#‘hi there! how’s your pride month going? any fun plans for the weekend? >>>

[twistedappletree]

if i’ve learned anything in my many centuries on the internet it’s that whenever someone has “i hate small talk and one word responses” in their bio it means they’re gonna give you the most boring one word response to a message you put a lot of effort into lmao

[bitchapalooza]

Some father-son hcs for Giacomo and Larry!

Larry was roughly 30 when Giacomo was born. (Larry is 46 now!)

Hes very serious when he says it was the happiest day of his life. He was nearly late because he was at work when he got the call, but luckily he got there in time.

But when he finally got to hold Giacomo in his arms, he was so happy! He didn't feel overworked or sleep deprived for once. He was giddy. Hed been waiting so long to meet him after being told he was going to be a dad. He felt like he actually had a reason to work so hard and so much.

When he and his wife divorced, it was mutual but still pretty rocky. Giacomo was about 5 when it happened. He remembers just being confused and wondering why he was visiting his grandparents so often until suddenly his dad is moving out without them and his mom is selling the house and moving into an apartment.

When Larry started dating again, Giacomo didnt know how to feel. And like any confused 7 year old, he kind of took it out on the woman his dad was seeing— Katy.

He was never really mean or did anything mean, its more like he always chose to ignore her when she'd try talking to him. Happened more often when Giacomo found out Larry and Katy had been dating for several months before introducing Katy to him! He felt like Larry was lying to him when he brought her over for dinner! His little kid brain just assumed they just met that exact day lmao

He mainly acted this way, though, because he thought his mom was gonna leave if Larry and Katy got married 😭

When his mom finally explained to him that nothings gonna happen to her and she'll be his mom forever and Katy wasn't planning anything, he settled down. Still was weary of Katy, but at least he was more open to her like telling her his interests for example.

Now, Gia and Katy are on good terms of course. He was the ring bearer for their wedding and he was super serious about his job!

Larry and Giacomo used to be much closer than they are now. Giacomo used to be so excited about his summer weekends with his dad, but for the past couple summers, Giacomo's been distant and recently has been holing himself up at his base.

Larry did try to speaking to him about going back to school and getting serious about his education, especially if he wished to go to college like he planned, but Giacomo wasnt having any of it. Even brought up the fact that hes not home often enough to even know whats going on so maybe he should "back off". But Gia never made the effort to let either of his parents know what was going on in the first place.

Things are... Not better, but at least Gia doesn't get upset or yell at his parents anymore. Since dealing with his bullies, his attitude has improved.

When Larry did learn about the bullying, he was not happy. Especially when no one from the old staff told him until recently when Gia came out about himself.

Larry's idea of having fun outtings with Gia are taking him out to eat and taking him to work 💀

He doesn't get Gia's interests, but tries his best to encourage them if they make him happy.

Larry prides himself on not raising a spoiled child. He taught Gia, from a young age, to ALWAYS work hard for his money. He never once spoiled Gia and always assigned him chores in order to earn his allowance. And once he started Pokémon training and earning money through battles, Larry sat Gia down so he could properly learn how to save and budget money.

He was realistic with him that working in the real world wasn't going to be great, even if you've gotten your dream job. There's always set backs and you have to learn to live with them. Sometimes you may have to choose between work and making a living or your desires. And Gia has kept these lessons in mind.

Larry honestly misses the days when Gia was so small. During his paternity leave, Larry spent so much time bonding with Gia before he got busy with work again. He'd sit in the chair in his nursery, holding Giacomo to his chest so he'd hear his heartbeat, copying exactly how Gia's mom held him.

The first time Gia got sick it was an ear infection. He was crying for hours non stop with a fever and even threw up a few times. While his mom was freaking out and worried because the fever wasn't getting any better after two days even with medicine, Larry sat there calling his mom for her "miracle remedy". He too had frequent bad ear infections as a child and already figured Gia might too. His mom advised him what to do to ease the discomfort and keep him calm and he immediately set out to get the things. It was just a stuffed animal he could put a rice heat pack in and put to his ear(s) for a few minutes. At times like these Larry would stay up all night if he had to to help Gia with the pain.

Unfortunately, these ear infections didnt become less common as Gia grew up like Larry's did by age 8. He still gets them now, but antibiotics respond well and fast enough. His mom refuses surgery like doctors suggest, but Larry would honestly prefer it if it meant Gia could stop taking the antibiotics so much.

Larry loves his son. He loves him no matter what. He grew up without his father in his life 90% of the time and is determined to make sure he doesn't do the same to Gia. Its hard to do with his work schedule and all, but hes in Gia's life way more than his own father was his.

Larry has tried playing the video games Giacomo likes, and he got motion sick. Very motion sick. And Gia brings this up constantly.

No, Larry does not make dad jokes. He cannot stand them. Giacomo, to annoy his father, makes the dad jokes instead. But you won't catch him doing it around his friends. Yeah he'd rather die.

[glittter-vamp]

CHAPTER 8

Joe Burrow x Bisexual OC.

Warnings: 18+MDNI. Angsty. SAPPHIC SMUT.

Word Count: 3.1k

Body Move by Dizzy Fae blasted throughout Valeria's Condo as she cleaned up. It was a nice Saturday morning and she took it upon herself to clean up her space being that it was as cluttered as her mind has been lately. She was organizing her insane collection of shoes in her closet when her phone rang interrupting the music that was playing through her apartment since her phone was connected to the soundbar in the living room. Sighing in annoyance, she walks from the spot in her closet and retrieves her phone that was sitting on her stripped bed due her sheets getting washed. Seeing the caller ID she sees its Summer which still catches her off guard seeing her name on her phone. They had swapped numbers the day Summer arrived unannounced to Valeria's door with the flowers Joe hated.

"Hello?" Val answers the call. 

"Hey! I hope I'm not calling at a bad time." Summer replies seeming a bit nervous.

"You're not, what's up?" Val asks as she looks at the mountain pile of shoes she was donating, she couldn't believe how many shoes were stuffed in her closet. 

"I was just wondering if you wanted to grab a bite with me, there's this Mexican spot one of the construction guys suggested to me. I'll buy! " Summer asks. 

"Oh um, well what time did you want to meet up?" Valeria looks around her mess, she definitely needed some time to arrange all this. 

"How about 4ish?" I'll text you the address, it's not that far from your place.." She says. Val could hear the smile in her voice which made her smile too. 

"Yeah that's fine, I'll see you then!" Val agrees. It had been a bit since Val had seen Summer. She'd been super busy with the development job she's here in Cincy for and Val was also super busy with the store. It was finally June so, it was pride month and Kade & Elsa's idea was popping off better than any of them expected. They were all pulling early mornings an late nights but everything was going pretty well for the most part. Sure there were trolls on the company's Instagram and even google reviews but the support surpassed the hate by a lot and that's what everyone had decided to focus on. Val even had customers tell her that she'd inspire them to come out to those around them which shocked her considering the circumstances of Val's sexuality coming to light wasn't really ideal for her. 

Agreeing on the plans, Summer and Val hang up and she continues her cleaning. It was only 10AM now so Val had plenty of time to clean and then get ready later. But, as she was finally finishing up on her closet she received yet another call, this time a facetime from Joe. Taking a deep breath she answered.

"Hey!" Val answers with a small smile on her face. 

"So much for calling me back yesterday." Joe gives her an unimpressed look and Val grimaces completely forgetting about that. 

"I'm sorry! I got caught up with the store and didn't get home until 11PM. Once I came home I showered and knocked out." She says looking at him with a sorry look on her face. 

"It's okay, I knew you were already busy there when I called. But, how are are things going?" He asks he looked like he we at the gym and was sweaty as one could be after a workout. 

"It's been busy but so far so good." She nods. 

"I'm glad to hear it, you've worked hard for this...which is why I think we should go out to celebrate." Joe suggests and Val looks at him crazy. This was so out of the blue she wondered if she even heard him right. 

"Since when do you want to go out to celebrate anything, especially with me?" Val asks scoffing making Joe roll his eyes at her comment and reaction. 

"Are you busy next weekend? I sort of made us reservations at the Marble Room." He smirks. 

"In Cleveland!? You never even go past Columbus." Val says shocked. 

"I wanted to try something new with you and treat you to something nice. So what do you say? I think it'll be fun, you also deserve some time off and away from everything." Joe says. 

"Joe...we talked about boundaries last week." Val sighs. He knew better than to do something like this after the conversation they had and both agreed on.

"C'mon Val, I'm giving you what you want and it's still an issue." Joe sighs rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

"I need to know you're doing it because you want to and because you're over this whole, keeping me a secret stuff. Not because you want to win me over and go back to how things were. You know that's not an option. Plus going to Cleveland means an overnight trip and we both agreed on no sex again while we're figuring stuff out." Val shakes her head. 

"Who said anything about that? and I'm not dumb, I know you're hooking up with Summer anyway so of course you don't care to have sex with me." Joe says which annoys and upsets Val. She knew Joe was pity because she wasn't falling for his little game.

"I'm not hooking up with anyone Joe, you need to stop with the shit about Summer. I don't bring up the model from Miami and throw it in your face so you shouldn't do that to me!" Val argues back. 

"Because she's not in my life! Summer is in yours and I know she's working at an angle here. Especially now since she knows about us and our rocky relationship, this is the perfect time to sweep you off your feet." Joe says making Val roll her eyes at him while trying to keep her cool. 

"If you're going to keep up with this we should just call it quits right now because I don't appreciate you acting like this and accusing me of having sex with Summer when I haven't even seen her in weeks and the last person I fucked was you." Val snaps back over Joe's shit.

"There's just no way I believe that, after that video at the club Val. We agreed on dating other people if we wanted but I don't buy that she's not over there at your place late at night or taking you out to places." Joe shakes his head. 

"Then our conversation here is done here, bye." Val says hanging up on him. Val was now livid at Joe at the way he kept throwing this in her face. Yeah she cheated but so did he and she wasn't being petty like he was throwing that stuff in his face like he was to her.

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

"Smells like lavender in here, I love that scent!" Summer smiles as she walks into Val's place. They had just gotten done with their meal and drinks at the Mexican restaurant which was great, Val made a mental note to go back their with her friends soon. 

"When you called me I was cleaning every inch of this place so that's why it smells decent" Val chuckles shutting the door behind her. 

"I'm so glad my job is playing for my stay and I have house cleaning, with the amount of work I need to get done in one day coming home to a clean hotel room is sooo great." Summer teases. 

"Lucky! Maybe I should invest in housekeeping around here." Val pouts making Summer laugh. 

"We should of stopped for some wine! I'm dumb, we literally passed by a liquor store too." Summer says sitting on the couch. 

"I have two bottles, both red. I always have back up, did you forget whose house this is?" Val smirks. 

"You're the best. Reminds me of all the secret bottles of Vodka you had in your room because Gen and Karina would always drink yours if you let them in the kitchen." Summer laughs at Val as she walks over to the kitchen to open a bottle up winking at her. 

"So, now that you're out and proud, are you going to the pride parade this month? I saw a flyer for it at the club the other night, its next Saturday." Summer asks as Val pops open a wine bottle and gets two wine glasses from her cupboard.

"I was thinking of it. The gang wants to go, are you going?" Val asks her. 

"Eh, don't know what I would do there alone other than see the parade." She chuckles. 

"You can come with us! I'll keep in contact with you about it, we're coordinating outfits with some for the stuff from the store, I'll keep you in the loop." Val says bringing over a glass of wine for Summer. 

"Sounds fun, thanks!" Summer smiles as Val sits at arms reach next to summer on the couch after handing her drink. 

"So, how are you liking Ohio? Making you want to move back after all these years?" Val teases. 

"Hell no, my family came down from Columbus and they were asking me the same thing. I love California too much to ever come back here." Summer shakes her head before taking a sip of her wine.

"I haven't been in a while. I should go, I miss Disneyland." Val says before sipping her wine. 

"There's so much to do in Cali and you want to go to...Disney...you have not changed." Summer laughs. 

"I've only been to Disney once! I deserve to go again." Val shrugs not feeling ashamed about wanting to go to Disney at her adult age. 

"You should have your rich NFL boyfriend take you. I think they do private tours, I think he could afford that." Summer giggles sarcastically. 

"Yeah... that's sooo not happening. He is not happy with me and I'm not happy with him." Val snorts taking a generous sip of her wine remembering the stupid argument they had today. 

"You guys haven't made up?" Summer asks and Val shakes her head no. 

"We had an argument today actually so... nope." Val lets out of a breath. 

"Sorry to hear that...can I ask about what? Maybe I can give some advice...if you want it of course. I know you must be really trying to salvage the relationship after everything which is understandable." Summer shrugs taking a sip of her wine eyeing Valeria. 

"You. We had argument about you today." Val chuckles. Summer freezing and giving her a confused look. 

"He thinks we're having sex. Plus he's basically is in a competition with you for some stupid reason. He thinks we have something going on and I won't admit to it." Val says rather nonchalantly. 

"I mean...I guess you could see where he's coming from because of the video and our history but I'm sure you've told him we haven't done anything, he should believe you. you've been honest so far with him, he has no reason to doubt you right now. " Summer shakes her head. 

"Yeah, well he doesn't and its annoying and pissing me off. I don't know how much more of this shit I can take, I tried but I think it's really done. Trying to glue back the pieces isn't going to work if the cracks are still visible." Val admits suddenly feeling very sad about the situation and reality of it. 

Summer doesn't say anything except give Valeria a look of sympathy and pats her hand. Val gulps down the rest of her wine and gets up to get a refill offering Summer one which she gladly accepts. After one too many wine glasses and those margarita's they had at the restaurant, Val was starting to feel the liquor a bit. She wasn't drunk, especially no where near like the night at the club but she was starting to feel a lot more comfortable around Summer and had forgotten about Joe for the time being. She was finally letting lose which resulted in feeling like her and Summer hadn't stopped talking in all these years and forgetting about how wrong she did her all those years ago.

"It's 10:30PM and I really don't think I'm going to be sober enough anytime soon to drive myself back to my hotel. I really shouldn't have had the second bottle with you, I'm driving a company rental." Summer says checking her phone seeming uneasy about her being tipsy at the moment knowing she had to leave soon because it had gotten so late. 

"Just stay over, I have plenty clothes you can borrow to sleep in...you can even shower if you'd like too." Val says setting the empty bottles of wine down by the trash can to take out tomorrow. 

"You sure? I wouldn't want to make things even worse between you and Joe...I can just uber and pick up my car tomorrow. It's no biggie." Summer bites her lip still feeling uneasy about the situation. 

"Of course I'm sure and If he already thinks there's something going on between us then it doesn't really matter now, does it? Now come on, we can watch Freaky Friday like we used to when we were supposed to do homework or study." Val says smiling at Summer and walking to her room. Summer follows Val into the the as she starts to go through her drawers finding something for Summer to wear. She picks out one of her old Ohio State oversized tees and hands it to her.

"Here, you can shower first. I'm gonna finish cleaning up the kitchen in the meantime, then I'll take a quick shower and we can watch the best movie ever made." Val smiles at Summer who chuckles at her excitement. Summer agreed to it and Val does as she says. 

"Sounds like a plan!" Summer chuckles.

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

"Jamie was so damn hot in this movie. Talk about a fucking MILF!" Summer shakes her head in disbelief as they watch Jaime Lee Curtis go off on the guitar in the house of blues scene of the movie. 

"She really was." Val agrees as the lay next to each other in bed, rather close with the lights off. Summer and Val give each other both a smile before they slowly lean in and connect their lips. Summer slipping her tongue into Val's mouth immediately and straddling Valeria. All she had on was a shirt and no pants or underwear so Valeria could feel her wetness on her bare thighs. It had been so long since Valeria had hooked up with a woman, it's like she needed to get it out of her system. All the memories of their college nights together came running in both of their minds, feeling the familiar soft feminine touch of each other.

"Wait--Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to regret anything..." Summer asks, her eyes scanning Valeria's face for reassurance. 

"Yeah, I'm sure." Val smiles brushing a strand of hair away from Summer's perfect face before leaning in and kissing her again. They both undress from their pajamas leaving them completely bare and both girls take in each others bodies for the first time in so long. It was almost like it was their first time ever with each other all over again. 

"You look even more gorgeous than what I remember." Summer whispers kissing Val's neck, moaning softly at the feel of her lips going gently down her body.  Summer starts giving her love bites here and there as she always did with Val, devouring her body. Biting and sucking on Val's breasts, her hands went down finding Val's clit making her moan and buck her hips at the sensation. 

"I really missed hearing that sound come out of you, it's music to my ears." Summer smirks before sucking on one of Val's nipples. The sensation of Summer rubbing her clit and sucking her nipple almost sent her over the edge right there. 

"Can I taste you? I just know you still taste so good." Summer whispers kissing Val's chest gently as she looks up at her with eyes full of lust. Val nods a yes as she bites her lip awaiting for what's about to come. Summer moves down and settles in between her thighs, kissing them slowly and leaving bite marks between them, before her tongue slowly swipes between Valeria's wet folds making Val moan, throwing her head back in pleasure. 

"Oh! Fuck...Summer..." Val moans louder than she anticipated. She had forgotten the insane tongue game Summer had and wasn't expecting this type of intense pleasure from her.

Bringing her hand to Summer's long luscious hair, which was cascading over her face, Val pushes it away from her face to see her, her face was only dimly lit by the tv in front of them but Valeria couldn't get enough of seeing Summer nose deep at her core. Summer batting her big brown eyes at her knowing it made Val even more turned on by her. Sucking on her clit, Val struggles to maintain her hips still as the euphoric feeling started to already build up inside her. Summer grabbing ahold of her hip to maintain her in place with one hand. She then slipped two fingers with her free hand inside Val's wetness thrusting it at a perfect pace, as her mouth was still on her. Which, was enough to send Val over the edge and reach her orgasm. 

"Shit...oh my god..mmph." Val moaned and bucked her hips uncontrollably as she reached her high. Summer smirked as she wiped her face off and then seductively sucked the juices off her finger making eye contact with Val who was still catching her breath and coming down from her orgasm. Val forgetting about any relationship problems, let alone Joe. 

"Tell me when you're ready for round two, that was a good warm up for my Jaw and hands. My god do you taste better than I remembered..." Summer smirks. 

A/N: Well...things just got a whole lot messier.

[newtonsheffield]

Aww I didn’t expect Take a Deep Breath Kanthony to be so soft. I really love it. How does Anthony’s proposal go with the special ring he had made for her? 😍😍 Or does Kate jump the gun before he can do it? 😅

Honestly, they are soft together.

I mean, they’ve shagged in every available inch of their home but they’re also very soft together.

A lot of Anthony’s clients are very surprised by what a family guy he is. They think he’s so… intimidating, honestly. He’s got tattoos everywhere, piercings, he drives an enormous motorcycle, and he’s comfortable and confident in who he is. Doesn’t give a fuck what anyone says.

And one guy asks him, pretty randomly one Friday: “Any big plans for the weekend?“

“I’ve got a couple things on.” Anthony replies. Wiping the excess ink from the guy’s skin. “What about you, Man?”

“My band’s playing in this lineup. You should swing by if you get a chance. Lots of girls to go round.” The guy says with a wink and Anthony just clicks his tongue.

“Have fun, man. I’m taking my son to the park tomorrow. It’s going to be his first time on the carousel.”

The man just gaped at Anthony, “You have a son.”

Anthony grinned, his chest filling with pride “I sure do, Edmund Tharman Bridgerton. He’s nearly ten months old, and we’re pretty sure he’s gonna start walking soon. I’m so fucking excited.”

Anthony client scoffed. Winking at him, “Oh sure Man. Yeah, you’re a family guy when your girl’s looking. I get it.”

Anthony’s teeth clenched, “I’m a family guy when she’s not looking as well. I’m sure I was a fucking arsehole when we met, but she chose me and I’m thankful every fucking day that she actually saw me. I love being a partner, I love being a dad. Have fun this weekend though. Sounds like a real blast.”

The man just stared back at him for a long moment before he sighed, “You two married?”

Anthony nodded, feeling himself smile again despite himself, “We just got married last month. Asked her to marry me the day our son was born. Best day of my fucking life.”

“You almost make me want to try it.”

Anthony shrugged, “I’m sure it’s not for everyone, I never thought it’d be for me, Honestly.”

“What happened then?”

“I met the right person, makes all the difference.”

[munson-blurbs]

hi bug! congratulations again on being un-glitched! I loooooved the headcanons you wrote last night about eddie and his hippie vegan girlfriend. I would LOVE to hear more about their first meeting outside the record shop, if you feel inspired to write more abt these two! you built such a fun lil world for the two of them, i just can't get enough! 💖

Anything for you, bb <3

For the purposes of historical accuracy, this takes place in 1991. Eddie + reader are 24.

WC: 647

--

Eddie had just planned to spend his Saturdays like he normally did: scouring the record store for any new releases. He loved finding underground bands that weren't really popular yet, playing their music while he worked at the auto shop during the week.

He wasn't expecting a small gathering of protesters to greet him outside, the leader of which was a really, really pretty girl.

"What's going on out there?" Eddie asks Hal, the manager, once he makes his way into the store.

"Protesting the Gulf War," Hal says. "They asked if they could use the parking lot, and I wasn't about to say no to that cause." Hal was a total hippie at heart; anti-establishment, constantly stoned, wearing tie-dye, and plastering peace signs around his office. "'Sides, we don't have anything big coming in this weekend."

Eddie nods; he'd overheard updates about the war on the radio, but had no idea that people in Hawkins were protesting it. It was more of a "shoot first, ask questions later" rather than a "make love, not war" kind of town.

"And, uh, the girl out there? In the front?" He tries to sound nonchalant as he asks, drumming his fingers on the countertop.

Hal laughs knowingly. "She's a cutie, isn't she?" he winks. "Don't know too much about her, but she seems like your type--stubborn with a heart of gold."

That's all Eddie needs to hear; he's out the door and standing alongside you before Hal can even process that he's gone.

"Hey," he greets you, taking a hand out of his pocket to shake yours. "I'm Eddie. You got any more of these signs?"

"Y/N," you reply, smiling at the lovestruck metalhead. "There should be some in that box back there," you tell him, motioning behind you.

Eddie chooses one that says "Fuck Your War" in big block letters. "Short, sweet, and to the point, huh?" he whispers to you, and he swells with pride when you laugh.

He spends the next hour chanting various anti-war sentiments. When a middle-aged man gets in your face, screaming about how Bush is the best president this country's ever seen, Eddie steps between you and him and pushes the guy away.

"Who the fuck does he think he is? Bet he wouldn't try that shit if you weren't young and cute."

You wrinkle your nose. "I'm not cute," you challenge, "I am very scary."

Eddie holds up his hands in surrender. "You're right, you're right. I'm terrified right now."

"Too late," you pout, feigning offense. "You have hurt my feelings beyond repair."

"Beyond repair?" Eddie chuckles. "There's nothing I can do to fix it?"

"Nope."

"What about if I take you out for pizza?" he asks hopefully. "In my experience, pizza heals all wounds."

"Actually," you tell him, bracing yourself for an onslaught of insults, "I'm vegan. So unless you find a pizzeria that doesn't serve cheese..."

His brow furrows in confusion. "Wait, you've never had sex?" he blurts out. "What does that have to do with pizza?"

You burst out laughing; you can't help it. "A vegan, Eddie, not a virgin. I am most definitely not one of those." He blushes at your honesty. "I don't eat any animal products. No meat, no dairy, no eggs."

"Oh," he nods slowly. "So what can you eat?"

"Pretty much anything else!" you say cheerfully. "There's actually a really good vegetarian restaurant that opened a few months ago. They have the best veggie burgers I've ever tasted, and their fries are incredible."

"So let's go there," he decides, and without thinking, he takes your hand in his. "Right after we finish up here, yeah?"

"I'd like that," you say, beaming at him. He looks at you and smiles right back.

She's like my little hippie princess, he thinks, though it'll be a few more dates until he actually calls you that.

--

[house-of-slayterr]

I AM NOT GOING TO PLAY MR. NICE GUY ANYMORE. Give me the URL of your beau. There is a limit to my patience and THIS IS IT. YOU ARE ACTING BELLIGERENTLY AND STUPIDLY. FIRST UNNECESSARILY EXPOSING YOUR HEALTH AT THE HOSPITAL NOW YOU ARE BATTERED AND BRUISED. WHY MUST YOU MAKE ALL THE SACRIFICES?! THIS BOYFRIEND OF YOURS IS PUTTING YOU THROUGH TOO MUCH. Where can I find him. Show me now.

I promise it’s not that bad, I know how to handle myself, everyone gets hurt or makes compromises sometimes. He does a lot in return for me too, and I love him very very much.

He’s just simply more sick than I am at the moment, and as the more able bodies partner I’m willing to chip in and help a little bit more. If the tables were flipped, he’s be doing the same things for me. He’s cried so many times this week about feeling bad about me having to do so much extra. But I know it’s not a forever thing, just until his blood infection clears and he’s back to his normal, helpfully, energetic self!

He rarely checks tumblr unless I tag him in something because it’s not really his thing. But if you really want to make sure I’m safe and talk to him, I won’t stop you. Just please don’t approach with so much anger as if he’s done something wrong, when he hasn’t. He loves me very much, and he spoils me with kindness and affection and handmade gifts everyday.

He understand there will be times when I can’t do things because of my health, and he wouldn’t fault me for that either. I’m still planning on getting my new Discord server set up so all my friends and family can meet and chat and get to know each other. Maybe he won’t seem so bad once you actually get to talk to him and understand him as a person. He’s been one of my best friends for over 4 years now, and I trust him with my life.

I promise I’m safe here. If I needed to do something for my physical or mental health, not only would I have his full support, no questions asked, I have his mama and baba to back me up to. Everybody in the house just wants to keep me safe, happy and healthy. My clumsiness is my own fault and nobodies leases. I’m just a clumsy kind of person. I’ve dislocated and sprained more joints than I can count on my hands. That has nothing to do with him. He even scolded me for moving too fast and forced me to sit down. And he helps me ice/massage/warp it everyday until it’s fully healed.

He’s a really good person, but every relationship Comes with compromises. I don’t consider taking care of my partner when I can, a sacrifice.

Je t'aime très fort papa, de tout mon cœur. mais s'il vous plaît, donnez-lui une chance d'abord?

You didn’t have the full context of that post, so I don’t blame your for worrying. And I’ve been so busy that first month I had hardly any time to even update my family up in Michigan. Which is why this weekend I’m really hyper focussing on making my new server and Facebook so I can do mass updates for basic life updates and Dm everyone individually for more personal updates.

I promise I wasn’t blowing anyone off or trying to ignore anyone. But I’ve had to find new doctors, learn my way around, help take care of the house that I now live in, that I’m so grateful to have. And I’ve been job hunting, trying to find a way to go back to school. All those things take up a lot of time and energy. But now that a bulk is out of the way, I can slow down and relax a bit. I have so many fun activities coming up that I can’t wait to share with you papa! Like working at an LGBT summer camp, or my first pride event at Disney world!!!

I’ll have a lot more time to just chat and hang out and have fun with all the people who are important to me. And you ARE one of them. 🫀

My Best friend from Michigan, my father and my sister, have all met him and his family and think this is the best choice I’ve made for myself. Even my therapist thinks I’m doing great right now and is proud of me. I moved down here for me first and foremost, for my physical and mental health. My boyfriend being here, and not having to pay rent cause we live with mama right now, are just great bonus.

My life was going nowhere up in Michigan and my doctors where just gonna sit around and wait for me to die. So I did something about that, and I took intuitive and Wendy where I can get help. So while I understand your concern and worry, and possible anger from misunderstandings, everything down here is on the up and up right now. That first might as tough, but we pushed through and things will improve! I have faith in this, so I would approcote if everyone else could to. Skepticism is listen to and taken into account when warranted, but maybe get to know him first before you judge. 🥰

Sorry for the long reply, but a short response didn’t seem appropriate.

