stopping anytime soon. You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, sniffling. Your legs become heavy with the weight of carrying you up the hill. Your head hurts, and you’re sure you’ll faint if you don’t sit down soon.

You quietly continue to sob, head hung low as you reach the gate. You push it open. Your feet drag beneath you, a heavy tread leaving marks of soil from the walk up on the cemented pathway. You open the door to the house, only to hit your head on something.

“Ow” you mumble, rubbing the spot that’s starting to ache. It only makes you sob more. “What the hell...” you lament under your breath, beginning to cry with the force of someone writhing in pain on all fours. You fall on your knees, everything inside you giving up. You cry the way a child does-- hiccuping, heaving to catch your breath only to have it be drowned by another wave of painful sobs.

“Just stop” Jungkook’s voice cracks, as he falls to his knees in front of you too. “Stop doing this to yourself” he croaks.

“I don’t know how to” you strain.

“I can make it all go away y/n” his cheeks are stained with tears too. He gathers you in his arms just like he’s done before. He kisses the top of your head. “Just let me make it go away. Please”

You break the embrace to look up at him through tear soaked eye lashes. “You can’t” your voice quivers.

“If you just…” he stops to take a deep breath, arms loosely wrapped around your back. He’s defeated into silence by your cries.

“It hurts” you clutch the material of his shirt., tucking your chin into your neck “It hurts so so much”

“It’s you”

You don’t even hear him, as you hide your face behind your hands, your body shaking due to your forceful sobs.

“It’s you.” he says again. “Listen to me. For once. Please” he’s begging you at this point.

You uncover your face to look at him. “What?”

“It’s been you all along”

“Wh…” your mouth remains open as you gawk at him. You hastily wipe your face with your hands as if that will somehow help you make sense of it.

“It’s you” he says in a whisper. “It’s you” he looks into your eyes this time--really looks as he says it for the third time almost like he’s saying it as a mantra. “I love you”

As if on cue, you stop crying because his words sink in. You don’t just hear them, you understand them. You begin connecting the dots. “Holy shit” you look at him daze. “I never even gave you a chance to speak” you bemoan that fact.

A bittersweet chuckle softly crosses his lips. “You didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have tortured yourself like this. Couldn’t you see it?” he searches your eyes for an answer that will make sense to him.

“How could I have? You’re you and I am me-- clumsy and stupid. You acted like there was someone else this whole time” you rub your eyes to dry the tears away.

“You never gave me a chance to tell you. I tried so many times. That night in the woods when I said I feel what you feel, you misunderstood that as being part of my abilities as a werewolf. But that’s not true. I feel every emotion you feel and I feel it ten times more than you because I imprinted on you .Then I tried to tell you during our conversation in game room and you walked away”

“Then why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you just act on it? You should have stopped me”

“You know why” a slight frown adorns his forehead.

You gulp hard, realizing the depth of what you just said. An apology is just at the tip of your tongue. “I know I said I wouldn’t ask you to consider my feelings ever again. But Jungkook, I can’t. Being around you overwhelms me. All I want to do is be around you, have you in my sights and when you’re not I feel disappointed and sad. I miss you every single second of the day when you’re not there. ”

“I have seen the entirety of us y/n-- everything that was, is and all that is to come ”

“I’ve imagined a whole future with you too”

He doesn’t respond.

Your stomach feels tight, your chest feels like something is pressing on it as his silence continues. Your gaze doesn’t leave him for even a second. You feel like you’re naked, as if the whole of you is on display, vulnerable to the point where even a single look will be enough to make or break you.

“I am just asking you to love me” your soft voice doesn’t dampen the gravity of your words.

He scoffs. “That’s just it though. I don’t just love you. I am bound by you. I am bound to you for the rest of my existence. That’s far scarier than love”

“I don’t know how to reply to that. All I know is I am in love with you exactly the way you’re in love with me” you shift closer to him, locking your fingers in his. “Because I can’t deny you any more than you can deny me”

He looks down and plays with your fingers. “That’s true. But I haven’t stopped thinking about the night you got attacked. What would have happened if I wasn’t there? What would I have done with myself if something happened to you?” his words reflecting the guilt he’s been feeling.

“Quit blaming yourself” you chide him. “Anything can happen to me, or to you at any given time. So stop worrying about that and keep your promise of protecting me. It’s not like you can switch this off”

“Not any more than I can stop breathing” he replies.

“Then love me. It’s simple. Jungkook, we either do this, or we don’t” it’s not that you are giving him an ultimatum, but it’s a fact.

“You know as much as I do, that even if in some ridiculous world I wanted to say no, I couldn’t. So you don’t have to worry about me not loving you. Because that just isn’t possible. Not only because I chose you but because that’s just how it is”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“I already told you I love you. You know that I do”

“And that’s supposed to be it?” you raise your brows at him.

His lip quivers into a lopsided smile, the solemn mood beginning to shift. “Tell me what you want”

“Just kiss--”

His lips on yours quiet down your thoughts to nothing. Shivers cascade down your body in waves. He invades each of your senses. The fluttering in your stomach grows intense. His lips feel soft against your own.

Jungkook keeps his eyes slightly open, taking a guilty peek at your face. He still couldn’t imagine if this was a figment of his imagination, or if the universe had gifted him this moment just at the right time. But he felt thankful for it beyond words could express. Every breath he took smelled like you— like water lilies.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.” he breathes heavily. He doesn’t even give you the chance to speak because he’s pressing his lips to yours once again— softly and gently. His hands run the sides of your body, the material of your shirt gathering together, exposing your skin.

He guides you up without breaking the kiss, pulling you in to erase every inch of space between your bodies. You can feel every contour of his body against your own. You hold him tight, trying to take in the feeling.

His hands slide under your thighs as he picks you up, you wrap your legs around his hips, as he takes you inside the house. He carries you as if you don’t weigh anything— through the house and up the stairs to his room.

“What” kiss. “About” kiss. “Your parents?”

“Not” kiss  “here” he mumbles between a kiss.

He kicks the door open and carries you in until your back hits a wall. He gently lets you down, till the tips of your toes are touching the floor. He breaks the kiss. “You know I won’t do anything you don’t want right?” his gaze, fixated on your eyes.

You nod, running your tongue over your lips and tasting him.”How could I not want this” you pull him by the nape of his neck, unable to bear even one second of distance. He happily obliges, melting into the kiss with a content sigh. It kind of feels like you’re drunk because there is a slight buzz and your mind feels hazy. You’re thoughtless at the moment, and your entire body is burning. Kissing him, touching him-- is all the intoxication you need to feel out of control. Neither your mind, nor your body is acting under your direction anymore

Your whole being is responding only to Jungkook. Every kiss, every soft touch, every caress, every stroke elicits a reaction from you.

“Tell me what you want, baby” he asks, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest. “Tell me exactly what you want” his mouth parts against the skin of your neck as he bites down gently.

You can’t help the moan that passes your lips and fades into the air. “You”

He inhales sharply at your words as if that is enough to turn him on. He lifts his head up to look at you “You wanted me to love you right?” he pushes your thighs out by burying his leg between yours. He pushes his thigh against you exactly where you’re aching for him.

“Oh my god….” your voice fails you.

“I’ve thought of you so many nights, for so long” he pushes in more and you grind your hips against his thigh.

“I want more” you can’t help but mumble. “Please”

A corner of his lip raises in a smirk. “Your wish is my command” . He swipes his thumb against your clothed clit. “Is this what you want baby?”

You nod, a whimper crossing your lips as the sound of your heavy breaths fills the air.

You continue to rock your hips against his thigh, while he continues to rub circles on your clit. “Does that feel good?” he asks, but before you can even respond he’s shoving his tongue down your mouth through your parted lips.

You moan into him. eyes shutting tight at the fluttery sensation between your legs. You clutch the fabric of his shirt, unable to hold yourself up longer as you clench around nothing in particular. You feel the adrenaline in every part of your body-- in the pounding of your heart, in your breathless noises, in the way your body grows warmer by the second.

You open your eyes to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. But he’s already looking at you. His pupils are dilated, irises beginning to change colour from his chocolate brown to blue while he continues to kiss you. His hand stops moving against your clit, and he removes his thigh from between your legs. At the loss of friction you feel like a starved animal, needing more, and more, and more. You didn’t think you could ever feel this way, but he was making you abandon all of your inhibitions and want whatever he could give you. You didn’t know if you would ever feel satisfied after what you started.

But Jungkook knows exactly how to pleasure you and then some more as he picks you up and leads you to his bed where he lays you down. He hovers over you, palms pressed into the mattress on either side of you. He gulps.”Are you sure?”

You only nod.

He shifts down, unbuttoning your jeans, and sliding them out from under your legs. He throws them on the floor. He parts your legs, resting his upper body between your legs. He doesn’t waste any time, as he licks a strip on your clothed clit.

“O-oh- oh my….” your fingers curl around his hair, and you push his mouth flush against your core.

He moans against your flesh, laying kitten licks against the sensitive skin. The friction tenses the knot in your stomach even more. Just when you think there’s nothing more he could do, you feel your insides being stretched as he pushes a finger into you. Your back arches at the sensation. He buries his finger knuckle deep,curling it and inside you and hitting that sweet spot. Broken moans and gasps cross your mouth, while your toes curl from all the pleasure.

Seconds tick by and turn into minutes which turns into hours and just like that the night flies by. You don’t know how many times you come undone under him, above him. You stopped counting after the second time because you weren’t even in a state where you could think about thinking anything.

You lay under the sheets facing each other--limbs entangled and noses almost touching. Every few seconds the tip of his nose touches yours as he moves in to kiss you, but then he stops.

“Stop being a tease” you pout at him.

He laughs, showing his pearly whites. His eyes crinkle at the corners just like they do when he’s happy. He leans in, to place a peck on your lips. Then he shifts his head up to kiss your forehead. Then gently, he places a tender kiss at the tip of your nose. He pulls your hand into his as he brings it to his lips, laying down gentle kisses on each knuckle.

“Who taught you how to be romantic?” you tease

“I’ve always been romantic” his gaze locks with yours, a gentle smile coming onto his lips.

“By the way what did you talk to Jimin about that day?” a sudden curiosity shifts the subject.

A look of realization crosses his face “Ah” he says. “I told him about you”

“So that’s why you were pissed” you chuckle.

“Pissed?” his brows crinkle together.

“You were jealous of course. You looked like you were going to kill him” a corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk.

“No. I wasn’t. That’s childish stuff. I just thought he should know that at that time you were kind of taken. Not really but you know…”

You tap his nose. “If you say so” You trace the outline of his face with your fingers. “Are you happy?” you whisper.

“More than I can tell you. Are you?” he licks his lips as his eyes flicker to yours.

“Mhmm” you nod. “Happiest I have ever been I think”

“Good” he kisses the back of your hand. “That’s all I want for you baby”

“I can’t believe you’re mine” you look into his eyes-- finding yourself falling in love all at once.

“You better believe it” his lips turn up at the corners into a grin. “I don’t know how much humans mean it when they say ‘forever’. But let me tell you us werewolves tend to take the stuff pretty seriously.”

You chuckle silently, huffing through your nose. “Your point being?”

“You better believe I am yours, because you’re forever y/n. Until my last breath”

THANK YOU IF YOU READ THIS! REBLOG, COMMENT, LIKE! 

[riverisnotsafe]

Mine.

PAIRING: F!Servant!Reader x Naoya Zenin

WARNINGS: NAOYA ZENIN. Naoya smut. NSFW, Minors DNI. | If you're into any of these: possessive Naoya, breeding kink (?), mentions of overstimulation, jealous Naoya.

A/N: You can call me Noct or River. I’m still fairly new to how tumblr works and how writers and bloggers (?) write their imagines/fics so I do apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. I will also post on AO3 under sunflowerpsycho. I'm still trying to improve^^ This was self-indulgent and not edited so pretty all over the place and might be unclear in some parts, sorry bout that.

The reader lowkey a pick me but depends on how you view her, either she's a pick me or she just acts the way she acts to accustom and stroke the lil bitches ego.

“A-ah! Naoya-sama!” you moan his name as he shoots his load deep in you. A few moments of bliss and you were ready to clean yourself. Naoya never liked staying in bed long after sex. He finds it disgusting. All the fluids of sweat, semen and love juices mixed together made his skin crawl. “Oi woman, where are you going?” You haven’t even gotten up but Naoya had you strongly wrapped in his embrace. His cock still deep within you, as if acting as a plug. “I’m gonna wash myself..? You don’t like being dirty like this...usually?” the last bit came out as a question when Naoya buried his head deep into the crevice of your neck. “Ah, I’ll let it pass today. Just stay here. My cum is gonna leak out if you move.” he tried to shove himself deeper, earning an unexpected moan from you. “L-leak out???” Does Naoya have a breeding kink? Is he trying to keep his cum in you???? “N-naoya-sama...are you trying to breed me?” at the mention of breed, you could feel his dick twitch in your core. “Shut up woman.” Ah...so he is and he’s embarrassed to admit. “I feel honoured if that’s what you’re trying to do...” another twitch.

Under that tough misogynistic act, this man is just a boy who thrives on praise, he probably was deprived of any in his childhood, hence the superiority complex. But with you, he’s quite honest. The body doesn’t lie. You were just another servant. He probably paid and slept with many so you never thought of it as anything special. Besides, after all of this dirty work, both of you end up going your separate ways. A servant and the young master. That’s all it is. That is until one of the maids tried stealing from the family, unfortunately from Naoya and he didn’t take it too lightly. A woman and a thief, absolutely the worst. Ever since that, he appointed you as his personal maid, to ensure that only one person will serve him. Only one will enter and exit his quarters. Only one will serve his meals. Only one will tend to him. Only one will follow him around the house. Only one will keep him company when needed. Why did he choose you? Honestly you had no idea. Out of all the servants, clearly you were the least appealing, especially for a man of Naoya’s caliber.

You could never rival the looks of any of the other girls. You were chubby. Your thighs a bit too thick. Your cheeks were puffy. You had no thigh gap. Curves? Well, they weren’t hour-glass curves so you were bedrock bottom ranked. And when it came to family, you were a nobody. All the other servants have been serving the Zenin clan for generations. You were just a nobody who was pulled into the servant life to pay off your parent’s debt. What luck. It took him time though, to make you tend to him sexually. He might have a big ego and any woman would sleep with him but deep down he knew it was only for money and his looks, which he prided on. The sex was always bland. He could care less about the women’s pleasures, he would ejaculate outside, toss them money and demand them to immediately leave. He found them disgusting. Weren’t you just the same?

He had a great face, an even better body and all the riches you could’ve dreamt of, so why has he not tossed you out yet. He for sure can suspect that you’re just the same as all those women, plus, you were even lower, a nobody. Yet, here he is, deep inside you. This has been..about the sixth time you and Naoya have had intercourse. The first three times was when you were just a normal servant. Coincidentally he always found you and forced you to pleasure him. The pay was good so you never complained. After becoming his personal maid, it took a few months to make you fulfil his sexual needs, which is rather strange. A man like knows nothing of consent. He’s a tyrant. What he wants, he can get and he will. So why did he take months to make you fuck him when it was so easy before becoming his personal servant. Who knows? Maybe it was his underlying insecurities asking him to be sure.

“Naoya-sama...may I turn to look at you?” he grunts. “I’ll be sure to avoid any leakage” he nods. You slowly turn your body, still impaled on him. It was a different kind of pleasure but you withheld your moans. Your face are so close. This moment is intimate, for you and him. Almost unreal. He’s gorgeous. That red tint of blush and sex afterglow just added more to his beauty. “Naoya-sama. May I speak more than usual?” “Only because you asked for permission. Proceed.” he avoided looking into your eyes. A shy one. “I appreciate my master’s kindness. Thank you for allowing me to speak. Naoya-sama...please be honest with me. Are you trying to impregnate me? Why? I’m just a lowly servant. I could never be perfect to bear your children, or be a concubine. I have no value. You are too kind. We should stop. I will remove myself now. Thank you for your time master.” You slowly push yourself off him. He grabs your arm harshly, definitely bruising it.

“You said no leakage. And how dare you speak to your master so insolently? How dare you question what holds value to me or not. You are a lowly servant. You’re a filthy no-name bitch. You live to lick my shoes and pick up money I throw on the ground. You are not going anywhere. You are staying on this bed with me in you. You have to be reminded who your master is.” Oooh, you definitely pissed him off. You winced at his words. They were normal, he always told you where your place is so it wasn’t a surprise. “You stupid woman. Now it’s out. You moved and now it’s out.” he sounds disappointed. He was whining like a child. “Naoya-sama!” he plunged into you hard. “Yes, scream my name you stupid bitch.” He went faster and faster. “Don’t cum inside...I’m not worthy master” “Shut your mouth. Worthy? No woman is worthy of me. Selfish. All they care about are themselves. Such an inferior gender thinking what they know is worthy? I decide. I decide your worth.” He changed positions. He pressed both your legs close to your chest. A mating press. He was so deep. The squelching of his previous load acting as lubricant was erotic.

“You. Your lewd body. You were always trying to seduce me. Those luscious thighs. These fat breasts. You were made for child-bearing. The look you make when I fuck you. So in awe, eyes rolling back. Ah. Ah. Sometimes you even forgot payment because you rushed to clean yourself. You were the only memorable one. The sounds you make. You’re erotic. No one else can see or hear you except me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Naoya drilled you senseless. So desperate to hear you. Desperate to look at your expressions. Desperate to conquer you. “N-naoya-sama! Ah! Ah! Naoya-sama!” You had practically lost any sense and all you could feel was his dick fucking you mercilessly. The veins. The length. The girth. He fit like a glove. He had shaped you to be accustomed to him. “When that no-name clan came yesterday for a meeting. I saw your look. You enjoyed how they all looked at you didn’t you? You slut. You’d want them to fuck you like this right? Only I can though. You smiled and served them. Desperate bitch.” The meeting yesterday?

Your mind wandered. Oh yes, a small clan that are partners with the Zenin in business. The heirs were quite good-looking and well-mannered, how could a lady not feel flattered. You can’t remember if you specifically smiled or enjoyed their small talk. Was being polite not a simple necessity a servant should have towards guests? To ensure their master was not seen as tardy. You can’t remember their names or faces. All you remember was Naoya slipping his hand under your garments and fingering you. “You enjoyed people watching right? Especially since they were good-looking. I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. Disgusting piece of shit.” He got even rougher. You don’t know how many times you’ve orgasmed and how many times Naoya had ejaculated in you but he was still at it. He’s jealous huh.. how strange. A man that could have anything and anyone in the world was strangely possessive of a worthless woman like you. “You can’t show them those expressions. Mine. Your kindness mine. Your sounds. Mine. You’re my servant.” he sounds sad.

Despite being in subspace, you unintentionally reach out to your master and cub his face. “Naoya-sama. I love you.” Those unintentional words made the malicious man slow down his pace. “What did you say?” Is he angry? Oof, all the best dealing with another tantrum. You couldn’t feel anything. Legs sore. Your mind had wandered. The pleasure had made you dumb yet the little consciousness you have for your master remained. “I love you, Naoya.” His cock twitched. “Again” “I love you.” “Again” “I love you, Naoya-sama”. All that repeating made you come to your senses. “I don’t remember the men from yesterday. All I remember were your thick fingers in me. My expressions and mewls were for you. If this body is what you want then I will offer it all to you, my master. Ask, you are my master after all. All of me is yours.” You get up a bit, and stagger, he fucked the life outta ya. “Master, allow me to speak.” a small dumbfounded nod. You slip a hand onto his cheek and kiss him. Both of you never shared a kiss.

It was too intimate for a servant to kiss their master. Only their betrothed would be worthy but you couldn’t help it, you needed to assure this man-child, you were no one else’s. “Master, I-“ “Naoya. When we’re alone call me Naoya.” a small smile crept onto your lips. “Naoya, breed me.” His face was flushed. That’s exactly what he wanted. Through the night, he fucked you in every inch of the room. Both of your fluids and smell, absolutely drenched his quarters. He never once ejaculated outside. Every drip of his semen was in your womb, he wouldn’t even pull out, in fear it would leak. Shower? He fucked you while showering too. His animalistic senses stopped when a knock on the door came.

“Lay down with your back arched. It can’t leak.” He put on a robe and answered. A woman’s voice. “Naoya-sama. Naobito-sama is calling for you.” “Tch. Annoying old man” he slams the door shut. “Oi. Arch even more.” He came back to you. “I’m going to put this in you so you don’t spill.” He was holding, A DILDO? This man has a dildo? “N-naoya-sama, t-thats...” “Some servant I had my way with some time ago left it to fuck with me. I kept it not knowing what it was but now the shape looks like it’d plug you up good.” A servant he had his ways with huh. You were just another one right. He seemed to have noticed your train of thought. “Stupid woman. That servant is long gone. And now. You’re mine. No other stupid bitch except you. Stop thinking nonsense. Maybe I’ll remind you a bit more. That old man can wait.” He unrobed and pounced you. You definitely can’t walk for a few days.

“I’ll plug you up and we’ll go see the old man” he sounds, quite joyful. “If you move and leak, I won’t hesitate to fill you up again.” Ah. He’s definitely Naoya Zenin. “Naoya-sama” you smile. “What? You should be grateful that I’ve allowed you to speak so many times since last night.” You can’t help but giggle. A slight blush forms on Naoya’s face. “How dare you laugh at m-“ you pull him in for a kiss. He reluctantly kissed back. “Naoya-sama, I love you.” you smiled. He thrusted into you without warning. “The old man can definitely wait. You filled with my child is more important.” God knows how many times he’d come in your womb without pulling out, there’s no way you’re not pregnant. “Naoya-sama...let’s stop here...I can’t walk properly if we continue, then a different servant will have to serve you.” He was about to argue but held his tongue. “Fine.” He pulled out and slowly shoved the dildo in. Looks like he’d rather have wobbly-legged you than another servant. You can't help but smile. “Go shower and meet me back here. And clean the room after meeting with the old man. The smell...erotic but dreadful. Wash everything.” “Yes my master.” You hurriedly got clothed and rushed to the servant quarters to clean up. You were happy. What a weirdo.

[comfortwriting]

Best friends Brother - G.W

Part 1 of my slow burn mini-series, inspired by and dedicated to @amourtentiaa , want to be tagged? Let me know!

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Part 2

George Weasley x Fem Reader 

About: The Reader is falling for her best mates older brother, she confines in Ron who is already afraid of losing his best friend to the brothers he’s so pressured to be like.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mention of food and eating, but of angst, George punching a creep.

Walking away from Hagrid’s hut towards the castle, thoughts about the more quiet Weasley twin filled your hazy head - you were planning on shooting your shot, but first you needed some advice and the only person who could do that right now is your best friend Ron - currently chewing your ear off about Hermione and the house elves. 

“She doesn’t know when to stop does she? All the S.P.E.W nonsense, if she brings it up one more time-”

“Hey, do you think George likes anyone?” you asked as cool as possible, trying to contain your nervousness and excitement. 

Although you and George had only spoken few words to one another, he was all you could think about, all you ever thought about, day in day out. You would share sweet glances and looks across the common room in the evening, the beautiful amber glare coming from the flames projecting onto George’s face, making him look like an angel. 

As much as you liked him, you were terrified that he wouldn’t feel the same, that he only saw you as his little brothers best friend - you hated it. 

Ron slowed down from his brisk walk and he continued to stare at the ground “George? As in.. my brother?” 

“yeah” you smiled shyly, swallowing hard. 

Ron could feel his heart flutter, the idea of another person - his best friend - favouring one of his legendary twin brothers over him made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t lose anyone else, he wouldn’t let it.

He pondered his thoughts, perhaps you were asking for someone else, someone Ron didn’t care about - the desperation in his stomach kept churning to find out. 

“I don’t know” he replied in a huff “we don’t really talk much, why you asking anyway?” 

You went quiet, suddenly finding interest in the scenery as the two of you edged closer to the castle. 

“uh, no reason” you lied, running your hand through your hair. 

For all of Ron’s flaws, he could tell when his best friend was lying - he never failed calling you out for it in the past, you learnt not to play any card games with him - especially when galleons were on the table. 

The two of you entered the loud castle, pushing past students in the hall, making your way to the Gryffindor common room.

“you like him, don’t you?” Ron muttered under his breath, making sure everyone else around you couldn’t hear.

