#It doesn't always work. Some days it takes much longer for Jean to remember and after talking in detail about Marco

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmate AU in which you can no longer remember your soulmate after some time spent apart. Is like their memory, their whole existence, gets buried away if you're not around each other. It doesn't get erased or anything, but it takes some time for the brain to remember even with outside help and it doesn't last for long. Also the memories return back once the soulmates are near each other once again like nothing truly happened.

That's nothing easy to take notice of during their training, everyone around everybody daily. Is just when they finally graduate and go on their own path that things change. When Jean's doing chores with the others and Connie mentions this guy Marco and how he used to help him clean the kitchen despite not being his chore.

Just... You know, Jean asking who are they talking about because there was no Marco in their training squad. The way Connie brushes it out like a joke and calls Jean a little jerk for saying that about Marco. The pure confusion on Jean's face, him getting all defensive because there's no Marco. Everyone slowly realizing what's going on and trying to make Jean remember by bringing up memories of Marco- of all the times the two would pair for chores, the amount of times Marco has to restrain Jean so he wouldn't get in some fight (usually with Eren), how the two were inseparable during the years. Them both talking about joining the MP. Them sharing a bunk bed and going in different beds to sleep just for everybody to find them cuddling in the morning. All the little things they took notice of during the years about Jean and Marco.

The moment Jean truly remember is pure agony. His eyes widening sightly, hands shaking- it takes him all the power to stay up because he finally remembers Marco. Not only the sick realization of Marco being his soulmate, but the amount of pain at the realization that he's bound to forget about his best friend. The suffering, now that he realizes he doesn't even remember how Marco looked like. The helpless of the whole situation.

[hauntedwitch04]

Neighbor

Steve Harrington x reader

Words: about 0.8k words

Warnings: smut, possessive!Steve, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 13: Caught masturbation

-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Steve Harrington and you have been neighbors since you were born. When you were younger you spent hours and hours playing in the backyard, and when your parents forced you into the house, you kept playing in your rooms, since your windows were in front of each other. You used to spend hours looking out, imagining adventures and exploits of the older heroes, playing at being big, not knowing that after all, you grow up too fast.

You and Steve remained very good friends until high school, when he decided that you were not popular enough to be seen with him and that he needed to find new, "cooler" friends to really be somebody. This of course had made you feel very bad, but fortunately you had met other people, better than King Steve, who had become your friends, like Robyn, a skinny blond girl who played in the school band and was a real genius as well as being a very good friend. You and Steve didn't even say hello to each other anymore when you walked past each other to go to your rooms Those windows that used to be portals into each other's world were now nothing more than what they really are: cold pieces of glass, allowing each other to peek into the other person's life hoping it would be worse than their own.

Everything had remained that way until this evening.

Steve recently returned from yet another party; he doesn't even know how he managed to get home to tell the truth, since he doesn't even remember getting into the car.

The boy is lying on the bed, still looking at the ceiling and wondering how many drinks he has had, when he realizes that your bedroom window is open, which is not so strange since it is the middle of summer and the muggy heat is unbearable at night, but usually the curtain was always drawn so that no one could see your little piece of heaven.

Steve, confused by alcohol does not realize what he is doing, and so in the dark, he sits on the bed and starts looking at you, trying to figure out what you were doing.

Your room has not changed that much since you were children, but some posters and books now adorn those walls that little you had so insisted on, being your favorite color. The desk is covered with open school books and notes, while on the floor was a pile of clothes, probably dirty, among which Steve could make out some clothing you had worn in the past few days.

The boy's eyes roam all over the room, trying to absorb the details of your life, looking and hoping to recognize deep down the little girl he was in love with as a child. All until he sees you.

You're lying in bed, in semi-darkness, but somehow Steve can see you, wearing a simple tank top and a pair of summer shorts, hoping to fight the heat; but it's not how you're dressed that shocks the boy, but what you're doing.

Your eyes are closed, while your head is resting on the pillow. Your right hand squeezes your right breast, since you are not wearing a bra, from above your shirt, while your left hand is in your shorts. Your mouth is ajar as you let muted moans slip from your lips as you chase your pleasure.

Steve freezes for a second looking at you knowing it is wrong what he is doing, yet he cannot shake his eyes off you. He feels his erection growing in his pants, to the point that it hurts so much that he can no longer avoid touching himself, first from above the fabric, then in desperation, he unzips the zipper of the jeans he is wearing and pulls out his member, beginning to lightly massage it. All this without ever taking his eyes off you, as if you were a magnet.

She watches as your fingers continue to circle your most sensitive spot, faster and faster and hungrier. Your breathing becomes labored and uneven, until a few minutes later you reach orgasm. Slowly your fingers stop moving, and you try to catch your breath. Your eyes are still closed and you can't see in the house in front of you, your neighbor masturbating at the sight of you climax.

Steve also comes to orgasm, a couple of minutes after you do, thus making time to hide well in the shadows, when you open your eyes, looking around as if you have the feeling you are being watched. He watches you settle down for a moment, before getting up to go to the bathroom, and at that moment Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High School, decides something.

The next orgasm you have will be at his hands.

TAGLIST

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[vitaminseetarot]

PAC Pick a Song - What About You Currently Shines Brightest?

Sup y'all, I'm back in time for the start of Leo season with another pick a card reading! The full moon is coming right up and I will likely do a reading for that as well very shortly, but I already had this done the other day and wanted to get it finally posted after much delay!

Below here are three cards to choose from belonging to the now-obsolete board game DropMix. It was a game connected to an app now unfortunately no longer in service, but it allowed the game to play by having chips in the cards activate a code that would send to a phone app to tally points as well as play music. You could pile the different cards together on a jockey board based on color and basically create your own remixes. You could play or make freestyle music. My basic pack has as many cards as the minor arcana + 4, so I thought these would be fun to bring out and work with for the partygoing Leo energy that's budding this late summer.

1, 2, 3

Pile 1. The Weeknd - Can't Feel My Face

Cards: Baroness (Fire, Leo); "I am in touch with my purpose and passion in life"; 7 of Swords, XIX Sun, XVIII Moon

(Okay just a quick note I just gotta let u know that I eventually plan to paint over the Sun card for my only RWS-esque deck because the smiley face creeps me out lol so I put a tiny candle over its haunting face. The Sun is supposed to be a positive card dangit!)

Anyway back to your reading! Right off the bat I feel like you're gonna be shining bright this season no matter how you personally feel about summer, get in the mood and live it up! Light that bonfire. Jump in the pile of autumn leaves. Tap into your senses in the most innocent and playful way. I feel like you shine brightly when you get excited about literally anything in your life, it could be a new brand of coffee or new pair of jeans or something but people like how you react to things. Reminds me of Youtubers who have these funny but authentic personalities as they review random products or whatever.

I feel like you can get so in love with something that you kinda, as the song suggests, "go numb" and let everything else fizzle away from your focus. But the thing to remember is that all those other things are still there even if they don't light you up. It's all about learning to find the sweet spot between really enjoying the moment and being in flow with the best of things while also attending to the gritty details. It doesn't mean you should "go numb" in the other direction by only focusing on practical things. When I see Sun and Moon in the same three card reading I am reminded of Temperance because you're trying to balance two different energies together that are ultimately meant to work together. Manifestation+work, joy+catharsis, reason+instinct, yeah? It's a lot to seesaw back and forth every day but 7 of swords tells me that you find ingenious ways to pull it off. Don't let the shyness snuff the light out, and don't let the egoic sense of duty override your needs.

If you feel like sometimes you have to sneak away to find time to enjoy what makes you shine from the inside, I'm getting guidance for the collective to simply learn how to share a little bit of what you're doing while balancing it with the part of you that wants to protect your creative ideas and work on them. Again, there's a message here about balance. You don't have to spill everything about your life to the first person who asks, but at the same time there will be people who benefit from your fiery energy. Your interests and talents deserve to take up some space, pile 1. I think this pile just shines in general even if you're not always aware of it, even if it's incredibly subtle. It's in the little things.

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

Pile 2. Evanescence - Bring Me to Life

Shield (Fire, Sagittarius); "I attract relationship in harmony with my authentic self"; 5 of Cups, 10 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles

This pile could be going through some awakening period right now. I know, I know, it may sound cliché with "wake me up inside" as the lyrics, but it occurred to me that the Shield in your card is like this old energy that has been barricading you from material experiences. Like this is a pile who's really already been in the thick of the brambles and is wanting to come out. The Sagittarius arrow sign is in my mind like a flare set off from deep in the woods as if to say, "hey! I'm over here, come find me!" It's being let off in the sky in the hopes of rekindling some sort of lost connection to something, could be a person or to a certain goal. You currently shine brightest when it comes to relating to others, and seeking out positive relationships.

It could be that you've gone through some disrupting experiences that have encouraged you to wall off to self heal. This may have taken a long period of time to work through. I feel that you're moving into a part of the thicket where more light is pouring in from the outside, that you're near the end of a long isolating tunnel. You're entering a phase of your life where you're ready to have connections that feel more solid and real, rather than fairweather friendships. You're looking for sustainability, for people to have some sense of loyalty with. People with whom you can truly enjoy the abundance of life. The main issue is that grief and isolation can becomes habits that we may need to temper with in order to allow the new. Forgive yourself when you still feel the need to retreat even as you begin to stand out more. Depending on how long it's been, it can be quite an adjustment.

Maybe abundance is coming a little slow here, as the green color here is blocky. But it's rich like emerald, so once it's found, things will transform in your life radically. It's saying that even if you identify as an introvert, there is still "treasure" to be found in building new relationships. It could be totally virtual. But you shine from making the most out of the opportunities that your current or as of yet undiscovered relationships have to offer. You have a lot to offer others as well. I do get a strong teaching role from this pile. Maybe you've thought about going into teaching. I think your students would see you as sensitive and resourceful.

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

Pile 3. LMFAO - Sexy and I Know It

Marigold (Water, Scorpio); "I am wise and wonderful"; 6 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 10 of Cups

Your reading is so clear to me, you shine brightest when you are fully present in the moment and loving what you're doing and who you're being. I don't think this pile likes to waste any time lol. I think you've had some hard experiences that have taught you how to value the time and resources you have, especially when you give this energy way generously. And I get the sense that you're learning how to manage both the philanthropy side of things with the personal fulfillment side. You're learning that one does not necessarily require the sacrifice of another. Compromise, maybe, but not at a net loss. You can give without overextending the hand, you can seek out bliss in life without taking it away from others.

This is not a common trait to shine in, pile 3. It's a mature place to shine, but not always easy to develop. It's required a lot from you right from the beginning. There were probably some things you had to let go to make it all work before. But it doesn't always have to be that way. Your ability to rise above the situation, brush the dust off your coat and move forward is what makes you shine. Although I'll say this: even if it looks like all is going well, you're still allowed to feel whatever grief is stored up inside you. It's part of moving past it in order to make the most out of the present.

Some of these experiences may have had something to do with your sense of confidence, your body image, how your present yourself to others, self-expression, and I'm also getting pretty privilege as a topic. Self worth over buying the right kind of things too… I think you're letting your hair down finally. You're letting some outdated ideas about your image go, you shine when you declare yourself to be beautiful and sexy "just because". Why does there need to be a reason? Some people might tell you that you, in particular, aren't "allowed" to feel good in your own skin and clothes. Some may get threatened by your confidence. But it's because that's where you shine and it's up to them to adjust their vision. Tell em to make an optometrist appointment if they can't handle seeing your presentation.

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, Vitaminsee Tarot ™

[cosmicjoke]

Hello. I wanted to ask for your opinion on Armin x Annie. Do you think it makes sense? To me, with some thinking, everything in aot sorta makes sense except this ship. Like I don't hate the characters but I don't think they make sense together, especially when Armin started developing his crush on Annie when he didn't know her reasoning for all that she did and that she was not a genuinely bad person. At that time, to him, she was someone who had murdered a big part of the corps he was in, destroyed a city, helped destroy a wall and someone who had tried to take his friend. I can sort of understand Annie liking Armin but then again, not really because she never really showed a lot of care for anyone except her father in the first season and she never really knew him as a person. Your explanations make sense to me so I was hoping you'd share your understanding of this ship.

I'll be honest, I don't put a whole lot of thought into any ships in AoT, other than probably Eren and Mikasa, because a large part of the plot revolves around their feelings for one another.

With Armin, I think maybe a part of his feelings for Annie stemmed from guilt.

Armin was the person who first realized that Annie was probably the Female Titan, and so, ultimately, Armin probably feels responsible for Annie ending up frozen in that crystal for those four years. I think we see a bit of that guilt in Armin during the attempted capture of Annie in Trost, when he first tries to persuade her to come with them underneath the city and through the tunnels, and then implores her to give herself up when she refuses to come and reveals she knows what they're doing.

We also have to remember that Armin and Annie were cadet's together for three years, and the entire 104th class was pretty tight-nit, as we also see Jean, Connie and Sasha's pain and regret at having to take Reiner down, despite realizing at that point that Reiner was directly responsible for the destruction of Wall Maria and later the second attack, both of which killed countless people.

AoT deals largely in the illogical nature of human emotion, I think. We can know, objectively, that someone we care for has done something horrific, or even unforgivable, but that in itself doesn't cause the love we had for that person to just magically disappear. Emotion doesn't work that way, and years of connection between people doesn't just evaporate when you learn the person you had a bond with isn't exactly who you thought they were.

So with Armin, my guess would be that he started to develop feelings for her when they were in the cadets together, and vice versa. We see Annie spare Armin's life during the Female Titan arc, when he acts as a decoy for Eren and she lifts up his hood and sees it's Armin instead. She could have killed him then and there, but she didn't, and I have to guess it's because she had feelings for him, since we see Annie kill plenty of other scouts that day without hesitation, and even with some seeming enjoyment.

Maybe Armin remembered that moment of Annie sparing his life, and it drove his own sense of guilt at identifying her as the Female Titan and helping come up with the plan for her capture all the more.