[sanctum-of-ramshackle]

Life as a form-changing Master of the Mystic Arts

[Synopsis]: Just an Eldritch Master and their gender identities.

[(A/N)]: 🏳️‍🌈Happy Pride Month, everyone!!!🏳️‍🌈 Sorry I didn’t post this sooner. I was trying to create something for this month’s important celebration.

[(A/N #2)]: I hope I didn’t offend others who are part of the LGBT+ Community for this post as my TWST MC OC is both Omnisexual and Gender-fluid. The actual reason why I created this OC is the Disney: Twisted Wonderland game has no specific gender of the MC as it’s not a Otome Game, it’s an adventure type game and it can be played by anyone (Male, Female, Nonbinary, etc). So I thought it would be cool to have an MC/Yuu on this blog who would be someone that represents everybody in the both the TWST community and LGBTQA+ community. No matter who the players are as long as they’re having fun and interacting with their favorite characters without any harm in the way. I hope you readers enjoy this piece of writing and if you want to learn more about Miyeon Choi, here is a link to their bio.

[Monstro Lounge]

Azul: Miyeon, those are quite beautiful accessories you’re wearing.

[Reference Images]

Omnisexual Pin

Gender-fluid

Miyeon: Oh, thanks. I got these pins since it represents of who I am and my sexuality. There’s actually a month celebrating the LGBT+ community back in my world. I appreciate you guys for respecting my well-being as I’m not quite sure there’s a month that is celebrated in Twisted Wonderland.

Azul: Actually there is a month for the celebration here.

[(A/N): Let’s just say Pride Month also exists in Twisted Wonderland. Unless someone tells me otherwise.]

Miyeon: Really? Wait a minute. Are there big corporations that also take advantages of the celebration by promoting their brands as “LGBT+ friendly” for capitalism purposes? It happens back in my world every time.

Azul: Is that so? That’s quite unfortunate.

Miyeon: Azul, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking, it’s like an insult for everyone who actually cares.

Azul: Oh no. I would never commence such disadvantage for only a month. Who do you think I am?

Miyeon: Not a Pride-phobic octo-businessman.

Azul: Exactly. However, I will be promoting a limited special menus dedicated to Pride Month.

Miyeon: Of course.

[Eldritch 101]

Deuce: I see you changed your form again. What are your pronouns this time?

Minjun: He/Him or They/Them. I’m fine with both sets.

Deuce: Oh okay.

[Hours later]

Mi-rae: They/Them now.

Deuce: Oh, got it.

[Savanaclaw]

Random Savanaclaw Student: Why does Leona hang with that professor? She’s nothing but trouble whenever we rough-house.

Jack: *Interrupts the student* They’re going by Mi-rae now and their pronouns are They/Them.

Random Savanaclaw Student: Oh, sorry. I mean they’re nothing but trouble whenever we rough-house.

[Diasomnia]

Miyeon: My male form is based on an idol of my favorite boy group and my androgynous form was an idea from a Norse god who almost destroyed New York back in my world. I’m not proud of what they did at the time but he taught me some tricks to be able to hold up the illusions, fooling bad people. You could say I appreciate their lessons and even taught me to love myself and my identities.

Lilia: That’s lovely, dear. Though are you not sparring with Sebek?

Miyeon: I casted an illusion that he’s a baby crocodile being hunted by a Croc-killer. That should keep his adrenaline going.

Lilia: Oh. Such imagination.

Miyeon: He almost busted my eardrums boasting about how great Malleus is.

[In the background is Sebek screaming and running away from Silver for his life.]

Lilia: Should you lift up the illusion by now?

Miyeon: Five more minutes.

[NRC Campus]

[The Eldritch Master and anyone staying by them were fighting against another Overblot.]

Epel: MI-RAE! WATCH OUT!!!

Minjun: *Thrown off and crashes into the campus fountain* It’s Minjun!

Epel: Sorry!

[Staff Lounge]

Miyeon: So any plans for the weekend?

Crewel: The same as usual. What about your plans?

Miyeon: Attending the Pride Festival some of my students mentioned during class. Every year a family member of mine would come with me to show support and love during that time. Too bad things would be different as I’m stuck here until I find a way back home. *Sighs* I miss them…

Crewel: *Felt a “little” sorry* I’m coming with you.

Miyeon: What?

Crewel: You heard me. I’ll accompany you to the festival since you said a family member always come to show support. Since you view me as an older sibling figure, I count as one.

Miyeon: Aww Crewel…

Trein: You know he would only come to judge everyone’s fashion choices.

Miyeon: I know, but it’s still sweet for my brother figure/colleague.

✨Reblogs and comments help creators💫

[1kook]

commercial break: twelve

this is part of my netflix & chill series a prelude to part 10 <3

SUMMARY Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.  WARNING none !! we r safe MISC jk and doyeon mortal enemies, nearly everyone is mentioned, thank u namjoon, jk loves oc, the end <3 jimin makes his first appearance O_O WC 1.4k

NOTES we just having fun with it!!! jk’s friendship with everyone else <3

Doyeon says you have fat fingers, and Jungkook takes great offense at that. “Who cares about the size— __ has pretty hands, idiot,” he mutters, and almost wants to feel bad about being so childish in the middle of this jewelry store. But Kim Doyeon is a pest— a fly who just won’t stop buzzing by his ear with each ring they look at, and she has the audacity to look disgusted with him now. Jungkook very much regrets inviting her along. She exudes very similar energy to the popular girls he used to go to high school, the ones that would only talk to him because he was friends with Namjoon and wanted Jungkook to help them into his pants. Lo and behold, Kim Doyeon is very acquainted with whatever’s inside Namjoon’s pants. She hits the mark perfectly. 

“Oh, definitely get her a rock. Like, one of those obnoxiously bing and shiny rings, maybe?” And she never stops talking. 

Jungkook hasn’t had to spend this much time with her in months, the last time being Namjoon’s birthday when you had tasked the two of them to go pick up the cake together. Not only was Doyeon adamant on passenger-seat driving — “Turn here,” she says a moment too late, “no wait, here — but she had been an absolute heathen outside in the bakery parking lot. 

(“Okay, now take a picture of me by this wall,” she says, artfully holding up the box of cake in two hands, dark hair flipped over her shoulder. Jungkook doesn’t know how to tell her that there is no significant difference between this brick wall and the brick wall they just took a picture by two minutes before.)

Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. It would be him and Namjoon, and maybe Namjoon’s blunt roommate Jimin if he was feeling down for it, but that was pretty much it. Even Taehyung, a very close and dearly cherished friend, had not made the cut. He was too lazy, didn’t offer much concrete advice other than the occasional, “that one looks cool” comment. 

The great thing about Namjoon is that he’s highly educated on just about every aspect of life; he knows the best hairstylists — “You can always ask Hobi,” Namjoon offers, “he’s married.” — and the best lawyers — “Oh, and Yoongi can help with your prenup.” — for no reason other than the fact he is Namjoon. 

The bad thing about Namjoon is that he’s dead set on including Doyeon. “Doyeon is ___’s best friend,” he says calmly one night after dinner. You’re at your friend’s house this weekend, something about a midnight revenge plot against a shitty ex-boyfriend. He isn’t too clear on the details. “You have to let her in on it.” It’s been decades since Jungkook last stomped his foot in annoyance, but the urge wells up strongly in him now. 

Jimin is on the couch. “Oooh, you don’t like her?” he asks, flipping his platinum hair away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t answer, only because it would be rude to confirm it in front of Namjoon. Jimin presses on. “Is she, like, an evil best friend?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says at the same time Namjoon says, “no.” Jimin’s got this highly intrigued smirk on his face, and Jungkook hates how similar it is to your own mischievous grins. He’s glad you haven’t met Jimin, mostly because he knows you have your mean moments and meeting Park Jimin would only exacerbate them. Namjoon frowns anyway. 

Jimin says, “oh, you guys should duel. Like, whoever knows __ the best gets to keep her.” 

Namjoon jumps to stop that thought. “No— they’re not gonna duel, Jimin. ___ isn’t an object to win,” he scolds, and Jungkook nods along agreeingly, pretends he hadn’t seriously considered Jimin’s idea for a solid ten seconds. 

Long story short, Doyeon has tagged along to this jeweler and the past two jewelers to make sure Jungkook doesn’t give you “an ugly ring,” as she claims. 

“Wait, what if you get her this one,” she says, on the other side of the store. Jungkook sighs, but hurries over anyway. Hey, he’s here to see some rings, okay? 

Doyeon is looking at the most ugly ring Jungkook has ever seen, a mix of a braid and a snake, that is just too��� not you. “This is hideous,” he says, disregarding all and any notions of being polite because at this point, she had to be pulling his leg. “___ would hate this.” 

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “Oh, ‘cause you know ___ sooo well, don’t you?” she snarks. 

Jungkook levels her with a glare. “I do, actually,” he says, “that’s literally what made me want to marry her.” And because Kim Doyeon sparks a very immature flame within him, he feels the need to add, “I probably know ___ better than you,” to top it off. 

Doyeon scoffs. “No, you don’t— you will never know her like I do, you overgrown fungus,” she spits. “Me and ___ have exceeded any level of trust you could ever hope to have, a friendship forged on the grounds of love and equal values. A nerd like you can’t even begin to fathom the absolutely crazy shit we’ve shared with each other.” 

If he was eight years younger, Jungkook is certain he would have gone home and cried. Mid-twenties Jungkook, on the other hand, has had one too many rodeos with mean girls — he’s dating a retired high school cheerleader, for goodness sake, an apex predator if he’s ever seen one — and will not stand for it. Besides, Jungkook has received your blessing to check Doyeon into place if ever she crosses the line. 

(“Sometimes you just gotta knock her down, maybe call her a dumbass if necessary,” you had said one night after Doyeon had unceremoniously barged into your apartment to monopolize your evening plans with Jungkook. Now it’s nearing midnight and as much as Jungkook wants to spend time with you, he’s deathly tired. “Just tell her off.” 

Jungkook frowns, snuggles closer until he’s so tightly pressed against your body that he can’t tell whose heartbeat is whose. He likes it like that.

There’s just something about your annoying best friend that activates this feeling in Jungkook’s chest. If anything, Jungkook imagines it is similar to that of having a bratty little sister. But Doyeon as his sister? He rolls his eyes so far back he swears he sees his own brain. 

It’s childish and petty and unlike Jungkook — or at least, unlike the Jungkook he knows you think he is. Which is flattering, to be thought of so highly, but sometimes Jungkook wonders where on earth you got that idea from. Because whenever he’s around you, Jungkook becomes increasingly immature, grows so greedy and needy, desperate for anything you have to give him. 

And because he’s so immature, he settles on tattling to you instead, “she called me a sweaty meat bag,” to which you snort in amusement.) 

For now, he calls on the spirit of the most mature person he knows (Namjoon). Jungkook takes one last look at his millionth silver band of the day before turning to address the Wicked Witch of the West. “I might not know ___ like you do, but that’s fine,” he says calmly. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together anyway.” 

In front of him, Doyeon’s eye twitches and Jungkook senses he has won. For now. See, the thing is, Jungkook knows that using Namjoon-level logic against her is foolproof. For one, Namjoon’s logic is always solid. But also, as much as Jungkook despises Kim Doyeon with nearly every fiber in his being… ultimately, they share a common interest: cherishing you. 

Had it not been for your existence in their lives, Jungkook doubts he would have ever spent his Saturday morning at a jeweler with the likes of Kim Doyeon, especially not after she had spent ten minutes in the Starbucks drive-thru ordering the most bizarrely complicated drink. But deep in his heart Jungkook knows that she loves you, though not as much as him, and he respects the fact she is willing to accompany him in the name of buying you a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a friendship solidarity he admires, and for that he stomps down his childish pride to answer in a way that would impress, well, you. 

(Even when you’re not here, Jungkook always wants to impress you.)

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “I should’ve never taken ___ to that party.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr

[kpopfanfictrash]

L is for Lunacy (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Established Relationship / Light Angst / Fluff

<< A FOLLOW-UP ONE SHOT TO THE ART OF WAR MORE >>

Synopsis: After two years of being sworn enemies (and 42,000 words of shenanigans), you and Jungkook had finally begun dating. As it turned out though, dating wasn’t any easier than coming up with the perfect witty retort to wipe the smirk from his face. When you came to the first Big Decision of the relationship, it was honestly anyone’s guess as to how things would go.  

Warnings: handcuffs (male + female), oral (male + female), very explicit dirty talk, degradation, semi-public making out, spanking, condom-less sex, cum play, things get soft (except Jungkook’s dick). Seokjin randomly procures invitations to formal events; no one really knows how.

Word Count: 15,790

Author’s Note: In order for this to make the most sense, I would recommend reading The Art of War More first! Thank you :)

“One thousand bottles of Smirnoff on the wall, one thousand bottles of Smirnoff!” sang Seokjin, wildly off-key. “Take one down, ice someone with it, nine hundred and ninety-nine bottles of Smirnoff on the wall!”

As the bus jolted over a pothole, you were launched sideways to land on Jungkook’s thigh. His response was a grunt, steadying you with one hand – lingering longer than necessary on the small of your back.

When you looked at him, Jungkook wriggled both brows.

“Fine,” he sighed when you withdrew from his grasp. “Just know that my lap is always available seating.”

“For anyone?” Taehyung popped over the seat in front of you. “Or just for Y/N?”

Jungkook’s brow crinkled. “Why would you want to sit on my lap?”

“You have solid thighs.”

“He has a point,” you agreed.

Jungkook looked at Taehyung a moment, then you. “Only you on my lap, thanks. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me.”

Feigning outrage, Taehyung opened his mouth only for Seokjin to hit a high note at the back of the bus. All of you winced.

“How’d Seokjin get an invite to the hockey midseason banquet, anyways?” you wondered out loud. “He’s not even on the team.”

“I’ve long given up on asking pointless questions like that,” Jungkook said. “Seokjin’s going to go where he wants to go.”

“I guess.” You paused and then shrugged. “At least he decided to bring Gina as his date. Now we can all hang out together!”

Jungkook made a non-committal sound. “Is Gina still hooking up with Hobi? Surprised he was cool with her being Seokjin’s date.”

“No. That kind of fizzled,” you said, disappointed. “I don’t think he was ready for the whole boyfriend thing. Gina’s been kind of bummed, so hopefully tonight’s a good distraction.”

“Good thing distraction is Seokjin’s middle name.” Jungkook grinned. “Plus, I hear this hotel’s amazing. The banquet is being held on the fiftieth floor with this amazing view of the lake.”

Horrified, you stared. “Fiftieth floor? Sounds dangerous.”

“It’s all enclosed, babe.”

“Still. I wouldn’t put it past Taehyung to fall out.”

Taehyung popped back up over the seat. “You rang?” When Seokjin hit another high note, Taehyung winced and threw a crumpled-up tissue in his direction. “I swear to god, Jin!” he yelled. “If you sing one more annoying verse, the next tissue I throw won’t be clean!”

Seokjin immediately shut up, much to Gina’s laughter beside him.

Taehyung returned to you and Jungkook. “Anyways. What’d you say?”

“My girlfriend thinks you’re going to fall out of a window tonight,” Jungkook said cheerily. “Bets for or against?”

“Hm.” Taehyung considered. “I mean, it’s in my best interest to bet against me falling out, but what’re the odds?”

“Taehyung,” you laughed, reaching up to smack his arm. “Stop.”

“You didn’t say which window!” He shot you a grin. “I could just tumble from the first floor and make a fortune.”

“Well, now we know your plan,” Jungkook pointed out. “So, that’s out.”

Before Taehyung could respond, Gina plopped down in the seat across the aisle from you. Stretching both legs, she lifted her arms overhead.

“Hey, guys,” she yawned. “How much longer until we reach the hotel? I’m beat.”

“Half an hour. And maybe you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t stayed up until 4:00 AM…” You gave her a pointed look.

“I had to! I was studying.”

“Oh?” You arched a brow. “And what about after that? When you were just re-watching old episodes of The Vampire Diaries?”

“Y/N.” Gina looked at you, appalled. “You can’t just end things right when Klaus shows up in Alaric’s body. I’m not a monster.”

“Clearly.”

With another large yawn, Gina settled into her seat. “What’s the plan for tonight, anyways? Do I have time to take a quick nap?”

“Depends on how long your naps are,” said Jungkook, leaning over. “We’re supposed to reach the hotel at 4:00 PM, check in and then have until 6:00 PM to get ready, which is when the banquet starts. You could probably sneak a nap in there.”

Grinning, you turned. “Look at you,” you cooed, poking his cheek. “Memorizing the schedule and everything.”

Jungkook’s cheeks turned faintly pink, but he seemed pleased with the praise.

“Aw.” Gina made a face. “Gross. Anyways,” she said, turning to Taehyung. “Where’s your date?”

Reluctantly, Namjoon popped his head over the seat. “Hey.”

When he appeared, Gina cracked up. “Wait – you’re Tae’s date? Hope you put out. I hear that’s expected at these things.”

“Really?” Taehyung arched a brow. “So, are you and Seokjin planning on doing the nasty?”

Gina made another face. “Don’t be revolting, Tae.”

“Huh?” Namjoon looked around in alarm. “What’re you talking about?”

“Bad timing,” Jungkook laughed. “Gina had just finished asking who Tae’s date was.”

“He came with Maria.” Namjoon pointed at the back of the bus. “She’s back there somewhere with Nichole.”

Gina glanced in the direction he pointed. “And how are you invited to hockey formal?” she asked, turning back. “Aren’t you like, afraid of sports, or something?”

Namjoon looked somewhat offended. “I’m not afraid of sports. I’m a student athletic manager! I have a place at this banquet, which is more than I can say about you and Seokjin. How’d you two get here?”

As they started arguing, you felt Jungkook stiffen beside you. Namjoon wasn’t the only student athletic manager for the men’s hockey team. Last year it was a guy named Luis, but he recently transferred to women’s soccer, sticking hockey with a new face. 

A familiar face. Park Jimin.

You happened to see him when you first boarded, settling the question of whether or not he would go. He had decided to go; he was here.

It had been almost three months since you’d found out about Jimin’s lie. Back in freshman year, you and Jungkook had flirted and made plans to hang out at a party one weekend. Jungkook had to bail and asked Jimin to tell you – which he then didn’t. The resulting spiral of miscommunication resulted in you and Jungkook being enemies for almost two years.

Obviously, it wasn’t entirely Jimin’s fault. At any point, you and Jungkook could’ve gotten over your pride and just talked to each other and cleared up the whole thing. Neither one of you did though, which let the dumb feud continue – it was Jimin’s lie which started it though, and that was a hard thing to forget.

It was also something you had yet to talk to Jimin about. When word went around campus that you and Jungkook had started dating, it could’ve been your imagination, but you saw less of Jimin after that. It seemed pretty clear he had been avoiding you.

He had seated himself as far away from you and Jungkook as possible; all the way at the back, where Seokjin was taken a seat. Based on his uncomfortable posture beside his date, you got the feeling Jimin was having second thoughts about coming.

Squeezing Jungkook’s thigh, you waited until he turned his head. Even if Jimin was here, you weren’t going to let him ruin your weekend.

“We ended up together,” you murmured, only loud enough for him to hear. Resting your head on his shoulder, you sighed. “It really doesn’t matter.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I just… get so annoyed when I see him. If it weren’t for his lie, I could’ve been with you this whole time.”

“Maybe.”

Jungkook blinked. “Maybe?”

“Maybe,” you repeated, glancing up. “Or – maybe we would’ve both argued over something dumb and because we were young and immature, we would’ve broken up.”

Jungkook bit his lip. “But we’re still young and immature.”

“Touché. I’m just saying things happen the way they do a reason,” you added. “Or maybe they don’t, but you can’t change the past. What’s important is we’re together now.”

“I guess.”

Reaching for his hand, you entwined your fingers. “And more importantly – if you don’t stop sulking, you won’t get your present later.”

Jungkook perked up. “Present? You got me a gift?”

“Maybe. If you keep asking what it is though, you won’t get it.”

Mouth snapping shut, Jungkook stared out the window and you began to count down in your head. 5, 4, 3, 2 –

“So, is this present in addition to my Christmas gift?”

Bursting into laughter, you smacked his arm. “It’s just a fun gift, okay? You’ll see later tonight. Gosh, can’t a girl spoil her boyfriend?”

Jungkook’s gaze darkened, caught on a singular word. “A gift for tonight, tonight? Or for the banquet?”

“We’ll see,” you said smugly, sitting back.

“Y/N…”

His voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down your spine which you pointedly ignored. Turning away, you faced towards the aisle.

“You could always take a nap now, Gina,” you offered. “Before we reach the hotel.”

“And have Seokjin take pictures of me drooling with my mouth open? No thanks,” Gina sniffed.

She was right. Seokjin would do that.

Taehyung popped back up over his seat. “Are you and Seokjin sharing a room?” he asked, curious.

“What’s with your weird, pervy interest in Seokjin and I? Unfortunately, yes,” Gina sighed, slouched low in her seat. “I’m too poor to afford the single room rate.”

Seokjin finally appeared over the seat back behind you. It seemed he had managed to convince Parnce to switch seats – something he’d been texting about in the group chat since you boarded over an hour ago.

“Hey!” he blurted, offended. “I’m a delightful roommate, I’ll have you know. I leave chocolates on the pillow and everything.”

“Seokjin, it’s a hotel,” you pointed on. “They already leave chocolates on the pillows.

“Shhh,” Seokjin said. “I’m trying to impress a date here.”

Gina threw her scarf at Seokjin’s head. “I’m only your date because no one else agreed to go!”

“That’s not true!” 

“Is so!”

“I mean, it’s kind of true,” Seokjin fake whispered to you, as though Gina couldn’t hear. “Allison and Elaine found out about each other.”

“Well, why did you keep them a secret?” you huffed. “No wonder you’re alone if you pull douchebag shit like that.”

“I didn’t keep them a secret!” Seokjin protested. “I told them both we weren’t exclusive, but…” Trailing off, he sighed. “What can I say? The ladies always want more.”

Another wadded up tissue hit Seokjin square in the face.

“Thanks, Tae!” Gina flopped back in her seat.

“There’s more where that came from,” Taehyung said, sitting down.

Seokjin stared in horror at the tissue on the floor. 

“Hey! That... that one wasn’t used, was it?”

Sliding her sunglasses onto her nose, Gina pretending to sleep as the bus descended back into chaos. 

Reaching out, Jungkook poked you in the side. “Seriously,” he whispered. “What’s my present?”

“Oh, would you look at that?” you said, sitting up straight. “There’s the hotel!”

Although Jungkook pouted, he allowed the conversation to be redirected and even helped gather your things off the bus.

As soon as you entered the revolving doors, you were immediately met with a blast of warmth from the lobby. You sighed in relief – and then came to a stop. Based on the lobby alone, this banquet was going to be fancy as fuck.

Jungkook had explained what the purpose of this banquet was once or twice, but you weren’t really listening at the time. Apparently the hockey team had a midseason and an end of season banquet. The midseason one tended to fall during their time off around finals, since it was one of the few times during on season when the players could drink.

“Whoa,” Seokjin breathed, coming to a stop alongside you. “I definitely didn’t pack nice enough underwear for this place.”

“Underwear?” Gina looked up in alarm. “Nobody’s going to be seeing your underwear this weekend, Seokjin. Except maybe the mirror.”

“I’ll know though,” he said. “Deep down, I’ll know I’m wearing cotton boxer-briefs instead of silk, like I should.”

Jungkook turned to face you. “Is that the present? Did you get me silk underwear?”

“No.”

“Did you get you silk underwear?”

“Still nope.”

“Huh.” Slightly deflated, Jungkook began to walk towards check-in. “I’m becoming less interested in what this present is.”

“Hey!” you laughed, punching his arm.

Check-in in was luckily fast – the hotel had set people aside for your group and before you knew it, you were loaded onto an elevator and pressing the button for the twentieth floor. Even though it wasn’t as high as fifty, you still warily eyed the panel.

“What?” Jungkook set his bag on the floor.

“Nothing.” You paused. “The windows all lock, right?”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m just saying! If Taehyung really fell from the twentieth floor, he would die.”

“Well, I guess Taehyung will just have to stay out of our bedroom, huh?”

Jungkook arched a brow when he spoke, gaze dark with something which made your skin tingle. Suddenly, the long hours of banquet ahead seemed like too much. It was fairly tempting for you to skip the whole thing and spend it in your hotel room with Jungkook. In bed.

The elevator dinged to announce your floor.

“This is us,” Jungkook said, grabbing your suitcase.

Slinging his duffel bag over one shoulder, Jungkook wheeled your suitcase out of the elevator. Your room was all the way at the end of the hall, past the ice machine and neon red exit sign. Dubiously, you glanced at this as you passed.

“If there were an actual emergency,” you said, slipping both arms around his waist to rest your head on his back. “Those stairs would be a death trap.”

“Hopefully there’s no emergency, then.” Jungkook pushed open the door. “Here we are.”

As you glanced over his shoulder, you froze. 

“Holy shit.”

Wandering forward, Jungkook set his bag on the floor. “What?” he asked, turning around. “Is there something wrong?”

Staring at the room, you somehow managed to close the door behind you. 

The space was airy, light and gorgeous. The décor was simple in that way which made you absolutely certain each item cost more than the entirety of your suitcase. Fluffy, white pillows were piled on a bed with an actual metal latticed headboard. Gauzy curtains covered the windows, and –

“Champagne?” you blurted, rushing forward. As you passed the front hall, you caught a glimpse of the closet. “And oh my god – robes. Robes, Jungkook! Plural!”

He grinned, watching you run about the room in excitement. “So, you like it?”

“Like it?” You came to a sudden stop, crystal champagne glass in hand. Realizing something, you frowned. “Wait, Jungkook. How the fuck did you afford this?”

“I came into some money overnight.”

“Sounds ominous.”

Jungkook grinned. “Actually, Seokjin’s Uncle got us a room as a favor. There’s no way I could’ve afforded this.”

Setting the champagne glass on the table, you scanned the room as you crossed to his side. “Not yet,” you teased. “Not until you make it big in the NHL. Then you’ll be able to afford all the presents for me!”

A shadow crossed Jungkook’s expression, gone before you could determine its source. He laughed, turning around and bent to unzip your suitcase. Lunging forward, you grabbed for his hand. 

“No peeking!” you scolded.

Jungkook froze and looked at you innocently. “Whoops.”

“Don’t ‘whoops’ me,” you said, slapping his wrist. Huffing, you pushed your suitcase into a corner. “You’ll get your present later. We’ve got to get ready for the banquet now.”

“That’s not for hours,” Jungkook whined, flopping down on the bed.

As soon as his ass hit the sheets, his t-shirt rode up to reveal a flat strip of abs. Momentarily distracted, you stared before you shook yourself free.

“Nice try, Jeon!” Spinning around on your heel, you entered the bathroom. This obviously prompted a new round of exclamations. (“Oh my god, there’s a heat rack for the towels!”)

An hour later, you were putting the finishing touches on your make-up while Jungkook changed in the next room. Taehyung had texted fifteen minutes prior and invited everyone to drinks in the lobby. Reading his text had made you laugh, since it made you all sound so grown-up and formal.

The entire event made you feel this way – as though you and Jungkook were two kids playing dress up. College was such a weird time. On the one hand, you lived on your own and were forced to make decisions about your future and on the other, you had barely reached legal drinking age.

College was a strange limbo of job interviews and beer pong in the same twenty-four-hour period. This, though – fixing your make-up while Jungkook changed in the next room – felt scarily adult.

Although you had only been dating for months, you could already see this becoming reality. The realization was startling, making you stare at yourself in the mirror.

“Hey, babe?” Jungkook called from the next room.

“Uh, yeah?”

Somewhat dazed, you screwed the cap on your mascara.

“When are you going to be done? I need to go to the bathroom.”