You sighed and made eye contact with Ron, his facial expression even more sour than when he puked up slugs in first year. 

You walked up the stairs and held on to the rail, looking around for the Fat Lady “I suppose I do, I was thinking of asking him to-”

Ron could feel the sweat form in his palms and under his arms, images of you and George being together all the time instead of him flashed before him.

“I don’t know, Y/N, you’re two years younger than him, you haven’t spoken more than ten words to each other.” 

Your heart pained for a moment, your spirits crushing like the ingredients in one of Snape’s potions.

“I just don’t think he’ll like you that much, I don’t want you to get hurt.” he finished, the two of you finally reaching the portrait. 

“I guess so” you mumbled “you know him better than I do.”

Over the next few days you couldn’t stomach being around George, each time you looked into his gorgeous eyes and seeing him smile, caused your heart pain, a lump forming in your throat, and hot tears filling your eyes. 

At first George didn’t notice but when he would wave and smile - only to be ignored, he couldn’t help but overthink; wondering if he had done something wrong. 

It wasn’t just George who you ignored, you kept away from your best friend Ron too - Ron felt like shit but you were away from George and that gave him enough of a clear conscience to sleep at night. 

You couldn’t sleep, you missed your best friend even when he hurt your feelings, you also felt hopeless, the only person you ever showed an interest in wouldn’t even give you a chance.  

“What’s been up with Y/N lately? George asked his younger brother, buttering his toast, causing Ron to almost choke on his. 

“What you on about?” 

George rolled his eyes and swallowed his food, “unbelievable you are, she’s been avoiding you like the plague and she won’t even look at me.”  

“So, did you make up your mind yet?” 

You swore silently under your breath, recognising the voice who called out to you - an attractive and charming Hufflepuff student in George’s year with short black hair kept asking you over and over to go on a date with him in Hogsmeade, each time you said no had failed to satisfy his desire. 

“Uh” you were trying to figure out the best way to tell him to fuck off, but then again, what did you have to lose? “yeah, I’ll be there” you faked a smile. 

Ron watched in the distance and felt relieved, from his perspective, the possibility of you and George seemed incredibly slim to none. He walked over towards you as soon as the lad split, a smile creeping up on his face. 

“Y/N, alright?” he smiled, his hands in his pockets. 

You stared at him, yes you were hurt, but you missed him - he could do much worse to cause a much bigger fall out between the two of you. 

“I suppose” you sighed “walk with me to Transfiguration class?” 

Ron smiled “can do”

“and took your bloody shirt in!” you scolded him, bumping into him playfully. 

As much as you enjoyed visiting Hogsmeade, you couldn’t help but want to go back home and climb back into your warm bed, hiding away from the world - but your habit of trying to see the best in people lead you here - waiting outside Honey Dukes for your date to arrive. 

“Look at you!” he called out, walking over and kissing your hand “ready for the best day of your life?” he grinned.

Best day of my life? with you? I should’ve stayed in bed.

“Sure” you replied, plastering a fake smile on your face. 

The best day of your life wasn’t too bad, you had someone new to talk to, to try and get your mind off things - but your heart couldn’t help but yearn for George. You looked around the shops thinking of the products he liked, disliked, and what he bought for Ron at Christmas. 

Your date had more to blab about himself than get to know you, he held your hand and bought you a much needed Butterbeer - but he talked so much that he didn’t even get round to drinking his own. The more he had to say, the more he tried to impress you, the more you disliked him, making you fall for George even more. 

Finally breaking out from the busy and overwhelming pub and out into the cold, your date stood in front of you with a strange expression on his face. 

“So?” he shrugged

“so, what?” you stared at him, your patience wearing thin. 

The shared laughter between George and Ron came to a halt when George spotted you with his classmate, he knitted his brows together. 

“Why’s Y/N around that plonker?” he asked his younger brother. 

Ron looked at you then back to George “she’s on a date”

George shook his head “he’s an absolute creep” 

The two of them stared, the student took a hold of your hand and tried to pull you in for a kiss, you pulled away and glared at him, trying to not make a scene. 

“Fucking pervert!” George hissed, storming over towards the two of you “Hey!”

George clenched his jaw, his nostrils flared and his glaring gaze settled on on the lad, he bunched his right hand into a fist and swung, everything went in slow motion as George punched him in the face. 

You were speechless, you didn’t know what to say, all you could do was stare and watch the fight unfold. 

“Stay away from her or my foot will rip you a new one!” George threatened him, he turned to you, his facial expression instantly turning soft.

“th-thank you” 

“you don’t need to thank me love, are you alright?” George searching your eyes with his, full of care and concern. 

Your heart fluttered, his voice, him speaking to you sounded like the most fascinating birds chirping, and his caring face caused fireworks in your stomach to erupt into the sky. 

You wanted to take your chance, ask him out and start over but before you could do any of that, let alone reply, Ron hurried over and interrupted; putting you back in your place and making you remember how his brother felt about you. 

“Proper shiner he’ll have in the morning” Ron laughed “sort your knuckles out George, if anyone sees they’ll send a letter home.” 

The fluttering in your heart died down, the chirping of the birds instantly turning into the most dreadful squawks, and the fireworks in your stomach burning out, starving the embers before they could relight.  

“Thanks again” you murmured quietly, flashing George one last smile before walking away, wanting to retreat to your bed and hide away. 

George had to admit, he felt quite hurt that you went back to ignoring him after he had your back the other week - he knew that you didn’t owe him anything, not even an explanation - but he couldn’t understand why even after making up with Ron, you still refused to look at him.

Sitting on the sofa in the common room in your pyjamas, you flicked through your Quidditch magazine and blinked over and over whilst you looked across the page, sleep trying to pull you in. 

“Georgie, I’ve already said-” 

“Shhh!”

Jolting awake, you looked behind you and stared at the twins, long roles of parchment in one hand and a map in the other, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, closing your magazine. 

“It’s okay boys, I’m going to bed anyway.” you yawned again, slowly getting off the sofa. 

Fred and George shared a look, the older twin nodding his head towards you “go on then, mate, I’ll be upstairs.”

Fred walked past you, he whispered a “goodnight!” and went off to his dorm, leaving you alone with the person you wanted more than anyone in the world. 

George pursed his lips, standing around awkwardly before approaching you “Y/N, can we talk?” he asked softly. 

You nodded slowly, the nerves piping up in your tummy. 

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been ignoring me, love” he said softly “have I done something wrong?” 

This was your moment, not to ask him out - but to tell him the truth. 

You pushed your stray hairs out of your face and sighed, the lad of your dreams standing beside you, looking down on you. 

“I have feelings for you George” you admitted, your mouth going dry “and that’s why I have to stay away from you, because I know you’re never going to feel the same.” 

George went quiet, the embers from the fire spreading and making it set alight, the amber tones coming from the flames resting on his face. He smiled for a moment and licked his lips, looking into your eyes.

“Tomorrow night” he whispered softly in your ear “where we first met”

Tag list: @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl  

[fanfic-me-up]

Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more? 

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub​ bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi​ and @im-here-for-the-heroes​ for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk​ this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?” 

Denki swallows. 

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you. 

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock. 

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm. 

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor. 

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor. 

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position. 

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!” 

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.” 

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?” 

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead. 

“Ho-hold on, let me just…” 

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer. 

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business. 

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!” 

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.” 

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.” 

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years? 

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time? 

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane. 

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight. 

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.” 

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.” 

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A. 

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone. 

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.” 

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth. 

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular? 

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed. 

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid. 

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras? 

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…” 

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.” 

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.” 

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” 

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.” 

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch. 

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army? 

“What the fuck, Denki?” 

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?” 

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?” 

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.  

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you. 

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?” 

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own. 

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.” 

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared. 

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be. 

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in. 

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again. 

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?” 

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.” 

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-” 

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line. 

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish. 

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second. 

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!” 

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.” 

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?” 

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.” 

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes. 

You both stare straight ahead at nothing. 

“Did you mean it?” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?” 

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him? 

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did. 

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes. 

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever. 

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!” 

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?” 

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

[timextoxhajima]

hi dana.. if it’s possible can i request some angsty wangsty based on niki la la lost you with eric🥺 and ughh i really love your writing like crazyyyyy

♥ title: la la lost you in april [also part of @sunlightwoo ‘s 12 Months I Loved You collaboration project]

♥ member: tbz eric

♥ genre: f2l, ex! eric x fem! reader, model! eric [SFW!]

♥ warnings: swearing, some mentions of sex [like, once i think]

♥ wc: 3.4k

♥ a/n: sis when i first heard the song I absolutely loved how you used 'angsty wangsty' so I hope this one does it for you the way you imagined it <3 [fyi i wrote it in like, a camcorder recording audio format which is something i’m trying out so please hmu on whether it’s difficult to read/understand!]

[REC: APRIL 2, 2019 - 6:39PM] SOLO LOG #1

Are you seeing this? This is the most beautiful sunset I’ve seen. I gotta get a shot of this-

Hey! Hey! I could help you take a picture with the sunset if you want to!

Oh! Would- Would you? That’d be great!

Of course! 

...

Here. Is it alright?

Yeah, yeah, it’s cool! Thank you so much!

Are you recording something? Is it a- Are you vlogging? Are you a vlogger?

Yeah, no... I’m actually on a solo trip for a bit.

Oh, where are you from?

Just the next state. 

Ah! You’re taking a break off... life then? I assume? Sorry if that came out weird.

No! No no! It’s alright! Yeah, I just needed a short break from... y’know, school and everything. My semester ended pretty early on so I took the chance to come out here and... see some new sights, meet some new people.

I get that. Well, for a start, what’s your name?

Oh, I’m y/n. Nice to meet you! And you?

I’m Eric. 

[REC: APRIL 4, 2019 - 10:34PM] SOLO LOG #2

It is the 4th of April, 2019. I know, I know, I’m meant to do a daily vlog for all the 50 days I’m here but... it’s been... wow. Um... so I met Eric, the first day I touched down. The beach is just, about a 10 minute walk down and the sunsets are absolutely gorgeous. But uh... call me a fool and say that I’m living in the clouds but- what are the chances?

He’s funny, he’s such a great person to be around with y’know? Never a moment of like, awkwardness or stress and my God, look at me talking about a boy like that, though I met him 2 days ago. 

...

Um, he’s a freelance model. For those freelance shoots by UNIQLO or Target or something and he complains about the pay sometimes, but he looks good infront of a camera, so he’s... actually the one who won at life, really.

I’m not seeing him soon because he’s got a shoot out of town and he’ll be back next week. But I did get his number and he’s been texting me since. 

...

Wouldn’t it be funny if we end up together and then I have this whackass of a reel to show him? Jesus... I need to stop getting ahead of myself here. Freakin’ living in the clouds, aren’t I?

...

Anyway, I’m gonna go and see if I can get my weird projector shit up and working. See you.

[REC: APRIL 7, 2019 - 5:14AM] SOLO LOG #3

It is... 5am... uh, April 7th- and I was just binging FRIENDS through the night, waiting for the sunrise before I get some shut eye and then... Eric just asked me out. Oh my God! Um, he’s coming back this Thursday and I’ll go see him at the airport before we go get dinner.

It was really funny ‘cause he had to wake up early for a shoot today and so his day has just begun but mine’s coming to an end and I just- I’m rambling so much, it’s kinda- it’s kinda sad, isn’t it?

I think I’m too happy to sleep right now so I’m just gonna text him some more before the sun rises- oh! He replied!

...

Anyway, I’m gonna go and finish up this last episode before sleeping. Hopeful I can sleep. Bye!

[REC: APRIL 11, 2019 - 4:28PM] SOLO LOG #4

I am on my way out right now to go meet Eric at the airport, and I’m... it’d be an understatement to say that I’m excited. I know I’ve only known him for like, 2 days before he left but... I miss him. Is that possible? Missing someone despite knowing them for 2 days?

Anyway, I gotta go. Don’t wanna be late to see him.

[REC: APRIL 13, 2019 - 10:23AM] SOLO LOG #5

Oh! Is that what you had-

Yeah! It’s the same camera!

What are you vlogging for, actually? Like-

Nothing, really. It’s just for my own usage-

Wait, you didn’t like set that up last night while we-

Oh, God, no! Who do you think I am?

I don’t know, I mean, we’ve known each other for... is it two weeks-

Just under two weeks-

Jeez-

I know, I know, oh my God.

...

I don’t regret it though. Yeah, like- I don’t really go down to the beach that often in the first place and it just- it just so happened that you were there that day and I saw you struggling with this old thing-

I was not struggling!

Yeah you were!

I wasn’t-

I’m kidding! Gosh, you’re so cute.

...

Are you gonna have the camera recording while this carries on?

I forgot it was on-

One day we’re gonna accidentally make a sex tape-

Eric!

[REC: APRIL 17, 2019 - 1:15AM] SOLO LOG #6

-ould you pass me the hot water?

Mm? What?

The kettle over on the counter. Careful, it’s hot. Yeah, thanks.

Do you need help with-

It’s just instant noodles, sweet. Doubt I need a diploma for this. You’re recording again?

Yeah, does it bother you?

No, no, ‘course not. Though that means I can’t really do whatever I want to now.

What does that mea-

...

I can... still taste that bit of milk tea you had just now-

Could you tell it’s zero sugar?

I don’t think that matters, it’s still sweet and not great for your health to have that so much.

Aw, and yet you’re the one who suggested noodles at this timing, yeah?

You were hungry too!

...

Here, it’s done. Help me get the bowls? 

Did you even wash these?

Yeah, I did. If you don’t trust me, you can run them under the water for a bit.

Mhm. Here.

If it’s not enough, we can call for Macs.

Y’know, I’ve never had Macs past midnight back at home.

What? Really? Well, when you get back in May, would you try?

Yeah, why not? Maybe I’ll do that when I’m back in school. 

...

What date is it today?

April... hold on, um, 17. Careful, that’s hot.

...

When are you leaving again?

May 22. 

Are you planning on coming back anytime soon after?

I don’t know. I have school to worry about and the only other time I can come back’s probably during winter break in November.

...

I won’t be around in November.

Mm? Why not?

I’m moving.

To where?

I’m not sure yet, but I need to move depending on whether I get it and where the shoot’s at.

Shoot? It’s a big project, huh?

Yeah, it’s- it’s a pretty big deal.

...

I’ll- Let me just go and...

[REC: APRIL 20, 2019 - 7:49PM] SOLO LOG #7

-idn’t have to!

No, c’mon! It’s such a great time to get this on camera! Come on, tell us what just happened!

Well, I just scored a huge model contract with Calvin Klein - in Manhattan.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I’m so fucking proud of you, oh my God! Can you believe it-

No, fuck off, I can’t either! 

Oh! Calvin Klein!

...

I swear, you’re an angel sent to me-

Fuck off!

I’m serious! it’s so timely- I just can’t- I’m just so happy to have met you.

...

Well, you heard it first here, ladies and gentlemen. Eric Sohn is a new model for Calvin Klein - Manhattan.

[REC: APRIL 21, 2019 - 12:40PM] SOLO LOG #8

It is 12.40pm... April 21st, 2019. I’m finally back in my apartment after crashing at Eric’s for the last... 10 days? I think it was 10 days. My clothes were running out and I didn’t want to hike up his water bills so I just came back and- y’know did my own laundry.

...

Well, it’s- it’s been an absolute dream. The last thing I expected to... have, or meet? Here, is Eric. Um, but I know I’m probably going to regret this. Especially when May 22 comes. Uh... this is... it’s real bad. I mean, we’re great, y’know? But... it’s bad, because I know it’ll hurt. Like a bitch. When my time here is up, and I gotta go back to my reality, and Eric’s gotta stick to his. 

We haven’t really talked about it. May. I don’t think he wants to, and I don’t think I want to either. 50 days is too short. Either that, or I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. I shouldn’t have gone to the beach that day, in that hour. 

...

I just wish we had more time. I wish 24 hours were... maybe about 100 seconds more per minute. Does that make sense? 160 seconds per minute. Then again, I don’t think that’d solve my problem. I’ll still be on a ticking... time bomb. 

...

I know I shouldn’t say this. I know I can’t. I know I can’t afford to. But... I... I love him. I love Eric. With every... bit of me. It’s so... disgustingly cliché, but I feel so... comfortable with him. There’s really nothing we’d fight about, and even if we disagreed on something, we’d play it off like a debate, then forget about it the next day.

...

I love him. I do. And I’m going to regret this later. Without a doubt.

...

[REC: APRIL 27, 2019 - 2:02AM] SOLO LOG #9

-ou can see the stars?

I don’t know, that’s why I’m trying, sweet.

...

Can you see them?

Yeah, maybe if I just turn this ISO- Oh! I can kinda see the North Star-

Oh! Yeah, you can! It’s really feint though.

Right.

It’s okay, we can just lay it down here-

On the grass? Will your camera be fine?

Yeah, yeah, or else you can just put in on top of my bag- here.

...

Here, can you see me? Am I in frame?

Yeah, you’re in frame.

Okay, great. Now get over here!

...

I can taste the smoothie you had just now.

Too sweet?

A little.

...

Oh my God! Put me down! Oh- not there! It’s ticklish- AHHHHH!

...

y/n, I have something to tell you.

Mm? What is it?

...

Hello? Earth to Eric?

I... I love you. So much... and I can’t bear to see you go in May. 

Oh, Eric...

No, I- I don’t want you to stay- or even think about it, ‘cause, you have your priorities and I have mine y’know...

Mhm.

I just... I just wished we had more time. 

I do too. I really do.

...

Eric?

Hm?

I love you too.

...

...

...

[REC: MAY 1, 2019 - 4:23AM] SOLO LOG #10

1st May. 4...30? Am? I believe. Um, Eric’s sound asleep in his bed and I couldn’t sleep so I decided to do a log. 

...

I have... 3 weeks left. 4 weeks have gone past just like that, and I don’t know what to think about it. I came for a 50-day retreat. No stress, just myself and peace and quiet and tranquility and yet-

...

I- I don’t know if I can do this.

...

[REC: MAY 7, 2019 - 3:58PM] SOLO LOG #11

So, Eric’s in shoot right now and I’m on the way into the studio with some donuts and coffee to surprise him. I called his manager and asked if it was okay so- I’m pretty psyched to see his workspace. 

...

Hi, I’m y/n, I’m here to visit Eric?

Ah, okay! Hold on, let me just get you signed in with the pass-

Count me in!

You sure? This Saturday at the prep-party?

Yeah- Oh! 

Eric!

y/n! What are you doing here?

I wanted to surprise you. Am I... interrupting anything?

Oh, not at all!

You must be y/n! Eric’s told me so much about you!

Did he? And you are...?

I’m Chelsea! I’ve been attached to the same Calvin Klein contract he recently got, so you could say we’re colleagues!

Well, nice to meet you! Oh, right, these donuts and coffee are meant for you guys actually!

Oh! You’re too kind! Eric, you’re such a lucky man.

I know, she’s just... everything.

Anyway, thank you so much for these. I’ll bring them back down to the studio for the crew to share. But Eric’s pretty much done for the day actually, so you guys can leave if you want to!

Are you sure? Don’t you need help downstairs with the equipment?

No, no! It’s fine, there’re more than enough people downstairs. Go have your date, and maybe you can bring her along with you for the prep-party this weekend!

What’s the prep-party... preparing for?

Oh, you’re so adorable! It’s a prep-party for the end-of-May shoot we’re gonna have. it’s a collab with DAZED so it’s a pretty big project.

You never told me you were involved in a collab with DAZED.

I was gonna tell you today.

He has been pretty busy recently, maybe slipped his mind. Anyway, thank you so much for the donuts and I’ll hope to see you at the pier this Saturday, mm?

Yeah, sure. Thanks Chels.

No problem! It was so nice to meet you, y/n, I’ll see you Saturday!

Okay, bye!

Bye, Chelsea! It was nice to meet you!

Bye!

...

Sweet, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?

I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought you said you’d end pretty late?

The filming was cut short because the shots were better than expected so we ended early.

Oh, I wanted to film you while you were at work.

You have that on?

Yeah- why?

No, just wondering. 

Are you uncomfortable?

No, no, it’s just... I really didn’t expect you to come to the studio. 

...

[REC: MAY 11, 2019 - 11:12PM] SOLO LOG #12

It’s 11:12pm, 11th May, 2019. 11 days to departure.

...

I... saw... Chelsea and Eric... um, out by the garage- 

...

Well, I guess... it looked like they were just... having a really good talk. Or something. 

...

I left. I couldn’t watch it. So, I left without telling Eric. I did tell his boss that I wasn’t feeling well and I had to leave first. 

...

I guess this is the part where I regret it, isn’t it? Um... I don’t know... how... I’m gonna explain this to him when I see him again. Which is supposed to be- um- the rest of the night. I was supposed to go back to his place with him and I’ll stay for the weekend before I come back to pack my things, so-

...

y/n, are you home?

...

shit.

y/n, I know you’re home. I heard you talking. Open the door, I need to talk to you.

...

[REC: MAY 12, 2019 - 2:00AM] SOLO LOG #13

...

I look like shit, don’t I? God, my eyes hurt like a bitch. 

...

I don’t think I need to say what just happened for you to guess what just happened, right? This... says it all. 

...

Fuck. 

...

I shouldn’t have come here. How did- How did my retreat turn out- turn out like this? 

...

This is- This is too much. Too much in too short... of a time. 

...

I don’t think... I don’t think I can do it. Not anymore. 

...

[REC: MAY 19, 2019 - 9:59AM] SOLO LOG #14

It’s May 19th, 2019, almost 10am. I just came back from a morning walk by the beach just to... reminisce a little before I leave on Wednesday. 

...

I... haven’t seen Eric since the prep-party. I blocked him and I told him not to come over, though I think he has, like, a few times. I thought I heard someone come up to my door, but he never knocked. 

...

So, this is how it ends, huh? A 50-day romance cut short like that. Into about, 40? 

...

It’s crazy to think that I had... the experience of a whole relationship in 40 days. I definitely did not sign up for that when I booked this 50-day retreat. 

...

It was fun while it lasted, though. It was. I don’t think I’d find anybody else like Eric, and I guess it just sucks that it had to end like that. Things happen, right? That aren’t... in our control. 

...

...

...

[REC: MAY 21, 2019 - 8:07PM] SOLO LOG #15

May 21st. About 8pm. I leave in about 15 hours. 

...

All my stuff’s packed. Definitely more things to bring home than I brought here. Half of these things were bought by Eric and given to me. I’m... actually not sure if I should bring them back. 

...

I don’t- I just don’t think I’d have the heart to throw them away.

...

Nor look at them when I’m home. 

...

Should I even bring this camera home? Maybe I should wipe your memory before I bring you home, hmm?

...

It feels like a dream, doesn’t it? Everything that’s happened. It feels like a fever dream. Maybe when I’m finally home, I’d wake up and it’d be the day I come here.

...

Maybe.

...

[REC: MAY 22, 2019 - 10:03AM] SOLO LOG #16

-ny more luggage?

Nope.

Alright then, I think you’re all set. You still have about an hour’s time before the gates are open so you can get a cup of coffee or something, yeah?

Okay, thank you!

Have a nice flight ma’am.

Thanks.

...

Good evening ma’am, can I check your boarding pass?

Yeah, sure.

...

Okay, you’re good to go. Have a safe flight.

Thank you!

...

[REC: MAY 22, 2019 - 11:34AM] SOLO LOG #17

It is about 11.30am and I’m on the flight, and here’s the view outside. Sky’s pretty clear and this thing says that the weather’s great so, it should be a smooth flight without turbulence.

...

This is it. This is really it. 

...

...

...

Um-

Hi, ma’am, I’m gonna need you to keep your camcorder.

Oh! Yeah, sure, sure, sorry!

[REC: APRIL 2, 2020 - 12:48AM] ERIC LOG #1

Wow, this is... weird. How did you do this last year?

...

Um, hi. y/n. If you’re watching this then I’ve somehow managed to get this synced into your camera by some weird... bluetooth, iCloud shit that Felix helped me figure out. 

...

It’s been a year. And... I just thought you should... see this, or hear me out, at least. I know we didn’t end on the best terms... and I’m sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you for being unreasonable for something that was... suspicious. I should’ve understood. 

...

I should’ve been there. To see you off. And I’m sorry I didn’t. I... was scared, that I wouldn’t be able to let you go if I went to send you off. I was a coward. I still am. 

