#* shit we nearly ended the world again / answered.

[diamondpantiess]

logan howlett x mutant!reader

this is porn without a plot, but this is the idea i had when writing her. they had a very big fight she left for a while days months years WHO KNOWS!!, comes back, and they FUCK. BAM!! enjoy you horny freaks!! 🤟🏽

warnings: no proofread, female body reader, reader has their nips pierced, pussy slapping, degrading, no use or mention of a condom (WRAP YOUR SHIT STUPID) readers a little freak towards the end, chocking and squirting if you squint, breeding kink, cumplay for sure, please lmk if i missed anything 💋

the mansion was quiet, everyone was out for a field trip today and it was peaceful. coming up the stairs and rounding the corner you saw your bedroom door, walking forwards you made sure to keep quiet as you knew he’d be there.

looking to see logan laid out on your neatly made bed in his dark jeans, white tank top and flannel like always. you admired for a moment and smiled at the sight of him, tired with half lidded eyes looking up at the ceiling. his one hand cuddled a stuffed animal close to his chest, a little yellow duck he’d won at the state fair for you, and the other laid out to his right.

“you better not have your dirty shoes on my bed, grandpa.” you spoke crossing your arms over your chest, and leaning against the doorframe. he whipped his head towards the sound of your voice, throwing the stuffed animal, he nearly tripped trying to get over to you and enveloping your body in his arms.

that same feeling from almost years ago was back, you felt at home, safe and comfortable here. you really didn’t want to leave again, missing it a little. he inhaled your sent and squeezed tighter, holding the back of your head in his large hands. a heavy sigh of relief left logan’s lips as you smiled into his chest.

“god, i’ve missed you. so much, i’ve missed you so much. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have even looked at her. it was stupid, i’m so stupid. i’m sorry, Bub.” logan huffed out in one breath pulling back to look at my face, you weren’t mad anymore you had plenty of time to grow and get over it.

storm was right, she just needed some time. he thought as you invaded by accident.

“i love you.” you spoke with a smile as he chuckled lightly, pulling you back into a hug. “i love you so much.” logan said kissing the top of your head repeatedly.

“you will never be my second choice, in this world or the next. I love you.” Logan huffed once more as you pulled away from him, a soft smiled played on your face.

reaching down to unzip your boots, toeing them off and plopping on your bed. be had a look of confusion placed on his face, like he knew something but didn’t want to assume. a beat of silence fell between us, as you closed the door and locked it without touching it. logan’s eyes lite up at the sound as he reached for his belt buckle, and you shrugged your own coat off next.

“you fucked someone else, didn’t ya?” logan unfortunately asked, placing both hands on either side of your body, and leaning forward to place a kiss to my cheek. you didn’t want to answer but you didn’t want to lie like before, this was new and you wanted change, good change.

so you exhaled softly, letting your body relax before answering. he nudged your cheek with his nose as he placed kisses softly along your neck, then down to your exposed collarbone.

“mmhm.” you moaned licking your lips as you laid back onto your bed, he followed and his lips basically ran after your neck.

“i can smell it, but that’s okay we can fix that.” logan spoke implying that he’d fuck you so good, no matter who came after him, you’d smell like him forever. it made your hole clench around nothing as you moaned, hands flying to his shoulders. he pulled back to get a good look at the mess you’d already become, cheeks flushed pink as your hair was sprawled out across the plush whites of your fresh bedsheets.

“they can’t fuck you like i can, huh?” he smiled disappearing back into the nape of your neck, leaving marks in his wake. Oh fuck you’ve missed this, and he was right, they were good but they weren’t him. yet you let him sweat a little until he stopped his actions, and came up for reassurance when you got silence.

“bub?” the nickname made your legs weak. his hands reached for the back of your knees, pulling them around his waist and pushing the pads of his finger into the flesh of your thighs. you smirked reading the thoughts in his head, almost laughing until his right hand came down on your ass forcing your chest into his.

“ouch!” you yelped sending him an annoying glare as he smirked in return.

“you’ve been left and dry for the last year, and this is how you wanna treat your piece of pussy?” you asked sarcastically carding your fingers through the growing greys on the side of his head, logan physically growled sending it straight to your core. he went silence for a second as you watched his face, eyes closed as he tried to hide him inhaling your scent. His nose twitched when he found it, almost edging himself with it.

“they didn’t fuck you good enough to claim this?” logan joked letting his right hand dip between your legs to cup your mound. gasping as he ran his thick thumb over the seam on your jeans, right down the middle of your fold. more silence as you stared at his lips, his thumb disappeared and moved to unbutton your pants next, soon disregarding them on the ground. leaving your bottom half nearly bare as his hands creeped up and under the tank top, stopping just under your breasts.

“i see something’s haven’t changed.” logan smirked talking about my no bra.

fully cupping your bare breasts, his large calloused hand rough against my soft skin. it made your lower stomach burn with want, you needed more of him and now. your lips were back on his in seconds while his other hand repeated the same action to the other breast, moaning into his mouth as your head started to spin.

everything felt so right, and in place with you together like this again. your hands pulled at the hair by his neck, he let out a low groan continuing his work on my breasts finally playing with the hem of your shirt. pulling it over your head breaking the kiss once more, he stood tall above you as you reached out for the bottom of his tank next.

“wait, wait. i’ve missed this.” logan spoke softly, barely above a whisper as he stared down at your nearly bare body. Breasts on full display just for him, the metal through your hard nipples sparkled when the sunlight hit. your legs spread wide enough for him to see the outline on your pussy, wet and nearly throbbing through your panties.

he smiled looking over your body, starting with your face down your neck, admiring the bruises already forming near your collarbone. down the centre of your chest, making sure to take his time with those, and then over your stomach finishing with your cunt. slick soaked through the thin cotton thong, dripping down your barely covered hole and over the second one.

“like the gods carved you from the finest stone, and sent you to me.” logan spoke running a hand over his mouth, already pussy drunk without even a sip. your smile never left your face with his words, they had you giggling and only something he could do.

he finally reached a hand out, both hands. one held your knee open as the thumb of the other ran over your covered folds, slowly until he reached your clit. running tight small circles over it, your body felt like it was on fire almost immediately.

“logan..” you whined bitting your lip and reaching for his wrist, as if you were already sensitive.

“oh, my poor baby.” he laughed as you peaked an eye open to see him physically pouting, you mimicked his expression but mine was sincere.

“i’ve barely touched you, and you’re complaining?” logan laughed again continuing his actions, you clenched around nothing again, bucking your hips up a couple times before he removed his hand. you gasped at the loss, and then gasped louder when his hand come down on my pussy, eyes wide as you arched my back off the bed.

“i fear she’s been neglected since you’ve been gone.” he spoke and you nodded, answering a question he wasn’t even asking. logan scuffed and repeated his action, laying a hard hand on your cunt. the slap echoed throughout the room, coming back into your ears, and he did it again, and then again until you closed your legs.

“uh, fuck!” you moaned feeling your high creep up.

“baby, we just started. don’t get soft on me now.” logan said leaning down to remove your underwear, the cool breeze of the room felt amazing against my burning skin. you sighed at the sensation, until he brought his fingers to your hole. teasing the ring of muscle with the tip of his middle finger, moving around your entrance finally pushing his thick large finger in.

“just as tight as i remember. fucking pathetic, no one as big as me, huh?” logan teased struggling to get a second finger in, you nodded shamelessly at his words. eyes squeezed shut at the burning feeling you missed so much, and loved how right he was.

logan’s finger finally moved, pumping in and back out again. repeating the slow pace until his fingers were covered in enough slick to go deeper. two finger was just enough to keep your orgasm from washing over you to early, you were in perfect bliss at this moment. you pushed your hips along with the rhythm of his fingers, enjoying the slight burn.

logan was having fun at the sight below him, his woman was back where she belonged, already fucked out and we weren’t even started. he licked his thumb without my noticed and pushed it against your clit, your mouth opened but nothing came from it. enjoying the tension he built in the pit of your stomach, soon replacing his left thumb with the warm feeling of his mouth. you moaned in satisfaction together, his tongue flattened of the bundle of nerves as he stared up at your face.

with mostly breasts in the way, he still enjoyed the view he got, logan’s fingers continued their assume on my tight hole. as your hand reached for his hair, pushing his face further into your messy pussy, the lewd sounds of him eating filled the empty room. it was music to your ears, but you didn’t last long with his mouth on your clit. The wall had broke soon after, and you came all over his face, soaking his chops and the floor below.

logan stood up with his fingers still inside, as he looked down at the most perfect image below. squirt covered his fingers while he moved them in and out, after it stopped he pulled his fingers out slowly watching your hole flutter and moaning at the loss of his fingers.

“bet you still taste the same?” logan jokingly asked as you came down from my high still, half lidded you watched him stick both fingers in his mouth and moan around them. you smiled, leaning up and reaching out for his wrist pulling those same fingers towards you mouth as he happily accepted.

logan watched as you held his wrist and sucked the tips of his fingers into your mouth, staring up at him through my lashes.

“you miss me, pretty?” you asked and his eyes widened slightly, he’s never had anyone call him that. he was always the one doing the talking during this kinda stuff, but he nodded as you wrapped my lips around his thick fingers, swallowing them whole until the tips hit the back of your throat. he swallowed thickly at the feeling, he doesn’t remember it being like this last time.

“fuck, c’mere!” logan growled again pulling his fingers from your mouth and wrapping a hand around your neck, bringing his lips to yours as he fell back onto the bed. your hands fumbled with the button, and zipper on his jeans as he pulled them off with his boxers, the length of him grazed your cunt as it sprung out of his pants.

his hand left your neck and fisted his cock, letting his lips off yours he looked down to line his tip up with your weeping hole. pushing just the tip in as you reached for his shoulders, after all the prep he gave you still weren’t ready for him, but he pushed in inch by inch until last bit.

“oh fuck, you feel amazing.” you smiled placing a hand on the side of his face, watching as he stopped his movements. “you feel even better.” he told placing a kiss to your lips, hovering over as you locked eyes and he pushed the rest of his length into your tight little hole.

he waited, and gave you time to adjust to him, it had been awhile since you had something this big. his hand ran over the supple skin of your thighs, as yours laid above your head with your chest rising and falling. panting with the lovely burn he brought to your hole, you nodded once ready, and he pulled his hips back slowly. leaving just the tip before he slide back in, repeating his actions until he found a solid rhythm.

snapping his hips against your pelvis, over and over again with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass. your breasts bounced over his bare chest, as his lips found your neck again. logan’s hands held your legs open for him so his large torso could fit between your frame, logan’s arm reached under your ass and manhandled your legs over his shoulders. hitting it from a deeper angle now, you yelped his name at the slightly change in position. but your pussy loved it, squeezing around him as he nearly turned blue in the face.

“shit, yer squeezing me so tight.” he huffed as if out of breath from it, hunching over and shutting his eyes to compose himself.

the control made your pussy wetter, and did it again causing him to lose his footing slightly and accidentally jerk his hips forward out of rhythm. the concentration on his face was so cute as he let go of your body, and placed either hand on the bed. doing it again, getting the same reaction but he caught on the third time.

“i’m not gonna last long if you keep tightenin’ up like that, sweets.” logan held your hips as a warning, but you didn’t listen and did it once more.

"fuck fine." he mumbled snapping his hips back until just the tip was in, and then slammed into you. repeating it twice more until you cracked and moaned his name, over again.

"oh, she likes it." he spoke softly mainly to himself, and barley above a whisper. he pounded you into the mattress, almost leaving a perfectly permanent imprint in it. skin slapping against skin echoed through out the bedroom, thank god no one was home.

“log-“

“oh I know baby.” he didn't need to hear words because he understood. but right now all he wanted to hear was those pretty little moans, those

sounded like heaven to him.

removing your legs from his shoulders he leaned back, holding your legs open. he switched between staring at your tits bouncing with every thrust he made, and your pussy stretching around his cock. a few more thrusts and he was ready but didn't want to just yet, he needed this to last a little longer. so he slowed his pace and rolled his hips, angling them downwards and going deeper.

"log-oh fuck!" you let out loudly propping yourself up on your elbows to look down, the prettiest sight. his cock perfectly stretching your pussy out, and that creamy white ring forming around the base. your legs spread open just for him as he couldn't take his eyes off you, and yours.

"cum in me, baby." you moaned and his hips stuttered slightly falling out of rhythm, but he soon found it. he swallowed hard and looked down at you surprised by your words, almost ignoring them. "don’t ignore me now." you pouted and stared up at him with blown out, lush filled eyes reaching for his hand to palm my right breast.

"baby-" he mumbled, but couldn't finish his sentence because he watched as you reached down, and placed the right index and middle finger around the base of his cock. running it over your folds, and collecting as much of our mixed fluids before bringing both fingers to your mouth sucking them clean and dry.

he didn't have much time to think before his hips stuttered again, and he was on the edge. “cum in me, logan." his eyes slipped shut and he kept that same pace from before, this time adding his left thumb back to my clit. continuing his attack on your clit, keeping his pace you clenched around him tighter than before, sucking him closer as the fire in your belly started burning again.

"i’m almost there." you moaned taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you lowered your gaze to watch his cock disappear inside you. “me too baby, me too." you felt logan’s dick twitch and his hips lost rhythm for a moment, he was trying so hard to calculate this perfectly so he wouldn't cum in you.

down to the last second.

"c'mere." you noticed mumbling, you reached for the back of his neck and pulled his lips against yours. yours hips meet his thrusts as he moaned into your mouth, his named slipped from your lips like a chant.

"cum inside me, logan. do it." you said, he tried so hard to pull away, and let himself go all over your stomach like he should.

"i know you want to. just do it, cum inside me." i said again pulling his lips back on yours. he groaned low as if it was a warning, but you just continued to egg him on.

"i know my pretty boy wants to. cum inside me." you said, he groaned your name one last time before painting your walls, hot spirts of cum filled your pussy and you were soon to follow him. logan stayed inside for a moment before pulling out to kneel in front of you, cum dripping from your pussy as he watched in awe. legs still spread wide open I sighed in relief, while my body jerked from my orgasm.

his head laid on your thigh watching your hole flutter, breathing heavily as you watched him reach out and finger his cum back into your pussy. whining at the sensitivity, knowing you’d hurt for a couple days because he probably bruised your cervix.

"you’re everything." he spoke softly reaching for a couple tissues on the nightstand, wiping up any excess cum he couldn't get in you.

"so are you." you told him honestly as he disregarded the tissue on the floor, you moved further up the bed so you could lay comfortably together. he laid his head on your chest, holding your soft hips in his large hands as you cradled the back of his head in yours, enjoying a long pleasant moment of silence before you ruined it.

"so round two in the shower?" you asked and he huffed a laugh, but quickly got up already rocking a hard on.

"freaky little thing, ain’t ya?” he smiled standing tall as you nodded and shrugged your shoulders, logan scuffed grabbing your hips and flinging you over his shoulder taking us to your private bathroom.

a/n: please don’t judge I WILL CRY, this is my first time to ever post so i’m a little nervy. two people asked for this so here it is, ps english is not my first language so my everything might not be the best 🤍 thank you

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / prev here / masterlist

Six thirty in the morning might be your favorite time of day. 

It’s the before.

Before anyone else comes in, before the morning rush, before the chime of the front door’s bell, before the shop is filled with lines of people, before it all upends you.

At six thirty in the morning, you sit in the back, perched on the prep table, with a fresh cup of coffee. You leave the side door open, screen separating you from the world, fresh air mixing with the smell of strawberry basil scones, cinnamon coffee cake and mini kolaches, fruited with whatever jam you’ve managed to throw together. Steam rises, semolina spills, the sun dawns, and the world wakes… all well after you’ve had your breakfast.

This corner of the city is busy, and the shop always hums like a well-oiled machine in the dregs of a rush, the front counter team churning out specialty coffees and teas effortlessly. It’s cyclical, similar faces every day, morning commuters rushing in and out, locals settling in a nook with their laptops and lattes, people swinging in for a quick bite. You hide in the back, usually, elbow deep in sudsy warm water with your mountain of dishes, answering the occasional shout of 'do we have more of-' and 'just sold the last-'

This morning in particular, cranberry orange scones, pumpkin muffins and mini quiches are the only things left cooling on the speed racks, waiting patiently for their turn to be placed in the display case, an endless cycle of replenishment lasting until the rush dies down, morning fading into afternoon, triple shot monstrosities turning into decaf coffees. 

It’s laborious, this routine. Five, six, sometimes seven days a week, going to bed with the sun, rising before it. Your wrists ache from rolling dough, cutting dough, scraping dough. Your back weeps when you lift the bowl from the mixer stand every morning, and your joints fare no better. You need new boots, and new insoles for your new boots, and probably a new standing mat, though you know your boss will never go for it. 

You’re tired.

The exhaustion settles into your bones easily today, wearing you down until you’re allowing your eyes to close, wilting atop the butcher’s block- 

The shop phone rings. 

You heave yourself down and swing through the double doors to the front, scrambling for the classic corded receiver, nearly fumbling it in your hands. 

“Hello?” Shit. You always forget to answer with the shop’s name. You’re not exactly the customer facing part of the operation. “Galaxy’s.” You correct and… wait. 

There’s no response. 

You think you can hear someone breathing, something rustling, but it’s too faint and difficult to make out. 

“’Lo?” You try again, but still, there’s silence. It’s an unending moment, you on one end… who knows what on the other, and you hold your breath, straining to hear, to listen. 

The line clicks dead in the next second. 

Odd. 

The shop girl is chewing gum. 

You’ve told her a million times not to chew gum when she’s working the counter, but clearly, she’s never heard of norovirus, and you’re not the boss, or the owner, so being the broken record only gets you so far. 

“There’s someone out front to see you.” She snaps it between her front teeth, and your molars grind together like stone. 

“Who?” You toss a clean towel on the stainless steel table in the middle of the kitchen with a frown. You don’t really get visitors here, most of your friends are in the same industry, and either work the line too late to be up in time to even get coffee somewhere, or are already at work, buried beneath a bain-marie and the never-ending sound of a ticket printer. 

There’s dried, caulked dough caked to your fingers, shoved up underneath your nails, and you brush them self-consciously against the ratty old apron stretched across your waist. 

The surprise lingers on your tongue, and then explodes when you spot the massive dusky blonde from the other day, the one who was with the guy who split the coffee all over your favorite dress. He’s too tall, and too broad, and too imposing, everything in your sense of self-preservation screaming at you to run when he notices you approaching, gleam of a predator sparkling in his eyes.  

Still, somewhere, tucked away, it thrills you, the idea of them, the balancing act, two halves of a whole. He’s etched from stone, strong and steady, while his partner is saporous, vibrant, and riotous, crystal blue eyes sparkling in the mid-day sun. 

You wonder what they're like. What they talk about. What they do.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Your skin prickles once you fall into his orbit, immobilized by the molten toffee pooling around his irises. You float for a second, tracing his knife’s edged jaw, the fullness of his lips, imperfect pieces puzzled together to make a masterpiece, and then crash back to earth quickly, realizing you’re standing in front of him… staring. 

“Uh. Hi.” What is he doing here? How did he know where to find you?

“Sorry to barge in on you at work.” He starts immediately, wallet appearing from his back pocket like a magic trick. “Wanted to make sure we settled up.” Thick fingers hold a folded nest of notes, and you stare down at them, slowly processing what he means.

Cash? 

“Oh, I… I have… venmo. Or we could use apple pay, you didn’t have to come all the-“ 

“Don’t have venmo.” His mouth tilts, and you go with it, head listing to the side like a wayward buoy. “This is easier.” He pushes it into your hand, peeling your fingers back to enclose the money in your palm, heat sparking up your spine. 

“How did you know where I worked?” You blurt, unable to keep it at bay any longer. The question singes, settles uncomfortably in the sparks between you. 

“Saw you in the back yesterday, when we were in for a cuppa.” Oh. Suspicion sheds, snakeskin left behind on a cold, dusty trail, suspension of disbelief settling in the back of your mind. Sure. After all, this is where you ran into them last week, on your day off. They do come here. 

“Well. Thanks.” 

“It’s our pleasure. Hope the stain came out okay.” 

“Oh, yeah. It’s… still at the cleaners.” This is absolutely false, but he doesn’t need to know that. The spare bills will probably go towards your energy bill, and the ruined dress will go in the trash. 

It is what it is. 

“Couldn’t help but notice when I was comin’ through the parking lot that the back door is open.” His voice swoops low, dropping into a rumble, and you blink, lips parting. 

“Oh, um y-yeah. I like the breeze.” He shakes his head, a simple rejection, leaving you spinning. 

“City’s not the safest right now, yeah?” Oh, yeah. Of course, you knew. Rival factions of organized crime were leaving a red sea of bodies in their wake all over town, a new murder popping up in the headlines nearly every week. 

But you were safe. You were fine. Galaxy’s had never been stained with the bloody touch of any of them, and you took it as fact. Permanence. 

You agree reluctantly, watching the storm clouds roil on across his expression before evaporating. You shrug, hands clutched in your apron, doubt and skepticism clear on your face.

His expression shutters. His eyes turn cold.   

His thumb and forefinger dart through the air, latching onto your chin. 

You freeze. You should tug away, jerk backwards, yell and scream and hiss, but all you can do is stand there, caught in a trap and trembling as he leans forward to murmur in your ear. 

“Lock the door, little doe.” 

[satorusugurugurl]

If this request makes you uncomfortable or isn’t something you want to write, I apologize and please ignore my request!

Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a satoru x reader x Suguru smut? With like, some bdsm mixed in yk. Tying reader up, satoru is a tease, and likes to make her squirm and ask questions he know she can’t answer because Suguru is fucking her throat. But Suguru is mean. Mean and tougher than satoru. He tells satoru to stop being so gentle with you, that not only do you deserve rough treatment but you like it. And satoru listens to him, of course. I just want them to run through me like a train😞

Also same mean geto anon (again lol) I’m gonna just sign off w an emoji now :3 -🍭

Hi Anon!

This isn't my cup of tea, it's my FUCKING jam!!

Summary: Gojo and Geto had been on a two-week-long mission, which hadn't gone as smoothly as Suguru wanted. He was pent-up and frustrated. So, of course, Gojo called you to warn you it might not be a good idea to come over. You, of course, did not heed his warning. The second you get home, you realize that you were screwed.

Word Count: 3,706

Warnings: BDSM, rough sex, oral sex, so much sex, degradation, teasing, the smuttiest of smut

A/N: Good God, Satoru x Reader x Suguru is my weakness!! I put my whole heart into this. Geto Suguru, teacher AU, is my kryptonite!

Part Two

She Likes it Like That

“Y/N babe,” Gojo said in a hushed whisper, “you probably shouldn't come home tonight.”

You cocked an eyebrow, looking away from the first year's training. “I'm sorry, did you just tell me not to come home. . .to our apartment?” The world ‘our’ came out like acid.

Gojo sighed overdramatically. “Don't say it like that. I'm trying to save you! Suguru is in such a bad mood.” You listened to him walking around. “I sighed out loud when I noticed the last of my mochi was gone. Fuck you for that, by the way, and do you know what he said to me?” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, waiting for the rant to continue. “He told me to shut the fuck up! For sighing!”

“What did you do to piss him off? Oh, and just an FYI, I bought you more mochi, asshole.”

“Oh—” silence, “thank you-I’m sorry, please don't return it.”

“Satoru! Forget about the mochi. What happened to Sugu?”

The mission your partners were sent on did not go as planned. Their hotel had flooded; it was not like they had time to consider sleeping. The higher-ups sent them to an abandoned mountainside village full of cursed spirits. Poor Suguru had to swallow dozens for nearly two weeks. Gojo had enough; he couldn't stand the pained expression on his face as he gagged the last spirit down. So he decided to Hollow-Purpled the entire village.

The second they got back, the higher-ups scolded the hell out of them. Chastising them, complaining that they didn't do a good enough job. After all their hard work, the time they spent away from home, from you. Those bastards dared to complain about their hard work. It sent Suguru into a terrible mood, one that was bound to end with either a fight or someone getting fucked into the mattress.

One thing about Suguru was that when he was pissy, things felt out of his control. He needed to take control back. Which meant he wanted to have sex. He would be rough, really rough, tying either you or Satoru up, not letting you go until he had calmed down. Or if one of you was fucked too stupid to continue, his eyes focused on the other that wasn't tied up.

“So please, just stay with Ieiri tonight. I'm going to lock myself in my room. Last time he was this pissed off, the both of us were so sore we couldn't move.”

“Ugh, fuckin’ whatever.” This whole situation wasn't fair. You hated how your boyfriends were mistreated.

“Yeah, just stay the—oh, hi Suguru.” There was a shuffling in the background. “No, I wasn't talking shit.” Satoru nervously laughed. “Look, Sugu—no, put down the rope—”

“Toru?” Panic for your boyfriend sank into your stomach.

“Hey! Wait a second—Sugu—”

Before any other indication of what was happening came through the receiver, the other line cut off. So you quickly yelled to the students you had to leave and took off. By the time you made it, you were breathless from running and realized that in your panic, you left your keys at work.

You picked up the spare key hidden under the doormat. Just as you were about to unlock the door, it flew open. You slowly blinked, looking up at a very irritated Suguru. The man radiated gloom and tension. He was in his sweatpants, and his hair was tied in a messy bun, and, dear God, he looked pent up.

“Why the fuck are you using the spare key?”

“I-I uh—”

“Ooooh~ there she is~!” a hand gently rested against Suguru’s shoulder as Satoru peered down at you from behind your dark-haired boyfriend. “There's our girl!”

It only took a moment to see that Satoru mirrored Suguru’s frustration and anger. Oh fuck. The key fell from your hand as you took a step back. Suguru was demanding and rough when he was pent up. Satoru, on the other hand, was a tease. He liked pushing you, making you cry. Both of them being in a pissy mood simultaneously, this was a nightmare for you.

“Y-You, I thought you were in trouble!”

“Oh yeah, no.” Suguru’s soured face slowly twisted into a smirk as Satoru licked his lip. “But you~?” Suguru’s hand darted out, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, preventing you from moving further back. “You're royally fucked.” Before you even had a chance to respond, Suguru and Satoru grabbed you, yanking you inside.

“Awe~” Satoru hummed as he trailed his kiss up the bare thighs he lay between. “Look at you~ trying to clamp your thighs shut.” Gojo’s fingers were buried deep inside of you. Finger fucking you to the edge of yet another orgasm he would deny. “But you can't, can you~? Suguru’s got you all tied to the bed, spread out for us to use you.” A muffled moan escaped you. “Huh? What was that princess? You gotta use your big girl words.” Satoru tilted his head, cupping his free hand around the back of his ear. “Oooh! That's right, you can't talk when getting your throat fucked.”

You gagged as Suguru's cock hit the back of your throat. He was quiet, his eyes shut in concentration. He looked so fucking hot, so focused on the feeling of your mouth. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he pulled in and out of your mouth, grunting softly as you hollowed your cheeks. But the more Satoru spoke, the more Suguru knitted his eyebrows.

“I bet you want me to stuff your pussy, too, don't you~? You want to be spit-roasted between your two boyfriends?” Your pussy twitched at his words. “Oooh~!! Your cunt just twitched. Is that what our sweet girl wants—”

“Satoru,” Suguru snarled, “shut the fuck up.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Y/N likes it when I tease her.”

Suguru tsked, pulling his thick cock out of your mouth. You gasped and coughed, spit and precum coating your chin. Between your pants and the gasps for air, Suguru went to what you thought would be a head pat. Instead, his fingers tangled in your air with a hard yank, pulling you up to look down at Satoru. His face was flushed, cerulean eyes wide as he looked between his two partners.

“Look at the fucking slutty face she's making.” The grip on your hair tightened. “You think she looks like this because of your pitiful teasing?” A shaky moan escaped you as he tightened his grip harder. “No, she looks like this because this little slut likes it rough.”

Fuck, you wanted more, to run your hands over Suguru’s arms, to grip his cock, urging him to keep fucking your throat. You were desperate to trap Satoru's head firmly between your thighs, forcing him to kiss and lick your clit. Instead, you weakly tugged at the purple restraints tied to both your wrists and ankles. Suguru had set up the rigging underneath the mattress, making it impossible for you to move. Meaning if you wanted his cock back in your mouth or Satoru’s tongue inside of you, you had to wait for them.

What made it more frustrating was the fact that you were completely bare. Not allowing you to hide the way your body reacted to Suguru’s dirty words. He was telling the truth. And the truth was behind your body's reactions. Gojo could see it in the way your tight entrance clenched around his fingers. He could feel your pussy drip around him, your wetness running down his knuckles. Suguru was right; you did like it; no, like wasn't the right word.

You fucking loved it.

Suguru could see the wheels turning in Satoru’s head as his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. “Satoru~ do you finally see it?~” The way Suguru purred his name had Satoru’s cock throbbing. “You see why she came home, even though she knew she’d get fucked?”

“Yeah, yeah, she's a fucking slut.”

“Yeah, she is.” A sharp tug on your head made you yelp. Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You want it rough? Want me to fuck your throat so hard you cry, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

Gripping his cock at the base, Suguru slapped his thick meat against your cheek. “That's a good girl. Now open up.” slowly, you opened your mouth to him. Watching your tongue slip out had his tip angry, throbbing red. “Now,” he smeared the beading precum over your bottom lip, “say ah~.”

“Ahh~” The second that sound left your pretty mouth Suguru shoved his cock in your mouth. Your eyes stung as tears filled your eyes.

Satoru’s fingers had stopped their slow movements inside of you. His mouth was dry as he gulped. Suguru had been rough before, but this was a whole new level. His thick fingers wrapped around your Y/H/C hair, holding your head in place. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his ass clenching with the force of each thrust. Blue eyes slowly trailed over to your face. Your eyes were red, big tears slowly down your cheeks, and your throat was fucked. Satoru swore he could see Suguru’s tip bulging in your slender neck.

This was fucking hot. Suguru’s bare back glittered in the low light of the bedroom, a sheen of sweat beaded over his toned muscles. It was like watching a god fuck a mortal Suguru radiated a dominating power as he watched their girlfriend choke and gag on his cock. Satoru’s cock was so hard it fucking hurt. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, jerking it slowly as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs.

The gentle kisses had you sighing contently around Suguru’s cock. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru sighed as he watched Satoru. His pink tongue was stuck out, gently teasing your damp folds. The sensation had you sighing around his dick, and that was not what he needed right this fucking second. Suguru wanted more; he needed it to relieve the tension in his shoulder. But that relief, the release he needed, wouldn’t happen, with Satoru teasing you like he loved to do.

“Satoru,” Suguru's voice was rough, “I just told you Y/N likes it rough.”

“Uh-huh~” Satoru’s voice was muffled as his face buried in your pussy, making you whine around the cock buried in your mouth.

“You’re not being rough enough.” Satoru pulled back, making you whine in protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to come down here and eat Y/N’s pussy while I get my dick sucked?”

“No.” The cocky smile that was beginning to form on Satoru’s face was suddenly gone as Suguru reached his free hand down, wrapping his fingers in soft white hair. “I want you to fucking eat her cunt out like you fucking hate her.” Your eyes rolled back as Satoru was slammed back down into your pussy. The moan that left his mouth vibrated just right against our clit, making you cry out. “Ah~ fuck yes.” Your cries vibrated around Suguru’s cock, just the way he wanted. “That’s it, Satoru, keep it up.”

“Mmmmph.” Finally, having a picture of how Suguru wanted him to act, Satoru found himself motivated. Again, it might be because his boyfriend was tugging and pulling at his sensitive hairline. Yeah, that was motivating him. Fuck you like he hated you, he could do that. He was just as pent-up as Suguru was.

Fingers slammed inside your pussy, fucking in and out of your tight hole with a force and speed that had you crying out in pleasure. Your moans felt so fucking good, and the more you opened your mouth to cry, the deeper Suguru fucked your throat. He hit the back over and over again, his hand pressing firmly against Satoru’s head, pushing him harder against your clit. The two of you moaned while your mouths were being used; the sounds of whimpers, squelches, and gagging were like a symphony to Suguru’s ears.

Out of all the ways for him to relieve his stress, this was by far his favorite.

“Hah—fuck keep that up, Satoru, bring her right to the edge, then stop. I want her cumming with both of us inside of her. Fucking her so rough she has to call out of work tomorrow and Friday.” The thought of that had you pulling on your restraints. “Oooh oh, you like that? You like knowing the two of us will make sure you can’t walk or talk tomorrow?” Your muffled moans were quickly molded into gags as Suguru roughly fucked your face. “Yeah, you fucking do, you nasty little slut.”

Your mind was spinning as you felt yourself climbing closer and closer to your orgasm. The room was so hot and reeked of sex. It was all you could do not to allow yourself to cum right then and there. Satoru could feel it, the way your little swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, how your walls clamped down on his fingers. He wanted to send you over the edge. He was close to following you as he fucked his hips helplessly into the mattress, wishing it was your wet pussy instead.

One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, would it? You had been so good to them, allowing the duo to drag you into the house, strip you in the entryway, and tie you to the bed. Plus, on top of all that, they had left you alone for two weeks. You had to rely on that stupid vibrator Suguru insisted on allowing you to keep. That stupid toy was nothing compared to his tongue. Which was probably why he was bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm in under three minutes.