Sliding your make-up bag off the sink, you gave a final pat to your hair in the lights. Inspecting your face one final time, you turned in your robe and walked from the room.

“Coming!” 

The moment you exited the bathroom, you stopped in your tracks.

Jungkook had already gotten dressed and stood beside the window to survey the city. His hair was parted on one side, slightly slicked back with several loose strands hanging about his face. He was dressed in a suit – grey with a black shirt, and by far the fanciest outfit you’d ever seen him in.

Swallowing, you stood there for a moment while you eye-fucked your boyfriend.

Still facing the window, the corner of his mouth lifted. “Are you going to stand there watching me all night?”

“No,” you said loftily, entering the room. “I’m going to get dressed so we can go to the banquet, come back to this room and I can rip that suit off you.”

Jungkook turned, slightly dazed. “Fuck. Yes. That.”

He walked towards you, pausing his stride to brush a chaste kiss to your temple. Grabbing his lapel, you turned him towards you to press a kiss on his lips. Jungkook smiled, melting forward but before you take it any further, he pulled back.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he laughed, squeezing your waist before walking away. “If you kiss me like that, I won’t stop. And then I’ll definitely mess up your hair and we’ll never make it to the restaurant on time.”

Stepping into the bathroom, he shut the door.

You grinned, wandering further into the bedroom. Your dress still hung in the closet; you’d placed it there upon arrival. Thankfully, it didn’t wrinkle too much on the drive here.

“What if that’s what I want?” you called to him through the door. “We can skip the formal, stay here and just have sex.”

Jungkook remained quiet. He hated talking while either one of you was on the toilet – it was a whole thing with him, which resulted in your merciless teasing.

Slipping your dress from its hanger, you moved towards the mirror. "I'll take that as a yes, Jeon!" you said, glancing around for your shoes. "Stay silent if you want to skip the formal, hang out here and have crazy bunny sex."

After a moment, the toilet flushed and the sound of the sink turned on. 

Jungkook yelled back, "What's crazy bunny sex?"

Plopping down on the bed, you set your dress on the duvet. "You know!" you huffed, feeling around when a phone vibrated. "Don't rabbits have like, a crazy high sex drive? Where'd the phrase 'doing it like rabbits' come from?"

"As interested as I am in whatever hybrid fanfic you've dreamt up, maybe–"

Although Jungkook continued to talk, the sound of it faded when you unearthed his cell phone. A name flashed on the screen – BOB SUTHERLAND, which would've meant nothing to you except for the text message.

Hey, Jungkook! Thanks for finally returning my calls. There are a few NHL teams looking for a second-string center and–

The rest of the message was cut off, but it was enough for you to understand. You recognized the name Bob Sutherland. He was a recruiter for the NHL and a damn good one, if Taehyung's word was anything to go by. The fact that he wanted to scout Jungkook didn't surprise you, but it was surprising to hear Jungkook had returned his calls.

Staring at your phone, your heart began to beat a bit faster. Jungkook didn't want to go into the NHL now – did he?

The NHL, or the National Hockey League, was the end game for any hockey player. It was a mixed bag if players went into the league straight out of high school, played in lower leagues for a bit, or played in college until they got recruited. Even then, there were only so many good years an athlete had to play. It made sense for Jungkook to want to leave University for his dream job, but you hadn't thought it would happen so soon.

The sound of the bathroom door opening jerked you from your trance. Frantically tossing his phone to the bed, you grabbed your dress and stood to look around for your shoes.

Stepping into the hall, Jungkook smiled when he saw you. "Is that your dress?" he asked, spotting the fabric. "Are you gonna put it on? Can I watch?"

"I thought you said you didn't want to have sex," you said, forcing yourself to smile as you brushed past him.

"It's not that I don't want to have sex," he grumbled, fastening a cuff link. "It's just that if we did, there's no way in hell we'd make it on time."

Although you continued to smile, the contents of that text replayed in your mind. Exhaling lowly, you tried to push this aside. Jungkook would talk to you about it when he was ready. You couldn't fault him for being curious about graduating early. A lot of NHL and MLB players did it – it’s just, you had thought Jungkook wanted to finish his degree.

Shutting the bathroom door, you leaned your head to the wood and willed your thoughts to remain calm. It would be stupid to blow this out of proportion. You and Jungkook had only been dating for three months; it was too soon to expect him to tell you every little thing. Especially something so ambiguous as potential recruitment.

You two hadn't even said I love you to each other yet.

Jaw clenched, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Maybe that was why you were getting so worked up about this. It wasn't for lack of emotion you hadn't told Jungkook you loved him, but lack of courage. 

You did love him. You had for weeks, maybe months and maybe longer than that.

It was self-preservation that forced you to swallow the words each time Jungkook did something sweet, sexy or just plain adorable. For the number of times you had bitten your tongue over the past weeks, you were surprised you had a tongue left to speak with.

Still, you’d only told one other boyfriend you loved them and that hadn't ended so well. You and Jungkook had only been dating for three months. It was too soon to place that kind of pressure on him.

Especially not if he'd be leaving University at the end of this year.

Fear gripped your heart, forcing its way to your lungs while you willed yourself to breathe. You waited, taking deep breaths until the paralysis subsided. Numbly getting dressed, you tried several times before realizing the futility of your zipper.

Dropping your arms, you opened the door a crack.

"Jungkook?" 

"Yeah?"

It was probably your imagination, but he sounded far away. In more ways than one.

"Can you zip me up?" 

"Sure thing, babe."

As you walked from the bathroom, you held your dress with both hands so it wouldn't fall down. Jungkook's eyes widened as soon as he saw you, seated on the edge of the mattress with his broad thighs spread. 

His phone dropped from his grasp.

"Fuck," he breathed, staring hard.

The longer he looked, the more your face heated. Jungkook had a way of looking at you which set fire to your veins, which made you feel seen and wanted and heard. He exhaled, tongue darting out to touch the corner of his lips and almost imperceptibly, his hands tightened on the duvet.

"The zipper?" you reminded him, fighting back a smile.

"Right. Uh," he said, standing up from the bed. Immediately, he winced. "Um. Give me a second."

After another deep breath, Jungkook walked closer, but his gait remained awkward; concealing his boner.

"Are you sure you can dance like that, Jeon?" you teased as you turned around.

"No," he huffed, hands replacing yours on the dress. "Maybe if you could be a little less hot, that would be great."

"I'll try. Maybe if I put spinach in my teeth, or something."

"Nah. Even then, I'd still do you."

"Wow, that's l–" Clamping your lips shut, you stopped the l-word from escaping. "Um, that's lunacy, Jeon."

When he didn't immediately respond, you began to panic but then Jungkook chuckled, moving the zipper upwards.

"Done," he announced, stepping back.

Slowly, you turned. 

Jungkook's gaze darkened. 

Nervous, you smoothed both sides of your dress down. It had taken you a while to pick this one out; several trips to the mall with Gina and eventually, she’d been the one to make the final call. The dress was more revealing than what you usually wore, with a deep-cut neckline and mostly open back. It did wonders for your curves though, highlighting what Jungkook claimed to be his favorite assets.

Then again, Jungkook claimed that about every part of your body.

Still, the way he stared made you feel Gina had made the right choice.

"Whoa," he said hoarsely.

Laughing, you took his hand in yours and dragged him towards the door. "Come on. We're going to be late."

Playfully, Jungkook dug in his heels. 

"We can be a little late," he said, contradicting himself.

"Nope." Cheerful, you stepped into your heels at the door. "You're the one who said you couldn't control yourself if you kissed me."

Although Jungkook sighed, he grabbed the key and opened the door to the hall. You followed him outside, where Jungkook shoved his wallet in a pocket and gallantly offered his arm.

"M'lady."

"Jungkook," you sighed, accepting the gesture. "That line didn't work on me before. It's not going to work on me now."

"Wrong!" he said as you walked down the hall. "It did work. Now we’re dating, right? You're mine. In like, a romantic way. Not in a creepy, possessive one."

You laughed as the elevator doors opened and you stepped inside. Jungkook followed, refusing to let go of you all the way to the lobby. He wasn't being subtle about it, keeping a hand on your waist, his thigh pressed to yours, his fingers drifting lazily over the curve of your back.

His fondness for touch usually made you feel wanted, but now you couldn't help but wonder if there was something else to it. Maybe the reason he wanted to be so close was because he knew he was leaving at the end of the year.

Stomach sinking, you told yourself to stop it. Jungkook hadn't made any decisions and you were sure he’d talk to you before he did. 

Or – you thought that he would.

Anxiety remained even once the doors opened and you entered the lobby. It refused to lessen throughout the entirety of pre-dinner drinks and even as you rode towards the banquet in the elevator, you found yourself in the back, quieter than normal.

Apparently this was noticeable enough for Gina to pull you aside as you entered, shooing Seokjin away with instructions to find them good seats.

"What's wrong?" she asked, tugging you behind a plant.

"Nothing!" you insisted.

Gina gave you a look.

She was dressed in a slinky red number tonight. You had picked it out right after she made the final decision on yours. Had Gina been allowed to choose, she would've worn the same t-shirt and jeans she always did. You had thought it would be funny to see her in something so sexy, but like everything else, Gina pulled it off effortlessly.

Based on the way people were staring, including her date, you knew you had made the right choice.

She narrowed her eyes. "Something's up," Gina said. "Normally, Seokjin's impression of Christopher Walken cracks you up – god knows why – but today, it didn't even make you crack a smile. What's going on?"

"It's nothing," you insisted, glancing around the room. Jungkook had paused at your table, scanning the crowd to see where you were. "Gina, we really should get–"

"Is it lover boy over there?"

Alarmed, you met her gaze. "Gina!” You dropped your voice. “I told you we hadn't said that yet."

"Oh, please." Gina rolled her eyes. "Boy is so whipped for you, it isn't even funny. He probably just doesn’t want to say it too fast and scare you off. Remember how long it took you to admit that you liked each other? This is the same. You're both playing emotional chicken."

Unable to stop yourself, you snorted. "Emotional chicken? Maybe, but…” Hesitant, you glanced around the floor. “Gina, what if he went into the NHL this year?"

Gina paused. "This year?"

"I mean... a lot of players do. There's only so long you can play hockey professionally."

"That’d make it harder to date for sure. Where’s this coming from, Y/N?"

"Nowhere," you said. "Just something I've been thinking. It would make it harder to date, right?"

"I guess. But so what?"

"I… huh?"

"So what?" she repeated. "Even if Jungkook does leave at the end of this year, how does that change the fact that you love him?"

Having no response to this, you stayed quiet.

Gina reached for your hand. "I'm just saying," she said, a bit gentler. "There’s always a million reasons it might not work out. All you can control is what you do now and how honest you are. Starting with... oh, I don't know... telling your boyfriend how much you love that flat ass of his."

"It's not as flat anymore!" you blurted, defensive. "He's been doing squats."

"Yeah, whatever." Grinning, Gina pulled you from behind the plant. "We should probably get back before Seokjin grabs the mic to sing Tiny Dancer. Just promise me you'll think about telling him?"

"Okay, I'll think about it," you sighed, following her towards the tables.

Spotting you from across the room, Jungkook grinned and waved a hand overhead. Seeing his face, a familiar rush of butterflies appeared. Except it wasn't just butterflies anymore; now there was a whole goddamn symphony and from the moment you saw him, you knew Gina was right.

You should tell him you loved him.

Maybe not now, though because as you approached your table, a familiar silhouette appeared by your side.

"Y/N?" Jimin said, sounding tentative.

Feet faltering, you came to a stop. 

Even from across the room, you could see Jungkook's gaze darken. Jimin stepped between you though, blocking your way to the table. Somewhat reluctantly, you waved Gina on.

"Go on," you said with a sigh. "Tell Jungkook I want the steak."

Gina nodded once, glared at Jimin, and continued walking towards Seokjin. She knew you could handle being alone with him.

Jimin waited until she was out of earshot before speaking. 

"Hi."

"Hey, Jimin."

Nervous, he swallowed. "Um, you look nice tonight. I mean you always look–"

"Jimin," you interrupted, folding your arms over your chest. "Get to the point."

"Right." He gave you an uncertain look. "I just wanted to... apologize."

"Apologize for what?"

Somehow, you managed to keep your expression neutral.

Glancing over his shoulder, Jimin saw Jungkook staring. He sighed and turned back. "For what I did freshman year."

"And what did you do freshman year?"

"Wow." Jimin gave you a half-smile. "You really aren't going to make this easy on me, huh?"

"No," you responded. "I don't think I will."

Something serious, almost sad entered Jimin’s gaze and he nodded. "Right. I guess I deserve that. I wanted to apologize for lying to you freshman year. I should've told you what really happened to Jungkook."

"You should have.”

"I know." Jimin bit down on his lip. "It's just that... I really liked you. And you seemed to like me back, so I thought it would be easier if Jungkook was out of the picture...." He trailed off, looking miserable. "It was stupid, I know."

Some of your anger lessened at his expression. He truly did seem as though he was sorry and while that didn’t change what had happened, it didn’t seem worthwhile to hold onto something so petty.

You hesitated. "It wasn't... stupid, exactly."

It wasn’t stupid in the way he implied and in a way, you realized you understood. You had liked Jimin freshman year, which was what made this complicated. You had also liked Jungkook and maybe you would’ve stood a chance back then if Jimin hadn’t lied. Then again, maybe not.

It was like what you told Jungkook earlier. It was pointless to ask what if because what ifs weren't what happened. All you had was the current situation and where you went from here.

A thought popped into your mind.

"Can I ask you something?" you said, lowering your arms.

Jimin blinked. "Sure."

"Why did you end things between us freshman year?" you asked. It was something you’d wondered for years. "If you liked me enough to go through all that with Jungkook... then what happened?"

Because he had been the one to end your fuck buddy relationship. You had been perfectly fine to continue seeing him sophomore year, but Jimin had been the one to pull back. It was something that’d always bothered you, but you’d never had the courage to ask.

Jimin gave a lopsided smile. "I wanted to date you, Y/N."

"What?” You looked at him, stunned. “When?"

"Freshman year," he said. "I mentioned going on a date a few times. Getting dinner together, being my date to my dorm's formal... you always turned me down and after a while, I stopped asking."

Dimly, you recall what he’s talking about. He mostly asked first semester, but you remember Jimin mentioning all those things. You always thought he wasn’t serious, but maybe that was just what you wanted to think. You were still hurt by Jungkook, not looking for anything real and maybe you were the one pushing Jimin away.

“I… I didn’t think you really liked me like that,” you said quietly.

Jimin offered a sad smile. “I could’ve been clearer, I guess. I didn’t want to scare you, so I was purposefully vague…” Considering, he shrugged. “I broke things off with you because I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way. Call it self-preservation, or whatever.”

“Oh,” you responded, voice small. 

Seeing your discomfort, Jimin sighed. “Hey, it all worked out – didn’t it? I’m having a good time with my date and you and Jungkook look happy together. I’m glad you are. I just wanted to apologize to you in person, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you said slowly. “I appreciate that.”

“No problem.” Jimin hovered a moment, clearly unsure whether to go. “Well. I should be getting back to my table…”

“It’s just,” you said, interrupting. “I’m not the only one you should apologize to.”

Jimin looked at you in surprise.

“I appreciate you saying something to me,” you said. “And I’m not mad anymore, but Jungkook trusted you back then. You were a dick to him just because you liked me. I’m not the only one who deserves an apology.”

Jimin’s cheeks turned a bit pink. “Yeah. I know.”

You paused a moment, but he didn’t say any more and at last, you nodded. “Thanks again, Jimin.  I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

“You, too.”

Turning around, you left his side.

Oddly, your heart felt lighter with each step you took. You hadn’t realized how much the anticipation of that conversation had weighed upon you. Ever since seeing Jimin enter the bus, you had imagined something like this would happen.

Even if Jimin had been avoiding you, it wasn’t like you had been close friends before. Acquaintances, maybe, but even that dwindled once you realized Jimin’s lie to you freshman year. That kind of breach of trust really shook your foundations.

Maybe in the future you could be friends with Jimin again but honestly, you had no inclination to do so now.

Jungkook was already seated when you reached the table, his napkin unfolded and set on his lap. As you took your seat in the chair beside him, he looked over your shoulder.

“What did Jimin want?”

You glanced his way. “He wanted to apologize.”

Jungkook said nothing, his expression inscrutable.

“He said he was sorry about what happened freshman year.”

With a rough sort of laugh, Jungkook sat back in his seat. Playing with the corner of his napkin, he slowly exhaled. 

After a moment, he said, “Now?”

“Huh?”

“Now?” Jungkook turned to face you. “Jimin says he’s sorry now for what he did?”

“I mean, he –”

“He’s just sorry because he got caught,” he muttered, jaw tight.

“Maybe.” You considered, then sighed. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. He just wanted to apologize. He said he’s glad that we’re happy.”

Jungkook’s next laugh was sharp and he looked away. It wasn’t often he got mad, but when Jungkook did, it was hard to pull out of. He tended to brood, turning things over and over in his mind until the edges were dull.

Reaching out, you placed a hand on his leg. “Hey.”

Jungkook stayed where he was.

Shifting, you reached to place a kiss on his cheek. “Jungkook,” you said softly, squeezing his thigh. “There’s literally nowhere I’d rather be but right here with you.”

Finally, Jungkook caved and turned to look at you. 

His eyes were large and dark, full of something you couldn’t quite place but felt in your soul. Something fluttered in your stomach and you held your breath, anticipating what he was about to say.

His hand covered yours, thumb brushing gently against your palm. “Y/N, I –”

“NOOOO!”

“YES! VINDICATED, AT LAST!”

The sound of the commotion jerked you apart and, craning your head, you spotted the source of the turmoil several seats down at the table. 

Jungkook sat back with a thump, swallowing whatever it was he had to say.

Taehyung stood in front of his chair, one of those silver food platters on the table before him. It seemed dinner had begun to be served and Taehyung had gotten a dish with a lid. When he opened said lid, there had been no food on the plate – only a singular bottle of raspberry Smirnoff Ice.

Dramatically pushing back his chair, Seokjin stood to claim his victory. “Drink!” he declared, spreading his arms. “I’ve finally done it! I’ve bested my enemy, pulled the thorn from my side, tricked the eternal trickster – wait, why are you smiling? Why is he smiling?” he demanded, glancing at Gina.

Gina shrugged.

Taehyung knelt, per the official rules of Icing. He was halfway through what you could only assume to be a very warm bottle of Smirnoff Ice and yet, Taehyung didn’t seem angry. Instead, he had one brow cocked in a way which implied he’d still somehow won.

Seokjin stared at him in confusion.

Continuing to chug, Taehyung gestured beneath Seokjin’s chair.

The next moment seemed to happen in slow motion. Face gone suddenly slack, Seokjin bent and looked under his seat. He paused for a moment, staring at something and then sighed.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

A green apple Smirnoff Ice was under his chair.

“Oh, damn,” whispered Jungkook in sympathy. “Green apple is the worst flavor.”

Finishing his bottle, Taehyung slammed it on the table. “Fuck is right,” he said grandly as he stood. “Don’t forget to kneel, man.”

“But… but – how?” Seokjin cried, looking up. “I checked under my chair before I sat down!”

Mysterious, Taehyung shrugged and sat down. “It’s not your place to question, but to chug.”

As Seokjin sighed and got on with it, Gina leaned over . “Taehyung paid me a hundred bucks to plant it after he’d already sat down,” she whispered, then grinned. “Worth it.”

You snorted into your napkin, hiding it quickly when Seokjin glanced your way. As soon as he was done chugging, Seokjin set his empty bottle on the table and sank low in his seat.

“One of these days,” he muttered to no one. “I’ll get my revenge.”

Gina patted his arm. “Sure you will,” she said, twisting around in her seat. “Oo! They have those mini hot dogs. I love those.”

Seokjin instantly perked up, since he was also a mini hot dog fan. The table settled down after that, once the meals were distributed and people starting to eat. Jungkook cut into his steak beside you, exhaling in relief when he saw it was perfectly cooked. Jungkook had a thing about the temperature of his meat.

You wanted to talk more about Jimin, but the music was loud and the conversation so sensitive, you eventually gave up and figured you’d have time to talk later.

Jungkook’s hand found your thigh midway through the meal, so you knew he wasn’t holding onto a grudge. Or maybe he was and he was just really good at hiding it. Jungkook wasn’t normally the type to be jealous; you knew that wasn’t what this was really about.

It had more to do with what you told Jimin at the end. Jungkook had considered Jimin his friend at one time. It had hurt him as much as you when he’d realized what Jimin had done.

All through dessert you watched Jungkook, trying to read his expression until eventually, his lips quirked and he reached for your hand.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook murmured, arching a brow. “Promise.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

Jungkook laughed, shoveling the last bite of cake in his mouth. Setting his napkin aside, he stood from his seat and reached for your hand. Pulling you out of your chair, he led you in the direction of the dance floor. Most of the tables had already been cleared, their residents disappeared to start the next part of their evening.

Actual awards were only for the end of year banquet, or so Jungkook had told you on the bus. For the midseason banquet there were superlative awards given out, but they were usually distributed at brunch the next morning.

Jungkook pulled you to face him in the middle of the dance floor. One hand on your hip, he drew you close to the music. 

“I’m positive I’m fine,” he said. “Sorry that I overreacted.”

“You didn’t,” you said, tilting your head up. “I know it’s a sensitive topic.”

“I know.” Jungkook still looked troubled. “It’s like you said, though. Who knows what would’ve happened freshman year? Maybe we would’ve worked out. Maybe not. Either way, there’s no point in worrying. We’re together now and that’s what matters.”

“Right.” Stepping closer, you leaned in and rested your head on his chest. “We are.”

Jungkook’s grip on you tightened. “And besides,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t really want to spend any more time thinking about Jimin tonight. I’d rather think about you.”

“Me?”

“Mhm,” he said, low in your ear. “You, and how beautiful you look in that dress.”

“Just this dress?”

“All dresses. All clothes. Also – no clothes. Hell, you could wear a potato sack and I’d still think it was hot.”

Laughing, you looked up. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

Jungkook grinned, his smile bright in the newly dimmed lights. Within the past half hour, someone had turned down the overhead lights for ‘mood lighting.’ The tables had all been pushed back to clear space for the DJ and make a path to the windows. The sight of the city laid out before you was, indeed, spectacular.

A view rivaled only by the man standing before you.

“What?” Jungkook’s grin widened at your expression.

“Just thinking about how good you look,” you said with a sigh. “Can’t wait to use my present on you later.”

His eyes darkened. “So, it’s something to use on me?”

“Whoops,” you said, delicate. “Did I say that? Must’ve misspoke.”

His grip on your waist tightened as you danced. Lowering his head, Jungkook’s lips grazed your ear.

“Y/N.” He spoke softly, one hand sliding to the small of your back. “Don’t tease me. I’m not above public indecency.”

A thrill ran down your spine. “How indecent?” you asked, just as quiet.

To everyone around you, it merely looked as though you were dancing – turning around the room in time to the song. In reality, Jungkook’s breath quickened while your heartbeat raced, tilting your chin upwards to see him.

His gaze had turned positively carnal. “Y/N, just say the word and I’ll fuck you right here and right now.”

“Jungkook,” you whispered. “There are people around.”

His ensuing smile was cocky. “So? Bet they could learn a thing or two.”

“And you think you’d be the one to teach them?”

“I’d say so,” he said quietly. “Based on how loud you are when you come, I’d say I’m doing something right.”

“I see.” Blithely, you continued to dance. “Its statements like that which are exactly why I needed to bring your present.”

Jungkook’s expression melted to nothing. “Y/N,” he whined, all semblance of cockiness gone. “Please tell me what the gift is?”

“Nope. The build-up is half the fun!”

“When it comes to you,” Jungkook groaned. “It doesn’t take much to get me worked up.”

“Hm. You’ll have to control yourself better than that if you want to cum tonight, babe.”

Jungkook made a tortured sound in his throat. “Y/N...”

“Yes?”

Rather than answer, Jungkook grabbed your hand to pull you from the dance floor. Grinning at the broad panes of his back, you grabbed your dress in one hand so as to not trip on your heels.

“Jungkook,” you laughed, passing knowing expressions. “Slow down!”

Jungkook obliged but continued to walk until he found a suitably secluded alcove. Pulling you with, he turned you around to press your back to the wall, dripping his head for a kiss.

Melting into his touch, your arms found his neck to pull him even closer. Jungkook’s body molded to yours, one arm on the wall while his lips devoured you. You arched against him, fingers sliding up his back to entwine in his hair. Jungkook whined when you tugged, breaking away briefly to rest his forehead to yours.

Breathless, you laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” he murmured.

“Mm, nothing.” Your hands slid to his waist. “It’s just… this kiss reminds me of another one.”

“Which one?”

“You know… the one at that party…”

“Oh, yeah.” His lips quirked. “When I beat you in beer pong.”

“Okay, you didn’t beat me.”

Lowering his head, Jungkook’s lips brushed that sensitive junction between neck and collarbone. A sigh escaped when he slid to rest either hand on the wall beside you. Keeping his body carefully separate, only Jungkook’s hot lips chased over your skin. His tongue flicked a heated path up your throat, holding himself back just to prove that he could.

Pulling away, Jungkook met your gaze. Heat radiated from every line of his body, tempting you further to close the distance between you.

“You’ve gotten better at that,” you whispered. “Less tongue.”

Jungkook’s upper lip twitched.

Before you could respond, he bent to kiss you again and all thoughts of reprimand went out the window. Instead, you arched upwards, craving his touch. Jungkook seemed to be of the same mindset, hips caging yours as he ground his way forward.

Hands returned to his hair, you anchored yourself with each breath you stole. Whatever lipstick you’d had on was long gone by now; Jungkook’s hand found your back and – remembering the backless dress you wore – he groaned.

“What bra do you wear with this, anyways?” he said, pulling back.

“None.” Staring at him, your upper lip curled. “I am wearing underwear, but I’ll admit they don’t leave much to the imagination.”

Jungkook looked tortured. “What are you doing to me?” he pleaded, looking at you with puppy-dog eyes. 

Before you could respond, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to your jaw.

“When we get back to the room,” he murmured, marking his way towards your ear. “I want this dress off. Panties on. Keep the heels on. Splayed out like that on the bed, so I can bury myself between your legs and eat your pussy all fucking night.”

“Sounds ambitious,” you breathed, your head hitting the wall.

“It is.” Jungkook smirked. “I like to set goals for myself. And whether I win or lose, you still win.”

“Oh, do I?”

“Mhm. If I don’t edge you all night, you get to come. And if I do, you still get to come. Win-win.”

Laughing, your fingers curled in his hair. “Well, I –”

“Get a roooom,” Seokjin booed as he walked past. “The bathroom’s right here, guys. People have probably been nauseated walking past you for however long you’ve been back here making out.”

Flustered, you glanced over Jungkook’s shoulder and realized Seokjin was right. The back of his tuxedo disappeared into the men’s bathroom, with the women’s room directly across from it in the hall. Groaning softly, you lowered your face to Jungkook’s lapel.

While you hid, Jungkook started to chuckle. His laughter shook your frame, making you smile until eventually, you started to laugh as well.

“Whoops.” Jungkook pulled back, only to wince. Reaching down, he adjusted the too-tight fabric stretched over his crotch. “Um. Maybe we should head to our room.”

“Already? There’s still a few hours left of the banquet.”

“I know, but…” Jungkook glanced past you, looking into the main room. “We came, we drank, we danced… I just kind of want to be with you now.”

“Well, alright,” you said, allowing yourself to be led down the hall. “If that’s really what you want.”

“It is,” he assured, pressing the down button for the elevator.

You smiled, leaning your head to his shoulder while you waited for its arrival. The lights in the hall were dim, bass thumping loudly from the DJ in the next room. Laughter and shouting echoed down the hall, but the spot by the elevator was relatively quiet.

When Jungkook’s phone went off in his pocket, you jumped. “Oh,” you laughed, glancing up. “That scared me.”