...

But I do want you to know that... those 50 days were the best days of my life. Albeit it ended horribly, but nothing could... nothing- nothing will ever replace what happened last April. 

...

I said I love you and... I still do. Every day I think about you and your smile and your voice and- and I cry to sleep... worrying that I’d forget how you sound like, or how you laugh and how... how you smell like. My bed smelt like you even after you left. 

...

I just- I love you. And I miss you. And I’d do anything to go back to what we had. I’d do anything to get- to get you back. 

...

I’m sorry.

...

the clip comes to an automatic stop. the white triangle slapped onto the screen, begging you to play it again. you look up from the screen, watching the famous calvin klein ad that hasn’t stopped playing in the last month. 

he hasn’t changed one bit. not his hair, not his smile, not his voice. 

it’s a bittersweet pot of memory stashed in the back of your head when the memories flood back. looking back down at the camera, you count back the days - it was synced just last night. 

the pile of tissues by your thighs are carelessly huddled into the bin next to your feet, mentally berating yourself for going through the memory instead of formatting it. 

you stand, fingers shutting the screen back onto its body with a soft click. the tv blacks out when you press the red button on its remote. 

you’re halfway into your kitchen when there’s a knock at your door, and you immediately gasp, blinking rapidly.

“oh, it’s my fucking projector!”

rushing to the door, you don’t hesitate to get the door open. 

and yet, like the heavens were providing you with all the light to stop you from doubting yourself, your lungs empty themselves like vacuums. 

your heart stops.

your breathing stops.

“eric... what are you doing here?”

[americasass91]

His Kind of Beautiful

Hello lovely people! I don’t even know where to begin here. My ex popped up as a friend I may know on Facebook the other day. Of course it brought up all these memories. (I’ve been with my husband for over a decade so this ex was from way back when.) Anyways, I couldn’t help but think back to when and why we broke up. We worked together (that was a mistake) and I was chatting with one of our coworkers. The guy looked at me and was like ‘I don’t want to get in the middle of anything but your boyfriend said something about you the other day and it bothered me.’ I told him to tell me what he said. ‘He said you weren’t pretty enough to blow him.’ (Fun fact! I had already blown him a few times by this point.) So of course I thought my life was ruined. I mean I was only 17/18. I called him right away and asked him if it was true. The fucker didn’t even deny it! He was like I was just joking around. So I told him since I wasn’t pretty enough to blow him, I wasn’t pretty enough to date him either. That’s the last time I spoke to him.

Anyways! That’s what inspired this little fic. I know we all go through days where we don’t feel pretty or beautiful. But you know what? We are all beautiful no matter what! Please if you ever feel less than that and need to talk, I am here and willing to listen! Nobody should go through life feeling anything less than beautiful.

So I knew I needed to somehow incorporate this into a fic. At first I was going to go with Steve but I took a look at my Masterlist and realized I only had one Andy fic on there. That’s just despicable! So without any further ado, please enjoy this fic with our lovely, handsome floofy haired lawyer daddy!

Rating: Explicit (Like I could write something that doesn’t involve sex with Andrew)

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, fingering, unprotected sex(Remember: Sex is cleaner with a packaged weiner), and just Andy being fluffy

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

You honestly didn’t even know why you had agreed to this. You hated first dates in general, let alone a blind date.

But your friend, Jane, assured you this guy was handsome and nice and worth your time to go out with.

So, you pulled a blue dress from your closet that you’d only worn maybe twice in your life and actually did your eye makeup.

After getting fully ready you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. For once you didn’t hate the woman staring back at you. This dress happened to accentuate your curves and the color of your eyeshadow made your eyes pop. You wouldn’t necessarily say you were pretty, but you looked decent.

You slip on your heels and grab your purse and head out of your apartment. As you go to lock your door, the apartment door behind you opens.

“Good evening, neighbor.”

You turn around with a smile on your face and return the greeting to your sinfully handsome neighbor, Andy.

He can’t help but notice how pretty you look. “Where are you going all dressed up?”

You blush and start heading towards the elevator together. “Oh, my friend set me up on a blind date. I’m nervous. Haven’t been on a date in awhile.”

He presses the button for the lobby. “Blind date, huh? Yeah I went on one of those recently. First date since the divorce. It was...interesting.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as you both headed into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. You turn towards him. “Interesting, how?”

“Well, for starters, she was almost an hour late. Then when she showed up, she didn’t even apologize for being late. She just sat down and demanded the waiter bring her a cocktail. By snapping her fingers at him.”

The elevator doors open. You head into the lobby and notice Andy following you. “So I think it’s safe to say you aren’t calling her for a second date?” He opens the door to the outside for you. You smile in thanks and head out into the warm evening air of Boston.

He rolls his eyes as he follows you onto the street and hails down a cab. “Absolutely not.” He gestures for you to take the cab.

You look at him confused. “Don’t you need one?”

He waves you off. “Nah, I’m heading to pick up Jake to take him to dinner. He finally found some time to fit his old man into his ‘busy’ teenager schedule.” He heads towards his Audi you now realize is parked in front of the building right behind your cab.

You scoff at him as you open the cab door. “Old man? Oh, please. You can’t be more than what? 38?”

He opens the door to his own vehicle and smirks at you. “Try 43, sweetheart. Hey! Good luck on your date!” He waves and gets into his car. You return the wave and get into the cab and give the driver the address to the restaurant and try to get your mind off of how good Andy’s ass looked in the jeans he was wearing.

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You arrived at the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. You wanted to get there a little early so you could get a drink from the bar and calm your nerves.

You find a seat away from the other patrons and order a glass of wine. You scan your eyes over the room to see if your date has arrived yet. You weren’t entirely sure what he looked like but you knew he was going to be wearing a red shirt.

The bartender sets your wine in front of you. You hand over a 10 dollar bill and tell him to keep the change. As you sip your wine, you check your phone for the time. 7:02. You’re about ready to text your friend to ask if your date is normally late when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You turn around and look up at who you assume to be your date for the evening. He was handsome. Not as handsome as Andy, but handsome enough.

He gives you a small smile. “Hi, are you Y/N?”

You nod your head with a smile. “Yes, hi! It’s nice to meet you. You must be Jason?” You then gesture to the seat next to you. “Would you like to have a drink before we get a table?”

He nods once and takes a seat next to you and flags down the bartender to order a scotch.

The bartender sets the drink in front of him. Jason thanks him and pays for his drink.

You can feel the awkwardness start to creep in. And when that happens, you tend to get chatty.

“So, what do you do for a living?” You smile hoping to ease the tension building.

He turns to look you up and down. And not subtly. He shakes his head in disapproval and downs his drink before standing up. “Listen, I’m sorry but I can’t do this. Jane lied to me.”

You can’t help the confused look that crosses your face. “She lied to you? How?”

He gives you another not so subtle once over. “She told me you were beautiful. And no offense, but I just don’t see it.”

You can’t help the jaw drop. Sure you knew you weren’t gorgeous but damn. You’d never had a man be bold enough to actually say it to your face. “So, you’re just gonna leave? Not even give me a chance because I’m not your version of beautiful?”

He scoffs and checks out a girl that walks by the two of you. “What can I say? I’ve got standards that you just don’t meet.”

You feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. That’s it. You’re fucking done. You reach behind you and grab your wine glass and throw the drink in his face.

You grab your purse and head towards the door. You turn back to face him. “I may not meet your ‘beauty standards’ but at least I’m not an asshole!” With that you flip him off and head outside to hail a cab to head back home.

You manage to make it almost all the way home before the tears start to fall. Sure he was a stranger and his opinion didn’t matter. But it still fucking hurt that he didn’t want you and didn’t even think you were pretty enough to share a meal with. Your self esteem already sucked and this asshole sure as hell didn’t make it any better.

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The blue dress goes in the trash as soon as you step into your apartment. You take off your nice lace bra you had put on. You take your makeup off with a wipe and pull your hair up in a ponytail. You throw on some hello kitty pajama shorts and a t- shirt that’s at least 2 sizes too big for you.

Then you head into your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine from a bottle you keep in the fridge for emergencies. You think this classifies as one.

You grab your phone off the counter and call your favorite Chinese place. You order double what you normally do because nobody wants to sleep with you. Might as well eat whatever the fuck you wanted. God, you can’t believe you shaved your legs for that asshole.

The lady on the phone lets you know it’ll be at least an hour. You give her your card number and thank her before refilling your now empty glass.

As you’re sitting on the couch waiting for your food, you can’t help but replay the events of the evening. Then that takes you into a downward spiral as you think back to all of your exes.

Come to think of it, they’ve all left you for one reason or another. A majority of them cheated with someone way prettier than you. Wow, maybe you were the problem. Clearly you were going for guys out of your league.

Maybe you needed to reevaluate the standards you had. Which quite frankly, wasn’t much. You just wanted them to not be a serial killer.

Perhaps you should just give up on dating. You were perfectly happy alone. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for you.

Before your thoughts could spiral anymore, your doorbell rang. You glance at your phone. Damn that hour flew by.

You grab $10 out of your purse for a tip and open your door. As you’re grabbing the bags and thanking the delivery guy, Andy steps out of the elevator with confusion written all over his face. “Hey, Y/N. Thought you had a date?”

You could almost feel the tears trying to well up again. No, you weren’t going to cry. Especially in front of your handsome neighbor.

“Yeah, it uh, didn’t work out. Shit happens.”

He puts his key in the lock and opens his door then turns to look at you. “Not your type?”

You can’t help the rush of air that leaves your mouth. “Not exactly. I wasn’t his. Apparently Jane, our mutual friend, told him I was beautiful and well. He didn’t agree with her.”

Andy furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side. “What? Was he blind or something?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I just wasn’t up to his standards.”

Andy mumbles something under his breath. “Well, I’m sorry. Some guys can be real assholes.”

You wave him off. “No need to apologize. I get that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

Andy shakes his head. “Still, I’m sorry. That really sucks. And he really said you weren’t beautiful to your face?”

You give him a sad smile and shrug your shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to not being wanted. Have a nice night, Andy.”

You turn and head back into your apartment before he has a chance to reply. You don’t need his pity. You just need to drown yourself in the rest of your wine and gorge yourself on the greasy Chinese.

Just as you set the food down on the counter, you hear a knock at your door.

Confused, you head over and open it to find Andy standing there. And he looks kinda pissed.

“What do you mean you’re used to not being wanted?”

You sigh and put your hands on your hips. “It’s not the first time some guy hasn’t wanted me and it won’t be the last.”

Andy shakes his head as he pushes his way inside and shuts the door with his foot. “There’s just something I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “And what’s that?”

He then proceeds to walk closer to you, forcing you backwards until your back touches the wall. He puts his hands on either side of your head and gazes down at you. You’ve never been this close to him before. You can feel his chest move against yours as he breathes. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.God, he smells good.  You realize you’re not breathing and take a deep breath. He smiles down at you and takes his left hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen free from your ponytail.

“That some moron would think that you’re not beautiful. He’s fuckin crazy, Y/N.”

Your breath hitches as his left hand has now grabbed the back of your neck to raise your lips towards his. You close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable kiss. “I guess I’m just not everyone’s kind of beautiful.”

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against yours. “You’re my kind of beautiful.”

WIth that, he presses his lips to yours for a slow but intense kiss. You can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him all the way up against you. He grunts when his hardening cock comes into contact with your soft belly.

After a few minutes of intense kisses that take your breath away, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours. “Will you let me show you how beautiful I think you are?”

You don’t even need to think about it. “Yes, please.”

He smiles and leans in for one more quick kiss. “Take me to the bedroom, pretty girl.”

You quickly grab his hand and lead him down the hall towards your bedroom, making a quick stop in the kitchen to throw the Chinese food in the fridge.

Once in your room Andy spins you around and presses your back up against his front. He leans forward and starts placing soft kisses against your neck. His left hand rests at your waist while his right hand moves up under your shirt towards your breasts. “Is this okay, pretty girl?” His voice is so low and husky. Your panties didn’t even stand a chance.

You nod. “Yes, please. Touch me, Andy.”

He groans a little and reaches up to cup your right breast in his hand. You hear him let out a growl as he continues to fondle your breast. While his left hand makes its way into your shorts, brushing his finger over your clit. You jolt forward at the sensation, whimpering out in the process.

“You like that, pretty girl? Like my fingers on your little cunt?”

You grab a hold of his wrist and writhe against him as he lowers his fingers towards your entrance. He gathers your slick up before moving his fingers back towards your clit and starts slowly circling it.

“Fuck, Andy. Feels so good.”

“Yeah? You want my fingers inside you, baby?”

You quickly nod. “Please. Need to feel you.”

He lowers his hand back down to your entrance and slowly slides his middle finger against your walls. You arch your back and moan out his name as he starts pumping it slowly.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight. When’s the last time you’ve been touched, pretty girl?”

“Too long. Feels so good. I need more. Please.”

His index finger quickly joins the middle one. He starts pumping them in and out of you quicker, curling them just right so they rub up against your g spot. “Oh, fuck!” You can’t help but yell out at the feeling. It’s been so long since someone’s taken the time to pleasure you, let alone find your g spot. You could feel the coil tightening already. You were embarrassingly close and he hadn’t even really started yet.

“You gonna cum for me already, pretty girl? Do it. Make a mess on my fingers.”

He moves his thumb and starts circling your clit. Your legs start shaking. He presses his thumb down just a little harder and you’re gone. You cum with a shout of Andy’s name into the otherwise empty room.

He continues pumping his fingers in and out but removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you too much. “Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

You lower your head in embarrassment. He spins you around and places his finger under your chin so he can raise your head so you’re looking at him. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. I want to see everything.” He takes his left hand and raises it to his mouth, sucking your essence off of his fingers. He moans into his hand. “You taste so fucking sweet. Knew you would.”

He grabs your face to pull you in for a sweet kiss as he slowly pushes you towards the bed. The back of your knees touch your mattress before he pulls away. He smiles down at you as he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up and off, tossing it somewhere in the room. His gaze then falls to your breasts. He licks his lips hungrily. Before he can get too caught up, he hooks his thumbs into your shorts and pulls them and your panties down and off your legs, helping you step out of them.

He stands back up and pulls you in for another kiss, your hands fall to his chest. You start to unbutton his shirt, revealing his chest to you a little at a time. You pull away to get the last few buttons and push his shirt over his shoulders and are surprised to see his chest and abdomen sprinkled with various tattoos. You never would’ve guessed. You can’t help but let your hand trace over a quote on his collarbone or onto the eagle covering his pec.

“I never would have pegged you for a tattoo guy. These are amazing.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I only have them where they can be covered up by clothes.” He grabs your wrists to stop your tracing. “You can trace all of them some other time, pretty girl. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”

You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine at his words. His dirty talk was going to be the death of you.

He moves his hands towards his belt buckle and starts undoing it. You couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble to his hands. You place your hands on top of his and look at his face. “Hey, if you don’t want to do this, that’s ok.”

He looks into your eyes and gives you a shy smile. “No, I want to. God, do I want to. It’s just, I haven’t been with anyone since Laurie and I guess I’m a little nervous.”

You couldn’t help the pull you felt at your heart at his words. He was nervous. Thank god. So were you. This beautiful man wanted to sleep with you, of course you were nervous. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous too. You’re kind of intimidating.”

He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows. “Intimidating? Why is that?”

You remove your hands from his and gesture up and down his body. “Just look at you. You’re breathtaking, Andy. And I’m just me.” Your gaze falls down to your feet, unable to look at him.

He puts his finger under your chin and raises your head so that you’re forced to look at him. “Speak for yourself, pretty girl. You’re the breathtaking one.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

His gaze on you hardens just a little. He grabs your hand and places it over his pants against his erection. “Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me? Nobody but you can make me this hard, pretty girl. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal since I moved in, watching you coming in and out of your apartment in your tight skirts and almost see-through blouses. Making me go fuckin’ crazy.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything or make a move then?” Of course your self doubt was starting to creep in. Maybe this was him just wanting to get his dick wet. You needed to know.

He grabs your hands and brings your knuckles to his mouth, giving them a soft kiss. “Honestly? I thought there was no way in hell an old man like me would have a shot with a sweet thing like you.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your mouth. “Please. You’re only 43.”

He pulls you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. “Yeah, well. Probably too old for you. But after what you said to me, about how you’re used to not being wanted? I stopped caring how old I was. I needed to show you just exactly how much you’re wanted. So, can I still show you, pretty girl?”

You quickly nod your head and help him finish removing his pants, leaving him in just his black briefs. The fabric doing nothing to hide the outline of his hard cock. Jesus. He looked big. Bigger than anything you’ve taken. You couldn’t wait.

You quickly pulled his briefs over his hips and down his legs. His cock sprang free and smacked against his inked abdomen, making him hiss. You grab him at the base and slowly start pumping him, looking at his face for his reaction. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed as he moans out your name at the feeling. His hands are gripping your hips.

You smear his precum that’s gathered at the tip and use that to help jerk him off a little faster. You tighten your grip as you pick up your pace, loving the sounds you're pulling from him. You start to go on your knees when he suddenly pulls you back up. You look at him in confusion. “If I let you continue, this will be over before it even starts. Gonna make me blow my load like an inexperienced teenager.”

You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself but once again furrow your brows as Andy walks to the other side of the bed. He starts looking around in your nightstand. “Do you have any condoms?”

You shake your head. “I did but they expired. If you’re okay with it, I’m on birth control. And I got tested after my last partner and I’m clean.”

He pushes the drawer to the nightstand back in and climbs onto the bed and lays on his back, hand lazily stroking his cock. “I’m more than okay with that. I just had a full work up done. I’m healthy as well.”

You barely acknowledge what he said, unable to remove your eyes from his hand that’s wrapped around his cock. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth and let out a little whimper. Andy chuckles at you. “Well, are you going to just stare at it, pretty girl? Or are you going to hop on my lap and get comfy?”

That gets your attention. You meet his gaze. “You want me on top?”

He nods. “Wanna be able to see all of you, baby girl.” He removes his hand from his cock and pats his thigh. “Come on, pretty girl. Ride me.”

Well that sight just caused a new wave of arousal to pool at your core. You had only been on top once before and it was only for a short time.

You place your knees gently on the bed and crawl the short way to him. You swing your left leg over him so that you're sitting right above where he wants you. You thread your hands through his hair and lean down for a heated kiss. You lick his bottom lip, wanting in. He doesn’t even hesitate to open his mouth to let you in.

He places his left hand on your hip while the other grabs his cock. He pushes your body down so that you’re hovering over it. “Please. Fuck me, pretty girl.”

You keep your lips attached to his as you slowly sink down on him. You get about halfway before you stop and pull away to look at him, trying to slow down your breathing. He brings his right hand up to cup your cheek. “You ok? Do you wanna stop?” The quick shake of your head makes him chuckle. “No, god no. I just need a minute. You’re fucking huge Andy.”

He can’t help the cocky smirk that appears. “Yeah, I know. Just take all the time you need.” He rubs his hand up and down your back to help calm you down. It only takes you a few more seconds before you continue to impale yourself on his impressive dick.

You let out a breath of relief when your hips settle flush against his. He grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for another kiss. You slowly start rocking your hips against him. He feels fucking incredible. Hitting all the right spots inside of you.

You pull away from the kiss and raise up a little and plant your hands on your headboard for some leverage. The rock of your hips speed up significantly. You move all the way up until his tip is barely inside before you slam yourself back down against him. You’re pulling the most beautiful sounds from his lips. It makes you move that much faster and harder against him.

Andy moves his hands to your breasts and gives them a good squeeze. Then he starts pinching your nipples, eliciting a moan from you. “That’s it, baby girl. Doing so good. You look so gorgeous fuckin’ yourself on my cock. Goddamn. Riding me so well.”

The praise he’s giving you just spurs you on. You raise up even more and place your hands on his chest and pick up your pace just a little more. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly. You’re going to cum and hard.

Andy keeps his left hand on your breast and keeps pinching your nipple. He moves his right hand down until his thumb is pressing against your clit, giving you the friction you needed. “Can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. Cum for me. Make a mess.”

He presses his thumb just a little harder and that’s all it takes. You free fall over the edge of bliss with a scream of Andy’s name, your hips faltering from their rhythm.

You slow down your pace as you come down from your high, collapsing against Andy’s chest. He cradles you in his arms and rubs his hands up and down your back. “Still with me, sweet girl?”

You weakly nod your head and take just a second to catch your breath. It takes you a moment to realize he didn’t finish. You raise your head off his chest to look at him. “Why didn’t you cum?”

He smiles and pulls you in for a sweet kiss. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry. Just wanted to watch you fall apart on top of me. And let me just say, it’s one of the prettiest sights I’ve ever seen. You look gorgeous when you cum, Y/N. Almost made me lose it. Think you can take some more?”

You nod your head eagerly, already wanting to cum around his cock again. “Then why don’t you be a good girl and turn around and get on your hands and knees for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly pull off of him and turn around to get on your hands and knees. He takes a second to admire the view of your once again dripping pussy before he gets up on his knees behind you. He grabs a hold of your ass and gives it a hard squeeze. “Such a nice ass. I bet it’ll jiggle real nice while I’m fuckin’ you.”

He grabs a hold of the base of his cock and moves it towards your entrance. Before he starts pushing in, he gives your right cheek a hard smack. You drop down onto your elbows and moan into the sheets below you. Fuck. You didn’t know you liked that. He places his right hand on your hip and squeezes.

“Hmm. We’ll have to revisit that later.” And that’s the last thing he says before he slams home. You arch your back and fist the sheets as he sets a hard and fast pace.

And boy was he right. Your ass does jiggle nicely with every snap of his hips against it. He threads his left hand through your hair and gives it a tug. It makes you clench around him. “Fuck, baby girl. Keep squeezing me like that and I’m not going to last long.”

You move your head to the side and peer back at him. You clench around him again and it earns you another groan and smack to your ass. “Want you to cum for me, Andy. Please. Fill me up.”

He stills for just a second and wraps his left arm around your chest and lifts you up until your back is flush against his chest. This time he keeps his thrusts nice and slow. He places a kiss to the side of your neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill that pussy up, huh? To claim you as mine?”

You let a whimper escape your lips and you grip onto his arm that’s holding you against him as he starts picking up the pace of his thrusts. You clench around him again. “I am yours, Andy.”

He quickly moves his right hand down and starts circling your clit. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me cum. Cum with me, please.”

You start pushing back and meeting his thrusts, desperate to get him to his release.

It only takes a few more snaps of his hips and circles against your clit before you're both falling over the edge while moaning out the other's name.

He continues pumping his hips until he’s completely spent and gently moves to lay the both of you onto your sides, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms.

He slowly pulls out of you and turns you around so that you’re facing him. He tucks your now loose hair behind your ear. “Hi, there.”

You chuckle and move up against him and press your face into the crook of his neck. “Hello.” You place a gentle kiss to his pulse point and relax as he wraps his arms around you.

There’s only a few minutes of peaceful silence when:

“So, was that good for you?”

You pull away and look up at him with an incredulous look on your face and smack his shoulder. You both start laughing.

“Of course it was good for me. Did you enjoy yourself, Andrew?”

He pulls you in for another sweet kiss. “Oh, yeah. But you know. Just to be sure. We might need to do it again.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. It only makes you laugh once more.

“You are such a dork. How about we get a shower and then heat up the food you so rudely interrupted me from eating before?”

His jaw drops in mock hurt. “You weren’t complaining when I was making you come around my cock, pretty girl.”

You sit up and stretch your arms over your head. You swing your legs over the side and stand up, wobbling just a little. You hear a chuckle behind you and playfully send a glare his way as you make your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the light and can’t help but look at your reflection in the mirror.

Your hair is a hot mess, having fallen out of it’s ponytail. Your lips were swollen and red from all the kissing. Your nipples looked slightly red from all pinching they had been subjected to. Your skin flushed from the orgasms. And there was what looked like a bruise forming on your hip in the shape of his hand.

And yet. You’ve never felt more beautiful.

You see Andy walking up behind you in the mirror. He smiles at you.

You turn around and return it before throwing your arms around his neck and raising yourself up on your toes to pull him in for a kiss. He gladly wraps his arms around you and reciprocates.

You pull away with a smile still attached to your face. “Not that I mind, pretty girl. But, what was that for?”

You shrug. “Just thank you. For making me feel beautiful.”