Yeah, he was going to let you cum.

Curling his fingers up into your g-spot, Satoru fucked you as fast as his wrist would allow. Suguru instantly knew what was happening. From the way your eyes shut to how loud you were moaning around him, you were seconds away from cumming. If he was in a better mood, he might have allowed it to happen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Stop.” Suguru scolded, pulling Satoru away from your dripping sex.

Both you and Satoru made disapproving groans as your orgasm slowly faded out of sight. “Doesn’t she deserve a treat? She’s been so good!” Satoru whined, licking your juices off his lips.

“I agree. Y/N does deserve a reward. But you need to give it to her in the roughest way that you can.” Suguru pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Look at it this way. We get to blow off the steam while we make up for making her play with herself for two weeks.”

“Huh?” Those words struck a different chord in Satoru, and his cock twitched.

“Y/N, sweetheart, how often would you say you played with yourself when we were gone.”

You swallowed at the air greedily. “I don’t know, seven, maybe eight times.” Both your boyfriends shuddered, hearing the hoarseness of your voice.

“And out of all of those times, did you cum as hard as you do with us.”

“Not at all. They were all baby orgasms.”

Suguru shut his eyes, nodding his head. “See, Satoru, not only does our little slut like us rough and demanding, but we have to make up for those eight little orgasms.” When the dark-haired man looked back at Satoru, he saw a flash of white before your scream of shock and please bounced off the walls.

Suguru’s eyes were slightly wide as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed. What he saw was Satoru balls deep inside of you. His thrusts were sloppy and needy, and fuck you looked as stunned as Suguru. One second you had been empty, pussy craving a cock deep inside of it from the denied orgasm. In the blink of an eye, Satoru was fucking into you more brutal than he’d ever fucked you before.

“I fucking told you, that toy was nothing compared to us.” Satoru snarled against the crook of your neck, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Fucking stupid toy, not pleasing my girl.”

“Oh my—fuck, holy fuck!” You cried out, mouth wide open. Giving Suguru the perfect opportunity to get back to fucking your throat. The bittersweet taste of pre-cum had your mouth watering. He returned to the brutal pace he was in several minutes again.

“She needs that Satoru. What if we get sent on another long mission? She’s just supposed to suffer?” The thought of that had Suguru tilting his head, bangs falling in front of his eye. “You know what, I think you might be on to something. If we take her toy away, then we’d have to fuck her even harder the next time we get home.”

Satoru’s teeth sank harder into your neck as the tip of his cock slammed almost too hard into your cervix, making you scream around Suguru. “Exactly. Let me use reversal red on it, Y/N, please, baby.” You started to shake your head in a desperate plea to let you keep it. But Suguru’s cock in your throat made it impossible to do so. “What was that? Oh, right, you have your mouth full.” His lips moved against your pulse as his fingers dug into your hips. “Guess we’ll just have to say the way your clamping down on my cock is a yes in our book.” Your eyes darted up to Suguru, who had bought you the toy, for help.

“Mhmm fuck, yeah, I’m pretty sure she just hummed an ‘uh-huh’ around my cock.”

You wanted to argue, to fight against this rash decision, but you felt so good it was almost impossible to care. You were screaming around Suguru’s cock. Tears streaming down your face, leaving behind trails of mascara. They were both being so mean and rough. God, it was so fucking good. Who cared about a clit sucker when your throat and pussy were being fucked into next week.

“She’s close.” Satoru cried out, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh fuck she’s hugging my cock so tight I’m going to explode Suguru.”

With blurry eyes, you glanced up at Suguru. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shut tight. “I know, oh fuck I know, I’m so close, Satoru, don’t fuckin’ stop, make her cum, make her cum so hard.” Both his hands grabbed your face fucking your throat roughly as Satoru cried out, his hand pressing roughly on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

That was all that you needed. You cried out, squirting all over Satoru’s crotch, abdomen, and the mattress. Your orgasm set a domino effect between your boyfriends. Suguru followed behind you, his body hunched over you, his hands gently squeezing your head as he filled your mouth full of his thick cum. You weakly tried swallowing all of it, but that was somewhat difficult as Satoru extended your orgasm.

His thumb continues to rub your clit until his face scrunch up, mouth open in a feral growl. Satoru's orgasm hit him like a punch in the gut. He fucked all three of you harder, closer to oblivion. The headboard slamming against the wall as the restraint dug into your wrists was the only thing grounding you to remain on Earth. Satoru didn’t let up on the rough thrusts until he felt his cum dripping around his cock onto the bed.

The throbbing pain in the back of your throat, deep inside of your pussy was all the confirmation you needed that your boyfriends had fulfilled their promise. Never in your life had you been fucked so roughly. But it was a pain that you warmly welcomed.

After coming down, Suguru was the first to move gently. The rough hands that had been holding you in a vice gently held you as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth. “Lay down.” His gruff, gentle voice whispered as he helped rest you against a pillow.

“Oh fuck—“ Satoru lifted his head off your shoulder, “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.” He was so slow, pulling out of you, grimacing as you cried out. “Sorry, fuck I’m sorry, baby.”

You shut your eyes, listening to Satoru getting out of bed. You could hear water running in the bathroom as gentle fingers began undoing your restraints. “You did such a good job, Y/N,” Suguru whispered. “Such a good girl for us.” His praise had you humming happily as he made quick work of the rest of the ropes.

“Suguru, let’s order in, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

The next half hour was a blur of warm happiness. Satoru helped wash your body in a bubble bath before Suguru joined you, kneeling next to the tub, lovingly stroking your face and hair. After you were cleaned up, your hair brushed, and pajamas on. You crawled into your bed with fresh sheets and relaxed. Satoru and Suguru fluffed your pillows and brought you a cup of tea for your raw throat. When your dinner arrived, the three of you sat in bed together to eat as a B-grade horror movie played on the television.

After eating, Satoru left to throw out the take-out containers. “Mmm, thank you for letting us do all that,” Suguru said as he crawled into bed after his shower. “That mission, it was rough.”

“I’m always happy to help.” Your voice cracked, making Suguru frown. “Stop frowning,” you flicked his forehead. “I like it rough.”

The bed dipped, and Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N can handle it. She is dating the two strongest, after all.” Both you and Suguru scoffed, relaxing in the growing silence. “Oh, by the way, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You yawned, snuggling into Suguru’s chest as he turned the bedside lamp off.

“Did you bring home my mochi?”

In the dark of the room, you heard a thump and Satoru’s whine before Suguru pulled the three of you closer to him. “Satoru shut the fuck up about the mochi.”

[dsudis]

late night calls, sandman: "I know it’s stupid, but I needed to hear your voice.” ?

I almost never manage to write to prompts but hey, it's the summer of 2024! Sometimes crazy shit happens! I wrote this! Don't ask me how long ago I got this ask!

Dreamling, feat. retired Dream & comics spoilers for how he got that way.

The Sound of Your Voice

Hob scrolled back through his texts, reading the slightly disjointed conversation with Dream that had just trailed off into nothing, and then the previous day's exchanges. There were no selfies, but Dream sent pictures of the things he saw on his travels and found interesting--sometimes the sort of holiday snaps anyone might send, but often things that brought it firmly to mind that Hob was exchanging texts with the newly-human former Lord of the Dreaming, who was wandering the world in search of Normal Life Experiences.  

He meant to scroll past, but he found himself studying the photos all over again: the instruction card from an airline seat; a scrap of spiderweb lingering in an unidentifiable corner of two beige walls; a spoon wrapped in a paper napkin; a puddle on a cracked pavement. 

Hob zoomed in on that last, trying to discern a reflection in the puddle, trying to guess what Dream was doing with his hair these days by the shape of the shadow.  

It had been a month now that Dream had been off on his travels. He texted fairly often, and always responded when Hob texted him; they had even spoken twice. The first time had been four days after Dream set out, when Hob hadn't heard anything, and gave up on being cool and called.  

Dream had sounded mildly puzzled, but had been content to chat for twenty minutes. He had actually, haltingly, answered questions about what he was up to, what he'd seen, whether he was enjoying his adventure.  

Hob had managed to compress four days of quietly losing his mind worrying about him into saying toward the end, "Don't be a stranger, right? I mean--you're not my--not a stranger anymore, so--we can keep in touch."  

He'd nearly hung up then just to shut himself up, but Dream had said, "Yes, I see. I will."  

He seemed to have understood, even, because since then he hadn't gone more than twenty-four hours without texting Hob some random observation or sending a photo or just Good morning, Hob, usually at a time that was nowhere near morning where Hob was. 

Dream had even called, a week or so ago. It had taken Hob solidly ten minutes, in which Dream had scarcely paused for breath, to realize that despite speaking perfectly clearly, Dream was so utterly legless that he needed more absurd words for it. He was trolleyed. Gazeboed. Positively coat-hangered.  

"Your turn," Dream had said abruptly, still not slurring a bit but audibly loosened, so that Hob was suddenly sure that Dream was lying down, sprawled somewhere, collar undone, shirt perhaps riding up.  

Hob had been so entranced by that image--did Dream have a bit of an alcohol flush on, lighting up his pale cheeks?--that Dream had had to prompt him again to take his turn speaking. He had managed it just fine once he got going, happy as ever to have Dream listening to him.  

Dream had made a few encouraging noises, then gone quiet, until finally Hob heard a tiny, unmistakable snore. 

"OI!" Hob had shouted into the phone, and been rewarded with something that was almost certainly a snort and the clatter of a dropped phone.  

"Hob?" Dream had said, returning. 

"Drink some water, and lie down on your side to sleep," Hob had said firmly. "Your sister might not take you if you choke, but you don't want her to turn up and laugh at you, either."  

Dream had actually said, "Ugh, she would," before he hung up, and Hob had spent the rest of the day laughing to himself as those words echoed in his ears. 

He couldn't hear them now.  

It was something that had happened time and again. Each time he met with Dream, hanging on every one of the sparse words that dropped from his lips, he felt that he would have that voice etched on his memory, ringing in his ears, forever. For days after, he could hear Dream's words again, playing them over in his memory.  

But every time, before too long, he couldn't remember quite what those words sounded like. He might remember what the words were, but he couldn't hear them anymore. A few months on, he would forget the little quirks of Dream's expression. 

At some point, every time, he forgot Dream's face. 

He could remember what Dream looked like, generally: pale and black-haired, slim and tallish, dressed in black, obviously rich. But he couldn't bring Dream's actual face to mind, had to just wait out the century to see him again, to know him again. There you are. 

He'd already started forgetting after their belated meeting, when Dream turned up again, though Hob still hadn't known his name at that point. There had been a dream, first, and then his old stranger had just--turned up in a pub when Hob was out drinking, having his own miserable evening. He'd pulled out of it enough to realize that Dream was even worse off than he was, that Dream was on the precipice of something unimaginable, but nothing he said had changed any of that. 

And then he'd found himself attending Dream's bloody wake, which was how he'd learned who his oldest friend even was.  

He'd had about a week to try to resign himself to never having another reunion, never refreshing those fading memories ever again, no longer having even one person he could look forward to meeting again on the long road of his eternal life.  

And then Dream had turned up on his bloody doorstep: freshly human and tentatively immortal, as this new incarnation was technically his afterlife. 

Dream had been nearly as bewildered by it as Hob was, and had stayed with Hob for a fortnight. Learning to function in a human body had been undignified and frustrating, but Hob had done his best to smooth the way. He had accompanied Dream through his first experiences of human-sized emotions, which seemed to be something he had no idea how to handle, where had possessed at least a general theoretical understanding of the physically messy bits.  

After two weeks, though, he had seemed to be settling in, and Hob had let himself begin to think of what life might look like with his friend in it--and then Dream had announced that he needed more Life Experience and he was going off to find it. 

Hob knew he'd said it like that, the capital letters audible even though his new voice had lost some slight uncanny edge he'd always had before. He just couldn't hear it anymore, and he couldn't hear Dream's drunken rambling either. He scrolled down through the texts again, trying to hear how Dream would say the words, but he only caught an echo, the velvety depth of Dream's voice.  

It was late; he ought to stop fretting about this and sleep. There would be more texts from Dream tomorrow; sooner or later there would be another call, or Dream would turn up again. Everything was all right now; Dream was safe, and probably reasonably happy, out on his self-appointed quest to get the hang of being human. 

Hob just wanted to hear that from him. He just wanted to hear _anything_, so long as it was Dream. He hesitated another moment, but he had never been good at resisting temptation. He just had time to try to guess where Dream was--and therefore what time it was--before he hit the call button. 

It rang only twice before Dream picked up, sounding not just puzzled but properly disorientated, fuzzy with sleep. "'Lo? Hob? What's..." 

All the circling misery of the last few minutes lifted instantly. _There you are. That's you._ "Hi, love," Hob returned, falling back into his own bed. "I know it’s stupid, but I needed to hear your voice." 

There was a silence, but before Hob could take it back, or say something to give himself away even more, Dream said, "You could... do you think you'd like to--" 

"Yes," Hob said, sitting up again, feeling abruptly wide awake, ready for anything.  

"--Hear it more?" Dream finished.  

"Yes," Hob repeated, standing. "Yes, I--where--" 

"About five minutes," Dream said, which didn't make sense until he added, "it's a good thing you called, I didn't mean to doze off in the taxi." 

"Jet lag," Hob said, mouth running on autopilot as he looked frantically around his bedroom. It was in a bit of a state; he hadn't gotten properly settled into his own newest incarnation before Dream turned up, and in the last few days he'd been... more down than he'd realized until right now, when he wasn't anymore, at half two in the morning. "I keep telling you, you have to respect the circadian rhythm now you have one." 

"I have great respect for it," Dream said, sounding a little amused now. "Unfortunately--" he yawned, "international flight schedules do not, despite being entirely staffed by people who also need to sleep." 

"One of those mysteries we may never solve," Hob agreed. "Uh, your room's a bit--" 

"I will happily sleep on your kitchen floor at this point," Dream said, yawning again before he quite got all the words out. "Perhaps the stairs." 

"Well, we can do better than that, at least," Hob said, pulling on a pair of joggers and giving the covers a few quick tugs so the bed looked plausibly disheveled rather than like a place of insomniac torment. He dashed down the stairs to the front door, and threw back the locks, listening to Dream's quiet on the other side of the line. "Dream?" 

"Still here," Dream assured him, sounding a bit more alert now. "Just a few more blocks, I think." 

Hob leaned out the door, peering down his street, listening as if he would somehow know which car on another street was the one with Dream inside. "Are you..." Hob didn't even know how to finish the question, other than _here yet?_ which was a stupid one.  

"Yes," Dream said anyway, just as a car turned down Hob's street--a proper cab, not an Uber. Dream could be choosy about things like that. "I see you. I--I am very glad to see you." 

Hob raised and arm and waved, to be sure the cabbie would see him too, and cleared his throat before he could say, "Same to you, my friend." 

"Yes," Dream said dryly, even as the cab was pulling up, putting the rear door exactly level with the stairs to Hob's door. "I can see that." 

Hob glanced down at himself and realized that he was both shirtless and barefoot, and showing a wide strip of his pants on one side where he hadn't managed to pull the joggers all the way up. Hob sputtered, already starting to laugh at himself and unable to find a riposte; he looked up again and his breath stopped.  

Time stopped. 

Dream was on the pavement below him, straightening up out of the cab. He was looking straight at Hob, with just as much bright gladness in his face as the first time they'd seen each other again after their longest parting. 

Hob dropped his phone and darted down the stairs, colliding with Dream halfway and flinging his arms around him. He clung tight long after they were both steadied from the impact, pressing his face into Dream's messy hair. "Say something," Hob murmured, breathing in the not-too-recently-washed smell of him, soaking in the solidity of the angular body pressed up against his. 

"Your front door's closed behind you," Dream murmured. "And I think you've cracked the screen on your phone." 

"Bugger," Hob muttered, squeezing tighter; Dream's grip tightened in answer until Hob could feel his ribs creaking, and still neither of them showed any sign of letting go. "The door, I mean, that's a bother. The phone screen's been cracked for weeks." 

Dream gave a little _tsk_, pressed a kiss to the spot just before Hob's ear, and then let go all at once, sliding past him to retrieve his phone. Hob pressed his fingers to the spot where Dream's lips had pressed, and didn't manage to speak, or even think anything coherent, before Dream was straightening up again, phone in hand.  

"They can be replaced," Dream pointed out. "And you gave me a key before I left, so even the door is not such a great bother as that." 

"Yeah, I wasn't that worried," Hob said, fingers still pressed to the spot in front of his ear, staring at Dream, who was going just a bit pink. "Dream, you--" 

"You gave me a key," Dream repeated, making no move to get it out and unlock the door, still holding Hob's battered phone. "Before I left, you said. I could always. Come home." 

"Yeah," Hob said, and finally managed to drop his hand from his own face, reaching out with the same fingers to touch the brightening pink of Dream's cheek. "You always can, love. I always want to hear you, and I always want to see you." 

"I thought I--I thought perhaps--it might have been only..." Dream shook his head, giving up on putting it into words, but Hob didn't need him to spell it out; he'd worried himself that perhaps it was a problem that Dream only had him, only knew him. He'd known it was a good idea for Dream to go out into the world, even while he'd hated it. "But there is no one like you." 

"And no place like home?" Hob added lightly, because he couldn't not, even when he could see Dream's perfectly earnest expression, the steady dark intensity of his gaze.  

Dream snorted softly and put his hand over Hob's, pressing it to his cheek while he leaned in, closing the distance between them again.  

Hob started to tilt his head, ready to guide Dream into possibly his first kiss in a world where noses would not politely reshape themselves to stay out of the way, but Dream first pressed his forehead to Hob's, breathing deeply and saying nothing. Hob settled his other hand on Dream's cheek as well, keeping him close, breathing in for himself the reality of Dream here with him again, safe and sound and wanting to be here, of all the places in the world he might be exploring.  

"We should go inside," Dream murmured, and Hob just shivered at the secret sound of his voice before he made sense of the words.  

He tipped his head back to meet Dream's eyes, and found Dream smiling wryly. "I fear we may be carried away here on your front steps, otherwise." 

Hob dropped his hands to Dream's shoulders, where it was safe to grip as hard as he needed to while he let those words sink in, his whole body flashing hot at the possibilities. "Yeah. That's. Probably wise, yeah." 

Dream nodded, still smiling, and held up a familiar key. "Shall we?" 

Hob forced himself to drop his hands and turn to go back up the stairs. Dream followed him, close enough that Hob could almost feel him; when Hob turned the knob and realized that the door had in fact locked behind him, he had no time at all to be frustrated by it before Dream pressed up against his back, bringing his hands--and, crucially, his key--to join Hob's.  

"You gave me a key," Dream said, so close to Hob's ear that his lips brushed it, so deep and warm that Hob could drown in it. "You knew I would want to come home to you. And now here I am--" the key slid home, and Hob bit his lip to hold back a noise at that altogether unsubtle promise of things to come. "Coming home. To you. With you." 

Hob pushed the door open, but before stepping inside he asked, knowing it was ridiculous to hesitate, with Dream plastered up against him and hesitating anyway, "Will you tell me again tomorrow?" 

"I will tell you again every day," Dream said without hesitation. "Every time I come home to you, wherever that may be, it will always be you." 

"Right then," Hob said, and whirled in Dream's arms to kiss him as he stumbled back inside. Dream followed him, and didn't stop kissing him except to laugh when they staggered into a heap at the top of the inside stair. Hob tugged him back down into another kiss, and let Dream's voice echo in his ears a while longer.  

[blushweddinggowns]

His mind was such a mess, Eddie barely knew what he was thinking anymore. But he did know to be annoyed as fuck when his phone rang. He had kept the ringer on high, despite the fact that the only calls he got were from his inner circle asking what the hell was going on. He managed to ignore most of those. But on the off chance it was Chrissy stuck on her layover he didn’t want to miss it.

He didn’t bother checking who it was when he answered. He knew it wouldn’t be Steve. 

“Hello?” Eddie mumbled into the receiver, “Chris?”

“That better mean Chrissy,” Someone huffed, “If you’re seeing someone else already I think that gives me a legal right to kill you.”

Eddie jolted up at the sound of Steve’s voice, “S-Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” He sighed on the other end, sounding way too casual for someone who just turned Eddie’s world upside down, “So how has Europe been? Or was it California?”

Eddie cringed, at a loss for what to say. It wasn’t helping that his heart was nearly pounding out of his chest, “Oh. I-I didn’t- I mean- I’m sorry.”

Steve snorted on the other end, “Yeah, you are. No social media my ass.”

“It’s - I don’t usually use it that much?” Eddie stammered out, “It’s uh, mostly managed by a team but I have the password and - and this is not helping me at all. Is it?”

“No,” Steve agreed, “No, it’s not.”

“Steve I- I know I can’t say anything to fix this. But I-I didn’t want things to turn out like this. I get it, I’m an asshole but you weren’t a joke Steve. I’m the joke. I’m the idiot-you- I mean- I,” he was rambling, badly. Trying and failing to get everything out. 

He had been too lost in the sauce of his own pity party to ever think about this point. Now he was blowing it.

Or so he thought.

Steve sighed again, “Okay, that’s enough of that. Come open the door. I’m outside.”

It took a second for that to compute, “Huh?”

“I’m outside of your door,” Steve said again, “Are you going to let me in or not?”

Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. 

Eddie rushed to stand, almost instantly eating it when the blood didn’t catch up to his brain. He might have neglected a few bodily needs during the past few days. It just wasn’t enough to stop him from rushing to the door, knocking into every other thing on the way. 

But what was a broken lamp and a few bruises compared to true love?

He wretched the door open, his phone still stupidly at his ear. 

There Steve was, waiting for him. Eddie’s mind had decided to keep the idiot routine going because all he could really do was stare at him, at a total loss for what to do next. 

Steve frowned at him, “Jesus, Eddie. You look… not good.”

“I know,” Eddie agreed, running a hand through his greasy hair. He hadn’t exactly been checking any mirrors but he could do the math. No showers, barely any sleep, constant crying. Now that he thought about it he’s pretty sure he hadn’t even changed since their fight. It was bad. Only made worse by the fact Steve was here to see it.

Steve was still frowning as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him to lean on. 

They stared at each other while Eddie’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest. Is this what a heart attack fet like?

“I don’t really know what to do now,” Steve admitted after another beat of silence, “I kind of thought I would but… I don’t.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie tried, taking a cautious step forward. But Steve put a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

He took a deep breathe, “Eddie, what I’m about to say isn’t to hurt you, okay? I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

Eddie swallowed, his throat dry and his voice quiet when he answered, “Okay.”

“I think you should go take a shower,” Steve said gently, “Then we can talk.”

from the next chapter of this fic

[gradientsys]

thinking about how important rose asking roxy if she liked wizards was, and how important her answer was. by roxy saying she actually does love wizards it kinda forces rose to recontextualise every action mom took with the new lens that she actually DID like wizards and it wasn't nearly the passive aggressive gesture rose thought. it's 100% clear that interests were transferred between each kid's alpha and beta counterpart, that much is obvious, so with rose now knowing that roxy actually did like wizards, its possible for her and us to assume that for the most part, everything mom lalonde did was out of genuine care for rose, but saddled with the pressure of the end of the world and a susceptibility to alcoholism, she just had no idea how to show it, and still wanted to give rose what she saw as a normal, feminine childhood (one that she never had if u want to get transgender.) and shit like this makes me LOVE homestuck to DEATH because you can glean and interpret literally so much about rose, roxy, and mom lalonde from these lines

and sure rose does explicitly say that it puts a lot of things into perspective about roxy and mom but the same thing applies here. rose says that its her fault pretty lightly, but there's so much more to it. rose has gone from holding so much bitter contempt for her mother to idolising roxy (and obviously mom posthumously) as her perfect mother who little rose just couldn't understand. this journey of blaming herself started with her drinking on the meteor and meeting roxy is the next milestone in it. it's just the perfect encapsulation of roses own loathing, either she projects her hatred onto her surroundings, or inward. she projects her hatred for being caged and her need to be seen by blowing up sburb gates and aggressively rejecting sburbs quests. she then projects it outward against kanaya and jade in small amounts, and then onto jack resulting in her death. (obviously there was other motivations for how rose acted with kanaya and jack - a crush and jack murdering her mother - but rose chronically needs to be seen and needs attention, which she got from kanaya meddling into her problems like a concerned mother would #mommyissues and jack killing mom was a highly extreme tipping point in her turn towards the horrorterrors.) the same pattern happens with mom. rose sees mom as a passive aggressive hag who simply didn't understand rose and sought to make her life difficult, but now she's a loving mother who rose just couldn't appreciate as a child. both of her viewpoints are based around something that a singular party couldn't do, rather than a more holistic approach. again she projects outwards and then inwards, and it's so important how she does this. and there is some truth to her view of mom post-meeting roxy! we can interpret that mom lalonde was a kind hearted, well intentioned mother who really loved rose and played roses games to feel closer to her daughter, but she was 100% an unfit mother, and rose is unable to accept the nuanced outlook - mom lalonde was by all means a caring person who really did love rose and care about her interests, but rose was still absolutely neglected/abused by mom lalonde. and personally, i think it is SO important that rose thinks this. the fact that the characters in homestuck are kids is obviously imperative, and I think roses evolution in thinking about her mother is such a raw microcosm in a child not being able to accept that they genuinely were abused, even with evidence to the contrary. it's also a testament to just how thematically rich and rife with content to analyse homestuck is, and just how amazingly subtle it can be. hussie absolutely glosses over serious subjects like this in a kind of slapdash way sometimes, roses alcoholism is a pretty big example, but forgetting the author entirely, it's an incredibly compelling way to show a scared, traumatised child trying desperately to understand her upbringing and her parent. i think rose would still be pretty stubborn about it into earth c days, but I feel like she would definitely accept it in time. she'd probably have a similar arc to jade honestly, because she too has so much to accept in regards to her childhood being Bad, Actually. dave would also provide insight on this and living with kanaya, the person she projected her desperate, gnawing need for motherly care on when she was 13, would definitely give her an environment and perspective to reconcile with her having a bad childhood. with a decent support network and Actually facing her internal hatred and biases, probably kicking and screaming because that's just how rose is, rose would be able to accept that mom lalonde neglected her

[wizardpink]

Hi! Random question, but do you think the show will have Daniel call Armand "boss" now that the Maître thing happened? I know it's very prevalent in the books, but it might have different and/or interesting Implications™ in the show.

This question reminded me of one of my favorite episodes of the It's Always Sunny podcast. Stay with me here because we are going on a journey.

If there's any journalist in the world, living right now, who doesn't have a boss, it's Daniel Molloy.

There was a post recently that said something about how the point in the story where the timeline shifts the most dramatically from the books to the show is in the early 80s, when Armand DOESN'T turn Daniel into a vampire. I think that is a major part of why the Devil's Minion storyline in the show scared and angered so many fans in the finale. It's so different from the story we fell in love with! But we were so focused on Armand being different (possibly turning Daniel out of spite) that we forgot that Daniel is the one who is really different, in a really genius and wonderful departure from the books.

In the books we know human Daniel primarily as a man in his early 20s through his early 30s, but who he is in his early 30s is extremely heavily influenced by all the things that happened to him in that previous decade. Meeting Louis, meeting Armand, being pursued by Armand, and finally becoming Armand's lover.

But show Daniel had a great big reset button pressed on his life either at the end of the interview or at the end of his and Armand's romance, and he got to experience a life that book Daniel never did, and as a result it shaped him into a man that I think book Daniel always would have become, until he got derailed. And it's fascinating how BOTH paths make perfect sense even though they start at the same pivotal point!

Book Daniel meets vampires and then immediately is sucked into their world permanently. It becomes his realm as well. And in that realm are hierarchies and power dynamics that he has to exist within. He becomes subservient in ways to Armand, to Marius, etc etc. I could go on but you know what I mean.

Show Daniel however! Show Daniel meets vampires and gets pushed OUT of their world back into the world of humanity. And yes, in that realm are hierarchies and power dynamics that he has to exist within. But they're upheld by human beings! People who are no better than Daniel himself, and certainly no more frightening than the shit he's already been through whether he can remember it or not. Show Daniel pursues any story, any lead he wants no matter how dangerous or powerful the subject matter may be. He writes what he wants when he wants, and it works because he's fucking good at it. And it doesn't always work out for him! He says he's been fired and rehired, he's been nearly killed when an interview subject gets skittish or tired of his bullshit. But the point is, he went out and he made his own damn rules. He's brash and opinionated and has zero filter. He'll say whatever he wants to anyone, demand answers and truth from anyone. And no one is gonna tell him he can't. They're gonna have to drag him out of here or kill him to shut him up.

Armand and Daniel's maker/fledgling, devil/minion dynamic is going to be SO DIFFERENT from the books and yet JUST as juicy because the important things -- the love, the longing, the passion, the understanding, the recognition -- that is all still there. But I don't see 69 year old Daniel Molloy falling over himself to worship and cowtow to Armand. My DREAM is we see BOTH dynamics just to juxtapose the two, and the strife it creates as two people who once loved each other try to get back to that place now that they aren't those people anymore.

So tl;dr, yes and no. If he says it, it's going to be like, one time and so dripping with sarcasm Armand will be fighting his fangs again. If we get an earnest pet name it'll be very private I feel (as opposed to Armand who would call Daniel his beloved in line at the post office).

Also on a personal note, "boss" is so deeply unsexy. Goons and henchmen call the Joker boss, I don't want that haha. Oh and also I have like zero recollection of him calling Armand "boss" in the books, that's a detail that my brain mulched up and ate years ago I guess. So I was the wrong person to ask this. Thanks for reading though! 😂

[kpopfanfictrash]

Love to Hate (Ch. 12)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: multiple orgasms (male + female), fingering, breast play, dirty talk, somewhat rough sex, oversensitivity, oral (female), cum play, sex without a condom (with other forms of birth control), spanking 

Word Count: 20,122

Seven hours. Seven hours, or four hundred and twenty minutes until you can breathe freely.

Lips pursed, you survey yourself in the warped bathroom mirror. Tonight’s launch party will last several hours, ending whenever Seokjin rounds up the final group for karaoke. You have the aquarium booked until dawn, just in case.

Twisting around, you examine yourself from behind. Although its neckline is high, the dress exposes your back, its fabric dipping low to end just above your ass. Already, you worry it’ll be too much but before you can talk yourself out of it, your phone buzzes on the counter.

Whipping around, you’re disappointed to find it’s only an email. Exhaling, you drop your phone to your clutch and exit the bathroom – only to immediately trip over Dante, splayed out on the ground. He’s utterly exhausted after your walk, which is a good thing. Hopefully, he’ll wreak less chaos at Jimin’s.

Gathering Dante’s things, you pull his leash from its hook. Olya and Hoseok arrived over an hour ago and have been playing video games at Jimin’s while you got ready. Although you’re the last one again, this time isn’t your fault. Things kept going wrong at the venue, resulting in you being the last one to leave. This cut your hair and make-up time nearly in half.

“Here we go, Dante,” you sing-song, grabbing his collar to clip. “Let’s visit Jimin! Isn’t that exciting? You like Jimin.”

Dante gives you some side-eye which says that yes, he likes Jimin, but he also sees right through you. Clipping on his leash, you stand and tug Dante towards the door.

The moment you enter the hall, you hear your friends shouting. Not in an angry way, but in the way which ensues whenever they game together. (“I said, LEFT, Jimin! As in – not right!” “The only thing not right is your memory, Hoseok, since you definitely said go right!”)

No one answers your first knock, so you try again – louder. Olya yells something at the game and you snort, since her threats are more vicious than either of the men.

Finally, on the third knock, someone hears.

“COMING,” Hoseok calls, followed by the loud thunk of his controller hitting the table. “I hope that’s you, Y/N, since we’re leaving whether you’re dressed or – ah,” he says, pulling open the door. “Good. It is you.”

Dante bolts forward the second he fits through the door, bounding across the room towards the sleeping Peaches. When she doesn’t wake, Dante takes this in stride and flops down beside her.

“What if it hadn’t been me?” you ask Hoseok, brushing past. “Your threat would’ve been wasted.”

“Never wasted,” he says. “Merely misplaced.”

Glancing upward, Olya’s eyes widen when she sees your outfit. “Damn, Y/N!” she gasps. “That dress is amazing! You look perfect and – shit, you’re ready. Okay,” she says, jumping up from the couch. “Where’s your bathroom, Jimin? I need to go before we leave.”

“First door on the left,” he says without looking up.

Olya disappears down the hall, leaving you with the rest. Not returning to the game, Hoseok stoops by the couch to gather Olya’s things. Watching him do this, you smile. It’s nice for Hoseok to be with someone – he’s usually so focused on work, he barely thinks about himself. Like calls to like, you suppose.

Turning around, Hoseok sees you watching and pauses. “What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you sigh. “It’s just nice seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like if Olya jumped off a bridge, you’d be right behind her,” Jimin says, pressing pause on his game. Glancing upward, he blinks. “Whoa, Y/N.”

“I know!” Olya squeals, exiting the bathroom. “That’s what I’m saying! Y/N is ready to break hearts tonight.”

“No – No!” Alarmed, you shoot Hoseok a look. “That’s not the vibe I’m giving off, is it?”