“Sorry,” Jungkook said, fishing around in his pocket.

When he saw who was calling, his expression changed and he immediately pressed off. Stuffing this back in his pocket, he shot you a quick smile and faced forward.

The elevator dinged.

You stared at his back as you entered, uncertainty churning your stomach. Things had been going so well, you had almost forgotten about the events of earlier – the text message you saw on his phone and what it might mean for your future.

Now, it was all you could think about. It wasn’t fair to press Jungkook to talk before he was ready but in all honesty, you were kind of going crazy. As the doors shut behind you, you turned to face Jungkook.

“Who was that?” you asked, innocent.

For a moment, Jungkook looked panicked. He hid this quickly behind a mask of indifference, which looked even stranger than the panic had on his face. Jungkook was not an indifferent kind of person.

“Um, no one,” he said quickly – too quickly. “Just my mom.”

Jungkook was a terrible liar.

Setting aside the fact that he was a classic mama’s boy and would have never have ignored her – maybe he would’ve said he can’t talk right now, but he at least would’ve answered – he now fidgeted anxiously like his feet were on fire. Eyes narrowed, you stared as his profile while the numbers of the floors ticked slowly down.

“You can call her back if you want,” you offered.

Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. “Uh – no, that’s okay. She’ll send me a text if it’s important.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Facing forward, you casually stepped from his arm in the guise of being too warm. The numbers had almost reached the twentieth floor, but it wasn’t the descent which had your stomach tied in knots. In your peripheral, you saw Jungkook glance your way while you stared stubbornly at the doors.

The elevator slowed.

“We’re here,” you announced, striding into the hall.

You kept a few steps ahead of him as you walked, gaze focused on your room at the end of the hall. Even though you knew it was unfair to be mad, you couldn’t help the hurt which hounded your thoughts.

When Jungkook had taken out his phone, you had seen the name of the person calling him – Bob Sutherland, the very same recruiter who’d texted him earlier. Each step you took made you angrier, wondering if he’d already gotten the offer, or maybe he’d even accepted. You weren’t sure what the NHL recruiting process was, let alone what your place in it would be as his girlfriend.

Coming to a stop at your hotel room, you halted and waited for Jungkook to catch up.

He did so easily, brow creased as he reached to take hold of your hand. “Hey,” he said gently, turning you to face him. “Is something wrong? Did you want to stay at the banquet longer?”

You looked at his hand for a moment before raising your gaze to his.

“No,” you responded. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Jungkook hesitated. “Want to talk about it, whatever it is?”

You scowled. “I said nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Y/N,” Jungkook said with a smile. “Come on. You can tell me – what is it?”

For a moment, you just stared at him. Your first instinct was to push this down, to pretend it didn’t bother you, but that was cowardly. The situation clearly upset you and trying to pretend otherwise wasn’t fair to you, or to him. 

Before you could change your mind, you blurted, “Why’d you lie about your mom calling you just now?”

The words slipped past in a rush and Jungkook froze. The look on his face would have been comical had the circumstances not been making you sick to your stomach.

“I – what?” 

“Right now,” you explained. “Before we entered the elevator, you said your mom called, but she didn’t. Admit it.”

Jungkook stared at you a second longer, then glanced at the door. “Maybe we should talk about this inside…”

“No. Let’s have the conversation right here.”

Gaze narrowing, Jungkook returned to you. “I really think this is more of an inside the room conversation, Y/N.”

“You can’t tell me you want to go into the NHL in the hall?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “I – what? Who told you that?”

“I saw your phone earlier,” you said, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “That NHL recruiter texted you – Bob Sutherland, right? I didn’t mean to see it, but it was right there on the bed, and I…”

Jungkook paused, then shook his head. “And you... waited this long to talk to me?”

“Um, hello?” you shot back. “Pot, this is kettle.”

He winced. “Okay, fine. I guess I deserve that. I just... didn’t want to say anything until I was sure this was even an option.”

Bleakly, you laughed. “What does that mean? You were only going to tell me once you’d decided? Maybe once you had your jersey and a new apartment in some other city?”

Jungkook’s expression darkened. “It’s not like that,” he said as you pulled away.

“It is like that,” you responded, stopping before the door. “Can you open this? I don’t have the room key.”

Jungkook didn’t move. “Y/N.”

“Open the door.”

“Y/N,” he said, softer this time.

You waited another moment, then slowly exhaled. 

“What?” you said, glancing sideways.

This was a mistake, since Jungkook was an awful liar and you could tell he wasn’t lying right now. All his emotion was etched clear on his face – regret, uncertainty, and something more, something stronger. The feeble spark of anger in your stomach extinguished with a hiss.

Stepping forward, Jungkook placed both hands on your arms. “I didn’t want you to stress over nothing,” he said quietly. “That’s the only reason I didn’t tell you right away.”

Jaw tight, you glanced over his shoulder.

“I swear,” Jungkook continued. “It’s just… we haven’t been dating long and things are going so well. I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of dumb,” you muttered, moving your gaze to his. “You didn’t want to mess things up, so you kept something big from me?”

“Come on, Y/N,” he pleaded, frustration notched between his brows.  “If I went into the NHL this year, I’d have to leave University before you. I’d have to move to whatever city picked me.”

“I know.”

“We only just started dating!” he said, looking tortured. “You only just started calling yourself my girlfriend. I didn’t want you to break up with me. Not when I don’t even know what I want. I don’t know if I want to go into the NHL this year. I just…” 

He stopped and inhaled, looking helpless.

There was such confusion on his face, such ardent sincerity that whatever anger you felt began to ebb away. It didn’t vanish entirely; you still wish he would’ve told you, but looking at him, you understood why he did it.

“It’s... okay,” you said finally.

Jungkook glanced at you, uncertain.

“It’s okay,” you insisted, sliding both hands up his arms. “I… yeah. It’ll be fine, Jungkook. Now, will you listen to what I have to say?”

Although he seemed skeptical, he nodded.

“Jungkook.” You looked at him seriously. “This is your career, okay? This is your future. I’m not going to break up with you just because you graduate early.”

“You don’t know that,” he countered. “That’s a lot to ask. Long distance is hard, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“It’s unfair of me to ask you to do that.”

“I think I’ll decide what’s unfair to me, Jeon.”

“I just...” Running a hand through his hair, he left the strands ruffled in the back. “I needed more time. More time to figure out what I wanted, more time to make you…”

“Make me what?”

“Make you fall in love with me, too,” he said quietly.

You went still.

The hall around you fell silent – so quiet, you heard the sound of your heart beating. Or maybe that was his; the sound was too loud, whoever it belonged to. It drowned out all coherent thought and left a ringing noise in your ears. 

Before you could respond, Jungkook shut his eyes.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead. “I know it’s too soon. We haven’t been dating that long and fuck, I probably shouldn’t have said it like that. I should’ve done something romantic, right? With flowers and music and – I don’t know. I just love you, Y/N and it’s really hard to keep it in, when –”

Reaching up, you pressed your palms to his cheeks. “Jeon.”

He opened his eyes, face squished in your hands.

“I love you, too,” you said seriously.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he tried to speak, but the sound was constrained by your hands.

“Oops, sorry,” you said, releasing his face. “What was that?”

“You... love me,” he repeated, dumbfounded.

“Yeah.”

“Wow.” Jungkook paused. “Huh.”

Futilely, you tried to hide your smile. “Is that seriously all you have to say?”

“Kind of.” Jungkook grinned but after a moment, his smile began to disappear. “I really am sorry I lied, Y/N. I promise I wouldn’t have kept it a secret much longer.”

“I know,” you said quietly, taking his hand. “I get why you did it. That’s a giant change to be thinking about.”

“It is, yeah.”

“But,” you added, grip tightening. “I love you, Jungkook. I want to be with you. You don’t have to hide these kinds of things from me.”

Wonderingly, his gaze roamed your face. “No?”

“No. We’ll work through it together. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, expression softening.

“Good.” You smiled. “You won’t scare me off, Jeon. Promise. Just tell me where your new apartment is and I’ll rack up frequent flyer miles.”

When Jungkook smiled, the corners of his eyes creased. “What if I decide to move to the moon?” he challenged.

“I might question your sanity, Jeon, but I wouldn’t be scared.”

“What if I decided to move to mars?”

“I might be a little scared,” you admitted. “Only because then, you’d probably be neighbors with Elon Musk.”

Jungkook laughed, reaching past to press his key card to the door. The light on the handle turned green, letting you in. Jungkook grabbed your hand and pulled you with, not bothering to turn on the lights.

As soon as the door fell shut behind you, Jungkook turned and pressed you to the wood. He immediately bent and began to kiss up your neck, placing one hand on the door and the other firmly around your waist. Pulling you close, he curved your body to his.

You found yourself no better, one hand sliding into his hair to open his mouth with your own. Jungkook groaned, his voice graveled, and the heat shot straight to your core.

“Jungkook,” you said, breaking away.

“Yeah?” he murmured, kissing back down your neck.

Heart stuttering, you forced yourself to focus. “I love you,” you whispered, your curving in the darkness.

It felt so good to finally say it out loud, to stop holding back what you had been feeling for some time. 

Slowly, Jungkook bent to press his forehead to yours. “You sure?” he said quietly. “Don’t feel like you need to say it because I did. Just because I’m stupid in love with you doesn’t mean you need to be.”

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop being dumb and kiss me.”

Jungkook snorted when you grabbed his tie with one hand to pull him towards you. Elbow buckling, he pressed you against the door while his laughter fanned your face.

Tilting your head upwards, your lips lightly brushed. “Want to know what your present is?”

Jungkook answered immediately. “Yes.”

“It’s going to sound silly now that you told me you loved me.”

“Hey, you said it back!”

“I did.”

“… I still want to know what my present is.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, walking a hand up his chest. “Alright, so maybe I went into that one drawer of your nightstand.”

Jungkook stilled.

“And maybe I brought something for us to play with.”

In the darkness, you heard him audibly swallow. 

“What… what did you decide to bring?”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you lifted your lips to his ear. “Maybe the handcuffs.”

The next moment happened faster than you could comprehend.

Seizing you around the waist, Jungkook picked you up to carry you towards the bedroom. You squealed, smacking his ass from your upside-down position. Ignoring you, Jungkook flipped on the light as he walked and, upon reaching the bed, deposited you on the mattress.

You bounced on the landing, grinning as you adjusted yourself on the duvet.

Jungkook had already begun to remove his tie. He paused with it half-undone, staring at you on the sheets. Wriggling your ass deeper, you arched a brow.

“Alright.” Jungkook placed his hands on both hips. “How do you want to do this?”

You grinned. “What do you mean?”

He glanced at your hands. “I mean – do you want to wear the cuffs, or should I? Should we do this on the bed? Do you want the cuffs on my wrists, or what?”

“Whoa,” you exhaled, sitting up. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

Jungkook paused, then nodded and smiled. 

Leisurely, he began to walk towards your suitcase. He undid his cuffs as he walked, placing them on the nightstand before he bent to the zipper. Opening the flap, he scanned the inside and immediately spotted the handcuffs on top of your sweatpants.

Glancing over his shoulder, he arched a brow. “Really?”

“What?” you said, somewhat defensive. “I wanted to protect them from damage.”

Jungkook reached out and shut your suitcase. With the cuffs dangling from one hand, he stood and looked once more at you. A hunger had entered his gaze which made you squeeze your thighs together.

“Why don’t we start with you?” he said, moving closer. “I’ll make you feel good and then you can decide if you want to cuff me.”

“That sounds good,” you whispered.

Jungkook came to a stop at the foot of the bed. Gaze raking your frame, he traced every curve with an indecency bordering on obscene.

“I wasn’t kidding before,” he said, gaze lifting. “I want you naked except for those heels and your panties.”

A thrill traveled your spine, slowly extending your legs to stand from the bed. Without looking away, you reached behind your back to slowly unzip your zipper. You caught your dress before it fell, pressing it to your chest and keeping it there.

Jungkook exhaled. “The rest of it, sweetheart,” he said, sounding hoarse. “I want to see those pretty tits of yours on display.”

“Oh, do you?”

Teasing, you lowered the fabric until your nipples were practically visible. They caught at the fabric, pressed against silk while Jungkook swallowed hard.

“Yes, please,” he said.

Without looking away, you dropped your dress to the floor.

Jungkook sucked in a breath as he stared. His gaze trailed your breasts, rounded and peaked; the apex of your thighs, where you could already feel yourself slick with arousal. He glanced at your feet, still in the heels he said not to change out of.

A growl escaped him when he reached for his cock. Palming himself over his pants, Jungkook stared hard at your body.

“Jungkook,” you whimpered, needing him to touch you.

His gaze snapped to yours. “Look at you,” he murmured, stepping closer. Sliding a hand to the back of your neck, he tilted your face up. “Nipples already hard for me.” Reaching out, he palmed your breast. “Is this pussy wet for me, too?”

“You know it is,” you said breathily.

Nose ghosting your neck, Jungkook traced a path down your throat. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“Gonna take a look.” Jungkook pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Gonna see how wet I can get you – just me, though,” he said, stepping back. “You’re not allowed to touch yourself yet. Understand?”

Eager, you nodded.

It had been a few months since you started having sex and in that time, you had learned to read each other well. Jungkook knew that after a fight, you usually liked him to be in control. The mental exhaustion was tiring and you just wanted to come, and come hard.

“Good,” Jungkook said with a smirk. “Now, sit on the bed.”

Turning around, you sat and scooted until your back hit the headboard. Jungkook’s hands found his belt, slowly undoing each notch while you watched. Pulling this from the loops, he dropped it on the floor to shrug from his jacket.

Once free, he knelt one knee on the bed. “Spread your legs,” he said quietly. “Good girl.”

You obeyed, feeling liberated by the lack of control. You trusted Jungkook to take care of you, to listen to you and to know when to stop. It was part of what made sex which him better than anyone else. He understood you in a way you found hard to describe.

“Here?” you asked, spreading your legs on the sheets.

Jungkook moved towards you. “Here,” he agreed, slipping one metal cuff around your wrist.

You inhaled when he closed it, threading the links behind the bedpost and taking your other hand in his. He clicked the second cuff in place, leaving you with both arms overhead, splayed out on the mattress. Arching experimentally upwards, you found your arms restrained.

Withdrawing, Jungkook sat back on his heels. He stared at you a moment, then slid his hands up your torso. Almost recently, he bent his head to flick your nipple with his tongue.

“Oh,” you gasped, arching upwards.

Your wrists strained at the metal, but the sensation was more discomfort than actual pain. The fact that you couldn’t touch him had your skin on fire. Jungkook’s mouth was sloppy, teasing your nipples just the way you liked, urging them to peaks so he could suck with abandon. You arched on the mattress, the cold metal of handcuffs biting into your skin.

You hadn’t been lying – you’d never done this sort of thing with any previous boyfriend but with Jungkook, you found yourself wanting to explore. No one had ever made you feel this comfortable, this open and trusting he would make you feel good.

Switching to your other breast, Jungkook blew on it gently before taking it in his mouth. When he grazed you with his teeth, you let out a whimper and he sucked in earnest. The noises he made made your cheeks heat, your barely clothed core grinding against the duvet.

Your lace thong was sticky, drenched in evidence of easy arousal. Jungkook seemed to realize this as you did, his finger drifting to dip beneath the edge of the fabric. Reluctantly pulling away from your chest, Jungkook twisted the fabric to stare at your cunt.

Although you couldn’t see, you could feel how indecent it was. Drenched lace snagged in the folds of your pussy, revealing your glistening sex to his darkened gaze.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned, brushing his thumb up your folds.

The way you shuddered made him moan and he did it again. Jungkook’s thumb slid lower, lazily stroking the entrance of your pussy. He teased until you clenched around him with need, arousal dripping from your cunt to gather at your ass.

“Feet up.” Jungkook pulled back. “Thighs spread.”

You did as he said, placing your heels on the mattress to spread your legs. Jungkook’s jaw clenched at the sight, staring hazily at you like it was the first time. Immediately, he bent and lowered himself between your legs.

“Y/N,” he moaned, dragging his tongue up your sex.

You shuddered at this, tugging on your restraints, which held. Arching against him, you pushed your hips forward while Jungkook ate you out. He wasted no time, lips immediately wrapping around your swollen clit, coaxing you hard and fast towards your first orgasm of the night.

Sliding both arms under your thighs, Jungkook used them as leverage while he licked your pussy. Burying himself between your legs, he devoured you with such ecstasy, you could barely breathe.

The hard lines of his back strained against his shirt and you wished this was gone, wished you could see his pretty skin, but Jungkook seemed determined to make you come like this – his tongue buried in your cunt and his nose brushing your clit.

Your entire body seized, ready to come but then he pulled back and slid two fingers in at the hilt.

Gasping, your entire pussy quivered when his tongue returned to your clit. “Oh my god,” you blubbered, arching against him. “Oh my fucking god, Jungkook.”

His fingers were relentless, immediately fucking the warm wetness of your pussy. The squelch they made sliding in and out was obscene, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It felt too fucking good, with them pounding your cunt and making you see stars.

If you could have, you would’ve grabbed his hair and ridden his face, but you couldn’t. Instead, you arched as hard as you could and gripped your thighs together – Jungkook growled between them – unable to do anything but take it when he gave you your orgasm.

It crashed into you like a wave as you cried out in pleasure below him. You shuddered apart; Jungkook kept both arms wrapped around you until you were done. As the pleasure finally subsided, he gradually slowed his mouth to look up.

He grinned, lips red and wet from his exertions.

With a groan, you collapsed back on the bed. The metal bit into the skin of your wrists, your chest rising and falling while Jungkook shifted above you.

“You okay?” he asked gently, dropping a kiss to your lips.

You nodded, turning your head to capture him in a kiss. Jungkook kissed eagerly back, thighs settling on either side of your hips. He finally pulled away, reaching for the bedside to locate the key.

“Yeah,” you said, waiting for him to unlock the cuffs. “I feel really good, in fact.”

Jungkook grinned and released the cuff from your right wrist. You lowered your arm to your side while he undid the other, patiently waiting for your wrists to be freed. When you were, Jungkook bent his head to press his lips where the cuffs used to be.

He then moved to your feet – you had nearly forgotten you still wore your heels, but Jungkook slid them easily off to drop them to the floor.

You moved to sit up but Jungkook bent and kissed you again. His hands slid to your hair, thighs caging your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips. Desire lazily curled in your stomach; rather than sate you, your previous orgasm had left you hungry for more.

“Jungkook,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Why’s your shirt still on?”

Jungkook snorted and sat back, reaching for his front. Without looking away, he began to undo his buttons. He moved slowly, pushing each button through fabric at a maddening pace until you whined and pressed your hips up to his.

“Eager?” he teased, tugging an arm from the sleeve.

As soon as his shirt hit the floor, you sighed in satisfaction. No matter how many times you saw him, the sight of Jungkook shirtless never ceased to amaze.

“Wait – stay there,” you said, reaching to run a hand up his front.

One of Jungkook’s tattoos dipped to his pec, swirling above his dusky nipple in delicate lines. When your thumb casually brushed this, he shuddered.

Pleased, you looked up. “Sensitive, Jeon?”

“You know I am,” he grumbled, though he seemed far from perturbed. Gaze glinting in darkness, Jungkook lowered himself to his palms. “Do it again.”

You obeyed, casually dragging a finger over his pert, rosy nipple. Jungkook inhaled through his teeth, staring at you while you began to tease. When your fingers moved to his other nipple, he actually whined and lowered his head.

“Okay,” you said, making a decision. “I’m going to need you in those cuffs now.”

Jungkook lifted his head. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled.

He immediately sat back on his heels, shirtless and slacks strained across his erection. It was obvious from the way he sat it was uncomfortable and yet, Jungkook made no move to relieve himself. The sight sent a thrill down your spine.

This scenario had crossed your mind more than a few times, you had to admit. Having Jungkook seated before you, ready to do whatever you wanted. He was just so big and strong – the sight of him kneeling was more than you could bear.

“Scoot back,” you said, jerking your chin at the headboard.

Jungkook obeyed, scooting until he leaned against the latticed metalwork of the bed. Arching a brow, he asked, “What now?”

“Now,” you said, grabbing the handcuffs to move towards him. “I’m thinking about how I want you.”

He smirked. “What’re you thinking?”

“I could cuff you to the bed,” you wondered. “Or… no, I know what I want. Get back on your knees.”

Jungkook licked his lips and nodded, moving into position.

“Wait,” you said, making him pause. “Take off your pants first.”

He stopped and slid his hand under the top of his slacks. Undoing first the button, then the zipper, Jungkook slowly dragged them down muscular thighs. Once his slacks fell to his ankles, Jungkook kicked them to the floor.

“Now your boxers,” you instructed, gaze hungrily roaming his frame.

The handcuffs remained in your hand, but Jungkook paid them no attention while he stripped down to nothing. Keeping his gaze on yours, he dragged his boxers lower. The second his cock was freed, it sprang up to smack his muscled abs.

You nearly groaned at the sight of how hard he was. The tip of his cock was reddened and leaking, a thick bead of cum working its way down his shaft.

“Hands behind your back,” you said, lifting your gaze.

Jungkook did as he was told, the muscles in his biceps bulging as he went. Although you audibly swallowed, you pushed past this and went to attach the first cuff.

“Is this okay?” you asked, glancing up at his face.

Jungkook smirked. “Yeah. Put the other one on.”

Cheeks hated, you nodded and fastened the other behind his back. Jungkook exhaled, dark hair flopping forward while he experimentally tugged with his arms. The cuffs didn’t give. You stared at him a moment, drinking in the sight of him naked, kneeling and utterly yours.

Unable to stop it, you smiled.

Jungkook glanced up. “What’s that look for, baby?”

“Nothing,” you said, scooting backwards. “You just, um…”

“What?”

“Look fucking hot.”

His cheeks flushed, a fact you found endearing – even with his dick standing hard and thick between his thighs. Bending, you placed a hand on either side of his legs.

Curious, you looked up. “Have you ever done this before?”

Jungkook shook his head. “No. I never really… wanted to do this with anyone else.”

Warmth filled you, knowing exactly what he meant. There’d been no one else you trusted this much either. It was a strange thing to relinquish control, to surrender yourself to someone else and trust they wouldn’t hurt you.

“Same,” you whispered. 

You bent and licked a strip up his cock.

Jungkook groaned, head rolling back as you teased his length. Sitting up, you spit in your palm to wrap most of the way around his cock. You began to slide up and down and Jungkook exhaled, thighs twitching beneath your palm. His eyes drifted shut, enjoying your touch as you stroked his dick.

Seeing the way his arms strained at the cuffs, you grinned. “Enjoying yourself?”

He cracked open an eye. “Wanna touch you,” he said.

“Too bad,” you sing-songed, bending to wrap your lips around his cock.

Jungkook groaned, straining once more against the cuffs. You refused to take him all in your mouth at one go, sucking on the tip before tracing his sensitive head with your tongue. Jungkook exhaled, hips pushing forward in an attempt to coax you further onto his dick.

Pulling back, you left him with a pop. “Uh-uh,” you said. “You’re not the one in control here, Jeon. I am.”

“Oh, yeah?” A devilish glint entered his eyes. “Prove it.”

Heart pounding, you pushed yourself up and moved closer. Sliding a hand into his hair, you angled his head to kiss him on the lips. Jungkook melted forward, lips chasing yours before you pulled back. 

Settling just beyond his reach, you smiled and let your hand return to his cock.

“Fuck,” Jungkook whimpered.

“In a bit,” you answered, thumb brushing his tip.

Jungkook’s tongue poked the side of his cheek, staring while you continued your motions. Head lowering, you took him again in your mouth and slid partway down. Lifting off, you trailed his frenulum with your tongue and then bent to take him all the way.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasped, staring while you deep-throated his cock. “Fuck – that feels so good, baby. Ah.”

His hips bucked when you took him deeper and in response, you pulled back.

“Nope,” you said with a smirk. “Every time you do that, I’ll stop. Keep still, baby,” you said, continuing to fist him with one hand. “You can do that for me, right? Be a good boy?”

Jungkook’s gaze turned heavy with desire. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah, I’ll be so fucking good for you, baby. Promise.”

Taking him back in your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks to move faster. Balancing both palms on his thighs, you forced your head down until you gagged on his cock. Pulling back, you let spit break over your lip and fisted him roughly, making him sloppy and wet.

Jungkook whimpered again, straining at the cuffs. His nipples were rock hard and upon seeing this, you lifted to lick over a nub.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook blurted, hips thrusting forward.

You let him fuck your hand for a few seconds, his hard length chasing the warmth of your hand. And then you pulled away, relinquishing your grip and Jungkook’s eyes widened, realizing what he’d done.

“No,” he groaned, chest sagging.

He looked utterly defeated by the realization you might stop – or at the very least, you’d make him work for it harder. The only thing wrong with this assumption was that you were now obscenely horny and just wanted him inside you.

“It’s okay, baby.” Using the same hand, you lifted his chin. “You did so well, lasting for me as long as you did.”

Jungkook looked at you, hopeful. “So, you’ll let me come?”

“Oh. No.” His face fell. “At least,” you allowed, positioning yourself over his cock, “not until I feel you inside me.”

It had been a few weeks since you had stopped using condoms. Soon after you started dating, you decided to get tested since you were already on the pill. It was worth it the first time he came inside you and swirled his fingers through the mess.

Jungkook watched you remove your sodden panties, dropping them on the floor and returning to his lap. Lowering yourself, you let the soaked folds of your center gently brush his cock. Jungkook hissed as though you had wounded him, straining against the cuffs like he could break them.

Immediately, you stopped. “Jungkook?” you asked, gaze roaming his face in concern. “Are you still okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, practically panting. “Fuck, yeah. I’m good, but I need to be inside you. Now.”

“So impatient,” you tsk-d, reaching to grasp his cock beneath you. One hand on his shoulder, you began to lower yourself on his length.

Just his tip entered at first, parting the velvet walls of your sex and making you moan. You’d already come once tonight, but with how tight you were, that seemed a distant memory. Sliding your hand lower on his cock, you dropped yourself lower to take him inside you.

Jungkook stared; transfixed by the sight of him entering your pussy. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured. “Feel stretched enough, baby? Need anything from me?”

“N-no,” you stuttered, already feeling the burn.

He looked up and arched a brow. “How about this?” he murmured, shifting his weight. “Since I can’t use my hands or my tongue on your pussy, how about I get you wet like this?”

“Like what?”

“Take your hand off my cock so you can touch yourself,” he suggested sweetly. “Put your finger in my mouth first, though. Wanna taste you.”

You obeyed, thighs trembling as you released him and brought your finger to his lips. Jungkook opened, wrapping his lips around your digit to easily suck. You inhaled at the sight, thoroughly aroused as you felt yourself slip another inch on his length.

Jungkook released your finger. “Now put that hand between your thighs,” he said, waiting for you to do so. “There you go, baby. I know how swollen your clit was when I sucked on you earlier. Is it still like that? Still puffy and needy for me?”

Slipping your hand between your legs, you circled your sex. “Yeah,” you breathed, sinking down on him another inch. “It’s still like that.”

“Good.” Jungkook smirked. “Give it a pinch, then slowly rub it.”

The second you did this, a wave of pleasure swept through you.

“Again,” Jungkook said.

You did it again.

“And again.”

This time when you did it, you felt your hips settle against his. Glancing down in surprise, you realized his cock had nestled all the way inside you – his thick girth split you so prettily, the wetness of your pussy soaked into his base.

“Oh,” you exhaled, looking up.

Jungkook’s eyes glinted. “Ride me.”

The way he spoke sparked fire in your veins, reaching for his shoulders as you slowly moved upwards. Once you were nearly empty, you dropped to take him all in one motion. You gasped at the sensation, head tipping back as you did it again.

Gripping his shoulders, you controlled the pace to slowly move up and down. You went purposefully slower, reveling in the feeling of him being inside you, the sight of his chest rising and falling with each breath he took.