Then, over that four year period, when he would visit Annie's crystalized form, I think Armin was really going through a bad period. Eren was pulling away more and more, growing more and more distant, and Mikasa with him, basically, since Mikasa's primary concern was always Eren at that point. I think Armin probably found a kind of solace in speaking to Annie, even as she couldn't speak back, because he couldn't really talk to his actual friends anymore. And then, they'd all found out so much about the world and Marley and who Reiner and Bertolt and Annie had actually been during that four year period, too, and identifying them as the enemy was no longer such a cut and dry situation. They were all forced to acknowledge the Warrior's as people, and Armin himself had specifically had to do things which some people might label him as a monster for doing, like killing other people. So I think Armin, with his natural empathy and ability to see things from other people's perspectives, was able to see things from Annie's perspective, at that point, having to do something terrible in order to survive and keep going. Armin also tends toward self-blame a lot, and suffers from obvious self-loathing, so again, I think that played into his sense of guilt, this feeling that he'd done wrong by Annie, even though he really hadn't. I think he beat himself up a lot over having eaten Bertolt, too, even though, again, there wasn't any choice involved for Armin there, and it was the only way for his own life to be saved. But he probably felt bad because he knew, after inheriting Bertolt's memories, that he'd had feelings for Annie, too, and maybe he felt some kind of obligation toward her for that reason, and that eventually turned to him feeling a bond with her.

Anyway, that's my best guess as to why we see a romantic connection blossom between the two of them.

[pinksoullesswench]

Cute, cozy ways to survive winter

- buy a winter-ish tea to warm you up in the morning and the evening. You can also make your own mix (I love cranberry and elderberry)

- take vitamin D3 to boost your mood and prevent seasonal depression

- take beta carotin to have a glowy, tanned skin even without the sunlight

- get a good quality jacket from a material like wool or hemp (eco), and yes, it will cost a lot, but it's worth it. It keeps your warmer than any cheaper jacket and will last longer. A tip from a broke girl: I started to save up money in June. Also I search only in second-hand stores. I also recommend a faux fur. You can already find nice finds for 90€

- few times a week, make yourself a little bath for your feet. After a cold day, pour hot water into a bowl and put some nice bathing salts or etheric oils, I usually do smth that smells like pine trees. Super relaxing and warms your feet ^^

- read winter-ish books. They help to romanticize the cold time and make the season much more special

- get yourself a nice thick pair of socks that you will enjoy wearing during the winter

- dress warm. I have a special thermal set that I always put under my clothes. Avoid wearing jeans, for they will only make you freeze. Wear thick sweaters (I love cashmere, I bought one cheap in a second hand store), or long warm skirts or dresses (they make me feel girly and special during the cold time) remember, when you buy expensive, good quality clothes keep them in natural colors so they're universal and timeless. Remember: the time of cute outfits is over, now we're in the survival mode

- you can add yourself some color with pretty gloves and hats. I love wearing slavic scarves during the winter to honor my heritage

- when buying a shower gel, perfume, shampoo or body lotion peak smells that remind you of winter. I go for mandarine/ orange scents 😊🍊

- drink vitamin c in the morning!!!

- choose a thicker cream for your face, nothing water-based. Your skin needs special care and protection during the winter. I have an acne prone, oily skin, and I still choose thicker creams, so don't be afraid to do the same. My go-to for winter is a levera cream for sensitive skin and a black cumin seed oil. I also like products from PinusVital.

- uv still exists during winter so don't forget a sunscreen!

- decorate your apartment, room or house with winter decor. I'd defiently focus more on winter related things since they will last until March. Christmas things tend to be thrown away much quicker after Christmas. There's so many cute ideas!

- get yourself a sun clock. It's a lamp you put by your bed, which imitates the sunshine. It's especially useful in early mornings since we humans aren't programmed to be waking up in full darkness. It helps to wake up your body :)

- get yourself a bunch of candles and light them in the evening. Element of fire has always been crucial for our ancestors during these trying times

- every single week plan to do something new. It can be finding a new song or new album, going to a restaurant or a coffee shop you've never been to before, learning something new, visiting a place you haven't seen yet, trying out a new recipe, even taking a different rode back from work/school, write a new poem, start a new book, watch a new movie, keep yourself entertained by little things

- out of the same principle, try to redecorate or change placement of furniture from time to time. Our brains get easily bored and especially during winter it can be very depressing. Brains need the change to stay healthy and fit

- especially during cold times, a community is really important. Even if you're an introverted person, it doesn't mean you should stay alone all the time. Humans are social beings, and we need contacts to one another. During winter months and long evenings, loneliness can be very hard. Try looking for a local book club or knitting club or any other club you'd enjoy. Download Bumble BFF it's an app that helps you to find friends! Volunteer at your local senior house or even your local dog shelter. Being constantly alone has literally never done anyone any good.

- burn incenses to boost energies in your household (any time it's needed, of course if you believe in stuff like this :) ) I recommend orange incense (brings luck and happiness)

- spend time outside. During the week I barely have time but every weekend I try to go on a walk possibly out in the nature. Your mental state regulates this way. Just 15 minutes of walk outside each day can boost your mood. Believe me, it comes from a person who struggled a lot with depressions.

- don't forget to eat well. You burn more calories during the winter because your body uses lots of energy to keep itself warm. Eat regular, well-balanced food portions. I love vegetarian food magazines that offer amazing seasonal recipes, so you cook with vegetables and fruits that actually grow during the winter. I think it adds more magic and meaning to the season to cook with seasonal food.

- wake up early. And early can be different for every person, but sleeping in every day is not proven to be healthy. Sleeping in causes chronic diseases, slows down your metabolism, and can cause social problems. Of course, there's nothing wrong with having one slower day, but having a crazy sleeping schedule can get you in sleep debt that will not result in anything productive.

- pick projects you want to accomplish during winter like for example my projects are: learn about local birds and mammals, make a little house in my local forest, learn how to diy fairy houses, learn how to knit :)

❄️Remember that winter time is the time to slow down and relax. Look around at nature and see how everything is seemingly dead and waiting for the spring. Don't worry if you're not being great all the time or constantly achieving new milestones because it's totally fine to calm down after many months of work. I know that the capitalism convinced us that we should always work, no matter what, but I just want you to remember that nature intended otherwise and of you're more tired and sleepy during these months that's totally normal. Just be kind to yourself.❄️

[currenthyperfixationcherik]

Tus ojos me cuentan que te han visto llorar. (Your eyes told me they've seen you cry.)

Based on "Cuídate" by La Oreja de Van Gogh

Despite the time, Charles could always count on those nights, those were his special nights. It wasn't that they made him feel really special, but between the falsehoods of political life and the distance he had to keep from the teachers and students at his school... He was lonely.

Today, more than any other day, he felt utterly alone and he needed to remediate that situation.

He didn't look Scott in the eye, didn't raise his gaze to Hank, didn't smile pretending that everything was okay. It may be time to leave.

He still remembers the scene, Jean, so full of energy, life, pain... It doesn't matter if in the end, she forgave him, he knows it would never be the same. She left because of a mistake of his, for wanting to decide for others, for wanting to look good to humans who still consider them weapons, Raven was right. The fights he had with all of them feel worse than that time in Cuba when Erik left. Charles bets Hank now knows why Erik left them.

"Forget that old friend shit, Charles, nobody wants to listen to it." It was true. Maybe they all should have abandoned him since that time, maybe Hank would have been happier with them, or at least he would have been better off than he was when he was left to take care of Charles. No one wants to listen to a drunk cripple complaining about how he was abandoned, no one wants to feed the addictions of a guy who can't even handle his thoughts. It had been what, thirty years? And he still didn't see those attributes that Charles from the future promised him, nor did he see why Logan admired him so much.

Charles stares at his window, night has fallen since a few hours ago... Charles tries not to see his reflection in the window, it is enough for him to be and feel whatever he is feeling. Looking at the window was better, looking with hope, with expectation...

Charles liked to imagine Erik coming by his window to visit him. Seeing him hovering waiting for an invitation to come in. Charles would stare at him and then let him pass, Erik's fingers would lightly brush his and they would look into each other's eyes, Charles would be the first to break the contact because he knew if he looked at him any longer, he would start crying and he doesn't want to show himself to Erik like that. Never again.

Charles realizes he has no more whiskey in the glass and goes for another drink. Bad habits die hard, he knows that well, all it takes is for him to have a bad day to lock himself in his study to drink some of his selected liquor. Whatever was broken in him, it was never repaired, it just became easy to ignore with the amount of work he assigned to himself. All it took was one slip and he was back in the hole.

Charles had his gaze lost in his glass, lost in the amber-colored liquid as he tried to tune out the shallow thoughts of everyone in the mansion. The liquid seemed to have hypnotized him, his hand swirled the glass from side to side, and Charles watched as the ice cubes slowly melted.

A knock came from his window. Charles stopped moving the glass.

"It's a branch..." Charles said it so as not to get his hopes up, he has had the same fantasy so many times that he already knew the inevitable pain that would come for him if he turned around and there was no one there.

The knock sounded again. His chair shifted a little...Charles didn't move it.

With a haste hindered by alcohol, Charles sets his glass down on the desk and turns to look at the window.

It's...

"May I come in?" Charles' eyes were wide, he wanted to slap himself to see if he was dreaming, but he could only look at the window with surprise, with doubt... with hope. Charles nodded slightly and opened the window. Gracefully, Erik floated in, his feet barely making a sound as he finally descended to the ground. Charles closed the window behind him, not daring to turn to look at Erik.

"Charles?" Charles tightened his grip on the arms of his chair, his knuckles white from the pressure he was exerting. He still didn't have the courage to speak or turn around. Charles heard Erik's footsteps approaching his desk, heard the glass being dragged and lifted, and heard Erik inhale the scent his glass gave off. "I was supposed to be the one with the stiff drinks, Charles." Charles heard Erik set the glass down on the desk as he approached him with slow, precise steps. "Are you planning on turning to look at me any time soon?" Charles sighed, he wasn't in the mood, he really wasn't in the mood.

"Why did you come, Erik?" Charles was still staring at the window, trying to catch a glimpse of Erik through the reflection. He was still somewhat upset about everything that happened the night before, Erik trying to kill one of his students for something she clearly couldn't control bothered him, but knowing that this wasn't characteristic behavior of him bothered him even more. "I think I owe you an apology, for what happened back there." Charles was surprised, with a sarcastic laugh, he finally turned his chair around so he could see Erik. "An apology? Erik, please..." Charles sighed as he brought his hand to his face. "I'm not in the mood for your recriminations or whatever it is you're planning to do now. I have a lot to think about." It was true, he was thinking about dropping the whole thing. This school didn't need him, politics shouldn't need him, nor should he need them. Maybe he'd already done everything he needed to do and Raven and Jean's deaths were a cruel sign of fate for him to realize that. "Charles... I saw you that night, I know you. I didn't come today with an agenda or to blame you for something. I came to get you to tell me what's on your mind, I know there's something there. I thought I might be able to help." Charles looked at Erik doubtfully, his eyes beginning to redden from lack of sleep and tears threatening to come.

Help him. Yes, of course, because having Erik here in front of him helps him think a hell of a lot better. With new anger inside him, Charles began to speak, "Well, tell me, oh wise Erik... How do I bring back my sister? Jean? How do I comfort Hank or Scott when this was my fault?" Erik looked at him with surprise and some pity. Of course Erik still felt sorry for Charles, because apparently, that's the only feeling he can evoke in Erik other than loathing and anger. "Maybe... maybe I am indeed a problem." Charles laughed listlessly, "At least you know you're not the only one disappointed in me. Hank, Scott, Ororo, Kurt, Pietro, my... I don't even know if I can call them my X-Men anymore." In the silence, Erik reached over and rested his fingers on Charles' hand. The touch made Charles look at him, there were so many conflicted feelings, not only in his mind but in Erik's as well. "Why would I be disappointed in you?" The question sounded so genuine that Charles was speechless, his red eyes stared at Erik and at last a tear slipped down his cheek. With his voice breaking, Charles tried to speak "Why wouldn't you be? You're right..." Charles began to raise the volume of his voice. "You were right to abandon me, you were right to tell me that what I do doesn't work, you were right to tell me that looking into people's minds doesn't make me feel what they feel... You were right to hate me and say that no one wants to hear me or  my speeches anymore because they don't work!" Charles looked down and as if the strength had suddenly gone out of him, his voice became a whisper. "I'm useless." Charles could hear Erik's surface thoughts, he knew a part of him was telling him to stop feeling sorry for himself, but, for some reason, Erik wasn't telling him. Not like other times.

"So you think this school is useless?" Erik sounded annoyed but strangely calm, "No, no. This school serves and works well, it's me that doesn't-" His dialogue was interrupted by Erik. "This school was your idea, your vision, you made this a reality, Charles." Erik leaned his arms back on Charles' chair and leaned down, coming face to face with the telepath. "If you were as useless as you say, none of this would exist." After that, Erik straightened up and went for a glass to pour himself some of Charles' whiskey. As he did so, he continued, "Although...sometimes I've thought about our time. Maybe it's time to let the younger ones build their way... Maybe it's time to live in peace. We've already put up our fight, don't you think? We're not useless...but we're tired." Charles never expected to hear those words, much less coming from Erik. With a wistful smile, he looked at Erik "Retire?" Erik approached Charles again, standing almost opposite the chair, his gaze locked on Charles'. "Technically, I had already retired until... all this happened. But, I think you should do the same, retirement feels good, not only to your body but... to you. After Nina..." Charles could see Erik's eyes redden, despite the time, the pain was still fresh in Erik's heart... and a little in Charles' mind. Erik wiped away his tears and took a swig of his whiskey. "After that, the only thing that could bring peace back into my life was retiring... And it was because of you that I was able to do that." Erik smiled genuinely at him and Charles could feel something inside him stir, no matter how many years passed, Erik always found a way to re-ignite the love he felt for him.

Charles smiled, "Hank might like the idea... He's the person who should be in charge of this place, he's been doing it for several years now." Erik straightened up and patted him on the back. "Then you have your answer. Let me know when you know what you want to do after you retire." Erik finished the rest of the drink in his glass and walked to the window. "Leaving so soon?" Charles tried to sound casual, the truth was it always pained him to see Erik leave. "Genosha isn't going to fix itself, Charles. But I'm serious, when you've retired, let me know." After that small farewell, Erik left, leaving Charles staring at the window, thinking...

The headache wasn't from alcohol this time. Only Charles could think of sleeping in front of an open window, first getting cold and now being blinded by sunlight. And maybe, just maybe, he cried after Erik left again. Listless and still dazzled, he left his study, his chair rolling until he reached the kitchen door, still hoping to find Hank.