He smiles down at you and pulls you in for another quick kiss. You can feel him hardening once again against your hip. “Why don’t we skip the shower for now? I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

And with that he pulls you back into the bedroom where he spends the rest of the night showing you that you’re his kind of beautiful.

Permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @IIIoIs 

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Gorgeous

Summary: You’d spent the last year and a half pretending to hate Ransom Drysdale. One Christmas trip could break that facade.

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Black!Reader (though it’s pretty inclusive. It’s just what I had in my head when I wrote it)

Warnings: And there was only one bed, enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, swearing, secret crush, daddy kink

Words: 7K

(A/N: Yes. I pretty much wrote a Hallmark movie. Yes it is also based on Gorgeous by Taylor Swift because I’d also hate Ransom Drysdale for making me fall in love with his stupidly handsome face. No I will not be taking questions.)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @navybrat817​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @hqneyyincc​ @iam-laiya​ @zaddychris​ @emjayewrites​

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Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t hate Ransom. Sure, his smug smile made you want to punch him in the face sometimes. But you kind of liked the vein that popped out on the side of his head when you did something to irritate him. Or the way he rolled his eyes at you when you did something to annoy him. And you annoyed him a lot. It was like you couldn’t help yourself.

To be honest you kind of like those things too much. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. Imagine everyone finding out that you had some little primary school like crush on this asshole. Down to the point where you’d push him into sand to prove that you didn’t like him in the slightest.

Since your best friend was marrying his best friend, you were spending way too much time with him. You thought you’d done a good job at convincing Monica, your best friend, that you absolutely couldn’t stand him. She seemed to buy it since every eye roll was appropriately placed anytime you thought you might laugh at one of his rude jokes.

So, when your best friend asked you to accompany her and her fiancé to visit his family, you were positive. It might be nice seeing how these super rich people did the holidays. You’d met them a few times and they’d been super nice. Nothing like how Ransom or your own boyfriend’s family came off as stuck up as hell. Also, you were kind of dying to see the decor.

Until that day came. “I’m sorry!” Ava said for the millionth time since she’d told you the news when she’d FaceTimed you. That not only was Ransom coming, you’d have to ride with him in his Beemer because she’d packed more than she’d expected and there’d be no more room in Simon’s car.

You groaned softly, wrinkling up your nose. Your cats rubbing themselves against you because they knew you were leaving and loved to get all needy when you did that. You were already having a hard morning so this was kind of the last thing that you needed. “Maybe I shouldn’t go,” you suggested, even though you were supposed to be leaving in about five minutes.

She pouted. “But I need you there so I won’t be bored.”

“You know David,” your own boyfriend who was not going with you because he had to work and also because you weren’t sure he’d be your boyfriend by the time you came home, “hates Ransom.” It still made for a good excuse, though.

“What he won’t know, won’t kill him?” She shrugged. “Look it won’t even be that bad! It’s just the car ride.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, for four hours.”

“Just do this for me,” she whined. “Please. I’d do it for you.”

“Fine, but next time my boss has one of those boring dinners at his house, I’m making you go with me.”

She gasped. “Deal!”

There was a honk outside and it was safe to say who it was. You rolled your eyes. “You’re so lucky I love you because I’m already annoyed.” You peeked outside the window to see him aggressively honking.

Fucking asshole.

Once you’d hung up with Ava, you grabbed your bags so you could hurry out of the house. Luckily David was already at work so you didn’t have to explain to him why you were getting in the car with him. Ransom seemed to like getting under his skin, which you’d noticed is what he did to most people. Including you, but it seemed to be for a different reason than most people had.

“Hey,” you greeted him, as you struggled to carry your stuff to the trunk. Even though you were trying to keep this facade up, you didn’t want to be rude.

“Can you hurry? We’re on a strict timeline, Buttercup.”

You hated when he called you that. “First, don’t call me that. Second, maybe I’d finish sooner if you’d help.”

There was this smirk on his lips as he finally opened up his car door so he could take one of the bags out of your hands and then the others. “Did you pack your entire closet?” He asked as he tried to make it all fit in the trunk.

“I have a lot of needs,” you retorted.

“That’s probably why you need that sugar daddy, huh,” he said. This is why David didn’t like him. Okay yeah maybe you’re twenty-six with a forty-seven-year-old boyfriend. Sure, he brought you nice things, but what was wrong with that.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you made a point to emphasize. You weren’t going to tell Ransom Drysdale that you were with your boyfriend because he was your daddy dom. That’d be fucking stupid.

“Look, sugar daddy boyfriend whatever,” he said, dismissing you. “I just think you should pack lighter.”

“Whatever. Aren’t we on a tight schedule or something?” You rolled your eyes before going over to the passenger seat.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He stopped you to open the door himself. “I don’t need you to scratch my shit. You have to handle with care.”

You tried not to laugh which made you bite your bottom lip instead making you taste the mint chapstick you’d just put on. “You’re such a control freak,” you said, having to brush passed him so you could sit.

He didn’t say anything as he closed it gently.

The ride had been pretty boring so far. You yawned a few times. Wiggled in your seat trying to get comfortable. He surprisingly pulled over to get you coffee and even got you your blanket so you could curl up at some point.

If you weren’t trying to hate him, you may have swooned. He also said it’s because he didn’t feel like hearing you complain so maybe less swooning anyway. You reached for the radio and he smacked your hand away. “Ow!” You gasped.

“I’m just fucking with you.” He laughed, glancing over as you glared at him.

“Dick,” you mumbled under your breath as you reached forward again to change the station.

“What was that?” He asked.

“I said you’re a dick,” you repeated, sitting down as a song you liked started playing.

He groaned. “I hate this song.”

“Too bad,” you snickered.

“Need I remind you that this is my car, Buttercup?”

You narrowed your eyes at him because he called you that damn nickname. “Whatever. At least it wasn’t that Dad stuff you listen to.”

“Should you really be the one making fun of Dads?” He laughed.

“Hey! David doesn’t even want kids.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You don’t?” He asked looking genuinely surprised at that.

“I mean... maybe. I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Do you?”

“Well, I hate kids, but maybe for the right women. Who knows?” He once again took a quick glance at you, with this small dorky smile on his face.

That was surprising. You felt yourself starting to get to where your heart was swelling in your chest. “Why are we talking about this, you weirdo.”

He chuckled as you cross your arms in front of your chest as you looked out the window.

For the rest of the car ride only the music filled the silence. You wanted to say something. Thought about at least trying. Every time you started to open your mouth no sound came out.

You’d look at him while he focused on the road. Just because you couldn’t like him didn’t mean you couldn’t look at him, right? Though it was bothering you that there was a hole in his cashmere sweater.

“I’ll open your door,” he said getting out. You waited for him to open your side, but you heard the trunk pop open. You turned around watching him take out your four bags along with his. How the fuck was he so strong.

He opened up your car door finally. “Do you want me to take some?” You asked him with a frown as he closed the door with his elbow.

“It’s okay,” he replied already walking off. You scurried behind him trying to catch up.

Ava and Simon were right behind you. Ave got out and went to hug you. “See I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” she said. “Wait why is Random holding all your stuff?”

You shrugged. “He insisted.”

“Weird,” she replied.

Simon’s family was pretty nice, but they were so busy doting on the happy couple you were kind of ignored. It was actually kind of nice because when you met David’s family, they pretty much scrutinized everything you did. His mother was honestly the bane of your existence. Like, lady, if your son hadn’t had a kid by now how was that your fault.

That was another thing that made you treat Ransom the way you did. You’d met Linda a few times now and she already hated you. You could only imagine how she was towards his girlfriends. You’d only seen the tip of the iceberg of the insanity of the Thrombeys, though Harlan had been nice every time you’d met him.

“Okay, so, it turns out that one of Simon’s cousins decided to come at last minute and uh,” Ava took a deep breath, “you two have to share a room okay, bye!” She tried to grab Simon’s hand, but you managed to catch her first.

“What,” you said a little too loudly so you lower your voice, “the hell, Ava.”

“You’re shitting me,” Ransom groaned.

“It won’t be so bad just think of it as a sleepover. Maybe he can paint your nails and you two can do face masks together,” she started rambling off.

You weren’t as amused. “Or maybe me and you could share.”

“Hell no! I’ve slept in a bed with you. You’re a cuddler.” She frowned. “Besides I wanna sleep with my boo.”

“You’re the worst best friend ever,” you told her. “Fine, but he’s sleeping on the floor.”

“Like hell I am,” Ransom said.

“I have a boyfriend!” You reminded them. “I can’t sleep in a bed with another guy. Especially Ransom.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’ve been over this, Buttercup. You don’t have a boyfriend; you have a sugar daddy.”

You huffed. “Alright that’s it I’m calling an Uber.”

“And paying a hundred bucks to get home?” Ava rolled her eyes. “Come on just tough it out.”

“I hope you know that I hate you now,” you told her.

“Good. We’ll work it out in couple’s therapy.”

—————

The first night was awful. It felt like you couldn’t sleep. While Ransom seemed to sleep like a baby on the other side of the wall of pillows, you’d built between the two of you.

Even when you’d tried to move away from him, he’d just hold you in place. At some point you just had to accept your fate. At least you were cozy. So, you just kind of let it happen because who knows if this could again. When you actually woke up, he was already gone. You were neatly tucked under the comforter.

As you were finishing up your face routine and making yourself look presentable, Ransom was coming back in. You’d never seen him with sweats on before because he was usually such a preppy asshole, but he looked good. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you mumbled.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? You didn’t do something did you?”

“Me? Never?” He smirked before walking passed you and into the bathroom.

You walked through the house, taking in the way everything was beautifully decorated for the holiday. Honestly this place was house porn. “Good morning!” Simon’s mom, Trish, greeted you as you walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” you replied with a grin.

“Did you sleep okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was perfect,” you answered.

“Breakfast will be ready soon so why don’t you go wake up Simon and Ava.”

You nodded. “Yeah of course.” God they were too nice. Maybe you need to be around rich people more often.

Oh wait, no. David’s family came from money and they were awful. Also see Ransom.

Simon had come to answer the door, freshly showered. Ava was just coming out of the bathroom. “Morning,” he said.

“Morning. Your mom said breakfast is going to be ready.”

He nodded. “Okay. Babe, you ready?”

“You go ahead,” she told him. “Y/N, c’mere.”

You and Simon exchanged looks and he shrugged. “Guess I’ll get Ransom.”

Ava waited until he was completely out of the room before motioning for you to close the door. “So,” this shit eating grin appeared on her face, “how was it?”

“How was what?”

“Sleeping with Ransom.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “How was it?”

You shrugged. “We put a pillow wall up.” You really didn’t want to mention the cuddling.

“What? That’s it?” She groaned. “I always thought he’d be a bed hog.”

“I stayed on my side, he stayed on his.”

“That’s boring. I at least thought you’d have something to talk shit about.” She sighed. As far as you knew her and Ransom got along. She just found it super entertaining how you bitched about him.

The two of you went to sit in the dining room, waiting for everyone else. Trish sat down not to long after bringing the two of you mimosas. “Oh my gosh thank you!” Ava said getting up to hug her mother-in-law.

“Of course, Sweetheart.” She grinned. “So, Y/N, how long have you and Ransom been together?” She winked, bringing her champagne flute to her mouth. “I always said that Ransom just needs to find a sweet girl to settle down with. Maybe melt down that cold exterior he puts up. You know he really is a sweet boy.”

It was a good thing you hadn’t even been able to take a sip because you probably would have choked on it. “Her and Ransom aren’t together,” Ava answered before you could.

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I just thought because you were fine sharing a room.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay.”

Ransom took a seat beside you while Simon sat on the other side of Ava. Trish looked between the two of you because this table was huge and Ransom could have sat anywhere else. He could have sat on the other side of Simon if he’d wanted to.

Breakfast went by pretty uneventfully, though the pancakes the housekeeper made were kind of to die for. “So, what are you kids planning for today?” Simon’s dad, Warren, asked as plates started being cleared away.

“Well, Ava’s never been ice skating,” Simon said.

“That’ll be fun,” Trish said. To be honest you were kind of nervous about ice skating. You’d done it before, but ate shit hard. “Is this your first time, too?” She asked you.

“No,” you replied. “I’m not very good at it, though.”

“I’m sure Ransom can help you,” she said with a grin.

Ransom groaned softly beside you. “Yeah of course.”

  As soon as you got on the ice you could feel yourself going down. Ransom grabbed onto you to hold you up. “Don’t eat shit on me already,” he said with a smirk on his face.

“If I go down, I’m taking you with me,” you snap back at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”

It was a good thing you’d bought these leggings that were fluffy on the inside and this jacket you were wearing was cozy because it was freezing out here. Ransom had to

At some point you kind of started to think that you had the hang of it. Like maybe you could actually do it. He started to slowly let go of you, but the minute you started to feel unsteady he’d grab your hand. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said sighing softy. He stood for a minute holding your hand so he could skate with you to the middle of the rink. “Hey can we talk about something. Really quick?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“Hey, so,” he looked down at you with this almost nervous look on his face. “There’s been something I wanted to say, but I wasn’t really sure how to before.”

You nodded. “Yeah, what’s up.”

“Um,” he sighed. “Well, okay, so I-“ well he didn’t get to finish as this asshole barreled into you. “Y/N!”

You hit the ice pretty hard almost bouncing up as you came back down. “What the hell!”

Ransom immediately helped you up. “Watch where you’re fucking going!” He yelled back after the guy who’d already started skating away without even saying sorry. “Are you okay?

“My leg like hurts really bad,” you felt yourself tear up because you’re a little baby.

He sighed. “Shit, okay,” he said. “Are you okay to stand?”

“Oh my gosh!” Ava came over to the two of you. “Are you okay? I told Simon to go tell security. That guys been such an asshole this whole time.”

“Yeah thanks,” you said.

“Here why don’t we got some hot chocolate,” Ransom said.

It felt so nice being back in your boots. Ransom had you sit before going to get the drinks. You couldn’t help yourself as you rubbed over the spot on your leg that had been hurting super bad. Wincing at the tenderness.

“How’s your leg?” Ransom asked, sitting beside you with the steaming beverages in hand.

You brought your cup up to your mouth loving the warmth against your cold nose. “It’s fine,” you answered.

He reached down to touch the spot making you jump. He laughed. “Wow usually I have to get a girl naked before they start reacting like that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to play off as annoyed, but it didn’t work since you couldn’t help yourself as a smile spread on your face. “Oh, shut up.” You blew at the steam before taking a sip. “So, what did you wanna talk to me about?”

“It’s.... it’s nothing,” he said picking at some lint on his coat, suddenly getting all quiet. He took a sip of his own drink.

Here’s where you made a mistake. Which is the mistake that got you into this in the first place. Because every time you looked into his eyes, seeing those long lashes framing those deep blue eyes made you feel like you might drown in them.

And you fucking looked into them. After that first time you told yourself to never do that again. That it’s what made you trick yourself into thinking that you liked him the first time. No. He was just so close.

You pretty much fought yourself on this for the rest of the day. Even during the little shopping trip that the two of you dragged the boys to when you’d been debating with yourself if you wanted to buy this gorgeous coat or this really dress. Not that you needed more of either.

“Here just get both,” Ransom grumbled, taking out his card.

“What!” You gasped. “No, I can’t ask you to do that!”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Just wear it for the Christmas party.”

“But I already have a dress,” you said.

“Look, I’m sure your sugar daddy buys you very nice things at Forever 21, but I insist.”

You rolled your eyes as he quickly handed the worker his card. “Hey!”

“Too late,” he replied with a shrug that smug smile on his face.

You looked down at the glass as your things were being wrapped up nice and neat. The gold necklace had a diamond moon pendent. It looked so delicate and would have gone so good with that dress.

“You like it?” He asked, noticing.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you said. “But this is already too much.”

“C‘mon, we have to get back for dinner,” Ava said as Ransom grabbed the shopping bags.

—————

At some point every night the pillows would end up on the floor and you’d end up nestled into the crook of his neck. He’d have his arms around you until you’d roll over onto your side where he’d wrap himself around you again. Then you’d wake up to him gone because he went on his runs at the ass crack of dawn. You noticed how you’d be snuggly tucked into bed each time.

A part of you wanted to feel bad. That you were away and cuddling with another man every night. It was hard to feel guilty when you weren’t sure if your boyfriend was taking advantage of you being gone not that he knew that you knew. He was probably in some club, too, doing you don’t even want to know what. You knew when you left that you may be going home to end things.

You were trying not to think about it. Hell, you hadn’t even told Ava. You wanted everyone to have a good holiday and not worry. Besides you wanted to have fun. Which is why the four of you were going to some club tonight.

The four of you had went to dinner at this really nice restaurant. There were a few times when you’d caught Ransom looking at you all weird. “What?” You wrinkled your nose.

He cleared his throat before going back to picking at the salmon on his plate. “Nothing.”

As the drinks finally started flowing, you started to get a little loose. Ransom was sitting beside you being all sulky as he sipped from the glass of whiskey on ice.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him. Okay to be honest maybe you were more than a little loose, but you were just trying to have some fun.

“Nothing.” He glanced over at you then back to his drink.

“Hey,” this girl sat on the other side of him. “My friend was wondering if you wanted to dance.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why couldn’t your friend ask me herself?”

“She’s a little shy, but she’s cute.”

Ransom glanced over at you. “Nah. I’m just sitting here with my friend.”

The girl pouted, but finally left. You snickered. “I’m just sitting here with my friend,” you mimicked. “What too cool to dance?”

“Because I don’t know. I didn’t feel like it.” He shrugged then took another sip of his drink. “Do you wanna dance maybe?” He finally looked over at you and you were almost hypnotized, but managed to keep your composure.

“With you?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Buttercup, with my grandpa.”

You laughed once again ignoring the nickname. Maybe it was kind of growing on you. It only took a year and a half. You stood up. “Fine, but you better not stomp on my feet.”

“I might on purpose.” He got up standing in front of you. For a minute you thought he might kiss you until he grabbed your hand to pull you onto the dance floor.

You didn’t want to admit this either, but you were having fun hanging out with Ransom. Ava and Simon were understandably in their own little bubble of love and you didn’t want to interrupt.

After the club Simon had the bright idea of going in the hot tub to warm up. Since you were all a little tipsy that sounded like a great idea.

You had to wear your long sweater out of the house since it was freezing. You in your own little space while Ransom seemed to scoot way to close to you. The four of you were just talking mostly. Enjoying the hot water after being in the freezing cold.

All of you were talking when Ava gave Simon a kiss, which got deeper to the point where they were showing you way more than you needed to see. “I think I speak for both of us in that we really do not want to witness the two of you procreating,” Ransom said.

Ava made a face at him while Simon laughed. He whispered in her ear where she pecked his lips again. The both of them started getting out right after. “We’ll see you two in the morning.” He grinned.

“Goodnight!” She said.

“Night,” you and Ransom said in unison.

You went to the side that your incredibly horny friends had been on which had been across from him. His eyes were closed with his head tilted back. You splashed water at him making him jump a little.

“Hey!” He splashed you back. You laughed as you did it a second time. “Alright, alright,” he said.

You did it again for good measure. “Can’t have someone seeing you have too much fun.”

He went back to his previous position this time putting his muscular arms on the ledge. You wouldn’t care to admit how long you stared at his biceps and shoulders. Then taking the quickest glance at his abs. Then that neck that you kind of wanted to put your mouth on. This is bullshit.

Why was he allowed to be this hot? It couldn’t be enough that he was an asshole. He had to be hot about it. Okay you looked at his pecs and tried to see if you could get a glance of what may have been in his swim trunk. Whatever.

“What are you doing?” He caught you, a smirk appearing on his annoyingly perfect face.

“It’s called minding my own business,” you replied. “You should try it.”

He laughed. “You’re such a brat.” You shrugged turning your head to look at nothing. “Is that what your sugar daddy sees in you?”

“He’s not my sugar daddy. I mean he buys me things like for my birthday, but... that’s not what our relationship is about. I don’t even know if we are in a relationship anymore.” You don’t know why you were spilling all of this to Ransom of all people.

Ransom frowned. “What happened?”

You looked down and sighed blowing out your cheeks after. “Well...” you sighed again. Your stomach was turning now. “You have to take it to your grave.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

You sighed, biting your lip weighing in your options. On one hand it wasn’t Ransom’s business. You really hadn’t told Ava this. You didn’t want her to worry.

“So, he’s not my sugar daddy,” you said, hoping he got the hint.

You could tell he did by the grin on his face and the way he raised his eyebrows. “You?” He explained. “No there’s no way and here I always thought you’d be boring in bed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up no you didn’t.”

“I took you for a dead fish kind of girl,” he teased. “It’s always the cute ones.”

Your eyes widened at what he said. Then so did his when he realized what he said. “Anyway, so yeah that’s how we started off as,” you decided to ignore what he’d just said.

“Alright so go on.”

“Yeah, so it turns out I’m not the only one,” you said. “He’s been going to these clubs and he doesn’t think that I know.”

His jaw dropped. “This is the plot twist I really wasn’t expecting. I gotta tell ya.”

You shook your head. “Shut up.” You splashed him again.

“Stop!” He laughed, doing it back to you.

As you kept splashing at him, he came over to you, grabbing your hands to keep you from doing it again. “Let go of me.” You laughed.

“No.” He wasn’t laughing anymore. Just looking at you. Fuck he was putting you under his spell. You were supposed to not looking into his eyes. How did you make this mistake so many times? “Y/N, I... don’t make things weird.”

“What?” You laughed.

“Yeah. Don’t make this weird,” he said again softly before brushing his lips against yours finally.

“And here I’d always heard that you were a ladies man, Ransom,” you teased. “That was kind of weak.”

“Yeah, well maybe you bring out the worst in me.” A dopey smile had spread across his face. It was okay because there was one on yours too.

“Oh whatever.” You rolled your eyes still smiling. He leaned over to kiss you again but you put your hand against his lips to stop him. “I’m getting kind of tired actually.”

You walked back to your room. All wrapped in your sweater because fuck it was freezing now. You also wouldn’t say this out loud, but his lips felt really nice. As you made it to the bedroom the two of you were sharing, he came on not too far after, grabbing your arm to pull you into a kiss. He’s so dramatic.

As his lips worked against yours, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He felt so good. You can’t remember the last time David kissed you like this. “Fuck it’s actually really cold,” Ransom said.

You laughed. “I know I’m freezing.”

“How about we take a shower,” he said. “Maybe we could save some water together?”

“Oh yeah. We would totally be helping the environment.”

He grabbed you hand to lead you the rest of the way. You pulled off your wet clothes. As soon as you felt time hot water on your skin, you moaned. “

Jesus Christ, why not shower in hell,” he hissed.

“I’m already there.” You threw your arms around his neck. He leaned down to kiss you again. Pawing at your ass. He was so close this time.

You tried to act like nothing had happened as you finished getting ready for bed. As you got all settled under the covers, you felt your body finally start to warm up. He slid in next to you. This was the first time that you didn’t even attempt to put the wall of pillows up.

He pulled you all close to him. “You little shit! Are you naked?” You gasped.

He laughed. “Yeah. I don’t even know why you bothered.”

“Who said I was going to do anything with you?”

“Well, what if I tell you that,” he said, grabbing a handful of your ass, “I actually maybe sort of have feelings for you.”

Ah fuck.

Well, obviously.

But, ah fuck.

Why were you supposed to hate him again?

Because he was a giant asshole. He was rude to the help. Rude to everyone. Even you. Yet you still liked his stupid smug smile. That annoying laugh. You liked how he’d been surprisingly good company for this whole trip. Liked how he was holding you right now. You were pretty sure he could get an ugly haircut and you’d still like him. How he looked at you even when he was irritated with you.

Waiting for you to say something back.

“I... I have feelings for you, too.” You bit your lip after like you were nervous about what he might say back.

“Yeah?” He said with another dopey smile covering his face.

You nodded right before he bridged the gap first. Pressing your lips to his. His mouth moving ever so softly against yours. Like he was afraid you’d run away if he moved to quickly.

You deepened it and he finally pushed you down on your back. Ransom grabbed the back of your leg so you’d wrap it around his waist. Fuck he was already growing against you. “I still can’t believe you got dressed,” he pulled away to whisper in your ear. “You should have known I was just going to take everything off.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ever think that’s part of the fun.”