Leaning onto your palms, you lifted your hips and sunk down on his cock. You swiveled your hips as you went, letting him feel how wet you were for him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned, taking a deep breath.

His gaze roamed your chest, rising and falling with your hips; your cunt, swallowing him whole to drip onto his thighs. A moan left him at the sight of your clit, so swollen and pretty but unable to touch.

“Baby,” he moaned.

“Yeah?”

Sitting up straight, you let him fall from your body and repositioned yourself above him. Sinking down on his length, you slid both hands to his hair and eagerly kissed him. Your chests brushed as you rode him, rolling your hips over his massive cock.

Growing impatient, Jungkook finally snapped his hips upwards. “Please,” he panted, lips dropping down your throat. “Please undo the cuffs, Y/N. I need to fuck you.”

“Okay,” you agreed, reaching beside you to grab the key.

It took you a few seconds to unlock a cuff and the moment you did, Jungkook moved. He didn’t wait for the other one to be released – pushing you back on the bed, he hiked your leg up and buried himself in you to the hilt. Lips parted, you stared at him dazed as he suddenly filled you. The stretch felt so fucking good, your eyes watered.

Softening, Jungkook brushed a kiss to your lips. “That okay?” he murmured, reaching down for your clit.

It was swollen, like he said and your eyes nearly rolled back as he began to play with you.

“Oh my god, yes,” you mumbled, stretched out beneath him. “Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me hard.”

His gaze immediately darkened. “Alright, baby.”

Knowing exactly what you meant by this, Jungkook pulled out. He flipped you over, pulling your ass in the air so your pussy was on display. His fingers swiped at your entrance, feeling how soaked you were before he lined himself up and plunged inside you. It was a more intense stretch this way – his cock hit so deeply like this, filling you up with a despondency you craved.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, chest pressed to the bed.

Your thighs were eagerly spread, Jungkook’s hands on your hips while he fucked himself into you. Each time he filled you left you groaning, your pussy deliciously stretched by his massive cock.

“That’s it,” Jungkook grunted, fingers gripping your waist. “God, you take my cock so well, baby. Such a good little slut for me.”

He paused, waiting for your reaction and you moaned in response. You weren’t always in the mood, but sometimes all you wanted was to be called his filthy whore. Wanted Jungkook to use your pussy like his cum dump, fucking you over and over like he couldn’t control it.

“That’s right,” you groaned, spreading your legs wider. “All yours, baby.”

Jungkook grunted and spanked you, jolting you forward. Your ass quivered when he did this again, timing his efforts with each thrust of his cock.

“Fuck yeah, it’s for me,” he panted. “Got you on all fours like a bitch in heat. You just want to be stuffed full of cock – right, baby? Want your pussy fucked full of cum?”

“Yes,” you moaned, pushing back. “Full of your cum, Jungkook. Oh.”

“That’s right – only my cum,” he said, satisfied. “Only my dick knows how to fuck you this good.”

You moaned, unable to be more coherent than that.

“You think the rest of the floor can hear you?” Jungkook mused, his hips never wavering. “Think they can hear you moaning my name, making such a sweet mess of my cock? Think they’re all jealous they don’t have a perfect pussy like yours?”

“Fuck, Jungkook!” you gasped, arching your back.

He spanked you again. “Hope they can all hear what a perfect slut you are. How nicely you take a big cock, how much you like being fucked full of my cum.”

Reaching down, Jungkook slipped an arm under your chest. He lifted you against him, pressing his chest to yours from behind. His hips never ceased, his cock continuing to split you open while he fucked like that. You could feel yourself quivering, core clenching hard on his cock while you neared your next orgasm.

Which is why it felt so sudden when Jungkook decided to pull out.

“Jungkook!” you gasped, sagging in his hold.

Your head spun, wanting – needing­ – to come and if it weren’t for his arms around you, you would have collapsed to the sheets. Jungkook kissed your neck once before he turned you around and laid you down on the bed. It was necessary for him to take the lead since your thighs were still shaking.

Balancing his weight on his palms, Jungkook gave you a shy smile. “I just…” He shook his head. “I wanted to see you.”

Melting at his words, you stared back at him. His gaze was so open, so hopeful that you lifted your arms and pulled his chest down to yours.

“Wanna see you too,” you whispered, kissing him softly.

Jungkook reached down to position himself between your thighs and this time when he filled you, it felt different. He began to move slowly, rolling his hips while he kissed down your throat.

Each thrust he gave was deep, purposeful, and designed to complete you. It did – no, he did, you realized as your arms slid around him. When he fucked you like that, each roll of his hips brushed your clit and soon enough you found yourself right back on the edge.

“Jungkook,” you groaned, pressing your face to his shoulder.

Your fingers dug into his skin, hips chasing his while he buried himself inside you. Over and over, his cock hit that place deep inside which made you cry out beneath him.

“Oh,” you gasped, clutching him tighter. “Jungkook.”

Dropping to one elbow, he began to fuck you faster. Grabbing one of your knees, he hiked this over your waist and began to thrust harder, driving you towards your orgasm.

“Love you,” he murmured, hips chasing yours. “Fuck.” Jungkook sighed. “So glad I can say that now.”

“Love you too,” you whispered, fingers curling into his hair.

With each thrust he gave, you felt yourself closer to falling apart. His heat was everywhere – on your lips, on your neck, with his thick cock inside you. It was nearly unbearable, how full of him you felt.

“Jungkook,” you whimpered, burying your face in his chest. “P-please. Come inside me. Wanna feel you.”

“Yeah?” His breath hitched. “You want me to fill you up? Get this pussy all messy with my cum?”

“Please, Jungkook,” you gasped.

“You first,” he demanded, thrusting into you with an intensity which stole the breath from your lungs.

Gasping him by the shoulders, you felt yourself clench as he fucked you harder. When you came, it was with his name on your lips and his cock inside you. Feeling you clench tightly around him, Jungkook swore and gave several deep thrusts.

It was only a few seconds later you felt him release, hot spurts of cum filling up your cunt. There was so much of it, your pussy eagerly taking until it couldn’t take anymore. You felt some of it dribble out the sides, sliding to your ass from your fucked-out hole. Jungkook stayed there as long as he could, pushing his cum deeper inside you with each lazy thrust.

Your sensitivity was overwhelming but you pushed through it, wanting him to stay inside you as long as possible. Arms wrapped around him, you pulled his chest down to yours and smiled happily upwards, feeling his cock soften inside you.

Jungkook brushed a kiss to your forehead. “Y/N…”

“Yeah?”

“Can we get this other cuff off me?”

Snorting, you looked and realized he still had the cuffs attached to his left wrist. Twisting beneath him – Jungkook whined when he slipped out – you reached for the key. He immediately brightened once the cuff was released.

You grinned. “Better?”

“Better,” Jungkook said, flopping back down.

“Jungkook!” you grunted when he landed on your hips.

“Hm?”

“I need to get up.”

“No, you don’t.” He pancaked on top of you and grinned. “See? Now you’re trapped.”

Laughing, you grabbed for his bare ass. “I really have to get up,” you said. “All your cum is still inside me, Jeon.”

“Damn, okay,” he said, shaking his head. “If that’s a hint, fine. I’ll eat it out of you, just give me a minute.”

Your eyes widened, intrigued by this idea but you pushed it aside. “No – now, Jeon,” you said.

Jungkook grinned. “Alright,” he exhaled, rolling off. “But come back here soon!”

“Or else what?” you said, swinging your legs over the bed.

“Or else I’ll be lonely.”

When he exaggeratedly pouted, you laughed.

Stretching both arms overhead, you made your way towards the bathroom. Your entire body felt sated; full of that heavy-limbed sensation which only came from a mind-blowing orgasm. At the bathroom you paused and looked over your shoulder.

Jungkook remained on the bed, hair rumpled and clothing still on the floor. He looked gorgeous, but that wasn’t what first crossed your mind. The first thing you thought was you wanted more nights like this in the future.

Not just the sex part (although that would be nice), but this. Him in your bed, ready to go to sleep next to you. Ready to wake up in the morning. Laughing and talking and just being together.

It was easy to picture yourself doing this with him five years from now, twenty, even fifty. Realizing this, you paused and waited for the panic to come.

Nothing happened and after a moment, you exhaled.

Jungkook glanced up from the bed, caught you looking and smiled – which sent a wave of rightness through you. This might be it, you realized. He might be it.

Oddly enough, the thought didn’t scare you at all.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Author’s Note: Thank you very much for reading!

THE ART OF MORE CHARACTER ASK GAME

[gallifrey1sburning]

Hi 👋 a prompt you can take or leave: Draco is very unsure whether he is being flirted with or this is an extension of their office rivalry that he doesn't understand (or the reverse!) Ty!

@skeptiquex and @ihavesomeideawhatimdoinghere, I read both of your prompts back to back, and they worked really well together, so I squished them into one. I hope you enjoy! Thank you both for sending me things, and thanks to @mxmaneater for the fast beta ❤️

—

The Tally

“One more for me!” Harry crowed, scratching a new tally mark next to his name on the chalkboard behind Draco’s head. “Better luck next time, Malfoy.” The board had a partner behind Harry’s desk, and the tallies recorded on one would reflect on the other, but Harry took great joy in invading Draco’s space and rubbing his victories in his face at every opportunity. Not that Draco was any better. It was part of the fun.

“Please, that one hardly counted,” Draco objected reflexively. “You only caught him because you tripped, for Merlin’s sake. Hardly an impressive arrest.” 

Harry shrugged and grinned, perching on the edge of Draco’s desk. “An arrest is an arrest.”

“Whatever,” Draco grumped. He and Harry had been playing this game for over a year now, and the margin was always extremely close. Harry was just barely ahead, at the moment, but Draco would catch up to him soon. He and Parvati had a potions ring bust coming up that Harry and Weasley weren’t involved in. Once that was done, he’d have overtaken him, and the smug expression currently gracing his colleague’s face would disappear along with his lead.

“So, any big weekend plans?” Harry asked, ignoring Draco’s pout.

Draco dropped the expression when it failed to produce the desired reaction. “Nothing too exciting. Yourself?”

“I’ve got tickets for the Puddlemere game on Saturday, actually. Ron was supposed to come, but something came up, so I’m trying to find someone else who might want to go. It would be a shame for the ticket to go to waste.” Harry was biting his lip and looking hopeful, and for just a moment, Draco thought— but no. If he’d wanted to ask, he would have asked, he told himself firmly. 

Taking care to keep his expression light, Draco pondered for a moment before saying. “I think McCutcheon is a Puddlemere fan. Maybe try him?”

“Oh, right.” Draco almost thought that Harry looked disappointed for a moment, but on second glance, his expression was clear and friendly. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll see if he’s free. Have a great weekend, Draco. Parvati.” He knocked his knuckles against the desktop twice before straightening and walking off, hands in pockets. Draco watched him go, sighing as he rounded the corner. It really was a pleasure watching him walk away.

He was brought back to reality by his partner smacking him in the back of the head with a stack of paperwork. “Ow! What the fuck, Patil?”  

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed, looking even more exasperated with him than usual. “Every time he’s over here, you spend the rest of the day mooning, and he finally asks you out, and you say NO?!” 

“I do not moon!” He did moon, and he knew it, but he wasn’t about to say so. He still had his pride. “And he didn’t ask me out, either.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“He didn’t! He just said he had an available ticket! He very clearly had an opening to invite me, if he wanted to, and he very clearly didn’t.” There had been a number of moments like this, in recent months, and Parvati kept insisting that Harry was flirting with Draco. For his part, Draco kept insisting that she mind her own business, because she obviously could not read Harry Potter at all if she thought he was interested in Draco.

“You are an absolute moron.” Parvati shook her head in disbelief, but let it drop.

— 

They made the bust on Tuesday. Monday had been a rush of preparations and contingency planning and final logistics, and the stakeout had lasted all day, but in the end, it had been worth it—they’d brought in six players in one sweep and were confident that at least one of them would give up the rest in exchange for sentencing leniency. Draco had dropped into bed exhausted but elated.

He was still riding high when he sauntered into Harry and Weasley’s office on Wednesday. He leaned ostentatiously over Harry’s desk, stretching almost directly over his perpetually-tousled head to grab a piece of chalk and carefully add six perfectly straight tally marks to his own side of the board, giving him the lead by three. 

“And that’s how you do it,” he gloated as he straightened, smirking smugly down at Harry. “Suck it, Potter.”

Across the office, he heard Weasley groan and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like ‘he wishes’ under his breath. Harry looked a bit pink, but still smirked right back up at Draco, so it was probably just the heat. “Played that one close to the chest, didn’t you? But don’t worry, I’ve got something in the pipeline. I’ll be back on top before you know it.”

In Draco’s peripheral vision, he saw Weasley bang his head against his desk. “I’m getting tea,” he announced, stalking out of the office. Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter, who shrugged. 

Now that he was here, Draco didn’t quite want to leave yet, so he searched for something else to talk about. “How was the game?” he finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, the Quidditch game. Yeah, I didn’t end up going, actually.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, not making eye contact. “Wasn’t really in the mood.” 

Draco wrinkled his brow, not really sure what to make of that, but then Harry asked a question about the potions bust, and Draco forgot about it, instead focusing on a dramatic retelling of his glorious victory.

— 

Harry’s next arrest came after a particularly brutal double homicide. It was all anyone was talking about when he arrived that morning, but, despite Draco’s expectations (and perhaps anticipation), Harry didn’t appear at his desk to brag about it. He was feeling a bit anxious by the time he finally saw him passing by his door in the late afternoon, and the feeling only grew when he did. Harry had bags under his eyes, and his usually confident posture was slumped. He didn’t look as though he had slept. He also didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Hey,” Draco said, rising from his desk to catch him before he passed by completely. “Haven’t seen you today.” Are you okay?, he didn’t say, but he thought it was probably audible in his tone anyway.

“Oh. Hey, Draco.” Harry looked up at him, seeming a little lost. He looked hollow behind his eyes, and Draco could feel his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Yeah, I’ve been…” he trailed off and glanced past Draco, into his office, to where the chalkboard hung prominently on the back wall. He seemed to curl even further in on himself. “I don’t want to count this one, okay?” he said, finally. “It doesn’t really feel like a victory.”

“Yeah, of course,” Draco said immediately, and he suddenly felt completely helpless. “Can I—” he hesitated, and then put a tentative hand on Harry’s slumped shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

He was half sure that Harry would pull away from his touch, but he didn’t. If anything, he seemed almost to relax into it. “I’m okay,” he said, and it wasn’t convincing, but Draco didn’t want to push it. “Thanks, though.” He reached up and gripped Draco’s hand where it lay on his shoulder, so briefly that his hand was gone before Draco could even fully register it, and then stepped back, continuing on his way.

Draco stood and stared at the chalkboard for a while when he got back to his desk. Then, he picked up his eraser and carefully removed one tally from his own side.

— 

Their next bust, they were on together. A small Neo-Death Eater group that the department had been keeping an eye on, but who hadn’t done much of anything until now, had suddenly decided to make a grand statement by threatening a large-scale attack on Diagon Alley if their (entirely insane) demands weren’t met. Needless to say, the Ministry was not interested in negotiation, and the whole Auror force had been called out en masse. 

Somehow, Harry and Weasley had ended up working in tandem with Draco and Parvati, and now Harry and Draco were back to back in a dead-end alley, dueling a pair that seemed to be the last desperate stragglers, while Parvati watched the street, ready to block anyone who might try to interfere, and Weasley stood to the side, clutching his ribs and sweating but still managing to hold a fairly steady shield charm. There was an unconscious, Incarcerous-ed body on the ground near him; his Stunner’s aim had been true, but the assailant had gotten off one last hex before it hit. He wasn’t in imminent danger—Draco had been hit by the same spell before, and it was extremely painful but didn’t cause any lasting damage once reversed—and although that would be easy enough to do, they didn’t have a wand to spare at the moment.

Harry and Draco worked together like they’d been born to it, and if their respective partnerships hadn’t been working so well for so long, Draco might have considered it a waste that they weren’t paired together. Spells flew around them like fireworks, and they cast and dodged and shielded and attacked without speaking, without pause, until, suddenly, it was over. 

“Ron!” Harry cried as soon as his wand dropped, but Parvati was already by his side, countering the spell, and Ron’s body relaxed almost immediately.

“I’m fine, mate. Great work.” 

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and then turned to Draco, chest still heaving with exertion. Draco couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face even as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel sweat tracking down his face, his neck, his back, and he was streaked with dirt and—he suspected—blood; but they had won, and no one had died, and he was almost high on the rush of it. “I’m not sure who those count for,” he said, half laughing. “It happened too fast. Did you catch who took them down?”

Harry was grinning now, too, the buzzing energy of their win almost visibly coursing through him. He beamed at Draco, and he looked so fucking beautiful, even though he was just as dirty and dishevled as Draco was, that Draco couldn’t help but glance, just for a second, at those lips that he’d surreptitiously observed for so long as they stretched wide with joy. When he snapped his eyes back up, however, it was clear that Harry had seen, because the smile had morphed into something that Draco couldn’t put a name to, and his eyes were searching Draco’s for something. And then— 

“Fuck it,” he heard Harry say, and then there were hands on either side of his head and he was being—quite thoroughly—kissed, right there in the alley. He melted into it immediately, pulling Harry closer to himself almost instinctively. There was an iron tang of blood as their tongues met, and Draco wasn’t sure whose it was, but he didn’t particularly care. He didn’t care about much of anything, right now, besides Harry’s hands, and Harry’s lips, and the press of Harry’s chest and hips against his own, and whether Harry might want to reenact this moment later but somewhere with a bed and a lot less clothes.

“I TOLD YOU!” Parvati yelled triumphantly in the background.

“Fucking finally.” Ron sounded both amused and exasperated.

Draco ignored them in favor of sliding his hands into Harry’s birdsnest of hair, pulling lightly and making him groan into the kiss. He supposed this one counted as a win for both of them.

Also on AO3

[buzzcutperfection]

Plain Ridge High: Nick

It was the early fall which meant a new year of school. Time for summer to draw to a close, no more late-night swims and weekend barbecues. Back the usual grind for five days a week, seven hours of the day for the young men at Plain Ridge High Academy for Boys. But this would be the last year of this usual song-and-dance for the seniors, before they all set off next spring into whatever their life had in store for them: college, work, or service. So it was important that these young men make the most out of the next ten months of their young lives before the real world set in to motion. Nick was a budding student and a bit of an athlete, although perhaps more of a student than an athlete when you took once glance at him. He had big, black thick-rimmed glasses that definitely caught everyone’s attention when you passed him in the hallways. Having suffered the early years at this school not being called Four Eyes but rather Bug Eyes. But he just smiled and got on with it, there were worst names to be called he supposed, right? Better they called him out for that rather than his butt-chin, with the little dimple there. Although some girls might have found it cute, he didn’t get to endure the other sex’s sensitivity and support while at Plain Ridge High during the weekdays. So, just grin and bare it, as he always said. Even if the glasses may have made him a complete dork on the face side of things, at least he had his beautiful blonde locks on the top of his head. Perfectly coiffed up and over, with a hard part on his left side, combed down and then tapered very gently almost to the skin on the sides and back. A nice and clean look he had to maintain to have a very gentleman like appearance, both for the sake of his school and his parents who were filled with pride of all the things their boy might do one day. Thus every morning he took the time after his shower to perfectly comb the strands into place, applying some gel and oil that way they may stay strong and spiffy all day long as he went about his business and then afterwards for activities. He had some prospects of places he’d like to go to college next fall, all thinking more in the academic realm of things. Its not that he didn’t want to play basketball, but being just shy of six foot tall and never feeling the urge to be actively recruited by university scouts, he had always settled on his studies for the future. Right now, the sport was for fun and to have consistent friends. He would plan this fall though, now having his own car he earned from hard work all summer, to spend a lot more time playing with some of the guys after school, keeping himself going, maybe even try to get himself to go on solo runs in the morning before heading to school. Anything to stay in shape and have a good season ahead of him for his senior year. Memorable and enjoyable! Nick was walking through the halls with his books and bag on the first day of school when he came across his basketball coach and stopped to chat with him. His coach asking how his summer was, Nick asking likewise, the two of them going back and forth discussing any trips they may have gone on with their families, how it was time to get back down to school business. Coach asking if Nick was excited to be a senior, what his plans were, thoughts on the upcoming season of basketball. "You know Nick, I know basketball is still a season away. But still something to think about." "I know, I definitely want to make sure that I keep myself in shape and don’t slack off too much until then," he laughed. "Atta boy," his coach slapped his shoulder. "Might I even suggest a few things? Focus on some of the drills we had worked on at the end of last season. They’ll be good to think about and possibly help us strategize for plays to make and plan for the team. I know your more of a brains guy so we could use your help there." "I can work on that," Nick could definitely think back on how last season went and look towards what they could improve on, and especially what he could. "Great, I’d appreciate that," coach smiled. "Might I also suggest," he eyed up Nick now, "a tight butch before the season starts? I think you’d look sharp with one, think about it. I’ve always meant to say it to you. Its what my own boys used to wear when they were in season." "Oh," Nick felt speechless, "I’ll consider it, s-sir." "Fantastic, I’ll see ya around Nick," coach slapped him once again, this time on the back as he moved down the hall. A tight butch? What did that mean? Of course, Nick knew coach was referring to Nick’s hair. Wasn’t the first time someone had suggested Nick change up his hairstyle, the style he took such pride in grooming each day. He wasn’t even necessarily familiar with what a "butch" was, let alone a tight one. But he shook this notion off and headed for his homeroom classroom where a few of his buddies were already seated on tops of their desks or chairs, talking with each other. After the school bell rung to get everyone to their classes, and then the Pledge had been recited, and announcements made, their homeroom teacher began to hand out a few different flyers and papers to boys in the room. One of them was for their yearbook pictures which would be taken the following week. These would be their senior portraits too, the ones in the yearbook as well as ones they would give away to family and loved ones in the spring, in either large frames or little wallet size portraits. Vintage photos on the flyer showing young men looking their best, extra sharp. Nick adjusted his glasses a bit, felt his throat lump up for a second, taking this all in. Pictures next week, coach’s comment in the hall just moments before. Maybe waiting for the basketball season for this supposed tight butch cut might not have to happen. Why wait until then when he could do it now for his portraits? Besides, coach said he always could see Nick having a haircut like that. Maybe it was meant to be? Nick went home that day after school, had dinner with his folks, showed them all the things he got on his first day, having them sign what was necessary that he could bring back to his teachers tomorrow, before the weekend would start after the last bell. That night, before going to bed, he looked at himself in the mirror a little closer than usual, sifted his hands through his luscious locks, some of the strands still firm and stiff from the product earlier that morning, holding the outer shell of his hair in place like a piece of chocolate or something. And then the thickness within Nick’s scalp, soft and smooth strands that kept all the weight together and in proportion. His hard part still in tact like usual, he really did take good care of his hair! But at the same time, some of these hairs had probably become so toxic from all the product he put in daily, they probably weren’t the healthiest. He ought to not overdue it so much, but he couldn’t help himself. Nick liked everything in place. And besides, if he didn’t smooth it all out, to him at least in the mirror, his hair looked like it was going to frizz out. Hence why he took the time to keep it in check. But what about the new style coach had suggested? What would that be like? Maybe he wouldn’t have to use so much product anymore. Maybe a little less product would do him some good, and not in a money sense, but health wise. He did sometimes feel when he would sweat a lot during basketball practice or games that he could almost smell the hair oil from the droplets down his forehead and sides of his face. Maybe he would have to take coach’s advice? Even though, he wasn’t all that sure what a tight butch entailed, and Nick was a little nervous to ask his dad, or any of his friends the next day at school. Just because he didn’t want to have to deal with any of their reactions. He would just see what the weekend brought, and then he’d make his decision. Saturday morning was filled with an early pick-up game of basketball with some of the guys on his team and other kids they knew that did not play a fall sport and had the time to meet up. They met at one of the local parks and took over one of the courts and played for nearly three hours! It was a lot of fun but a lot of sweating, Nick was definitely feeling it. He’d also not applied too much product to his hair that morning, just to see how he would fair. And as expected, he definitely felt like his blonde hair was starting to curl and whack out of shape. What he gets for not carefully grooming it all back like usual. But who was to say it would have stayed in check anyways? They played a lot of basketball and it was getting hotter and hotter by the time it was after twelve and everyone had to call it quits, either get home for lunch or going somewhere like a family function or something. When Nick got back home, his parents were both out, running separate errands, saying they’d be back later though. Nick took a quick shower after having a small sandwich just to eat something. As he stepped out of the shower, he towel dried his hair off until it felt like there was not a wet droplet up there. When he looked at himself in the mirror with his glasses back on, he could tell how wide his hair had gone from the towel rubbing. He got out a brush and began to comb it all back and up, trying to get things in place. Some of the hair was able to relax down, but it still all looked massive and big. Like one big floof like a dog on top of his head! Man, he needed to do something about it. He immediately went to grab some of his usual products but he refrained himself, perhaps it was a sign. Not a sign to take this mess, but to do something more serious about it. The hair oil and gel wasn’t gonna cut it…literally. Nick quickly changed into a pair of shorts and a clean t-shirt before he headed downstairs, grabbed his car keys and then headed on out. He knew exactly where he was going and wasn’t going to change his mind at this point. His mind had finally been made up, time to put it into action. Nick parked out front of Towne Barbers, knowing that on a Saturday afternoon he might have to wait a bit for a barber. But that was not an issue with him, not like he hadn’t been used to that most his life coming here with his father. All part of the tradition of getting a haircut after all, especially at a real barber shop, right? The men cutting the hair of the men seated in their chairs, testosterone and barbecide in the air like it were the pollen in spring, just effortlessly and naturally existing with the atmosphere. Truly just part of the man’s-man experience, right? So Nick swung open the front door, the bell dinging off to signal a newcomer. He was surprised to find all of the barbers working away at clients in their chairs, and only a couple of gentlemen waiting across the way in the foldable chairs against the wall opposite. He plopped a seat and waited his turn, taking in the surroundings, barbers conversing with clients, barbers conversing with neighboring barbers, everyone getting in on one whole conversation. Just the absolute place to be on a Saturday afternoon. Since Nick was the third guy in the waiting area, he thought he might have to wait a bit until he was called up to one of the chairs. But when he thought it was the second guy waiting’s turn, he deflected and told Nick to go on ahead of him, he was waiting on a different barber. This didn’t make Nick feel upset or scared though, the barber who was going to be servicing him today he had had on a number of occasions before, and he even remembered his name. Of course the usual "Wow you’ve gotten old" which was probably better than saying "Wow you’ve gotten big" which was only okay when you were a legit kid and not a teenager in high school. So the barber in his mid-forties caped Nick up in a white cape that the faintest gray pinstripes blended in that you might not have noticed from far away, but the white matching to the white tunics all the barbers were wearing today. Nick removed his bulky glasses from his face, his vision temporarily blurred for the duration of the haircut, but maybe that was for the best as what he was about to endure. "So Nick my boy, what are we thinking today? Usual short on the back and sides tapered down, and then we comb this rat’s nest into place with a bit of a trim as well," the barber felt through Nick’s hair that was now borderline blonde afro. "Actually, sir," Nick cleared his throat. "I was wondering something, my basketball coach suggested something a haircut for me, but I wasn’t so sure." "You’re over at the Academy, correct young man?" "I am, sir," Nick politely affirmed. "Ah, I know your coach, client of mine too, and his boys were when they used to live in town. Good man and family." "Ah, cool," Nick nodded. "Funny you say that, he said his sons used to have their hair cut like this. He said something about a tight butch?" For a second there, Nick almost swore that the barber was going to bust out in hysterical laughter, and he felt like he caught the neighboring barbers and clients listening in on their conversation now. Why was everyone so intuned? "Is that right what he suggested?" the barber tried to keep his cool. "Well, Nick, it would be very different from what you have had in the past and right now. You realize that?" "I figured it would be much like that," Nick sounded a little dejected. "But I feel like I need to do something about my hair, its definitely gotten out of control, and coach said it would be good for the season, even though I know I have a little while until then." "You’ve got that right, both good for the season and you have time. But maybe it would be worthwhile you gave it a try, you know? See if you actually liked it or not?" "Do you think it’s a good idea, sir?" Nick asked timidly. The barber smirked back at Nick in the mirror and said, "Well, we aren’t going to know unless we try, right young man?" "I suppose…" Nick wasn’t totally convinced. "Worth a try," the barber shrugged back, "Besides, we can both agree that your hair is definitely a little out of control today, and perhaps a nice, tight butch would allow your hair to be a little healthier. I can tell you use a lot of product daily." "I know, I’ve tried to be better about it, but I can’t help myself." "Well this cut would definitely help you in that dilemma, my boy." It would?! Now this caught Nick’s attention: "It would?" "Ain’t nothing better to help solve it, actually," the barber silently smirked again. "Alright, then, I’m in," Nick brightly smiled up and sat up a little straighter and upright in the chair. "That’s it then? You sure, son?" "One tight butch, please," Nick responded. "One tight butch coming up, then," the barber said. Nick sighed of relief, if this was going to help him use less product in his hair, allow it to maybe be a little more healthy, and then he wouldn’t deal with the mess he had right now, then maybe whatever this haircut was wouldn’t be so bad at all! Nick completely ignored the barber firing up the clippers, just assuming he was going to begin tapering the sides and back of Nick. The fast-feeding clippers with their metal teeth had no extra guard in them, so Nick thought nothing of what was about to happen, as the barber placed them at the top of Nick’s forehead and slowly peeled towards the crown. As the barber made the first swipe across the center towards the back, Nick could feel a sensation like never before as the clippers made contact with his defenseless blonde hair. Those once beautiful strands were no match for the machine making its way through them, like a plow in winter! Nick felt the clippers tear right down the middle, reducing him down to nearly stubble. It couldn’t have been more than a #1 guard on their, if even that. For the feeling the clippers gave off as it did its damage felt frightening yet also releasing. As the barber came back to the front and plowed through once again, making another swipe towards the crown. Now Nick was totally in sync with the whole moment as the barber continued to buzz him down. The blonde hair falling off and down onto the cape and floor, lifeless and limp. Left in their wake was the now short roots of Nick’s hair, almost making him look more like a brunette rather than a blonde for the first time in his life. Like all he was going to have on top of his head was five o’clock shadow! With each movement, the barber continued to reduce the top of Nick’s head down to stubble, with him having to sit there and just grin and bare it like he was always good at with everything in life. He couldn’t really see all that well with his glasses removed but he knew this was definitely going to give him a completely new look, and one that required less fuss after the shower with sadly no hair products whatsoever now. Not what he had in mind, but then again, he wasn’t familiar with a butch cut and had never endured a summer buzzcut as a child. And the word "tight" included, well, boy was Nick naïve. He should have seen something like this coming a mile off. "That’s it, this will keep you nice and cool through the fall," the barber said as he came back across the top to double check his work. Nick was half afraid he was going to find more hair to carve out and away, but thankfully the barber was just doing a good job of making sure that he got every little hair and nick in place, down to the short uniform length that Nick wasn’t even sure he could consider bristles. He wanted to touch the top of his head but he figured he’d wait and hold out. The barber clipped back more off the top of Nick’s head, the tickling sensation he felt as the clippers would go across a section that had already been buzzed down, almost like one of those vibrating tools old people used. And then when it came across a new patch that hadn’t been turned over yet, Nick could feel it in the root of his scalp as well as his soul. The hair surrendering to those fast-feeding clips, making quick work and no turning back. Nick felt those hair fall off like daisies in the spring, as if it was all natural having a haircut just like this. Well, he supposed it was when you used the clippers like this! Even though Nick couldn’t totally make out the sight of himself in the mirror, he was certain he looked a little funny right about now, the top of his head clipped down severely while he still had some hair on the sides and back of his head. But it wasn’t long until the barber asked him, "Head forward and down, son, please," and Nick quickly obeyed as the barber brought the clippers behind and soared them right through the center and back. Wow! That was quite the feeling. Of course Nick had had his hair cut short on the sides and back for quite a while now, but this was a whole new world as the hair in the back was reduced down to the same length as it was on top. This really was going to be a short haircut, and he figured he was lucky he wasn’t going to be completely bald in the back and sides at least. The barber cleared out the rest of the back before moving to Nick’s left side where the hard part always was. Well, no more of that pruning and prancing into place in the morning. Nick caught in the mirror remnants of that hard part fall down onto his shoulder and then slide down to the edge of his cape as the barber moved the clippers through the left side like it was nothing. At this point, Nick finally shrugged and relaxed in the chair, knowing that this was the new look he was going to have to get used to. And for some reason, he was sort of glad he was getting it. Then the barber clipped off the right side, bringing the haircut near its close before he squared off and lined up the back of Nick’s neckline and then edged off the clippers towards the top of Nick’s ears, maybe a bit shorter than he would have liked but perhaps that was what it was meant to be like for this haircut. Nick didn’t know, he didn’t even know what the haircut was going to be like in general! And here he was, scalped down so severely he didn’t think his family or friends would even recognize him. Then the barber brought out the tools for the hot towel and shave around Nick’s neckline and ears, he always liked that most about coming to Towne Barbers. It just added again to the whole ambiance of this place. And here Nick was, getting a real man’s haircut too! The barber applied the warm and sweet smelling foam to Nick’s skin, attached a new blade for the straight edge razor, and began to quickly swipe and clean up around Nick to edge him out and clean him off even sharper. Then the barber applied some of that strong smelling and itchy tonic to the places where he had shaved around Nick’s new cut, then with those oily hands rubbed all across the top of Nick’s head, which did to be honest sting a little, making sure that everything was good and there wasn’t a single short strand out of place. "Alright there, Nick, one tight butch for you and the coach," the barber released the cape from Nick’s neck, and the client was finally able to bring the glasses back up to his face and inspect his new look. Woah….just woah…it really was short, even shorter now that everything came into focus. Now way was he going to have to worry about anything being out of place. Nick took his right hand and slowly grazed it across the top of his head. The short little spikes that were so close to the skin made the hair on Nick’s arms stand up as he rubbed his palm up against them. This was going to definitely take some getting used to. Especially because now he felt like his glasses really stood out with the lack of hair on his head, oh man. But, one thing was for sure, the barber had done a great job. No denying of that, this was truly one tight cut! Nick finally stood up and shook the barber’s hand and said, "Thank you sir, just what I wanted," and he couldn’t believe he had even said that last half. They went up to the front so Nick could pay and tip the barber and then be on his way. When he got home afterwards, both his parents were home and totally blown away by his new appearance. They asked why he had done it, he said it had been suggested to him by coach, but he hadn’t known what a tight butch would entail. This made both his parents laugh, but they said it did really look good on him. His mom even suggested maybe he’d consider getting contact lenses now, which did turn on a light bulb in Nick’s brain. To avoid the big bulky glasses still on his face. But that would be another problem for another day. Until senior photos were next week, and he hadn’t even thought about it, rushing from his class to his assigned time for his portrait. Sitting there on the stool in his good suit as the photographer positioned him correctly before a few clicks of the camera. Complimenting Nick that he looked swell. After the portraits being done, Nick stepped off and passed a few other boys waiting in the queues, some of them who also had been severely barbered down this weekend as well. At least he wasn’t the only one with a short cut. "Nice cut, dork, they match your frames real well," one of the guys in a posy of others joked. When he said that, Nick reached his hands to his face so fast, realizing that he had his glasses on for his senior portraits, along with this short haircut. It hadn’t even dawned on him to remove them for pictures sake, he should have! Maybe the contact lenses wouldn’t be needed, because now his senior portraits were of him, with his new short haircut, and his thick-rimmed glasses. Oh brother… But one positive came out of it, that first week of the short haircut, Nick felt a lot cooler, no longer stressing about his hair in place. He even started to go for two mile runs in the morning in his neighborhood before going to school. And a quick shower and towel dry off, man, his hair was done like magic. No need to mess around with any products. It tempted Nick to throw away all those old products he still had in his medicine cabinet in his bathroom. But maybe he wouldn’t, save them as keepsakes, of old memories. Perhaps before college he would finally toss them out or something. As he continued to stare at the new him throughout the fall, making more frequent trips to Towne Barber and being taken down to the tight butch cut he was sticking with, and his body starting to fill out more and more from all his workouts. The glasses weren’t really a problem in the end, he did need them after all. They were just another part of his identity, like everything else. If anything, he was going to keep them. He could see clearly with them both literally and figuratively, change was good.