Hoseok shrugs, not seeming to care either way. Offering Olya an arm, he helps her put on her shoes. “I don’t know. You look nice, Y/N.”

“Nice.” Olya wobbles. “You look more than nice, Y/N, you look hot.”

Feeling your face start to burn, you turn around. “Okay, enough,” you groan. “Let’s head out. Jimin – are you good with Dante?”

Dante, who is currently snoozing beside Peaches, doesn’t stir at his name. Jimin looks down, and then nods. “I think we’re fine,” he says. “Have fun! See you all tomorrow?”

Hoseok and Olya nod, and you give a noncommittal shrug. You still haven’t decided if you’ll want social interaction after tonight – especially not in the form of two happy couples. Jimin seems to understand, and on your way out the door, you give Dante a wave. He completely ignores this, too busy pretending to sleep beside his (one-sided) best friend.

Your descent to the lobby is treacherous, made even worse by your high heels and dress. The shoes are fine on flat surfaces, but your building’s staircase is exactly the opposite. At least these are the only stairs to climb tonight.

When you reach the front doors, you sigh in relief. Seokjin is already waiting, idling at the curb in a different car than last time. The night at Yoongi's restaurant seems ages ago, even though it was less than two weeks.

A knot in your stomach tightens. You haven’t seen Jungkook since he came to Clean Ocean and asked to become a donor. He’s attending the launch party, though – both he and Namjoon confirmed this via email. The contract between you has also been signed, neatly expedited with no objections from legal.

Except – that first part isn’t quite true.

Although you haven’t seen Jungkook since Wednesday, you’ve talked to him. At first, it was just a question he texted, clarifying a point in the contract. Then Jungkook asked if you needed help with the launch party, to which your answer was a resounding no but then he mentioned a contractor and now – absently, you scroll through your texts.

Most are professional but every now and then, something slips past which makes you wonder.

“Y/N!” Seokjin rolls down the window. “What are you doing? Get in here before you’re late to your own party.”

Returning your phone to your clutch, you hurry in. Clambering after Hoseok, you buckle your seatbelt and smooth out your dress. Olya claims the passenger seat, being prone to motion sickness. Seokjin is in the driver’s seat, his moon roof open to let in the breeze.

As he pulls from the curb, Seokjin glances in the mirror. “Damn, Y/N.” He whistles. “Is that dress work appropriate?”

Worried, you glance down. “I don’t know – is it?”

“Ignore him, Y/N.” Yanking down the mirror, Olya starts to re-apply lipstick. “The amount of leg I’m showing is way worse than your back. Don’t let them bully you.”

“Yeah,” you say, lifting your chin. “Don’t bully me, Seokjin.”

Seokjin bats his eyelashes. “Who, me?” Before you can respond, his gaze moves to Hoseok. “Olya has a point, though. Hoseok – why aren’t you showing as much leg as your girlfriend?”

“Hers are far superior to mine.”

Still touching up her makeup, Olya reaches over the console and squeezes Hoseok’s thigh. Hiding a grin, you lean back in your seat as Seokjin turns up his music. A Top 40 pop song blares but after a while, you somehow find your phone returned to your lap.

Open to your texts.

Your finger hovering above a certain thread.

You know Jungkook hasn’t texted. You know this and yet, a tiny voice in your mind wonders what-if. What-if Jungkook has decided not to come, what if he reneges his RSVP, what-if –

You press on the thread.

Stomach dropping, you see you were right – Jungkook hasn’t texted. His last messages are displayed onscreen and, absent-minded, you scroll.

Jungkook: you know what concept has always eluded me? [Friday, 1:07 AM]

Y/N: sleep? [Friday, 7:02 AM]

Jungkook: always. But no – I was referring to the dress code. What, exactly, does ‘dressy casual’ mean? Isn’t that an oxymoron? [Friday, 7:31 AM]

Y/N: Google is free, Jeon [Friday, 8:10 AM]

Y/N: okay, so Olya says ‘dressy casual’ means a combination of relaxed and formal. Basically, no jeans but you can be more casual than black tie [Friday, 8:14 AM]

Jungkook: got it [Friday, 8:20 AM]

Jungkook: I lied. That doesn’t help at all [Friday, 9:05 AM]

Y/N: lol what do you mean? What are you stuck on? [Friday, 9:42 AM]

Jungkook: Is a suit too dressy? [Friday, 9:50 AM]

Y/N: depends on the suit. Send me a pic [Friday, 9:53 AM]

Jungkook: *jpeg* [Friday, 9:55 AM]

Paused on the photo, your breath catches again. Looking at it now is as devastating as the first time. Jungkook must have worked from home on Friday since you recognize the tile of his bathroom behind him.

The photo is only from the neck down, but the way Jungkook fills out his suit is exquisite. The color is black, but lace panels dress up the white shirt beneath it, and several buttons are undone. The overall effect is devastating.

In your ear, Hoseok whistles. “Who’s sending you pics, Y/N?”

Startled, you fumble and nearly drop your phone.

“No one,” you blurt, your face burning.

Seokjin’s ears perk up in the front. “Y/N is looking at nudes in a car full of people?” He sounds overly gleeful about the possibility. “I guess that’s one way to relax.”

“I’m not looking at nudes. Jungkook asked for my thoughts on his suit – that’s all.”

“Jungkook?” Olya turns, surprised. “Are you talking about our new donor, Jungkook?”

Frozen in the backseat, you realize your mistake. Although you’re friends with Olya, you were trying your best to keep the Jungkook mess separate from work. It’s bad enough you have to work with him going forward without all of your employees knowing you messed up.

“I – we, uh, know each other,” you say.

“Ah.” Olya adopts a sly grin. “Nice. He’s hot.”

Hoseok’s smile abruptly disappears. “Why don’t we change the topic? Y/N has enough to worry about without thinking of Jungkook.”

Thankful, you nod and Olya leans over the console to pat Hoseok’s knee.

“It’s cute when you’re jealous,” she says before she pulls back.

Hoseok stares, and then sputters, “I’m not… jealous! Objectively, Jungkook is hot.”

“Can we please stop talking about him?” you beg, a bit pained.

Olya winces, mouthing sorry before facing forward. Returning your phone to your clutch, you stare out the window as Seokjin turns up the volume. His playlist has lapsed into what sounds like pop-ified sea shanties, something you deem oddly fitting with the night ahead. You’ve nearly pushed the topic of Jungkook from mind when –

“So.” Seokjin sounds like he’s holding back laughter. “Jungkook sent you a suit pic?”

You slump low in your seat. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” Hoseok says. “I saw a bunch of your texts while you scrolled. You were talking all day to him on Friday.”

“Hey!” you huff. “Privacy, Hobi.”

“The man asked you what he should wear, though,” Seokjin says.

“And? He didn’t understand the dress code.”

“Didn’t understand the – okay.” Seokjin snorts. “Y/N, that man has been attending formal gatherings since he was old enough to sit up. Jungkook knows what to wear when the invite says dressy casual.”

These words give you pause, since Seokjin is right. You aren’t sure why you didn’t think of this before. Maybe part of you felt it was simply more believable than thinking Jungkook texted you to talk.

“Maybe it’s been a while,” Olya says, defending you. “I’m sure whatever Y/N thinks is correct. She knows him best, after all.”

You smile at Olya, grateful for the interjection. Mercifully, Seokjin allows the matter to drop, turning his head to stare at the road. You, on the other hand, turn the matter over in your mind. No matter what people do, you always tend to assume the worst.

It’s far easier to assume this and be surprised than assume something positive and be let down. Objectively, the fact that Jungkook texted you is a good sign. Much easier to believe it’s coincidental than he actually likes you.

Even if he does though, you can’t allow yourself to be drawn in. Not when so much is riding on tonight’s party. You need to be one hundred percent focused, and Jungkook is nothing but a distraction.

A ridiculously gorgeous distraction who might return your feelings.

Pushing this hopelessly from mind, the rest of the ride passes and soon enough, you pass beneath the aquarium’s arch. Seokjin drops you off at the front since no one is wearing the right shoes for cobblestones. Already, you run through an endless to-do list in your mind – but the moment you enter, all of it fades.

When you left earlier, the venue was a work in progress. The hanging trellis was only half-lifted, none of the lights were lit and packaging material cluttered the floor. Now, you step into paradise.

The tanks on the walls cast blueish green light, its effect softened by golden orbs hanging from the ceiling. Between the lights, greenery drapes to give the impression of algae, as though the dance floor itself has sunk underwater. To your right, double doors lead to a patio with a view of the ocean.

Staring in awe, you turn in a full circle.

Hoseok comes to a stop. “Whoa,” he breathes. “You really outdid yourself tonight, Olya.”

Beaming, she waves. “It was nothing.”

“It was something,” you argue. “This place is absolutely gorgeous, Olya. Our donors will love it.”

“Hopefully, they love it so much they cough up more money.” She laughs. “Okay, enough with the compliments. I need to check about a thousand things before guests start arriving – Hoseok, are you coming with?”

He nods and follows suit, glancing at you to ensure you’re alright. You wave him off with a nod, returning to your mental task list. Guests will start arriving in an hour, which is no time at all.

After speaking to catering – not Min Yoongi, unfortunately – checking the sound system, and running through a list of approved songs with the DJ, you stop by the bar to catch your breath. Pulling your phone from your clutch, you’re about to check texts when someone calls your name.

Glancing upward, you spot Olya rushing across the floor. She moves like a woman on a mission and slowly, you return your phone without looking.

 “Y/N,” Olya says, skidding to a stop. “Thank god I caught you.”

You stare at her, bewildered. “I’m here all night, Olya – is something wrong?”

“I -well.” She straightens. “Nothing is wrong, exactly. It’s just I was checking the guest list – searching for last-minute cancellations, that sort of thing.”

“Okay…”

Her lips tighten. “I wasn’t thinking earlier. I was so caught up in arriving, I didn’t think but now, when I saw the list again, it hit me.”

“What hit you?” you ask, dread unspooling like thread in your stomach.

“I gave Jungkook a plus one.”

“And?”

“And.” Olya sighs. “Jungkook said yes. He said yes for him plus a date. Which means he’s planning to bring someone this evening.”

Staring at Olya, every sound seems to fade. Reality steps forward to burst your bubble. Jungkook is bringing someone. Jungkook is bringing a date. After donating to Clean Ocean like a goddamn knight in shining armor, he’s decided to bring someone to the fundraiser he saved.

Self-blame instantly kicks into high gear. If you’d only been honest with him earlier, responded in a more expressive tone, maybe he would have – but no. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to calm.  

The two of you go around and around, and no one ever wins. You didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt, he didn’t ask, and you both end up hurting each other. If Jungkook is here with a date, you’ll deal with it, just like you have with everything else. He’s not the most important part of tonight.

Either way, you need to make it through the party in one piece. You can figure out what to do about Jungkook tomorrow.

“I’m so sorry,” Olya says, wringing her hands. “I debated whether or not to tell you, but figured you finding out now was better than Jungkook showing up and –”

“No – no,” you interrupt. “You’re right. It’s better I know now. We gave him a plus one, right?” you add, injecting your words with false cheeriness. “He’s fully entitled to use it.”

Olya hesitates. “I mean, debatable. He didn’t have to bring someone. Whether you’re together or not, he’s been texting you all week. It’s rude to bring someone else!”

“Maybe,” you sigh. Your next words are more difficult. “But despite how I feel about him, we’re not dating. We haven’t been… anything for a long time. It was nice of Jungkook to donate, but it wasn’t romantic. I – I actually need to go check something,” you say, choking a little.

With a sympathetic glance, Olya nods and steps aside. Clearly, she understands your retreat for what it is – a hasty excuse for running away.

Entering the nearest bathroom, you pause at the mirror as you’re struck by an immediate sense of déjà vu. The last time this happened was at your parents’ party. That night, you vowed to forget about Jungkook and now, here you are. Stuck in the same situation.

Stiffening, you meet your own gaze. No – that’s not true. Back then, you were crushed by a situation of your own making. Tonight, you have the chance to make things right. Strengthened by the thought, you stay long enough to gather yourself and then leave – only to walk straight into Seokjin.

He seems to have come straight from Olya, and it takes nearly ten minutes to convince Seokjin you’re fine. (“You can kill him after the party, Seokjin, I swear.” “Why not now?” “Death will be equally satisfying at a location where I have plausible deniability.” “Don’t care.” “Think about Yoongi! Would he really go out with the guy suspected of murdering his best friend?”)

“First of all,” Seokjin declares. “I’m too good to be suspected of anything. But fine! If you really want, I’ll pull back. Just say the word, though.”

“I appreciate that, Seokjin,” you say. “But right now, I have to go host this event.”

“Ah – right.” He nods, slightly chastised. “Fair enough.”

Stepping aside, Seokjin sheepishly allows you to return to the list. Your remaining minutes are spent triple-checking the guests, stopping again to chat with security and adjusting the timing of the hors d’oeuvres. By the time you find Olya, your first guest is arriving, and you’ve barely had time to think about Jungkook.

Or – this is so until you’re confronted by a black, shiny town car pulling to the curb. Stomach sinking, you prepare for his appearance, only for Javier and his husband to step from the car.

Breaking into a smile, you wave, and they walk towards you.

“Well, I never.” Javier smiles, taking hold of your hand. “This place looks stunning, Y/N.”

Glancing around, you can’t help but agree. “Thank you,” you say, ushering them in. “And hello to you, too, Alex. I’m afraid I can’t take any credit for tonight, though,” you add as you enter the main room. “The theme is all Olya.”

“When I see her, I’ll sing her praises,” laughs Javier. “But don’t forget tonight is an accomplishment for you, too! Do you remember our first fundraiser?” he adds, turning to Alex.

Alex nods. “That little bar off the highway. How could I forget?”

Both laugh in remembrance.

“In the back of that gas station!” Javier tsks. “Shut down, I hear. But look at you now! Renting an entire aquarium – Clean Ocean has certainly come a long way.”

“It’s a shock to me, too,” you say, turning to face them.

Wryly, Javier shakes his head. “Your success will never surprise me, Y/N. If anyone has the ability to change the world, it would be you.”

Face heating, you find yourself unable to think of a response. One isn’t necessary though as, realizing other guests have arrived, Alex and Javier say goodbye and head for the bar. Nerves flood your stomach, anticipating Jungkook again but instead, Indra Gupta and his wife appear through the door.

“Y/N!” he calls, heading for you. “What a splendid night! Jaya and I are thrilled to be here – we can’t thank you enough for inviting us.”

“Of course,” you say, shaking their hands. “Thank you both for coming.”

When they pull back, there’s a pause until Jaya coughs. Hastily, Indra reaches inside his coat pocket to withdraw an envelope.

“I almost forgot,” he says, handing this over. “I felt bad attending a second Clean Ocean event without any sort of donation, so please find enclosed our contract. My office will contact you Monday to arrange the details – for next year,” he adds, noticing your expression. “I know you needed funds now, but we’re unfortunately all fiscally tied up.”

“No – no, that’s fine,” you say, taking the envelope. “I’m excited to have you as a future donor. And please, don’t worry about the funding right now – we found the money.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Jaya exclaims.

Indra perks up. “Anyone I know?”

“Indra,” she laughs, swatting his arm. “We’re monopolizing the poor woman. Thank you again for inviting us,” she adds. “Now, let’s get you a drink. Lovely to see you again, Y/N!”

“Thank you,” you call as they leave. “Truly.”

They also disappear towards the bar, leaving you somewhat dazed. Eventually, you come to and stride across the floor in search of Olya. Guests are still arriving, and it wouldn’t do to lose Indra’s proposal before you can sign.

Finding her by the kitchen, you hand Olya the contract, and she promises to take good care of it. By the time you return, enough people have arrived to form a line at the bar. Setting to work, you put on your best host smile to greet your guests.

Nearly an hour passes before you have time for a break. Sagging against the nearest bar, you pull out your phone to double-check the guest list. Based on your internal count, nearly everyone has arrived.

Everyone – but one.

Pushing thoughts of Jungkook away, you accept the glass of champagne handed to you by the bartender. Taking a slow sip, you turn around to scan the party.

Most of your attendees have escaped to the patio, making this your next stop. Heading in this direction, you pause beneath the arch to take in the view. Far below you, waves crash against the sand in a muffled roar. Ahead of you, moonlight cuts through glittering ocean waves.

You aren’t the only one amazed by the view; most people stand about you in groups, chatting happily while the moon rises. At least no one will call your event boring, you think as you move – only to stop dead in your tracks, spotting a familiar profile.

Abruptly, you whirl and plunge into the crowd.

Heading in the opposite direction, you drain your champagne and set the empty glass down. Reaching the railing, your hands clutch at the metal, willing your heartbeat to slow.

Several moments pass before your breathing steadies. Exhaling lowly, you stare into the waves. Sure, you can hobnob with the rich and famous but throw one ex-whatever-Jungkook-is into the mix and you immediately flee. No matter how prepared you thought you were, a part of you can’t stand seeing him with someone else.

When someone enters your peripheral, you go still. After a long moment, you turn and are flooded with relief when you find Seokjin before you.

Taking a long sip of his whiskey, he stares at the waves. “Jungkook is here.”

“Ah.”

“Inside, I think.”

“Right.” Bolstering your nerves, you nod. “Is he here with his date?”

Seokjin glances your way, his hair whipped by the wind. “I didn’t see, but I heard someone mention he came with a woman.”

“I see.”

You stay there for a moment, debating what to do before realizing it’s now or never. If you wait any longer, you’ll convince yourself to go home. Besides, waiting for Jungkook to find you is passive. By seeking him out, you place yourself in the driver’s seat.

Seokjin watches you carefully. “Are you alright?”

“I will be,” you say. “After I go greet Jungkook and his guest.”

“You seem… oddly calm,” he observes.

“I am calm.”

“Not a good calm.” Seokjin pauses. “Serial killer calm.”

Subtle, you lift a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly concerned about Jungkook’s well-being?”

“I’m not,” he assures you. “But I like you, Y/N. It’d be a shame if you went to prison.”

“Thanks.”

“Because you wouldn’t survive.”

“Okay,” you say, turning around. “That’s enough of a pep talk. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye!” Seokjin calls, waving you off. “Good luck!”

Striding away, you leave Seokjin behind to enter the crowd. Externally, you hope you portray a façade of total calm because on the inside, you’re sweating. Each mental scenario is worse than the last, replacing each other in your mind like bad movie reels.

What-if Jungkook decided to bring Giselle, the woman from the fundraiser. What-if he brought someone from work – someone who’s strong, successful, and not afraid of commitment, unlike you.

Stomach dropping, you force yourself to continue. Each step you take is instantly forgotten, fading to past as you face your future. Inside, you scan the length of the aquarium. Every person you pass you half-expect to see Jungkook and when they’re not, you find yourself disappointed.

Wandering further in, you say hello to several guests and greet their plus ones. By the time you’ve made a full lap, you’re starting to wonder if Seokjin’s intel was right – which is the moment you see him.

Feet stuttering to a halt, you stare when Jungkook fully appears. A couple drifts past you, previously concealing him from your view. Greenish-blue light washes over his features, blurring his face when he looks away.

You wish you’d had foresight to refill your glass since Jungkook isn’t alone. Turned away, he responds to someone by his side – a petite, demure someone, by the looks of it since they barely reach Jungkook’s shoulder. Forcing yourself to keep walking, you take several steps forward.

At this point, there’s no other option. Either you run and they see you, which would be humiliating, or you continue, and they greet you, which will be devastating.

Stuck in a difficult situation, all you can do is walk. You’re close enough to hear then, when Jungkook throws his head back to laugh. The sound stops you again, staring at him in confusion. Out of anything that could have happened, him laughing is the worst. Laughter means his date knows Jungkook well enough to make him laugh.

Which means she’s important.

Stomach roiling, you consider whether to flee when Jungkook suddenly turns and locks eyes.

Surprise crosses his features, followed by something you don’t understand. You stare back at him, frozen until you realize you need to do something.

“Mr. Jeon,” you intone, closing the distance between you. “Thank you so much for coming. I want to personally thank you for–”

“Y/N,” Jungkook blurts, finding his voice.

You falter, thrown by his excitement.

“I’m so glad you found us,” he hastens, “because there’s someone here I want you to meet.”

“Oh?” you say, careful.

Although it’s been weeks since you and Jungkook were anything, this feels like a strange level of enthusiasm for having his current date meet his ex, well – whatever you are.

Stepping back, Jungkook reveals the woman standing by his side. “Y/N, this is my aunt – Jeanette Mason. Aunt Jeanette, this is Y/N, the owner of Clean Ocean.”

His aunt. This is Jeanette Mason, Jungkook’s aunt.

Time seems to slow. The woman standing before you is older than Jungkook by at least thirty years. Not that this means anything, but she’s holding his elbow in a maternal gesture and again, Jungkook introduced her as his aunt.

“Mrs. Mason,” you repeat, your words faint.

Jeanette gives her nephew a sly look. “I know who she is, Kookie,” she scolds, patting his hand. “Am I, or am I not, the one who set you up?”

Cheeks turning slightly red, Jungkook lowers his head. “You can’t just say things like that,” he mutters in her ear.

“And why not?” she demands, not bothering to lower her voice. “It’s lovely to meet you at last, Y/N. I hear such wonderful things about you from your mother.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “From my… mother?”

Seeing your expression, she can’t help but laugh. “Yes, well.” Jeanette shrugs. “What I deem to be wonderful, and what your mother deems to be wonderful are two rather different things, I suppose. Your mother is quite the opinionated woman, is she not?”

“She… yes, she is,” you manage to say.

“I’ve known your mother for a long time. She’s mentioned her daughter before – usually in exasperated tones, mind you, over your wonderful charity. And the very first person I thought of was my nephew.” Beaming, Jeanette turns to face Jungkook. “He always used to go on about the ocean and the environment when he was younger.”

“Oh?” you muse, glancing at Jungkook. “Is that so?”

Jungkook seems as though he wishes the earth would swallow him whole. He must not have anticipated how his aunt could embarrass him, which makes you smile.

Forlorn, his aunt sighs. “It’s a shame you two didn’t hit it off. I know so many people think Jungkook is like his father, but he has nothing in common with that cold man. He’s so much more like his mother. An absolute angel, that woman.”

“I’ve heard that,” you say softly. “And I agree, he is wonderful.”

Sharply, Jungkook looks at you and some of his color fades. Unable to hold his gaze, you force yourself to look elsewhere.

“Well.” Jeanette drains her glass. “It was very nice meeting you, Y/N. Jungkook has been talking my ear off about how wonderful you are.”

Loudly, he clears his throat. “You mean how wonderful Clean Ocean is – right, Aunt Jeanette?”

Jeanette shrugs, looking as though she couldn’t care either way. Stifling a laugh, you rather enjoy the rare sight of Jungkook flustered.

More than that though, you’re forced to rethink the situation. Jungkook didn’t bring a date tonight. Or – he brought a date but not a romantic one. Instead, he brought the single family member he still has a good relationship with and wanted you to meet her.

All night, you’ve imagined the two of you stuck in a loop, playing the same game over and over but now, you see you were wrong. This is different. Jungkook has been trying to tell you something all week and the moment you realize this, you make your decision.

“Actually,” you say abruptly. “Do you mind if I steal your nephew, Jeanette? There are a few donors I’d like him to meet.”

“Of course!” She waves you both away. “I was planning to head out soon, anyways. Always leave them wanting more, and all that. I’ll see you next weekend, Kookie.”

“Are you sure?” Leaning down, Jungkook kisses her cheek. “I can have my driver take you home.”

“Nonsense,” she says. “I have my own driver, darling. He’d be bored stiff without me. Have fun!” she calls, turning around to melt into the crowd.

Jungkook watches her leave, a faint look of amusement on his face.

“Sorry,” he says, turning towards you. “I didn’t ask her to –”

“Can we talk?” you blurt out.

Jungkook stops and blinks. “I – okay, sure. About what?”

“In private,” you say, shaking your head as you turn.

In the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook follow. Your heart is thudding so loudly, you’re certain he must hear it. You’re sure everyone must hear it, even over the music but somehow, no one notices. Every now and again, you look back to ensure Jungkook is following.

He is.

Your original intent was to bring Jungkook to the entrance, but when you find the space occupied, you continue. Entering the next hall, you search for some privacy. Both footsteps echo on marble, the noise thinning around you as you leave the party.

Around the next bend, the hall empties into an aquarium with a domed ceiling.

“Uh, Y/N?”

Turning, you find Jungkook beside a sign that reads closed. One hand in his pocket, he looks at you and smiles, and you nearly melt.

“Yes?” you whisper, not daring to move.

He glances at the sign. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.”

“We rented this entire place,” you say, turning around. “That includes this room. Olya put up those signs to discourage guests from roaming.”

“Oh. Okay, then.”

Leaving Jungkook at the entrance, you wander in. The dome above you is fully glass, surrounding you on all sides with water from the aquarium. Colorful fish dart past, twisting and turning before they disappear into coral. Feeling slightly silly for having brought Jungkook here, you force yourself to stop.

His footsteps continue until Jungkook stops alongside you. The shape of him is clear in your peripheral and it takes everything in you not to turn your head.

“They don’t bite,” you say, staring at the tank.

“I know.” Jungkook’s voice is rough. “They’re not the reason I’m nervous right now.”

Uncertain, you turn and meet his gaze. The moment you do, all the words you had planned somehow disappear.

Jungkook exhales. “I’m scared,” he admits, quiet. “Scared you brought me here to reject me. Scared you saw right through me out there and are trying to let me down easy where no one can see us.”

Hearing this, it’s all you can do to remain upright. Jungkook being afraid you might reject him means there’s something to reject.

“I’m scared I’m being an idiot,” he continues, stepping closer. “Scared I’m reading into signs that aren’t there, imagining you feel the same way about me when you obviously don’t.”

Jungkook stops mere inches away and you realize he’s waiting for a response. All you can think though, is what if you’re wrong.

“And…?” you ask him. “What is it you feel for me?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Jungkook looks at you, tortured. “It feels… like I can breathe. Like I’ve been trapped my whole life but with you, I can finally breathe. I’m not creative, but you make me want to be. To write songs – poetry, just to hear you laugh. You make me ramble,” he adds, his voice catching. “I’m scared of confessing this but the thought of losing you again scares me even more. I want everyone to know how I feel – especially you, Y/N.”

You stare back at him, speeches and wonder if there comes a point when joy is too much. When happiness is akin to pain since you know at one point, this feeling must end.

Stepping closer, Jungkook’s hands skim your elbows. “Please,” he adds, searching. “Please, Y/N. Say something and put me out of my misery.”

It’s the way he says please that breaks the dam inside you.

“You’re not imagining things,” you whisper, the words rushing out. “Everything you said… I feel it, too, Jungkook. I’ve been falling for you ever since the night we watched Ted Lasso.”

Incredulousness enters his gaze. “That long, huh?”

Scoffing, you move to swat his arm, but Jungkook catches your hand and tugs you closer. Smiling down at you, he wraps both arms around your waist.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “I’ve been falling for you since Chez Moi, Chez Toi. Although I didn’t realize it until later.”

“Our first date?” you ask him, amazed.

Jungkook nods. “I don’t have much experience with all this. It took me a while to understand what I was feeling.”

“Which was when?”

“When you stayed at my place.” His face softens. “I saw you in my t-shirt and just… knew something about this was different. I barely thought twice before sending my date home. Even then, I didn’t want to admit it. I don’t think I really understood until I woke up in your bed.”

“You were better than me,” you admit. “I didn’t realize until Aleve.”

Visible frustration crosses his features. “That night.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I was such an ass– I’m so sorry about it, Y/N. It’s just… when I saw you with him… it brought back all these memories, and I didn’t handle it very well.”

You stare at him a long moment, then exhale. “It’s okay. I understand. I – well, I spoke with Yoongi.”

Rather than seem surprised by this reveal, Jungkook merely nods. “I know,” he says softly.

“You… know?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Since when?” you demand.

His upper lip quirks. “Since Thursday. After seeing you, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, so I went to complain about it to Yoongi – and barely got your name out before he exploded.” Jungkook lets out a laugh. “He called me an idiot and said I should confess before I lost you completely. The truth came out after that,” he adds, a bit dry.

“I’m… so sorry,” you blurt, shaking your head. “I didn’t tell him to say that. I didn’t mean to go behind your back the way I did, it’s just –”

“You weren’t getting any answers from me,” Jungkook finishes.

Helpless, you nod.

“I get it, Y/N,” he says, his grip tightening. “I’m not mad, I promise. If anything, I’m glad you went to Yoongi because it gave me hope. It made me think…” Jungkook hesitates. “That maybe you cared for me, too.”

“God,” you mutter. “We’ve been such idiots.”

He sadly smiles. “Me, more than you.”

“We can call it a tie.”

Laughing, Jungkook moves closer, and everything else seems to fade. His presence overwhelms you in a way that makes your mind go quiet. Unthinking, your gaze drops to his mouth. Suddenly, you’re very aware of each part of your body pressed to his.

“We…” Jungkook licks his lips. “We should probably head back.”

Despite this, his voice roughens, and you suppress a shiver. Tentatively, you lift one hand to splay across his chest. Jungkook’s gaze dips to your palm on his fabric.

“Probably,” you agree.

“Except…” Subtle, Jungkook lowers his head. “We’ve waited a long time to get our shit together.”

“That’s also true.”

“Mm.” He stops. “There’s just one problem.”

“Problem?” you say, dazed by his proximity.

“Yeah.” Tilting his head, his lips nearly brush yours. “If I start kissing you, I won’t be able to stop.”

“And that’s a bad thing, because…?”

“We’re currently in public.”

“In public.”

“At an event that you’re hosting.”

“Hosting,” you repeat, reduced to a parrot.

Jungkook chuckles. “People will notice,” he murmurs, although his hand continues to caress your waist, “if you go missing. And I don’t want to be rushed. I plan to take my time with you tonight.”

His last word is a growl, said lowly in your ear and immediately, your breath catches. Hand fisting in his jacket, you attempt to move even closer, but Jungkook stays maddeningly separate.

Huffing, you look up. “I didn’t think you were the type to back down from a challenge, Jeon.”

“Are you giving me one, princess?”

Boldly, you close the distance between you. Jungkook’s reaction is instantaneous, his entire body stiffening but before you can move, his hand finds your chin.

“Careful,” he warns, tilting your face to his.

“Come on, Jeon.” Sweetly, you smile. “Be stronger.”

“Impossible,” he mutters. “Not with you around.”

Before you can react to this, his lips are on yours. Jungkook’s hand roughly slides from your jaw to your neck, pulling you closer as you melt against him. Heart hammering, your fingers curl tightly into the lapels of his jacket. Each place you touch him feels aflame and at the same time, you’re drowning, sinking into his presence.

When you finally pull back, Jungkook bites down on your lip. Gasping, you arch and he claims your mouth again. He swallows your whimper, walking the two of you backwards until your spine touches glass.

Keeping you upright, his muscular thigh wedges between yours. Trying to get closer, you knock your head against the glass – and Jungkook goes utterly still.

 “Y/N,” he groans, ripping himself away. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Still struggling to catch your breath, you stare back at him. Jungkook hasn’t stepped back, a fact which hasn’t escaped your notice. When you arch against him, Jungkook pushes his hips against yours.

“Careful,” he murmurs, pressing you to the tank. “Unless you want to be fucked right here and right now. I wouldn’t overestimate my self-control.”

Lips parted, you stare and Jungkook can’t help but grin. It’s hard not to melt because his smile is your favorite – and only now are you realizing that’s because it’s solely for you.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Nothing.” Slowly, you shake your head. “I’m just… happy.”

If you thought you loved Jungkook’s smile before, you were wrong. Eyes crinkled, his smile widens, and now, you fear for your life. For the life of everyone at this party because dear lord, Jungkook is perfect.

“I can’t imagine why,” he says. “I’m the lucky one.”

“Agree to disagree.”

His grip on you tightens and you expect him to kiss you again, but he doesn’t. Instead, Jungkook merely stands there, and you wonder if this is what people mean when they speak about happiness. When they mention perfect moments, understanding another without words – this must be what they speak of.

Eventually, you glance past him. “We should probably return.”

“Probably,” he agrees, although he still doesn’t move. “It’s not fair, though. Those people have had your attention all night.”

“And you’ll have the rest of it,” you tease him. “Right after I figure out a way to leave without telling the whole party, ‘Hey, my boyfriend is about to fuck me silly.’”

Jungkook releases you and you start to walk past, only to realize he still hasn’t moved. Puzzled, you turn.

“Jungkook?” you ask. “Did you… not want to do that tonight?”

“That’s not it.” Dazed, he turns his head. “It’s just … you called me your boyfriend.”

Your entire world stops.

“Oh.

Frantic, you backpedal and search for a way out. Obviously, that was too much, too soon – you aren’t sure why you said it, other than the fact that it’s true. You want Jungkook as more than just a fuck buddy, more than just a friend.

For the first time in a very long time, you want to say boyfriend, but Jungkook is new to all this, and you don’t want to scare him away.

“I didn’t mean that,” you hasten, stepping forward. “I was just talking out loud, and I didn’t –”

“No,” Jungkook interrupts. “Don’t take it back. I want that. I really want that. It’s just… it was nice to hear you say it.” An embarrassed smile spreads over his face. “Say it again?”