"Long night, Charles?" Hank spoke to him as soon as Charles entered the kitchen. "Hank, we need to talk now about...about something important." Hank, somewhat ignoring the urgency in Charles' voice and trying not to make his anger obvious, only replied lightly. "I have class with the children, maybe later" Charles interrupted him, "Give them the day off, I know a lot of them haven't done the homework you assigned them, give them time to finish it and come with me, please." Hank decided to humor him, mainly because he was curious about the urgency in Charles' voice. "Okay, I will. I'll go tell them and see you in your office...which surely doesn't smell like alcohol anymore, does it?" Charles just ducked his head. Hank went to warn his students as Charles went ahead to the study.

Hank was stunned, a little worried maybe, but there was also some happiness on his face... "Me? Principal?" Charles was showing him some papers, "Hank... You've always been with me at this school, you're the most qualified for this and you know it..." Charles was confident that Hank felt capable of doing this job. "But...Retire? Where will you go?" That was Hank's main concern, Charles had been living here for decades, he couldn't just drop everything and leave, how was he going to live, where? "Hank, I have a vacation planned, maybe go away for a while to...I don't know Paris?" Charles grabs Hank's arm across the desk. "Hank, you were right. I shouldn't be in front of this school anymore and... Maybe it's time for me to get away from all this, at least for a long time. Whether you decide to stay as X-Men or not, I leave it up to you, but... I must go, Hank." Despite feeling determined, he can't help but let out a few tears. "We're going to miss you, Charles." Charles didn't feel he deserved parting words... But Hank is a genuine person and he does care for him. It's much more than Charles expected.

Retirement is complicated, suddenly Charles has a lot of time on his hands. No meetings, and no calls, occasionally Hank calls him to see how he's doing and what he's doing. Charles is always fine for Hank. Charles is always fine. Charles would go out, walk around, enjoy the scenery and think, and think too much. If he was careless, all the other thoughts around him disappeared and only his own remained...

Hank called him two days ago and told him that new students had arrived. He also asked him if he was in Paris, Charles didn't understand why Hank would be interested, but he told him yes. Hank hasn't called again, but it doesn't matter. Charles is fine.

It was his fourth day in Paris, Charles decided to go out for a drink. The weather was nice and it seemed like a good idea to go out and clear his head for a moment.

Charles was sitting in front of one of the outside tables with his mug in his hands, he was barely perceiving the warmth of his drink when he felt it. A mind he could distinguish among hundreds of others, one he loved to visit, but also one he hardly allowed himself to enter. At some point in his life, he swore he would never enter it again... He set his cup aside and waited.

Walking next to him, he could see a pair of black pants, and a hand carrying a chess set. Looking up for a moment, he could see his face. The man sat across from him at that table and after setting his briefcase on the floor, looked him in the eye... "How is retirement treating you?" His voice was soft and gentle, but Charles again didn't know how to react to Erik's unexpected visit. Much less in the middle of Paris. "What are you doing here, Erik?" He's not allowed to get his hopes up, much less if it's Erik. With false coldness, Charles looks back at him. "I came to visit an old friend." For a moment Charles's features soften and he lets a small smile show, which immediately disappears. "Want a game?" Erik pointed to the chess set with his head, Charles saw him and folded his arms. "No, not today, thank you." Charles wasn't ready, the game was his way of talking, but Charles didn't feel ready to talk to Erik, to pretend there was nothing there anymore, it had been so long... Charles knew that wasn't going to stop Erik from getting his way. He saw it in his eyes, there was no need to listen to his thoughts. "A long time ago, you saved my life." Charles, still with his arms crossed, looked at him, despite the years, despite the things that had happened... Charles' heart clung to a vague hope that he... That Erik... "And you offered me a home." In Erik's eyes, there was only honesty, Charles should not succumb, but he was sorely tempted to do so. Firmly, Erik continued, "I'd like to do the same for you." Oh.

Charles didn't know what to say, or how to react... The mask he put in front of Erik suddenly felt weak, Charles felt weak. He saw that Erik reached into his pocket and placed his two fists in front of him, with a smile that Charles had perhaps not seen in a long time, Erik looked at him insistently. "Just one game." He also saw doubt and fear in his eyes, "For old times' sake." Tears were threatening to come, Charles seriously had no defenses against him, he never would. Charles chose one of Erik's hands, it opened revealing the white pawn, as always... The smirk on Erik's face was impossible not to notice.

"I'll go easy on you." Charles sees him and sees the Erik with whom he shared hotel rooms, experiences in his quest for mutants, songs in the car...

Love.

"No, you won't." Charles' smile makes Erik's face light up, and as they both look into each other's eyes, life goes on around them.

Why didn't you call me? 

I didn't think you were serious.

Charles... I think I've missed you as much as you've missed me. Come, sit down and tell me... How have you lived all these years?

Missing you. Loving you.

That's funny... I've spent them that way, too. Cherik Song Machine List here!

[josiahsterling]

when my time comes / forget the wrong that i've done / help me leave behind some reasons to be missed

TW: DEATH, BLOOD, KNIFE, INJURY, MENTIONS OF DRUG ADDICTION, PAST OVERDOSE

Josiah had gone back inside, feeling a little more level headed. In all, he'd say tonight was a success. The anxiety felt more like it came from the throng of people, not that small part of him that he knew would never quite rewire the same way again. That was something they'd talked about a lot back in rehab. This wasn't a choice he made, it was how his brain worked now. Recovery meant working every day to be the person he wanted to be. The son whose parents didn't worry about leaving alone, the brother that could be there, the uncle that could love that little girl like she was his own. Maybe...maybe the partner someone would want. Someday. That thought was more complicated. Him and Jamie were complicated. Always had been. Jamie was all in, from day one. Threw himself wholeheartedly at a boy who wasn't in the shape to treat anyone gently. And he'd come back to a man still trying to atone. He knew what Jamie wanted. He just...wasn't sure it was what the two of them needed.

That's the thought he's mulling over, absently stirring a Diet Coke, when the lights cut out. The reaction is instant. Total panic. He has to admit, he's spooked too. It's essentially pitch black in here, and with everyone running around, he can't just stay here unless he wants to get trampled. Can't stay. He needs to find...Jamie, Nell, Jesse, Danny, someone. He had to make sure they're okay. The foreboding sense he'd had all night, which up til now he'd chalked up to an unease at the way Jamie was acting, had reared up, and the longer he couldn't find anyone, the worse it got. "Jamie? Jamie!" He's trying to push past people, trying to see if he can make out the taller man in the crowd. "Jesse? Danny? Nell?" He's looking around, trying to find someone. He doesn't know what's happening, and he can't just worry about himself. It's not how he is.

Someone grabs him, and for a second, he thinks it might be one of them, and he doesn't even really care which one it is. Before he can fully turn to try to see them, there's a searing pain in his side. He screams, in surprise, in pain, in shock. He feels like he's moving in slow motion, but whoever's on him now decidedly isn't, and more pain shoots through him as they keep stabbing. He doesn't know how many. Could have been four, could have been forty. He doesn't know. Adrenaline's the only thing keeping him upright, and he tries to run once his head stops swimming, finding his limbs almost too heavy to move. The fabric of his shirt feels hot, sticky, and a feeling of revulsion washes over him when he tastes copper. He doesn't need the lights on to know it's blood. He can feel it seeping through his shirt, running down to his jeans, dripping onto the floor.

He's not actually aware of how far he's managed to get, the pain and the blood loss making him collapse. He just...lays there. He needs to get up. He needs to keep going. He can't lay here and die. He can't.

The house party had been his wake up call. It was some out of town thing, with people he barely knew. But their stuff was always good, so when they'd asked of course he'd said yes. He lost track of how much he was taking, downing a drink when it was handed to him and definitely not turning down the guy who'd been eye fucking him all night when he handed him a couple pills. He's not a lightweight. He'd be fine.

He woke up connected to machines, his mom and dad not even looking at him. When he tried to talk, his throat felt dry, pained. They had looked at him in something between alarm and relief, their eyes red. He didn't know what had happened. The last he remembered, a guy in bright blue eyeliner had flopped onto the couch he was on, putting his head in Josiah's lap. How--

He'd overdosed. On what they couldn't tell him until he remembered what he took or toxicology came back. His heart had stopped. He'd been dead. He felt like a cliche, coming home and realizing only now that this had gone too far, gotten too bad for him to just fix it himself. He had to...He didn't know yet, but he had to do something.

He has a similar thought now, even as his vision goes spotty. He has to do something. He's so close to one year. Three weeks. Twenty-four days, really, but close enough. Twenty-four days, and he's hit his goal. He's so close. Three hundred forty-one days down. Twenty-four to go. Twenty-four. He's so tired. He's cold. Someone's in front of him, and he flinches. Tries to tell them to leave him alone, don't hurt him. Help him. He needs help. He needs his mom.

They're trying to talk to him, trying to press against the wounds. He's vaguely aware of being lifted. His vision is swimming, fading in and out. He doesn't remember dying the first time. If this is what it is, it's...it's warm.

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Sleepover

PART 1

Pairing: Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which you're scared to stay home alone so you go over to Eddie's and ask if you can sleepover.

[Part 2]

As you sat on your couch with only the television to light the room, you struggled to calm your nerves. Your mom was working the night shift which meant you were going to be alone in the trailer all night. And as pathetic as it sounded, you didn't quite like the idea of being alone all night. And it brought you little comfort that Hawkins was practically cursed. Anything could happen to you.

You tried to concentrate on watching the TV and not freaking out over being in this trailer on your own, but it was no use. You felt like you were going to lose your mind if you remained here any longer. So after a few more minutes of worrying, you picked up the phone and dialled Eddie's number.

You'd known him for a couple of months now after he invited you to sit at his table one day, and his trailer wasn't far from yours. He picked up after a few seconds. "Hello?"

"Hey...it's uh...it's (y/n)."

"Oh, hey." He said, sounding a little more upbeat now. "What's up?"

"Could I come over?"

"Uh yeah, sure. Everything okay?"

"Fine, fine." You lied. "I'll come over now."

You put the phone back on the wall and quickly slipped your shoes on, rushing out the door and almost running to Eddie's trailer. You felt like a child, running scared through the dark.

When you reached his trailer, he was already waiting at the door, leaning lazily on the door frame. You followed him inside and stood in the living room whilst he hurriedly tried to tidy the counters. "Sorry about the mess."

"I don't mind." You shrugged. "Thanks for letting me come over by the way."

"No problem." He smiled. "So uh, what's up?"

"I know this is kind of a big ask but...could I uh...would it be okay if I-"

"You wanna stay here?"

"If it's not too much trouble." You said quietly. "I just...it's stupid but...I can't stay in that trailer on my own."

"What's stupid about that?" He chuckled, guiding you to sit down on the couch with him. "You've heard the shit that goes on in this town. There's no shame in being scared."

You sat in silence for a moment before Eddie got up off the couch, holding his hand out to you. You looked up at him in confusion.

"Well if you're gonna stay here, you gotta see where you're gonna be sleeping." He grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you up off the couch.

"You're...letting me stay?"

"Course. You're always welcome here."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

He led you toward his room and quickly cleared some stuff off his bed before turning back to you. "I can take the couch." You offered, awkwardly looking behind your back to the living room.

"Nah, you're good. Just take the bed."

"You sure?"

"(y/n), take the bed."

"Thank you."

"Hey, do you wanna borrow a shirt or something?" Eddie asked as you began slipping your shoes off. "It's just...that doesn't exactly look...comfy."

"Oh." You said, only now remembering what you were wearing. "Is that okay?"

He laughed. "It's fine. Just, hold on."

You watched as he rummaged around in a drawer, finally pulling out one of his Hellfire shirts. "Sorry." He said, handing it to you. "It's all I got at the moment."

"It's okay." You took the shirt from him and he left the room whilst you changed. You quickly slipped off your jeans and replaced your sweater with his shirt. And once you'd gotten it on, you felt like you'd been draped in a big blanket. It practically swallowed you.

You opened the door and walked out into the living room, where Eddie was slumped on the couch. "Eddie?"

"Oh, hey. Definitely not too small then." He chuckled, pointing to the shirt hanging off your shoulders.

"Oh, yeah." You looked down at your clothes, letting out a nervous laugh. "So I was thinking...since I can't really just take your bed, maybe...we could uh, we could share?"

He raised his brows at you. "You good with that?"

"Yeah. We can go head to toe."

"Alright then." He smiled, following you back to his room.

When you were both comfortable on the bed, you suddenly didn't feel tired. Like when you had sleepovers as a kid and wanted to stay up all night messing around. "Hey Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I know I keep saying it, but thank you."

"It's okay. I'm happy to help out a friend."

"You know when we first met, you weren't what I thought you'd be."

"Mean and scary?"

"Yeah." You laughed. "And now look, I ran over here to you 'cause I was scared of being alone."

"Well I'm always happy to help."

"You're a good guy, Eddie Munson."

[Main Masterlist] [Eddie Masterlist]

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

[gucciwins]

find your pleasing

left alone in los angeles, bel finds something to do

Word count: 3031

A/N: hi friends! this is a bit of a surprise is it not. this is a little piece on bel in la supporting harry. i am forever grateful that you choose to read my writing. remember to reblog and send some love <3

love on tour series

Los Angeles, California

Tuesday, November 16, 2021

It's genuinely Harry's year.

He's taken hold of the world and is never letting go. With the launch of Pleasing, he had become busy. As much as you wanted to enjoy Los Angeles together, the man had meeting after meeting. Of course, you understand it doesn't mean you don't miss him.

Harry had surprised you. Pleasing is a brand about yourself and finding things that allow you to feel good in your own skin. It might not appeal to everyone, and you understand that. He was over the moon with emotion from the reaction of fans. You knew it'd only continue to grow.

Being in LA meant it was easier to do surprises such as day two of the Pleasing truck. Last night you were in San Diego, but now being in a city that you loved but no longer felt like home meant you were able to participate in these events he made for fans.

How could you not go? You were alone with nothing to do.

Harry was off doing who knows what; Anne was visiting friends. She had graciously invited you, but you declined, not wanting to impose. That left you alone, and the Pleasing account announcing they were at Pampered Hands, on Melrose, well there was no one to stop you from visiting.