He chuckled before kissing you again. “Oh yeah?” He pulled away so he could start pulling down your sleep shorts. “You wanted me to take your clothes off?” You nodded, looking into his eyes. He hissed. “Didn’t even put-on panties, dirty girl.”

You laughed. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, I really, really like it.” He reached down to rub his hand up and down your slit. “What a pretty little pussy.”

You gasped. “Fuck.” His hands felt so good on you. He’d barely even touched you and it felt so, so good. Finally, his finger grazed your clit. He traced along it in a circle. “Stop teasing me!” You whined.

“Be patient, Buttercup.” He smirked.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Shit,” he stopped, “I don’t have a condom.”

You shrugged. “I’m on birth control.”

He smirked. “Yeah, you want me to fuck you raw, Baby. Want me to cum in you?” He leaned back down to kiss your neck this time. His thumb was pressing into your clit now. Going on sweet, sweet circles. He stopped for a minute to pull off your top.

When you were fully naked and he finally put his mouth on your nipples, you needed him to just fuck you. “Please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He went back to kissing your neck. “Yeah? You want me to be your daddy? Want me to take care of you.”

“God, yes.”

He lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes as he started to push into you. You closed your eyes tightly. “No, no open your eyes. I want you to look at me while I fuck you,” he commanded.

You nodded doing as you were told as he made you stretch over the thick head of his cock. You were so fucking wet just from him touching you like that. Your skin felt like it was on fire. You cried out as he inched into you. Fuck he was bigger than you’d expected. He was making you feel so full.

“Ransom,” you whimpered, he started out with shallow thrusts not going all the way in.

“Fuck, you’re fucking tight,” he groaned. “Can you even take it?”

You nodded. “I can take it, Daddy.”

He steadied his hips before finally shoving himself all the way inside of you. You gasped as he started fucking into you going so deep. Little droplets of tears formed in the corners of your eyes.

He was fucking you so good, your brain went blank. All you wanted was him. Wanted him to never stop fucking you. “Oh my god,” you whined.

“Yeah. Feels good?”

You nodded as you tried to take it. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Daddy making you feel good?” He panted. “Daddy’s gonna always make your pussy feel good, Baby. I’m gonna take care of you. Buy you whatever you want. Give you every fucking thing your boyfriend wouldn’t.”

Your pussy was gripping his dick like a vice. How were you so close already. “Please?”

“Is that what you want?” He asked in that condescending voice, you’d always hated, but fuck he was going to make you cum because of it. “Want me to buy you nice things. Be your boyfriend. Give you a fucking family.”

If he wasn’t balls deep inside of you, you would have probably reacted differently to him confessing that he wanted something with you. More than just this, but fuck hearing it like this only made you that more far gone. “Yes!” You moaned a little too loudly.

He clamped his hand over your mouth to shush you. “Shhh, Baby. You don’t want everyone to hear you getting dicked down do you? Want everyone to hear me fucking you?”

You shook your head, but stopped as you tilted your head back because you couldn’t stop it. Your eyes got all glazed over as your orgasm hit. 

“That’s it, cum for me.” He breathed. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum in your pussy.”

“Yes,” you whimpered. You could feel him so deep in your stomach. You can’t remember the last time you got fucked like this. No one else had ever been able to do this to you. 

As he finally couldn’t hold out anymore, cumming deep inside of you he still moved his hips. Making sure you got all of him.

He laid on top of you for a minute, not pulling you as you both came down from your orgasms. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. How the hell were you going to explain this to everyone. 

He rolled beside you before pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder. Still trying to catch your breath. “Fuck.” He laughed. 

You chuckled. “I know.”

“Why did we wait so long to do that again?” He asked.

“Because I hated you.” You didn’t mean to let out a bigger laugh because your lower half was way too sore for that. 

He rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. No, you didn’t.”

“I wanted to.”

“Brat.” He chuckled. “I just... I meant everything I said.”

“What?”

“That I wanna be with you...” he replied. “That I wanna make an honest woman outta you.” You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain that damn facade. He was making it hard because this smile spread across your face. “I’ll even let you live with me when you pack your shit out of that old man’s house.”

“Moving so quickly? Ransom, I’m shocked at you.”

“Look, I’ve put up with your shit for a year a half already,” he explained, “I already know that I want you.”

“You fucking sap!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Why don’t you suck my dick about it?” He rolled his eyes.

You shrugged. “Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

----------

You didn’t fall asleep until the sun was already coming up. Every time you tried before that; Ransom would start kissing your neck. You were exhausted, but satisfied in a way you hadn’t been in a long time.

You woke up to rustling on the bed. You tried to feel for him because although you were still cozy you wanted his warmth, but he wasn’t there. “Ransom?” You yawned, peeking your eyes open to him fixing the comforter. 

Oh.

“Hey, Baby,” he said with a smile on his face. He leaned over to kiss your forehead. “I gotta go, okay. I have some errands I have to run.”

You nodded, before wrapping your arms around him. He held you to him tightly kissing your forehead more. “Do you have to?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I told Simon I’d help him with this surprise for Ava

“Okay. I love you,” you replied sleepily before dozing off again. He smiled down at you before laying you back down, kissing your forehead before leaving. 

You woke up again to Ava jumping up and down on your bed. “Get up!” She cheered. 

“What are you twelve?” You grumbled. Then your eyes cracked open when you fucking realized you’d told Ransom that you loved him. “Oh no.”

“What? Wait, are you naked?” She raised both of her eyebrows as she got settled beside you in bed. “Did you and Ransom...”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling like you might puke. You fucking told Ransom Drysdale that you loved him. “What? No. I just got really hot last night.”

“Where’s your pillow wall?” She asked with a smirk.

“We were too drunk last night to remember?” 

“Bitch, you slept with Ransom Drysdale!” She gasped. “What about David?”

“Um... David and I are... I was already going to end things with him.

This annoyingly shit eating grin spread across her face. “You dirty slut. Okay, well, I don’t think Simon would mind if you stayed with us until you got back on your feet.”

“Actually, I already found a place. I just... I didn’t want to ruin your fun, ya know.”

She sighed. “Y/N, I’m your best friend. Your problems are my problems. I wouldn’t have cared if you told me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. 

“So...” another smile spread across her face, “how was it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking.” You laid back down, turning on your side and ignored her as she continued to ask questions.

You got your nails done with Ava, Trish, and Simon’s sister. Still thinking about what you’d said to Ransom. Nerves had started to settle in that you’d done something wrong. Raking your brain trying to remember if he’d even said anything back. You couldn’t remember.

It was Christmas Eve now and there was supposed to be this super fancy party today that the family apparently threw every year. Of course, you were going to wear the dress Ransom had bought you. There was no question. It fit in more. Besides okay maybe you wanted to look pretty for him whatever.

Neither him or Simon had come back by the time everyone started getting ready. You did your makeup in Ava’s room before going back to yours to get dressed. The was a knock on the door as you’d just finished.

“Hey,” Ransom leaned down to kiss your cheek lightly to not mess up your makeup. Setting down a little gift bag on the bed. “You look... you look beautiful.”

You were going to have to get used to him being nice to you. “Thank you.” 

“Sorry, it took so long. You know Simon. Has to go above and beyond.” He chuckled. 

You waited for him to get ready, checking your phone. David had been texting you throughout the trip. Not that you ever responded. You thought when you’d get to the end of this trip, you’d be dreading the drive home. Instead, you were hopeful of what was to come. 

"So, I kind of got you something,” he said before the two of you could leave the room.

You frowned. “I didn’t get you anything back.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think either of us were expecting this,” he replied. “I just wanted you to know I was serious about everything.”

“Okay.”

He clenched his jaw as he grabbed the bag he’d placed, taking out a jewelry box which he handed you. You looked up at him with those big eyes. “I saw you looking at it at that store so...”

“You’re such a sap,” you sniffled.

He smiled. “I just... when you told me I love you this morning, I didn’t say it back. I wanted to say it when I gave you this so... I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and he pulled you to him, hugging you tightly. You really didn’t want to mess up your makeup so you forced yourself not to tear up. Except lipstick be damned because you were not, not going to kiss him.

It was taking you everything to not hold his hand as the two of you walked into where the party was starting to pick up a little. He looked so cute in his red sweater. Simon and Ava were being doted on by his grandparents. 

“So, Ava kind of figured it out,” you said as he handed you a glass of champagne. 

“How?” He asked.

“You didn’t lock the door and I was still naked under the covered.”

He snickered. “Should have given her an eye full.”

You shook your head. “I’ll give you an eye full.”

“You already did, Buttercup.” He shrugged.

“Why do you call me that?” You rolled your eyes.

His face started to get all red. You’d never thought in all your days you’d see Ransom blush. Between the two confessing your feelings for one another, of you having sex, you accidently telling him you love him, and him telling you that he wanted to be with you, making him blush made you feel like you’d won whatever game the two of you had been playing.

He sighed. “Well, okay, so when me and my cousin Meg were younger, she was obsessed with the Powerpuff Girls. I didn’t want to admit that I kind of liked it. Your bad attitude reminds me of Buttercup. She was my favorite.” He rolled his eyes looking away from you like he was embarrassed.

“You’re shitting me.” This smile spread across your face.

“Shut up.” He wrinkled up his nose.

“Never would have guessed that under all that wool and assholeness was a sweetheart waiting to burst out of the seams,” you teased him.

“You’re so lucky I think you’re pretty or else I think I might drop kick you.” He sighed.

----------

Christmas Day passed by nicely and easily. Mostly with everyone relaxing. You spent most of it tucked into Ransom’s side drinking hot chocolate watching Christmas movies with everyone because at this point the two of you are just a cliche. Which was fine because you liked it. 

He’d whisper I love you in your ear. Or pull you under the mistletoe because he’s corny. Ava and Simon teased you while Trish swore that she called it, which she kind of did.

When it was time go home you were a little sad. You liked being in this little bubble with him. Now you’d have to go home and deal with having to officially break up with David and having to talk Ransom out of taunting him. Of course, Ava and Simon offered up their place until you got on your feet, but him being him pretty much demanded that you live with him.

Normally you would kick yourself for moving so quickly and you don’t know why, but you saw something in him. Of course, you weren’t going to be able to move all of your stuff out today, but there were two very important things that you needed. David wasn’t even there when you got home. He was probably still at his parents.

“Hope you like cats because I’m not leaving them,” you’d told him as you packed them into their carriers. 

He groaned, throwing his head back. “Fine, but you’re giving me a blowjob as soon as we get home.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you said before placing a wet kiss on his cheek just to annoy him.  

“Hey, you wanna have sex in his bed before we go?” He asked with a smirk.

“You’re an awful person, you know that?” You put your hands on his chest. “Of course I do.”

“God, I love you.” He grinned before pressing his lips to yours. 

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 1

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. 

Chapter 2

Read on FF.net or AO3.

Helloooo, beautiful people. I’m so excited about this story! This is now the official first part of the series, so it’s a prequel to the three oneshots I’ve already posted. If you haven’t read them, no worries, you can read this just fine. If you want to, just know they all have an established relationship and will reference the past, so you may possibly get spoiled. 

I plan for this to have five or so chapters, so buckle up, and as always, happy reading!

You’ve been expecting more.

Maybe that’s the wrong perspective to have. It’s still the military, and it’s still your first day and sure, that’s exciting and all, but you’ve heard stories. People always describe their first day of training as absolutely terrifying, but life-changing. They say that the first day is the day all the baby-faced cadets realize they’re in over their heads. It’s an introduction to the rest of their lives. At least, that’s the case for the people who stay. If one can’t handle a verbal beating, how can they stand any chance against the titans? The first day changes everything.

This, however, isn’t life-changing. It’s not terrifying. It’s rather...dull.

To be fair, the man in front doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it either.

You’ve heard of him, of course you have. Even back within Sina, people talk. A newcomer, a gift from the walls, humanity’s savior. Recently joined the Survey Corp and yet already a lieutenant, a definite shoe-in for the next available section commander position. Apparently his origins are a bit of a mystery, but he’s either the long lost son of a rich merchant or he’s come from outside the walls themselves because it’s just impossible that any common person can possess the skills he’s rumored to have. You’re not sure you believe all of it - apparently he’s so fast that the titans can’t even see him coming? yeah, sure - and yet there’s just something about him that gives off a truly well-earned confident aura. That’s been the most exciting part so far, the chance to see him up close, to see that he’s actually real.

Still, since he began talking, Lieutenant Levi hasn’t once raised his voice. He hasn’t screamed at them all for being the weakest pieces of shit he’s ever seen. He hasn’t even told them about how they’re going to train to become snacks for the titans. It’s disappointing. You’ve been ready to stand your ground, to show you’re made of some tough stuff. That can’t happen when your trainer won’t even bother to strike fear into your heart. Where other people may be relieved, you are mourning this loss of the traditional military experience.

At the very least, he’s not the actual trainer. He started his speech with a complaint that their actual instructor was sick for the day so now he had the absolute pleasure to welcome dozens of new fucking brats to their new home and occupation. His words drip with venom and boredom - clearly, he didn’t join to do any of this. It’s beneath him. All in all, Lieutenant Levi seems rather...arrogant. Maybe it’s well-deserved. But you don’t have to like it.

As he walks up to people at random who shout out their bare identities, the lieutenant snaps out comments that seem like they’re meant to bully rather than to frighten.

“Your posture is shit.”

“Oh wow, I bet the titans will be real scared of your noodle arms.”

“And here I thought these villages would send their best and brightest. Instead they sent you.”

But you’re not one to let things get to you so easily. You have your fist balled to your chest proudly, ready to serve humanity. You’ve fought to get where you are, and now you’re really, actually standing here, with your new comrades besides you, and you couldn’t be more proud. A bright smile settles on your face. You will make the best out of this, no matter your humanity-saving trainer’s dour mood. 

Unfortunately, said humanity-saving trainer takes notice of your smile, and with his gaze locked on his new target, he walks up to you, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“What’s your deal?”

You straighten your back, snap to attention, and look directly ahead as you know is appropriate. “Cadet (F/N) (L/N), sir, from Stohess District!”

His expression doesn’t throw you off, despite it looking like he’s never been so irritated in his life. You know you haven’t done anything wrong (at least not yet), so him looking that pissed off must be an internal issue, nothing to do with you. You’re not any different than any of the other cadets that have introduced themselves.

“Cadet (F/N) (L/N),” he says as though he’s testing out a brand new curse word, with just a hint of mockery in his voice. “I didn’t ask for your name or where you were from. I asked what your deal was.”

Well what in the holy hells is that supposed to mean?

Is what you want to say, but instead you simply furrow your brows and ask curly. “Sir?”

“What the fuck are you so happy about?” he clarifies, annoyance displayed clearly on his face.

Well damn, no need to be so edgy. You aren’t necessarily required to be as serious as everyone else here, and smiling isn’t a crime last time you checked. But this is obviously Lieutenant Levi’s thing, to be snarky and mean, and the sooner you answer, the sooner he’ll move on and find a new victim. “Just happy to be here, sir.”

Your smile stays right where it is.

“Oh, is that it?” He stares at you, deadpan. “You like the thought of being eaten? Does the idea just make your day? Do you fantasize about it at night? Let it lull you to sleep?”

Your smile grows a little strained.

Passion aggression is nothing new. You grew up in Stohess, you’re used to your fair share of cattiness. The lieutenant must take lessons from the tea-sipping high class ladies you’d basically grown up with, because he reminds you of them vividly. Ironic, considering you thought the military would be an escape to a life that was real and included less passive bullshit. It’s that frustration at the similarity that makes your polite mask crack.

The response slips through your lips before you can stop yourself. “No, sir, but last night I did happen to dream of a trainer that was tough enough to handle one of his subordinates smiling.”

You can be catty too. 

The grounds become more silent than they already were. It’s as though everyone is suddenly holding their breath at this new confrontation, just waiting to see what the newly dubbed hope of humanity will do if someone matches his sass. The loud silence is what finally makes you just a smidge nervous - surely, they won’t kick you out on your very first day just because of a smart comment, right?

Impatient and a bit anxious, you finally allow yourself to look directly in his eyes, and you’re suddenly stricken by how grey they are. You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone with grey eyes. They’re damn gorgeous. And there’s a hint of...something in them, and to your surprise it’s not rage. He looks calculatingly gleeful, as though he’s just been waiting for someone to say something back to him. He appears cruel and delighted all at once, and the contrast of it along with the striking silver hue is more personality than you’ve ever seen in someone’s eyes before.

It’s a breathtaking sight. You move in just a millionth of a centimeter to get a closer look -

And then he moves, lightning fast, reeling back and swinging his leg around to sweep your legs from under you. With a gasp, you hit the ground hard, head ringing and vision blurring for a few seconds. Your hair, which was loose around your shoulders, flies across your face, some of it entering your mouth. From above you, grey eyes are triumphant, looking down on you as though to ask whether or not that’s tough enough for you. You’d love to answer, but your head is throbbing and you can only let out a pathetic, confused noise that causes titters to spread throughout the room.

What the hell just happened?

You move to get up, but he’s quicker, slamming his foot down on your leg and holding you right where you are. For someone with such a short stature, he looks pretty damn tall from down here. Maybe this is the sight that the titans barely get to see before he slices through them. 

Everyone is watching, even if they’re not turning their hands. This is their entertainment today, and the fool has just made its move. The fool being you, of course. They’re all hungry to see how this will play out.

Your cheeks glow bright with embarrassment, but you are not going to waver. Not on the first day. This is what you wanted, right? You wanted someone who’d be a hardass, who’d strike fear in you and make this a day you’d never forget. Well, Lieutenant Levi is your wish come true.

“Please remove your foot, sir,” you muster as politely as you can, looking up at him icily.

He digs the heel of his shoe into your thigh to make a point, and maybe to see if you’ll cry out in pain. But you look him in his strange grey eyes and you only blink, a small smile returning to your face. Will he kick someone who’s already down?

The moment seems to last forever, and you briefly entertain the fantasy that time is freezing for him as much as it is for you.

And then it’s all broken - he takes his foot off and walks right by you, and the only words you’re spared after being humiliated are, “Tie your hair up, you look ridiculous.”

Thus goes your first meeting with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

____________________

Dinner that night is filled with chatter. It seems people have found their loyal companions pretty fast, and cliques are forming faster than a speeding bullet. 

Luckily, you don’t need to worry about making friends. Besides the fact that you’re charming and perfect (according to everyone else and definitely not just you), you joined the military with your best friend from childhood. Millie Shackel is every bit the Stohess lady you are, the Rose to your Maria, the jelly to your butter. It’s amazing how much two girls can bond over a shared hate for the lack of activity happening within their stuffy town.

You gnaw at the bread on your plate, squeezing your eyes shut in pain after a particularly hard bite makes the back of your head throb. Not for the first time, you place your hand gingerly on the back of your skull, confirming that there’s no blood pouring out.

“Shouldn’t have mouthed off,” Millie quips from across the table, looking at you amusedly.

“Thanks,” you mutter bitterly, abandoning the bread for now until the soreness goes away. “Didn’t think one stupid comment was going to make him go berserk on me.”

She laughs, confirming you sound every bit as stupid as you feel. “I don’t think that classifies as berserk. That was a superior putting you in your place.”

“Suck-up,” you accuse, eyes narrowed. She only rolls her eyes, and you bring the cup of water to your lips and begin simply guzzling it down when someone claps you on the back, making you choke.

You turn to glare, still coughing up water, at two guys behind you. The one who nearly killed you is tall, with hair the color of bananas, and he’s grinning with no regrets, the shameful bastard. The other one behind him looks apologetic, red-haired with pretty green eyes. He whacks his friend on the arm. “You idiot, you nearly sent her to the infirmary!”

“Oh, come on.” The tall guy slides next to you without permission, slinging an arm around you as though you’re the closest of chums. Back in Stohess, you’d have called for his execution or some shit. “Surely the girl who talked back to Lieutenant Levi can handle some water going down the wrong way.”

Millie does not look pleased at the intruder, and looks even more grouchy when his friend sits down next to her, albeit keeping a much more respectful distance. When you finally stop coughing violently, you shove the guy’s arm away.

“A-asshole, what the hell’s your problem?” 

“There’s no problem, kid.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “I just wanted to see the balls on you. Guess it was overexaggerated.”

“Obviously,” you snap, “I just talked back, I didn’t hop over the wall and kill a titan.”

“Regardless, good job with the way you handled it. The others are talking about you.”

Millie gives you a stern look. “Hear that? Now we’re the troublemakers.”

You shrug apologetically, and decide to take another crack at eating your bread. This time, it goes down easier, with only a light sting to remind you of the lieutenant’s cruelty. 

“I’m Stephen,” the redhead says with a shy smile, extending his hand. You shake it, then turn your gaze questioningly to the one next to you. He grins cockily, waiting for you to ask. You don’t.

“This is Ricky.” Stephen spoils his fun, sounding exasperated. 

“I assume you two are close.” Millie wrinkles her nose distastefully. You bite back a laugh - there’s that Stohess bitchiness that you love about her.

“We met this morning,” Ricky responds, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

The two of you warm up to the boys soon enough. Ricky is rather friendly when he’s not trying to steal your food thinking you won’t notice, and Stephen is downright sweet, his emerald eyes brightening when you ask him where he’s from. He goes off on a ramble about his village which is somewhere smack dab in the middle of the land within Wall Rose. Apparently their local stew is the best there is. You privately disagree; nothing quite tastes like the stew they make in the Orvud District, least of all this bland loaf of bread in your hand.

Ricky, on the other hand, is from Shiganshina, which is apparently an outer city of Wall Maria (so the two boys really had just met that morning). 

“So, I’m guessing it’s the MP for you two?” Ricky says. Millie looks offended.

“That’s not right for you to assume!” She deflates a little. “But yes, it is.”

“Hey.” You shoot her a scowl. “It’s the MP for you. I don’t have any intention of hurrying back to precious Sina.”

Millie gazes at you with her we’ll talk about this later look like she has every time you’ve brought up that you have no intention of returning to fucking Stohess where nothing ever happens. Before she can say anything, Ricky ruffles your hair fondly. 

“Should’ve known you were made of tougher shit than that. So what, you like playing hero?”

You shrug. “No, I just have a sob story. Dead old Dad was a Scout, and then he was titan chowder.”

Stephen looks disturbed at how bluntly you say it, and even Ricky is a bit thrown off. You chuckle at their expressions, waving a hand nonchalantly. “It’s fine, it happened a while ago. I barely remember him. But you know, what better way to connect with your dead dad than to align yourself with the people who let him die, right?”

Ricky’s mouth hangs open as Millie snorts. “You can laugh, she’s making a joke. Get used to her sense of humor, it’s always this bad.”

“I resent that.”

“So you don’t care about getting into the top ten?” Stephen asks carefully - scoping out the competition, you realize.

“Couldn’t give less of a shit,” you answer coolly, “but Millie obviously does.”

“I’ll get into the top ten, it’s not about that.” Millie says confidently, shaking her head as though it’s ridiculous to even imagine that she wouldn’t. After all, you two were raised to be perfect. “The real goal is to be first.”

Ignoring the madly ambitious look in her eyes, you focus on Stephen. “So what is it for you? The Scouts?”

He winces bashfully. “I’m...undecided.”

You laugh out loud, a bit meanly. “What, undecided like you’re going to some top university in Mitras? This is the Training Corp, Stephen, you’re not gonna get to try out a bit of everything. Just choose whether or not you wanna be shipped off to a pointless death, and then you’ve made your decision.”

Stephen frowns, shaking his head. “If it was that simple, then what would be the point of choosing?”

Who in the holy hells asked for his philosophical wisdom, that’s what you want to know. Rolling your eyes, you turn to Ricky, who is chewing on your bread, abandoned after your taste buds just wouldn’t adjust without the butter you were used to. With his mouth full, he answers easily. “Scouts.”

You nod. At least he’s sure.

____________________

“That wasn’t right,” Millie says later, right as you’re about to lie down on a scratchy-looking bed.

“What?”

“What you said to him. He can take his time deciding if he wants to. And it’s just rich, coming from you.”

Your eye twitches in irritation. “You’re just pissed because I don’t wanna take on the most boring job in the world.”

“Grow up,” Millie hisses, venom laced in her voice. “Not everything’s about your entertainment.”

Turning around, you see your best friend with arms crossed, giving you a disapproving look that reminds you of your mother. How odd. What’s that old saying about people becoming what they most hate?