Originally Written by: Armando94

from haircutstory.net

https://haircutstory.net/index.php?mode=2&storyid=3451

[buckyownsmylife]

Count the Shadows - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky wants you to sit on his face.

Warnings: smut, a more dominant reader than I’m used to writing, pining!Bucky, all of the good stuff, second hand embarassment

A/N: so... this is a gift to @navegandoaciegas. She gave me the idea for the Graveyard series ending, and that actually inspired me to keep working on that fic that was supposed to only be a oneshot and then became the pride of my eye. I hope you don’t mind that I’m dedicating this to her 😅 It also allowed me to explore some new kinks that might be appearing thanks to her writing and so really, I felt like this had to see the light of day. But really, if it weren’t for @world-of-aus, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ and @awesomerextyphoon​‘s support, I probably never would have had the courage to publish it, so thank you guys so much!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Friday nights at Stark tower meant that something out of the ordinary was about to happen, and I’d already grown used to it, after being a part of the Avengers for the last two months. However, that didn’t mean that the prospect of a night planned by Tony Stark didn’t bring me a hell of a lot of anxiety, to the point where sometimes I’d catch myself wishing for a simple recon mission to take me away for the weekend. 

Despite all of my fears and discomfort, I’d been lucky so far. Not once had his attentions turned towards me, and he never even so much as called me to dance with him during one of the raves he liked to organize, so I was able to slip by unnoticed, seizing the opportunity to drink the good (expensive) booze and talk to my friends before retiring for the night.

By Wednesday that week, it was clear that the same couldn’t be said about the next event he’d be hosting.

“Say, Y/L/N, have I thrown you a welcome party?” Was my rude awakening on that fateful morning. Until his arrival, I’d been happily whipping up some pancakes for the supersoldiers and Sam, my morning run partners. The moment his question was processed in my brain however, I froze on my spot, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Oh, now, don’t give me that look. When have I ever thrown a bad party?”

Bucky choked on his coffee, and I immediately was by his side, lightly tapping his back to help him. “I guess this answers your question,” I joked, but with a serious face. Unfortunately, Tony simply rolled his eyes, too used to Bucky and I’s “antisocial behavior”, like he usually described, to give us any attention. “Okay, so maybe not bad, but if you’re going to throw a party using me as an excuse, I have at least one request. And it’s a dealbreaker for me.”

Something in my words truly interested Tony, because instead of brushing me off he actually turned to face me, raising his eyebrows in expectation. “So what you mean is that if I don’t give you what you want, you won’t join the party?”

I nodded, standing my ground. “That’s right.” Next to me, Bucky stood straighter in his chair. 

“Neither will I.” That brought a smile to my lips, and I turned to hug him quickly. 

“Thanks Buck,” I whispered in his ear, relishing in the way he always held onto my embrace just a second longer than I expected. It was always like this with us. Ever since I first noticed just how touch-starved the super soldier was, I’d find little excuses to touch him. And if I ever doubted my first assumption, the way he always chased away my warmth for just a second longer was enough to prove to me that I was doing something right.

“Very well,” Tony said after clearing his throat to regain my attention. “What’s your request?”

“Only the people who live in this tower can be invited.” I was expecting a lot of fuss from the billionaire, but surprisingly, all I got was a disappointed sigh.

“Figured as much. Okay, big shot. But here’s the deal: you’ll have to stay the entire night and participate in every game we decide to play.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my coffee. That sounded fair. “It’s a deal then! All you have to do is be here on Friday night, capisce? Don’t be late.”

I should have known something was up back then, but as it were, I was just happy that I was able to stop him from filling the Tower with people I didn’t know. Not only would it help to keep Bucky relaxed (and perhaps even allow him to enjoy himself for once!), it’d also help to keep myself relaxed. 

I’d never been one to enjoy big crowds, and I especially didn’t want to celebrate joining the team with people who weren’t even a part of it. It made sense. So when Friday night rolled around, it found me in a way better mood than I expected. I even accepted Nat’s suggestion and let her pick my clothes. I was feeling so great, in fact, that I felt bolder, brave enough to accept to wear a satin red dress with a deep neckline that seemed to be able to attract every man’s attention upon seeing me. 

Even Bucky seemed drawn to it. And I couldn’t deny that knowing I held that sort of power even to a man of his caliber, a man that attractive, made me feel even braver. But with braveness comes stupidity, and I was brutally reminded of that fact by Tony’s smug face when I heard the dare he had for me.

Listen, I would have never accepted the idea of fucking truth or dare if it wasn’t for this stupidly sexy dress. I mean, the powers that clothing can have… They can make you blind with clout. That’s the only way I could justify what happened next.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I argued, much to Tony’s (and the rest of the team’s) amusement. Each and every single one of them looked at me with barely contained laughter, with the exception of Bucky, apparently.

“Careful, sweetheart… The dare’s already on and that wasn’t very sexy of you.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I very carefully thought out my gameplay here. I could very well retreat to my bedroom and go to sleep. But then again, this whole night had been so fun, and Tony had been really nice to abide by my wishes to only invite people that I knew…

“Fine. I’ll spend the rest of the night being as blunt as possible as I hit on you guys. After all, this is probably the only way you’ll ever get to hear me talking dirty, huh?” And with a wink in Tony’s direction, I resigned myself to face the challenge ahead. “So, let’s get on with this orgy, shall we?”

Bucky’s P.O.V.

It’s not that I was jealous. Of course, I wasn’t jealous. It’s just… hearing her say those things in front of everyone else made my blood boil like nothing else. I knew it wasn’t my place to feel this way. It’s not like she owed me anything, much less attention. As much as I wanted, she wasn’t mine, or even close to that.

Despite being head over heels in love with her, I still hadn’t gathered enough courage to even ask her out for a cup of coffee - or anything else, for that matter. And the worst part was that everyone but her seemed to know about my feelings. Which made this whole night even worse, since I was pretty sure Tony had done all of this on purpose.

So I had to sit through a lot of “Oh, please fuck me”, and “I wouldn’t kick you out of bed,” none of which were addressed to me - and those were the least graphic ones. I couldn’t really blame her, since I hadn’t spoken a single word from the second this whole dare started, but still, I was sulking, and I knew it.

In fact, I was so lost inside my own head, that I didn’t even realize what had happened when she asked “Do you want me to sit on your face or what?” (which I’m pretty sure was directed to Sam) until a heavy silence took the place of the animated chatter that had been going on. Imagine my surprise when I realized everyone was staring at me.

“What?” I asked, my heart already beating out of control, looking from one face to the other in the hopes of grasping what I had lost in the conversation.

“You just said you wanted Y/N to sit on your face,” was the response I got, from no other than Sam himself, and if my heart had been pounding on my chest only seconds before, now it felt as if it had stopped altogether.

“You’re crazy,” I tried to joke, trying with all of my might not to look at the woman who was staring at me. I could feel her gaze on my face. It burned and I ached to look, to see what sort of expression she was wearing, but my anxiety was just too strong - stronger than my curiosity ever could be.

“I wish I was, man. But you literally just answered ‘Please sit on mine’ when she asked if she could sit on my face.” I was going to die. I was sure of it. My face felt so warm, there was no way I wouldn’t just spontaneously combust any second now.

The worst part was, I knew Sam was telling the truth. Because those were the precise words I thought the second that I heard the offer leave her beautiful lips. And now I didn’t know what to do.

“Fine, your room or mine?” She broke me out of my self-deprecating thoughts, surprising me so much that I automatically raised my eyes to meet hers, finding her looking down at me with a mischievous smirk on her lips. Was she joking? Was this part of the dare?

The room erupted on laughs and I forced myself to join them, praying to whoever was available up in the heavens that they would let me be and thankfully, soon enough, the conversation smoothly transitioned away from me and my stupid malfunctioning. Y/N didn’t look in my direction again, which helped with my task of trying to get my breathing pattern into a normal one once more, and in a half hour people were breaking up into small groups and going back into their own rooms for the night.

I figured it was safe to do the same. So I got back to my bedroom’s floor with my hands buried deep in my pocket, trying to figure out what the hell had happened that night, when the door to my room suddenly opened and a tiny hand wrapped around my wrist, hauling me as best as they could into my own living quarters.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Bucky looked beyond surprised as he stared down at me with his mouth hanging open. I was tempted to tease him about letting flies in if he stayed like that, but I didn’t want to make this any more difficult for him than it clearly already would be. To be honest, I also had no idea how I’d been able to move that mountain of a man.

“What are you doing in my room?” Oh, right. That’s what he was concerned about. Fair enough.

“I wanted to show you something.” By the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally being able to say anything else, it was clear that it wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but then again, he obviously wasn’t expecting me to be in his room. 

“W-What?”

I grinned, immediately curling my fingers on the edge of my dress before promptly pulling it over my head and sending it flying across the room. Bucky’s jaw dropped, and it only made my smile grow bigger as I quickly got rid of my bra before finally doing the same to my underwear.

“What? Did you think I would let you suffer?” The poor thing, he didn’t seem capable of answering at all, eyes the size of plates as he stared at my naked body, practically drooling. I ran my hands over my breasts, cupping them slightly before trailing further down.

“Did you think I’d let Sam learn what my pussy tasted like? Or Steve? No, no, no, James. This is for you and you only.” Burying a finger inside of me, I made sure to let out my loudest, most pornographic moan as I slowly thrusted it once inside of me before raising it to his face.

“See how I’m soaked? I always get like this when I’m near you.” Bucky actually whimpered, knees faltering for a second as he reached out to grab a hold of himself with the wall next to us, and I laughed before raising a challenging eyebrow in his direction. “What are you waiting for? Get on your knees.”

My breath hitched as I watched the mountain of a man before me literally do exactly that, hypnotizingly staring at the space between my legs before slowly meeting my eyes with a look of pure need in his perfect face. Jesus. How the fuck was I supposed to control myself when he was looking at me like that?

I had gathered the sense that Bucky wanted me, that much became clear tonight, but I had no idea the extent of his desire until just then. Until he looked at me with pupils dilated from under his stupidly long eyelashes, breath coming out from his open mouth like he was desperate for me, desperate to taste what I had to offer.

He looked like he would do anything I asked him to in that second, and the feeling of power that thought gave me left me horny as nothing else. So my first order of business was to command, “Eat me.”

The second the words were out, it was clear that was all he was waiting to do what both of us so clearly wanted. Two strong hands grabbed me from behind and with that grasp of my ass, he pulled me to him until I was in fact seated on his face, wholly dependent on his muscular body to keep me up.

“Oh God,” he was the one to whisper, and a shiver ran through my body as he licked my pussy from clit to hole before diving in as if he was determined to rid me of all of my wetness - knowing fully well it was an impossible task.

Bucky Barnes didn’t need any guidance in the art of eating pussy, that quickly became clear to me, but I still felt the need to grab a hold of his hair just to help keep myself grounded into the reality of this moment. The way he moaned against my cunt at the action, the vibrations running through my body and making me tremble on top of him, certainly didn’t make me regret any part of my decision. It was clear he liked that sting of pain.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

I was having a hard time believing this was really happening, even though I had Y/N’s completely naked body on top of me, her cunt spread open by my own tongue, her juices covering every inch of my tongue. I couldn’t even convince myself to close my eyes to fully enjoy her taste, too preoccupied with memorizing every little thing about this moment. 

And the second she opened her eyes to find me already looking up at her, I was particularly glad for my decision, if only because I got to witness the delicious smile that took over her beautiful face before she grinded her pussy against my lips.

“Fuck, you look so good like this. I could get used to this.” A jolt ran through my body at the implications of what she was saying. Before I could even fully process it, I was already responding with the only thing that occupied my mind then, “Please do.”

If I thought I would scare her away with my desperation, a delighted giggle immediately managed to calm my nerves. “Do you always say what you’re thinking?” She asked, still rubbing herself against me, so it took me a while to be able to moan against her wetness an honest, “Yes.” When I did though, the vibrations managed to be exactly what she needed to gush her release onto my waiting mouth, making me growl in excitement. She was so fucking sweet. My cock was so fucking hard it hurt, but all I could think about was how much I wanted to pleasure her, how much I never wanted this night to end.

Unfortunately for my plans, she decided to climb down from me, eyes drinking my kneeling position while she caught her breath for a bit before she threw herself on my bed, feet on the mattress so I’d get a perfect vision of her perfect pussy. Hypnotized, I didn’t even notice I’d gotten up and approached her until her voice broke me out of my reverie.

“Would you like to take a picture?” I knew she was joking, but there was no way I’d miss the slightest possibility of getting at least a permanent reminder of this night, so I answered as truthfully as possible yet again, “Of course. Would you let me take one?”

I was expecting her to laugh it off and move this along, but once more her answer surprised me. “Only if you promise me you won’t use it to jerk off to.” The confusion must have been clear in my expression, because she quickly added, “That’s what I’m here for.”

My heartbeat picked up as I struggled to process her words. “D-Does this mean you’ll want to do this again?” I watched as a small smile grew on her lips and she sat up on the mattress before reaching out to me.

“Every night, if you’ll have me.”

Another moment of silence as I struggled to accept that this was real, that this was really happening. 

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t contain my delighted giggles at the lovestruck expression on Bucky’s eyes. But my need for him was growing deeper every second, so while he stared I reached out for his jeans, quickly managing to unzip them and push them down until I could wrap my hands around his member.

“Jesus, you’re so hard.” Even without any actual stimulation, apparently just giving me pleasure was enough to get him ready for me. I could barely wait to feel his cock inside of my pussy.

“I-I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered while climbing on the bed and settling between my thighs. “I’ve been dreaming about this for the longest time.” Gosh, could he be any more perfect?

“Well, it’s happening now, James. Please, please, fuck me. I need your cock in me.” His lips looked wet from our earlier activities, and my gaze immediately fell on them when he gasped at my words and the feeling of his cock rubbing on my pussy. When I positioned the head and pulled him closer to me, signaling what I wanted, he followed without any resistance, his entire body trembling as he struggled to keep himself up with both hands on either side of my head.

“You’re doing so great, baby. God, it feels so good to be with you like this.” Apparently, Bucky grew tired of fighting against his own body, since he allowed his massive frame to fall just over mine, resting his forehead on mine.

“Fuck.” Hearing the word whispered so close to me, his warm breath dancing over my skin, while he was effectively about to do just that, felt incredibly arousing for something so small. “It’s like I can’t get close enough to you.”

In the search to feel more connected to me, he finally started thrusting, and then it was like I’d forgotten to speak altogether. Only able to hold tight to those shoulders that tempted me for so long, I struggled to keep the moans and whimpers inside so I could continue to hear the little breathless whispers that he was releasing, almost like he was speaking to himself…

“So wet…” It all only made me more desperate for the enchanting man on top of me, so beautiful, and yet so insecure of his own allure. I hoped after tonight he’d start understanding just how attractive he truly was, at least to me.

“Bucky…” I managed to whisper, calling out for his attention and earning it when his eyes snapped open to meet mine. “Bucky, kiss me.” I needed to feel those lips against mine, to have that one sweet gesture of entwinement that we still hadn’t shared. Apparently, he felt the same need, because in a second, he was onto me, mouth slowly prying mine open so his tongue could explore yet another part of my body that now belonged to him.

By then, he couldn’t contain his moans anymore, and I was grateful that I was still able to keep mine low so I wouldn’t miss the symphony of whimpers and whines, especially after he pulled away to catch his breath and his eyes met mine.

“Fuck, darling…” Each sound from his lips made my pulse grow quicker, my body warmer, that incredible high closer and closer to me. And still, because I needed to tease him, I found myself saying, “For someone who was so embarrassed about the team knowing you wanted me, you surely can be loud.”

Bucky hid his head on the crook of my neck, making goosebumps rise all over my body as he rubbed his nose against my skin, breathing me in. If I thought it was a gesture of shyness, his next words assured me that wasn’t the case at all.

“I want them to hear. I want them to know I’m yours.” The confession had the fire of desire burning brighter inside of me, and my hands slipped around his back, certainly leaving nailprints behind.

“Oh, is that it? You’re mine now, James?” The thought thrilled me to no end, but I needed him to say it, not only because I wanted to be sure there was no uncertainty in his feelings for me, but also because it made me even weaker for the soldier and the dominance he had over my body.

“C-Can I be? Please?” There was so much vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes that the only answer I managed to give at first was the connection between our lips again, pulling him down to me so our bodies were completely glued to one another once more. My fingers buried in his locks, I pulled on them when I needed to gather some air, and finally give him an actual answer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Hell fucking yes. We’ll be the hottest couple on Earth.” A shiver went through my body at the realization that she truly wanted this, that she truly wanted me. A sound escaped my lips before I could realize, and in fact, I only noticed it because she broke me out of my reverie by saying, “You know, everytime you whine, I have the overwhelming urge to just tie you down to this bed and give you a reason to do so.”

Shit. This woman made me weak. And the moment I lost control of my own weight, she took advantage of it, inverting our positions so she was the one on top, while managing to keep my cock nestled deep inside of her.

“Do you want to cum, sweetheart?” Hearing the filthiness that spilled out of her lips only made me hotter and hotter, my hands flying up to hold her waist as she began to ride me. “Tell me just how badly you want it. Say it, or I’ll leave you right here, right on the edge of bliss, and I’ll cum on your thigh instead.”

I heaved loudly, trying to force my own tongue to work, but the sight of her breasts bouncing with her movements was too hypnotizing. I would never regain full control of my body again, I realized, for as long as she wanted to keep me around. But instead of feeling lost, like I did when the Winter Soldier took over, all I could feel was peace.

She wanted me. She wanted my body, my soul, every part of me. Despite every missing piece, every scar. Everything anyone had ever done to me, everything I’d done to so many. And I’d gladly give it all to her, forever.

“Please, please let me cum, ma’am.” The name left my lips before I could realize, but it made her smile. And right then, I knew I’d done the right thing. Her movements picked up, her hand searching mine to guide my thumb to meet her nub, and as soon as I started rubbing it, she gasped in the most melodic of sounds.

“Cum for me, James. I wanna feel you cumming inside of me.” Jesus fucking christ. I didn’t have a choice, my body reacting to her calling like she was a siren and I was helpless. I felt helpless. It wasn’t difficult to see that I liked it, though. I liked being under her control. I liked how she pulled me apart and held me in place all at the same time.

“If you don’t take your thumb away, so help me God.” Her voice broke me out of my thoughts, realizing her chest was heaving with the effort to breathe properly now that she’d reached her climax with me. I smiled sheepishly before adjusting on the bed, right when she climbed down from my body, and a whine escaped my chest despite my better wishes, making her look at me with an amused smile.

“I’m sorry, I just… I kinda miss you already.” Her smile grew bigger, her eyes twinkling under the moonlight as she leaned over me to kiss me, and I couldn’t help it. I just had to hug her closer, have her falling on top of my chest just so I could invert our positions and kiss her some more.

“I want something that’ll show them I’m yours.” I admitted once she pulled away to gather her breath, and her eyebrows rose in surprise, but also interest, I could tell.

“Like a collar?”

“I was thinking more like a love bite, but I don’t mind.” Her giggle was the most adorable sound in the universe, I was sure of it. 

“Baby, I’ll let you fuck me in front of them, if it’ll help your insecurity,” she soothed me, and the thought of having everyone see us together, fully understand that I belonged to her, electrified me. “You’re mine now. You can be damn sure if anyone tries to flirt with you, they’ll have to deal with me. And I’ll make sure they know I’m yours and only yours if they try to chat me up.”