All the tension drains from your limbs. “Say what?” you tease. “Say you’re my boyfriend?”

Jungkook’s gaze darkens. “I thought you didn’t want me to fuck you right here and right now?”

Heat pools in your center and it’s all you can do not to crush his mouth to yours. An inkling of self-preservation prevents you from doing so, because Jungkook is right. People would notice if you suddenly disappeared.

Still, it doesn’t keep you from lifting to your toes. Lips hovering at his ear, you feel Jungkook’s entire body go taut when you whisper, “Your aunt will want to say goodbye.”

Roughly, he exhales, and you laugh when you pull back.

“Please,” Jungkook groans. His expression is half-amusement, half-pain. “Let’s not talk about my aunt right now.”

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s go and say goodbye.”

“Just – give me a moment.”

Patient, you wait while Jungkook screws his eyes shut. Several seconds pass until finally, he opens them and some of the heat has dissipated.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he declares.

Before you can respond, Jungkook takes your hand in his and pulls you away. You try and savor each, since you’ll soon need to part, but time seems to blur, buoyed by your happiness. All too soon, you’ve reached the entrance and Jungkook is turning to face you.

Continuing to hold your hand, he glances over your shoulder. In the aquarium, someone laughs, and you’re reminded again why you can’t leave just yet.

Jungkook exhales, somewhat mournful. “We timed this terribly.”

“Okay,” you announce. “Here’s the deal.”

Returning to you, his lips twitch. “Deal?”

“Yep.” You force yourself to sound stern. “I’ll go in now. Give me a five-minute head start, and then follow. I’ll talk to a few donors, chat with a few sponsors and then –”

“We meet back here for aquarium sex?”

“Stop that,” you laugh, swatting his arm. “No. And then, we meet out front at eleven. Okay?”

Jungkook adopts a look of mock-anguish. “Why so late?”

You can’t help but smile. “Wish it were sooner?”

“Don’t tease me,” he says, voice dropping. “I thought I was clear about my plans for you for tonight.”

“Plans?”

Jungkook takes a step closer. “Nice try,” he murmurs, lowering his head. “You’ll find out later tonight. Now, go – the sooner you leave, the sooner you come back.”

Reluctant, you turn. “I’ll be back soon,” you promise. “Five-minute head start. Don’t forget.”

Before you can leave, Jungkook’s hand catches your wrist, and he pulls you backwards. Kissing you deeply, he molds your body to his and by the time he lifts his head, you’re rendered speechless.

His gaze bores into yours. “Eleven. No later.”

Unable to think of a response, you nod. It takes every ounce of your self-possession to turn and walk away. When you finally enter the main room, you take a deep breath to focus.

Several new guests have arrived, and you’re only on your second when you realize your mistake. Now that you have Jungkook waiting, you’re finding it difficult to string sentences together. Nearly mixing up the names of two donors, you’re saved from embarrassment by Hoseok’s sudden appearance.

Grasping your wrist, he pulls you closer. “We need to talk,” Hoseok hisses, smiling balefully at the others. “Apologies, everyone, but I need to steal Y/N for a minute.”

Ignoring the ensuing chorus of no problem! and of course, Hoseok leads you away until you’re both concealed behind a potted plant. Turning, he drags a hand down his face, and you look on in alarm. Originally, you thought this might be about Jungkook, but no longer.

“Hoseok, what is it?” you demand.

Resigned, he meets your gaze. “Your parents are here.”

Hoseok might as well have said elephants have arrived. Neither sentence would make sense in the context of Clean Ocean.

“My… what?”

“Your parents,” Hoseok repeats. “They’re here. Olya wasn’t near the front, and the bouncer wasn’t sure what to do, so he let them in.”

“But…” You stare at him, flummoxed. “That makes no sense. Why are they here?”

“I don’t know. To offer congratulations?”

The laugh you give sounds like a wheeze. “These are my parents, we’re talking about.”

“Right, well.” He looks at you, helpless. “Only way to find out is to ask them, I guess.”

Staring at Hoseok, you wait for the rising wave of panic which always accompanies the presence of your family and feel – nothing.

For the first time, you’re confident that whatever mischief your parents have in mind won’t affect you. Clean Ocean is doing well. You and Jason are solid. You have great friends, a good life and – a boyfriend, waiting for you outside at eleven.

Insides warming, you can’t help but smile – something that swiftly disappears when you look at Hoseok. Based on his expression, he seems to be worried you’re having a nervous breakdown.

“Alright,” you say, straightening. “Where are they?”

“Patio. Last I saw, anyways. Want me to come with?”

“No thanks,” you exhale. “They’re my parents. I can handle them.”

Hoseok examines you carefully, then nods and steps aside. He’s long learned not to mess with your familial ties after attending several parties where your parents ignored him. Striding through the main room, you force your expression to neutrality and run through potential options.

Maybe your parents are here because of an important donor. Maybe they came to look good in the papers. Or maybe (most likely) it’s unknown option three which will leave you reeling and nauseous in a way only they can. Stepping onto the patio, you scan for the signs of impending doom.

A breeze rolls in from the ocean, prickling the hair on the back of your neck. Not seeing them, you walk forward – and Jason steps in your path.

“Y/N,” he blurts out. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Instantly, your eyes narrow and you grab his arm. “Why didn’t you warn me they were coming?” you hiss, leaning in.

“I didn’t know!” Jason protests. “Mom texted they were here when I stepped from my car. I’ve been searching all over for you but couldn’t find you. Hoseok didn’t know where you were, either,” he adds, giving you a questioning glance.

Careful to keep your expression blank, you fall into step alongside him. “Busy night. I’ve been running around.”

“Right. Sure.”

The look Jason gives you makes you sweat a little but before he can say anything, the sound of your mother cuts above the crowd.

“Y/N! Darling,” she cries, appearing from nowhere.

Grimacing, you lean in for the double-kiss, disentangling yourself before she can follow up with a hug. This is when your mother loves to whisper her disapproving comments in your ear. Smile in place, you step from her grasp and turn towards your father.

“Mom and dad,” you say brightly. “I didn’t realize you were coming. Did something change in your plans?”

Stepping backwards, your mother sips her champagne. “Nothing changed, Y/N. I’m positive I told Miranda to reply to your RSVP. And even if she forgot – which would be typical – is it so surprising we’d like to support our only daughter?”

Rather than offer an uncharitable response, you nod.

“It was nice of you to come,” Jason agrees. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

Your mother glances at the patio. “That DJ is too loud. He’s going to burst someone’s eardrum, and I’m sure their insurance won’t cover third parties. Did you take out an umbrella policy?” she asks, not waiting for an answer before she continues. “Other than that, the night has been tolerable. There’s an almost respectable crowd here. I know most of the guest list.”

Knowing your mother, she meant this as a compliment. Still, you find yourself wishing you’d at least had the foresight to grab another drink.

“And what about you, dad?” Jason asks, sounding strained. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

Your father blinks, as though startled by being addressed directly.

“Yes – oh, yes,” he says with a nod. “Very nice.”

A pause follows, so Jason continues.

“It is,” he says proudly. “Y/N worked so hard to pull this together. I mean, when she said Infinity Motors pulled out, even I was panicking. The fact that this launch party is happening is nothing short of a miracle.”

Hearing this, your mother looks at you sharply. “What did your brother say? Liam is no longer a donor of Clean Ocean?”

Wincing, Jason realizes his mistake but it’s too late. Seeing no easy way out, you adopt your most neutral expression.

“Yes,” you exhale, turning to face your mother. “Infinity Motors is no longer a donor for Clean Ocean.”

Finally, this gets through to your father. “What happened?” he demands. “Was it a matter of money? Was the offer too small? I’m playing golf with Liam on Sunday – I could talk to him then. We could work something out; this doesn’t have to be the end.”

“There’s no need for that, dad,” you hasten.

“Don’t be so proud,” your mother cuts in. “Listen to your father. He’s been doing this for much longer than you have, Y/N. Do the other donors know?” she asks, changing topics. “It really isn’t right to throw a launch party when the program is cancelled.”

“It’s not cancelled,” you say through clenched teeth.

“There’s no need for that tone, Y/N. I’m just thinking of you, here. I assume this means you’ve broken up with Liam?”

“We were never dating, mom.”

“Oh, right. Is that really what you want to go with?”

“Yes, it is,” you say. “And why does it matter, anyways? One minute, you’re pushing me to date Jungkook and now, you’re all about Liam.”

“I’m willing to admit when I’m wrong,” your mother says with a sniff. “You and Liam Jessen make more sense as a couple. And you were right about that Jeon boy,” she adds, a bit darker.

Hearing this, you pause, unsure how to respond. Your mother has never shied away from supporting the Jeons before. Sensing your hesitation, Jason jumps in.

“What do you mean?” he says, curious.

“W-ell.” Like the cat with the canary, your mother swirls her champagne. “I was speaking to Louise Trapp the other day and she said that apparently, Jungkook is running his father’s company into the ground.”

“Oh?” you ask, the word faint.

When Jason looks at you with confusion, you pretend not to notice.

“It’s true.” Your mother shakes her head. “He’s investing all their profits into renewable energy. Forgoing any sort of shareholder dividend! He fired all the old executives, the ones who’d devoted their lives to the company. Terrible – just terrible,” she sighs. “That company will go under soon, mark my words.”

For a moment, you stand speechless. Hearing your mother list all Jungkook’s accomplishments as faults is a level of surrealness Dalí wouldn’t expect.

“Hm.” Jason seems thoughtful. “Those don’t sound like bad ideas.”

Ignoring this, your mother shakes her head. “Such a pity, too. That boy had such potential. All the opportunity in the world, and this is what he chose.”

Hearing her clear disdain helps you regain your voice. “And what, exactly, did he choose?” you ask, your words full of soft venom.

Both mother and father blink at your tone.

“Well, he…”

Your mother falters.

“Now, Y/N,” your father says, cutting in. “You know your mother meant nothing by the comment.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you say sweetly. “So, what did you mean?”

Your mother’s gaze narrows, never one to back down from a fight. “I only meant,” she says stiffly, “that he’s turned a lot of former friends into enemies. And that it’s a pity to see his father’s tremendous work be undone.”

“Jungkook’s father,” you snap, barely aware of what you’re saying, “isn’t worthy of being mentioned in the same sentence as Jungkook.”

Your mother stares at you, aghast and in the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook appear.

He stands at the edge of the patio, searching for something – or someone, you realize, when your gazes meet. Briefly, he smiles before stepping from the dais to melt into the crowd. Suddenly, it seems foolish to have separated from him at all.

“Speaking of Jungkook,” you say, turning back. “I’ve been meaning to thank you, mom.”

Both your parents seem perplexed.

“Thank me for what?” your mother asks tightly.

Rather than answer, you turn around and wave. Your timing proves to be correct, as Jungkook appears as though called from the crowd. When he sees you waving, he stops and glances behind him. Realizing no one is there, Jungkook pivots, and you wave again. Puzzled, he tilts his head, and you nod.

Once you’re certain he’s coming, you return to your family.

“For encouraging me to go out on dates,” you say, answering your mother’s question. “You were right. I was going out with all the wrong men. I needed someone who can hold their own, and now I’ve found that – thanks to you.”

Your mother continues to look bewildered, but Jason breaks into laughter when Jungkook approaches. Your brother quickly disguises this as a cough, taking a large gulp of his whiskey. 

Jungkook appears by your side, holding a glass of red wine and looking fully at ease. Stepping closer, you slip your arm into the crook of his elbow and Jungkook glances at you, surprised. This only lasts a moment before he gives in.

“Darling,” Jungkook says, placing his other hand on your lower back. “Are you alright? Do you need a drink?”

“No, no – darling,” you add, just to watch his lips twitch. “I only wanted you to meet my parents. As my boyfriend.”

Something heated flares in his gaze, followed by understanding. Turning towards your family, Jungkook’s expression shifts to one you’ve only seen a few times before. A thrill runs down your spine at the detached look of Jeon Energy’s CEO.

“No fucking way,” Jason breathes.

Your mother instantly straightens. “Jason,” she hisses. “Language!”

“Sorry, mom.” He shakes his head. “So, does this mean you two are actually…”

“Dating?” you supply, your smile widening. “Yes. That’s what I wanted to thank you for, mom. For bringing us together.”

Placing his hand over yours on his elbow, Jungkook inclines his head. Expression unchanging, he keeps you firm by his side.

“I should be thanking you as well, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he adds, solemn. “If it weren’t for you, I never would have found someone as wonderful as your daughter.”

Your mother’s mouth opens, then shuts, clearly torn. On one hand, it’s rude to directly contradict an acquaintance. On the other hand, she doesn’t agree with Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve heard your mother ever use wonderful and daughter in the same sentence.

Luckily, your father steps in. “Well, isn’t this fantastic,” he booms. “How long has it been since I’ve seen your father, Jungkook? I’ll have to set up golf with him soon.”

The change is barely perceptible, but Jungkook’s smile dims. Squeezing his arm with your hand, you force him to look down and he softens.

“We were just talking about you,” you say, looking upward. “My mother was giving her thoughts about your performance as CEO, and I thought it’d be good for you to hear them in person.”

Jason nearly spits his whiskey back into his glass. Your mother is similarly stricken, although she composes herself quickly. Jungkook, on the other hand, seems mildly amused.

“Was she now?” he asks, turning to face her. “I must say, the reviews so far have been dismal. Most people seem to think I’m running the company into the ground.”

Your mother looks a bit sallow. Faced with two bad options – lying or saying something rude to Jungkook’s face – she chooses her next words carefully.

“Yes, well.” She nods. “It takes great… fortitude to make such large-scale changes.”

Jungkook lifts a brow. “Ah, yes. True. But enough about me,” he adds, glancing your way. “Shouldn’t you make the rounds? I’d hate to keep you from your guests.” His expression hardens slightly when he returns to your parents. “It was lovely to see you,” Jungkook adds in a tone which clearly says it was not. “We should do this again.”

Hearing his insult disguised by kind words, your mother stiffens. Your father doesn’t seem to notice and, with a nod, he scans the place for a bar.

Bending, Jungkook brushes his lips against your cheek. “Do you want me to stay?’ he murmurs. “I don’t like leaving you alone with them.”

If you felt any uncertainty before, it immediately vanishes.

“I’ll be fine,” you whisper back. “I’ll see you at eleven.”

Nodding, Jungkook pulls away to face your parents again. “Have a goodnight,” he says before leaving.

You watch him enter the crowd, your side feeling suddenly empty. Before you can offer up any type of explanation, Jason starts to chuckle.

“Wow,” he says. “Jeon Jungkook, Y/N.”

“What about it?” you ask, turning back.

“Nothing.” His grin widens. “I thought that you hated him.”

“Yeah, well.” Somewhat sheepish, you shrug. “Turns out, I don’t.”

Jason continues to smile, and you can’t help but return it – until your mother regains her voice.

“Y/N,” she huffs. “You could have warned us before calling him over like that.”

“I thought you’d be pleased,” you say blithely. “You were the one who introduced us.”

“You – we.” Coming to a stop, she takes a deep breath. “While admittedly, that Jeon boy comes from a good family, he’s hardly the type of man we’d encourage you to date.”

“Oh?” you ask, a dangerous note to your words.

Not for the first time, you understand your mother will find fault in whatever you do. Here’s a man she set you up with and now, because you chose him, she’s taking back her approval.

Oddly enough, the fact barely stings. Not long ago, it might have. Glancing around, you spot Jungkook by the bar and realize he’s watching. He pretends not to, but every now and again, he glances your way, and his expression tightens.

You smile reassuringly. Returning to your parents, you look them each in the eye.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m the one dating him and you’re not,” you say simply. “Thank you for coming. I hope you enjoy the event.”

With that, you turn around and leave. Behind you, Jason jumps in to save the conversation, and you feel a surge of gratitude. While you may not always agree, you can’t deny your brother has your back.

Now, keeping your distance from Jungkook until the end of the night seems pointless. Cutting through the crowd, you make your way to his side. Jungkook watches you navigate and, once you arrive, hands you a glass of champagne. Taking it, your heart flutters, since Jungkook has selected a brand you ordered before.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hi.”

Smiling back at him, you take a sip from the glass.

“No. Way.”

A third voice makes you start. Turning, you find Seokjin staring between you, open-mouthed. Before you can explain, Jungkook turns casually to face him.

“So,” he remarks. “I hear you like Yoongi.”

Gaze jerking to him, Seokjin shuts his mouth. Stifling a laugh, you lean into Jungkook, and he places a hand on your lower back.

Seeing this, Seokjin groans. “Are you two together now? Because if so, I’ll need at least a five-minute warning before you enter a room. New couples are the worst.”

“Yes, we’re together,” you say, smiling up at Jungkook.

He smiles down at you, and in the background, you hear Seokjin offer congratulations before disappearing. Jungkook’s fingers trail lower, realizing how much of your skin is exposed.

“This dress,” Jungkook murmurs, lowering his lips to your ear, “is indecent.”

“Are you trying to tell me what to wear, Mr. Jeon?” you ask in mock-outrage.

Withdrawing his hand, Jungkook turns you to face him. “I wouldn’t dare. Allow me to rephrase – seeing you in that dress is making me want to do indecent things.”

Heart hammering against your ribcage, you stare upward. Before you can respond though, your phone vibrates in your clutch. You determine to ignore it, but then a second vibration occurs – followed fast by another.

Jungkook’s lips tighten. “You should probably get that.”

As much as you hate to admit it, Jungkook is right. Pulling away, you reluctantly unzip your clutch. Spotting Hoseok’s name on the screen, you scowl and swipe.

Hoseok: you saw Jungkook?? Was that before or after we talked? [9:01 PM]

Hoseok: hang on – Seokjin says you’re with him now? [9:29 PM]

Hoseok: and you didn’t tell me?! [9:30 PM]

Hoseok: Y/N! [9:30 PM]

Reading over your shoulder, Jungkook chuckles. Handing him your glass of champagne, you respond.

Y/N: yes, I saw him and yes, we’re together. Additional questions will be answered at a later time [9:32 PM]

Belatedly, you realize this is your group chat when you see Seokjin’s ellipses.

Seokjin: they’re being nauseating out on the patio [9:33 PM]

Seokjin: steer clear [9:33 PM]

Y/N: we are not being nauseating [9:34 PM]

“We kind of are,” Jungkook murmurs. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lowers his chin to your shoulder. “Which reminds me – you should probably be in there, talking to people.”

You huff, knowing he’s right and your phone dings again.

Hoseok: Y/N, go home [9:36 PM]

Surprised, you stare at the screen. Hoseok continues typing, and another message follows.

Hoseok: Olya agrees – go home. You’ve been here for hours and said hello to everyone important. We can handle the rest. [9:37 PM]

Before you can counter, Jungkook’s hand closes around your phone and tugs it from your grasp.

“Thank god,” he sighs, kissing the nape of your neck. “Because it’s taking my last shred of willpower to keep from ripping this dress right off you.”

His free hand splays across your middle, tugging you backwards as you sharply inhale.

“Are you ready to leave?” he asks, low in your ear.

“Yes,” you blurt, making your decision. “Let’s go. Right now.”

Jungkook chuckles, following close behind when you take his hand. Not caring who sees, you drag him through the crowd and towards the main entrance.

Once you’re outside, you reach for your phone and Jungkook sets this in your palm. Coming to a stop alongside you, he slips both hands in his pockets.

“Where do you want to go?” He tilts his head. “Your place or mine?”

A million (not PG) possibilities run through your mind, rendering you speechless. Judging by his expression, Jungkook seems to be thinking the same.

“Your place,” you say, only to pause. “But… Dante is at my neighbor’s.”

“We can go to your place,” Jungkook offers. “Or we can pick up Dante and head to mine. I don’t care either way.”

You stare at him, speechless, too stunned by the absolute perfection standing before you.

Mistaking your silence for disapproval, Jungkook starts to backtrack. “Or not,” he says. “You could ask your neighbor to watch Dante? Or we just head to your place. I really don’t care, Y/N, I just want –”

“No – no,” you blurt. “It’s not that. None of what you just said is bad. It’s just – you’re wonderful,” you say, somewhat breathless. “Let’s get Dante and go to your place. If you don’t mind.”

Jungkook breaks into a smile. “I really don’t,” he says, turning around as headlights swing into the drive. “I hope you don’t care I had my driver waiting.”

“I don’t,” you respond, your giddiness only growing when Jungkook takes your hand.

Opening the door, he waits for you to sit before crossing to the other side. You’re nearly buckled in when he joins, leaning over the console to give his driver directions. When the car starts to move, Jungkook settles backwards – casually pushing the button to raise the partition.

Ensconced in darkness, every inch of your body goes taut.

Shifting on leather, you stare straight ahead and do your best to ignore the mounting tension between you. You have an entire car ride before you reach his place. This is easier said than done though, because the longer you sit, the more you remember the first night you met.

“So.”

Jungkook’s voice is low, seductive, and unthinking, you turn. You immediately regret this because now, you’re aware of how close Jungkook is. His right hand splays across the seat between you, taking up space in a way that’s distracting.

“So,” you exhale.

Your voice is breathy, even to your ears and his upper lip curls. Leaning forward, Jungkook gently drags his thumb along the curve of your jaw. Unbidden, you shiver.

“Did I tell you how gorgeous you look?” he murmur, not looking away.

“If I didn’t know better,” you say, “I’d think you were trying to get me naked.”

Jungkook lifts a brow. “Oh, I am. Not here, though. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Mistake?”

“Mm.” His voice drops. “You don’t deserve to be undressed in the backseat of a car. You deserve to be spread out like a feast – worshiped and eaten until I’m fully sated.”

You feel your heart quicken. “And… if I want the first option?”

“Well, then.” His hand slowly slides to the back of your neck. “We’ll just have to compromise.”

Bending, his teeth scrape your jaw as you tip your head back. Other hand finding your waist, Jungkook pulls you closer as you squeeze your eyes shut. Tilting your head, Jungkook lightly tugs the lobe of your ear between his teeth.

A whimper escapes you, thighs clenched tightly together.

“Slow,” Jungkook whispers. “We have all night.”

“But I want you now.”

His grip on you tightens. “Careful,” he warns. “Each time you’re a brat, your orgasm gets delayed.”

Chest rising and falling, you open your eyes. Jungkook stares back at you, his gaze lidded as a sudden wave of boldness overtakes you.

“So, what can I do, your highness?” you ask.

Absent, his thumb strokes the side of your throat. You aren’t sure Jungkook is even aware that he’s doing it, so focused is he on the shape of your mouth.

“I don’t think we have enough time for roleplay tonight, princess,” he muses. “What you can do is let me worship your body the way that I want.”

“The way that you want?”

His gaze flicks to yours. “What I want is for you to be so wholly undone, you forget your own name.”

Oh.

Sensing approval, Jungkook shifts even closer. His other hand spans your ribcage and when he brushes the underside of your breasts, you suck in a breath.

“Jungkook,” you groan.

Lightly, Jungkook swipes his thumb over your nipple. Due to the low back, you aren’t able to wear a bra with this dress. It means you feel every touch, each caress as Jungkook plays with your body.

Shifting even closer, he cups your breast with one hand. “Fuck,” Jungkook mutters. “I’ve missed being able to touch you like this.”

His thumb circles your nipple, other hand joining to find your other breast. You long to touch him back but are afraid if you start, you won’t be able to stop.

Pressing your legs tightly together, you rock against your seat in desperate search of friction. Hand rising to the back of your head, Jungkook crushes your mouth to his. Unable to take it, your arms twine around his neck to pull him even closer. His hand falls to the seat, covering your body with his as he–

The car beneath you slows.

Freezing above you, it takes several moments for Jungkook to speak. In the corner of your eye, you realize you’ve reached your apartment and slowly sit back.

“Fuck,” you exhale.

Shutting his eyes, Jungkook still doesn’t move. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Fuck.”

Eventually, he shifts to unbuckle his seatbelt. Hiding a smile at his clear distraction, you push open your door and step onto the curb. You’re halfway to the door when his arms wrap around you from behind.

“Come on,” he sighs, pulling you backwards. “Let’s go and find Dante before I let you convince me to fuck you in my car.”

“Jungkook!” you gasp, glancing around to ensure no one heard.

The street is thankfully empty and, stifling laughter, you pull him inside. The five stories to your apartment are less painful than usual, possibly because Jungkook refuses to let go of your waist. It makes for rather awkward travel, but you can’t bring yourself to complain as you reach your front door.

“Jungkook,” you laugh, fumbling in your clutch for the key. “I need Dante’s things.”

“Mm.”

“Which means I need my hands,” you point out.

Pouting, Jungkook drops his arms and reluctantly steps away. Unable to deal with his face, you turn around on tiptoe and kiss him. Accepting your touch as currency, Jungkook holds open the door while you step inside.

Dropping your clutch on the counter, you head straight for your bedroom. The faster you pack, the faster you reach Jungkook’s apartment, and the rest of your night can begin.

“Do you need any help?” Jungkook yells.

“No!” you call back, grabbing a duffel bag.

Tossing clothes in, you barely pay attention to what you grab. Scanning your bathroom, you throw in some face products and zip up the case. When you return to the kitchen, you come to a stop.

Jungkook has assembled a random assortment on your counter. Dog food, treats, bathroom bags, a few leashes – basically, everything you might need for Dante. Lifting a brow, you walk closer.

“Is this for Dante?” you ask, picking up a chew toy.

Jungkook nods, a bit sheepish. “I wanted to help, so I pulled some stuff together.”

Setting your bag on the floor, you reach up and pull his face down to yours. Your kiss is soft, sweet and Jungkook looks puzzled when you pull away.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “That was really cute.” You glance sideways. “He only needs like, a quarter of this but it was cute.”

Laughing, you help Jungkook pack what Dante actually needs in a second bag and finally, you’re ready to go. Switching off your lights, you head towards the door – only to walk straight into Jungkook’s chest.

Surprised, you look up. “What?”

He glances at your duffel bag. “What’s in there?”

Pulling the strap tighter across your chest, you shrug. “Things,” you say. “Clothes for tomorrow, face stuff, pajamas –”

“Pajamas?” Jungkook nearly smiles.

Determined, you lift your chin. “Yes, pajamas.”

Taking a step closer, Jungkook lets his arms fall. You take an unconscious step backwards, your hips hitting the counter as, slowly, he places one hand on either side of you.

He tilts his head. “Do you really think you’ll be needing clothing tonight?”

Before you can utter so much as a syllable, Jungkook turns around to pull open your door.

“Let’s go,” he announces.

Adopting a scowl, you stalk past. Laughing quietly to himself, Jungkook shuts the door as you cross the hall. You knock on Jimin’s door, and several barks follow (most of them Dante’s).

Stopping beside you, Jungkook holds out a hand. It takes you a moment to realize he’s asking for the duffel bag. Ignoring him, you knock a second time and Jungkook uses your momentary distraction to relieve you of the bag.

You’re just turning sideways to scold him when the door opens. Seeing the two of you, Jimin’s jaw drops as he freezes.

“Jimin, hi!” you blurt as a furry bolt of lightning enters the hall.

Dante runs straight for Jungkook, and you watch – utterly betrayed – while Dante rolls onto his back. Staring up at Jungkook with heart-eyes, Dante wags his tail. Obeying the obvious demand, Jungkook bends to give Dante belly rubs.

Regaining himself, Jimin leans against his door. “Wow, Y/N,” he says with a laugh. “Seems like you’ve been replaced.”

Glancing upward, Jungkook squints. “Hey, Jimin. Nice to meet you again.”

“Nice to see you.” Grin widening, Jimin glances your way. Over Jungkook’s head, he mouths, so, is this a thing? before he turns back. “Will we be seeing the two of you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Jungkook continues to rub Dante’s belly. “What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m having people over to play video games,” Jimin says. “My girlfriend will be there, along with Hoseok and Olya. You’re more than welcome to come.”

“Thanks for the offer.” Jungkook looks up. “If Y/N wants to, I’m in.”

“We’ll see,” you say. “It all depends on what we’re doing.”

Brow lifted, Jungkook slowly stands from the floor. Heat floods his gaze, understanding exactly what you mean. If you’re able to withdraw yourself from Jungkook’s bed before next week, you’d be surprised.

Glancing between you, Jimin pauses, then nods. “Cool.” Subtle, he raps on his door frame. “I’m heading back inside before you do each other in the hall, but text me if you’re coming, Y/N. Night!”

Stepping inside, Jimin shuts his door. Jungkook stares after him, startled before chuckling. Bending, he scoops both bags from the ground.

“That guy just says whatever’s on his mind, huh?” he muses, clipping on Dante’s leash. Dante actually lets Jungkook do this, which is in itself a rarity.

Trying not to let on how amazing this is, you shrug. “Jimin is blunt, but he’s also super nice. If you did want to go tomorrow, we can.”

“We’ll see.” Jungkook straightens. “Like you said, we may be… otherwise occupied.”

He gives an exaggerated wink and it’s a physical battle not to kiss him right now. Turning away, you head down the hall. You absolutely refuse to jump Jungkook in the hallway.

Outside, you take Dante to the bathroom while Jungkook sets your stuff in the trunk. You’re unsure if Dante will enter a car other than yours but needn’t have worried. As soon as Jungkook opens the door, he bounds right in and curls up on the backseat.

The entire drive to Jungkook’s place, Dante insists on sticking his head out the window. At first you try to pull him back in, but Jungkook doesn’t mind, even going as far as to join Dante at the end. You cringe beside them, unable to keep from laughing when they both bark at passersby.

Once parked, you take the special elevator from Jungkook’s garage to his place. His doors slide open, and Dante bounds forward, forcing you to drop the leash.

Allowing him to explore, you enter the hall at a slower pace. Jungkook is close behind, setting down the bags to remove his loafers. Stopping beside you, he places a hand on your back.

“Hey,” he says.

Exhaling lowly, you turn to face him.

“Hey,” you murmur.

Jungkook searches your face. “Are you okay with all of this?”

“Yeah. It’s just… this feels big. You know?”

“I know.” He pauses. “I haven’t been serious about much in my life, Y/N, but I’m serious about this. About you.”

“Good,” you say, and step closer. “I’m serious about you, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles down at you. “Good.”

Bending, Jungkook brushes his lips to yours – once, twice before he pulls back. He leaves a small space, enough room to say no. Instead, you grip his jacket and pull him closer. Jungkook breaks down, a low groan in his throat as his mouth opens yours.

Cupping the back of your neck, Jungkook pulls you to him. He molds your body with his and you inhale, feeling his arousal thicken between you. His hardness presses against your stomach and you bite down – hard – on his lower lip.

Abruptly, he pulls back. “Wait,” Jungkook pants.

Somewhat dazed, you stare up at him. Tearing his gaze from yours, Jungkook glances away and you spot the source of his concern splayed out on his sofa. Dante – now fast asleep, all paws in the air.

“He…” Jungkook gapes. “He was just running around.”

Reaching up, you return Jungkook’s stunned gaze to yours. “He’ll be like that until morning,” you say. “Dante only does things full-out.”

“Hm,” he muses. “Likewise.”

Slowly, Jungkook’s gaze drops to scan your curves. His hands follow, cupping and seeking each inch of bare skin. When he stops above your ass, Jungkook cups you roughly and pulls you against him. Lowering, he opens your mouth with his in a dizzying kiss.

Without looking up, Jungkook walks the two of you backwards and down his hall. At his room, Jungkook ignores the handle to press you to the wood.

“I’ve thought about this so many times,” he confesses, breaking away to kiss down your jaw. “Every night since you left.”

‘Since I left? Jungkook, you were the one who –”

“You said I shouldn’t have come.”

“Because you shouldn’t have,” you say, distracted by his tongue on your skin. “That didn’t mean I didn’t want you there.”

“Complicated woman,” Jungkook growls, lifting his head. “Let’s just say what we mean from now on, yeah?”

You can’t help but smile. “A lofty goal.”

His gaze sparks. “I like to be aspirational. For instance”– achingly slow, his hand travels down your thigh – “I want you to come three times tonight.”

“Three?”

Hitching your knee, Jungkook presses his hips to yours. You inhale when you feel his cock harden against your core. Without looking away, he thrusts upward, and you can’t help but whimper.

“Three,” Jungkook repeats.

Hand sliding higher, he regrips your ass. Holding tight, Jungkook thrusts again and you groan at the feel of him through his pants. You want less fabric, more clothing gone and Jungkook seems to echo your urgent desire.

Reaching behind you, he fumbles for the door. It opens abruptly and you nearly fall, but Jungkook catches you in time. Kicking the door shut behind you, he doesn’t bother with the light – not with the skyline so bright before you.

Turning you around, Jungkook drags both palms up your sides. You can’t help but shiver, moaning when his lips brush below your ear.

You’re surprised when he doesn’t remove your dress. Instead, Jungkook steps closer and entwines your hand with his. Pulling you backwards to his chest, he slowly lifts your arm to drape around his neck.

Slipping a hand beneath your dress from the side, he cups your breast. Inhaling, you arch when Jungkook flicks over a nipple. This is followed by a soft caress, turning your nipple rock hard while you squirm against him.

Pushing back with your ass, you grind his crotch until Jungkook grabs your hip.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs, flicking your nipple again.

Exhaling roughly, you slip a hand in between you to palm over his pants. Rather than punish you for it, Jungkook pushes his cock forward, into your hand.