“You’re gonna lecture me now too? Hit me with some philosophy, maybe?” You raise your brow, daring her to say more. “Or do you wanna knock me over again? Maybe I’ll get a concussion this time.”

Millie scoffs, sitting down on the bed she’s claimed. “You know what, it was nice. Seeing someone put you in your place like that.” Her lips quirk under your hard gaze. “Maybe he’ll teach you a thing or two about taking things seriously. Give you some actual goals to achieve.”

The only thing Lieutenant Levi will teach you is to never get distracted by something like how beautiful someone’s eyes look ever again. Even now, you can still picture him, the way he stood in front of you, startled you, threw you off. The way his eyes were filled with more duality than you’d ever expected to see in a person.

Pretending like you didn’t just fantasize about his pretty grey irises, you roll your eyes and flop down on the bed next to her’s. “He’s not gonna teach me jack shit. He’s not even our trainer.”

Millie hums, whether it’s to you or to herself you don’t know, and when you look at her again she’s closed her eyes, clearly wanting to end what was a very long day. It’s not long before you join her.

“(F/N).”

“Yeah?”

“I miss home.”

You don’t, but you keep it to yourself.

The last thing you think of before you fall asleep is how cold the lieutenant had looked when he humiliated you, and your cheeks burn angrily.

____________________

Two weeks pass by in a blur. Once training starts, there’s not much time to think about something like goals, because everyone’s goal is simply living until dinner each night. Avoid getting yelled at, attend classes, study hard, and for the love of all things holy don’t fall on your face when you’re balancing in the practice ODM gear. 

It’s a rush, and you actually find yourself enjoying it. The food still tastes stale and the bed is still too hard to be comfortable, but there’s an easy routine that’s so much more than sit still and look pretty. While you’ve never been a fan of routine, this is different. There’s a purpose to this, even if everyone has different things they’re working towards. Whether they’re trying their best to show what they’re made of and get into the top ten like Millie, or pushing themselves because they get starry-eyed at the thought of saving humanity like Rashad, or simply staying out of trouble to avoid getting meal privileges taken away like Clara, everyone is working towards something, and it’s thrilling to be in the midst of it, to be a part of something meaningful.

You and Ricky are fast friends - he’s surprisingly not too insufferable and he shares your enthusiasm for not taking things so seriously. He also seems like he’s looking for a partner in crime, someone to partake in the oh-so delightful task of slacking off with. Millie is throwing herself into perfecting everything, and Stephen, while not as crazy as she is, is more nervous about losing respectability in front of their trainers and comrades. So the two of you naturally gravitate towards each other, because jeez, at least a few people here need to remember that life still exists outside of all of the training and military drama. 

Today is the first time they’re letting you practice hand-to-hand combat, and while that’s obviously ridiculous since you’re training to fight titans (or just bully people, if you’re joining the MP, but Millie didn’t appreciate you voicing that out loud), it’s also a chance for you to show off a natural talent. 

You’re flexible. And fairly fast too.

Sure, you’re no fighter, but back home you were put into dancing lessons since you were a wee young thing, so you have a much higher tolerance than most of these chumps. You can take a few hard punches here and there, and you’re fluid with your movements, so you’re giving as good as you get. Even combat is a dance in a certain way, it has all the same elements at any rate. Everything comes down to the placement of the feet, and every other body is an accessory that has to be utilized perfectly to do any damage. 

Unfortunately, Ricky’s fought, like actually fought - fucking peasants from Maria and their street fights - and so as much as you put up a damn good fight, he eventually gets you in a hold from behind. You squirm in his grasp as he laughs, digging his fingers in your side. You try to protest, but it’s hard when he’s tickling you so hard.

“H-hey, hey!” Your giggling only gets two octaves louder when Ricky doesn’t let up. “Stop!” Ricky’s laugh mixes in with yours, until he’s lifting you off the ground. Your breathing becomes painful as you struggle against his grip, clawing at his hands. “Ricky! Let go!”

Finally, he decides to show mercy, dropping you. He regrets it pretty soon, though, because then you’re on him quickly, throwing a hard punch against his shoulder. He groans, letting out a pained, “What the hell, (F/N)?” but you’re not done. You grab the collar of his uniform, and tug it forward briefly to give yourself some momentum to shove him back as hard as you can.

Ricky stumbles on his feet, catching himself before he falls at the last second. There’s a determined expression in his eyes, not quite competitive but suddenly eager to show off.

“So, think your dainty dancing is gonna give you the advantage here?” he challenges, balling his fists in front of his chest. You do the same. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but that’s not how that works.”

“Beat me, then. Properly.” You smirk, planting your feet firmly. Let him throw the first punch, you decide. “I have to be on the ground for you to win.”

Ricky’s clever too, knowing you intend to use his size against him. He lowers his arms, extending them as though he’s going to let you take a free shot. Yeah, you’re not that stupid. You stay right where you are, raising an unimpressed brow. The two of you stare each other down, trying your best not to break into smiles. 

“Hit me.”

“Hard pass.”

“Because you know your punch will be too weak?”

“How’s your shoulder, Ricky? Should be feeling fine, since my punch was so weak.”

He barks out a laugh, rolling his shoulder back experimentally. “Like getting hit by a feather.”

Okay, trash talk isn’t part of the combat training that the trainer, Instructor Grumman, has assigned. But it’s still fun, and it’s about a thousand times more preferable than actually fighting. Fighting is painful and pointless. Trash talk is entertaining and doable. 

Still, you hunch your shoulders. If Ricky really won’t move, you’ll come at him with full force. Digging your heel into the ground, you give yourself a boost and run towards him with a burst of speed. His eyes widen, and his first instinct is to hold out his hands to keep you at bay. But with the close proximity and his lanky figure, it won’t be enough. You’ll have him on his back within seconds if you ram into him in one, two -

You don’t make it.

You don’t make it because you’re suddenly flung into the air. You let out a frantic shriek and bring your arms up to shield your face. The ground approaches with dizzying speed and you hit it with a sickening thud. Your hands are suddenly covered in scratches and you open your mouth to furiously ask Ricky what the fuck he was thinking and how did he even do that and did he have to throw you so high -

But when you look up, it’s cold grey eyes that meet you.

Fuck.

The glare that was supposed to be for Ricky is now aimed at him, unadulterated hate coursing through your veins. This is the first time you’ve seen him since that day. Just what in the actual fuck is his problem, and just what had you done to deserve being thrown over his shoulder and up into the sky like a fucking ragdoll? You hadn’t mouthed off this time. Hell, you didn’t even know he was there, so just what the fuck was he punishing you for?

“People who don’t take their training seriously usually end up looking up like this,” he hisses. His glare matches yours, which is ridiculous, because he’s the one who knocked you down. Why is he pissed off? “‘Course, they’re usually looking up at a titan, but we don’t have any of those on hand for me to demonstrate.”

Yeah, he’s far from a titan. Fucking shrimp.

“I was taking my training very seriously, sir,” you say with gritted teeth. “In fact, I would have defeated my opponent had you not stepped in and shot me up in the air.” Your hands would also have significantly fewer bruises. 

He snorts, actually snorts, like you’ve just told a hilarious joke. “A real opponent isn’t going to let you run that mouth of yours before they come at you. You’d be dead in two fucking seconds.”

People are looking now. Everyone remembers that first day, and they all look as though their favorite stage actors have come to town to perform a show. They’re all waiting to see just what the girl who talked back to Lieutenant Levi will do now. A circus trick, perhaps? They don’t know what you’re made of - no one is going to see you crack. And definitely not because of this insufferable man.

“You don’t know that, sir.” You say it with a poisonous smile, wanting him to know that it’s not meant to be respectful. “I might just make it. Maybe I’ll even make it longer than you.”

There are hushed gasps all around you, but the lieutenant pays them no mind. He looks amused, as if you’re just a stupid little girl, an arrogant brat who somehow thinks she’s somehow stronger than him. You’re not an idiot, you know that he’s an excellent soldier who will probably make captain soon, and you’re a lowly cadet who doesn’t even know the basics yet. But once you’re trained up, once you have experience, you think you could take him on, and you could possibly win.

Lieutenant Levi leans down, crouching on his legs before leaning in. He grabs your shoulder harshly, and leans in to whisper in your ear. “I’ll be waiting, (L/N).”

You almost feel respected until he adds, “Waiting to see the day that fucking smile gets wiped off your face.”

With that, he stands up and turns. Turns to walk away. Turns as though you’re not still on the ground. Turns as though your comrades aren’t snickering around you, convinced that he just put you in your place a second time. Turns as though he didn’t just single you out for no damn reason - who even fucking asked him to watch? Who asked him to interfere in your business? Why didn’t anyone else demand his attention? You weren’t the only one goofing off. Hell, there were some people who were actually just lazing around! Where was their punishment?

Furiously, you speak before your brain can catch up.

“Why don’t you fight me, Lieutenant?” you say loudly as you get to your feet.

He stops.

Ricky, who is safely standing a few feet away now, gives you a wide-eyed look, silently asking if you’re brain damaged. But you pay him no mind, your eyes focused on the back of Lieutenant Levi’s head, probably burning a hole in him with your gaze by now. Immediately, the crowd changes sides again, hushed oohs spreading around. It’s not enthusiastic, no one actually believes you’ll triumph, but they are enthusiastic that you have the balls to try.

He turns, giving you the driest expression you’ve ever seen, and you half expect to be dismissed. To be told that you’re too weak to even think about fighting him.

Instead, his stance changes, his fists are raised, and he’s accepted your challenge.

You know you can’t win. That’s not the point. The point is to hold out. For a whole minute, at least. Half a minute. Was twenty seconds too generous?

There’s a small part of you that regrets mouthing off this time.

Lieutenant Levi doesn’t have to waste any time staring you down. He has no need to debate in his head about who should throw the first punch, and nor does he grant you the courtesy of devising a strategy in your head first. In half a second, he’s approaching you with dizzying speed, fist reeled back, about to knock you over for the second time today.

But you’re sick and tired of these fast maneuvers. 

You duck down just as he closes the gap between you, and you go for his legs. He grunts in surprise as you make contact, clutching tightly. It may look pathetic. Your arms are wrapped around his thighs, which you basically just dived into. Your face is squished against his hip. Your feet have left the ground, as you’ve thrown your entire body at him. At this moment, you look absolutely ridiculous.

But it’s worth it.

The lieutenant loses his balance as his feet slip from under him. You can feel him falling down, down, down, with a gasp that is just fucking music to your ears. This is turning out better than you’ve ever hoped for. You’ve proved everyone wrong, even yourself. He’s going to hit the floor, and you’re going to win. You’ll win.

Or at least, you would have.

You’re both hurtling through the air for one glorious moment. Then, recovering from his shock in an instant, Lieutenant Levi spins the two of you in midair, and despite all your efforts and quick calculations, it’s your back that hits the floor again with a loud crack, air knocked clean out of your lungs. You gasp for breath. His knees are digging into your neck, you’re going to choke -

He takes no time to recover. He’s up and on his feet in a second, brushing the nonexistent dirt off his pants, and you’re left panting with your hand on your throat, trying to recover what little dignity you have left as laughter erupts around you. Dizziness and confusion overwhelms you, as does something else. Just a few minutes ago, you’d been looking at him hatefully. Well, you from five minutes ago had no idea what hate was. You could kill him right now, this arrogant, pompous, cruel jerk. 

How dare he look so unperturbed? Like this is just a normal weekday for him?

A hand yanks you up by your hair, nails digging in your scalp painfully. You’re brought to your knees with a heaving gasp. He tugs your head up until you’re looking at him properly, and he has the nerve to smirk. It’s slight - perhaps he knows a full blown smile would look creepy on him - but it’s there, mocking you.

When he speaks, it’s just a little louder than a murmur. “I thought I told you to tie your hair up.”

Then he releases you, and your buckle over in pain. The position literally has you bowing down to him. White hot anger seeps through you. Consumes you. When he starts walking away, his every step thunders in your head, echoing a million times. He had no right. 

No right at all.

It seems like Millie’s wish has come true. You have a goal now. A goal that Lieutenant Levi has so graciously given you.

You’ve decided. No matter what happens, you’re going to get revenge on Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. He’s going to fucking pay.

____________________

You’re pacing out in the field later that day, muttering under your breath, the events from earlier replaying in your head on loop. Millie’s decided to give up on getting you to come study with her, and she’s blatantly refused to participate in your little quest for revenge, citing it as “pointless and foolhardy.” Well, this whole thing is pointless and foolhardy. The Training Corp is just a way to produce more dead bodies every year. But Millie didn’t agree with your line of logic and has left you to brood on your own.

Realistically, what are your options? It’s not an easy task to take on. Humiliating a man who is now so respected and admired will be difficult when his ego soars sky high. Something heavy will be needed to bring it down. Now you have no intention of ruining him for life, nothing major or extremely dangerous. If you did have such an intent, it would’ve been rather simple, just a letter back home to your mother to spread the word of what humanity’s hero was really like. Not that she’s inclined to listen to your demands nowadays, but it’s a doable plan that would work one way or another. But you want to embarrass Lieutenant Levi the exact same way he embarrassed you. You want to knock him flat on his back, while everyone watches, and you want to stand triumphantly as he kneels down to you.

Someone listening to your thoughts right about now would think you were having a vivid sexual fantasy. You groan, slumping down against the bark of a tree. It’s going to be dark soon. You have a curfew that you’re inclined to obey. But you simply can’t go back without thinking of a plan. He deserves it. He deserves to be utterly humiliated. Punishing you is one thing. Beating you in a fight is only natural. 

But holding you up by your hair like you’re one of the fucking spoils of war only to have you kneel to him - that’s sick. He’s sick, and probably perverted. You wonder if he’s always been like that, or if the glory has gone to his head. And you wonder why he’s chosen you to play this game with. Because of a smile and some cheek? That’s no excuse. 

Maybe you’re just the prettiest one here, and he has a crush.

Even the cocky thought can’t distract you enough from your frustration. You can’t possibly beat him. There’s a reason he’s getting so much attention. It’s because he can fight like no other, and it’s all natural talent too. Frankly, you call bullshit, no one is just that good without any practice, but whatever, not the point right now. Who could possibly make you capable enough to beat the lieutenant in a fight? Who could possibly know all his weaknesses? 

Probably only him.

Your eyes widen.

____________________

The sun shines brightly the next day. You feel the warm breeze from the open windows kissing your cheek as you run through the base. Most people passing by pay you no mind, although a few give you questioning looks. But they don’t say anything, probably figuring you’re just a lost newbie who’s inevitably going to get yelled at when you show up late for class. But they’re mistaken, you’re not lost at all. You’re running with purpose. And well, you might be late for class, but it’ll be fine, you know Stephen takes detailed notes that he’s willing to share, and even if he feels like being mean, this is much more important.

Originally, the plan was to go all the way to his office, the path pieced together from directions you’d gotten from Instructor Grumman who believed you were going to apologize (for what?). Hopefully, he won’t actually double check if you went through with it, because you have no intention of apologizing for a single damn thing. Your aim is far more sinister than that. Today is the first step of a plan that will take you a long while, but it’ll pay off eventually. You’re going to achieve your goal. 

That is, if he agrees.

The universe is on your side, because you don’t even need to go all the way to his office. There he is, in the flesh, talking to a blonde man you recognize as Captain Erwin Smith and a woman who you haven’t seen before. Maybe if he hadn’t been so callous yesterday, you’d have waited until he was away from his comrades before approaching him. It’s too late to care about appearances now.

You step up to the three of them and salute, clearing your throat.

He looks at you, and his eyes harden when he sees a smile plastered on your face yet again. 

“Can we help you?” Captain Erwin says gently, but there’s just the slightest edge in his tone. Clearly one is not supposed to just approach this dream team. Your bad.

You open your mouth to answer him, but Lieutenant Levi beats you to it, looking bored as he does. “She’s lost, Erwin. Classes are on the other side of the base,” he says dismissively, waving a hand like he’s swatting away a fly.

“I am not lost. Sir.” Your spine is still straightened and your fist is still balled against your heart. You’re not sacrificing it just yet, but you’re certainly sacrificing your pride here. “I have a request for you. After you pointed out my obvious flaws yesterday, I realized that if I don’t get help, I’m going to fall seriously behind.”

Captain Erwin shoots him an exasperated look, already having figured that his best friend (or whatever they are to each other) must have done something to you. Meanwhile, the woman cackles, nudging the lieutenant’s shoulder. 

“She’s being proactive! You appreciate that, don’t you, Levi?”

He doesn’t answer. His attention is now exclusively on you - you nearly feel special. 

“So what do you need from me, Cadet?” You ignore the way your stomach flip-flops violently from the way he stares at you, the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a light smirk. Something in him clearly enjoys the idea of you needing him for something. Something else to lord over your head, something else for him to be cocky about. “You want me to find someone to give you private lessons?”

“Close,” you say, mustering the brightest and happiest fucking expression you can, “I’d like you to give me private lessons. I want you to train me.”

The lieutenant’s eyes flash upwards. 

Your hair is neatly tied up in a tight bun.

Y’all have no idea how weird it is to write “Lieutenant Levi.” I loathe it.

Also, this is my first time writing in second person. Lots of firsts here, folks.

Please review, your comments are my source of life.

[milenadaniels]

Before the Night Fades, 8.6k - POV Outsider on Buck/Eddie double date shenanigans (AO3)

“I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who."

---

Or, EddieAna and BuckTaylor double date and it ruins everyone's night.

The nearly-post-COVID return to normal rush is going exactly as well as management at the Tilted Cactus expected it would, which is to say it’s going as miserably as the waitstaff at the Tilted Cactus expected it would.

The owners lost a lot of money to lockdowns, diminished capacity and the general (extremely warranted) paranoia of co-mingling in public during an international plague for the sake of overpriced appetizers. And despite accurately predicting the business would boom once the doors re-opened, management didn’t feel the need to account for more staff to serve said business.

So despite owing $34k on her student loans (that’s after a generous gift from both her parents and her maternal grandmother), barely being able to afford rent in LA, and the utter lack of career prospects, Mere is taking a break in the backroom, next to the dirty mop bucket, mentally running through her finances before she officially gives her notice.

She can’t quit, she knows that.

Turns out leaving New Zealand for LA with nothing but a dream and the idea that if Taika could do it so could she was not the most future-proof plan she could have come up with. The starving artist thing was so 2010.

But Mere’s made up her mind. She’s not made for this abuse. This is bullshit. She’s going to pack up, go home, and you know, do...something else. She’ll figure it out.

Mere pulls herself up from her indelicate crouch on some empty crates and goes in search of a piece of paper — or a fucking napkin, who cares — on which to write up her official resignation.

“No, in section 3A,” she hears Tomas fake-whisper. He’s one of the few new hires to grace these hallowed halls and still thinks it’s disrespectful to talk shit about customers even in the backroom. Umida, a five year veteran of this distinguished profession, has been trying to disabuse him of this particular nonsense.

“Where the fuck is section 3A, Tommy? We have sections 1 to 9, we don’t have any letters.”

“The new sidewalk sections have letters, to distinguish them from inside.”

“You mean sections 10 and 11?”

“...Mr. Peters said they’re using letters.”

“Mr. Peters can swallow my entire ass. The sidewalk sections are literally right outside the door from 9, why would they not be called 10 and 11?”

“Or ‘Hell On Earth’ and ‘Kill Me Please’, as we call them colloquially,” Mere offers, startling Tomas as she pushes through the swinging door she’d been hiding behind. Patio dining is highly encouraged and an excellent way to dine if one has patios. The Tilted Cactus does not have patios. It has a temporary license to put tables on the dirty sidewalk outside their restaurant, where waitstaff get to weave around pedestrians, dogs, and carts like they’re completing an obstacle course.

“Yeah, those work,” Umida agrees, emphasizing her point with a dispirited index finger in Mere’s direction.

“Okay, whatever,” Tomas says with a pained eye roll. “Can you please just check it out and let me know?”

“What’s happening?” Mere asks. She’s leaving this popsicle stand (ideally, on fire as she walks away slowly into the night) but she’s also starved of both human attention and the inherent drama of the culinary world so she’ll be damned if she misses out on one final showdown.

Tomas takes a breath to steel himself. “I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who.”

“You don’t have gaydar where you come from?” Umida asks in perfect deadpan.

Tomas glares harder, crosses his arms and juts one hip out. “I come from San Francisco. We invented gaydar. I’m saying I’m pretty sure the guys are together, but I’m also pretty sure they’re each with the women they’re sitting next to. So figure that out.”

“Like a double thruple?” Mere asks, now actually becoming curious.

“Like a ‘I don’t know what y’all are smoking this far north but I don’t understand your weird relationship dynamics and I’m still on probation and I can’t lose this job because I can’t move back in with my brother because I will murder him and I can’t be an only child with aging parents in this economy so can you please just go out there and tell me what the fuck is happening so I can throw this ring at the right person and punch out sometime before I ‘accidentally’ fall on the meat clever downstairs?’ kind of situation.”

Umida and Mere share a glance.

“Okay, well, don’t despair, new guy,” Mere says with a pat on his arm. “Save the meat cleaving for the capitalist elite. We got you. Let the pros handle this.”

“What did the note say?” Umida asks. “One ‘e’ or two? We can at least eliminate half of our options.”

Tomas does not check the note to spot whether the note-taker had written ‘fiancé’ or ‘fiancée’. He stares them down and fips the note in his fingers so the text faces them.

“It says ‘finance’.”

“Ah.”

“We’re going to need a more hands-on investigation, then,” Mere announces.

—————————-

Mere goes first, only because Umida was on her way to swap a side dressing for her table when Tomas intercepted her.

Mere carries a jug of water and makes the rounds of the outdoor tables, trying to hold in her visible distaste for the pseudo-patio vibe the owners tried to make happen out here. There’s a bike stand and a taxi stand two feet from where people are trying to have a romantic dinner. Every now and again, the LA traffic gets rowdy and noisy, completely butchering the atmosphere. There’s a shitty speaker funneling in some Frank Sinatra but it really does nothing to help.

But after this mystery is solved, none of this will be her problem anymore.

Like Tomas said, there are two men and two women sitting like cardinal points around a round table. The women are on the north and east ends, the men on the south and west ones. Two of them are brunets, one a redhead, and one a blond. They’re all disgustingly gorgeous.

And that’s all she’s got.

“The ravioli sounds so good,” the brunette woman says, casting a look at the brunet man to her side.

“Yeah, it does,” he says.

“Mm,” the blond man disagrees. “It’s got feta.”

“What’s wrong with feta?” Asks the redheaded woman.

“Absolutely nothing is wrong with feta,” he responds with a superior smile directed at the man next to him who’s preemptively adopting the look of someone ready to hear some bullshit. “Unless you have an underdeveloped palate and are simply overwhelmed by such strong delicacies as a moderately salty cheese.”

“Okay, don’t talk to me about an underdeveloped palate, Pennsylvania,” the other man responds, posturing despite the softness of his eyes.

“Hey, I said nothing to besmirch the great state of Texas. Texas is a wonder of culinary delight. I’m saying you’re...a simple man.”

“Feta’s disgusting and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on,” the brunet says with smug finality, holding the other man’s eyes until they’re both smirking and looking back at their menus.

Well then.

Mere’s a little bummed as she fills the water at table 36. She’d been hoping the mystery would run longer than 2 whole minutes, but these guys are definitely together. So the mystery will only come down to who’s getting eng—

“Thankfully Chris inherited a more refined palate,” the blond man — Pennsylvania — chirps as the last word.

“He did,” the brunette woman chimes in with a playful smile. “He loves my cooking. You both loved that greek salad I made last week, didn’t you? That had feta in it.”

“It did!” the brunet man replies, slipping his hand overtop hers. “And I loved it. So clearly context is a factor.”

Mere almost spills the rest of the water all over the lady at table 38 as she takes in the man and woman mooning at each other. Though if it’s any consolation, the redheaded woman looks as unimpressed as Mere feels.

“Yeah, I have no idea,” Mere reports back to Tomas.

“The redheads are playing footsie under the table now. That’s one couple at least right?” Tomas asks. The two of them are parked behind the bar where they can see through the window outside but the exterior tint prevents anyone outside from seeing them. The bar is still used for pouring drinks but the stools are gone — can’t maintain 6 feet between them — so the staff pretty much have the run of this corner of the restaurant.