The thought made me smile, and I laid back on the bed and pulled her to rest against my chest, my hand instinctively coming up to play with her hair. “I can get used to that.” We stayed like that for a while, just breathing in each other’s presences, relishing in the comfortable silence between us, until I felt the need to break it.

“Can I kiss you again?” I felt her smile against my skin, before she pushed away to reach for me and connect our lips once more. God, I don’t think I’d ever get used to knowing I could have this anytime I wanted. “One more,” I begged when she pulled away, and she pretended to think for a moment before shooting me a mischievous grin. 

“Only if you come fuck me in the shower.”

The only thing I could think to say in response, as I watched her strut in the direction of the bathroom, was “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

[musette22]

Local museum volunteer Chris explaining all the items and history facts to teacher Sebastian and his 20 kids on a school trip or to single dad Sebastian and his twins (one who is really into it and ask a lot of "but why?" And the other one who just sticks his fingers up his nose and yawns lmao)

Okay so I was just on a walk and I started thinking about this ask again (I am so so so sorry for how long it took me to reply to this, I suck wow) because I couldn’t get that new pic of Seb looking like a literal DILF out of my head, but I couldn’t remember the specifics so what came out is slightly different from what you suggested but not much – hope you still like it (I personally screamed into my fist multiples times while thinking about this – I’m furious at how cute this little scenario is, thank you so so much for this!)

Disclaimer: I literally wrote this just now so it’s unbeta’d and probably riddled with nonsense, but I hope you guys like nonetheless!  <3

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

“Hi, guys! Welcome to the Concord Museum. My name is Chris and I’ll be your guide this afternoon.”

Chris eyes the little family – a father and two young kids – standing in front of him in the entrance hall of the bite-sized museum, then makes a show of looking around the otherwise empty hall. “Seems like it’s a quiet one today, so you’ll have me all to yourself!”

The father smiles, his sparkling, blue-grey eyes crinkling in the corners in a way that Chris shouldn’t be thinking of as ‘adorable’, but does nonetheless.

“Fantastic,” the man says warmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Chris. This is Margot,” – he gestures to the girl of about eight standing next to him – “and this little guy here is David,” he adds, lightly bouncing the three or four-year-old, curly haired boy on his hip. David gives Chris a wide eyed look before promptly burying his face in his father’s neck. “He’s a little shy,” the dad says fondly.

“That’s fine,” Chris tells them. With a smile, he ducks his head to try and catch David’s eye. “You’re not the only one, kiddo. I’m a little shy myself sometimes, you know.”  

“I’m not shy,” Margot pipes up.

“No,” her dad agrees with a chuckle, “you certainly are not.”

Chris turns his eyes back to their father’s face. “And your name..?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man says, “I’m Sebastian.” He holds out his hand for Chris to shake, warm and dry with long, elegant fingers that fit nicely against Chris’s own, studier ones.

Sebastian, Chris thinks. Perfect name for a perfect guy. The term ‘DILF’ flashes unbidden through Chris’s mind – wildly inappropriate, given the circumstances, but oh so accurate. Sebastian has a sweet, charming smile, incredible bone structure, and dark, wavy hair, swept up in a quiff-like style that manages to make him look both sophisticated and a little boyish at the same time. There’s a hint of grey at his temples as well as in his beard that has Chris placing him at maybe two or three years older than himself.

“New York?” Chris guesses, as he reluctantly lets go of Sebastian’s hand.

“That’s right,” Sebastian nods. “Well, formerly, anyway. We just moved to the area, actually.”

“Oh, really? What brought you all the way out here?”

Sebastian runs a hand through his hair; a nervous habit, perhaps. “Oh, um. My ex-wife got a job in Boston last year, and I didn’t want to be too far from her and the kids, so I decided to follow suit. Only moved down here last month. This is my first full weekend with these guys at my new place, so I thought I’d take them out to do something cultural, learn a little about the local history, y’know?”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of that here,” Chris assures him. “In fact,” he adds sheepishly, “that’s kinda all we've got.”

Sebastian laughs, causing Chris’s brain to glitch, which is probably why the next thing that comes out of his mouth is – “Divorce, huh? I’m sorry, that must’ve been tough.”

When Sebastian doesn’t answer straight away, Chris wants to kick himself for running his big, stupid mouth. As usual. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes hastily. “That’s none of my business. Just tryin’ to make small talk, but I always seem to forget I’m really bad at that. Just forget I said anything.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sebastian assures him, flashing Chris a quick smile. “Thank you. These things are never easy, but it’s better this way, you know?”

“They’re not fighting or anything,” Margot chimes in again, from a few feet below. “Mommy and daddy only got divorced because mommy’s a girl and daddy likes boys better than girls. Right, daddy?"

Well. Chris tries not to be too obvious about glancing at Sebastian’s face to see his reaction to that bombshell his daughter just dropped, but he’s not sure how well he manages.

Sebastian closes his eyes for a moment as if praying for strength. “That's right, sweetheart,” he says with a grimace. “But I'm sure Chris doesn't need to hear about all that."

Chris begs to differ – he’s actually extremely interested in hearing about all this, but before he has a chance to say anything in reply, Margot squares her jaw and crosses her football jersey-clad arms.

“Why not?” she asks defiantly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Some girls just like girls and some boys like boys, it’s totally normal. It’s not prola- probu –" She sighs in frustration, looking up at her dad, who’s watching her with something like pride on his handsome face.

“Problematic?”

“Yeah,” Margot concurs, “not probametic.”  

Chris hums in agreement. “It’s not, you’re absolutely right. I’ll tell you what,” he tells her conspiratorially, “I happen to like boys better, too.”

Margot’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You do?”

“I do.”

Suddenly, Margot’s little face lights up, her shrewd eyes flitting to her dad’s face for a second, then back to Chris. “Do you like my dad?”

“Margot,” Sebastian cuts in, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “That’s enough, honey.” When he tuns back to Chris to give him an apologetic look, Chris can’t help but notice the slight blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m sorry about that. She’s gotten it into her head that she needs to find me the perfect man ASAP, or I’ll waste away or something.”

Chris laughs, throwing back his head in genuine mirth. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine,” he assures them, then claps his hands together to change the precarious subject. “So, who’s ready to learn a little bit about what living in Concord was like over a hundred years ago?”

******

Chris always enjoys volunteering at the museum – it’s nice to give something back to the community that’s been his home for his entire life, and to chat to visitors from all over who have come to visit the land of Little Women, among other things – but what Chris likes best is when he gets to show kids around the place. Some of them need to be won over (after all, a dusty old museum isn’t quite as exciting as a trip to Disney World), but others are instantly captivated by the strange objects and old-timey atmosphere – Sebastian’s kids, fortunately, seem to fall in the latter category.

There’s one room in particular that’s an invariably a favorite with kids – the one that houses the old children’s toys. Trains, dolls and dollhouses, most of them made from wood, all arranged in a colorful parade, with a few screens set up in front of the glass display cases on which kids can watch animations of the toys being used. To Chris’s delight, Margot and David are both immediately taken with the display, David pressing his nose against the glass while Margot fires off question after question that Chris answers patiently and to the best of his ability.

“You sure know a lot about them,” Sebastian remarks, not without a hint of admiration, once Chris has finished explaining the mechanics of the miniature train set.

“Ah.” Chris rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m something of a toy enthusiast myself. I’ve actually got a carpentry workshop – that’s my real job,” he explains. “I’m just a volunteer here – and I dabble in some toy making sometimes, too.”

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “You’re kidding. I used to want to be a toy maker when I was a kid, you know,” he says wistfully. “Probably just saw Pinocchio one too many times, but it just seemed like the best job in the world to me, at the time.”

“It kinda is,” Chris grins at Sebastian, getting lost in his dancing grey eyes for a moment. “So what did you end up doing for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m a journalist. I love it, don’t get me wrong. It’s enriching, challenging. But there’s just something about working with your hands, creating something tangible, something useful…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Chris nods. He bites his lip, hesitating for just a moment before deciding to bite the bullet. “Hey, I don’t know if you guys have plans after this, but my shift ends in a few minutes. I live pretty close, maybe a ten minute drive – if you want, I could show you my workshop? Maybe the kids can try out some of the things I’ve been working on, see if they’re actually any fun to play with?”

There’s an excited collective gasp from the kids, both of them immediately turning big, hopeful eyes on their father. “Oh, daddy,” Margot pleads, tugging on his sleeve. “Can we go see the workshop, pleaaase?”  

Chris tries to ignore the way his stomach drops when Sebastian visibly hesitates.

“I don’t know, guys.” Sebastian looks back at Chris. “I don't want to intrude. It’s almost dinner time on a Saturday. I’m sure you’ve got plans, maybe with your partner..?”

Oh, Chris thinks, chest expanding with hope. He shakes his head. “No partner,” he says, holding Sebastian’s gaze. “Just a dog.”

“A dog?” Margot squeals. “Oh my god, daddy, he’s got a dog. We have to go.”

Sebastian chuckles, rolling his eyes. "They've been hounding me about a dog for months, excuse the pun. I want one too, but I'm just not sure I'm home enough.”

Chris nods sympathetically. “Yeah, it can be tricky if you work full-time, but there’s usually a solution for this kind of thing, in my experience.”

“What’s your dog’s name?” Margot interrupts, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet.

“He’s called Dodger,” Chris tells her, unable to keep the pride out of his voice as he talks about his beloved, four legged-rescue.

From Sebastian’s other side, a small voice suddenly joins in. “Like the one from Oliver?” asks David. His big, brown eyes are wide as he stares up at Chris.

“That’s right,” Chris confirms, dropping to his haunches to level the playing field a little. “Exactly like the one from Oliver. You like that movie, huh?”

David nods, looping one arm around one of his dad’s long legs while clearly fighting the urge to hide behind him completely. “It’s my favorite,” he mutters, then quickly sticks his thumb in his mouth to signal the end of the conversation.

“Really?” Chris asks, beaming at him. “It’s my favorite, too!”

David actually smiles at that, doing an excited little wiggle on the spot. “Daddy, can we go see Dodger, please?” he asks his dad, not bothering to remove his thumb from his mouth.

From his spot on the floor, Chris looks up Sebastian too, probably looking just as hopeful as the kids are – maybe even more so.

Smiling, Sebastian shakes his head. “Sure, buddy,” he laughs, ruffling David’s hair. “How could I resist all these cute little faces, huh?”

There’s a chorus of cheers from the kids that gives Chris a much-needed moment to recover from the euphoria of hearing Sebastian call him cute. Well, sort of.

“Alright,” Chris says, getting to his feet again. “I’ll just go grab my things. Meet you guys in the parking lot?”

“Sounds good.”

Chris nods and is about to head in the direction of the staff room, when Sebastian halts him with a hand on his arm. Chris stops in his tracks, swallowing as he tears his gaze away from Sebastian’s elegant hand on his bicep, back to his face.

“Thank you,” Sebastian says, giving him a look from under his eyelashes that can only be described as coy. “I really appreciate this, you know.”

Holding Sebastian’s gaze, Chris lifts a hand to cover Sebastian’s with his own, giving it a quick squeeze. “It’s my pleasure,” he replies honestly. “Trust me.”

Smiling, Sebastian bites his lip, no doubt noticing the way Chris’s eyes flicker down to his mouth when he does. “I do.”

Chris’s foolishly romantic heart can’t help but skip a beat.

“See,” Margot says suddenly from beside them, breaking the moment and sounding awfully smug about it, too. “Not prolametic at all.”

Chris barks out a laugh while Sebastian covers his eyes with his hand. “Whatever you do, never have kids.”  

“Oh, I dunno,” Chris chuckles, giving Margot a wink and David’s hair a quick ruffle. “I kinda like yours.”

Sebastian clears his throat. “Alright, guys. Let’s go find your jackets and we’ll go see what Chris has in store for us, huh?”

[wonderful-wells-writing]

Fanclub; Chapter 1

EoWells x Reader

Some of the STAR Labs employees have a secret fanclub where they discuss Harrison Wells and share pictures they take when they think he isn't looking. Problem is it's not quite as secret as they think it is. The man himself seems to have taken an interest in the the little group, finding it to be the perfect place to find willing partners to satisfy his needs. And you're his next pick.

Work is dying down for the evening at STAR Labs. Chemists are checking that all the storage units are set to the proper temperatures. Engineers are making sure that everything that needs to be powered down is. Lab techs are cleaning up their stations. But nearly everybody is discussing their plans for the weekend.

There is one worker who is not engaging in such conversations. You are currently crammed between two sections of machinery, determined to get this wiring finished before leaving for the day. That way, Monday, bright and early your team can start doing test runs.

You are not engaging in conversation with others but rather are talking to yourself as you work. “Some red over here, blue wire over there.” Your grin would light up the room if anybody could see it. “I just love when a color-coded array comes together.” There’s a buzz on your right butt-cheek, and you squeal in surprise.

“Everything alright in there?” One of the other scientists looks up from the desk.

“Yeah, Bri,” you extract yourself from the machine parts. “My phone just went off, and I thought something shocked me.”

“Girl, I can not tell you how often that happens to me,” Bri takes her purse from a drawer and a jacket off the chair. “So, what are your plans for the weekend. More number crunching?”

You pull your phone from your back pocket. “Actually my college roommate is having a bachelorette party tonight. So I said I would swing by the bar for a bit.”

“Sounds fun,” Bri gives a wave before heading to the door. “Don’t party too hard.”

She returns the wave before opening a group chat app on her phone to see what the notification is about.

KittyCat42; O.M.G did you see Dr. Wells today? a shirt THAT tight can not be workplace appropriate!!!

Attached is a photo taken from a smartphone at an angle in which the subject does not seem to be aware their picture is being taken. Dr. Harrison Wells is leaning over a desk, examining something on a monitor. Kitty is right; his shirt is very tight, his biceps bulge through the long black sleeves.

You grin, considering sending a reply, but another message comes in first.

YummyBitch73; Think he’s got plans? Looking that good, he’s got to be going out tonight.

Your thumbs move across the screen to type a quick response.

BabyDoll14; Maybe he has a date tonight?

KittyCat42; wonder who the lucky girl is?

You lean against a nearby workbench, smirking at the screen.

---

On the other side of the lab, somebody picks up their phone to check the barrage of notifications coming in. They chuckle before adding their own two cents.

Speedy22: Hey, who knows, it could be a lucky guy.

YummyBitch73: Oh you wish, he is a lady killer through and through

BabyDoll14: I mean, who are we to judge if it’s a lucky lady or gent. Maybe he swings one way, maybe he swings both ways. Who cares, we’re just here to talk about his ass behind his back.

“Speedy’ nods, almost respecting the woman on the other side of the screen for staying objective about objectifying her boss.

Speedy22: Speaking of ass, I got this one yesterday

He opens his gallery and scrolls until an ‘appropriate picture is found. A nice shot of Dr. Wells from behind; the quality is incredible for a smartphone shot. The man’s shirt is riding up, showing a nice strip of the skin of his back, even a bit of where his boxers rise above the waistband of his hands.

YummyBitch73: Damn Speedy, you always get the good ones. You’ll have to teach me some photography lessons sometime.

KittyCat42: what kind of camera are you using? The quality is so gooooood.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice draws his attention away from his device. “Are you staying late again tonight?”

Harrison Wells takes a breath to look her up and down, mentally running through his mind all the employees to try and remember who it is at his office door. “I’ll be headed out soon; I just have to wrap some things up.”

He recalls who she is when he sees the look she’s giving him. Brianna Masters, a specialist working down in Lab C. She would have had to go out of her way to get to his office before leaving. Self-proclaimed president of the Dr. Wells Fanclub, he had just been interacting with the group chat of; after the former president left with a job offer at Mercury Labs. She had been making goo-goo eyes at him since her interview three months ago.

“Well,” Bri twirls a curl of her hair, fluttering her eyelashes. “Harrison, you know I was wondering if you might like to take me out to get some drinks tonight?”

Dr. Wells tries to hide his displeasure at the thought. She wasn’t his type, physically, mentally, emotionally, “I have plans in the morning that require a clear head. Miss. Masters. Now is there anything of importance that you need?” The man was not adverse to flights of fancy to pass the time; he wouldn’t be keeping an eye on the little Fanclub of his if he wasn’t willing to look for ‘interested parties,’ but this particular woman has been of no real interest to him.

For reasons such as how she pouts at his response, “Well, having fun is important.” She mutters before wandering off down the hall, turning her attention to her phone.

YummyBitch73; holy Shit! He just asked me out for drinks. It sucks so much that I have to drive out to Coast City; I”d have taken him up in a heartbeat otherwise.

----

Back in Lab C, you finally finish with the maintenance on the machine. You check your phone once more while heading over to the desk and nearly cackle at what you’re reading. Everybody knows that Bri is full of shit, but there’s no point in calling it out and causing discourse.

You mute the phone to focus on your computer. While humming a quiet tune, you work on moving files to the USB stick plugged into the monitor.

“Fuck,” you whisper, seeing the download time in comparison to the clock on the screen. Of course, you could just leave it be, take the weekend off. It’s not like you get paid extra to run calculations at home.

17 minutes later

“Nonononono, wait, please!” You’re half running to the street as the bus pulls away, leaving you in the illuminated circle of a streetlamp, cursing yourself. That was going to be the last bus coming this way for the night. If you walk home, you’ll never make it in time to change for the party. You might not even make the event at all. You pace up and down the sidewalk, contemplating your options.

A car pulls up beside you, tinted window rolling down, “Need a lift?”

You stop, shocked, “Oh, no I…” you pause, looking through the window, “Dr. Wells, hi...hey.” You swallow your pride. “I would really love to get a ride on-with, with you.” Internally you cringe at how that came out, but figure he probably wouldn’t have heard such a minor slip.

The lock clicks open, and you reach for the door.

“Maple Apartments on South 11th street, right?” Harrison glances at you as you get in the car.

You pause before shutting the door, “do I want to know how you know that?”

He laughs, and you jump a bit at it, “I can see how that would sound a little suspicious.” His smile is reassuring, and his blue eyes are kind behind his glasses. “It was on your registration forms when you started. I enter new employee data myself. Total recall can be useful even for small matters.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, shutting the door and buckling in. “I really appreciate this Dr. Wells, I would have been so late tonight if I didn’t get home to change soon.”

“Bit plans tonight?” Harrison asks as he starts driving. Truth is he had suspected you’d be missing her bus. He had seen you running after the last bus or driven past you walking home numerous times out his way out. You had quite the habit of working until the absolute last moment.

You smile, twiddling your thumbs to keep your hands occupied. “Yeah, I’m meeting a friend at the new bar that opened down the street from my place. She’s getting married soon, and since I can’t make the wedding, I promised I would spend at least a couple hours at her bachelorette party.” You aren’t exactly sure why you’re volunteering this information to your boss. It would be inappropriate to be so casual with him; then again, it’s also inappropriate to be part of a Fanclub that secretly takes pictures of him and talks about how great his ass looks.

Harrison ‘hmms’ in thought. “Why can’t you make it to the wedding?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, taking a moment to take in the way you sit, act, look, before returning his eyes to the road.

“Oh, they scheduled it for a Wednesday, so,” you look towards him just moments after he looks away. The first thing you notice is his hair; whenever you’ve seen him in the morning, it’s perfectly combed and straight, but it seems like as the day went on, it began to take on a life of its own. While the back is still nice and neat, the front is sticking out in all kinds of directions.

“You could have asked for the day off,” Dr. Wells offers, “Am I such a terrible boss that you think I”d deny you some vacation after all your hard work?”

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks at what seems to be a compliment to her work ethic, “Oh no, I don’t think that at all. It’s just that, well, we have so much work to do. Every day we get a little closer to your dreams of the particle accelerator, and I want to contribute absolutely everything I can to that dream.” You smile. “You’re going to do such incredible things for the world of science Dr. Wells, and I don’t want to waste any time that could be spent helping you.”

The man is somewhat stunned by this. He’d attributed her long hours and determination to personal ambition. “What about you? Do you want history to remember you for your achievements?”

You bite your lower lip in thought at the question, “I mean sure, it would be nice to be recognized for my contribution, but,” she takes a deep breath, “I’m more concerned about how my work will impact the world, not so much if I’m remembered for it. Anyways you’re the true genius. I can tell that STAR Labs will make big changes and put humanity on a path towards the future. As long as I get to be a part of that, it’s all I really need.”

Harrison does a low chuckle at your sentiment, amused by the naivety. You speak with such hope and wonder and admiration. If you knew the truth, how horrified would you be? The realization of the end goal of the particle accelerator, the effects across history that your determination would wreak.

He grins, “Well, I am glad to have such a dedicated employee, but I do believe that one off day is not going to hurt our progress.”

You purse your lips, “You don’t come down to Lab C very often; you’d be surprised how off the rails things can go when I’m not there. Anyways I would rather work than go to a wedding. It’s not my kind of scene.”

He can sense that you are holding something back but doesn’t press the issue any further. He’s reached your apartment building anyways.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to give you the time off,” he says as he parks.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reach for the door handle, “oh, and thank you so much for the ride. I really owe you one.”

Dr. Wells makes a mental note about cashing in that favor later. “You just stay safe and enjoy yourself tonight.” He smiles warmly at you as you wave goodbye, but when the door shuts, his grin turns a bit darker. He watches you walk away, eyes tracing the curve of your figure, resting on the beautiful shape of your rear, right up until you disappear into your building.

As he begins to drive away, he catches sight of himself in the rearview mirror. There is something about this form of his that seems to drive the ladies crazy, and he wasn’t opposed to taking advantage of that. While pulling back into the street and driving away, he thinks on his situation.

For 13 years now, Eobard Thawne has been trapped in this god-forsaken time period. For a while, he had focused solely on his mission, rarely interacting with others unless it served a greater purpose. But he was still a man, subject to desire. At first, it was almost enough to make him regret allowing Harrison Well’s wife to die, she could have filled his needs easily. But that woman had been intelligent; she’d have discovered his identity eventually, so allowing her to die had been for the best.

Still, after a few years of isolation, Thawne had found the need unbearable and began seeing ways to fill the hole that was forming in his chest. Little flings, one-off nights where he indulged his carnal side, allowed himself the pleasure of another’s body before quickly parting ways with them, when he discovered that a fanclub devoted to him had been formed amongst his employees, that made the whole thing easier.

Joining the group chat under a false name was easy enough. It inflated his ego every time he read them discussing how great they thought he looked, and he was more than happy to provide material for them to gush over. And with that, it was like he had been given a list of women who would fuck him with no questions asked. All he had to do was choose. Of course, he has to be wary of those who might get too clingy or go off telling other people. But it’s not that hard to week those types out of the pack.

Thawne notices magenta neon as he’s driving. A club with a grand opening sign out front. He smiles, knowing that now not only does he have a new prey lure in, but the perfect hunting ground as well.

[pufflyhallows]

Getaway

Gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Business is going bad after the war and Fred is not feeling so great, so you decide to cheer him up with a special trip.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, language, tiny tiny bit of angst, still fluffy tho

a/n: this is my FIRST smut EVER so... be nice? also, Fred fucking LIVES bc I’m in denial forever lol

Word count: 4,3k

********

You wanted to surprise Fred.

He had been feeling down lately. Ever since he and George reopened the shop after the war, things had been a little tough. The movement was still quite slow, given the fact that people were still recovering from the war, mourning their lost ones and starting new lives. It was a difficult time for everyone, and of course it affected Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes as well.

What ached your heart the most was the fact that there wasn’t much you could do to help him. Every day you watched as he took longer to get out of bed in the morning, how he sounded slower and quieter when talking to you and, the worst part, how he acted quite mechanic when doing his chores around the shop, the same ones he enjoyed so much in the past and had always gotten done with a bright smile on his face. And although he never stopped caring for you or being loving to you, the bedroom had become… inactive. And you missed it. You missed being intimate with your boyfriend, but every time you tried to initiate it, he would softly decline, claiming to be too tired. You believed it. You could see he was indeed exhausted. And not only physically, but mentally too. Perhaps the latter was actually the one weighing more.

George, however, was quite the opposite. He kept his optimism high and was always the first to wake up every morning, excited with the new day and new possibilities. He would often go out and promote the shop, talk to people and sometimes even manage to bring a customer in.

This big difference between them worried you. No, you did not expect the twins to act the same, but you hoped in secret that Fred would follow his brother’s steps and cheer up a bit.

Cheer up. Yeah. That was exactly what he needed. And what better way to cheer up someone than a surprise trip? That’s how you were going to take his mind off of work. With Hermione’s help, you planned a very romantic weekend trip out of town. You talked to George beforehand, of course, but he assured you he could take care of the shop by himself for two days. He agreed Fred needed this.

“It’s not like we’re getting many customers anyway,” he had said.

So, as Friday approached, you felt the excitement building up. You managed to act completely nonchalant around him, making sure he didn’t suspect a thing. It wasn’t a big, expensive hotel because you knew he would worry about money and that was the opposite of what you wanted for this trip. Hermione had helped you pick a small, comfy hotel that was quite charming and fit your pocket perfectly. You wanted to make sure Fred felt loved, cared for and relaxed. There was also a little extra surprise inside your suitcase that you really hoped he would like…

What you didn’t know was that Fred felt guilty. He reckoned he hadn’t been the boyfriend you deserved lately, but he couldn’t help it. The stress was almost eating him alive and his mind was always wandering back to the shop, worrying about its future. You had been so kind and patient with him, he knew you deserved better than that. The whole thing was snowballing and sometimes he couldn’t see it ending.

That Friday, when you got home from work, the shop was still open and there was actually a customer inside, talking with George. You felt relief wash over you, because you knew what that meant: Fred was probably in a good mood.

You walked straight to the flat, not daring to interrupt George, but you stopped in the middle of the stairs to watch. He was speaking with such enthusiasm, showing and explaining his products to the young boy, that it filled you with pride. You caught his eyes for a brief moment and noticed the smallest of smirks appear on his lips. Smiling back, you nodded at him. Fred was nowhere to be seen, though, so you went upstairs.

There was a delicious scent coming from the kitchen. The older twin was there, cooking. You smiled to yourself at the sight. His favorite The Weird Sisters record was playing somewhere in the flat, adding a familiar, comfortable feel to the whole scene. Fred’s back was facing you while he chopped… carrots? on the counter. He didn’t seem to notice your presence just yet, so you took advantage of that. Placing your bag on the nearest chair, you walked in quiet steps towards your boyfriend. The fresh mint aroma coming from him meant he had probably just showered. Oh, and how you missed showering with him.

You couldn’t refrain your smile from growing even bigger once you noticed Fred’s body was swinging from side to side, so imperceptibly that you almost missed it. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek on his back. You felt him tense up for a mere second before realizing who it was. He soon relaxed, letting go of the knife and placing his clean hand on yours.

“Didn’t hear you coming in,” he stated, voice low and raspy.

You hummed in response and placed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. Fred turned around and briefly met your lips with his.

“It’s gonna take a while. Why don’t you go take a bath?”

“I will,” you nodded, running your hand from his chest to his shoulder and squeezing it gently. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay”, you repeated. “Well, I hope I can make it better. I have a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I have an idea of how we can spend your days off.”

“Hm… Making plans already, are we?”

“Very good plans, yes. But you’ll have to wait until dinner.”

“Or you could tell me right now so I won’t have to.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirked and gave him another peck on the lips before rushing off the kitchen and leaving your boyfriend to his curiosity and imagination.

The warm bath made you think about a lot of things and you came to realize you were very lucky. The war was over and there you were, taking a bath in your boyfriend’s flat, the person you loved the most in the world. So many people lost their loved ones, their homes, their entire lives in that war. You knew you had many reasons to feel happy and should not take them for granted. Life was good for you right now, and you acknowledged it, promising to yourself that you were going to enjoy it the best you could, with Fred by your side.