You decided to text your good friend, Isla. She's a writer, mainly horror and mysteries, something you really enjoy. She promised she'd be free this week if you wanted to get together, knowing you'd be in town.

Y/N

want to do something today, say half an hour? xx

Isla

Is it Harry related?

You laugh, not at all shocked at her question. She's someone you couldn't lie to. Isla reads you like a book.

Y/N

course it is. xx

Isla

I'm in.

Y/N

great! xx

Isla

Are you taking security?

Y/N

why would i? xx

Isla

Umm...honey, you're a bit famous.

Y/N

promise they won't recognize me. xx

Isla

They won't?

Y/N

i'll blend in wearing merch and sunglasses. xx

Isla

Okay. I'll pick you up soon.

When you arrive, you park a few streets down, knowing you wouldn't find anything nearby. Los Angeles and their parking is awful and don't even get you started on one-way streets.

Isla is wearing a black tour hoodie you gifted her, while you wear the off-white tour shirt with Harry's seafoam green cardigan. You throw on your sunglasses, hook your arm through Isla's and begin to walk to the end of the line. There are at least a hundred fans in front of you, all smiling and talking, the excitement clear on their face.

You join behind a group of two girls decked out in merch, having the tour tote bag, his sweater, the hat, and to tie the look were flared jeans. These fans sure knew how to dress; you were in awe. Honestly, you slipped on your favorite velvet black pants, old vans and called it an outfit. Isla had a similar idea going for straight-leg jeans and old slip ons. You might be underdressed, but enough to blend in.

Isla knew your accent was recognizable, although you doubted it because, in films, you always worked with dialect coaches; you were a mix of American English, British English, and Spanish accents when speaking. It was hard, but that's just who you are; either way, to be safe, Isla wanted to converse in Spanish.

The line was moving slowly, but it gave you time to catch up on what you've been up to in the last year. You shared about London, and how you'll be going very back soon. She told you about this new idea; she has for a new book. She had been writing nonstop. It's about a girl who dreams of visiting the graveyard from a young age, never able to see the tomb she's visiting. Finally, when she's eighteen, the person she sees she visits is herself, who passes away at twenty. A person there tells her she can stop it if she sees him and gets him to help. You're waiting to hear more when Isla tells you that's all you're getting. Now you'd have to wait a good two years before you could read it, and it would very well be worth it.

"Excuse me,"

Your conversation on Isla's puppy is interrupted when the person in front of you with deep blue eyes smiles at you and know it's directed at you.

"Hello."

"Sorry to ask, but where are you from? My mom's Puerto Rican, and I can't for the life of me speak Spanish." The person shares.

"Oh, um…my dad's side." You keep it short, knowing this person doesn't need your life story. "Growing up with my grandparents, it's all they'd let me speak when not in school."

"Hmm... it's nice, your voice. To listen to, very smooth." The girl blushes, looking away as if she said too much.

"Thank you, very kind."

She flashes you a smile, turning back around, marking the end of your conversation.

"Era linda." Isla comments.

"Si, vistes sus ojos?"

"Bien hermosos."

The line moves up, and you're grateful because you're getting hungry. Everyone is friendly and everything, but you're looking forward to getting out of being off the streets for so long. You see up ahead, there are lots of people lingering and taking photos with the truck. You sneak a picture, reminding yourself to show Harry later.

You're looking down at your nails, pink and white, the pleasing colors that Harry wanted you to wear, and you let him do it last night after soundcheck. Isla notices you staring and chuckles.

"Low key," she whispers.

"Shush."

"Qué haremos después?"

You click your tongue, thinking about it for a few seconds, "ver la puesta del sol."

"Suena bien."

"Oh, donuts, and we go," you shout in excitement at the prospect, forgetting that there were around you. You shoot them a small smile before burying your face in Isla's face to hide your flushed face.

"Bien hecho," Isla replies sarcastically.

Someone taps Isla's shoulder, causing her to turn both of you. The person has a cherry cardigan, arms wrapped around her tightly, "donuts from where? I'm not from the area, and that sounds good."

"In LA, you must try Randy's. Some will say it's overrated, but it's a must." You assure her.

"Good, yeah. Sounds familiar."

The line moves up, making you turn away from the person with a grin. You're only a few people out when you spot a familiar person's eye.

He smirks at you shaking his head; all you do is shrug. You're not sure how he noticed you, but you'll be sure to do ask at the venue tomorrow.

As you and Isla approach together, you let out a sigh of relief at no one recognizing you.

"Hello," he greets with a wide smile.

"Hi, Darian."

"Weren't aware you were making an appearance."

"It's a secret."

"For how long?"

You shrug, "once I leave, I'll post about it."

"You're something else, sweetie."

"What," you pout, "got to support the bestie."

"Alright, you get one a person and stickers."

"Oh, fun." Isla comments.

"Can I pay for both?"

"Hey, don't." Isla tries to stop you, swatting your hand away.

You turn to her, patting her cheek gently, "took you away from your home, my treat. You buy donuts, that alright?"

"Okay."

Darian swipes your card, handing Isla her box, and does the same for you, but you gently push it back. "Give it to the thirteenth person, but don't count until I'm gone."

He nods," got you, girl."

"Thank you."

You move out of the way, letting others go as you wait by the side, wanting a picture at the front with the truck. You know Harry will like it. The three girls in front of you have all taken photos separately, and you know she is nervous to ask someone to take their picture, so you step forward.

"I can take it if you'd like."

"Would you?" Her eyes light up at your suggestion.

"Promise, I'll get all the angles." As she hands over her phone, squatting in front of her friends.

You take a few, moving back a few feet to get good lighting; at one point, you squat down, getting her new shots. After that, you hand it back over.

"Thank you so much."

"No problem, sweetie."

"I can take yours." She offers

"That'd be lovely."

You have Isla hand over her phone, not wanting anyone to see your lock screen photo of you and Harry. It's from one of your late-night rendezvous in Boston, and you can't risk anyone seeing it.

"Come on, lovely. Hug me like you love me."

"Oh, quiet, you. You're the most loved person I know."

The girl taking your photos giggles, and you hurry, not wanting to take up much of their time. You shoot up the peace sign and figure she's taken more than enough.

Isla moves you to the side as you slide through the photos seeing how well they turned out, a few people in the back staring at you for some reason.

As Isla begins to send you the photos, you spot someone with the cutest crocheted mushroom hat. You gasp, tapping Isla's hand repeatedly to get her to look up.

"Go say something," she pushes you.

Your eyes widen, "what? No."

"Come on, don't be a baby. No one's recognized you; maybe she sells them."

That makes up your mind.

"Hi, excuse me," the girl's violet purple hair stares at you until they turn. "Your hat is precious. Did you make it?"

"I did."

"It's lovely, I know it's an odd question, but do you sell them?"

"I do, yeah. I started a few months ago to help pay for uni. It's an Etsy shop."

"I've tried, and mine are always awful." You frown, knowing yours never turns out that well.

"I can send you my template."

"Would you?" If you have Instagram, I'll message you through there. Also, my friend will love me if I buy him some."

"Sure," she rattles off her Instagram name, and you save it in your notes to follow her once you've left.

"Can we take a photo? My friend is going to be so jealous he doesn't have one yet."

"Uh, sure."

You stand with her, smiling, pointing up at the hand as she smiles.

"Thank you, sorry I never caught your name."

"Oh, it's Michie."

"Well, thank you, Michie. Are you alright if I post it?"

Michie shrugs, "no problem."

"Once again, thank you."

"No problem…" she trails off.

"Oh! Bel."

"My pleasure, Bel."

Sitting on the trunk of Isla's CR-V, looking out at one of your favorite lookouts in Malibu, eating endless amounts of donuts, and knowing the sugar crash will hit soon, you take a deep breath and take it all in.

It's odd at times you have to live your life hidden, but times like you had today with the fans who support Harry make everything worth it because if you didn't choose this career, there's no saying if you'd be lucky enough to have met him. You know, if you ever bring this up to Harry, he'll say something cheesy about how he knows fate had a way of sending him to you. That you'd find each other in every world that was to come, and it fills you knowing that you're loved like you always dreamed of being from the stories you heard growing up and seeing it in person from your grandparents.

"What did I tell you?" You sing-song, bumping Isla's shoulder.

She rolls her eyes, "Yeah, yeah."

You take your phone out, picking out the photos you want to post, preparing a caption as Isla watches closely.

"What are you doing now?"

"Posting, of course."

"Oh my."

"Oh yes," you smirk.

You post a photo of you hugging Isla, you're foot kicked up as you flash the camera, your best smile as Isla has her head thrown back laughing as you tickled her side.

Y/NBelmonte: find you pleasing… I think I found that here harrystyles, my friend. You're worth the wait always. <3 ps: lucky thirteen, hope you enjoyed the gift.

You make a second post, this time a photo of Michie. You make sure to check their profile and follow them before tagging her. You're both giggling as you both put up peace signs at the same time.

Y/NBelmonte: shroomsmiles Michie, you were the sweetest. Can't wait for my hats to arrive. I will patiently wait for that template in hopes I finally succeed.

You lock your phone, giving the fans time to react.

"You're chaotic."

"Only in Los Angeles."

The breeze gets cold, and the sun is not officially gone for the day, when you know it's time to get back in the car, not wanting to risk catching a cold. Nope, not when the next two weeks are very important.

"Do you want to check Twitter?" Isla asks as she pulls out her phone, knowing you'd be saying yes.

Instead of answering, you do the same. You're trending number one already. #BelmontexPleasing

"That's insane," you whisper.

"No, very on-brand, I think."

You scroll through the tag wanting to hear what everyone is saying.

@JustChess: why did no one tell me she was in the city

@StylesMyLove: SHE WAS THERE

@harrysfriend: how did no one notice her!!!!!!

You laugh; it turns out sunglasses are good disguises still.

@tay.styles: MICHIE WON IN LIFE AND DIDN'T EVEN KNOW

@belmontexstyles: is this confirmation they are dating?

@belmontemyhero: I hope it is. She called him friend, though.

@biandproud: y/n was in front of me with her friend. We talked about donuts.

@blueyedork: y/n and her friend spoke Spanish in line. I DIE. SHE KNOWS HER ACCENT IS UNIQUE ENOUGH TO BE RECOGNIZED.

@hailey.notafan: she was my bi awakening. She took our photos. I have made it in life.

You heart that one, hoping to brighten their day just a little more.

@watermelonstarfish: GOT THE FREEBIE. MAN DIDN'T LET ME PAY, SAID A FRIEND OF HIS PAID.

@fayfay: You win. You win

You don't like commenting, but you want to. You'd settle for a like, and if you run across her Instagram, you'll shoot her a message.

@newmoviewhen: I WANT TO DIE.

@belmontemylove: SHE IS GOING TO THE LA SHOWS. WHEN WE BREATHE THE SAME AIR, YOU WILL NEVER HEAR FROM ME AGAIN

"Man, these fans are funny." Isla comments showing one of you in the background of someone's photo the tweet expressing how it was technically a photo together.

"Shit."

"What," you sigh.

"This one connected dots."

@harrysclosetss: correct me if I'm wrong, but that's Harry's cardigan.

There is a photo of Harry in Los Angeles with the cardigan thrown over his shoulder, and you there posing with the peace sign.

You decide to leave one comment and call it a day.

@Y/NBelmonte: @harrysclosetss best friends share clothes. Think I've lost more items than he has.

"Yeah, maybe you should get off." Isla is about to take your phone when a familiar name pops up.

"No, hold on."

It's a screenshot of an Instagram post.

@michiesunflower: I'm overwhelmed with the love I've been receiving. Bel, thank you. I had the most challenging year, and you made it better. I will forever be thankful for your kindness. Promise to send over the template. Thank you for reminding us all you're one of us.

You retweet the photo and log out. You close your eyes feeling a bit overwhelmed at it all, especially Michie's words at being one of them.

A fan.

You will always be a fan, and you're not afraid to show it because it reminds others how you're just like them. In the industry you work in, there will always be people you admire and look up to. No surprise that Harry was one of them.

Isla is about to speak when your phone rings, cutting her off. She peaks and sees it's Harry letting it slide.

"Hi, H."

Isla makes hearts at you, and you laugh, turning away from her.

"What did you do, Bel?"

You're confused, "me? Nothing."

"Where are you?"

"A lookout on PCH."

"You went, Bel." He accuses.

You laugh, relaxing because that's what he was talking about, not anything extreme. "I did. Wanted to support you."

You hear him sigh and know you got him. "My angel, you're the sweetest."

"I try."

"Jeff says everyone is going crazy."

"I know, it's weird."

"Is it?"

"Honestly, a bit. Being on tour with you has made me forget a bit."

You know he's nodding, "I understand." He goes silent. "Did you order me hats?"

"I did, even for baby Jones even though he'll outgrow it."

"That's sweet. I bet they'll appreciate it."

You hum, "are you done?"

"I am," he confirms, and you hear the familiar sound of a car starting.

"Really?"

"Yes, love. Dinner with mum in a bit, will you be able to join?"

You look over at Isla, who shoots you a thumbs up, "of course. I'll be there soon."

"Okay, good. Missed you."

"Harry?"

"Yes, mi sol."

You freeze, taking a moment to let it sink in, the sweet nickname never failing to fill you with butterflies. "We need time for me to cook you dinner this week."

"I promise we will. I'll make sure of it." He assures you.

"Good, drive safe, mi amor."

"You too, darling. Say hello to your friend from me."

"Will do."

"See you at home."

"Home," he whispers. "You're my home, Bel."

You feel your face flush and look away, not believing he chose this moment to be this sweet.

"I love you, H."

"And I love you."

Isla drives off as you stare off at the darkening sky where few stars can be seen. You're on your way home. Home hadn't been a place for a long time, but to know Harry feels the same for you fills you with more love than you can imagine.

thank you for reading <333

taglist: @alienorknight @harry-is-my-sunflower @myfavfanficsever @4hazza @springholland @michelleficrecs @harryismyfwend @evanjh @onlyamylee @golden-hoax @itsmycorneroftheinternet @harryspirate @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[alygatorwrites]

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough. 

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms. 

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man. 

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden. 

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him. 

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him. 

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece. 

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has. 

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.  

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone. 

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.  

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (12/?)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: A collection of letters Spencer and you share while you're gone - and then you're gone forever. At least, that what he thinks.