“He’s not a redhead,” Mere mutters, looking out the window to catch the action. “It’s like a dark blond. And I don’t know, I’m pretty sure the two brunets are together, but then blond guy’s foot is way into the other guy’s space.” For a moment she’s distracted by just how damn long his legs are. “That’s certainly...familiar.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida declares when she returns from dropping off plates at table 32.

“They’re lesbians?” Tomas parrots skeptically. “I did not get that vibe.”

“I could see lesbian for the redhead, I think,” Mere says. “Don’t know about the brunette.”

“Lesbians come in all flavours,” Umida informs them haughtily. It’s the start of Pride month and her hijab is held together by an “Ally” pin. “You can’t tell someone’s orientation just by looking at them.”

“But you’ve declared them lesbians,” Mere points out.

“Because lesbians are approaching their table and only lesbians know other lesbians.”

“That’s definitely not true,” Tomas reproaches.

“No, she’s right, lesbians coming up!” Mere watches as two more unfairly gorgeous women approach with two young boys in tow. Honestly, screw LA and their beauty standards. The parties look surprised to see each other, but they clearly know each other well. One of the boys stays with the women, but the other one breaks off to join the table.

“No, I mean you can know lesbians without being a lesbian.”

Umida and Mere ignore him.

“Okay, that’s one of their kids, right?” Umida asks. “Lesbians babysitting for date night?”

“He’s got Pennsylvania’s curls,” Mere agrees. "That's the blond guy, by the way, I think he’s from there. Brunet guy is Texas for the time being."

The boy reaches the table and is pulled into a strong hug by Texas, who then directs him to a hug with the brunette.

“Oh, unexpected.” Mere would have sworn he was a dead ringer for Pennsylvania. “But okay, that confirms the hand-holding I saw. We have a set of parents. And unless this is a super modern table, I don’t see the parents being here on dates with other people.”

“Mm, I don’t know.” Umida dithers. “That’s like an auntie hug, not a parent hug. Like if she is the mom, the kid is not happy with her.”

“Wait,” Tomas says.

The boy is wiggling out of Brunette’s grasp and rounding the table to Pennsylvania who’s waiting with a wide smile and open arms, and instead of letting go after, the boy finagles his way onto Pennsylvania’s lap to steal a breadstick. Pennsylvania reaches into the basket for another breadstick to pass to the little boy still waiting with his moms and Mere’s heart tugs a little.

Texas watches on from across the table with unrestrained fondness. His leg shifts to press against Pennsylvania’s who looks up with a smile.

“Boom, gay dads!” Tomas crows.

“And lesbians,” Umida adds.

“Redhead definitely has no part of this,” Mere notes. The woman is smiling but it’s polite and practised, not warm or welcoming. “I guess the brunets could be siblings maybe? Really close siblings?”

Finally, the babysitters make to leave so Pennsylvania kisses the boy’s temple and guides him back to his feet. Texas presses his own kiss to the boy’s curls as he passes, saying something they can’t make out from behind the glass. Brunette gets only a wave as he leaves.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida concludes smugly.

“Okay, good,” Tomas sighs with relief. “So we know who the couples are, now who’s gettin—”

“Um,” Mere interrupts, pointing at the table.

Redhead’s foot is making its way up Pennsylvania’s leg and he shoots her a grin.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tomas spits as he walks away.

“Did you even take their order yet?” Mere calls after him. He doesn’t answer.

———-

Mere gets pulled away because now that she’s not quitting in outrage until this table 34 drama is over, she figures she should actually get back to work. Happily, having not seen her for the last 20 minutes, Mikael figured she had left or died and had taken over her section. She agrees to split half the tips with him and lets herself be pulled back into the tide of madness.

“Got it figured yet, Tim-Tam?” she asks when she passes him near the bathrooms.

“The guys are sharing their orders,” he says despondently.

“That’s not that incriminating. I split my orders with people. I’m not about to pay full price to discover if I like something.”

“No,” Tomas glares before gesturing to the window with disgust. “They’re sharing their orders.”

Tomas stalks away to hopefully take an herbal break to calm down and Mere goes back to the window just in time to catch the insanity. Mere feels Umida come up behind her and tries to suppress her shiver when her “what in all that is holy” skates across her bare shoulder.

Pennsylvania has just finished piling some of his spaghetti on Texas’ plate, which is exceedingly normal. But now Pennsylvania is reaching for Texas' burger.

“He didn’t cut that,” Umida notes.

“No, he did not.”

They have pretty messy burgers at Tilted Cactus, ones that are hard to share because if you cut them down the middle they tend to lose structural integrity. Of course, this isn’t a big concern if you’re sharing already-bitten-into burgers. Which these absolute freaks are doing.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida declares again, the earlier smugness replaced with an air of disgust.

But when Umida walks away, Mere watches Brunette wipe something off Texas’ cheek and frowns. One throuple and redheaded side piece? Maybe?

————

“I’m struggling with lesbians as a theory,” Mere tells Umida the next chance she gets at the pickup counter. “I want to believe, but…”

“Yeah, I’m doubting now too. They’re almost exclusively talking to each other. But then I realized it was more getting-to-know-you conversation and this would be a hell of a weird first date.”

“Huh, so heteros all around?”

“Well, I also caught on that they’re spending all this time talking to each other because the guys are like in their own world. Finishing each others’ —”

“Sandwiches?”

“Exactly,” Umida grins, unexpectedly delighted by the reference. “So I don’t know. I really don’t envy Tommy.”

“Me either.”

“Hey Manish,” Umida yells out to the other side of the pickup window, “I’m picking up for Lenore but she’s got a two-seater, why do I have four dishes here?”

“Because Lenore can’t write for shit,” Mere says, picking up the order slip and squinting at the scrawl. “These are for table 24, not 29. It’s a four-seater.”

“Alright, well I guess you’re helping me, then,” Umida says with a wink.

Umida is fully capable of carrying four dishes on her own but she’s asking Mere to come with her so Mere’s already reaching for the plates, hoping the blush on her cheek can be written off as heat from the kitchen.

————-

During a slow stretch, Mere takes it upon herself to refill water and wine glasses in section 10.

From table 32 she can hear them talking about elementary school workloads.

“Oh, ah, I meant to let you know,” Pennsylvania says to Redhead, sitting up in his seat. “I can’t make it to the movies next Friday, can we move it to the next week? I should know my schedule by Wednesday.”

“Sure,” Redhead says with a hint of bite to her pleasant smile. “But I thought you had Friday off.”

“I do,” Pennsylvania says, his lips curving into a small, excited smile, “but Christopher won his class’ public speaking competition and they’re doing a kind of show of all the winners for the parents, and it’s on Friday.”

Mere moves around table 34 and heads for table 36 next, but catches the looks of discomfort on every face aside from Pennsylvania’s. He doesn’t realize he’s said something wrong, but the rest of them have.

“Isn’t that just during school hours?” Brunette woman asks.

Texas hesitates before saying, “yeah, but we’re taking him to Universal after to celebrate.”

Out of pity, Mere doubles back to table 34 and reaches for his water glass to fill. People tend to keep their drama buckled while the waitstaff is there. And sure enough, Redhead glances up and paints a tense smile on her face.

“Yeah, not a problem. That sounds exciting.”

There’s a bite to her words, and by the way his shoulders tense and his fingers curl more tightly around his fork, Texas seems to have picked up on it.

————-

By the end of the entrees, most of the staff have caught onto Tomas’ predicament and one by one everyone from the table-bussers to the cooks have gone out for a smokeless smoke break to try to be the one to divine what the hell is happening at table 34.

None are successful.

“This isn’t even like a romantic date,” Mani laments. “Like none of them are that dressed up and they’re talking about like natural disasters and shit. I don’t get a proposal vibe from like any of them.”

“Who even goes on a double date to propose? Who does that? It’s so tacky!” Gabby says from behind the bar where she’s helping herself to a quick nip before she heads home.

“Who still thinks the ring in the champagne bit is a good idea, is my question. It’s a choking hazard!” Mere says. “How romantic to start off your engagement with a trip to the ER.”

Tomas ignores them all. He looks about 10 minutes away from saying to hell with his probationary status and drinking the next hour away straight out of the vodka bottle at his elbow. “I know it’s Pride and I should be representing but I could really do with a little heteronormativity right now.”

—————-

Tomas is stalling.

Table 34 asked for dessert, of course, and when he vaguely floated the idea of champagne, Texas had readily agreed, so this is happening. The champagne flutes are lined up on a tray, the champagne in them is warming with every minute that passes, and he is no closer to figuring out what to do.

“What if I put all the glasses in the middle and they have to pick which one they want?”

“Okay but the person getting proposed to tonight likely doesn’t know?” Mikael says.

“What if you pretend you didn’t see the instructions?” Shania pitches. “As if we can ever write stuff down correctly anyway. Just say it said to bring out the champagne but nothing about the ring being in a flute! Just hand it back to the proposer and let them get it done.”

“You think we don’t know who the proposee is but we know who the proposer is?” Tomas bites. “If I knew that, Shania, I could have just called them away with a phone call or something and asked them who to give the flute to.”

“Geez,” Shania exclaims, hopping off the bar counter to walk away. “You try to help…”

“And then there were three,” Mario announces as he comes back from another completely unnecessary round of filling water glasses outside.

Tomas’ head snaps up from where he’d been staring into the countertops. “What?”

They all rush to the window and sure enough: Redhead is gone.

“I didn’t see her come in,” Mere says, almost breathlessly. If she’d come in to use the restroom, they would have seen her.

“No, she’s gone-gone,” Mario supplies. “Said she had to get back to work but I’m pretty sure she just wanted out. That’s the chick from the news, you know?”

“People still watch the news?” Mere wondered aloud.

Tomas tsks. “Redhead was the least probable suspect!”

“Well we can rule out Brunette and Pennsylvania as a couple, right?” Umida asks, waiting briefly for the gathered crowd to nod. “Okay, so we’re down to the brunets together, or Pennsylvania and Texas.”

“Or polyamorous,” Mikael sniffs. Mikael is trying polyamory. He doesn’t know there’s a bet going on how long he’ll last. It’s a fine relationship style to get into but one he and his jealousy and insecurity issues are deeply unsuited for.

“Apologies, Mikael, or polyamorous. So you have...yeah, 3 of 3 options left for that ring,” Umida grimaces.

“Wait!” So-Hee cries. She’s supposed to be hosting at the entrance but COVID-19 protocols mean people don’t show up earlier than 5 minutes before their reservation so the podium isn’t very backed up. “What does the ring look like? That could be a clue, right?”

They look to Tomas, whose face is blank.

“You didn’t look?” Mere accuses him, though to be fair it never occurred to her either.

So-Hee pounces on the deep purple velvet box without waiting for Tomas to answer.

“Please god,” Tomas mumbles, grabbing the box out of her hands and prying it open with almost reckless enthusiasm.

All six members of staff currently on duty at the window crowd around, many heads bumping together to catch a glimpse. The ring nestled in the box has a slim, dainty band with a solitaire diamond jutting out proudly, with filigree details on either side.

“Oh thank sweet baby Jesus, that is a woman’s ring!” Tomas nearly yells.

“It could be a man’s ring,” Umida protests weakly, almost sad to see the drama come to an end.

Mere’s a little put out too if she’s being honest. But even if they couldn’t tell from the design, the sizing is way too small to fit on either of table 34’s men’s fingers, as So-Hee demonstrates by plucking the ring up and sliding it onto her own tiny finger.

“Yeah, get it stuck on your sweaty fingers, So-Hee,” Tomas protests almost hysterically, feeling his win come into danger. He wrestles it back off her finger and shoves it back in the box before taking a deep cleansing breath.

“Okay, I’ve got a dessert course to deliver,” he says, the picture of calm professionalism as if he hasn’t spent the last hour losing his entire shit.

———-

They should disperse then, but like brothers in arms after battle, all of them feel the need to stand guard as Tomas prepares to deliver the goods.

Some of them, like So-Hee, stand because they’ve foolishly become emotionally invested in the upcoming nuptial bliss.

Some of them, like Umida, stand because they fell in love with their version of events and they feel the need to properly mourn for what might have been.

“They’re co-parenting that boy,” Umida grumbles. “We all saw that! They can’t deny that!”

And some of them, like Mere, stand because they really can’t be bothered to get back to work.

But stand together they do as Tomas plops the ring in one flute and carries the tray out.

“Excuse me,” comes a voice off to the side of their group.

So-Hee, ever the consummate people-pleaser, actually turns to take care of the customer. The rest of them stay fixed at the window. “Yes, sir, can I help you?”

“Maybe? I couldn’t help but notice that young man taking some champagne out.”

“Yes, would you like to order a bottle as well?” So-Hee pokes Mikael. “We’d be happy to bring some out to you.”

“Ah, no,” the man says. “Well, yes. But I’ve already ordered some. I called earlier, when I reserved my table.”

Mere stiffens, her sixth sense borne of years of customer service piquing. Beside her, Umida takes note as well.

“I asked that champagne be brought to the table with dessert, and I left a box...one that looks a lot like the one on your counter there. And I’m sure it’s just a coincidence but I couldn’t help but want to make sure it’s not my ring that just went out to that other table.”

Mere’s wide eyes spring to Umida’s.

“Oh my fuck,” Umida whispers.

Then they’re both racing for the door.

“Wrong table, wrong table, wrong table,” Mere mutters under her breath as she dodges a stroller and a dog walker trying to reach Tomas —

“Oh, Edmundo!” Brunette exclaims brightly.

Umida’s hand braces Mere like a soccer mom in a car.

It’s too late now.

There’s nothing they can do but watch this trainwreck happen.

Happily, Redhead vacated the seat nearest to them so they have an unobstructed view of Brunette’s eyes filling with tears, of Texas’ wide eyes, and of Pennsylvania’s face losing all colour.

From context, Texas is the Edmundo Brunette is so pleased with.

But Edmundo is shaking his head, his brow furrowed. “I...wha— ”

Pennsylvania comes back to himself first, though the smile he paints on his face is strained and frail. “Ah, con — congratulations.”

“Wha— Buck, no.”

Pennsylvania — Buck — stands up from the table like a colt learning to walk, his eyes darting across the table without landing anywhere. “I — ah — I should let you guys celebrate.”

“Buck, no, I—” Edmundo’s voice is firmer now, his hand darting out to reach for Buck, and Brunette starts to catch on that nobody’s getting down on one knee with a flowery speech.

“Edmundo?” she calls, her bright smile dimming.

Edmundo looks torn and trapped in equal measure, and Mere wonders for a heartbreaking moment if maybe he’s as confused about his relationships as the Tilted Cactus employees have been tonight.

With a sigh, and a reminder that she’s out of this place like Cinderella at midnight, Mere falls on the proverbial meat cleaver. Stepping around Umida’s still outstretched arm, Mere weaves herself in front of Tomas just in case there’s any physical fallout, and pitches her voice low so the neighbouring tables will have to strain to listen in.

“Excuse me, my name is Mere, I’m the assistant manager. I am so sorry to inform you there’s been a terrible mistake. We’ve delivered a ring to your table that was destined to another this evening. We apologize deeply for any confusion this has caused and we will of course be comping your meals.”

“It—Oh.” Brunette’s eyes land on the ring on her finger, and her remaining excitement implodes into embarrassment so quickly and resoundly that Mere’s surprised it doesn’t produce an audible sound. The fingers of her opposite hand grip the ring and pause for a moment before slipping it off. There’s no box to slip it into so Mere holds out her hand, the other tucked neatly behind her back.

“Thank you,” Mere says quietly. “Please forgive us for the mistake. We will be investigating what happened so it never happens again.”

“Of course,” Brunette says lightly, forcing some life back into her voice. “I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

Her eyes lift then and take in the scene across from her. Edmundo and Buck still standing, Edmundo’s hand wrapped round Buck’s wrist to keep him from leaving, and her eyes shutter once more.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up,” she says politely, rising from her seat and escaping into the restaurant.

Edmundo watches her go but says nothing, frozen still, holding onto the man beside him.

With all eyes more or less off them now, Mere gathers Tomas and Umida and hauls ass back into the restaurant.

————-

The ring is cleaned and inspected by Gareth, its actual owner, who is amiable enough to not escalate the situation further. His fiancée-to-be is none the wiser on any of these happenings — luckily their table, 29, is indoors — so his proposal is still on for the next course. But, just in case it doesn’t go the way Gareth hopes and he turns on them, Mere preemptively comps their meal too and congratulates him before he’s reseated.

On her way back to the kitchen, she grabs Lenore and uses the last hour of her completely fake authority to formally bar her from ever answering the phone again, or taking notes from the phone, or writing anything anywhere ever again. Lenore, having heard about the drama at table 34 and having seen the crying woman rush to the bathroom just now, accepts with little resistance.

And Mere, heart heavy with the weight of what they’ve done to this poor woman, mentally shakes her fist at her own curiosity and need for schadenfreude. If she’d bailed on this place an hour ago, she wouldn’t be leaving with this heartache by proxy.

As if beckoned by her thoughts, Brunette emerges from the bathroom just as Mere is crossing in front of it. She looks better, her tears packed away, and her cheeks only slightly reddened. Mere is about to offer her something — a glass of water? wine? a whole bottle? — when Edmundo steps into view. Mere doesn’t break stride until she’s behind the protection of the pay terminal privacy partition where she can see them but not be seen.

“Hey,” he says softly, his frame pretty loose and relaxed for a man who looked so troubled moments ago.

“Hey,” she returns with a forced smile.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know—”

Brunette cuts him off with a hand. “It’s not your fault. They made a mistake. It happens.”

Edmundo nods.

“But…” Brunette continues, fidgeting with the strap of her purse. “For a moment, it didn’t seem far-fetched that it...might be real, you know? I know we’ve been taking things slow, but we have been seeing each other for nearly a year now. And I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but it...it didn’t seem so far-fetched.”

Edmundo’s shoulders have grown tense, and it doesn’t escape Brunette’s notice. She smiles sadly.

“But then I looked up and you weren’t even looking at me. You were looking at Buck. You were so scared he would leave and that — that just doesn’t make sense, does it? I mean, even if the...the ring was a big misunderstanding, wouldn’t it have been better that he leave so we could talk about it privately? But you were scared, because he was upset… And if he was...I don’t know...upset that you hadn’t told him about this, you could have caught up later and discussed it, cleared it up.”

Edmundo says nothing, but he hangs his head and gnaws on his lower lip.

“But you were scared. Scared of him leaving in that moment. Scared...that he’d leave with the wrong idea? That he’d leave thinking you were — we were... ” Brunette sighs sharply. “I think I’ve been a fool.”

“You haven’t—” Edmundo tries to say.

“No, I have. It’s felt so many times like there’s been a third wheel in this relationship, and I genuinely didn’t realize until now that it was me. And maybe I’m naive but I’d like to think you didn’t realize it until today either. That you’re just as big a fool as I am. And maybe Buck is too.”

Edmundo opens his mouth twice to say something but nothing comes out. In the end, he settles on, “Ana, I’m sorry. I...didn’t realize. I don’t even know if I understand what I realize. But I...I know you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and you didn’t deserve this.”

Brunette — Ana — smiles again sadly, and if a touch bitterly, she’s entitled to it.

“Thank you,” she says softly, before fidgeting with her purse strap again. “I’m going to go. You’ll...say goodbye to Buck for me?” Edmundo nods.

“Goodbye, Edmundo.”

“Take care, Ana,” he responds.

Ana takes a few steps before stopping and turning. “Good luck. I think…” she shakes her head before repeating, “good luck,” and leaving out the side doors.

Mere unglues herself from the privacy wall and slinks sadly back to the bar where she finds Tomas and Umida already halfway through a glass of red each. There’s a third, untouched glass waiting for her.

“We’re horrible people,” Mere decides. “Brunette and Texas just broke up.”

“We didn’t do this,” Umida protests half-heartedly. “Technically, Tomas did.”

“Ugh, you ass,” Tomas sputters. “The note said table 34, you all saw it. It’s Lenore’s fault.”

“It is Lenore’s fault,” Mere agrees before downing half her glass like a shot. Out the window, she can see Pennsyl — Buck — slumped in his chair, staring at the tablecloth. There’s a fresh bottle of wine on the table, two empty glasses at his and Edmundo’s places. Mere raises a glass at Tomas for the gesture.

“If they don’t end up drinking it, I’m taking it home,” Tomas says, “I already wrote it off.”

That’s fair.

Unfortunately for him, when Edmundo gets back to the table, he immediately pours them both a very full glass.

Buck straightens out in his chair, looking concerned and looking around for Ana, who doesn’t materialize. Edmundo says something that has Buck relaxing but looking guilty. Then Edmundo shuffles closer and puts a hand back on Buck’s wrist.

“Okay, back to work,” Mere orders. “We’ve intruded on this drama way too much already.”

When she finds her way back to the bar some twenty minutes later for a totally appropriate reason, table 34 is empty.

————————

A year later, Mere finds herself sitting on the Tilted Cactus bar counter on a Friday night, legs swinging and popping olives like they’re mints. She ended up not quitting her job the night she intended to. Between the excitement, the drama, and the on-duty alcohol, she was feeling pretty chill about sticking it out at the Tilted Cactus a while longer.

But she ended up quitting two days later when the owner found out about how she impersonated an assistant manager and gave her hell for it. She could have stayed, he wasn’t really going to reprimand her. But listening to him talk down at her while her stomach filled with dread at the idea of having to apologize and walk back into that hell hole…nah. Fuck the Tilted Cactus, fuck the owner, and fuck two weeks’ notice. They weren’t getting a minute out of her ever again.

She took the gamble of taking out more student loans and was wrapping up her EMT certification. She’d be in an ambulance soon enough, actually helping people. Not the dream that got her to America, but one that would suffice for now. Make up enough karma to get her feet back under her.

“The lesbians are back,” Umida announces excitedly in a whisper as she fits herself between Mere’s legs against the bar.

“Which lesbians?”

“THEE lesbians,” Umida returns, pointing out the window.

“Those are two guys, babe. Three if you count the kid.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida insists, waving her hand to dismiss the kid from her labels. “They have strong lesbian energy.”

“You’re claiming them for your people?” Mere grins fondly. It’s the start of Pride again and Umida’s Ally pin has been traded in for a lesbian-flag coloured hijab secured with the updated BIPOC Pride flag pin. She’s very pretty in pink, right down to the lipstick Mere isn’t allowed to kiss off of her until her shift is up.

“I am, they’re mine. I claim them.”

“Wait,” Mere squints, trying to pin down the familiar feeling she’s getting, “are those…”

“The guys! Eddie and Buck. I told you they were semi-regulars now. And we were right, that’s totally their kid. I don’t know how, especially since we know they weren’t together before that night, but he’s their kid. My money’s on one of them being trans because he’s literally their spitting image combined.”

Mere sighs happily and hugs Umida to her. “Well, I’m glad some good came out of that night.”

“Umida?” a young voice asks from across the bar. In the year since the reopening, a slew of new hires have joined the ranks to replace all the veterans leaving and Mere barely recognizes anyone anymore. She saw Mikael (unsurprisingly single again) a couple of weeks ago but he’s clearly on his way out too. Tomas lasted until his probation was over before quitting. Umida, in no small part because she was the longest lasting employee, was rightfully promoted to the role of assistant manager. Mere still hopes she’ll leave this hell hole soon but in the meantime, at least she’s getting paid. And authority looks really good on her.

“What up, Jerome?”

Jerome pushes his dark blue fringe back and holds up a sheet of paper. “I have a note here to deliver a ring to a table with dessert but it doesn’t say who’s supposed to get it.”

“Oh my god, no, no way,” Mere laughs and tries to push Umida away. “Let me out of here.”

Umida’s arms close around her hips, preventing her escape.

“Calm down. I created a form so that night doesn’t happen again. Jerome, did you use the form?”

“Um, yeah.” He shakes the sheet of paper in his hands. “I mean whoever took the call did. They checked off the table number, and it’s a ‘fiancé’ not a ‘fiancée’, but it’s a table with two guys so…”

“Okay, but there’s a field for the name, did they fill it out?”

“How am I supposed to know who they are from a name though?”

“Oh my god, kid, you schmooze,” Umida says. “You roll up to their table, you lay on the customer service thick and introduce yourself and ask their names. People are idiots, they’ll tell you, just like that.”

Jerome cocks his head in contemplation. “Yeah okay, but no, there’s no name. It’s blank.”