“That’s it, princess,” he breathes in your ear. “So fucking dirty, aren’t you? Couldn’t keep yourself from touching my cock. See how hard you make me?”

“So hard,” you whimper. “Want you inside me.”

“Not yet. Need you out of this dress.”

Barely do the words register before Jungkook tugs down your zipper. You’re forced to let go when Jungkook steps backwards. Undoing the clasp at your nape, he releases your dress to fall to the floor.

Staring at him in the window, you watch Jungkook step forward.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, gripping your waist. Pressing you to his front, he casually trails a hand up your naked body. “So fucking beautiful.” With his other hand, Jungkook plays with the line of your panties. “What do you want, Y/N?”

“More,” you pant, watching your reflection’s chest rise and fall.

“Hm.” Cupping your sex, Jungkook pulls you back. “I need you to be more specific,” he whispers in your ear. “My mouth? Hand? Want to come on my cock?”

“All of it,” you blurt, greedy.

Jungkook chuckles. “Need you out of those heels first, princess. No matter how fucking hot you look in them.”

You nod and, in the window, watch Jungkook bend to help you from the shoes. Tossing the heels aside, he sits back on his knees. You stare at his reflection; certain you’ve never seen someone so beautiful.

“Bed,” Jungkook rasps with a jerk of his chin. “I need you to walk to my bed, princess. Then turn around and place both hands on the mattress.”

Whatever snappy retort you had dies on your tongue. Instead, you merely nod and obey. Watching him in the window, you see Jungkook stand, palming himself as you walk. Reaching his bed, you lower your palms to spread on the sheets.

Silent, Jungkook watches, only heightening your anticipation.

His footsteps are soft, heavy while approaching the bed. Your breath quickens at the soft click and thud of his belt hitting the floor. Glancing over your shoulder, you almost wish you hadn’t. The ravenous look on his face, staring at your cunt nearly ruins you.

Gaze flicking upward, Jungkook catches you watching.

“Face forward,” he says, stepping closer to run his hand up your thigh. “Or I’ll go even slower.”

Swallowing hard, you face forward. True to his word, Jungkook is slow in his exploration. His fingers casually glide along the edge of your panties, teasing and dipping but never removing. Every now and then, he slips a single digit inside, barely grazing the mound of your swollen flesh. Biting down on your lip, you push your ass backwards.

Darkly, he chuckles. “Do you want these panties gone, princess?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please,” you grind out, glaring over your shoulder.

Smiling wickedly, Jungkook slips his hands under your panties and pulls towards the ground. He helps you step out, leaving you suddenly bare. Placing one hand on your lower back, Jungkook pushes you forward until you feel his weight over yours.

“All this,” he murmurs, sliding his hand up your leg. The tips of his fingers brush where you ache, and you suck in a breath. “For me.”

“For you,” you groan, head hung in anticipation.

The warmth of him is tangible, his waist aligned with yours but just out of reach. Jungkook’s hand wanders up the back of your thigh.

“Can I touch you here?” he murmurs, dragging his fingers in a v over your aching center.

“God, yes.”

Repeating the motion, Jungkook lightly strokes each side of your sex. On his way back down, his thumb swipes your center, and he lets out a groan.

“So fucking wet,” Jungkook says, sounding pained. “You’re so fucking wet, and I’ve barely touched you.”

“I can’t help it,” you whimper.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he says, his tone soft as he slips a finger inside. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Men should line up and kneel before a pussy like this.”

A spark ignites. Lifting your head, you meet his gaze in the window.

“Then, why don’t you?” you ask sweetly.

Jungkook’s pupils dilate. While you watch, he lifts his hand to slap the round curve of your ass. “Because,” he says lowly, “other men don’t know what to do with a cunt as gorgeous as yours. I do, though – don’t I, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you exhale, arching again. “You do.”

Even this – the slow anticipation – is driving you wild. You know Jungkook will make you orgasm and know he’ll do it in a way which makes you feel good; a level of trust you’ve extended to few others.

“That said.” Jungkook chuckles and drops to his knees.

Staring, your lips part when he spreads your folds. You’re sure you must be a sight, bent over and glistening while he stares at your opening. Suddenly, Jungkook spits and you sharply inhale. His spit trickles down your pussy, mixing with your slick and making you clench.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you groan when he circles your clit with his thumb. Before you can say any more, Jungkook spreads your folds and the next thing you feel is his tongue. “Oh my god,” you gasp, broken.

Bent over, the best you can do is stay upright while Jungkook eats you out. Nose brushing your clit, he follows this with his mouth, then tongue. At some point, his fingers join in, gently tracing your opening before slipping in one, and then two to slowly stretch you.

You whimper, hands fisting in the sheets while your legs start to tremble. Jungkook sucks on your clit, long and slow before flicking his tongue in staccato. Thighs spreading further, you sink down to allow better access.

Switching positions, Jungkook licks your clit while his fingers fuck you. “Goddamn, Y/N,” he breathes. “You’re so wet.” Pulling away, he stands from the floor to bend forward. One hand on the bed, Jungkook parts your legs with his other palm. “Clenching around me so nicely.”

Slipping two fingers back in, he spreads you wider before pulling out. Lips brushing your neck, Jungkook plays with your pussy as though he owns it.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so good with just two of my fingers. Need to stretch you out before you can take my cock.”

“I can take it,” you pant.

“Not yet,” Jungkook says, curling his fingers. “Want you dripping and ready before I fill you with my cum.”

You clench at the thought, and Jungkook lets out a hiss. Lifting his hand from the bed, he cups your front to stroke your clit. The pleasure builds quickly, his fingers continuing to move while his other hand teases. Bent over and helpless, all you can do is take it.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, your thighs shaking. “I’m close.”

“Oh?” he murmurs, adding a third finger. You groan, feeling stuffed – and still not remotely close to how thick his cock is. “Take another – you’re doing so well for me, princess.”

Shifting, his fingers hit a spot deep inside you which makes you cry out. Pushed over the edge, your orgasm is fast – squeezing his fingers, you gasp as you ride out the wave. Jungkook helps you through it, coaxing you gently down from the high.

When the last of your tremors has subsided, he withdraws his hand. Pressing a kiss to your neck, Jungkook waits until you turn around.

“How was that?” he asks.

“How… was that?” you ask, amazed as you catch your breath.

Earth-shattering, and yet you barely feel sated. Most of Jungkook is clothed and, feeling the injustice, you take a step forward and press your naked body to his.

“I want more,” you tell him.

“That so?” Jungkook murmurs, cupping your ass with one hand.

“Yeah,” you say, your breath quickening when his fingers swipe through your slick. “Want you naked, Jungkook. Please.”

Wordless, he steps backwards to lower his hands to his pants. Jungkook undoes a button and, finding his efforts too slow, you move forward. Replacing his hands on the zipper, you tug them down as he laughs. Assisting your efforts, Jungkook steps free from his pants to reveal black boxer-briefs.

“Now, your shirt,” you demand.

Lifting a brow, Jungkook undoes the first button. “So greedy,” he says, unable to stop from smiling. “Someone might think you only want them for their body.”

There’s no bite to the words, but you soften regardless. Yoongi’s frankness about Jungkook using sex to keep people away surfaces in your mind. When Jungkook’s shirt hits the floor to reveal tan skin and ink, you barely even notice, stepping closer.

“Hey,” you say softly.

He pauses.

“Jungkook.” You hesitate. “As much as I love… this, between us… that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I want more than that. I want you. In every way. I need you to know that.”

Uncertainty steals across his features, soon replaced by understanding. Bending his head, Jungkook kisses you – a gesture so light, you barely feel it.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “I do know.”

“Good.”

“Good.” He pulls back. “And as wonderful as that is to hear, I have every intention of making you come in my bed until you forget your damn name.”

Your breath catches, followed by a moan when his teeth scrape your jaw.

“Sit on the bed,” Jungkook says quietly in your ear.

Unthinking, you obey. When your knees hit the mattress, you sit and scoot backwards until your feet leave the floor.

Jungkook tilts his head. “Spread your legs. I want to see you.”

Slowly, you spread them and lean back on your elbows. Jungkook inhales, his eyes darkening as he takes a step forward.

“Wider,” he murmurs, lowering one knee to the mattress. “Good. That’s better, princess.”

Sliding one hand up your thigh, Jungkook brushes a kiss to your skin. Grasping your waist, he uses this as an anchor while leaning forward.

“How do you want me?” he asks and looks up.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how do you want me?” His lips curve. “From behind? Standing? Bent over? Spooning? You aren’t on your period, right?” Jungkook asks, as though the thought just occurred to him.

“N-no,” you assure. “Not yet.”

“So?” he asks, returning to the question at hand. “What position do you want to start in?”

“Uh, all of them?”

His lip twitches. Sitting back, Jungkook crosses both arms across his chest. This causes his biceps to flex which, honestly, is unfair. It seems Jungkook knows what he’s doing, as well – he lifts a brow with maddening arrogance.

“All in good time, princess,” he says. “But how do you want me to fuck you right now?”

“I want to see you,” you confess. “Please.”

Understanding, Jungkook nods and lowers himself to his elbows. Little by little, he releases his weight to press you to the bed. His kisses start slow, but soon, Jungkook’s hands are skimming your curves, losing himself in the feel of your body.

Grinding your hips, you feel the length of him harden. Sliding one hand down his side, you trace the band of his boxers to tug them lower.

Jungkook starts to laugh when you mostly succeed in freeing his ass. Scooting backwards, he removes his boxers and tosses them on the floor. When Jungkook returns to your legs, you exhale with satisfaction – which soon turns to a groan when he captures your nipple with teeth.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you arch against him. Jungkook’s cock slides against your sex, getting him wet in a way that drives you mad.

“Y/N,” Jungkook rasps. “Look at you. So fucking needy beneath me.”

“Need it,” you moan. “Need you.”

“You have me,” he says, intensity flooding his gaze.

“Do I?”

“All of me,” Jungkook promises. Reaching lower, he positions himself at your entrance. “I’m yours, Y/N.”

Almost reverently, Jungkook drags his cock through your arousal. Teasingly, he circles your clit before moving lower. He does this again – and again, and again – until you think you might burst.

“Jungkook,” you pant.

Gaze lifting, Jungkook presses his cock to your center – and freezes. You go still as well, certain something is wrong.

“Jungkook?” you ask, tentative. “Is everything alright?”

“Fuck.” Jerking back, his hand drops. “Shit – I forgot. Condom.”

Leaning across the bed, Jungkook starts to open a drawer when you grab his hand. Halting his movement, Jungkook glances your way.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, returning immediately. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I – no,” you breath, face suddenly hot. “It’s just… I’m on the pill. And I’m clean. I was tested last week, and I haven’t been with anyone else since the second time we, uh…”

Jungkook looks at you intently. “What exactly are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’m saying you don’t need to use a condom – if you’re also clean.”

“I am.” He pauses. “I went to the doctor this week. But Y/N…” Jungkook trails off. “I’ve actually never…”

He falters, unsure and you realize what he’s trying to say. Jungkook has never had sex without a condom. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised, given his lack of relationships but still – you didn’t think there’d be anything you’d done before him.

Gently, you touch the side of his face. “We don’t have to,” you tell him. “I know this is a big step. I just thought I’d ask.”

When you move to withdraw, Jungkook catches your hand in his. “It is a big step. But I want to take it with you. If you’re sure,” he adds, quiet.

“I’m sure.”

Jungkook stares at you a long moment, then releases your hand. Lowering himself, he opens your mouth with his. Fingers twisting into his hair, you raise your hips, and he lets out a groan. When you shift, feeling his cock press to your hip, the need is nearly unbearable.

Reaching down, Jungkook repositions himself at your entrance. There’s a moment of hesitation before he pushes in, stopping after only an inch. Both of you inhale, relishing the feel. The tip of his cock is swollen and thick, and when Jungkook pushes in a bit further you stifle a moan.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasps, sounding raw. “You feel so fucking good.”

Lifting your hips, you make him slide an inch deeper.

Jungkook grunts. “Don’t do that,” he warns. “Unless you want me to come in the next twenty seconds.”

Smiling, you fall back and allow him to go at his pace – not that you mind. Jungkook stares intently at the point where he enters your body, unable to believe this is happening. Each inch he gains makes you feel a bit fuller and when he’s nearly halfway, you reach down to slowly rub your clit. Jungkook’s eyes glaze at the sight, muttering something beneath his breath about how hot you are.

With a final thrust, he sheathes himself fully and you gasp. Filled to the brim, you have the unbearable urge to move but Jungkook’s expression is nearly past his limit. Exhaling lowly, his gaze lifts to yours.

“God,” he mutters. “This is… the way you feel… is so unbelievable.”

Breath catching, you nod. Without a condom, you can feel every inch of Jungkook inside you. It makes him feel closer, as though you’ve let him in in more ways than one. Lifting your hips, you try to take him deeper.

Jungkook grits his teeth. “Not yet,” he warns. “Give me… a minute.”

Eventually, the tension leaves his jaw and Jungkook slowly pulls out. The loss of him makes you whimper, and with equal deliberation, Jungkook pushes back in. When he sees you bite down on your lower lip, he smirks.

Before you can huff, Jungkook repeats the motion – this time, harder. Both of you groan when your hips meet, feeling the way you easily stretch around him.

“Goddamn,” he murmurs, one hand on the bed. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. Feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock.”

Tightening your legs around his waist, you take him in deeper. Lifting himself onto his elbows, Jungkook thrusts a bit harder to hit a new angle.

“Ah,” you moan, arching your back. “There, Jungkook – right there.”

“There?” he murmurs. “That’s what you want, princess?”

Frantic, you nod and try to coax him faster. Jungkook merely chuckles, dragging the motion out so you feel his entire length inside you.

“Patience,” he coaxes. “You’re so good for me, Y/N. So fucking tight and perfect – made for me. This pussy was made for my cock.”

“Yeah, it was,” you breathe, your chest brushing his. “You’re so fucking hard. Fuck me so good.”

“Yeah, I do,” Jungkook growls, claiming your mouth with his own.

He doesn’t change speed, but each thrust is sharp, hard, driving you up on the bed. The motion causes your breasts to bounce, caught in between you. Breaking away, Jungkook lowers himself to suck a nipple between his teeth.

“Oh my god,” you whimper.

Pulling abruptly back out, Jungkook adopts a kneeling position. Yanking your thighs closer, he notches himself at your entrance and pushes – a groan escapes, the position allowing him to get even deeper.

“That’s it,” he breathes, bending forward. “Want to feel you come on my cock.”

Pressure building, your hands slide up your body to cup your breasts. Inhaling softly, Jungkook fixates on the sight as he thrusts even harder.

“Is this what you want, princess?” Jungkook grunts, the hard, heavy hit of his cock makes your eyes glaze. “Thought so.” His smile is smug. “All you want is a thick cock inside you.

“Yes,” you groan. “Don’t stop, Jungkook.”

“I’m not gonna stop, baby,” he says, leaning forward to hit a deeper angle. “Need my cock to make you come so good, right? How’s that?”

“Th-that’s it,” you gasp, choking on words. “Jungkook!”

Each thrust deepens the pleasure, your thighs starting to shake while you fight to hold on. Your perception narrows to his cock between your legs, his chest brushing yours until you come. Pleasure breaks over you, so strong it nearly pulls you under. Gasping his name, you hear Jungkook swear when you tighten around him. He continues to thrust, supporting your orgasm until you whimper.

Slowly, your eyes open to find him above you. Brushing a kiss to your cheek, Jungkook gently pulls out and sits back. Struggling to prop yourself up on both elbows, your gaze lowers. His cock stands in what must be a painful erection, but Jungkook pays this no notice.

Instead, his attention is fixated on you. “Are you alright?”

You nearly laugh. “Are you?”

A wry smile crosses his face. “Answer the question.”

“I’m… amazing,” you exhale, collapsing slightly. “Blissed out by the multiple orgasms.”

Jungkook’s brow sketches upward. “Just two, and you’re done?”

His tone is dark with promise and instantly, your body stirs. Not that it ever fully relaxed – the second orgasm did more than the first, but still, you crave more.

“Are you done, Jungkook?” you ask sweetly.

Boldly, his gaze lowers to your spread legs before him. Blistering heat enters his gaze, taking in your drenched cunt.

“No,” he admits, slowly fisting his cock. You watch while he drags his hand up and down. “I’m not done, but I can come on your chest. Or in my hand. Whatever you prefer.”

“Or,” you exhale, flipping onto your stomach, “you could fuck me like I know you want to.”

From behind, Jungkook inhales. Glancing at him over your shoulder, you nearly come on the spot. Jungkook stares at you, ravenous, as though you’ve gifted him heaven. There’s no need to ask twice.

“On your hands and knees, baby,” he demands, moving closer. “I need you hard and fast. Feeling you come around my cock was so fucking hot – I won’t last long.”

Nodding, you hastily position yourself, ass-up on the bed. Coming to a stop, Jungkook drags his fingers through the slick at your entrance. Grasping your hips, he pulls them higher and leans forward.

‘Such a good girl,” he murmurs, slipping two fingers inside you. “Can you come for me again?”

“Yes,” you pant, pushing back on his hand.

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook replaces them with his cock to fill you with one thrust. He pauses, adjusting to the feeling of you from behind. In the window’s reflection, you can see how good it looks to be fucked by his cock.

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. Smirking a little, he lifts his hand to bring it back down. You groan at the sound, arching your back to invite him further. Jungkook obliges, spanking you harder when he thrusts his hips deeper.

“You want it rough?” he murmurs, sliding one hand up your spine. “Can you take it, princess?”

“Please, Jungkook,” you beg him. “I need you to make me come again.”

“So greedy.” Dragging his fingers through your arousal, Jungkook rocks his hips forward. “I love a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Harder, Jungkook,” you pant.

His grip tightens. “As you command.”

Pulling back out, he pauses – and releases whatever hold he had on himself. Jungkook doesn’t ease you into it; as promised, he fucks you hard and fast. Fingers digging into the sides of your ass, Jungkook pounds into you. Each thrust has his balls slapping your clit, pleasure sparking inside you.

“Oh – fuck,” you gasp, head thrown back. “Jungkook!”

Shifting his hips, he hits a spot deep inside which makes your whole body tremble. A deep, throbbing need spirals through you, leaving you weightless.

“Jungkook.”

Sensing the shift, he manages to go even faster. “Right there?” Jungkook grunts, and you nearly sob. “That’s it, baby. Just relax. I’ll take care of it. I’ve got you.”

Turning your head, you lower your chest to the sheets and spread your thighs wider. Yanking your hips upwards, Jungkook takes control and drives into your body.

“Oh – oh,” you gasp, worrying you might split in half.

“Come for me, baby,” Jungkook urges. “Want to feel you around me. Want to paint this cunt white.”

Edged beyond belief, your hand slips higher to trace over your clit. Noticing this, Jungkook groans.

“That’s it, princess,” he pants. “Touch yourself. Feel how fucking hard you make me. How badly I need to come. Can’t wait to fill you up. Let everyone know whose pussy this is. Do you want that?” he grunts. “Want me to mark you like that?”

“Yes,” you hiccup. “Want your cum so bad inside me. Want to feel you for days.”

The thought of it overwhelms you so much, you can’t hold it in – your orgasm claims you. Jungkook’s hips stutter when your body releases, squeezing him tightly. Gasping, he follows, the heat of his cum pulsing into your body. Jungkook continues to thrust until there’s nothing left, staying inside you while your breathing steadies.

Slowly, he bends and lifts you from the bed. Limp in his arms, you can’t help but smile when he kisses your neck. Eventually, Jungkook pulls himself out – you move to cup yourself, but he’s already there, his hand slipped between you.

Lazily, Jungkook drags his fingers through the mess, mingling your slick with his in slow strokes. When he exhales in satisfaction, you can’t keep your nipples from hardening.

Noticing this, Jungkook chuckles. “You like that?” he murmurs, continuing to play with your pussy. “Like the feel of my cum inside you?”

Wordless, you move your hips against his hand. Other hand traveling up your torso, Jungkook tugs a nipple, and you suck in a breath.

“If you keep doing that,” you whisper, “you’ll make me come again.”

Jungkook pauses. “Want me to?” he asks lowly. “I’d love to eat you out like this.”

On instinct, your lips part and you meet his gaze in the window. Jungkook grins and, before you can respond, he’s guiding you onto your back.

“Is that a yes?” he teases.

“Yeah,” you breathe, staring up at him.

“Shit, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters, staring at your messy sex. “You’re unbelievable.”

Although cock has gone mostly soft, it twitches at the sight. When you spread your thighs wider, Jungkook groans and lowers himself to the sheets.

He starts off slow, trailing his fingers up and down your oversensitive sex. When his touch starts to feel good, Jungkook grips your thigh to open wider.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, and bends forward.

The first sweep of his tongue makes you sigh. Jungkook eases you into it, avoiding sensitive places, working your body until you writhe beneath him. When he finally takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, you arch clean off the bed. Lowering your hands to his hair, you guide Jungkook with strands wrapped around your fingers.

Growling, Jungkook moves one hand to your thigh to keep you pinned in place. His dark hair is a halo across your skin while he eats his cum from your pussy. Pushing your hips higher, you move in a circle to get him where you want.

Panting, Jungkook looks up. “You taste so good,” he murmurs. “Next time, I’m keeping my cum inside you. Want to pull up your panties and let everyone know that you’re mine.”

You stare at him, shocked and aroused by the concept. It’s something that’s never really intrigued you but now, with him, the thought is appealing.

“And I’m yours,” Jungkook adds, softer.

Before you can melt too much at this statement, he lowers his head and sucks your clit. Groaning aloud, you grab his hair and barely hold on. Finger tracing your entrance, Jungkook strokes and teases while you grind on his face. When he pushes his finger inside, the glide is made even easier by his cum inside you.

“Oh – fuck,” you gasp. “That feels so fucking good, Jungkook.”

“Does it?” Lifting his head, he curls his finger. “You like being this filthy, baby? Like having me eat my own cum from this perfect pussy?”

“Y-es.”

“Good,” he pants. “Because same.”

When you glance down, you nearly come on the spot. Jungkook’s hips are lifted, allowing him access to palm his cock while he eats you out. Stunned, you watch his ass tense while he grinds into his hand. A brief flash of his fingers through legs shows him cupping his balls, giving them a soft tug, and you nearly combust.

“Jungkook,” you groan. “Are you hard yet?”

“Nearly there, princess.”

“Want you inside me,” you say. “Now.”

Immediately, Jungkook pulls back to sit on his heels. Staring intently at your body, he strokes his half-hardened cock.

“Alright,” he said, his voice rough. “Touch yourself. Play with my cum inside you – that’ll get me so fucking hard.”

Spreading your thighs, you trail your fingers up and down your sex. Spreading yourself further, you give Jungkook the view he craves. When you sink a finger inside, he groans in approval and thumbs over his cock.

“Want you,” you say, watching him harden. “Want to feel you so deep in this pussy. Want you to fill me up with your cum and keep it there. Flip me over and fuck me so hard, I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Jungkook grunts, giving himself a final stroke before gripping your thigh to push towards your chest. Thrusting forward, he fills you in one stroke and you both groan in tandem.

“Fuck.” Jungkook stares, watching the last of his cum drip from your pussy. “You’re so goddamn tight, Y/N. Even tighter than before.”

“Feel… feel so full,” you say, breathless.

Jungkook’s gaze sparks as he slowly pulls out. “That’s it,” he breathes, pushing back in. “Gonna fuck all my cum right out of you. Fill you up a second time – you want that?”

“Yes,” you manage. “Please.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” he says, fucking you in rough thrusts which drive you up on the bed. “Gotta treat this pussy right.”

“You do,” you groan, face buried in his neck.

Jungkook’s hips are relentless, thrusting into you hard and making you tremble. Clinging to his back, you feel his steady thrusts bring you fast to the edge. You’re so close to breaking when Jungkook abruptly pulls out.

“Jungkook?” you say, dazed. “What are you –”

“Like this,” he says, shifting you to lay on your side. Grasping your knee, Jungkook lifts your thigh, pressing his hips to yours from behind.

Repositioning himself, Jungkook pushes back in. You gasp at the loss of control, everything feeling so wet and tight in the position. Releasing your knee, Jungkook gently pushes you forward to fuck you from behind.

“Jungkook,” you groan, pushing backwards.

“Yeah, princess?”

Your heart skips a beat. “I need… more.”

Sliding his arm beneath your knee again, Jungkook lifts your leg to open your body. The position allows him to get even deeper and, a groan slipping past, your eyes flutter shut.

“Keep your knee up,” Jungkook demands, and releases.

Hand sliding higher, he cups your breast to stroke over a nipple. Teasing, he trails lower to stop above your sex. When you whimper, he gives in and strokes in slow circles. Watching him touch you in the window reflection is an added rush.

“That’s it,” Jungkook murmurs, thrusting harder. “So fucking gorgeous. Ready to come so easily on my cock.”

“For you,” you moan. “Always for you, Jungkook.”

He growls, teeth scraping your neck as he draws his hand away and regrasps your leg. Pulling this higher, he tugs you against him to fuck even harder. Your entire body shudders, on the verge of release.

“Touch yourself,” Jungkook gasps. “I’m about to come.”

You obey, fingers slipping over your clit, lost in the feeling of him deep inside you. Already close to the edge, it doesn’t take long before you tighten around him. Pleasure breaks through you in a hard, quick orgasm which leaves you shattered. Jungkook comes soon after, moving inside you until the last of his cum trickles out.

He stays as long as he can but eventually, Jungkook pulls out. Grabbing a tissue, he returns to clean you and, once done, drops back on the mattress.

“That was…” Jungkook stares at the ceiling. “Amazing.”

Turning over, you loosely drape your arm over his chest. For once in your life, you don’t feel the urge to dissect what just happened. Gently, Jungkook lowers his head to brush a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah,” you exhale.

“I should probably clean up,” he says after a pause. “Want to use my bathroom? I can use the one in the living room.”

“Okay.”

Reluctantly, you pull back to place your feet on the floor. Staring out at the skyline, a thought suddenly occurs to you.

“Am I sleeping in here?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder.

Jungkook hovers, one foot on the ground. “Uh… I assumed so, yeah? Unless you want to stay upstairs?”

“No, no,” you hasten. “I want to stay here.”

“Oh, okay.” His shoulders relax. “Good.”

Jungkook’s grin makes you smile and, after retrieving your bag, you rush to get ready. Rather aggressively, you scrub your face – each second apart feels like wasted time. Once finished, you stare at your pajamas and then shake your head.

Heading to the door, you push it open a crack. Jungkook stands beside his dresser, plugging in his phone to charge. Despite what he said, he’s dressed in a new pair of boxers and not in the nude.

Pointedly, you clear your throat, and he turns.

Seeing you half in, half out of his bathroom, Jungkook lifts a brow. “Yes?”

Innocently, you blink. “Can I borrow a t-shirt?”

Shifting his weight, Jungkook crosses both arms. Again, this makes his biceps pop, and you narrow your gaze. His hotness infuriates you, amongst other feelings.

“Are you going to return any of my other clothing?” Jungkook asks drily. “Because I seem to be missing several other items.”

Eyes wide, you ask, “Are you sure it was me? Maybe your dry cleaner misplaced things.”

“Or I’ve loaned you several things you’ve yet to give back.”

“What can I say?” Grin wide, you shrug. “You smell good. That t-shirt I borrowed is my new favorite nightdress.”

Hearing this, his eyes go hazy with want. Silent, Jungkook turns around to walk towards his dresser. Withdrawing a large, cotton t-shirt, he turns around.

“You can have this,” Jungkook says, “on the condition my other items be returned.”

“Well, sure,” you say, accepting his t-shirt through the door. “Your other clothes don’t smell like you anymore. We’ll need a rotation.”

Faux annoyance vanishing, Jungkook leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “I don’t care,” he murmurs, pulling back. “Keep it. Keep all my shirts. I’ll walk around naked.”

“That would cause some serious traffic problems,” you say, slightly dazed.

Jungkook just grins, gesturing with one finger for you to turn around. Retreating to his bathroom, you slip his t-shirt overhead as you shut the door. Adding a fresh pair of underwear, you zip your bag shut and exit.

Jungkook is already in bed, his covers pulled back and waiting.

“Does Dante always sleep like that?” he asks when you climb inside.

“Like what?”

“You know.” Pulling a face, he mimics your sleeping dog. “On his back, with his tongue out.”

You can’t help but laugh. “That’s his natural state, I’ll have you know. How rude of you to judge him.”

“No judgment! I was scared I broke him.”

Grinning, you slide beneath his sheets. Draping your arm over Jungkook’s waist, you turn your head to rest on his chest. Gently, your fingers trail through the smattering of hair which leads to his boxers.

Frowning, you think about the last time you slept in the same bed. While that night at your apartment was wonderful, the morning after was less so and unthinkingly, your arm tightens. Staring at the ink on his chest, you trace Jungkook’s tattoos with your gaze and remind yourself how different things are.

“That night meant something to me,” he says quietly.

Startled, you look up. “What night?”

Jungkook exhales. “When I stayed at your place. When we slept together, and I… well, it had been a long time since I stayed at someone else’s place. Actually, ever.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He pauses. “I panicked. I woke up and saw you and… I knew this was special.” Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, needing you to understand. “I’d been feeling things for a while, but that was the day I woke up and… I just knew. But you didn’t want more than sex, and there I was, breaking the rules. I was terrified you’d wake up, look at me, and know. So, I left.”

“Jungkook…” you murmur, putting the pieces together.

He exhales. “It was stupid, but there it is. I’m sorry.”

“So, that day… you left because you felt too much?”

“Yeah. I tried to be casual about it in my text, but I think I may have overcompensated.”

Your lips twitch. “I’ll say.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His gaze softens. “I’m sorry if I did.”

“That makes two of us. But Jungkook… you already apologized for what happened before – so did I. This is a fresh start.”

“A fresh start, mm?” He fights back a yawn. “Sounds nice.”

“Mm.” You return your head to his chest. “Consider this a blank slate.”

Rather than relax, Jungkook tightens beneath you. Uncertain, you lift your head and find him staring at the ceiling. His brow furrows, deep in thought and you wait for him to speak whatever’s on his mind.

“I just… I should tell you more.” He swallows, and you watch his throat work. “About my childhood. About my family, and why I… why I am the way I am.”

“You don’t have to tell me right now,” you say, sensing how difficult this is. “I want to know more – I do. I want to know everything about you, Jungkook. It doesn’t have to be tonight, though. I’m not going anywhere.”

Grateful, Jungkook turns his head to look at you. Grasping your hand in his, he lifts them both to press a kiss to your fingers.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs, lowering them to his chest. “I just… I want tonight to be about the two of us. No one else.”

You nod because you understand. It’s difficult to let people in; even the ones you want to know more about. Guilt steals through you though, knowing what you already do.

“You should know, though…” You hesitate. “Yoongi mentioned your childhood to me. He didn’t give specifics, but he gave a general idea.”

Jungkook merely chuckles. “I know,” he says softly. “And like I said, I’m not angry. Yoongi was right. I tend to let people think the worst of me – and rather than prove them right, I push them away. It’s something I’m working on in therapy.”

“Therapy, huh?” you murmur. “That’s great, Jungkook.”

“Been seeing them on and off. It’s a lot of change, taking over Jeon Energy. I thought it’d be good to talk through it all.”

“That’s really good,” you agree. “I’ve been thinking of doing the same.”

Jungkook simply nods and accepts this. After all, trauma never really disappears. It just becomes easier to deal with, something to live with and to know how to respond to.

“Anyways.” Jungkook swallows. “I wanted to tell you I’m trying. I want this. I want you. And I want to be better for me, too.”

Heart swelling against your ribcage, you press even closer.

“I want you, too, Jungkook,” you whisper. “It’s hard for me to trust, but I trust you. Completely.”

Cupping your chin in one hand, Jungkook lifts you to him for a kiss. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You know the room you stayed in?” he murmurs.

Brow furrowing, you nod. “Yeah?”

Releasing your chin, Jungkook’s gaze shifts towards the door.

“I made that room for my mom,” he admits. “It was the type of space she liked, a style she would have picked. When she died…” He hesitates. “I was scared I’d lose that warmth in my life. That I’d turn into my father, obsessed with the family business. I think I did for a while,” he confesses, glancing down. “But now…”

Trailing off, Jungkook doesn’t finish his sentence, and you don’t make him. Taking his hand, you lower your head to his chest again. Jungkook’s arm tightens, pulling you closer, and your thigh ends up draped over his.

“You could never be like your dad,” you murmur against his skin. “Granted, I don’t know him well, but I know you, Jungkook. You helped me without asking for anything in return. You changed Jeon Energy from the inside and maybe that took a while, but it’s the kind of change that lasts. You’re the best person I know,” you add, your voice dropping. “If I need to spend the rest of my life reminding you, I’ll do it.”

Gently, Jungkook tilts your chin upward with his thumb. Your gazes meet, and you’re struck by the sudden realization that this man is yours.

Just as you’re his.

“Likewise, princess,” he murmurs and kisses you.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) This is the last chapter in this series. I will be writing an epilogue, but it will take place after this story. I do not have a tag list, so please do not ask to be added or ask about updates. My writing progress can be found in my updates schedule, linked in both my header and FAQ!