Warnings: some fluff, angst, angst, angst, smoking, slight ptsd, grief and loss

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I'm sososososo sorry. please don't hate me. I love you. gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

Dearest little bear,

two months have passed since you had to leave, and not a day goes by that I don't think of you and wish you were here with me.

We are trying to do everything in our power to be able to bring you back home. But unfortunately, it seems to be taking longer than I would like.

I was told you were working on it as well. You are strong and smart and even though you can't be with me, I'm sure we can do it together.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest Neruda,

I was very happy to receive your message. I always carry it with me, although I would rather be in your arms, but I can't.

I can't tell you where I am right now, but still I wish you were with me. It is warm and beautiful and I am sure you would like it here very much.

Except for these letters, I'm not allowed to talk to any of you, but I like talking to you best anyway. We've come this far. And we'll make it.

Thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

-

Dearest little bear,

It's been four months and with each passing second it becomes more unbearable. But a light is appearing at the end of the dark tunnel. We think we know who she is.

It won't be long before we can see each other again. And I can't wait to be able to hug you again. To be able to touch you. Or kiss you.

Not much longer. And then nothing can separate us.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest Neruda,

It would have been too good to be with you again at last. But it still takes time.

I have found something that can help us, but for now, just know that I will do everything I can so that I can return home. Back to you. No matter what it costs.

Keep your eyes open. We're closer than you think.

I'm thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

-

Dearest little bear,

I was given time off to take a break. I was with my mother and she told me that a kind young lady had been here. She doesn't remember you, but she knows you are familiar and that she can trust you. As I do.

I am infinitely grateful. And I'm tired of waiting, but for you I do. For you, I do it all.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest Neruda,

I can no longer grasp a clear thought, because whenever I close my eyes I see everything I have done in review. I can hardly sleep and the nightmares plague me.

I just hope that everything will end soon. It has already been a year since we saw each other. I can't promise you anything, but I hope you know that everything I had to do was for you. For us.

Thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

-

Dearest little bear,

it's been a few weeks since I've heard from you. I hope you are doing well.

We have found a trail that will take us further.And brings me a little closer to you. And that will bring you back home. I can't wait.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

It's been two months since you wrote to me.

Get back to me as soon as you can.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

Words cannot describe how much I miss you. Or how great the pain in my chest is.

I can't eat, I can't sleep. I can hardly breathe without you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

they hung your picture today. In the portrait you are smiling, proud to finally be part of the team. I can't look at it.

I was sent home, but everything there reminds me of you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

I keep your letters in a small box next to my bed. They are a part of you that I don't want to lose, even though I have already lost you. They are a part of you, just as you are a part of me.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

I went to our bookstore and found a book of poems that you would like. I'll put it with your letters.

No book in the world could have prepared me for the grief I feel. The pain is too engaging for me to talk about it with anyone but you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dear little bear,

it's been almost two years since we last saw each other. I don't remember what you sound like, or what you smell like. Why can't I remember that? Is it wrong of me not to think it's bad? It takes away my pain a little.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dear little bear,

A lot has happened in the two years we've been apart. Too much to ever be able to write down all the things. I just want you to know that this time was not easy for me. Not for any of us.

I put your letters away safely because you will always be important to me. But I have to let you go. And with this, I release you.

I love you. Forever.

With love,

Neruda

-

You pinch your leg to wake up. Your neck is wet with cold sweat and you have to blink several times to realize that you are in a cab. You run your hand through your hair as the driver looks at you curiously through the rearview mirror. He says nothing, which is why you glance out the window.

The drive from the airport to Quantico only takes an hour, but you still take the opportunity to close your eyes for a moment and doze a little. You haven't had a decent night's sleep in ages, you don't even know what a healthy portion of sleep feels like anymore, because you haven't had that luxury in the last two years.

As the car comes to a stop in front of the FBI building, you pay the driver and get out with your small bag. The building seems much bigger than you remember. You used to spend every day here, it had once been your home. But now you're not even sure you have a home anymore.

You take a deep breath and enter through the large doors, but are directly approached by a security guard.

"Miss? Are you visiting?", he asks suspiciously, extending his arm to keep you at a distance - something that wouldn't do him much good if you were actually trying to get past him.He eyes you up and down, which you can't blame him for. In your ripped jeans, dirty sneakers, and loose sweater, you don't look like someone who belongs here. By now, you don't either.

You look at him. "I'm here to see Unit Chief Prentiss", you reply coolly. You know he's just doing his job, but you're too impatient to let all this wash over you. You know Emily is already in the office. You know her too well not to. Why doesn't he just go get her? You just want to see your friend.

"Chief Prentiss?" He raises an eyebrow. "And what is your request?"

Your gaze is rock hard and your tone cold as ice. "Tell her Y/N Y/L/N is here to see her."

You wait outside the building, letting the morning sun warm your skin and the cigarette burn between your fingers before you put it to your lips and take a drag. Afterwards, you stub it out on a trash can. As you exhale the last bit of smoke, you turn around. And there she is.

Emily is standing at the door, and when you see her, you drop your bag and wrap her in your arms so tightly that you can't breathe. You cling to her, afraid that maybe this whole thing isn't as real as it feels, but you imperceptibly pinch your arm. And she is still with you.

"I thought - they said", she stammers, and it's the first time in your friendship that she's speechless. You hug her even tighter.

"I know", you answer softly, blinking away the tears that have formed in your eyes. The moment is too beautiful to cry. As you break away from each other, Emily wipes her own tears from her cheeks, but some have already landed on her blouse. There are dark stains now.

"I don't even know what to say", she says, smiling at you as you enter the building together. The guard gives you a look, but doesn't ask any questions as you walk past him toward the elevator. Inside, she pushes a button that takes you to the BAU floor. "I can hardly believe you're really here."

Neither can you.

The office is completely silent because no one is here yet except for you. Although nothing has changed, everything has changed because you are now someone else. It's been a long time since you've been here. Two years, but everything in this room is all too familiar to you. The coffee machine, the law books, the files. It feels like you've never been away. It's déjà vu all over again.

While Emily gets you both coffee, you sit down at the round table and wait for her. Your friend sets the cups down on the table before sitting down next to you. She smiles faintly. "How are you?"

You pucker your mouth. How are you? You haven't been asked that question in ages, and to be honest, you don't know how to answer it either. How could you possibly be?

When you don't answer Emily, she phrases her question differently. "What are you feeling right now?"

Your lips become a thin line. "I don't know. It feels like all of this," you point to the room, "isn't a part of me anymore. Nothing has changed, but it still feels foreign."

Emily nods. "You've been through a lot, I guess." She takes a sip of her coffee. "You're right, Y/N. Nothing has really changed here. But you're a different one now, aren't you?"

You open your mouth to answer her, but you don't know what either. Part of you feels at home here, but a bigger part of you knows your place is somewhere else. You just don't know where exactly.

"Do you want to see the others?", Emily asks. "I'm asking you because it's been a long time since you've seen them. And they think you're...you know. Are you ready for that?"

Are you ready for that? You haven't seen either of them in a long time, and it would probably be better not to see them for now, but to let Emily sort it out first. But the team is your family - the closest thing you have to a family. And you've missed them all terribly.

You nod and take a sip of your coffee as JJ and Rossi enter the room. When they see you, they glance uncertainly at Emily, as if they're not sure if it's just imagination, but she nods at them. And that's when all the dams break for JJ.

She pulls you from your chair and hugs you like the salvation of the world depends on it, and David has to pry her cramped arms from you so he can put his around you as well. They affirm to you how much they missed you and ask how you are, wanting to know what happened, but Tara and Penelope join them and that's when it gets too loud for you.

Penelope cries with joy and Tara also can't believe that you are standing in front of her. They besiege you and ask you questions to which you have no answers, so you just smile weakly at them. They definitely don't mean any harm, after all, you've just risen from the dead for them, but you've spent the last while in silence and are no longer used to this volume. So you turn away from them. They look anxiously after you as you sort of flee from them. You hope that this will make the headache go away.

Without paying much attention to where you're going, you find yourself facing the wall where the pictures of the deceased agents hang. And yours is hanging there, too. You don't know how long you've been standing in front of it - minutes? hours? -until a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Y/N?"

You turn around and there stands Spencer. His hair is a little shorter and he looks like he's seen a ghost. Well, he sort of has.

You want to throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, and never let him go. Seeing him knocks the air out of your lungs, which is why you can barely breathe. The two years without him had been hell on earth, but you got through them. For him.

For Spencer, who doesn't take his eyes off you as the blonde woman next to him, whose fingers are intertwined with his, looks at him and asks, "Honey, who's that?"

- tags -

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[dridlim]

IMAGINE FEZ X F!READER

Warnings: strong language.

Word count: 1.3K

Author’s note: English os not my first language, so sorry if there’s something wrong.

She loved Christmas, the kind that really lived for it. I listened to playlists with classic songs, from Mariah Carey to Taylor Swift. She also watched the movies, all that were available that would probably make her cry, and she baked gingerbread cookies for everyone she knew. But this was a different Christmas, she would be working at her parents' diner, which was certainly unfair. She worked there most days of the week, never really bothering to help her parents; but all she wanted was a day off to experience the best day of her favorite era.

Her parents were ruthless, not letting her take time off, so the girl would stay at the store until her usual work time. The diner was empty, predictable, she'd warned her parents about that. A Christmas playlist played around the room, and even though she was upset, she was enjoying herself. Cleaning the counter for the tenth time stirring and even singing another classic hit.

The sound of the bell at the front door of the cafeteria almost went unnoticed, mixing with the bells that accompanied the music.

“Hey” She says stopping her stupid dance and tossing the cloth back, hoping the handsome guy with the red beard hadn't witnessed too much of her delirious moment.

And he in turn smiles, almost shyly and amused. Of course, he had witnessed the whole scene, he even spent a few minutes at the door wondering whether to come in and disrupt the show or not. But it was the only diner that was open. "Hi, your Christmas spirit is in full swing."

"Damn, you've seen too much, clear any traces of your mind" She responds seeing him approach the counter, both laughing.

“So…” He starts looking at the name on the name tag that was on his clothes “(Y/N)? It's a nice name, I like it”

“Thank you” She responds, enjoying the comment.

“Did, what would you recommend for a guy who is alone at Christmas to eat?”

“Well, I don't know. But pancakes always go down well on any occasion.

"Then I will." He replied sitting down in front of her.

"But you're not alone" Answers seeing him looking confused. Damn, those blue eyes had already enchanted her. “Now that you've found me, we're no longer spending our Christmas Eve alone. I'll heat up some donuts for us.” She blinks leaving him alone.

Did he feel a smile grow on his face that he couldn't have any control over, how could he ever have remembered seeing her somewhere in this town?

In a few minutes she returns, with some plates and several donuts in hand, heading to a table near the speaker. He followed her noting the sweater and jeans she was wearing, along with a boot. She was beautiful.

“What do you think of our supper?” Questions standing next to him, several donuts and even some coffee on the table that would be theirs.

“It's my best supper in years” He responds looking at her before they each sit on one side.

“So, Fez, what brings you here?” (Y/N) asks starting to eat a donut.

“Well, my little brother has been sleeping all day and there was nothing to eat at home. It seemed like a good idea to go out to eat, so here I am. Is that you? Shouldn't it be a world day off?

"I think so, but my parents insisted that I work in case someone like you showed up" She raises her eyebrows at him who smiles guiltily "That's part of it, as long as it doesn't snow, I'll still be awake."

“Snow fan?” Questions devouring his donuts "Man this is really good".

“I'm glad you liked it, it's one of my specialties” She smiles proudly “And yes, snow is one of my favorite things in the world. You like?".

“I like it, but to be honest, it's been a long time since I played or even stopped to look at it”.

“If we're lucky, the weather forecast said it should snow in about 30 minutes” She replies looking at her cell phone.

“How have I never seen you around here?” He asks, when you have a job like his, even the richest in town get to know him and do business with him. Most people don't go unnoticed, and he's sure to remember her.

“I moved recently. I was taking a cooking course in the next town, so when I finished, I came to help my parents.”

"So, I'm having dinner with a chef?" He jokes making them laugh, and shit, he was already thinking about taking a joke course to see her smile all the time.

“Almost that, and you? What do you work with?”

“You don't want to know” He replies feeling a little dark, never a gentle girl like her would want to get involved like someone like him.

“Can I try to guess?” She asks seeing him confirm “Drug dealer?”.

He almost spits out the sip of coffee he was taking “How do you know?”.

“When you work in a cafeteria, you make friends with a lot of people” She says “I made friends with Jules, who now comes here all the time with Rue. We talk a lot".

"So, Rue's been explaining to me around?"

“No way” She hastens to deny it “It was a common thing, she just wanted to talk about the guy she considered a brother. His profession was just a detail in the conversation.”

“Dawn” is the only thing he manages to say, feeling a little shy that she knows what he does.

“I think we do what it takes for our family” She takes on a more serious tone “I'm not in the position to judge anyone, especially when you strike me as one of the nicest guys I've ever met”.

"Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.” He responds feeling less uncomfortable, and even grateful that she thinks so.

"It's snowing" She says leaning against the window, snowflakes starting to accumulate across the parking lot "Let's gooo" She says again removing the apron that hugged her waist and taking a thicker sweater near the door. "What are you waiting for? It's snowing!".

She goes back to pull him by the hand, and the simple touch makes Fez feel totally warm. They leave the cafeteria seeing the city begin to paint itself white with the snow, (Y/N)'s smile lights up everything around, and if he wasn't blushing before, now he was sure he was.

"It's like a perfect Christmas" She sighs feeling the snowflakes hug her. Not missing the smile Fez had on his face.

He takes advantage of her distracted look, now looking up, and prepares a snowball to throw at her. Hitting her precisely in the belly.

"You shouldn't have done that" She threatens, as a snowball fight breaks out between the two. The laughter of the two echoes, with only the background of the Christmas songs that she had chosen for the diner. The atmosphere makes them forget all responsibility and any problems they may have in their lives, enjoying the now.

At one point, she finds herself close enough to jump on his back, throwing snow in his face, sending them both crashing to the ground.

“Man, that was cruel” He replies as they both laugh, trying to wipe any traces of snow off his face, getting help from (Y/N).