George joined the two of you for dinner, which turned out to be the best you had in months. Not because of the food, although it was perfect, but because it felt like everything was back to normal, like all the meals you had shared before the war. Maybe it was the idea of a day off and the mention of a surprise from you, but you could see that Fred was already less gloomy or aloof.

After the meal, as if sensing you wanted to reveal your plans to Fred, George excused himself to his bedroom, claiming he still had to finish some work. You wished him goodnight, not missing the discrete wink he gave you.

“So…” you started, watching as Fred emptied his glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember when I said I had an idea on how to spend your days off?”

“Oh, yes. The surprise.”

“Well… I figured you could use a little rest from everything, so I made a reservation at a very nice hotel for the two of us to spend the weekend at.”

“You what?” Fred asked, a small smile starting to grace his lips.

“The portkey is set for our departure at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts,” you shook your head. “I have already packed our bags.”

“Y/N, doll, I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me I’m amazing, the best thing that ever happened to you, an angel sent from heaven…  Something humble like that.”

Fred chuckled, that contagious sound you missed hearing so much. “You’re amazing. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, a true angel sent from heaven.”

“I know! We’re gonna have so much fun,” you smiled excitedly, clasping your hands together.

“What exactly are your plans for us, though?” your boyfriend questioned, curiosity dripping from his lips.

“Oh, you’ll find out once we’re there.”

“The surprise doesn’t end here, I see.”

“Exactly. I have everything planned, baby.”

The look in Fred’s eyes seemed to indicate he had an idea of what you had planned, but he did not say a word about it. He would like to see the surprise reveal itself in the right moment. He wasn’t going to spoil your plans in any way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always had your doubts when it came to ads, but this time you had to admit this was spot on. The hotel looked exactly like its pictures and descriptions.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” the receptionist asked as soon as you stepped in the lobby.

It was something so small, so simple, but it made your heart flutter and stomach fill with those restless butterflies. Mrs. Weasley. Were you ever going to become that? You wondered if Fred even noticed the little misunderstanding.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Actually, it’s just one Weasley. Fred Weasley. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your slight flustered manner didn’t go unnoticed by Fred. Despite the obvious nervousness, he thought it was rather cute. In fact, he liked to hear you be called that. Perhaps he should do something about it…

“Oh, I apologize. Mr. Weasley and Miss Y/L/N,” the receptionist corrected herself as she checked the reservation’s book. “You’re right on time, your room is ready for you. I just need your wands for ID confirmation before I give you your key.”

Both of you handed your wands to the young woman behind the desk and she did as she was supposed to. Sooner than you had anticipated, you were in the lovely suite you had reserved.

Fred placed the small handbag on the bed – blessed be the extension charm, that’s all you had to carry for that trip – and walked around the room curiously. You went straight for the big window and opened the curtains. There it was. The view you had seen on the ad and that had made you instantly choose this hotel.

“Fred,” you called softly, looking behind you. “Come see.”

Your boyfriend let go of the catalog on the nightstand and approached you, eyeing the outside in awe.

“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

When making the reservation, you were met with the question: would you like a room with view to the street/village or to the beach? And you chose the beach, although the village was a lovely sight. Now, seeing Fred’s reaction, you were absolutely sure you had made the right choice.

The hotel was in a small village where both wizards and muggles lived. With a little help from magic, the wizards could go unnoticed and the muggles lived everyday life without a single clue of the existence of such peculiar neighbors. The beach was right behind the village, and your room being in the back of the hotel, you had a wonderful privileged view of nature’s beauty.

“Wanna go down there?” you asked.

“What’s in your plans?” he asked back, switching his gaze from the window to you.

“Beach,” you replied with a small smile. “Basically the entire day at the beach, lunch at a muggle restaurant down there too. But dinner here.”

“I’ll follow your script, doll.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his lips ever so gently on yours. You instantly let go of the curtains so you could run your fingers through his soft hair. The light fabric fell back to its place, covering the windows again and leaving the room a little darker than before. Fred’s gentle kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

No, not yet.

You broke the kiss and pulled back, biting your lip as you started to feel that you might not be able to wait until the right time for your surprise.

“I’m starving,” you whispered against his lips.

“Me too,” he pulled you closer again.

“Let’s go, then.” You managed to get out of his embrace and grab the handbag before heading to the bathroom to change into your bathing suit.

A hungry Fred was left standing by the big window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been hard.

It had been hard seeing you in so little clothing, dripping wet, skin glistening as droplets of water reflected the sunlight. But Fred managed.

All he had in his mind every time he saw you leaving the water was how he wanted to take you then and there. He had to distract himself from those thoughts, paying attention to what you were saying but not too much to your moving lips. He knew you had something planned and he was appreciative of how much effort you had put in this weekend for him. That was the only reason he wasn’t indulging to his not-so-pure thoughts.

Lunch was a good distraction too, specially since you had to convince a muggle child she had imagined it when she saw Fred stop his falling fork mid-air.

Now, as the two of you walked hand in hand back to the hotel, he wondered if he was going to be rewarded for the self-control test he had just passed. You were humming a song as you observed the houses, trying to guess which ones were muggles and which ones were wizards.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Dinner!” you answered excitedly. “But, if I were you, I wouldn’t go overboard.”

“Why, if I may ask?” but Fred already suspected why.

“Well… there might be plans for after dinner as well.”

Fred held your hand tighter and pulled you towards the hotel in a faster pace. You chuckled, feeling the excitement grow bigger and bigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dessert?” the waiter asked as he took the empty plates from your table.

“No, thank you,” Fred replied before you had the chance. “We’re calling it a night, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you smirked at your boyfriend before looking at the waiter. “I’d like chocolate pudding, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the waiter left, Fred gave you a look.

“What?” you asked nonchalantly.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t go overboard.”

“I’m not going overboard. I had a small plate,” you shrugged.

“Right,” Fred sighed, bouncing his leg under the table.

When your chocolate pudding came, you grabbed the spoon and took a small amount to your mouth. Fred watched your every move, arms crossed and brows slightly furrowed as he saw you slowly lick the spoon. You pretended you didn’t know he was watching, eyes on the tiny bowl in front of you, and you mouthed another spoon, unintentionally getting pudding all over your lips.

Your boyfriend gulped as he watched you run your thumb over your lower lip, getting rid of the chocolate there, and gently suck on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” you looked at him innocently.

“Just eat the damn thing.”

“You want some?” you raised the spoon at him.

“Yes, I want some.”

You felt your cheeks burn just a little bit with his remark, heart begin to race as the ideas for what you wanted to do to him tonight started to flood your mind.

“If you wait patiently, you might get what you want,” you teased, looking back at the bowl and already serving another spoon, which you quickly brought to your lips, licking all the content off of it.

Fred shook his head, one corner of his lips going upwards ever so slightly, eyes glued on you.

“You sure you don’t want to taste it?” you offered again, lips glistening as you cleaned them with your tongue.

“I will taste it,” his eyes pierced through your body and suddenly the hotel was too hot.

You had barely served the last spoon of pudding when Fred stood up and let the waiter know you were headed to the room.

“I haven’t finished yet,” you protested and he immediately took the last spoon from your hand and into his mouth.

“Now you have,” he said as he pulled you from the chair.

The way back to the suite felt much longer than it actually was, but as soon as you reached the door, Fred’s lips were on yours. You had trouble to get the key with your boyfriend’s hands all over you, pulling your body hard against his.

“Fred,” you breathed, stepping back. “There’s another surprise.”

Before he could say anything, you unlocked the door and went inside.

“Sit down,” you slowly pushed him to the bed. “And close your eyes.”

Fred complied with no protests, but you could see he was getting flustered, probably guessing what was coming.

You blew out most of the candles illuminating the room and left only a few to create the romantic atmosphere you wanted. You went to the bathroom and changed into the expensive lacy lingerie you had bought for this exact occasion. It was red, a color you had learned Fred was very fond of when it came to this kind of clothing, and had one small, delicate bow right between your breasts.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked from the bathroom, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” you heard in response.

“No peeking ‘til I tell you to,” you warned.

“…‘kay.”

You opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Fred was still sitting on the bed, one leg bouncing impatiently, and a slight frown between his eyebrows.

Slowly, you approached the bed and stood right in front of him.

“Open your eyes,” you whispered.

As soon as he did, Fred sucked in a shaky, quiet breath. He eyed you from head to toe, not hiding his astonishment.

“Baby,” he mumbled in a deep voice, already feeling his pants get a little too tight as his eyes still traveled through your entire figure.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip.

“Good,” you smiled, placing your hands on each of his shoulders. “Now let me show you how proud I am to be your girlfriend.”

Your lips met Fred’s in a slow, deep kiss as you climbed the bed and straddled him, your arms thrown around his neck. Fred let out a soft moan when he felt your weight against his lap, his hands going up your back, fingertips sending shivers down your spine as they searched for the bra clasp. However, you stopped them and placed them back on your hips.

“Not so fast,” you whispered against his lips.

Before he could protest, you kissed him again, now pushing him all the way back to lay down on the bed. Hovering above him, you started pulling up his shirt, which he quickly got rid of for you. You chuckled. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had missed this.

Now that you had free access to his torso, you began to place soft, wet kisses on his neck, slowly moving down to his chest and stomach, painfully taking your time.

You could feel Fred’s breathing get deeper and deeper as you kissed his abs, working your way down to his pants. Once there, you stopped the kisses for a brief moment, so you could focus on getting rid of that piece of fabric. Again, Fred quickly helped you out until you were both just in your underwear.

The sight sent goosebumps through your body and you inevitably bit your lower lip. He was already so hard, you felt the anticipation building up inside you.

You decided to torture him for a little bit – just a little bit – and carried on with the kisses, not taking off his underwear quite yet. However, Fred’s impatience was growing and he didn’t think he would manage to wait for too long. His hand found your hair and he started stroking it, running his fingers through it, a disguised way to guide your head to where he needed you the most. You realized his intentions, but you did not stop him. You let him take you where he wanted and soon your lips found his still covered length.

“Shit, Y/N.”

You smirked.

Slowly, you started pulling down the last piece of clothing until you completely freed him. He was so beautiful. You still had a silly smile on your face as you ran your tongue all the way up from the base to the tip, where you placed a gentle kiss. Fred’s soft moan reached your ears, a beautiful sound that made you even more wet.

You took him in your mouth and started sucking the tip in a slow, teasing pace, while your hand loosely stroked him. You didn’t want him to cum yet. You wanted him to last. And you were going to make him last.

Fred’s hand never left your hair, and he began to slightly pull it, asking for more. He needed more.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Y/N, please.”

You ignored him and kept going in that insanely slow pace, taking your time. What was the hurry?

You heard a low groan, and felt him move his hips against you. You stopped.

“Behave yourself, Weasley.”

“Baby… Please.”

You smirked again, giving him one last stroke, and you let go of him.

Fred looked at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. His eyes were dark, full of pure lust. But also desperation and discontent with the sudden lack of touch.

You crawled on the bed until your face was right above his, and you kissed him. It was a deep, passionate, hurried kiss between two people who were eager for each other. This time, you didn’t stop Fred’s hands from going up your back and unclasping your bra. He took it off and you quickly felt his left hand on your right breast, squeezing it. His right hand, however, was going up and down your side, sending shivers through your bare skin. He rested it on your waist for a little bit before going down to your ass and squeezing it tightly. You moaned against his lips, your own impatience growing.

You only stopped the kiss to get rid of your panties, the last piece of fabric separating you from him.

Fred watched as you got off of him and started to pull it down your smooth legs. He could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of your completely naked body. You were breathtakingly, heart-racingly beautiful. He loved the lingerie, he really did, but he loved your body a thousand times more. And he would never get tired of looking at it.

When you straddled him again, skin to skin now, he thought he would cum right then and there. You smiled at him, that beautiful smile that never changed, and kissed him one more time. Fred placed his hands on your waist, squeezing it gently, as if to encourage you. Not wasting another second, you guided his tip to your entrance and slowly sank down on him, allowing him to get all the way inside you, quite easily given how wet you were.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned.

Letting out your own whimpers, you placed your hands on his chest and started riding him, still slowly, still teasingly. Fred’s moans soon turned into groans, complaints. He was getting tired of the teasing, he was already on edge. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a swift move, Fred shifted the both of you so now he was on top. He started thrusting into you, quite roughly, earning a loud approving moan from you.

“Fred,” you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He kept going, pounding harder and harder, moaning as he did so.

You started kissing his neck, biting, sucking, anything that would leave a mark.

“Yes, baby,” you cried out as he thrusted even deeper.

The bed was making a discreet creaking sound that you weren’t sure if the people in the other rooms could hear. You hoped not, but honestly? Right now you didn’t care. The sound of Fred’s heavy breaths, moans, groans and whimpers were all you were paying attention to. Beautiful sounds that had the power to shut down anything else in your mind.

The rhythm he had created was sending you to heaven with every motion. His lips soon found your own again and he kissed you as if he hadn’t done it just minutes before.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m close.”

“Me too.”

As you felt your body tense, Fred came inside you with a low groan, slowing down just a tad bit. He kept thrusting, however, knowing you were about to reach your climax too. And not long after him, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, and your body relaxed completely.

Both of you were panting against each other’s neck, your arms still loosely around his shoulders as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on top of you.

Hugging him more tightly, you felt Fred leave small kisses on your neck, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the extra-tingly sensation. You started to run your fingernails up and down his back, the other hand caressing his hair.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the giggling of children playing down there, and the muffled music coming from the muggle restaurant. You felt so at ease.

After a long moment of peaceful, comforting silence, Fred looked up and smiled. “I love you so much.”

You smiled back. “I love you too.”

Not bad for round one.

********

[copias-thrall]

How would Mary goore react to hurting someone he genuinely cares about? I absolutely Love your writing!💕

Hello, nonny! Thank you, I love this ask!

This was going to be  alist, but it got away from me! 😅 

Enjoy 😘 

It wasn’t anything big.

Just a few of Mary’s favorite beers (the craft kind—not the shitty beer he drank on his shoestring budget), some of that chronic shit you’d scored and have been saving for a special occasion, and a VHS box set of horror movie classics.

***

Mary comes in and out of your life at will, and that was something you accepted—knowing he was As Is or not at all. And honestly—no, really—you liked that. You had your own shit going on, and being Mary’s expected caregiver was NOT something you wanted to add to that list.

(If someone else wanted to try to tame him and pick up after him, well…kudos to them. Less work for you.)

Mary showed up on your pivotal days and he rubbed your feet and always invited you out to trivia. You'd held him when he was coming down from a bad trip and listened to his grievances and gave him a place to stay when he was persona non grata at his own. And in a way, that made you always feel like #1 in Mary’s world…and that was good enough for you.

***

A few months ago, Mary had been lying on your couch, picking the label off his beer bottle.

“I’m gonna be away for a bit,” he’d said.

“Oh?” you’d responded as you’d mashed the controls on your gaming controller.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll be around…but I got some shit going on.”

You’d paused your game.

“Bad shit?”

He’d waved you off.

“Neg. Just tryna get myself out there. Signed up for open mics and shit.”

He’d shifted, his long legs receding from around you and folding under him.

“So, like…I got my job at the bowling alley…but nights and weekends are kinda shot.”

You’d tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. You supported Mary’s dreams, and that meant not making an issue that he was finally trying to do something about them.

This wasn’t against you. It was for him.

When you’d taken too long to respond, his face had scrunched.

“But if you want—”

“It’s fine, Mare,” you’d said as you’d made yourself smile. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”

You’d unpaused your game.

“Just don’t expect me to not beat this game without you.”

He’d grabbed the controller out of your hands with a snarl, causing you to cry out when you died.

“Fuck the game.” His hand had fisted your shirt. “Give me a night to remember.”

You had. Twice.

***

Mary had texted you occasionally over the next few weeks—a few memes, a few drunken key-smashes, a dick pic, and 2 grainy videos of his performances for critique—but such contact was sporadic, and you’d never seen him in real-time. 

He’d blown in one night, five weeks in, with a box of pizza just as you'd been heading out to meet your crew. When you’d told him you’d made plans, he’d looked so crestfallen that you’d caved and canceled on them.

While he’d been there, he’d given you a date in 3 weeks.

“That Saturday I have nowhere to be,” he’d said as he’d chewed. “I can spend the whole day with you.”

You’d been careful not to seem too eager.

“Oh yeah? Should I plan shit?”

He’d crammed the whole crust into his mouth and had given you a doughy grin.

“Why ’’ya think I told you?”

You didn’t know what you’d expected, but when he’d had to bounce 90min later, you were still surprised. (That was hardly enough time to digest!)

“Sorry,” he’d winced. “I gotta be on a bus in 45min.”

He’d left, and you’d been too embarrassed to join your friends who were only just going to the second bar.

Having fun with your man ;) ? one of your friends had texted.

What do you think? You’d texted back before changing into your pjs and turning on Netflix.

***

So maybe you were low-key excited about your day with Mary.

Perhaps you’d spent those 3 weeks figuring out the perfect date—something that said, “I missed you,” without saying “But in a clingy way.”

Beer and horror were two things the both of you were totally into, and you knew he’d be exhausted, so it seemed perfect. You’d bought the boxed set off of eBay and splurged for expedited shipping; you’d borrowed your brother’s old dual TV/VCR from his college days; and you’d forgone your weekly Chinese takeout for the craft beer funds. (And if things got steamy, well…even better.) 

***

A few days before The Date, you’d run into Mary on the bus. You were coming home from a shift, and he was going to his.

He’d brightened and waved you over—as if you weren’t already on your way—and you’d plopped down beside him with a tired grin. You’d told him of the latest entitled asshole, and he’d showed you another clip of him on guitar.

Before your stop had come up, you’d tentatively placed your hand over his.

“We still on for Saturday?”

He’d blinked at you a few moments before grinning.

“Yeah.”

“Should I plan a whole day for us, then?”

His arm had crept around your shoulders before pulling you into him to kiss your temple.

“Yeah, why not.”

***

That morning, you wake up happy. 

Mary will be over soon.

You roll over and grab your phone.

When should I expect you? :-* 

It takes him an hour to respond. You aren’t surprised—Mary isn’t known for being a morning person—so when your phone dings, you grab it up excitedly.

An excitement that dies when you read his text. And reread. And re-reread.

not 2day 

goin upste 2 show 

You blink.

What show? Didn’t we confirm? 

yeah. got me thinkin 

why no show? 

so i chked 

i missed one 

gotta do it 

Rage blooms hot, then cold behind your eyes and down your cheeks.

But you said we had the whole day. I made plans. 

save em 

ths is impt 2 me 

We’ve had this planned for weeks. 

i thot u suprted me 

on a bus cnt tlk 

You send a few more irate texts, but he doesn’t respond, and you toss your phone across the room with a shout of frustration. You scrub the hot tears from your eyes before they can fall.

And…on paper, Mary isn’t wrong. Nothing you had planned won’t keep: movies, beer, takeout.

But…

It gives you a stark look at what you mean to Mary. He gave you this date and confirmed it. He knew you were making plans.

How long was he going to wait to tell you he wasn’t even in the city anymore?

You fight the urge to kick the VHS tapes across the floor, but you open the fridge and grab a beer. If Queen Elizabeth could have beer for breakfast, then it was good enough for you.

Once you’ve downed all eight, you move on to the jug of vodka you keep for cleaning.

When you empty only liquid from your stomach into the toilet, you grab your frozen fries out of the freezer. You roll a handful of the cold ones in your mouth as you wait for the others to crisp in the oven, and once you’ve consumed the cooked ones, you go right back to the vodka.

***

Opening your eyes the next morning is a mistake, so you take a few deep breaths and go back to sleep.

When you wake again, your heart is fluttering, your stomach turns, and it feels like there’s an ice pick behind one eye. Shuffling slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen where you take some painkillers, drink some pickle juice, and eat two slices of plain bread.

The sense that you did something awful stays with you, but you’re in no condition to find your phone and see what you’ve done. Instead, you go back to bed. It takes more deep breathing to settle yourself, but once you do fall asleep, you’re out for hours.

You don’t feel amazing when you swim to consciousness again, but you feel at least like a human being. 

Your phone is dead when you find it under the sink, and waiting the 5 or so minutes for it to charge feels like waiting to face the executioner.

It’s both better and worse than you expected.

You breathe a sigh of relief to see that there are no vague social media posts, and you didn’t drunk dial any of your friends, but…

The texts to and from Mary are ugly.

Apparently, you’d managed not to send him angry texts until he’d sent you another clip of his performing. But then the floodgates had opened.

You’d started with telling him you didn’t give a shit about the show, how he was an inconsiderate ass, and then you'd devolved into incomprehensible, typo-ridden texts that accused him of using you, that you were only something to do when he didn’t have anything better to do, that he was an entitled man-child and if he didn’t apologize, you were done.

Mary’s texts in response range from him being angry at your disregard, to heated retorts you were blowing this out of proportion (and he didn’t appreciate your “ad hominem” attacks), to a cool detachment that this wasn’t working over text and he’d finish this in person.

You put your head in your hands but are too dehydrated to cry.

***

Mary doesn’t text you again during his self-imposed time frame.

You don’t text him either, but that’s more out of self-preservation than pride. There’s no point exacerbating the situation…and you’re pretty sure there’s no coming back from this, so why speed up the inevitable?

The horror tapes taunt you every time you walk by them, and you wonder if you can return them (you can’t). You give the TV back to your brother, and when he asks you how it went, you plaster a smile on your face and say, “Great!” with forced enthusiasm you hope comes across as genuine.

The primo weed goes over to your friend’s house, and the two of you wax poetic all night about existential claptrap as you devour two cheese pizzas and a bag of bbq chips. You talk about Mary without talking about Mary, and you get a heartfelt, “Sorry, dude.”

You beat the video game anyway, but it’s mostly because you needed something to occupy your mind and less out of spite (though that’s there as well).

***

Despite waiting on tenterhooks to hear anything from Mary, you truly don’t really expect to. You know you’d been atrocious, even if it had been prompted by his careless disregard, and you know Mary isn’t really the kind of guy that troubles himself with relationships that are hard.

Not that you’re in a relationship.

So when there’s a knock on your door a week later and Mary’s behind it, you’re genuinely surprised.

You gape through the peephole in shock.

“Fuck. If you’re there, just let me in, ok?”

Fumbling with the chain, you unlock the door and crack it open.

“Mary?”

“You gonna let me in?” he rasps.

You shrug and step away from the door, and he shuffles inside. He looks around like you’ve changed anything (you haven’t), before turning around to face you.

You close the door and stare back.

He folds his arms. “Breaking up with someone over text is tacky.”

What you think is, So you’ve come to do it in person, but what you say is, “Can’t break up if you’re not together.”

He winces and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Yeah…apparently I’ve ‘taken advantage' of you.”

This…isn’t what you’re expecting.

“I…what?”

“Can we sit down?”

You nod, and Mary sits rigidly on the edge of your couch. You curl up in the chair on the opposite side.

He rubs his palms down his greasy jeans before he speaks.

“I mean…you pissed me off, ok?”

You nod.

“But, like—you weren’t wrong, ok? I kinda knew that deep down, but I’m a dumbass, you know?”

You don’t nod.

“And I kinda bitched about the whole thing…but the resounding response was that I was the asshole.”

He angles his body toward you.

“I guess I’ve kinda been treating you like my best friend that I fuck sometimes.”

Your entire face flushes—you’d always thought you’d maybe ranked a little higher than that—and you duck your head so he can’t see the tears that you blink back.

There’s a swish of fabric, and you startle hard when Mary’s hand is at your chin. He jerks back with a Sorry.

“Shit—that’s not what I…” he blows out a breath and puts his hands behind his head before looking back up at you.

“But you aren’t, and…fuck this is harder than I thought.”

So this is it.

Waiting for him to do the deed is clearly going to be excruciating, so you take charge of this whole shit-show.

“I understand,” you say flatly.

“You do?”

“It’s ok, Mare-Mary. It’s my own fault for reading too much into it. I just…I saw what I wanted to see, I guess. I know you don’t need…” you look down into your lap, “…my shit in your life.

He makes a noise low in his throat, and then he’s squatting in front of you, his hot hands planting on your knees.

“But I want your shit in my life.”

You squint your eyes at him.

“But what I said…”

He grasps your hands in his.

“Pissed me off, yeah…cuz I wasn’t fucking thinking, ok? You’re like one of the only people who gives a crap about what’s important to me. And all I could see was you suddenly…not.”

Anger wells up in you again, and you yank away your hands.

“Weeks, Mary…weeks of you all over the tri-state area, and you thought I didn’t care because of one night?! A night you promised to me?”

He sits back on his heels. “I know…fuck. Ok? At the time, it just felt…like the show couldn’t be rescheduled. Our night could.”

Because you’re what he does when he’s bored.

You curl in on yourself.

“Shit.” He leans forward again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ok? I’m fucking on my knees here.”

You blink at him. 

What? 

“Please, please don’t break—say we’re done.”

“What?”

“Look, we can go into my shitty fucking psychological profile on why I fuck around later…but right now I need you to know that I knew it was you before I fucking knew it was you.”

You uncurl.

“That…’what’ was me?”

He knees forward and presses your hands to his face.

“The one I wanna spend my free time with. The one whose opinion means the most. The one who was the first person I wanted to share all my good shit with. You’re the one I missed, and—after that awful fucking night—everything felt pointless because I knew I couldn’t come over and jam about it.”

“Mare—what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m a fucking dumbass. I’m saying I thought I was pissed at you, but I was pissed at myself for fucking it up.” He sighs. “I’m saying no fucking one was on my side and they all told me to get my shit together.”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, and for the first time, you can see how they’re outlined in red, his subtle crow’s feet more pronounced.

“So, you’re not done with me? I’m not…too much trouble?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Shit, no. I’m asking you to not be done with me. I’ll give you all the nights you want. Fucking text me, and my ass’ll be here posthaste.” He shifts up, and his thumb ghosts over your lips. “Anything to get you to give me that secret smile again.”

“Secret smile?” you ask while trying to perform the action.

Mary actually blushes.

“Uh…yeah. You get this…” he makes a motion across his face, “…when you’re giving it back to me.” His fingers shove back through his hair as he casts his eyes down. “You don’t give it to anyone else.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve made a study of it.”

You’re a swirl of emotions. Mary’s apologized—has admitted he was wrong and has asked for…more—but you’re still hurt. And embarrassed.

But he’s looking up at you with wet, hopeful eyes.

“Do you…” you start carefully, “…do you know why I got so mad?”

That statement was clearly not what he was expecting, and he blinks at you a few times before nodding and looking down at the floor.

“I made a…uh, commitment…to you. And I treated it like it didn’t mean anything.”

He gives you a look like, Did I get it right? and that’s close enough—even if he’s missing some of the nuance.

You nod. “And I know I…wasn’t…the best.”

His face contorts, and your heart sinks.

“You…” he shakes his head. “You said some awful things…some hurtful shit—and it really got in my head.”

Mary gives you a complicated look.

“Shit that you’d been pissed about for a while.” He traces your knee. “Shit you could’ve said to me…but shit I should have noticed. Fuck.” He presses his forehead into your knees, and you can’t stop yourself from sinking your fingers into his hair.

He takes it as encouragement and presses into you before looking up again.

“I just kinda wanna put that whole night behind us. It feels like a fucking ouroboros of fault. And like maybe I created it. But let’s agree to like…not do that again.”

You look down at him, and his eyes search your face.

“Ok…but what does all this mean, Mare? I can’t…I need to be something to you, ok? More than just your friend.”

Mary nods emphatically, and he takes your hand and curls his into it.

“No more fuck-ups, and no one else…can we start there?”

He’s saying all the right words, but you’re still trepidatious—you know Mary, and he doesn’t like constraints.

“I…just…how can I believe you?”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe you even have to ask. He rises and awkwardly reaches out to touch your face before drawing his hand back.

“Cuz you’re important to me. I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

And yeah. Ok.