[Series Master List]

© kpopfanfictrash, 2022. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[whump-imagines]

College Parties

Buck & little sister reader

WC: 1575

Warnings: drugging, overdose... cover your drinks people.

It was your last college party. You and your roommate, Becca, were making the most of celebrating before graduation. Or at least you assumed that she was, you hadn't seen her in nearly an hour.

You mingled and spent most of the night talking about everyone's future plans. You had also been getting hit on all night and turning down every offer to get out of there.

Walking through the house towards the back deck, someone came around a corner and bumped straight into you. Your drink sloshed and you almost lost your balance but he was quick to wrap one arm around your waist and steady your drink with the other. “Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry.”

You looked up as he chuckled. His name was John or maybe Jack, you couldn't be sure. You’d already turned down an offer from him once tonight. “You can bump into me anytime you want,” he said, flashing you a cocky smirk.

Fighting the urge to physically shudder at his tacky line, you quickly extracted yourself from his grasp. “Later,” you brushed past him without further comment. As you walked you threw back the rest of your lukewarm drink, cringing at the taste.

You walked out the back door to get some fresh air. There were several groups of people huddled around laughing and chatting and a loud group playing beer pong.

Within a few minutes, your slight buzz shifted to world-spinning dizziness. Next you felt sweat accumulate at your hairline. When you lifted your hand to wipe it away you realized your hands were shaking.

You quickly headed into the nearest bathroom and locked the handle as you closed the door. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your reflection as you tried to collect yourself. Turning on the water, you splashed the cool liquid over your face.

Nothing seemed to be helping and you knew you hadn't drank enough to feel like this. “Shit.”

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and hesitated as the screen lit up. “He's gonna kill me.” You took a deep breath as you opened the phone app. Squeezing your eyes closed, you reminded yourself, “he’ll be angrier if something happens and you didn't call.” Then you tapped your big brother’s name and the line started to ring.

“Hello?” His chipper voice came through. You guessed he hadn't checked the caller ID before answering.

“B-Buck?” you muttered quietly.

“Hey, sis.” You could hear the chatter of the firehouse in the background. “What's up?”

You were silent for a moment too long as you tried to collect your thoughts through the sudden haze.

“Hello? Y/N, you okay?” He asked.

“Um, I–I don't know.”

You heard the background noise on his end quiet. “What do you mean?”

You sniffled. “Can you come get me? I'm at a party and I have been drinking but uh–” you stopped as you spaced out again.

You could hear the urgency and concern in his voice as he nearly yelled into the phone. “But what?”

“I don't feel right.” You sat down on the floor with your back against the cool tub. “I only had a couple drinks and I've been here for hours.”

“Where are you?”

You huffed. “I told you. At a party.”

“Where?” He asked again.

“Where at the party? I'm in a bathroom.” You explained what you thought he wanted to know. “Buck, I swear I only had two drinks and one shot. I feel like I had 20. I feel like I'm on a boat. Ugh, I think I might puke,” you rambled.

“Y/N, focus,” Buck interrupted. “Where is the party? What's the address?”

“I don't know. I didn't drive, Becca did.”

You heard him mumble like he was covering the phone. “How long were you in the car? Is it a house? Do you know what street?”

You leaned your head back, suddenly exhausted. “Uhh, we went to dinner. Then we came back toward campus. Gayley!” You suddenly yelled remembering the street name. “Can you come?”

You heard the sigh of relief. “I'm coming. You stay in that bathroom. Is the door locked?”

You peeled your eyes open at the question unsure when you'd closed them.

Glancing at the door to check. “Y/N?” you heard Buck ask urgently.

“Hmm?” You acknowledged.

“Is the door locked?” He asked once more.

“I, uh, don't… I-I think so.”

“Can you check?” He requested.

“I'm so tired,” you gave him your excuse. “I don't think I can get up.”

Then, suddenly someone was knocking and jiggling the door knob. You squeaked as you startled at the noise.

“What happened?” You could tell Buck was panicking.

“Someone knocked,” you explained. “They couldn't open the door.”

“Good. Don't unlock it. We’ll be there soon.” You heard the sirens through the phone.

Your eyes slipped closed once more. “So tired.”

“Don't fall asleep. You keep talking to me.”

You were quiet as you fought to keep your eyes open. “Ev?” You rarely used his old nickname anymore.

“I'm right here,” he reassured.

You shuddered. “I'm scared,” you admitted in a whisper.

“I'm coming,” he promised. “We are two minutes away. You'll be okay.”

“Okay,” you whispered as the world went dark.

Forcing your eyes open, you squinted away from the bright lights. You glanced around trying to figure out where you were. Turning your head, your eyes landed on your hand noticing the IV placed there. Next, you spotted Eddie in a chair beside your bed.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he stood. “W-what?” Your voice cracked and your throat throbbed.

Eddie picked up a cup of water and placed the straw in your mouth. “Slow sips.”

You drank a little and then cleared your throat. “What happened? Where’s Buck?”

“Maddie and Buck just went to talk to your doctor.” He explained. “They will be back in here in a minute.”

“What happened?” You asked again.

He glanced toward the door before locking eyes with you. “They'll be right back. You can talk to them.”

You scowled then tried to recall the last thing you could before you'd woken up here. It was finals week, you'd been celebrating with Becca. Dinner and then you were driving back to campus. The last thing you remembered was the car. “Oh, my god. Were we in a car accident?” You panicked. “Is Becca okay? Eddie, you have to tell me what happened!”

He grabbed your hand and squeezed. “You were not in an accident. Take a deep breath, Becca is fine.”

A moment later, the door swung open and the doctor rushed in followed by your siblings. The doctor was looking between you and the monitors beside the bed.

“Last thing she remembers is the car ride to the party,” Eddie explained. “She guessed they were in an accident and started to hyperventilate.”

“You weren't in an accident,” Buck reiterated. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he'd been crying. “You made it to the party. You called me asking me to come get you because you didn't feel well.”

You couldn't help but to try to connect the pieces. You'd been at a party and called Buck because you'd felt sick but had zero memory of any of it. “Oh, my god. No. No, no, no.”

Buck grabbed the hand that Eddie had been holding a moment earlier. “Nothing happened,” he said, knowing what you were thinking. “Someone drugged you but you locked yourself in the bathroom and you called me.”

Releasing the breath you'd been holding, you whispered, “Thanks god.” You coughed against the remnant pain in your throat. Maddie handed you the cup with the straw and you guzzled the rest of it. “Why does my throat hurt?”

Buck squeezed your hand. “From the tube.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

The doctor spoke up. “You were given GHB. Whoever gave it to you overdosed you. GHB in high doses suppressed the respiratory drive. You were intubated to help you breathe while the drugs cleared your system.”

Tears welled in your eyes as fear swept through you. “I–I could have died.”

Maddie wiped away her own tears. “But you didn't. That's all that matters.”

You closed your eyes trying desperately to remember more. “How did someone drug me?”

“Someone probably slipped it into a drink.” The doctor offered.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don't take drinks from anyone. My friends don't even make my drink because I like to control the liquor to soda mix. They think I'm a freak about it. No way I took a drink from anyone.”

The doctor shrugged. “Someone could have dropped something into your cup when you were distracted.”

You shuddered at the thought. “Guess I'm glad it was my last party. When can I go home?”

Buck huffed out a chuckle and Maddie sighed in frustration.

“You've been conscious for less than ten minutes and you're trying for a jailbreak,” Buck said.

“I'd like to keep you a few more hours just to be safe but I expect you can be home late this afternoon. For now, get some rest.”

As the doctor left, Buck leaned down and squeezed you in an awkward hug. “Thank you for calling me.”

You took a deep breath. The reality of what could have happened hitting hard. Hiccuping on a sob, you tried to contain your emotions. “Thanks for showing up.”

He kissed your forehead. ��Always.”

[apocalypseornaw]

Love You Better (Pt 4/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean finally sees what him pulling away has done to you.

Warnings: cursing, mention of sex?

A/N : next part is the finale and nothing but smut and fluff. Just FYI

You'd already talked to Sam and to Charlie, whatever was going on with Dean wasn't anything to do with the poison from the Djinn. With no other option you decided to call Jax.

You were in the library, your feet pulled under you in a chair as you talked to him on the phone. "Did anything else happen? He's still acting off and it's worrying me. If something happens to him...I don't know what I'd do Jax" "Nothing besides the Djinn, what's going on if you don't mind me asking?" You let out a breath unsure if you should be talking to your ex about your relationship problems. "He's just not acting like Dean should"

Jax as always seemed to know when to stop pushing because he simply said "Y/N, you love Dean don't you?" You closed your eyes because Dean didn't even know that yet and you didn't want to admit it to Jax. At your silence he chuckled "The way you look at him is your tell honey" you laughed lightly "Ok so you already know the answer to the question so why ask it?"

He tsk tsked then said "Easy killer. I'm just saying I've known you for years. You love Dean and from the way he looks at you he loves you. Do what you do best, dig your heels in and fight. Tell him how you feel and maybe then when your cards are out and on the table he'll let you in about whatever he's dealing with" you laughed more from shock of Jax saying something so deep than anything before asking "When did you get so smart" you could hear the grin in his voice before he said "Oh come on now we all have our moments"

He had to go after that because Alicia and Max got to his place so he had to help them. You sat staring at the phone, trying to form a gameplan on how to talk to Dean.

Dean stood under the hot water feeling it beat his sore muscles into submission. Every inch of his body was tense. He wasn't sleeping well and days weren't better. A flash of the sounds you made with Jax went through his mind but this time it was replaced by an image you under him instead. He could nearly feel your fingernails cutting into his shoulders, hear you moan his name.

What was he doing letting some Djinn dream come between you? Yeah he was worried that maybe you'd end up deciding you wanted more than him, that you'd tuck tail and run but he was also taking that choice away from you by not talking to you.

He may not have the business like Jax or the house or even halfway mental stability but he loved you. With every ounce of his being he fucking loved you. He'd fight heaven and hell to earn you another day living. He knew every inch of your body better than any other man you'd ever been with. He knew how to make you fall apart time and again, how to bring you higher than any other lover ever had. You were his dammit and if he lost you it wouldn't be because he hadn't tried to keep you.

--------------

Once he was dried he just slipped on boxers and sleep pants before going in search of you. Enough was enough he could concentrate on the real world, who's name you were really moaning and who you were really underneath. He could show you that he could love you better and he could prove it.

When he got to your shared bedroom he expected to find you waiting on him, maybe reading or listening to music but when he opened the door instead he found the room empty. Shit.

His heart dropped to his stomach. Where were you? You'd said you were going to bed. He knew your favorites rooms were the library, the TV room or the shooting range. Your gun was on the dresser and your favorite blanket was on the bed so that marked off the TV room or the shooting range. Library it was.

When he started to walk past the kitchen he saw the light was on so he stopped wondering if it was you or Sam then he heard a sound that shattered his heart, you sniffling. He eased to the door and found you sitting at the table, your favorite mug that had little black cats all over it in front of you.

You were staring blankly into the cup and apparently hadn't heard him come in. God, had he done this? Had he gotten so lost in his own head he hadn't realized what it was going to you? "Sweetheart?"

-------------

You'd been laying in bed, thinking about how to start the conversation with Dean but no matter how it went in your head that little voice always managed to interfere. The little voice that said "Lisa never made him doubt his feelings" "He's never had no problems fucking one night stands" "Dean's a man who knows what he wants and apparently that's not you"

When tears threatened to come you threw the blankets off and quickly left the room. Your feet found you in the kitchen in front of the cabinet that held the bourbon. You knew that wasn't a good idea so instead you went for some tea Alicia had sent you. It was supposed to help you calm down.

----------

You'd tried to fight off the what ifs the entire time you made the cup but once you sat down at the table they all came crashing down. This wasn't like you, you didn't cry easy but this distance with Dean? It was slowly ripping your heart out. You'd never felt about anyone the way you felt about Dean.

You saw tears hit the surface of the tea and hadn't even realized you were crying yet. You sniffled, trying to remain as quiet as possible in case Sam got up. You hadn't heard anyone in the hall so when Dean's voice hit your ears you jumped hard enough you nearly spilled the tea "Dean?"

----------

Dean walked over to the table, standing about a foot from you so you turned to look up at him "What's wrong Y/N?" You let out a watery laugh as more tears started to fall "You tell me Dean. What is wrong? I've tried now for two weeks to get you to talk to me, to kiss me, to touch me but I keep getting turned down. I love you and I don't even feel like that's enough"

His heart flipped hearing those words come from you. You loved him? Your eyes were cast downward refusing to meet his "I've never felt like this for someone Dean" he crossed the space between you kneeling in front of where you sat. He reached out to touch your face gently, tilting it up so you had to meet his eyes. He used his thumb to wipe the tears away "Y/N..." he trailed off at the look in your eyes. Every word he had was swallowed by the overwhelming urge to kiss you, to show you just how much he craved you, needed you.

---------

The moment his lips met yours you melted against him. A small sob escaped you and he swallowed it hungrily as your hands slid up around his neck, fingers tangling in the short hair there. One hand was at your neck holding your head in place while the other found your hip pulling you almost off the chair and into his lap, when you pulled away to catch your breath he moved to your neck kissing every inch of flesh his mouth could find "I love you" he spoke against your skin repeating it like a prayer.

You pulled back to look at him and god that look, he'd do anything you asked of him as long as you looked at him like that. "You do?" You asked and the uncertainty in your voice hurt him to his core. He nodded pulling you back into another kiss before saying "We'll talk later but for now please sweetheart let me make it up to you, let me show you just how much I want you. Please"

You couldn't help the whimper that escaped you. Dean Winchester was on his knees telling you that he loved you and begging you to let him show you just how much. "Take me to our room Dean" was all it took and he was pulling you to your feet, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that made your head swim and heat flood between your thighs. Fuck, you'd missed him.

@marimarvelfan @suckitands33 @sushiumex @janineb86 @nix-rose @ladysparkles78 @globetrotter28 @holdingontil-may @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378 @stillhere197 @cat-loves-music @marvelfanfn2187a113 @that1nerd-20 @foxyjwls007 @5tud10-54r4h @tas898

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

it's finally here! one month late, and a couple thousand words more than i thought it'd be! happy leap yeap!

Here's my entry for Lex's (@thefreakandthehair) Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge! I had dialogue prompt #22 "Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?”

pairing: steddie | word count: 10,446 | rated: E | on AO3: hey you really turn me on

Why in the hell did he agree to this? It’s 20 fuckin’ degrees out and he’s outside?? In the snow?? Voluntarily?

If the boys could see him now.. “Who are you and what’ve you done with Eddie?”, “Since when do you do shit outside?”, “All this for Steve fuckin’ Harrington…”.

And that’s the rub, it is because of Steve. Hopeless crush aside, Steve is the reason he’s there. Why they’re all there in the first place.

When Steve got the call, Eddie and the other older teens of their world-saving group were just hanging out; movies, beer, snacks, a little weed, music playing low…all in all, a great kick-back. 

Then the phone rang.

It was relatively late too, 10 maybe?

Steve went to answer it of course, the conversation muffled through the living room and kitchen walls, but after a minute or so he came back. The long phone line stretched across the hall back to the hook in the kitchen.

“When is this again?” Steve says into the receiver, waving towards the sound system. Robin had scrambled up immediately, nearly falling back on her face to turn the volume down.

“Uh huh. And you and Dad won’t be there? Mm hmm.” he nods.

Eddie looked over to Robin first, eyebrow raised. She only shrugged, as does Nancy when he turned the look to her.

“And how many rooms?” Whatever the answer is causes Steve’s brows to shoot up. “Wow, okay, yeah we–” 

Eddie was closest to him, previously starfished out on the carpet, but had sat up and leaned back on his palms when Steve returned, so he could just barely hear the sound of another voice on the other end of the line.

“Yeah of course, that’d be great, we definitely will. Thanks Mom.”

Steve had sounded actually…happy to be talking to his mom. And here Eddie thought the Harringtons were objectively the worst.

“No, they’re going to love it, Mom, I promise.” another pause, “Nope. They’ll all be on their best behavior.” Steve glances down at Eddie, “We all will be.”

He scoffs up at Steve from his spot on the floor. Rude.

Steve only waves him off with a smile, “Yeah, the usual.” he says, “Rob, Nance, Jon, Jon’s friend Argyle–yeah, he’s the one from California, and Eddie.” Steve’s eyes flash down to Eddie again and his stomach twists sharply. Aw fuck, here it comes; the scolding, the yelling, the berating about how Eddie’s no good for him to be associating with, why are you stooping to his level, he’s a murderer, yadda yadda yadda.

“Yeah, he and Wayne are doin’ much better now, I’ll have to tell you about it next time, okay?” 

Uh.

What?

“Yeah, that’d be great if you don’t mind! Yep, Wheeler, Henderson, Sinclair,” He looks again at the other people in the room, they’re still just as puzzled as he is. What do the kids have to do with this? “I’ll talk to Hopper and Joyce, and I’m sure Ms. Mayfield would let Max go. Oh absolutely,”

Steve starts back into the kitchen, and Eddie can hear him all the way back to the hook. “No–Nope, it’s fine, I actually have a couple people over right now so I want to–yeah. Yep. Okay, love you too. Bye mom.”

Eddie looks around at the others; Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, even Argyle, though he’s not looking around wide-eyed at what all just occurred like the others are.

Steve comes back into the living room. “So…” he lets out a long breath, “How do you all feel about skiing?”

-x-X-x-

So yeah. Here they all are, at some ski resort up in Michigan. Boyd Mountain…or Bowie? Something with a ‘B’.

Turns out, Steve’s parents had a four-room cabin rental set aside as a perk for some deal they were trying to barter. It fell through though, and they wouldn’t be back from Colorado themselves until after the reservation would’ve expired so they offered it to Steve and whoever he’d like to invite.

They took care of everything too; got lift passes, boot and ski rentals set aside for each of them, even sent a whole ass passenger van to be dropped off in the Harrington driveway for them to make the drive; A huge 15 passenger one that even with the three extra seats, still barely held all their crap for the long weekend.

All of them piled into the van in the dark on a Friday morning, sleepy-faced and crusty-eyed; Robin as Steve’s co-pilot, and each of the rest of the older teens and the party piling in wherever they could (they’d fight about their seats when they woke up more, Eddie was sure of it).

The first rest stop on the way up went by without incident, but by time they stopped for late breakfast/early lunch at another, everyone was stir crazy. Sandwiches were passed out, gas was gotten, bathroom breaks were taken, and almost as soon as they got back in the van, Robin was snoring.

“Damnit, if I knew she was gonna tank like that I would’ve had someone else sit up here.” Steve had groused. 

“I’ve gotcha big guy, I won’t let you fall asleep.” Eddie said, now seated next to Dustin and El on the first bench behind the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, me either.” Dustin agreed.

He was snoring an hour later, El leaning into him for her own nap.

“That’s cute.” Was the first thing Robin said after waking back up.

All in all, not a bad drive. The worst part was tramping through the snow to the cabin after they’d arrived.

“Goddammit Steve, How am I supposed to get through this week in only my jeans?”

Steve sighs, “Eddie, you have made the same argument ever since my mom called; and every time you did, I told you everything would be here for you.”

He finally gets the door open, shoving it wide for them all and gesturing them in, “Get comfy guys, I’m going to grab the cooler with our groceries.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Jonathan says, following Steve back out to the van.

The large open main floor has a full kitchen with a raised bar counter and four stools, tall peaked ceilings, a fireplace on one wall with two couches and a rocking chair situated around it, and a sliding glass door to a balcony off the back side of the building overlooking the trees below.

There’s stairs too, a set going up and a set going down, and at least one bathroom here on this floor, off the kitchen.

Eddie wanders into the living room, picks out some pieces of kindling from the bucket on the stone beside the fireplace and a couple logs from the stack nearby, and busies himself with starting the fire while the party pokes around the place.

He glances over his shoulder when he hears the fake leather of the couch cushions squeak together, only to see Argyle has perched himself on the backrest, squashing a cushion beneath his feet.

The fire takes less than no time at all, and once it’s going and he’s re-situated the trifold metal screen back in front of the fire, he sits down beside Argyle’s shins and is immediately entranced by the flames.

Steve and Jonathan return not long after, lugging their things with the cooler hanging between them.

“So how do y’guys want to split up the rooms?” Robin asks aloud, ignoring the yelling the other teens are already doing about the same thing.

“I’m not picky.” Eddie shrugs, standing up to stretch again, deciding he really did not want to be sitting anymore.

“Me either sister, whatever you decide is cool with me.” Argyle agrees. “What’re the rooms like?”

“There’s a master up here!” Max calls from above them, looming over the log railing at the top of the stairs with El.

“We walked right past it, but there’s a room with a queen off the front hall there,” Jonathan says, shuffling his bag against the kitchen bar.

“Hey! Assholes!” Steve yells down the steps, the boys must’ve gone down there. “Go get your shit out of the van and we’ll head over to the main lodge!”

The four thunder up the steps, how any of them can understand any other over the other is beyond him.

“Will,” Nancy calls as he rounds the stairs last, “There are bedrooms down there?”

“Yep!” he grins, “Two rooms with queen beds, and a bathroom.”

“I don’t mind taking one of the queens,” Nancy says, “Robin, wanna share with me?”

Robin starts to splutter, still somehow not convinced that Nancy’s got a thing for her. It’s obvious to him, but he and Steve have both tried to tell her this. To no avail. Even after Jonathan and her had confirmed they’d split and that he was moving back to California with Argyle come spring.

Steve rescues Robin from her spluttering. “It’s only fair that Argyle gets next dibs, since he’s the one that’s offered to cook for us.” he says, lugging the cooler over to the kitchen to unload it.

He’d insisted on picking up groceries for their stay, saying “There’s a restaurant, sure, but that’d get expensive quick and we’ll have a full kitchen so why not?”

“Appreciated my man; y’wanna bunk with me, Jonny?”

Eddie follows Steve, leaning on the bar across from the fridge from him, “So where’s all my snow gear, Stevie?” he asks the back of Steve’s head.

“Eddie, I swear to God.” Steve huffs in return, bending down into the cooler at his feet to fish out a couple of cartons of eggs.

Eddie does not watch how the denim of Steve’s jeans pulls tighter over any part of him, thank you very much.

“Mom called ahead and has everything we might need set aside in the main lodge, we’ll go there first before we hit the slopes.”

“Oh my god, did you really just say that?” Eddie asks as Steve stashes away two jars of jelly, one strawberry, one grape.

“Say what?” Bacon and some packs of lunch meat are next.

“Like, that’s an actual thing that people say? It’s not just in the movies?”

Steve sighs, finishing off the groceries with a couple 12 packs of pop stashed on the bottom shelf. “What is just like the movies?”

“‘Hit the slopes.’? Really?”

“You’re super annoying, you know that, right?” he says, closing the fridge and pushing the lid back onto their cooler.

“Awe, c’mon baby, you don’t mean that.” Eddie coos, slipping around the counter to cup Steve’s face in his hands, “What happened to the man who loves me for my antics, huh?”

“Get off me, dude,” Steve laughs, batting Eddie’s hands away, his cheeks tinged pink.

‘Yes! Success!’ When did he decide he was trying to fluster Steve? Eh, whatever. No harm, right?

 “So, did you guys figure out the sleeping situation?” Steve asks the rest of the group, walking back around the bar.

Eddie follows, leaning back on the counter in his previously vacated spot.

Nancy nods, “Jon and Argyle will take the room on the main floor, us girls will take the two downstairs, you can take the master, and the boys will take the couches.”

The boys return with their bags then, and Mike immediately starts complaining about being relegated to the fold-outs. Eddie also hears Dustin and Lucas trying to talk him down, saying things like “Dude, that means we’ll be close to the fire!”, “We can throw things in it!,” and “We can make s’mores!”.

Steve doesn’t seem to hear them though, otherwise he’d be shutting that shit down. Instead, his face only scrunches in confusion, “What about Eddie?”

Nancy looks surprised for a blink, then disgruntled, like she’s pissed she forgot someone.

“I’ll just crash out here on the floor with these losers, no worries.” he shrugs.

Steve turns toward his voice, a deep crease between his brows. “That’s not fair.”

“I promise I’ll survive Stevie,” Eddie chuckles. At least he’ll be the warmest out here in front of the fireplace. “I’ve slept on worse, believe it or not, I’ll be sleeping like a king compared to then.”

Steve’s brows scrunch almost all the way together, then spring apart and settle into determined lines. “You’ll sleep with me.” he says with a nod, his arms folding across his chest.

A beat passes.

Eddie can’t resist.

He leans close to Steve’s side, “A bit presumptuous, Stevie darling,”

Steve’s face practically glows with the flush that appears in the next beat, mumbling something to himself as he walks to the door and starts to pull on his coat and boots.

Eddie pushes off the counter and follows, obnoxiously holding a hand up to one ear. “What’s that, sweetheart?” he teases, walking to his own tossed-aside boots, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“We going to the lodge now?” he hears Lucas ask as he passes.

“Finally.” Mike adds, unhelpfully.

Steve huffs, standing up again and leaning close to Eddie’s cupped hand, “As if you hadn’t thought about it, darling.”

Four of the other ten are in their coats and boots and out the door after Steve before Eddie comes back online.

-x-X-x-

So here he is: outside. In the snow. With skis strapped to his feet. All because of Steve and his surprisingly generous parents.

He watches, amused, as Robin stands as still as she possibly can, arms spread wide, while Nancy helps strap her into her skis. As soon as the skis had gotten remotely close to being attached to her, it was discovered that no matter what section of ground they may be standing on, Robin would start to drift away. Sliding down some sort of unseen incline backwards, frontwards, and/or sideways.

Jon and Argyle are already almost to the closest lift, and Eddie watches as they do a weird half-jump onto the bench as it comes up behind them.

The gremlins had scattered after Steve’s ‘be careful’ lecture, telling them all when to be back to the van by, or back to the cabin if they will be coming off the slopes near there, telling them all to be safe and to keep to pairs or more so they can be radioed.

They’d all brought their walkies with them, and Eddie can see where the boys are still huddled together, swapping out their batteries.

He watches them split off soon after, Dustin and Lucas pushing off to where Max and El are waiting at the standing lift to the top of the training hill.

Mike and Will scoot off together in the opposite direction, toward the centermost lift a few dozen yards away.

“Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?” He says as Steve slides to a stop on his own skis beside him.

He’d meant it jokingly, was probably going to follow it up with some jabs about being Steve’s wingman if he needed (there were already a few ladies he’d seen giving Steve some looks while they waited for their gear in the main lodge), but Steve shrugs and says: “I’ll be your date this weekend, Eds. Wouldn’t want you to feel left out or anything.” 

Eddie whips his head around to look at him, “That’s not–” he starts, but cuts himself off at the look Steve is giving him. His goggles have been haphazardly pushed up his face, trapping a few loose locks of Steve’s hair between them and the roll of his beanie, his cheeks are already bitten red with the cold, and he’s smiling so painfully sincerely under that damn teasing smirk that all Eddie can do is acquiesce.

“You better be the best date here then, Stevie,” Eddie chides, starting off toward the lift Jonathan and Argyle had disappeared up, “I won’t settle for anyone other than the bes–” he pitches forward suddenly, one of his skis sticking to the snow under it more than it should’ve.

Steve catches him, of course, and says “Will I get points taken off as ‘Best Date Ever’ if I make you go on the training hill?”

They do go to the training hill, lovingly called the Bunny Hopper, but he and Robin are thankfully saved from the embarrassment of actually being taught by the volunteers there; Steve and Nancy taking them to the slightly taller ‘big kid’ hill and teaching them there.

Surprising even himself, Eddie picks up on the motions and the feeling of being on skis easily. The whole ‘pizza’ thing about stopping was still iffy but the rest is no problem. Fun, actually.

“That was great, man! You’re a natural!” Steve beams at him, his grin lopsided from the meat of his cheeks being squashed under his goggles.

“I just had a great teacher,” he brushes off the compliment, elbowing Steve playfully.

Steve somehow grins even bigger, and Eddie’s heart stammers.

“You ready to go to the real hill now?” “This isn’t a real hill?”

He’s positive Steve just rolled his eyes under his goggles. “C’mon smartass, let's get in line for the lift.”

Eddie bows him forward, “After you, sweetheart.” 

He follows Steve to the end of the line; thankfully it’s not too long, now that it’s late afternoon and will be getting dark soon. 

Steve seems to notice this as well, lifting his goggles off his face again. “We’ll have to call the gremlins back sooner than I thought. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Stop reading my mind, Stevie.”

Steve looks over at him, squinting hard and pursing his lips (Eddie’s stupid lizard brain has a split second thought of those lips pursed around something). “Ugh! Ew, gross Eddie, what would make you think about that?!”

He feels his face blanche and scrambles to recover. “I was only thinking about our good friend Robin, Steve-o, you saying Robin is gross?” He pitches his voice higher and glances down the line to where he can see Robin and Nancy.

Robin flips her mitten up at him, and he can infer the gesture just fine, thanks.

“Shut up, asshole.” Steve laughs, pushing him out of the line on his skis.

They’re the next to hop up on the moving bench, and Steve’s…everything…seems to seize up as soon as they’re seated and on their way.

“Could you imagine?”

“Hm?” He’s still looking down anxiously, so Eddie scoots just a bit closer, pressing what he hopes is comfortingly into Steve’s side.

“If we could read each other's minds? If the bats biting us both somehow linked us together?”

It works a little; Steve tears his eyes away from the ground as it drops away from them, huffing out a short laugh, “I don’t think I would survive inside your head, it’d be even more chaotic than you already are.”

“As if your head would be any better.”

“Hey, my head is great!”

Eddie grins wickedly, “You get told that a lot, Stevie?”

Steve seems unphased, smirking slowly. “I do, actually. Why? You tryin’ t’see if it’s true?”

His cheeks start to prickle, “You offering, big boy?”

“Maybe I am,” Steve shrugs then leans closer, “Now the real question is if you’re gonna take me up on it.”

Eddie’s head reels in the couple seconds he takes to respond.

Where in the hell is all this coming from? Is it just part of the ‘date’ thing? There’s no fuckin’ way Steve is actually into him, is there? He’s always been flirty, just like Eddie is himself, but there’s no way there are any actual feelings behind it… So there’s no harm in playing along.

“I’m gonna have to now, aren’t I?” he grins back, “Gotta see if it lives up to the hype.”

Steve smirks, his eyes hooded. He’s good at pretending, he’ll give him that.

His eyes glance away, then back to Eddie’s face. The sultry look he’d been hamming up for his sake is gone, just an easy smile remains. At least this sudden flirting Steve’s decided to do isn’t going to ruin their surprisingly solid post-apocalyptic friendship.

“It’s almost time to get off, ready?”

Eddie looks ahead to where the couple on the bench before them are hopping off. They stand up off the lift easily and don’t end up in a heap, but he is starting to feel the anxiety Steve was feeling only minutes ago. How’s he supposed to get out of the way fast enough, isn’t there a drop? That looked way too easy.

“As I’ll ever be,” he gulps.

“Give me your hand.” Steve says, not waiting for a response and snatching up Eddie’s hand in his, “Okay, when I say so, you just gotta stand up. Ready?”

“Stand up, what do you mea—” he feels his legs lift a bit as the ground rises to coast under his skis, and it makes sense.

“Now!”

Wait, no! He wasn’t ready!

He stands just a breath after Steve, but isn’t fast enough, the lift continues up on its path and catches him again, forcing his butt back into the seat.

“Eddie, you gotta–”

He tries again at the same time Steve pulls him forward and he pitches forward, landing with an “Oof–” on top of Steve and forcing the breath from the other man’s lungs.

“Aw fuck, sorry Stevie!” He rolls off of him and out of the path of the upcoming lift chairs. “That went exactly as well as I thought it would.”

Steve wheezes out a breathless laugh, standing back up on his skis with no problem at all. Wait, how did he do that? How’s he supposed to get up with these things on his feet?

“Here,” Steve arranges his skis for him, putting one long side of each onto the snow, “Give me your poles, and push yourself up with your hands. You want to get your feet under you.”

He does as he’s told and walks his weight around on his hands to the fronts of his skis until he’s bent forward at his hips, standing straight out of the bend.

“...Huh.”

“Good job, man!” Steve grins, handing him back his poles, “Getting up on skis can be a bitch and a half; way to catch on quick.”

Eddie grins mischievously, deciding to be a little shit. “I dunno, you’d think my date would like seeing me bent over for him, huh Stevie?”

Steve just rolls his eyes, snapping his goggles back down with a smile, “C’mon, asshole, let’s get out of the way; the run to the right of the lift looked shorter on the map.”

Thankfully, the chair behind them had been empty, but the next one had a full four people on it and it was coming up fast.

“‘Sides,” He says, pushing off toward the top of the run, waiting for Eddie to scoot in next to him at the crest before leaning in and murmuring low into his ear, “I’d rather wait ‘till we’re alone to bend you over properly.”

Steve’s a good 20 feet away by time Eddie comes back to himself enough to follow.

They get about an hour and a half in on the hills, a grand total of six wipeouts under Eddie’s belt, and a couple others under Steve’s, with one successful landing off one of the jumps on the main drag to finish off the day.