The touches are subtle, simply to help you toss the snow accumulation. But they are like electrical charges running through their bodies, making the girl lose herself in the immensity of his blue eyes. Linking each freckle, as if they were true stars.

The laughter ends, they don't think to get up from that pile of snow, exchanging only caresses on their faces.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks staring at her lips, which part in a smile causing him to mirror her.

“Please” She replies as he cups her face with both of his hands. It's a slow kiss, in which the two are at ease and taking the opportunity to get to know each other. Like the true classic Christmas movies, she would be crying watching right now.

They part with a few pecks and smiles at sight. “Merry Christmas” She whispers.

“Merry Christmas sweetie” He whispers back pulling her in for another kiss.

[lyssahlyssah]

Obey Me! The Present

a/n: not suitable for work

Well, this took a week of my life, but it's ok! It's obviously something I needed to get off my chest (ahem). I hope you enjoy. 🟣🔵⚫

pairing: F!MC x Belphegor, category: (very) not suitable for work, warnings: some angst, virgin sex, penetration, oral sex, teasing, man-eating petunias. description: Belphie give F!MC the present she's always wanted. wordcount: 2.1k

"Is there anything else I can do for you for your birthday? Being your present and all. "

In your room, Belphie stands in front of you with his usual coy smile. Tall and gorgeous, he cocks his head to one side causing hair to fall into his violet eyes. He confidently holds your gaze.  As the gaze lingers, his smile deepens, playfully suggestive.

Today is your birthday and you've spent it on a date with Belphie. Feeling guilty after forgetting to buy you anything, he had cleverly volunteered to be your present, granting you any wishes you wanted.

Excited by his creativity (and the prospect of time with him alone), you had taken full advantage, first visiting the planetarium and then the botanical gardens. You'd laughed together, played around, took naps under a tree with his head in your lap. At the botanical gardens, he'd even rescued you from man-eating petunias after you took a wrong turn, and had shamelessly teased you about it since. Everything was effortless and fun when you were together.

And now, looking at his smiling face, you reflected on how far the two of you'd come. This wasn't Belphie from long ago in the attic; the angry and vengeful demon that once tried to kill you, heart twisted with hate from the loss of his beloved sister. No, he had changed. As time had gone on, he had warmed to the whole world, even to his older brother Lucifer, whom he had once admitted hating to the point of murder. He was now letting people to get close to him again. And especially you. He had opened the door to his heart and was inviting you in.

Because of the complicated history you shared, a special bond grew between you. His aloofness drew your open and loving nature like a moth to a flame, and you clicked like magnets due to your differences. Over any of the other brothers, he made you feel comfortable. Facing him now, you realized you've fallen hard for the infamous sloth demon. It was for those reasons, a response to his question immediately floated to your lips.

"Kiss me", you say, giving him a smile of your own.

"Sure", he agrees, a blush on his cheeks. Your lips meet. It's soft and sweet. Somehow, even though you aren't sure where he found the time between naps to become this way, Belphie is an incredible kisser.

His lips push down on yours with a little more force, then abruptly pull back, leaving you breathless. "Is that all?" he asks. "In that case, I'll give myself to you every day" his eyes crinkle in a smile, ever teasing.

You wet your lips, heart pattering in your chest. You did want more from him...a lot more.  Now or never. you think. You catch his hand and hold it. "Ah...Belphie...actually, what I want instead, is to give m-myself....to you." you stammer a little in getting it out. His eyes widen as he realizes what you're insinuating. Silence.

"MC...you sure? With me?" Belphie stares back at you, no longer joking. He pauses. "Why me? Why not Lucifer...or...or...The Great Mammon?" he says, with a sarcastic flourish.

When he sees your face drop, he immediately apologizes and runs a hand through his thick hair, ruffling it. His voice softens. "I'm sorry...I've been angry for so long, you know? Sometimes it just comes out when I don't mean it to."

He takes your hand again and pulls you to the bed where you sit down together. Color rises in his cheeks. "Really though...I've lied to you, I've manipulated you. Not that long ago...I even tried to kill you. Why am I the one you want for this?" He searches your face for an answer. 

"You're my master, I can't refuse you, and I'd be crazy to anyway, but...why me?" Standing up, he paces a few feet in a circle, then sits down again. You've rarely seen him this worked up; it's obvious he still hasn't totally forgiven himself for hurting you.

"I love you Belphie", the words fall out of your mouth. Your eyes widen. You search your feelings and know it isn't a lie. His eyes are wide too. "Do...do you mean that?" he questions, leaning back.

You nod, "I need you, Belphie. I feel safe with you; I know you'd never hurt me now. And...I know you need me too". You continue, your voice low. "I want you. More than anyone else".

The words visibly shake him. He drops his head, staring into his lap, then slowly brings his head back up and gazes at you. You're taken aback by the open desire you see there. It's as if a mask has fallen off and you're seeing the real him for the first time.

When he speaks, it's slowly, deliberately.

"I want to know you that way, MC...More intimately than anyone ever has." His eyes start to glow a fierce purple. "You're mine, and I want to be your first. I want to give you something to remember me by when you go back to the human world." You swallow hard, your heart starting to race and nod.

He leans forward, takes your face between his hands, and kisses you. And again. Deeply, tongue reaching hungrily into your mouth. You whimper against his lips, full of want.

You give yourself over completely to his touch. His hands are on your face, guiding the movement of your heads. It feels so good, all the strength leaves you, and you fully let him hold you up. Between kisses, he makes small sounds of passion.

"You drive me crazy" he murmurs, looking into your eyes. A thrill runs up your spine. He's here, fully here - with you. No distance. Not a trace of sleepiness. In this moment of closeness, Belphie has completely overcome his sin.

You gasp as his fingers effortlessly snap off the button to your jeans with an audible pop. "Oops", he says, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

He leans you back onto the covers. Continuing to kiss you, he slides his hand into your jeans and caresses your lower stomach, playing with the hollow of your hip bone. Ticklish, you sharply draw in a breath, causing him to smile at you. "Don't be nervous" he says reassuringly. "I'll take care of you".

He sides your pants down, and then completely takes them off. You shiver, all at once feeling vulnerable.

"Mmmm..." He murmurs, looking over your body. "You're so beautiful. I've dreamed about getting to touch you like this". He reverently slides his hands up and down your thighs, your hips, your waist. Goosebumps raise up at his touch.

Holding your gaze, he leans down and pulls your shirt over your head then sits upright and does the same for himself. His hair is even more disheveled afterward and the thought of it being that way because you're in bed together turns you on.

Even though you've napped together endlessly, you've never seen this much of his body, and you sigh with pleasure drinking in the width of his shoulders, his flat stomach. He watches you just as avidly and the small smile returns as he sees the effect he has on you.

Leaning in, Belphie captures your lips once more in a steamy kiss. Running his hands up your shoulders, he cups your cheeks, then traces down your back and unhooks your bra. You respond by thrusting your own hands into his hair and pulling him to you.

He kisses his way down your chest and your stomach, where his lips leave little trails of fire on your skin. You try but can't remember ever feeling more aroused. He playfully nips your belly button as it goes by, and smiles when you jump and protest, eyes glinting.

Belphie stops between your legs, breathing out slowly, and kisses up one of your thighs. At the top he hugs it to his face, cheek pressing into the flesh. Pausing, he looks at you sideways and says, "I've wanted to do this since we met".

Taking his time, he hooks your panties with one finger and pulls them down. Admiring the view, he runs a finger down your core, lightly teasing your clit. You sigh, then jump when he gives a jerk. "You're so fucking wet down here" he utters in awed tones.

Seeing you so excited for him seems to unhinge him a little. Looking at your soaked slit with total attention, he raises his finger to his lips and lightly sucks off your excitement. His eyes flutter close and a low groan of desire escapes him. Leaning in, he buries his face in your folds. His soft tongue pushes roughly against your swollen clit and it's your turn to gasp.

He continues to work on you for a few minutes. The pleasure overwhelms you, but still, you want him deeper. Parts of yourself you aren't familiar with are showing up and demanding to be satisfied. You try to stretch your legs further and wider apart so his tongue can reach every needy part of you. More than happy to help, he greedily tongues your tight hole. "B-Belphie!" Your voice rises as you near your climax. He reaches one hand up and laces your fingers through his. "Go ahead, MC...I've got you, you're safe. I want to taste you when you cum." Soothed, you let yourself go fully, shuddering, waves of euphoria threatening to drown you. "Mmmm..." Belphie says contentedly. You can feel his lips as he captures every last drop on his tongue.

You collapse into the pillows as the pleasure ebbs away, but he doesn't give you time to rest. You feel manicured fingers slide into your slippery hole. At first, it's a gentle in-and-out getting you used to the sensation. You squirm, your flesh still sensitive from his earlier attentions. After a few moments, he picks up the pace and starts pushing into you faster and deeper, turning and curling the digits. Mewling with every thrust, you blush bright red, still a little self-conscious  From his place cradled between your legs, he watches your face possessively. "I love your sounds", he says.

Pleasure begins to fill your abdomen once again as you near climax, and you involuntarily start to grind against his hand, desperate to increase the tempo. Loving your impatience, he dips his head down and bites you on the inside of your thigh, near your core. Surprised by the unexpected sensation, you're pushed over the edge, launching into oblivion for the second time. This time he can't help himself and covers your mouth in a passionate kiss, jealously swallowing your cries of pleasure.

Thoroughly ravaged, you look up at him through half-lidded eyes. Belphie looks back at you, spellbound by the state you're in. "B...Belphie", you manage to get out. "What, MC?" he softly answers. "I need you inside me", you pleadingly say to his violet eyes. He shudders and pulls back from you.

"Okay", he says, unfastening his pants button. He pulls them down and his length springs out, large, strong, and perfect. Dazzled, your mouth drops open slightly. He smiles confidently at you and crawls back up your body. Once there, he turns your hips so you're lying on your back with your hips to one side, lined up to your exposed slit on his knees. He runs his hands over your ass, squeezing it, testing its softness, before bringing his hands back to grip your hip with both hands. "Tell me if I hurt you", he says with unexpected tenderness and starts to push inside you.

Due to the position of your hips and your overall tightness, his first thrust is shallow, but the friction makes you both groan. Pulling out slowly, drawing out the pleasure, he pushes inside again, going slightly deeper. Your eyes roll back in your head. He feels blissful, way past anything you had imagined.

Using your hip to pull your ass against his lap, he starts to move more quickly. With abandon, you throw your arms against the covers above your head, your face falling to one side and breasts jiggling as the snap of his thrusts push you up and down. Also lost in pleasure, his eyes are closed and low groans rumble from his throat.

It doesn't take long for you to climax again, and then again. Your walls clenching tightly around him, each climax earns you a growl, but Belphie shows no signs of giving you mercy. Finally, even though you wish it could last forever, he thrusts deeply within you and you feel his warmth spread into your abdomen.

Completely spent, you lay together in the candlelight, your head on his chest, legs intertwined. Your core aches sweetly. He holds you close. Happier than you've felt in your entire life, you both start to drop off. As you do, you raise your head to look at him, and you see he's already asleep. Full of affection, your chin on his chest, you breathe, "Thank you for granting my wish". Seconds later, fading into darkness you hear him whisper, "I love you, too".

[issaxcharlie]

Someone To You

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Y/N and Luke have been friends for most of their lives and have already spent some time in love, but not knowing how to jump from friends to lovers, they have been stranded in that rare transition for much longer than they should, something that does not go unnoticed neither for them nor for the members of the rock band.

A lot of Luke and Y/N fluff, and a lot of friendship between Y/N and the Sunset Curve boys💖 (oh and my usual nonsense)

Word count: +3k

Songs used: Kiss me by Ed Sheeran and Follow You by Echosmith

Two in the morning and Y/N has been lying on her bed for twenty minutes trying to go back to sleep without any success. She is about to give up and go to get her journal when an unmistakable knock on the window echoes through the room.

She gets up and turns on the lamp before going to open the lock, her best friend entering the room seconds later and closing the window again before turning to her. The second they are face to face, Y/N lunges at him, entwining her legs tightly across his waist, her face buried completely in his neck, letting the familiarity of his body and scent wash over her.

“Oh god, I missed you.” He whispers in a husky voice, putting his hands on her hips and carefully kicking off his vans with his feet, then moving to her bed, dropping her gently on her usual side.

That's when he can see the girl's face with attention, her features slightly illuminated by the night lamp and making clear that she had been awake before he arrived.

“Difficult night eh?” He asks just before pushing his body forward to jump to the other side of the bed, and she lets out a sweet wholehearted laugh when he stumbles at the last second and ends up falling on his belly on her hips. “This was supposed to be way cooler and smoother.”

“I know Lu, maybe try to just walk next time?”

“Y/N, darlin’. Rockstars don’t just walk, we have to do everything with style.” He gets up and lightly kisses her on the cheek before stepping carefully around her to lie down on his side.

“My mistake, Lucas.” She teases with a smirk and he frowns before playfully sticking his tongue out at her. “Now, what happened? Whenever you appear at the window out of nowhere, it’s because you feel overwhelmed."

He analyzes what she said silently. All the times that he has entered through that window passing through his head, as well as all the hugs and cuddles received. All the years, and feelings and memories making him feel blessed to love her. "I guess you are right, you are my safe place." Y/N's face lights up, and she confidently moves closer to give him a soft kiss on the nose. “And you are mine. Now, spill, handsome.”

He smiles at the compliment, and makes an exaggerated wink that makes her snort. “My mom made me leave the house almost impossible, I was minutes away to miss the gig. I don't understand why it's so hard for her to understand that this is what I was born to do. If I want to be someone in this life, I have to continue on this path, no matter what. I don't want to die and just vanish, I want to leave a mark. We all want our lives to be great and to be remembered." Luke drops his head against the pillow and covers his eyes with his hands, letting his annoyance out.

“I get you, and you know I will always support you.”

“But…”

“But I just want you to know this. You are someone, Luke. To me, to Reggie, Alex, Bobby, and no matter how much you guys argue, you are someone to your parents. You don't need to connect with everyone to make an impact, just with the people who matter to you.”

He moves his hands behind his head and stares in silence at the ceiling for a few seconds, and then turns to see her with the most charming smile in his repertoire. “Will you come to the Orpheum after we nail the audition?” Anyone would be disconcerted by his attitude, but for Y/N it is a typical Luke Patterson defense mechanism. Whenever he feels like the conversation is getting too heavy or when he just doesn't want to respond, he drastically changes the subject with his best smile to try and distract her.