“But you made a form,” Mere mock whispers.

Umida turns on her, her eyeshadow catching the bar lights as she narrows her eyes. “This is not the form’s fault, don’t you blame this on the form! The form has a field for a name! The form provides!”

“The form is flawless,” Mere agrees quickly, running her hand down Umida’s arm soothingly. “You can’t account for user error.”

Umida glares harder before looking up to the ceiling in supplication.

Mere, who has never in her life been able to resist picking at a scab, asks, “what table is it?”

Jerome checks the paper. “34.”

“The cursed table. The cursed lesbians!” Mere gasps, squirming out of the way when Umida tries to pinch her side.

“Well it’s not like the kid is a contender, so it’s 50/50,” Umida points out. “Much better odds than last time.”

“And to be fair, if the wrong guy gets the flute, he can just improvise and propose with the ring in hand,” Mere continues. “Overall, much less exciting drama than last time. 3/10 for me.”

“Thank god. Yeah, let’s do that.” Jerome walks away with his marching orders and Umida turns to Mere. “I have to actually go work. You gonna hang out here?” She’s off in a half hour and they have tickets to the back row of the latest Marvel nonsense.

“I got booze, olives, and an unobstructed view of my favourite drama. I’m all set.” In lieu of a proper kiss, Mere lifts Umida’s hand and kisses her wrist, delighting in watching her girlfriend’s eyes soften. She blows Mere a kiss and flits away to put out fires.

Mere is usually on her phone while she waits for Umida but tonight she watches table 34. The guys — Eddie and Buck, Umida reminded her — are across the table from each other, Eddie is relaxed in his chair but Buck is leaning forward, elbows on the table as he tells their son a story that has him cackling in his seat. They’re not holding hands, but anyone looking can see they’re together. They have ridiculous heart eyes for each other, and from her vantage point she can see those long legs intermingling again, one knee occasionally jostling into the other. Little tangible reminders that they’re there and together.

She saw hints of this that night, and to see it have taken hold and blossomed...suddenly she’s really invested in them having a great night. One of them planned this night out, wanted to surprise the other, and she doesn’t want that going to waste because of a blank field on a form.

Mere’s wearing a dark long-sleeve blouse, not too far off the dress code, so slips off the counter, snags the backup apron they always leave behind the bar and ties it around her waist. One of the newbies whose name she doesn’t know watches her from the host pedestal and Mere raises a fierce eyebrow at them until they go back to minding their own business.

She rinses out a jug and fills it with water and ice and slips back into her customer service posture to make the rounds of the tables in section 10.

“Well now, I recognize you handsome folk, don’t I?” she schmoozes when she gets to table 34, picking up Eddie’s glass first to fill.

Eddie doesn’t place her and she doesn’t blame him, he was under a lot of stress that night. It takes Buck a second but he gets it.

“Oh hey, yeah! Weren’t you — “ Buck cuts himself off awkwardly and casts an eye to Eddie and the kid. “You, ah, gave us our meals for free! Because of the, um, mix-up.”

That’s enough for Eddie to place her, and where Buck relaxes back into his chair as she fills his glass, Eddie goes stock still.

Bingo.

“What mix-up?” the kid asks.

“Ah, they put something in our drink by accident,” Buck lies without lying. “Real choking hazard! So they gave us our meals for free.”

“That’s dangerous,” the kid says.

“It was dangerous,” Mere agrees, filling his glass. “Choking hazard was right. Could have turned a really great night all wrong with a trip to the hospital.”

Eddie’s brow furrows slightly and Mere struggles to keep a neutral face.

“It’s never a good idea to hide things in food. I don’t know why people keep trying instead of just calling us for advice. We have tons of ways to help people with surprises.”

“I completely agree,” Buck says. “We’re actually firefighters and you wouldn’t believe how many accidental choking calls we get.”

Eddie swallows, his eyes looking mildly panicked.

“Firefighters!” Mere schmoozes harder, smiling at the kid as he gets excited again. “Well I certainly feel safer then.”

“Ah, you probably shouldn’t. I was actually one of those calls once,” Buck says halfway through a smile and grimace, pointing to his throat where there’s a faint scar. “Emergency tracheotomy on the floor of a restaurant. But that wasn’t a surprise, just, ah, too enthusiastic about the breadsticks.”

Eddie’s looking decidedly gray now, eyes laser focused on the scar.

“Okay, well I’ll just go ahead and clear these,” Mere says, jokingly reaching for the bread basket until Buck laughs back.

“I’m better now, promise! Small bites, chewed thoroughly!”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she dithers dramatically, nodding to the kid. “If I leave those here, can I trust you to keep an eye on your dad?”

“Yeah!” the kid agrees with a toothy grin.

Buck’s cheeks redden quickly but he’s still smiling, his head ducked shyly in a way Mere doubts is due to her teasing. Eddie, meanwhile, is still looking poleaxed though fondness is fighting its way back in.

“Well, I was just subbing into this section so this will be goodbye for us but it was great to see you guys! Enjoy your evening!”

“Thanks, you too!” Buck says with an easy smile. Eddie manages a “thank you” and Mere has to restrain herself from patting his shoulder as she walks away.

She’s only just returned the apron to the bar when she sees Eddie walk in and head straight for the host before being led to the back.

“Ready to go?” Umida asks, back in her unsensible heels and cross-chest messenger bag.

Mere takes the hand she extends but tugs her closer instead of following her out, before saying the worst thing she’s ever said in her life, “Actually, do you mind if we stick around a little longer?”

“Something good about to happen?” she asks, peeking out the window.

Mere tugs her in closer and leans her chin on her shoulder. “I think so.”

Twenty minutes later, when Jerome passes by with a tray of assorted chocolate treats and two overturned coffee cups, Mere and Umida find themselves bracketed by half the front and back staff. Gossip still spreads like wildfire it seems.

Buck’s overturned coffee cup and plate is the last thing Jerome puts on the table, and as soon as it’s down, he excuses himself. He keeps a professional pace until he’s past the exterior doors and then he’s racing to take a front seat at the bar.

Eddie turns over his cup but doesn’t reach for the carafe, he wipes his hands on his jeans instead.

“Oh my god, he’s so nervous,” Jerome whispers.

“The kid is so in on it,” the host whose name Mere never caught says, and they’re right. Where Eddie’s tensed up, the kid is bouncing in his seat like he knows something’s coming.

“Come on, guy,” a bus boy mutters, checking his watch. His break is almost over.

Mere’s heart is beating hard in sympathy with Eddie’s as they all watch Buck ignore his coffee cup in favor of serving their kid from the tray. Then he signals to Eddie’s plate, who can’t not lift it for the offered chocolate tortes. Finally, there’s chocolate on everyone’s plates and Buck sits back to try a piece of brownie and Eddie can’t take it anymore.

He motions to the carafe and Buck perks up, finally reaching for his cup. But just as his fingers close around it, some idiot’s dog barks on the sideway, calling his attention away. His fingers flip the cup without ever looking at it, or the plate underneath it.

“Oh come on,” Umida moans.

The dog passes with its dumbass owner and Buck puts his cup back down, or tries to, but finds something in the way. He tries again, pushing the intrusion away with the bottom of the cup.

“Oh my god,” is whined in Mere’s left ear and when she turns her head she’s surprised to find not another Tilted Cactus employee but a customer dressed to the nines, pearls and all.

“Ma’am, did you —”

“Shh,” the woman returns, her eyes never moving from the window. Mere turns back too.

Finally, Buck has managed to push the offending items off the plate and settle his cup down and it’s a nail-biting few seconds where it actually looks like he’s going to reach for the carafe and go about his business.

But like a true wingman, the little kid points directly at it, prompting Buck to push the napkin aside and pick up — the ring.

Buck freezes, holding the ring between his thumb and index. His cheeks flush and a smile begins to break over his face before he looks startled and the smile falls abruptly away.

It’s about this time Eddie realizes that proposing by recreating the night they got together was never going to be the best idea when the impetus to their relationship was an engagement ring accidentally sent to the wrong person.

Eddie vaults out of his seat and into the empty one next to Buck, wrapping his hand around the one holding the ring, and bringing his other hand to his cheek to gently turn his head until Buck is looking at him. They can’t tell what he says, but they can watch Buck’s eyes fill with tears, watch as Eddie gestures to their son who’s smiling wide and reaching out for a hand, which Buck instantly provides. His attention comes back to Eddie then, who’s saying something that gets them both looking a little fragile and it’s hard to say if he actually popped the question yet but Buck is surging forward to kiss him hard and fast. Eddie gives as good as he’s getting for a moment before he slows them with small, gentle kisses. And when they finally break apart, Eddie plucks the ring from Buck’s fingers and slides it onto his ring finger as Buck watches, his eyes wide and half incredulous.

Outside, the nearby tables break out into applause, startling the trio and reminding the two men that they are indeed out in public. Eddie acknowledges the applause with an embarrassed hand and waits until they have a modicum of privacy again before taking Buck’s hand and kissing right near the where the ring now sits. He then reluctantly shuffles back into his seat.

Inside, Mere is hugging Umida to her with a strength buoyed by love. Around them, the staff are starting to disperse, some wiping their eyes, some with goofy grins on their faces.

“Young man,” the lady in the pearls says to Jerome, holding out her credit card, “I want you to charge that family’s meal to my card.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s very generous of you.”

The woman sniffs delicately and leaves without another word. Hopefully Jerome knows where she was sitting…

“I’m glad she did that,” Mere says into Umida’s shoulder, “I was going to, otherwise, and I’m a broke-ass student.”

“I would have pitched in,” Umida says, her voice soft and pensive. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Mere agrees, sliding off the bar counter for the last time. “Oh, hold on.”

She gets closer to the window and turns the flash off of her camera before taking a pic.

“I think that’s bordering on creepy now,” Umida says without judgement.

“It’s not for me.” Mere sends the pic off with a note and three ring emojis.

They don’t make it out of the restaurant before her phone dings.

“What does Tomas have to say?” Umida asks with a smirk.

Mere pulls up the text and reads, “Gays and lesbians. Both, at the same time. Never doubting Umida’s gaydar again.”

Umida laughs victoriously, which shouldn’t be as sexy as it is, and Mere lets her drag her by the hand down the street, letting the nostalgia from tonight settle in her chest.

If there’s anything she misses from working the restaurant scene, it’s getting this glimpse into people’s lives.

Yeah, most of the work was gross, obnoxious, or mind-numbing. But every now and again, she got to be a part of strangers’ stories. Got to be there for the happiest days like graduations, or bridal showers. And even the sadder stories could be beautiful sometimes, like when she got to be extra kind to the elderly woman coming into the restaurant alone for the first time in ten years, or watch a family have their last supper together before their kid moves away for school. It’s just all so human and some kind of wonderful.

She hopes her career as a paramedic will have just a little bit of that kind of magic.

[hlizr50]

You Belong with Me

Azriel and his brothers are high-power executives, and while the Valkyrie ladies always attend the fancy dinners and events, Gwyn is NOT wealthy and is the only one who isn't attached to someone who is. When Gwyn volunteers to take Azriel to the cabin early to prep for their big family/friends vacation, they have a conversation about how she might have to cut back. Add in banter and hours of Gwyn unabashedly belting Taylor Swift, and Az realizes that not having her around is just not an option.

Guys... I've never cared for AU, never been big into song lyrics. But my soul just needed this to be a thing. So here it is.

Read on AO3

“You sure this thing is gonna get us there?” Azriel’s smug grin only earned an eyeroll from the redhead on the other side of the car, opening the driver’s side door.

“Just put your shit in the trunk and get in the car,” she huffed across the weathered blue of the roof. He chuckled, slinging his suitcase into the trunk as the door slammed – maybe with a little extra force. He loved poking at her, and he knew she would dish it right back. After closing the trunk he returned to the open door on the passenger’s side and lowered himself into the well-worn leather seat. “You know not all of us are fortunate enough to be high-level executives at multi-million dollar companies. But rest assured that this historical document restoration expert and her 16-year-old Toyota with 154000 miles are going to get you to the cabin safe and sound. Because you insisted on getting there a day early to make sure everything is secure.” Gwyn deepened her voice, giving him her best Azriel impersonation. And maybe he was being a bit… overzealous. But he had always been the most keenly aware, the most protective. He may have been CFO, but he was also deeply involved in security – both from the standpoint of the organization and of it’s employees. And his family.

He simply smirked, “If you say so.”

“You’re insufferable,” she groaned, turning the key. The car rumbled to life, and Azriel had to admit that he was impressed with how quiet it still seemed to run. He was sure Gwyn was a stickler about maintenance. “Just for that, you are sentenced to three hours of me serenading you with the best songs Taylor Swift has to offer.”

“Oh, Gods, anything but Taylor Swift.” Azriel grimaced, hiding the secret joy he rarely let her see. He loved it when she sang. Her voice was lovely, of course, but what hit him harder was how she seemed to radiate joy when she did it.

Gwyneth Berdara wasn’t quiet and shy like he tended to be – not by a long shot. She was irreverent and blunt and bold. But he could see the shadows that hid just behind the shimmer in her eyes – he could tell there were demons there. Her sister had been murdered four years before, in the apartment they both had shared, and it had wounded her deeply. Nesta had mentioned that there was more to the story, but that it was only Gwyn’s to tell. So, yes, she definitely had darkness that followed her, but she kept it well hidden. He’d learned, as they had become friends, that she often grew anxious in large crowds or chaotic environments. She didn’t feel safe, and that had always bothered him. Regardless of how many people were around or how crazy it was, her friends were there with her. He was there. Whatever it was that kept her so on edge, he imagined that the lingering sadness in that deep ocean gaze and the faraway wistful look that sometimes passed over her features were a part of it.

But when she sang she was a beacon of light, with the brightest smile and rosy, freckle-flecked cheeks.

“Don’t you dare disrespect the goddess T. Swift,” she glowered, and as they pulled onto the highway he lost himself in the lilting notes of her car concert.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been driving – at least seven works of the goddess T. Swift – when he reached for the volume knob on the console and turned it down.

“Are you coming to the charity gala in a couple weeks?” Azriel looked over at her, noting the light stain of pink gracing her cheeks. She kept her eyes on the road.

“Oh… No.” Gwyn glanced over at him and gave a tight smile, causing him to purse his lips.

“Why not?”

“Az,” she chided, throwing him a stern look. “It’s too expensive. I can’t afford a seat and a dress. Hell, I probably can’t even afford one or the other.” He stayed silent, mulling over the understanding that money wasn’t something he ever had to worry about, and how he could make that not a problem for her. “Besides, you know how I am with crowds like that. I’d probably just have an attack and ruin everyone’s night.” She tried to laugh it off, and that troubled Azriel even more. Because she had seemed disappointed just then when she said she wasn’t going.

“Do you want to go, Gwyn?” He prodded. I want you to go. She sighed, adjusting herself in her seat to straighten her back.

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, it’s really not possible for me.” She shrugged, as if that was it.

But that wasn’t it. Everyone was going to be there. She should be there, too. She should be there, with him.

“You know we would help –“

“I know, Az. But I’m not asking you, or Rhys. I’m not asking anyone. I can’t keep depending on everyone else just to go to events and dinners and whatever else.” She sucked in a breath. “I just… I don’t live the same life that the rest of you do. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just how it is.”

“Gwyn, you know nobody cares about that.” Azriel frowned. “I understand that my family is… fortunate. Privileged. But you and Nesta and Emerie are a part of us.”

“It’s not the same, Azriel.” Azriel. The full name. This was more serious than he realized. “Nesta is with Cassian and Emerie is with Mor. It makes sense that maybe they’re taken care of. I’m just… a friend. A friend who is poor.” He opened his mouth to argue but she beat him to it. “And it’s not just about covering food… you go to places with dress codes and too many forks for dinner, and with the company’s increasing success the three of you are only growing more popular and more press-worthy. Especially you.”

“Me?” Azriel swallowed, brows furrowed. “Why especially me?”

Gwyn cast him a pointed look, eyes dark and serious. “You’re the last single brother, Az. You are eligible bachelor number one. All the single ladies in the metropolitan area, if not further out, will be pining for you. If they’re not already.”

Eligible bachelor number one. He rolled his eyes. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Oh Az. Sweet, precious, innocent Az. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous. You’re wealthy, successful, and absolutely beautiful.” Azriel raised a brow and gave her a sideways glance, but she was so stubbornly keeping her eyes trained ahead. It was responsible, of course. She was driving. But not even a peek meant that she was intentionally avoiding looking over at him. The corners of his mouth turned downward, not quite understanding how this conversation had gone the way it had.

“Is that so? Please, tell me more,” he snickered. If there was anything that he knew, it was how to draw her back with teasing. She wouldn’t back down from a challenge, and Gwyneth Berdara was ruthless when it came to having the last word. The corner of her mouth twitched, and he knew she was doing her best not to smile.

“I hate you so much,” she huffed.

“Now, I don’t think that’s even remotely true.” He reached out to pinch the apple of her cheek, but she slapped his hand away, sending a glower that only made him laugh.

“The single ladies can have you. Maybe you’ll find someone else to annoy.”

“Aw, Gwynnie. You know nobody could ever replace you.” And even though it was in jest, it was also… true. “And what would you do without me?”

“Get some peace and quiet for once?” And when the redhead turned with that scrunched freckled nose and her tongue stuck out at him Azriel was relieved to have the playful girl – his best friend – wearing a smile again. “Now shut it or sing along, you have not been punished with nearly enough of our lady Taylor Swift.”

And so the ride continued, but Azriel chewed on his lower lip, contemplating everything Gwyn had said. She was fiercely independent, so he could understand how she might not want to accept what she might perceive as charity, or worse, pity. But the idea of her just not being there… it made something inside of him feel hollow. He reached out and turned down the volume again.

“Why wouldn’t you say anything? About where we’re going to dinner? Or about not being comfortable at big events?” He didn’t even try to hide that he was staring at her, trying to pinpoint any reaction she may have. Once again pink stained her cheeks.

“Az, it’s not like you guys are going to stop going to fancy restaurants so you can come to Wendy’s with me. I don’t want to take away from anyone’s fun.” Fucking ridiculous.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe we would have less fun without you there?” Azriel tried to keep his tone light, but his temper was flaring. He wasn’t sure why, but it bothered him that she would think she could just… not be there and they would all just go on like it didn’t matter.

“Of course I did,” Gwyn shrugged nonchalantly and threw him a wink. “I know it will be hard but I’m sure you’ll manage somehow. Besides, I don’t plan on just disappearing. I just… need to be more thoughtful about what I’m doing. I’ll just be around… less.” She turned the volume back up and jumped straight into the lyrics, not giving him the opportunity to tell her how preposterous she sounded.

Azriel leaned back in his seat, losing himself in thought with Gwyn’s lovely voice still soothing him in the background. He didn’t know how long he’d been brooding when the volume increased dramatically, blaring through the interior. Looking over he found her tapping on the steering wheel and swaying to the beat of her majesty Taylor Swift. Her eyes were shining, her smile was brilliant, and she sang like she didn’t have a care in the world.

You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset

She’s going off about something that you said

‘Cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do

I’m in my room, it’s a typical Tuesday night

I’m listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like

And she’ll never know your story like I do

But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

You belong with me

Walkin’ the streets with you and your worn-out jeans

I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be

Laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself

Hey, isn’t this easy?

And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town

I haven’t seen it in awhile since she brought you down

You say you’re fine, I know you better than that

Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

She wears high heels, I wear sneakers

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time how could you not know, baby?

You belong with me

You belong with me

Azriel felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was seeing Gwyn for the first time. Unbridled joy, laughter when she turned to him when she was singing, dancing in the driver’s seat like a passenger’s worst nightmare.

And he couldn’t help but listen to the words, too. Surely that part was coincidence, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was speaking to him… something was speaking to him.

He grinned as she shimmied her shoulders and rocked her head from side to side, wisps of copper flying away from her ponytail.

Oh, I remember you drivin’ to my house in the middle of the night

I’m the one who makes you laugh even though you’re ‘bout to cry

I know your favorite songs and you tell me ‘bout your dreams

Think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me

Can’t you see that I’m the one that understands you

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time, how could you not know baby?

You belong with me

You belong with me

You belong with me

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me

You belong with me

“Gosh I think I went too hard on that one. I’m out of breath!” she laughed, and she glanced toward Azriel in the passenger seat. “Have you had enough yet, Az?”

“Never,” he murmured, and her breath caught. She turned her focus back to the road, but kept stealing looks back at him. She seemed unsure of how to respond, but he was also lost in his own head.

He didn’t want to be the eligible bachelor. He didn’t want to annoy anyone else. He knew that he had cared for Gwyn as more than a friend for a long time – Nesta and Cassian had always encouraged him to do something about it. Nesta in particular had assured him that Gwyn felt the same way. But no matter how much Azriel had flirted she never seemed to acknowledge it, never seemed inclined to do something about it. They bantered and challenged and laughed, but never more.

But Nesta continued to be insistent. She told Azriel that there were some things about Gwyn that might keep her from acting upon her affection for him, and maybe he should make the first move. He never had, of course, for fear of rejection and fear of ruining the relationship that they had.

But now suddenly he was looking at a future where she wasn’t always there. He didn’t like the thought of that. He would go to Wendy’s for dinner instead of whatever black-tie restaurant had their reservation. But, furthermore, he would take care of her, like Cassian took care of Nesta. He wouldn’t go to events without her, and he would make sure that she was comfortable and safe while she was there. Because he would keep her close. He would always keep her close.

By the time Gwyn was pulling the car onto the driveway leading to the cabin she was only singing quietly to herself and letting him sit in his own silent thought. And as soon as she parked and turned off the car he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Without a word he ripped off the seatbelt and burst out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He was already crossing across the front when Gwyn popped out.

“What the hell, Az? The car is 16 years old you can’t just slam doors like that –“

Azriel grabbed the back of her neck and crushed his lips to hers. Gods, they were perfect – warm and lush. She inhaled shakily against his mouth and he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. He swept his lips across hers once again before pulling away only slightly, resting his forehead against her own. They were both breathing hard, and her expression nearly sent him to his knees. Gwyn’s teal eyes were wide, shining with surprise and confusion. Her lips were swollen and her freckled cheeks stained crimson. Azriel wasn’t going to give himself enough time to question this, though.

“You’re coming to the gala,” he insisted, gaze flitting wildly between her lips and her eyes before drowning in the ocean pools. “I’m buying your ticket. On our way home after this weekend we’ll go shopping for a dress. And no matter what you wear you will be the most exquisite thing there.”

Gwyn looked up at him, chest still heaving and eyes still wide, and nodded.

“And you’re coming to every dinner and event and anything else after that. Because, no matter what you might think, I don’t want to be there if you’re not there.”

“Az –“

“And when you’re there, you won’t think about money or crowds. Because I’ll be there. I’m going to take care of you and make sure you’re safe. Because I don’t just want you to be there with all of us. I want you to be there with me. Okay, Gwyn?” His eyes bore into hers, willing her to understand, to see what was in his heart.

“Okay,” she nodded. Her breaths had quieted, her eyes were warm, and there was a ghost of a smile there. And Azriel dared to hope that Nesta had been right, and all he’d needed was to take the leap.

“Can I kiss you again, Gwyn?” he asked.

“Please,” she giggled at him, smile widening. He leaned in, this time with much more restraint and care, slanting his lips over her soft ones and gently moving against them. When he pulled away his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin, which grew impossibly bigger when he saw her blushing.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he laughed, still not believing that he had done all that, and that it had… worked?

“I… I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time.” Gwyn sighed and then dragged her bottom lip between her teeth. “So… so just to be clear. You want me… to be…?” Azriel chuckled and ran his hands down her arms and then tangling their fingers together.

“I want to date you. I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to aggravate any other single ladies. I don’t want to be an eligible bachelor. I just want you. We can go to fancy dinners or charity events or the finest fast food restaurants in the metropolitan area.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and then kissed her cheek. “Will you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Of course, Az.” He bent his head and kissed her again. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was like he was making up for lost time.

“As her holy highness Taylor Swift said, you belong with me,” Azriel grinned devilishly. “I can’t help but be suspicious that you planned that… planned to make me fall for your beautiful voice and how adorable you are.” Gwyn tilted her head back and laughed, nearly a cackle full of amusement and contentment.

“I did not plan it, but I’m not going to complain about how it turned out.”