“Didja see that?!” Steve yells, pulling down the balaclava he’d unceremoniously added to his getup about an hour ago.

“Hell yes Stevie!” Eddie calls, breathless, still coasting to the bottom of the slope after him. “You landed it!”

“I landed it!” 

Steve holds his arms open as Eddie once again fails to slow himself down properly, and catches him at the bottom in a crushing hug. His cheeks are flushed with adrenaline, bitten with the cold, his eyes bright in the setting sun and smile nearly as beautiful.

Damn he’s pretty.

Courteous as ever, Steve waits until Eddie’s arranged his feet the right way again before letting him go to spin the pack off his back for their assigned walkie.

Steve radios the party, and everyone is packed away in their van a scant ten minutes later. The older teens had already made it back to the cabin, letting themselves in off a run near there, so it was only the similarly flushed and excitement-filled younger teens babbling away in the back seats.

There’s overlapping stories of their own wipeouts (including one Robin took that Max swears was hilarious), Dustin insisting he saw a brown bear through the trees at one point, and all six debating whether or not they’d want to go to the main lodge for the waterpark tomorrow instead of back onto the hills.

They are still debating amongst themselves when they pull into the driveway. “Alright dorks,” Steve calls over the bickering, “Go inside and hang up your shit next to the fireplace so it can dry out.”

Eddie follows the troop into the living room and watches them pile all their outerwear together on the two hooks closest to the stone fireplace, then tear off downstairs where he heard there may have been a Nintendo stashed in one of the bedroom dressers.

Jonathan and Robin start methodically re-arranging the coats and snow pants on the hooks so they’ll dry easier, while Argyle pushes up off one of the couches to start on dinner. 

“C’mon Eds, get comfy,” Steve says, coming up beside him and gesturing to the loveseat directly across from the roaring fire. Eddie can already feel the burn of it across his frigid skin, “I gotta make sure I get you unthawed before I get you into my bed.” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s ear.

And isn’t that a whole new type of torment. They will actually be sleeping in the same bed tonight…the next three nights!

Steve turns back to the kitchen when Eddie drops cross-legged onto the sofa, and the tingling feeling in his cheeks has nothing to do with the fire.

It’s half from Steve’s scarily earnest-sounding flirting, but also about half from the look Robin is giving him while she takes the spot next to Nancy on the other couch.

“What? What’s the look for?”

Robin shrugs, picking up what must’ve been her discarded book from the end table between them (which she’s got the already read half curled backward around its spine, like a heathen), “Nothin’ at all, Eds.”

His face is burning hotter than the fire by the time Steve returns.

He passes them each a mug of cocoa, then flops down on the floor in front of Eddie’s knees. 

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Eddie asks, surprised at the nonchalance he was able to muster up. He reaches forward and tugs on a lock of Steve’s hair without even thinking about it (and ignoring the muffled giggle coming from somewhere to Robin’s left. Oh great, Nancy’s in on his torment too?).

Steve lets out a contented hum, dropping his head back to lie heavily in Eddie’s lap, “Argyle’s whipping up some burgers.”

Eddie leaves his fingers in Steve’s hair, absentmindedly pulling them through a few tangles left behind by his hat.

Steve’s head lolls around in Eddie’s lap with the motions of his fingers for a whole thirty seconds before he snaps it back up, “Oh–ugh–wait, don’t do that,” Eddie pulls his hand away immediately, an apology on his tongue, but Steve continues, standing up and saying, “I’m all gross and sweaty, man, at least let me take a shower first. Be right back.” Steve grins, and heads upstairs to the master bedroom.

Eddie blinks into the space left behind by Steve’s departure, then Nancy is standing as well; “That’s a good idea,” she says, unfolding from her spot at Robin’s side and walking around the back of the couch, “I’ll be back up soon.” She gives Robin’s shoulder a squeeze, and heads downstairs.

Not a full five seconds pass before Robin says, “So...Steve’s super into you.”

Eddie balks at her, his eyes darting around the room automatically. Jon’s helping Argyle chop up toppings for their burgers, the two of them paying less than zero attention to him or Robin, there’s a yell from downstairs followed by laughter, the sound of a shower starting from the open balcony to the upstairs bedroom..

“You can’t just say shit like that, Birdie.” he whispers, his tone harried.

“What, the truth?”

“He is not into me.”

She nods in sarcastic understanding, “Ah, so you’re into him.”

“No I’m—” she levels him with a look. He sighs, glancing around at the no one around them, “Okay fine, yes, I am super into him. But he is not into me.”

Robin shrugs, going back to her book. “You don’t have to believe me, but I think he is. And I think you should make a move.”

“Make a mo—He’s straight as fuck, Robin!”

She gives him a glance, her brow furrowing for a split second then smoothing out. “Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to.” he says, sinking back against the cushions.

She doesn’t say anything else, and he goes back to staring at the fire.

“If you make a move on Steve, I’ll finally make a move on Nancy.” she says a handful of minutes later.

He processes that slowly, takes a deep breath, then shoves his hand towards her without looking over.

She takes it, giving it one hard shake.

As soon as he takes his hand back, Argyle lopes into view with a plate in his hand, “Food’s ready my dudes.” He says, sinking into the armchair closest to the glass balcony door.

Robin snaps her book shut and sets it down on the little end table between them (the cover curls back up immediately, the poor thing), standing up and heading into the kitchen. 

Eddie has just let his feet fall to the floor and has scooted to the edge of his seat to stand up himself, when Argyle yells out “Nice tits!”

“Whose tits are out?” Eddie asks, following his gaze automatically. 

Argyle goes back to his plate. “Steve’s.” 

Uh…Yeah…He can see that for himself now.

Steve is standing at the railing of the upper floor in nothing but a towel. One hand is flipping Argyle off, and the other is preoccupied with scrubbing a second towel over his damp hair.

The towel wrapped around him is slung low on his hips, and Eddie’s eyes start to roam on their own.

Steve’s stomach is solid yet soft-looking with all its faded pink scars, and it and his chest are still as hairy as Eddie remembers; strong shoulders, solid jaw, dusty lips that pull up into a smirk, all of him is so fucking perfect.

“Hurry it up, dingus, food’s ready!” Robin calls, startling Eddie out of his gawking.

His face goes hot with embarrassment, chancing another glance up to Steve and hoping he didn’t get caught…

Steve winks at him, then turns out of sight, disappearing just as his hand comes down to grab the towel twisted around him.

His face burns, and doesn’t stop burning until long after Steve returns from upstairs.

He makes up a burger for himself, and once each of them have theirs, they call the rest of the hoard upstairs. The six teens all but destroy the remaining burgers, two whole bags of chips, and would have gulped down at least one whole 12 pack of Coke if Nancy hadn’t relegated them to one can each.

Steve’s about to herd them back downstairs when El pipes up and says that they’ve decided they want to go to the waterpark in the main lodge tonight instead of tomorrow. Surprisingly, Steve agrees to drive them over there on the condition “you shitheads are careful, and are ready to go as soon as the pools close at midnight. Got it?”

“Agreed.” they say in unison, splitting off in all directions to grab their swim stuff.

“I’m surprised at you, Stevie, letting them go off on their own.”

He just shrugs, “There’s lifeguards.”

The troops are back in the living room within ten minutes, and in their boots and out the door in 12. 

Once they’re out the door, Robin goes back to her book, Jon and Argyle step out onto the balcony to smoke, and Eddie follows Nancy into the kitchen without even thinking about it, grabbing up the hand towel hanging from the oven door and placing himself to her right.

“Thanks,” she says, handing him the first wet plate from the mess of suds in the sink.

They work in silence for a few minutes, listening to the crackling of the fire, the clanging of silverware in the sink, the muffled voices of the two on the porch.

“Nancy?”

“Yeah, Eddie?”

“If I–If Ste–” he wasn’t sure how to ask this, how to even approach the topic, “Robin said—”

“He’d be lucky to have you Eddie, and you him.” She says, not looking up from the sink.

“How’d you–?”

“Robin tends to ramble when she's nervous, have you noticed?”

He stares down at her, dumbfounded. Her lips quirk into a smile. “She’s like that around me a lot, actually.”

“I’ve noticed.”

They fall back into silence again; on the last plate, she says, “Robin’s already had this conversation with Steve about me, so I only assume it’s fair that you have it with me about him.” She passes the last plate to him and pulls the drain from the water. 

“Just remember Eddie,” She pauses and turns to face him, one hip cocked over to lean on the edge of the counter. “If you’re gonna go for it..Steve loves with all of him at once. Don’t take it for granted.”

He sets the dried plate onto the rack beside the sink as she passes behind him, patting him on the shoulder as she does.

He wants to take a moment to process all that, but just his luck, Steve returns then, passing in behind him where Nancy just left to grab up a six-pack.

Steve hands one to Eddie as he leaves, “You okay, Eds?”

“I’m good, thanks Stevie.” he says, fixing his face into an easy smile.

The six of them lounge around the rest of the evening, slowly sipping on their drinks while they play cards in front of the fire, but there’s a catch: Eddie’s going absolutely insane.

Steve’s touching him everywhere. His thigh and foot are sitting comfortably under Eddie’s own thigh where it’s crossed above it, his arm is draped across the back of the couch behind Eddie’s shoulders and methodically twirling long lengths of dark hair between his fingers.

Eddie’s been doing his damndest to ignore it, and succeeds, actually, for short periods of time while they are playing Uno, but every time Steve leans back from dropping his next card on the coffee table, he casually puts his arm back where it was, and grabs up a new lock of Eddie’s hair to torture him with.

And each time he does, Robin gives him the same knowing look.

It’s. Agony.

He wants to relax, wants to scream, he wants to swing his leg over Steve’s lap and press him into the cushions with heated kisses, he wants to haul the other man upstairs and throw him onto the bed…be thrown onto the bed.

Finally, Nancy calls it, breaking their little bubble to stand into a long stretch around nine. Steve hops up off the couch after Robin to gather up all the rest of the cans, and Eddie helps Jon and Argyle pull apart the couches enough to fold out the beds for when the goblins come back.

He escapes upstairs after a short goodnight to the two, Robin and Steve are still bickering in hushed tones about something in the kitchen, and pulls out his bag. He’s fishing out a new pair of boxers when Steve finally gets upstairs, shutting the room’s double doors behind him and heading into the ensuite.

He left the door open in his wake, so Eddie grabs up the rest of his things and follows. He drops his pile of stuff onto the closed lid of the toilet and shucks his shirt unceremoniously, tossing it to the floor.

The glass door of the huge half-walled stone shower squeaks softly on its hinges when he opens it to start the water, squeaking again when it swings closed. He reaches up to a shelf above the toilet to pull down one of the provided towels, turning to hang it on the hook beside the shower.

It’s while he’s turning back to the hook that he chances a look at Steve.

Steve, frozen at the sink with his toothbrush hanging listlessly in the air and a glob of foamy toothpaste slowly drooping off his lip, is staring. 

Unabashedly.

At Eddie’s bare torso.

Eddie caught and cataloged this in the split second it took Steve to realize Eddie was staring back, but it was enough. 

The flirting had been one thing, a natural, goofy continuation of their friendship that led to their ‘date’ today, the soft touches and hair-playing had been another, something Eddie could explain away just as easily. Steve is a touchy guy once you get close to him, and had been with Eddie since they’d gotten closer after spring break.

But this?

He’s looking at him with the same wide-eyed look Eddie’d given him earlier: gobsmacked and slightly hungry.

Steve turns away quickly, spitting into the sink and mumbling something under his breath while he finishes rinsing out his mouth. 

Eddie snorts, shaking his head and finally hanging up his towel.

“Oh, what, now you’re gonna be all shy?” he grouses, twisting around to scowl at the back of Steve’s head. Steve looks over his shoulder to glare at him in return, his cheeks glowing red. “Really? The guy who was joking about bending me over only a couple hours ago? The same guy who was winking at me in nothing but a towel earlier?”

Steve flushes darker, and it irritates him to no end. “Honestly Steve?” Eddie starts, turning back to the shower and pretending to fix how his towel is hanging, “If you’re into me, just do something about it. Otherwise, just…back off, okay? I’m super into you but I can be a big boy about it because honestly, I’d rather keep you around as a friend if nothing else and—”

His rambling is cut off by the click of the bathroom door closing.

Eddie lets out a long breath, “Yeah.. that’s about what I expected.” Robin was wrong.

He takes a moment to collect himself, but just as he pops open the button on his jeans, Steve’s voice breaks through the sound of rushing water.

“Were you being serious?”

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie yelps, spinning around to face the man who’s still very much in the bathroom with him. “What the fuck, Steve?”

“Were you?” he asks, pushing off from where he’d been leaning back on the door.

“...About what?”

“About how you’re ‘super into’ me?” he grins.

Eddie crosses his arms across his chest defensively, “You don’t get to be an ass about it, Steve.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve says softly, reaching out to unfold Eddie’s arms. His fingers follow the length of them and grasp Eddie’s in his, “I wasn’t trying to be, promise; I’m just surprised is all.”

“Surprised?”

“Well yeah,” he shrugs, “The super hot metalhead you’ve been mooning after since March confesses he thinks you’re also super hot? That’s kinda hard to believe.”

He can feel Steve’s shirt brushing faintly against his stomach now. “I never said you were super hot.” he manages to say.

Steve catches his eyes, smirking at him with an obnoxious head tilt, “Didja have to?”

“Shut up..” Eddie snorts out a laugh and pushes lightly at Steve’s chest; he’s laughing too. “Okay, okay, now leave me alone so I can shower.” he says, pushing a bit harder this time. “I’ll be out soon and you can do with me what you wish.”

Steve’s leaning his weight against him, fighting going back to the bedroom, “Or…”

“Or?” Damn, he’s heavy what the fuck!

“I could, maybe, if you want..Icouldgetinwithyou.”

Eddie stops pushing.

Steve scratches at the back of his head in embarrassment, “I mean, I’ve been wanting to get you naked for months now and there’s a perfectly good reason right there, and I think it’d be nice to shower, y’know…together.. and wow, I am being super awkward, actually..so I’m just gonna…yeah.”

Steve gestures over his shoulder toward the bedroom but he doesn’t even move to turn before Eddie is pulling him back the other way.

He lets him go a couple steps away from the glass shower door, “Better get t’stripping big boy, can’t shower very well with clothes on, can you?” he winks, then faces away from Steve to finally shed his jeans (and for his own sanity).

Eddie can hear the split second it takes for Steve to start pulling off his clothes, taking another second for himself before pushing his jeans and boxers off his hips.

He had been trying to be in the shower under the spray before Steve was even out of his clothes, but one of his legs got caught, then he had to pause further to pull off the stubborn sock that decided not to come off with his jeans.

Which of course led to him nearly toppling over.

He caught himself on the wall, but not before Steve’s hands caught him around the waist too. “Careful, Eds.”

Oh fuck. Steve’s hands should not feel that good against his skin..also, dammit! He was trying to be all suave and cool by getting in under the water before Steve could see him fully, and now his bare fuckin’ ass is out for all to see…

Eddie laughs to himself.

“What?”

“Nothin’, I just thought I’d be…better? At this?”

“At what?”

“Stupid fuckin’—” Eddie finally gets his sock off, then sighs, “I dunno, being sexy, or mysterious I guess? Coy maybe?” 

“Why would you need to be any of that?”

Eddie shrugs, stepping out of Steve’s hold and into the shower and under the spray, staying faced away from the door while Steve follows.

“Are you gonna look at me?” he asks, voice devoid of anything but concern.

Taking a breath, Eddie steels himself and turns to face Steve in the large shower.

Steve’s expression is calm, open, but skews slightly into concern under Eddie’s gaze.

The long lean lines of his torso are just the same as the other two times he’s seen them, but they’re close now, and in good lighting too; Eddie can see a few other scars other than the ones from the bats, others he’s gotten over the years protecting the heard of goblins they’ve been co-parenting since last September.

He watches rogue droplets of water slough down the now-damp hairs on his arms, his legs, his chest, the ones that follow the path of darkening hairs down his stomach to his—

Steve steps closer, sharing the warm, wide spray of the shower with him.

He lifts his hand and brushes the damp hair back from the scar that marrs Eddie’s face and neck, stepping forward fully and cupping the puckered flesh in his palm when the hair settles wetly behind his shoulder

Eddie feels time stop for a brief moment. 

All of Steve is pressed into him and they line up perfectly, like they were made to share the same space. Steve’s other hand slides onto Eddie’s hip and it tugs him closer. Steve's half-hard length slots into place beside Eddie’s own, into the crevice where his crotch meets thigh.

Eddie shudders a breath at the feeling, opening his eyes to study the planes of Steve’s face and the way he is seemingly drooping forward into Eddie’s orbit. 

Steve’s smiling softly at him, the soft spray of water reflecting off their chests is misting up onto his cheek and lashes. His eyes are so much more green than he’d thought before, besides how little of the color he can see around the much larger pupil.

“Gorgeous.” Steve says, his voice is breathy and low, full of admiration, of longing…and it takes Eddie out of his reverie.

“Wha?” He says, eloquent as ever.

“You’re gorgeous, Eddie.”

Then, Steve’s lips are on his, tentative and sweet; soft, but becoming heady fast. 

The next time their lips meet, it’s punctuated with a short huff of air from Steve’s lungs when Eddie spins them, pressing Steve into the stone wall beside the shower knobs. He parts his lips to mumble out an apology, but Steve’s tongue decides to fill the space instead.

The hand Steve had on Eddie’s jaw snakes down to grab hold of his other hip and pulls him even closer, using the both of them to roll Eddie’s hips into his.

Their tongues slide languidly against the other, the fast pace they’d been building into falling off in exchange for slow, sanguine kisses instead.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath when they do part, blinking across the short distance between them at Steve’s kiss-bitten lips for only a second before letting his eyes fall shut with the exhale.

“Steve…is this—Is this real?”

Steve breathes out a shaky laugh of his own, “Why wouldn’t it be real, Eddie?” He asks, gently tracing the length of Eddie’s nose with his.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve had this exact dream before; are you sure I didn’t snap my neck during one of those falls earlier?”

The younger man laughs fully this time, and Eddie relishes in the slippery feeling of the wet skin of Steve’s stomach rippling against his own. He can’t help but grin in response to both the laughter and the funny feeling, his eyes opening without a second thought.

Steve looks like he’s floating, his face soft and dripping with a bright beaming smile..

“Do you need me to pinch you?” Steve asks, finally coming down from his brief fit of laughter.

“I don’t know if I want to find out this isn’t real.” Eddie grins in return.

One of Steve’s large hands leaves his hip then, snaking around to pinch the underside of Eddie’s asscheek.

He sucks in a short hiss of pain and lets out a soft whimper of something else (holy shit, when did that become a thing??) in the same breath.

“Okay…” he gulps down a mouthful of nothing, “Not a dream.”

“Not a dream..” Steve repeats. 

There’s a beat, two full breaths of more nothing before Steve spins them around and pushes Eddie back into the cold stone instead, his arm wrapped around him and up to cup the back of his skull protectively against the tile.

He presses a thick thigh between Eddie’s and does three things almost simultaneously.

The first, a second before the other two: He locks his heavy-lidded gaze on Eddie’s; two and three: presses the thigh between Eddie’s legs up, and pulls the hand at the back of his skull down along with a fistful of dark curls.

“Aahhh—ohhh fuck, Steve…” The sting from his scalp pulls a moan from his exposed throat, and Eddie scrambles to grab hold of something.

His nails dig into the slick skin of Steve’s back automatically, and he opens his mouth to apologize the same moment Steve latches onto his neck with a low groan of his own.

The hand not tangled in Eddie’s hair is starting to pull him down in waves against Steve’s thigh and hips, both of them hissing in pleasure with each pass of the other’s length against theirs.

“Mmmm, Eddie..” Steve moans, unlatching from the bruise he’s sure to have left on Eddie’s throat to lave his tongue and lips against his jaw instead. “Baby, you feel so good against me.”

“AAaahh—mmm..”

“Ooh, and you sound so sweet..” His lips trail down from his jaw back to the definitely sore spot on his neck, one that he prods lightly with the tip of his tongue before continuing on to nip at the taught skin of his collarbone, kiss lightly over the skin of his scarred pec, finally landing tongue first onto Eddie’s remaining nipple. 

The reaction to this is immediate; Eddie arches his chest further into Steve’s mouth. Steve, the sonofabitch he is, suctions his lips away from Eddie’s flushed skin in response.

“Hhnng—what the actual fuck, Steve?” Eddie glares best he can though the panting, “Get that mouth back over here.”

Miraculously, Steve obliges, sliding forward into a saccharine kiss and pulling Eddie away from

the wall and back under the spray of water.

“C’mon Eds, tilt your head back before the hot water runs out.”

Eddie just gapes at him, at his dick, both their dicks, still standing at attention, back up to his face.

Steve just purses his lips together as if holding back a grin and tugs Eddie’s head back by his hair again, soaking the strands through under the water.

He lets Steve turn him this way and that, reveling in the feeling of the other man’s hands in his hair, slick with soap on his skin, the gentle nudges and pulls relaxing him further into this weird world where Steve’s totally into him and also they’re naked in the shower together.

Finally, when Steve tilts his head back for the final time to rinse the conditioner out of his hair, Eddie decides to be a little shit, pushing his hips forward to clash their (still half-hard) dicks together.

“What are you—really? A sword fight?”

Eddie lets out a long cackle, “What? You knew what you were getting into with me, didn’t’cha Stevie?”

Doubt crashes into Eddie’s chest the instant the words escape his mouth.

He did, didn’t he? He likes him for his antics right? Oh fuck…How long would it take for Steve to get sick of his shit?

Despite Eddie’s near-crushing doubts, Steve smiles and says, “That I did.” easy as breathing, then pulls Eddie flush against him in another heated kiss.

Steve walks him backward after a moment, and Eddie drops his hands behind him to feel for the inevitable press of cold stone on his back, shuddering when it finally makes contact.

His gasp from the cold tile only seems to egg the other man on, hunching down to grip him around the backs of his thighs.

Eddie’s legs lock around Steve’s waist in panic, but pleasure shoots through him with the motion too, the horny thrill of being picked up so effortlessly along with the pressure of Steve’s stomach against the underside of his dick.

“Mmph—Steve holy shit,” he’s only just managed to thread the fingers on one hand into those sleek brown locks when he has to stifle down a long groan with a bite to his knuckle. “Hnngh–Steve, Steve, you gotta—oh fuck..”

The muscles of Steve’s stomach bunch under him as he grinds up in slow, torturous rolls..

“Oh, fuck—” the words spill out of his mouth, loud and long; his palm snaps up to hold them in as Steve pushes his shoulders into the tile behind him and leans back, leaving Eddie’s body balanced between strong thighs and shower wall.

The tile hits hard on the back of his skull when Steve wraps one of those hands of his around both their lengths. Eddie manages to look down, only to knock his head back again at the sight. 

Even with the added height of being on top of Steve’s thighs, their heads are exactly level, disappearing over and over again into the water-warmed skin of Steve’s fist.

Steve hunches forward again, pressing kisses into Eddie’s sternum. “Gorgeous.” 

“Steve...” he whispers in return, grinding as much as he can against the length slotted along his.

Again, too soon, Steve is pulling away, releasing his grip on them both.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, already moving to drop his legs back to the floor. 

Steve stops him, hoisting his legs back around him and lifting him off the wall. “I’m taking you up on your offer.” He says, twisting off the now-cold stream of water and carefully stepping over the lip of the doorway through the glass door.

“My offer?”

“You said that after your shower, you’d come back out here to the bedroom and I could have my way with you.”

A half whine, half moan curls out of Eddie’s throat to his utter embarrassment.

“D’ya like that idea, sweetheart?” Steve says, grinning mischievously. 

Eddie manages to scowl at him as they leave the steamy bathroom, and is dropped down onto the mattress soon after. 

“Aw shit!”

“What? What happened?”

It’s cold as shit, that’s what.” The air-cooled temperature of the covers against his skin has him breaking out in goosebumps.

Steve winces, “Sorry, I didn’t think about that.”

What was calm and collected confidence flickers off his face, and Eddie can’t have that. “Jus’ come over here and warm me up, big bo–wait,” He sits up and stops Steve when only one of his knees has made it onto the bed. “Lemme look at you.” 

He looks down at Steve, and yep. Big Boy is very accurate. He’d felt it against him already, Steve’s too-gorgeous-to-be-real dick; he’s longer for sure, cut and curved up like something out of a wet dream. 

“Oh, definitely big boy,” Eddie grins, looking up at Steve’s somewhat embarrassed expression.

“It’s nothing special.” he shrugs, his cheeks heating up as he climbs up Eddie’s damp body. He lowers himself down lay between his legs, his dick slotting itself beside Eddie’s once again.

He hunches over to kiss lightly up the scars on Eddie’s left side, lips brushing along the healed edge of the biggest one. It tickles, then it doesn’t, then does, then doesn’t, his lips pressing halfway onto skin and halfway onto puckered pink flesh.

“Steve..”

“Yeah baby?” he responds after a few more kisses.

“You’re giving me more goosebumps.” Eddie says, somewhat breathless.

Another kiss, “Mmmm.. You’re welcome.”

That shocks a laugh out of him, “You’re such a dork.”

Steve takes one of Eddie’s hands where it lays on the mattress, lacing their fingers together and pressing them back into the mattress beside his head.

“Says you.” he affirms, locking those ridiculous hazel eyes on his.

Eddie’s about to crack off another one liner, say something to…all that, but it’s completely erased from his mind when Steve ducks his head down to find his nipple again.

“Oh fuckin–nnng..” his hips buck up hard into Steve’s, who presses down into him in return.

He can feel it when Steve grins against his skin. “Shut up, asshole, that fee–ee–els so good.”

“Hmm, tell me about it, baby.” He’s grinding down slowly now, adding to the exponentially increasing Steve-addled brain fog he’s currently experiencing.

“Ahhh—I want to but–”

“But what?” Steve’s breath over the spit-slick spot on his chest sends a chill through him. 

“Oh fuck–If any of them hear us, we’re never going to hear the end of it.” he tries to warn around another stifled moan.

The Menace is undeterred, swirling his tongue around the little nub open-mouthed and hot once more before moving upwards, trailing his lips up Eddie’s breastbone until he’s sucking kisses into his throat once again. He continues up along the length of his neck until he reaches his ear, “Then you’d better keep it down, huh?”

Well that didn’t help. He lets out a long moan in response, clamping a hand over his mouth way too late.

“You sound so good though,” Steve says, continuing his slow grinding, “I can’t wait to get you alone so I can fuck you properly.”

That pulls another moan from behind Eddie’s palm. “Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie bucks his hips up as much as he can, but Steve's palms move down to hold him in place.

“Can’t have that now, can we?” Steve chides, trailing his lips down his stomach as he slides back to the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Wh–Why not?”

“Because I’d prefer,” a kiss above his belly button, “to choke,” a kiss below, “on my own accord.”, then swallows Eddie down in one go.

“Oh fffuuck—”

Steve hums in agreement around Eddie’s dick and the vibrations course up his spine to rattle around in his brain.

“Oh shit, Stevie, that feels so fuckin’ good.” He breathes, twisting his fingers into Steve’s hair.

In response, Steve starts to bob his head, swirling his tongue around Eddie’s on the upstroke, and sucking with fervor on the down.

“Steve, sweetheart–fuck–if you keep going I’m gonna—haah—”

“And what if I want you to?”

“And what if I want to to-together?”

Steve releases him with a wet pop, kissing his way back up to Eddie’s lips, humming in satisfaction when he reaches them, like kissing Eddie is the best part of all this.

And doesn’t that make his head spin.

“All you’d have to do is ask.”

Eddie pulls Steve back to his lips and bucks up into him again. “That’s me asking.”

Steve grins down at him and re-starts his slow, tortuous pace.

He’s rock hard against Eddie’s thigh, and this is getting fuckin’ ridiculous.

“Alright, you know what,” Eddie pushes his hips up hard and flips them over, straddling Steve’s thighs in no time at all.

“Holy shit—“ Steve blinks up at him in astonishment, like he’s surprised that he’s been flipped so easily.

 Eddie grinds down onto Steve, “You don’t get to tease me like that, big boy.”

“Is that so?” He chuckles, then groans when Eddie wraps his hand around their lengths. His hands grip onto Eddie’s thighs, squeezing tight to match the hold on them.

Eddie fucks forward into his fist, pulling his hand down to meet each thrust and watching as Steve’s head drops back onto the mattress.

He lets out a long groan. “Eddie…”

“Yeah, Stevie?”

Eddie runs his fingers over both their heads, adding to the slight slip of pre with a well aimed glob of spit that makes Steve hum out a short breathy moan as it makes contact with his head.

More noises of appreciation are pulled from the man under him as he rubs the pad of his thumb through the mess and under the head of Steve’s cock in small circles.

“Mmhm oh fuck..”

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm,” he nods dazedly “Keep moving though, feels so good, Eds.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, wrapping his palm around them again and pushes forward into his fist.

Steve’s head drops back onto the pillow beneath him, “Just like that Eddie, fuck.” 

He gives them a few more strokes, then Steve’s hands start to move; his warm palms skirt along the wiry hair on his legs, one traveling around to grab onto Eddie’s horribly non-existent ass, and the other comes up to his remaining nipple, pinching it between two digits.

That did it. The hot coil of pleasure already broiling in his stomach twists even tighter. “Ahh—Stevie..I’m so close, Jesus Christ…”

“Me too..”

“Yeah? Well c’mon sweetheart, give it to me.”

A scant two passes of his hand later, Steve shoots hot across his stomach, and Eddie follows a half stroke later. 

He sinks down to the bed against Steve’s heaving ribs, tucking his shoulder under the other man’s arm.

After a few more breaths, Steve pulls Eddie into him and presses his lips to Eddie’s still-damp forehead.

“Ew gross, don’t do that, I’m all sweaty.”

“Don't care.” Steve mumbles softly into his hairline.

In return, Eddie wipes his soiled hand off on Steve’s stomach.

“Ew! Gross!” Steve laughs, shoving Eddie away with no actual intent behind it.

A few minutes later, Steve breaks the comfortable silence. “So,”

The word sinks heavily into Eddie’s gut. “So?”

When Steve doesn’t continue, Eddie turns his head to find Steve gazing at him with soft eyes, and even softer smile.

It morphs into a teasing smirk. “Did it live up to the hype?”

—--

One snooze and another heated shower later, Eddie crawls back into their bed and gets comfy while he listens to Steve pull his clothes back on to go down to the main lodge for the hellions.

He hears a short shuf when Steve’s leg skirts around the end of the bed. “I’ll be back in 15,” he says, kissing the damp hairs on Eddie’s temple. “Go to sleep, Eds.”

“Hmmm…” he hums in return, cozy as ever, and is out as soon as the door clicks shut.

Too soon, the sounds of the shitheads scrambling into the house interrupts his dozing, the door to the bedroom squeaking open not long after.

“Eds? You awake?”

Instead of answering, Eddie simply opens his arms.

He listens to Steve strip off his clothes, beckoning the man forward again when he feels the end of the mattress sink under the other man’s weight. 

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’, hold your horses.”

“My horses have been patient enough.” Eddie grumbles as Steve finally shuffles between the sheets and into his waiting arms.

-x-X-x-

“Dude! What the hell happened to your neck?! Did you get attacked by a vampire?”

“Henderson, you are way too loud for how early it is.”

“It’s 10 am, Eddie.”

“Exactly.” the barstool creaks as he climbs onto it, gratefully accepting the plate of eggs and bacon Argyle passes him.

“Leave him alone, guys.” Steve says, coming up behind Eddie on his stool and kissing his cheek as he passes into the kitchen with his empty plate.

There’s three whole seconds of silence before the younger teens burst out into a cacophony of various outbursts.

“Aw, what? Eddie! Steve’s way too lame for you to be dating!”

“Steve, did you fuck my DM?!”

“I fuckin’ knew it. I told you they’d get together, didn’t I? Dustin, you owe me 10 bucks.”

“I don’t owe you shit, Maxine.”

“Holy shit, congrats guys.” Lucas is his new favorite… Will and El too, nodding along to Sinclair’s assessment.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough; All those heading back to the waterpark better be ready to go in T-minus three minutes otherwise I’m leavin’ without you.” Steve calls out over the noise.

The complaints follow him out of the kitchen and into the tiny laundry room off the entryway.

“Why don’t you guys get yelled at?” Eddie grumbles, poking up a forkful of egg.

Robin snorts a laugh, “Because none of us are sleeping with the babysitter.”

okay, some notes:

steve's mom is a lawyer in this canon and she's the one who paid for eddie's legal counsel/helped with clearing his name after s4

wha?? steve harrington has good parents?? insanity

"canon" hawkins is about an hour outside of indianapolis so i used shelbyville, indiana as my base and from there to boyne mountain is about a 7 hour drive. if they left at 6 am from hawkins, they'd get to the resort around 1 or 2 and have a good couple hours to ski before it gets dark again at 6 (daylight hours in the midwest during winter are a bitch.)

i did way too much research into the ski resort i based this at, only to realize that neither the cabin itself OR the waterpark were there in the 80s. so...let's all just pretend, okay?

the map above is a trail map of the resort from 1985

when i asked my husband what i should add to 'my most recent blorbos' he said 'nice tits!' so that's why that line lmao

who'da thought this'd go from skiing to shower sex? cause i didn't

i got stuck on the smut part of this for way too long and i am so glad i am a) done with it and b) that it actually turned out relatively coherent.

on that note though, i have been looking at this damn fic for so so long that i don't know if it's actually good or what. 'cause to me, it's complete garbled garbage

the title of this is from 'Object of My Desire' by Starpoint

lex i am so sorry this is late ilysm 🫶

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Hello! First I want to say I really like your fae story! The world building in it is insane and I'm so glad Buddie is finally together. Second, you don't have to answer but why have you been posting stuff with tommy? I don't understand why any Buddie shipper would like him, he's such a pos in the begins episodes...why write him with Buck? You don't have to answer, but there are lots of Buddie shippers switching sides and I don't see why.