“Of course I will, It’ll be one of the most important days of your life, I would never miss it. And I would not change you singing in my ear for anything, but there is something so special when you are on stage, it is like being in front of the microphone sets your soul on fire.” She replies with a delighted smile.

"I totally get what you mean. So, you like me to sing you to sleep, huh? C’mere beautiful." He requests before trapping her against him, his calloused fingers quickly finding her hair, stroking it gently as he sings in her ear.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. Lie down with me, and hold me in your arms” He stops for a second to meet her eyes again and give her a light kiss on the forehead, before confidently singing the chorus. “Kiss me like you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved. This feels like falling in love, falling in love, falling in love.”

Y/N smiles against his neck before finally falling asleep, the peace Luke always gives her completely invading her and melting her in his arms.

In the morning Y/N snaps her eyes open when she raises her arm to wrap her best friend’s waist and finds the space empty. She sits down and finds a note on her nightstand, Luke's unmistakable handwriting peeking out due to a poorly folded sheet.

“Good morning darlin’, sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, I had to go to the last rehearsal before the auditions. After that we will pick you up to go celebrate <3

PS: you look so hot while you drool my shoulder and the pillows."

-Luke

The girl can't help but blush, and furiously examines the pillow to see if she actually did it, only to find another little note below it.

“Gotcha.” She rolls her eyes and a little laugh escapes her lips.

Today is a ridiculously important day in the lives of the boys, if they manage to be among the 10 chosen for the second part of the contest, they will compete in the legendary Orpheum for the opportunity to land a record deal.

The four of them have been working like crazy even though the situation with their families has been getting worse in recent weeks, none of them have even thought about giving up. Without much to do during her day off, Y/N allows herself to remember the feeling of being in Luke's arms, the conversation she had with Alex and Bobby just a few days before in the back of her head.

“Why are we doing this again?” Alex asks clearly annoyed while Bobby and Y/N laugh, turning to see Luke and Reggie jamming some songs across the sidewalk, in front of one of the hottest clubs in LA.

“Something about making the band better known before auditions.” she reports, as she closes the buttons on Luke's bleached jean jacket she's wearing.

“I understand that, but couldn’t he wait til tomorrow? We practiced all day, I’m tired as fuck.” The blond replies, getting irritated from exhaustion.

Bobby yawns, his eyes getting heavier as he rests his head in Y/N’s shoulder. “Muffin, I swear, your man has infinite energy.”

“He is not my man, Bobs.” She answers as she rests her head on his, ruffling his hair gently.

"Well maybe you should let him know, because he refers to you as his girl all the time." Bobby informs her, raising his head to see her reaction.

“He does?” Even in the dark both boys can see how red her cheeks are, and how the smile on her face grows with each passing second. Bobby decides to take a chance and keep teasing her.

“My girl is so insanely talented, that’s my sweet girl, my girl said this and I thought it was so freaking awesome because I’m hopelessly in love with her.”

“Man, that was so accurate. 10/10.” Alex replies while laughing, they lean in to highfive above her head, and she can't help but blush even more at her friend's words.

“You guys are the worst.” She wrinkled her nose and they both turned to see each other, agreeing silently that now is the moment to ask one of the questions they had wanted to ask her for months.

“Since we met you are in this strange relationship, in which you are both aware that you are in love with each other, but neither of you does anything. What are you waiting for?" Bobby asks, indicating Alex to support him with his eyes.

“Yeah bro after 3 years, it gets kind of old.” He adds, trying to sound cool.

“I guess, we just think it is not the right time. Since you started the band he has worked tirelessly on his career as a musician and that is what I want him to focus on. We both know what is in our hearts and for now that is more than enough.” She blurts out, trying to get her thoughts in order.

“That was so cheesy I want to die.” Alex answers in reflex, and his eyes go wide when he realizes what he said.

“Oh my God, Alex. Go away! I will never open my soul to you again.”

The girl blushes again, a small smile at the corner of her lips as she remembers how after that her friends continued to tease her with Luke and called her Mrs Patterson for the rest of the night, both she and Luke totally embarrassed when they continued to tease them in the truck on the way home. She decides to get out her notebook and try to write a song, which she hadn't done since Luke formed Sunset Curve, and by the time she finished she had just some minutes before the boys arrived.

She managed to get ready in time, but what she found when she opened the door was not what she expected. The face that greeted her was Reggie's and not Luke's as always, and the sad little smile on the bassist's face wasn't normal either.

She instantly hugs him, making soft circles with her fingertips on his iconic leather jacket.

“Don’t worry about me, sunshine, I’m fine. But he needs you.” He takes her hand and walks toward Bobby's old truck, and Y/N is even more confused when she meets his beaming smile as they climb into the back of the vehicle. Alex is smiling too, but he looks clearly anxious, and Luke is nowhere to be found.

"Can someone explain to me what happened? Where is Luke?"

“We did it, muffin!” He embraces her excitedly, his clear happiness reassuring the stressed girl.

“Congrats guys! I’m so proud of you!” He released her and she hugs Reggie with her left arm and with her free one takes Alex's hand, who takes it in his and fondly kisses her knuckles.

“Thank you Y/N, but going back to Luke, we need your help. Things didn't go as smoothly as we expected and how to put it nicely… he lost it.” The blond informs her while anxiously playing with his necklace.

“You are the one who always shows him the way.” Reggie says with a bigger smile this time.

“Okay, start the truck Bobs, my man needs me.” Alex snorts a laugh and Bobby fulfills her request after smiling teasingly at her.

“You told Bobby he wasn’t your man.” Alex remarked with a smirk, turning his head toward the back seat to look into her eyes.

“And you told the boy at the club that you didn't know Reggie so you wouldn't have to give him his number. What's your point?” She answered swiftly with a mirrored smirk.

The drummer tries to counter attack but fails miserably, instead whispers a “...Well played.” and looks back to the front of the road.

“Was he cute?” Reg asks with genuine curiosity, and they all debate whether the boy was Reggie’s type or not on the way to where Luke is.

The boys leave her in the big park where the girl already imagined her best friend was, and she walks directly to the place where they sat millions of times throughout her childhood and adolescence, in their little corner of paradise. It doesn't take her long to find a disgruntled Luke sitting against their tree with his guitar three feet away, lying on the grass.

“You look so hot when you are frustrated.” Luke looks up and calms down when he meets her eyes. “I think you are the one who needs a song to relax now.” She adds, pointing out at the guitar. He nods and she picks it up, sitting between Luke's legs, her back leaning against his chest.

She blushes as she begins to play the song she finished composing just an hour ago, grateful that he can't see her face because of the position they are in. “I thank God for you all the time. Someone who knows my faults, but loves me despite them all. And you, I'll follow you just like that. Doesn't matter how far, If I have you, I have it all.”

She feels him kissing her hair, his heart beating just as fast as her own. “I think I found my soulmate, yes I do. I think I found the one who knows me. I don't wanna think about what it'd be like without you. Anywhere, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

When the song ends she freezes for a few seconds and Luke takes the opportunity to take the guitar and move it to the side, so that he can hug her closer to him, his arms around her waist while his chin rests on her shoulder.

“Your voice always shows me the way home.” Luke whispers sweetly in her ear, and Y/N instantly remembers Reggie said something similar in the truck, which means Luke had probably already expressed that thought to his friends, causing her to melt in his arms. She guesses it’s her turn to apply the famous Luke Patterson defense mechanism.

“What happened? I know you guys did pass, Bobby was so happy he wanted to cry.”

“We passed literally with the last ticket. They said they couldn’t see Sunset Curve, just another wannabe garage band, definitely not material for the big leagues.”

“Wow, that’s rough. And how did you react?”

"Reggie and Bobby held me by the arms and Alex by the back to stop me from going berserker." She smiles softly, imagining the scene clearly, and stretches her neck to see the guitarist's face.

“Lu, what else is bothering you?” He looks deep in thought, like he's forming multiple ideas in his head.

“I don't approve of everything they said, but I think maybe they have a point. I spent so much time trying to get the band to be material for a discography that I neglected our essence."

“Okay, then what’s the next move?”

“I have an idea, but I can’t do it without you.” He admits, staring deeply at her with his beautiful hazel eyes.

“Good thing you don’t have to. Luke, remember when we first met?” She asks, trying to distract him from his problems at least for today.

“Yeah, we were six. I told you I wanted to be a rockstar, and you said Lucas wasn’t a rockstar name, that I had to change it immediately.” He recalls with a soft smile.

“After that day you got angry every time someone dared to call you by your name.” She remembers the scene with a laugh.

“You have to admit, little Y/N was wise, you wouldn't have a band if you were still a Lucas.” He chuckles, caressing her hair lovingly., and she leans at the touch.”

“From that day I knew that I always wanted to be by your side. All my life I have tried to be someone, someone for my parents, for my friends, for the public, but I have never had to try with you.

I've always been someone for you... and that's more than enough. You've always known who I am, even when I'm not sure myself. You have always been patient and have loved me unconditionally, and I want you to know that you can always expect the same from me. god, I know since I was a kid I would do anything for you. I need you, I’m tired to wait for the correct moment, because every moment with you feels right.”

“Lu… is this a love confession?”

“I- yeah. But it’s so hard, I feel so many emotions right now and I really want to kiss the hell out of yo-” Y/N pulls him towards her connecting their lips hungrily, both melting into each other's mouths. He bites her lower lip slightly and separates a few seconds to admire her face, her eyes shining with love and lust.

“Darlin’, you can admit now your thing for rockstars. That’s exactly how you see me when I’m on stage.”

“I’ll admit it as soon as you admit you pretended to drown in the pool last year so I could give you mouth-to-mouth.”

“I would never do something like that… again.” They both laugh adoringly and Luke kisses her hard, determined to make up for all the lost time.

“Hey lovebirds, it’s time to go, Alex is minutes ago to snap at Reg and I don't want to end in the middle again, Reggie bit me last time.” They part abruptly, looking up at Bobby with daggers in their eyes.

“You can’t be all annoying all the time about our relationship and then ruin a moment like that.” she says clearly frustrated.

“Wow, eager much, muffin? someone is already whipped huh?” He jokes, causing Luke to put his finger in his mouth and then in his friend's ear.

“Bobby If you don’t shut up I swear-” She starts to fight, but he interrupts her.

“Are you guys dating now?” They both turn to see each other and smile, Luke wipes his hand on Bobby's shirt as they start to walk to the truck and entwine it with Y/N’s.

“Yeah, yes we are.” He declares with a majestic smile.

“Dammit I lost the bet to Alex. He said this was finally the year and I bet on another five.”

“Five? Really?” The girl asks, unable to believe what she hears.

“What? You have been in this strange relationship for about 12 years, five more years would be easy peasy. Reggie bet that you would make your lives with someone else and meet in 20 years to realize that it was always you." He informs them as they reach the vehicle, she looks in shock for a moment but then recovers and feings anger.

“Yeah, that’s it we are walking.” She decides, pulling Luke onto the sidewalk.

“You're just looking for an excuse to make out with your new boyfriend, you never get mad at us, not even the time Reggie stuck gum in your hair.” Bobby calls her out, and Reggie rolls the window down to emphasize that it was an accident.

“Okay yeah, I want to make out with my boyfriend and stick my tongue down his throat because as you mentioned, I've been waiting for many years to be able do it. So get lost or admire the show.” Reggie quickly closes the window again, and Bobby makes a disgusted face before almost running to the driver's seat.

“I’m so in love with you.” He admits with loving eyes, and she stands on tiptoe to fill him with light kisses on the forehead, nose, cheeks and lips. “I’m so in love with you, Lu.”

“Hey darlin’, I know you said the tongue in the throat thing to scare them away but…” He tries to explain himself, but she stops him knowing exactly what he wants to say.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m kissing the hell out of you as soon as we get home.” She reassures, caressing his hand.

He lets out a big sigh of relief. “Good.” A big smile on his face while pressing her hand a little harder to make sure this is actually happening.

Thanks for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @strangerthanfanfiction713 @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc @bibliophilewednesday @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @tuttigunner @dpaccione @justalittleweirdoo

[aggravatetheaxe]

FINDERS KEEPERS - Chapter 3: This Street, That Man, This Life

Murderer. Monster. Serial killer. Abuser. Freak. These are words you would be well within your rights to use when describing Bo Sinclair. But when a trip to dispose of a body doesn’t end up quite as planned and a nameless waif enters the picture, he might have to add one more label to the list: protector. How long can Bo justify the presence of a child who so critically throws off the tenuous balance of life in Ambrose? How long can he stand it?

CW for this chapter: traumatized and/or abused children (references), child abuse (mentions, references, flashbacks), diaper changing (doesn't go into detail), Bo gets frustrated and is a little scary

This title is SAFE FOR WORK.

Soundtrack: This Street That Man This Life, Ambience

Words: 3,367

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Masterlist

***

The room was bright. The heat of the day was already beginning to creep in, and flycatchers sang at the window.

At first, Bo couldn't quite remember what had happened. He was in bed, on top of the covers, fully clothed ... it took a moment for him to notice the little girl curled up nearby. She'd scooted closer, but not by too much. Looked like both of them had barely moved during the night, completely wiped out. Shit.

Bo cursed quietly and eased out of bed. Why had he fallen asleep? Why had he done that? Stupid kid. He should've made her suck it up and sleep alone.

Coffee and something to eat was usually top priority in his morning routine, but he couldn't stand being in these clothes for one second longer, smelling like roadkill and a freshly dug grave. Wasn't like this kid hadn't fucked his routine all up anyway.

Without much thought, he left the girl behind and started toward the bathroom, shedding clothes as he went.

The best shower in history was waiting for him, hot enough to make his skin all raw and red and wash away the creeping anger. By the time he'd brushed his teeth, shaved, and returned to the bedroom, he'd almost forgotten about the kid a second time.

Underwear. Socks. T-shirt. Ring.

He debated wearing Dickies before ultimately going with jeans and a blue overshirt. Making the bed always came next, but, as though his brain was subconsciously protecting him from the reality he didn't want to face, he turned his back to it and left the room instead.

As he made his way to the stairs, he picked up the dirty clothes he'd left behind, then chucked them toward the laundry room when he entered the kitchen.

Coffee. Toast. Cereal. Milk.

He debated making an omelet before ultimately deciding he didn't want to put in the effort and settling for a couple fried eggs.

Cigarette. TV. Windows. Newspaper.

Bo sat himself down in the breakfast nook, lingering over his food and last week's paper as the morning news floated into the kitchen with the cross-breeze.

He and Vincent both had lots of work to do today ... Bo had to appraise those bikes from the last batch of victims, figure out if he wanted to break 'em down or try selling 'em off. Had to pick out good places for the new additions to the town. The rigs could probably use some maintenance. Some of the wiring to the bowling alley was overdue for an inspection...

An endless list of duties, that was all Ambrose was. Usually, Bo didn't mind. He liked having something waiting for him, having something to do with his hands, especially if he was avoiding something else. A scrap project and some deafening music was all he needed to keep his racing thoughts at bay. Blow off some steam.

Hopefully that would extend to...

He clenched his jaw as he dumped his dishes in the sink, closing out all thoughts of her. Sprite Kid, he'd started calling her in his head. Chances were, after what she'd been through, she'd sleep through the day, and he wouldn't have to deal with her. He refused to let some stranger's kid take up real-estate in his already occupied mind.

TV. Windows. Lights. Keys.

Bo checked to make sure everything was off before stepping into the front room, on his way to the door.

A figure interrupting the light at the top of the stairs gave him pause. He turned his head to see exactly what he dreaded, long socks slouched around her ankles, aluminum can in hand, big brown eyes wide and full of tears.

He and Sprite Kid stared at each other for a moment. Then, she let out a small but pathetic, mournful wail.

Something about the noise pulled Bo as surely as it irritated him. Shut up, you're gettin' to be a problem, gettin' to be a real problem— He stalked forward, chucking his keys onto the sideboard as he passed. Once at the bottom of the stairs, he planted his hands on his hips, frowning up at his newest little complication.

"What're you cryin' for?"

She said nothing, simply inhaled hitching breaths, her bottom lip trembling.

"I got work ta do. Why doncha just go back ta bed?"

With a little whine, she clutched her tummy.

Fuck. It had completely slipped his mind that he'd have to feed her again. She'd need a diaper change, too, he realized as he looked her over. Bo wiped the bottom half of his face, holding a breath before exhaling harshly and climbing the stairs.

Sprite Kid didn't move, simply allowed herself to be scooped up into his arms. Once again, he was shocked at how light she was ... even before getting lost, she must've been a skinny little thing. That thought made him prickle strangely. If he met her folks face to face, what would he even say to 'em? Feed your brat more, for starters.

Back in the bedroom, he set her down, making the bed quickly before laying a quilt down. He hadn't changed a diaper since Lester was a baby, and that had been around thirty years ... but how hard could it be?

"Up ya go," he mumbled, putting her on her back. As he rolled his sleeves to his elbows, he tried to psych himself up for the task to come. It was just a diaper. He'd touched worse. Killed people as recently as the day before yesterday, and yet...

He hadn't really been paying attention to what Vince had done last night, but how hard could it be to put on a diaper? He rolled up the soiled one, wiped her down, reapplied the zinc oxide, pulled up a fresh one. As he did, he couldn't help but remember what his twin had said—She's too old to be wearing diapers.

If she was a small four-year-old, like he suspected, he guessed that was true. Momma and Daddy had got all their sons into "big boy" underwear by their third birthdays. He didn't know a thing about child-rearing, though. Maybe she needed 'em?

Or maybe her people just didn't give a shit. Equally as likely at this point.

Once she was changed, he scooped her up again. "Let's get you fed. Whaddaya think a' that?"

"Augh," she responded, sucking the rim of the Sprite can.

Bo found himself surprised how exhausted he was already as he brought her back down to the kitchen. He set her up at the breakfast table with a glass of milk before going to the fridge, fighting the headache threatening his temples. Vincent must have noticed the sandwich left on the counter yesterday, 'cause it was magically in a baggie in the fridge.

"God bless," Bo breathed, grabbing it and returning to his charge. He presented the sandwich, using the baggie as a makeshift plate. If she got crumbs everywhere, Jonesy would probably clean them up. "A'right, eat up. Careful with the milk, we don't got no sippy cups."

He took a seat beside her, close enough that their knees were touching, just to make sure she didn't drop the glass while transferring it from the table to her sticky baby hands. Every once in a while, he'd reach out to help her, supporting the bottom of the cup; otherwise, he simply sat, fingers laced tightly, considering her.

Blowing off steam would have to wait, even as tense as he was. Finding her people had to be his priority for now, before the motorcycles or the sculptures. He'd done his part, but his initial reaction hadn't been wrong. He couldn't have a kid running around here.

First thing he'd have to do, then, was find her some proper clothes to wear. Momma had always been a fan of keeping things just in case—something he guessed had rubbed off on him a li'l bit—and he knew the basement was full of clothes from when he was little. Maybe even some from when Momma was little.

The crinkling of aluminum brought him out of his reverie. Sprite Kid had finished the remainder of her sandwich and milk and was playing with the pop can like it was a Barbie, walking it around the table.

That was ... a little sad. Kids should have toys. Here she was playing with garbage. While they were down in the basement, he could probably find—

Bo shook his head, standing from the table abruptly enough that the kid winced slightly. What the hell was he thinking? She'd be out of here by nightfall, one way or the other ... either with the cops or with her parents. He grabbed her cup, put it in the sink, and stopped to gaze out the window.

Her folks better treat her right.

He must've zoned out, 'cause the next thing he knew, someone was tugging at the back of his jeans. He turned to see Sprite Kid, holding his pants with one hand and struggling to pull up one of her socks with the other.

"Whatcha need?" He turned, looking her over. Should probably change her bandages. "You need some more Neosporin is whatcha need."

She made a face.

"Yeap, we gotta change your bandages. Then we'll get you dressed proper." He bent at the waist, arms out, and she climbed into his arms without question as usual. As he balanced her on his hip, he remarked, "I'm only carryin' you 'cause your feet're all busted up, y'know. Betcha feel like a princess, huh?"

She sighed and leaned her cheek on his shoulder, her stubbly head tickling his jaw. Something inside him twinged warmly, but he ignored it, hurrying to the upstairs bathroom. He wasn't no fuckin' babysitter.

Hydrogen peroxide. Bacitracin. Gauze pads. Bandages.

Bo went through the motions, so focused on his task that he didn't notice Vincent looming in the doorway. It was only Sprite Kid's staring that alerted him; he glanced at her, then over his shoulder, loosing a sigh.

"Vince. Ya scared the shit outta me." He looked back at the kid, rucking up her socks. "How's the wax comin'?"

A grunt. "Fine," he signed. "Do you need anything?"

"Nah. I'mmuna find some clothes for miss thing here, then drive around 'n' see if I can't figure out who she belongs to." Vincent was still and quiet, but Bo didn't think much of it as he hoisted the kid onto his hip again. "Still don't know the li'l chick's name. She won't tell me. What's your name, huh, honey?"

Before the kid could say anything—as unlikely as that was—Vincent interrupted. "Bo."

And that was all he said. Bo looked at him for a moment before his face twisted into a glower. They were twins; he didn't need to be told what Vince was trying to get at: Don't get attached. As if he didn't know that. As if it was even a possibility ... the kid hadn't even been around a full twenty-four hours, for fuck sake.

That acute anger only embarrassment could conjure burned in his chest and all the way up his neck. "Jesus Christ, what am I s'posed to do, drag her around half-dressed? God forbid I didn't leave her in the woods to die. Is that what you woulda done?"

"No."

"Then kindly get off my ass." He shouldered past his brother, walking down the hall without looking back, though he could feel Sprite Kid watching Vincent over his shoulder. "Go back downstairs and finish your fuckin' work, Vin."

Who the fuck was Vincent to judge him? He hadn't been there; he didn't know what Bo knew about the girl. He had no context, just the audacity. Of course. Vincent always had to be the voice of reason.

Well, Bo knew what he was doing. He didn't need the hands of Ambrose to guide him.

Bo descended the stairs, trying to bury his fury as he made a beeline for the basement door. When he opened it, revealing the brick stairs down, Sprite Kid pressed closer like he could protect her from the dark. He murmured an absent-minded word of comfort and flipped on the light before heading down.

The basement was more of a storage space than anything, what the family had always used in lieu of an attic. It wasn't connected to the warren of tunnels that ran through the town, which made it a bitch to clear out come rain season. Didn't matter how many damn times Bo sealed the concrete, it always seemed to flood if the rain got too high. Thankfully, there was more than enough room in the empty house to keep things when it did ... he didn't know what he'd do if he lost everything down here...

The clutter was piled high, mostly in boxes but some loose; some things stored on shelves, others stacked on old furniture or workbenches. The dust was thick under the fluorescent bulb's pale light, especially on the things that never needed to be moved. In one corner, the floor and walls were stained blue. Couple years ago now, a victim had found their way down here—ended up tipping over a paint can and none of the brothers had cared enough to scrub it away. It gave the room character, anyway. Lotta memories in this room.

You stay down here and you be quiet. You think about what you've done. You're lucky I didn't tape your nose shut, too, boy. You ruin everything!

"Stay." He set Sprite Kid at the bottom of the stairs. After what Vincent had said, the urge to put distance between himself and her was like the urge you got when you put your hand to a hot stove. When she was no longer in his arms, he felt like he could breathe again, focus.

Clothes. Shoes. Keys. Truck. Then she'd be out of his hair for good.

Bo navigated the labyrinth of boxes expertly, mumbling as he scanned the labels. He had a pretty good idea of where everything was, considering he stacked and un-stacked this mess twice a year. Still, it took him a few minutes to find the box labeled Kids Clothes at the very bottom of a tower, then a few more minutes to get to it.

By the time he opened it, he was surrounded by the boxes he'd had to move. This one was cardboard rather than plastic, large, must've been an appliance box at the beginning of its life. The musty smell of old cloth and dust filled his nostrils as he shuffled through the clothes. His and Vincent's, he realized, immediately recognizing a striped shirt he'd worn all the time.

There weren't really any girl clothes, though. He grabbed another, even older box and dug in, hoping to find some of Momma's dresses or something. There were a couple things, but they were way too big for the kid—

The sound of cardboard against cardboard almost made him jump, and he turned to see Sprite Kid digging through one of the boxes behind him. Her eyes were wide and shining with curiosity, but Bo couldn't hold back his initial reaction.

"Hey, git outta that!" He waved a hand as if to shoo her. "I told ya to stay over there."

She drew her hands to her chest quickly, shrinking back a couple steps and rounding her shoulders. The fear in her eyes was ... he couldn't really pick a word. Familiar, but not in the way he expected. She shouldn't a' been goin' through Momma's stuff. Don't want everything ruined, it's just trouble.

Bo ignored the sick feeling spreading through his chest and turned back to the first box, grabbing the first outfit that looked like it'd fit her. He tucked the clothing under one arm, then stood. Better get outta here before she decided to touch more shit that wasn't hers to touch.

He opened his arms for her. But this time, she hesitated. An uncomfortable pang of remorse mingled with irritation inside him. "C'mon, I ain't mad. Ain't gonna hurt'cha. We don't got all day, let's go."

With that bit of reassurance, she acquiesced, and they left the basement behind with her in Bo's arms once more. He clenched and unclenched his jaw as he brought her to the couch in the front room, sitting her down.

Shouldn't sting as much as it did, her shrinking away from him. Stupid kid.

He turned the feeling to bitterness, a tried and true Sinclair family tradition, barely able to conceal the anger while he helped her into jeans and a T-shirt. Just like when she'd peed herself, though, she seemed to sense it, stilling her grip on her Sprite can, avoiding eye contract, making herself smaller...

He pulled on her socks, then bright yellow rain boots. The sky was clear and would be for the rest of the week, but they were the only kids' shoes he'd found in that box. Wasn't like she'd be doing much walking anyway, considering her feet.

Once she was dressed, he sat back on his haunches to examine his work. Completing a task had calmed him down enough that he spoke again, though he may as well be speaking to a brick wall. "All them clothes are from the seventies, y'know that? Thirty years ago. I'm old."

She said nothing. Bo wondered if she even understood what he was saying. He knew better than anybody that mute didn't mean dumb, but she didn't talk with her hands like Vincent did. She was just a kid, and he had no idea how to communicate with her, no idea what was going on in that bald li'l head of hers.

He remained crouched for a few more moments before sighing and pushing up, going to get his keys from the sideboard. Time to do this thing.

"A'right, Sprite Kid. Ready ta get in the truck?" She waited for him to come pick her up, but he didn't mind. Was getting used to it at this point. On his way out the door, he grabbed a trucker hat off the coat rack, fitting it snugly over his curls. "You ever gonna tell me your name or what?"

Her big brown eyes widened, and before he understood what she was looking at, she had dropped her can and was gripping the brim of his hat with both hands.

It took a second for him to realize she was staring at the graphic on his cap, a battered old thing he'd got from a drag race event years and years ago. Maybe she liked the car on it? It used to be a blazing orange, but the color had faded—

"Bird!" The word was so clear and crisp that he had a hard time believing it'd come from her at first. Sprite Kid, who'd only made chuffs and grunts since he'd found her.

Bo was so astounded that he stopped mid-stride near the Chevy's front bumper. He stared at her before taking his hat off, looking at the text. Sweetbird 69. Some Texan team, if he remembered correctly.

"Uh ... yeah—"

"Bird!" she said again, just as clear as the first time. She patted the word on the hat, repeating it again and again. "Bird, bird, bird, bird."

Not only could she talk, she could read.

After a few more beats of staring, Bo put the hat back on. "You, uh ... you can read that, huh?" He barely took his eyes off her as he spoke, bending to retrieve her can before unlocking and opening the driver's side door.

She said nothing more, simply smiled a gap-toothed smile ... the first smile she'd offered since she'd seen Jonesy. He slid her into the passenger seat, then climbed in after, still watching her closely.

Well. Seemed there was more going on in that li'l bald head than he'd thought. Apparently she just wasn't inclined to share very often. As he turned the key in the ignition, he couldn't help the next thought that invaded his mind.

Bird. It's as good a name as any.

***

Chapter 4

Tip Jar

Masterlist