Hiiiii.

So, first off thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying Come Away, and I hope the ending coming up satisfies :) Second, ngl, I did consider not answering that question cause I really don't like wading into fandom drama...but that was a super respectful ask and I DO quite like the character so...fuck it, we ball.

This is probably gonna be long and rambly but the TL;DR is I think the fact that Tommy Kinard IS introduced as a piece of shit makes for really interesting nuance to the character and also I'm a multishipper...just cause bacon and pineapple is my favorite pizza flavor doesn't mean I DON'T like pepperoni or have decided never to eat it again (also, I have less than 10k words of BuckTommy on AO3 and, like, almost 300k of Buddie, so I don't think I've switched sides, lol)

As for why I can like Tommy and specifically Tommy and Buck together despite the aforementioned POS'ness, sure I'll cop to part of it being I am just so damn excited for bi!Buck, I'd have been happy with just about anyone awakening that in him. But also because Tommy, to me, is a fucking interesting character and DOES make a lot of sense as someone that Hen and Chim could forgive and be friends with, and that could be good for Buck.

First off there are some things I think we have to acknowledge about Tommy that are factual or can be inferred as factual from the show. 1. For his timeline to make ANY sense, he can generously be in his late thirties to early forties. For it to make sense without him being some kind of prodigy in a couple areas, he has to be in his mid-to-late forties. 2. He was at LEAST partially raised by someone who reminds him uncomfortably of Gerrard, a CARTOONISHLY boorish, evil, bigot. 3. He was closeted for a very long time.

All of those factors together make for someone who honestly, it would have been nearly IMPOSSIBLE for them NOT to be a piece of shit, and a textbook example of how patriarchal systems, toxic masculinity, and white supremacy are also harmful to the people who benefit from them.

Let me preface this by saying I don't think the harm Tommy suffered was anywhere near as great as what Hen and Chim (or any person of color) go through. And, of course, Hen and Chim don't owe him shit. Forgiving him or not is entirely up to them and the right choice whatever they choose.

My point is, Tommy almost certainly grew up in an environment where his worst flaws and character traits were just...normal. I think a lot of people don't understand how much LARGER the world has gotten with the modern day internet, how much easier it is to be exposed to things outside your own bubble. I'm either right around Tommy's age or a little younger, depending on the estimate you use and guys...I just don't have words for how INSULAR my worldview was growing up compared to now. How much everyone around you, even in larger cities, tended to be Just Like You. You had to live in true sprawling metropolises to be exposed to the kind of diversity that we take for granted now. It is a terrible thing, but when everyone around you, everyone you look up to, everyone you love and care about, and who is supposed to love and care about you thinks the same thing, you don't tend to question it. You don't even notice it. My own loving, wonderful, give-you-the-shirt-off-her-back grandmother, who was educated af in a time women really weren't as a rule, and spent her life as a teacher was racist as FUCK. And the really insidious kind...the "I don't hate them, but why can't they just stay on their side of town?" kind, the passive-aggressive comments that only sting the people they're aimed at so no one thinks to defend the victim kind. It's the weirdest cognitive dissonance to know someone as kind, loving, and moral and ALSO realize that the kindness, love, and morality only included certain people. If my parents had not moved around so much, exposing me to different environments (or if they'd been a little less lenient with my internet access when it started exploding) I honestly can't say whether or not I would have ended up just like my grandma. I like to think I wouldn't have, but that's the point...it's a frog in slowly boiling water situation. I think we can all safely say a parent like Gerrard was not creating an environment in which it was safe or even possible to question the hate.

And from that homelife Tommy had to have gone straight into the military during the heights of DADT, wherein hiding your true self from everyone around you was the acceptable compromise to just straight up having your life ruined (if not completely ended).

Now. Does any of this EXCUSE Tommy being a pretty racist, sexist piece of shit in the begins episodes? No. But it is an EXPLANATION and a true-to-life example of how those systems that everyone has to operate in are harmful no matter what. At the time, given what was almost certainly his background, Tommy would almost certainly have to have been INCREDIBLY self-aware and self-actualized (and honestly, really, REALLY fucking brave) not to have been molded into...precisely what he is. A pretty racist, pretty sexist piece of shit who is throwing anyone and everyone he has to under the bus (consciously or not) to divert attention from his own deviation from the "norm".

Okay, HocusPocus, you might say, so this still begs the question why the hell you think Tommy deserves to even breathe the same air as your favorite blorbo.

And let me again preface by saying I acknowledge the show leaves a lot to inference here. As 911 is wont to do, extremely important character moments are handled "off-screen."

That being said, we do get to see Tommy acknowledging he was wrong about Hen and Chim and getting to a place of mutual respect, if not friendship (personally, I think the going away party when Tommy leaves the 118 shows they've made it to friendship...I don't care how much you respect someone, cake, balloons, and a surprise party are strictly friend things). When Chim calls Tommy to take them out to the cruise ship like...Tommy's risking his life AND his career there, if not outright jail time. Just on Chim and Hen's say-so. Again...that's FRIEND level actions, not just "I respect you as a colleague". We see, either right there on screen or through deleted scenes, that everyone around Buck trusts Tommy with him. When have we ever seen the 118 be shy about expressing their displeasure over one of Buck's LI's? If Hen and Chim still harbored resentment towards Tommy, and didn't truly believe he'd changed and was good enough for Buck, do we REALLY think that wouldn't have been expressed?

Are there valid criticisms of the character? Sure. I think a lot of it can be explained by the rushed nature of season 7 with such a large ensemble cast, but yeah, Tommy's not super developed and a LOT of the issues between him, Hen , and Chim are left to inference. That's fair.

But I think the show MEANS us to make those inferences, that Hen and Chim's actions and interactions with him show that Tommy has done the work to change, and they accept that he's changed and it also says a lot about them that they can forgive him and be friends with him (which, again, he is NOT owed and they would have been perfectly valid in denying him).

So, yeah. I like him. I think he's interesting and while Buddie remains my OTP, I am very interested to see where Tevan goes this coming season.

Also, Lou is fucking pretty ;)

[mdhwrites]

https://www.tumblr.com/everysongineverykey/709979889023008768/the-owl-house-was-really-like-oh-yeah-by-the-way-a?source=share

Thoughts on this post?

So my immediate thoughts were two things: One was that I always feel awkward responding to other posts because I try not to shit stir most of the time. Two though was that I just agreed with it. The reality of the Hexside kids is purely played for laughs despite being horribly traumatizing on pretty much every level. That's just true.

Then I saw the tag saying it wasn't a criticism.

So was it okay for Hexside to be treated like this? Wartwood had a similar rebellion and it had its own silly things like a themed food Friday and people still being their quirky selves. It works there however because while dealing with what life throws at you is a theme of the work, trauma specifically isn't really. It's there, I've talked about how smart Amphibia is with it to keep its tone consistent but that subtlety also makes it so that not dwelling on it is fine.

If I were to give TOH S3 a theme of some sort... It WOULD be trauma. I don't think it does this theme well, at all, but it is a consistent motif. Hunter's trauma about Belos, Luz's trauma about... Fucking everything if I'm frank but her core trauma is resolved at least once in each episode, technically twice in the finale. They graft on trauma out of nowhere for Willow. She's never dependable Willow, soft spoken and never complaining at all times, but now she is so she has some sort of trauma to deal with while also dealing with Hunter's new trauma of losing Flapjack. One could even argue that Belos has it running throughout because his desperation is potentially fueled by trauma of losing his brother and having his world shatter around him by his brother betraying what ostensibly would have been both of theirs core beliefs. You even have the Collector going through his shit with having been trapped alone for so long.

And then you have Hexside where no one cares about how traumatic all of this has been... Except Boscha. And Boscha is played subtlely, much closer to Amphibia, rather than the capital t TRAUMA that the rest of the cast is going through. As such, most people who watched didn't give a shit and just saw it as a half baked redemption arc rather than continuing a theme because yeah, why would you? What does she even have to say about trauma? That you'll get kicked even harder while you're down and the only option is to move on by yourself and just pretend like it didn't happen?

And that's honestly a problem with the theme in general. So much of the answer to "How do I deal with this," for TOH is to go "I'm awesome and amazing and fuck you for ever thinking otherwise!" It's the conclusion for Hunter's trauma with Belos, we don't get a conclusion with Flapjack really, it's the statement that Luz makes for her character finish of just how much she wants the entire world to recognize she's a bombass nerd -_-, and it's even how the series wraps up with only Luz getting the Titan's power and only her, while she quotes her favorite books, actually attacking Belos. This is your reminder that all the co-op attacks with King and Eda were done far away from Belos, fighting random slime for literally no reason besides the fact that both Luz and the show got lost for about a minute. Willow is the only one where compassion for needing to actually, you know, process your pain and be supported and helped with it might be the answer but again, it's not a core trauma to the character. It's a clumsily grafted on element that also has Willow force Hunter to confront his trauma with Flapjack which IS the answer for him so it's also contradictory. It's not given nearly the same weight as the stuff with Hunter and Belos or ALL OF LUZ where their answers are just 'deal with it'.

(Bonus points to Luz's core problem theoretically being that she was WRONG about Philip and at least two of the endings to that trauma, with her friends and with the Titan, are her being told "You're wrong for worrying," like that would help at all.)

So then you have Hexside where their trauma is ignore and played for laughs so you can just do normal fantasy rebellion stuff mixed with teen rebellion stuff. It's not bad when measured that way but it's contradictory to many of the points that the whole abridged season is trying to make. It's an element that conflicts with your core theme. It's akin to how we're supposed to take Hunter leaving the EC seriously and as this grand pain of his... And then also have people mocking Lilith for it and even having her go "I'm realizing I was bad at my job" back in S2 because fuck her and her trauma I guess.

And don't tell me it's because it's a kid's show. Boscha could have easily been the surrogate for all of Hexside and then you kick out Miki and just have Boscha to deal with. Focus the episode around getting her to open up, be defenseless, maybe almost get turned into a puppet for it as it seems her fears were justified... Before she looks up to find she's behind one of Matt's pillars and everyone is coming out to help protect Boscha. Because the only reason they've gotten through this is together and while they're happy Boscha has actually helped them despite her pain, she shouldn't be dealing with this alone. All of them will do better if they share this pain and so we get them kicking the ass of one of the Collector's hunter stars and the plan be to ride it up to the Archive for the main crew before they get snatched off of it. It has more to say about the complexities of trauma and how you can't just power through it, allows an acknowledgement of what this world has done to these people, all while still allowing the rest of Hexside besides Boscha to be silly and upbeat because they've been doing what they need to handle all of this.

So yeah, I think the blog itself is correct. I think calling itself not criticism though means ignoring what all of these conflicting elements mean for the season overall. Yeah, it's a cute segment as is but when you have a show like TOH that is trying SO HARD to say something... Shouldn't we be critical of when it's failing to do that or even muffling it's own voice?

Because the hex on this side of the Isles could have been used to do something more but instead was treated like a cute charm to fill time. That's not okay. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[xmorguekittyx]

Ever Locked

Part 2: On the Rocks

Part 1: New Beginnings?

pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy x Ex!Coroner’s Assistant Reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, talks of enjoying inflicting emotional and physical pain on another, getting off to crying, jerking off, crying, talks of imagining sex, male and female body parts

extras: this fic will also be slow and longer, we’re telling an entire story, i want it to be detailed with Reader and Leon as well as introducing Marina and Ryan. I hope you guys enjoy i have so so so many ideas and rough drafts already written. next part should be out Saturday! and i may write another and post it Sunday as im off both days <3

Glass, wet to the touch, my finger dragging across it to leave a small smear mark between the residue. The ice clinking to the side of the glass as the cup was lifted to my lips. That dark haired girl had said she'd be in soon. I could wait, I'd waited 7 years to see her again. I wasn't waiting any longer than I had to. The amber liquor burnt on its way down, the dribble sliding down my cheek, black leather sleeve coming up to wipe away the drop. She'd be here soon... just be patient, Leon. She's gonna be hesitant at first but... I was so loving to her. Those damn coffees and breakfast- was what we had not good enough for her?

  All those years, the day the world ended, so had mine. I lost her, part of me actually thought she'd died in the mess that was Raccoon City. September 29th, 1998. Now it sat, September 26th, 2004. 7 years since I've felt the warmth of her body, the softness of her hair... since hearing those beautiful moans and whimpers of pain. I needed her, those 7 years passed quickly. From meeting Ada, Claire and Sherry, to being pulled into the government and told that with my joining USSTRATCOM, Sherry Birkins would live a normal life, the choice truly wasn't mine. I wanted a life of a normal man. A wife to come home to, soft lips to kiss good night, preferably by now, age 28, I'd have a kid or two- preferably with the woman i set out to find once more, the shy coroner's assistant. Instead, I'm a DSO Agent, currently under MIA status, I knew I was in for it the moment anyone found me. My... habits have become a bit more... flavorless. The whiskey in front of me the 20th bottle I've probably had in the last month. Sliding from shit hole to shit hole, waiting until closer to the anniversary of the day she slipped from my fingers, to trap her once more.

 

  Of the two of us, i'm sure i've changed the most, my hair darker, a brown instead of that bright blonde i was so proud of. My beard had slightly grown out, no razor was worth leaving the bottle or whatever hotel i huddled up in. The shitty lighting of the bar didn't hide her though.  As soon as she walked in, I knew it was her. She hasn't truly changed, much, after so many years. Her hair was longer than before, her eyes more tired than I was use to seeing. What was causing her such restless nights? Did she miss me as much as I missed her? I knew the government has sent her off with some money and her car before they blew the town to hell and back, but that's all they'd tell me, not a where she went or even an answer to "how was she?".

   My eyes didn't leave her, specifically her chest as she chatted with the shorter girl. That shirt nearly had her everything on show, men staring down her shirt as they passed, catching a glimpse of the top of her breasts, before she disappeared behind the bar. The other girl looking down at the ground, where she crouched.

   It didn't take long for her to pop back up, cleaner and a dingy rag in her hands. She wiped idly at the empty bar, her eyes still lingering on the other girl. She was very chatty, she talked about how much him and her friend would be perfect... she was right. That woman was perfect for me, I didn't plan on leaving the weeping town without her. I drove my ass over three thousand miles to see the girl I dreamt of holding every night... dreamt of pounding the ever loving shit out of her. Wanted to see her swole with my child, I stayed up at night, wondering if our child would look like her... or me. Would they have my blue eyes and her hair? Her eyes and my hair? I hope they got her lips and eyebrows. My chin fell to my chest, a soft sigh falling from my lips, a smirk causing the corners to twitch. I wanted that life with her... but she ran. She could've waited for me, asked them to tell me where she'd be. Then again, i don't think anyone thought i'd survive those years in between, in training under Jack Krauser.

  My eyes flickered back to the bar, wanting to see her face once more, to study her in her new habitat. The first thing that caught my eye was a manicured finger pointing at me, that girl had a big mouth- a growl fell from my lips for a moment. She couldn't have just not told her? She had to give away his position and all? Then, my eyes scanned the woman next to her, ending at her eyes, the same smirk on my lips. God, I've missed her. The glasses between her fingers fell to the floor in a sharp crash, her body stepping back instantly. I couldn't help but laugh, my chest rocking as i thought about how careless she always had been. Something's never change, bunny... some things were destined to be- we were destined to be.

  We were. We always had been, a shy, careless bunny and her protective, dangerous wolf. Her figure ran, fast as she whipped out the Motorola Razr, pink... fitting for her. She must be making more money here than i thought. A five hundred dollar cell phone, she could afford that on a bar salary? I don't think so... there has to be more to her new life.

  My own Razr ringing as i assumed another call from Chris to ask me where i've been or if i was even alive. His call ending to raise the 27 missed calls to 28. Nothing was going to stop me from getting her, i wasn't as naive as before. I had grown, my training showing me gaps in my methods, the scumbags that hurt and caused damage showing me new ideas as well- but mine were for protection. Mine were for her, like i said all those years ago. I'd do anything for her, even putting up with her accusations and her eager willingness to be in danger. Even if she threw away my money like some other boy lusting after her attention. I was, am and will forever be, her soul mate. Her impression is laid into my heart and brain. Something i was never able to change, she deserved to be there. She was a religion. Something i had to have, an addiction, something to be looked at and adored, worshiped... something i was missing in my life away from Raccoon City.

  My cock ached thinking about those soft pitiful whines that fell from her lips, the moment her head hit my tile. The moans from her plump lips as she came undone on me, gushing that forbidden nectar all over my sheets, my name on her tongue like a shunned prayer. Someone she pleaded for, unknowingly calling out for the devil to catch her. Caught her, I did... until fate decided to be cruel. My fingers brushed over the growing ache from my pants, the slit of my cock pressed to the zipper as the my hips jerked up, brushing it against the angry tip.

My thoughts were broken by someone asking for the manifestation of religion. "Hey, Marina! Where is she?", a sharp pin prick stabbed at my spine, a quirk in my lips as i see the unsteady man. His hands on the bar as 'Marina' points to the back room. All i could see was a white dress shirt, and black slacks. He better not be fucking her- only i can touch something like her, something created for my pleasure and sight. Her teary eyes and drool collecting at the corner of her mouth. A jerk from my dick had my whiskey at the back of my mind, quickly jumping up to rush to the bathroom.

 

Stupid fucking bunny. My arm rested on the stall wall, elbow dug into the metal as my palm brushed the exposed skin. Shirt tail tucked between my teeth as my hand started to fist at the hardened flesh. I could hear soft cries- hers... the bathroom must be next to the employee room. Her cries were like a sirens call, precum smeared across the sensitive flesh as my hips snapped up with the pace i had set for myself. Imagining her, that pretty face under me, her eyes rolled up to watch as i pumped my shaft, staring at those beautiful eyes. Wouldn't waste my cum on her face, no matter how tempting. Would have her bouncing on my cock, her pussy walls clenching down on my cock, tip nudging against her cervix and bumping into her soft spot as i rocked my hips. A louder sob left her lips as i felt a jolt in my cock, pumping faster. She was just so pretty... those pretty clear tears causing her eyes to gloss over. Her mumbled and moans- "fuck..", my hand slows, feeling the twitching of my cum shoot out onto the rim of the toilet seat.

  "disgusting.", the realization of what i had just done hitting me, "jerking off to a sweet bunny crying in the men's bathroom?", a dry laugh falling from my lips. "yeah- some things don't change.", the memory of doing the same at RPD flashing to mind. I'd fucked myself to the sound of her laughter more than once. Those red lacy underwear hidden in my drawer, ready for the next time i needed a stabilizing moment. A sniff, a jerk off... anything.  The toilet paper was damn near falling apart as i wiped off the cum from the tip of my cock, a hiss leaving my lips. The sensitive skin, overworked by my palm. "Shit- use to be better about not getting so over worked.", an annoyed yet amused tone to my words.

  The slamming of the bathroom door caught my attention next, i felt like a damn dog outside for the first time, jumpy and slightly buzzed. My hand landed on the stall door, sliding it open to be faced with the same white shirt and black slacks. Black hair combed back and pale skin- she certainly tried to stay away from anything close to me, didn't she?

   The man washed his hands, a groan leaving his lips as he realized he didn't have any paper towels to dry his hands. "Got toilet paper, but the shit nearly falls apart on you.", i added, i wonder if she said anything to him yet. If he recognized my presence had been the one to distraught her so deeply. Her soft sobs could still be heard. "Yeah... i'll pass, thanks.", he side eyed me, brown eyes wide and weirded out. "Yeah, no problem.", my hands came up to wave him off. I wanted to know more, where was he from- what was he to her? Boyfriend, probably... but that just won't do. I had to keep her with me, she was my forbidden fruit. The future mother to my children, my bunny... my little play thing. The man started to turn to walk away, his hand resting on the door as he turned his head to take a final peek. "Have a good rest of your day.", the man spoke up. "Yeah, you too. Hey- I didn't catch your name.", I knew for a fact he knew now, his side eyes not passing my radar. I was trained in body language, he didn't want to take his eyes off me, he saw me as a threat. "I didn't throw it.", he dead panned, his look slightly more angered. "Right... right...", what was this guys name again? It popped up under the same address as hers.

   Ken? Ren? Rylan- Ryan! "Sorry...", my hands met under the water, washing away the sins that lingered on my skin. "Have a good rest of your night, Ryan.", i hummed, as casually as possible, my eyes catching his in the mirror. "I caught it.", i quickly add, maybe giving him any insight that i knew anything was stupid, but i didn't care. "Yeah... you too, Leon.", a chuckle left my lips, maybe she hadn't picked someone too different as the annoyance and anger clung to his words. A smirk fell on my lips, becoming more familiar to my features the more i stayed in this busy town. I didn't reply, just watching as he walked out, thinking he had the upper hand. He doesn't, he won't- bunny was mine, I owned her. I had staked my claim 7 years ago on that girl and I'd be damned if I lost it now.

  Ryan... I'll have to look that up later. Keeping all my tabs on the new life she built for herself. I was more careful this go around, despite the ache that quickly came back to my groin from the power exchange...!i would wait, plan... figure out how and when to take her back to the house i built. A family home, build from the foundation up on quite a few acres, stuck in the middle of a very small town. This will be our home, sweet bunny... we'll have a family, somewhere where it's just us. I'm tired of fighting for everyone else to have their happy endings, for them to get to shine while i suffer... This time, i'll be selfish, i'll get what i want and i won't allow my broken bird to fly, my little bunny to hop. Instead, she'll be mine, changed and tamed... kept away from the unsafe world, kept private and secret from nearly anyone. If only i could get rid of the suspicion of the man and the fear she held on me. I just wanted a life, i'd get it. One way or another, i was getting my family home and filling it with little Kennedy's.

[novankenn]

Son of the Serpent (9)

/==/ Table of Contents /==/

Jaune sat on his bed, still in his nightclothes, actually laughing as he played with the Vacuo Death Viper without a care in the world. Which of course made his team very apprehensive. Each one waiting for the moment when the vile creature would attack their team leader.

"Guts, there is nothing to worry about."

"Says you." Nora responded, a desk chair clasped in her hands, ready to be used as a makeshift hammer.

"Jaune could you please?" Pyrrha whimpered. The invincible girl not being a fan of snakes, or for that matter spiders, rats or mice.

"You want to hold her?" Jaune asked, a warm smile on his lips as he held the deadly creature out towards his friends.

"I'll pass." Ren replied, "You said your mother is here? I take it because of the... snake?"

"Yes. This one is usually perched about her neck. It was her first tattoo, much like how the Valean Pit-Viper tattoo about my neck and shoulders was mine."

To accentuate the point, Jaune smiled and suddenly from around the collar of his t-shirt the scaled head of another serpent appeared. It slithered out from under his shirt and coiled about his shoulders, even going so far as to affectionately nuzzle Jaune's cheek.

The Death Viper, not to be out done, scaled Jaune's extended arms, and faced off against the Pit-Viper. The pair of serpents rose, their eyes starting at each other. Their forked tongues flicking in and out of their mouths, tasting the air.

Ren, Nora, and Pyrrha gasped and froze as the pair of venomous snakes both opened their mouths, exposing gleaming fangs.

"Are you guys tired?" Jaune asked as the pair of snakes, "That was a couple of big yawns there."

"Yawns?" his trio of teammates asked, utterly stunned, as Jaune lifted both serpents casually from around his neck and laid them on the bed.

The Pit-Viper coiled tightly upon itself, with the slightly larger Death Viper coiling around it, ending by laying its head over the neck of the smaller... if his friends didn't know better... it looked almost as if the pair of vile beasts were cuddling.

But before anyone could make a comment, there was a series of knocks upon the door. The slightly unnerved trio of Jaune's teammates stepped away from the door, just enough for Pyrrha to answer it.

“Oh, Professor Goodwitch, and?” Pyrrha eyed the woman standing next to the Deputy Headmistress. She had an air of authority much like Goodwitch had, but unlike the Professor’s aura... this woman’s was more sinister.

“Mom.” Jaune greeted the woman, who eyed up Pyrrha for a moment before stepping past and into the room… uninvited.

“Jaune.”

“Mom?” Nora asked, looking at Ren, “I thought she’d be blond?”

“So did I.” Pyrrha added.

“Well, Mrs Arc I have escorted you to your son, I shall take my…”

“I require access to a room with a sparing circle.” Benisato commented out loud. “Is there such a place available?”

“Mom?”

“Jaune, you ran from home. Your sisters were in tears. Your father was a nervous wreck…”

“You don’t und…”

SMACK!

“Do NOT tell me I don’t understand! Your father and I did not suffer all that horror in the frontier so you could be a stupid little shit and go and get yourself killed because you wanted to be a HERO!” Benisato screamed at the top of her lungs, tears forming in her eyes. “We thought we lost you! No calls, no messages! We thought you died!”

“But…”

“There is no BUT Jaune!” she continued to scream at her son, all the frustration, fear, and anger of the last several months bursting forth. “Your stupidity nearly tore your family apart!”

“I’m sorry…” Jaune responded, still holding the cheek his mother had struck with the palm of her hand. 

“Don’t…” Benisato grabbed out and hauled her taller son into a tight, almost crushing embrace. “Don't ever scare me like that again… you’re too precious to me.”

[idontplaytrack]

Janis shows up drunk at Regina (or reader, depending on what you want ig) and she is just a really dumb drunk, and Regina takes care of her, pretending to be annoyed but finds her to be weirdly endearing and cuddly 🫶😭

It’s You That I’m Missing

Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George

Warnings: drinking, angst & fluff, coarse language

They no longer hate each other. But it still gives Regina a shock of her life that Janis shows up at her door, drunk off her ass

Regina was sat before her vanity, doing her nightly skincare routine when she heard a string of obnoxiously loud knocks come from the foyer. She contemplated ignoring it, obviously not expecting anyone to be over at her place, at this hour of the night no less. It was nearly eleven.

The same string of knocks were heard again, followed by a, “Hello?”

Regina’s ears perked up as she sat up straight, squinting. Quickly, she stood up and peeked out the window. What on earth? She hurries downstairs to let the girl in. “Oh. Good, you’re home.” She laughs, evidently drunk.

“What are you doing here, Janis? Why are you alone?”

“I’m always alone.” Janis laughs again, dryly.

Regina squints, telling her to sit down. Janis plops down on the couch. “Where’s Damian?”

“He has the flu.” Janis answered airily, finger wagging around. Regina hesitated, but sat down anyway. “And where the hell did you go?” Regina says but quickly bites the inside of her cheek. “Nowhere. I drank—” Janis inhales sharply, “At home, then I came allll the way here.”

Regina asks, “Why?”

“I…I don’t know, Gina.” Janis sighs, throwing her head back against the headrest.

‘Shit’ Regina thought, ‘That nickname. I haven’t heard that in years.’

“I know we don’t hate each other anymore, but why did you just show up here like that? The girls don’t even do that.”

Janis groans, facepalming, “I don’t know. I don’t know…why I decided to come here. I was bored— then your address was somehow the only one I remembered.”

“What? Come on, you don’t have to lie.”

“Lie, for what?” Janis looks at her right in the eye, “You know what I don’t get? That I can’t seem to forget you calling me that fucking name in middle school for months. You knew it was wrong, and yet you did it. That is so fucked up— being a kid was no reason for you to do it.”

“Janis…I’m sorry.” Regina apologizes. She wasn’t even shocked.

“Yeah, it won’t cut it. It’ll always stick with me and it sucks because I have someone who loves me now and I love her. So damn much, but it still haunts me.”

That, shocked Regina. Regina didn’t know that Janis had been dating someone. You.

“You meant the world to me and you just became my biggest bully overnight.” Janis laughs at the end— a little thing she had when drunk. “But whatever right? Let bygones be bygones? Everybody loves you now, but yet people like me, like my girlfriend have to be so careful about where we go because some people hate people like us. “Janis, you don’t have to forgive me. But if there’s anyway I can make it up to you, please. Tell me.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” Janis answered bluntly, “I honestly don’t know why I came here…thinking things could somehow be different. But the truth is? Things will never be the same anymore. They haven’t been since the second you called me that name— along with everybody else.”

Regina was stunned into silence. She also recognised this behaviour of Janis’. How she’d avoid crying by laughing it off. “Me coming here was a mistake. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. I have y/n now.”

“Where is she?”

“That’s all you have to ask me?” Janis bites back a scoff.

“Why isn’t she taking care of you? You’re wandering the streets alone.”

“She couldn’t come over to my house. Her parents were arguing and she couldn’t leave.” Janis blinks profusely, “I should— I should probably go.”

Janis tries to stand up but Regina stops her. “No, stay here for a bit. Until you sober up.”

“Okay.” Janis pouts, snuggling up in a corner of the couch. Regina couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, her heart melting. “Do you feel like you might throw up?”

“What?”

“Are you nauseous?” The blonde asks again.

“Ohh, yeah.” Janis realises.

“Alright, up we go.” Regina focused on getting her back on her feet and to the bathroom down the hall. They sit in silence for awhile. Until Janis threw up a bit. “My God, how much did you have to drink?”

“I…lost count.” Janis says, eyes drooping shut, “After three.” She holds up her three fingers in front of Regina’s face but she could barely hold her own head up.

‘Damn it.’ Regina sighs internally.

“I wanna sleeeeep.” Janis whines.

“Okay.” Regina helps her up and into her own bedroom. “Sleep.”

“In your bed?”

“Well, would you rather be on the floor?” Regina snarked unintentionally, catching herself too late, “What if you feel sick again and need to get up?”

“If you want me to sleep in the bed, I’ll sleep in the bed.” Janis didn’t put up too much of a fight anyway.

“Good.” Regina says flatly, “Just sleep.” Once Janis crawls under the covers, Regina does the same beside her, contemplating putting a bolster between them but Janis kept her distance and faced away already so she just allowed herself to start drifting off.

“Good night, Janis.”

“Night, Regina.” Janis murmured.

————

“Oh, God. I showed up at your door out of nowhere and you just let me sleepover?”

“Because it was late and you were drunk off your ass.” Regina reasoned, “Sit down and eat your breakfast.”

“Aw, you made me breakfast?” She teases.

“I can throw it away if you don’t want it.” Regina plays along.

“Didn’t say that.” Janis sulked and sat down at the table, “Thanks.”

What Janis told her last night wasn’t forgotten but she wasn’t going to bring it up again. Janis was now back to her usual self— she didn’t want to upset her again. All Regina could do from now on was to focus on being a better person and not hurt someone else again.

“Last night, you told me you were dating y/n. I didn’t ask, you just…told me. And if you didn’t want anyone to know—”

“Ah, it wasn’t like we were hiding it anyway. We just don’t really…do PDA.”

Regina nods, “How’s your head?”

“Feels like it could explode.” Janis jokes, shoving a forkful of pancakes into her mouth. “Take an Advil before you go. Do you want a ride?”

“Nope, thanks.”

“Do you need a ride?”

Janis glares at her, exhaling, “No. I’m gonna walk over to y/n’s after this.”

“Oh? She lives nearby?”

“Yes, she does, Regina.” Janis smirked, “I’m surprised you even knew who I was talking about.”

“I know people outside of my own circle, Janis.” Regina replies, feigning offence.

“Not that.” Janis stifles a laugh, “It’s just that she’s more of an introvert. She doesn’t really talk to that many people often. Obviously, you two haven’t talked.”

This was the most time the ex-best friends have spent together since middle school. It was bittersweet— Janis missed her best friend, someone who was hers, someone who she thought she could spend the rest of her life with. But what did little Janis know? Nothing much. Now older, she knew better than that. Some stuff’s just gotta hurt until it doesn’t anymore.

Regina misses her too, but knew after last night that she was definitely never getting that friendship back ever again. Life had to go on. But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t be on good terms now. Acquaintances.

After breakfast, Janis departs. “I’ll see you around, Janis.” Regina brings her to the foyer. “Yep.” Janis nodded, giving the girl a crooked smile, “Thanks for uh, watching out for me last night and breakfast.”

“You’re welcome.” Regina flashes her a similar smile. Regina hesitates, but Janis was engulfed in a hug eventually. After an initial shock, Janis hugs her back. “See you, Jay.”

“See you, Gina.”

With that, Regina watches the brunette leave before shutting the front door and continuing with her day. Her heart ached, but she also felt knowing that she had some sort of closure from the monstrosity of a situation back in middle school— she had a crystal clear understanding of where Janis stood regarding the situation and where she herself stood in Janis’ world. Nowhere like before, but now better than it has been for years.

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@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

💭A/N: Can’t sleep, but at least something came out of it lol😓