#RIP the Great Movie Ride

[sol-draws-sometimes]

This scene is so good! Used this frame as a reference but the expression is from a different frame! Just a sketch(not quick) but I like how it came out! Didn’t do it on my normal drawing app but I might make it a proper drawing in the future.

[spock-smokes-weed]

For the life of me I don’t want to be a sequels hater, because the way fans reacted to those movies really soured my opinion of Star Wars for years, and I don’t want to pile on to the garbage that those movies get.

However. I fundamentally despise the what they did to Luke and I can’t not think about it anytime I think about Luke showing up in Disney brand Star Wars stuff. 

Because now that I’ve seen the prequels, now that I have the full picture, Luke becoming a bitter and pathetic old man that fell on his own sword goes against not just the themes of the originals, but the whole damn story.

Luke is not meant to be a pathetic Obi-Wan type. He’s not supposed to be the master that failed and is stuck in his ways. We already got that with Yoda and Obi-Wan!!! Why rehash it with Luke?!????

Because like after watching the prequels, the original six movies create a pretty complete and whole story. Anakin wasn’t the chosen one, it was Luke who was the chosen one. He’s the one that brought balance to the force and destroyed the Sith. And he was able to do that because he refused to let go of his emotions and compassions. Whether Luke is literally “the chosen one” in canon, or just on a meta level, he is the one that’s going to restore the Jedi order and bring balance back to the force.

The whole point is that Luke won’t make the same mistakes that the Jedis before him did. The Jedi order fell because they were stuck in their ways and lost touch with what the Jedi were supposed to be for the galaxy. The Jedi order as it had been created the monster of Darth Vader. Their flaws are exactly what set up Anakin to fail, and the WHOLE POINT of Return of the Jedi was Luke setting him free and vowing to right the wrongs of the past. The Jedi Order under Luke was supposed to be different!!! Never in my life would Luke adhere to the no attachments rule, nor would he be so blind to the dark side of the force. Luke isn’t supposed to be Obi-Wan!!! He’s supposed to be Luke!!! He’s supposed to be the hero that never turns his back on his friends!! DOES THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP MEAN NOTHING TO YOU DISNEY

Anyway. If you like that interpretation of Luke, I’m not going to be one to poopoo on your fun. Nor am I going to loudly talk about how I hate the sequels. I’m neutral about them for the most part, aside from the butchering of Luke’s character. and like I feel so weird talking about how much I hate Luke in those movies because I know a lot of horrible people used that to be horrible to the actors online. And I don’t want to add to that.

But like idk. I just don’t like that this is the Luke was have now because Disney owns his soul. That this ending for him is “canon” now.

You may own his body Disney. But you’ll never have his spirit. Fuck you.

[laffiteslanding]

I mean, sure, roller coasters with crazy rock music blaring from the in-seat speakers are cool, but the best onboard audio any coaster has ever had is Rainbow Connection on Rip Ride Rock-it.

[dadsbongos]

jennifer's body - z.maki

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection

...

warnings - vaginal fingering *nerd emoji*, thigh riding, maki's the top as per usual, car sex, you're a whiny bitch but maki's into it, potential cum eating

word count - 2.2 K / rating - R

Maki detests a lot of things, but above every single one of those things - she detests being put on missions with you most of all.

“Eek!” Maki’s balance is hardly thrown off despite the way you rip her arm to your chest. You hug her close and push your cheek to her shoulder, “Please protect me, Maki!”

She snorts, looking down at you curled around her form, “You’re a grade two, you know? You don’t have to hide behind me.”

Feeling the impression of your lips molding into a pout against her, you ‘hmph’, continuing down the creaky, dank hall, “A grade two can still be scared!”

Naturally, yes. However, the degree of fear you commonly express makes teaming with you such a hassle. Though not necessarily because she finds it annoying.

Maki feels your skittish fingers dance down to hers, and she clasps your hand tightly. Her heart throbs uncomfortably at the idea of your poor brain all stressed and overheating, skin chilled, and throat too tight to speak. A terrible thing that is. Yes, she hates it more than anything else in the world.

So Maki walks just a pace quicker than you, ensuring she’s upfront. But no matter that, she is not the one to suffer this mission’s great blowback.

As if freshly blistering up from between the floorboards, a puffy, mushroom-shaped spore oozes from beneath your boot. Mustard yellow curd gushes onto the ground from each pore with a soft puff of orange gas into the air.

“Damn!” Maki curls an arm around your waist and tucks you behind her.

The particles cling to your nose, itching and irritating; they claw down your throat and paint over the front of your uniform.

By the time Maki has splattered the curse, you’re feverish. Still coughing up dust and reaching out for her.

“Are you okay?” she cradles your sweltering frame in her broad hands.

“Car,” you wheeze out, falling into her stronger frame, “We need to get outta here.”

Your thighs squeeze together, hips mindlessly squirming into the sticky leather of the backseat. Leaning into Maki, you take her arm again, breasts squishing against her firm muscles and pressing her hand between the clench of your thighs. Her palm digs into the meat of your inner thighs and it takes about 60% of your brain power to keep from humping her hand.

Pressing your face to her neck, you know she can feel the softness of your lips on her smooth skin. You know she can feel the hot puffs of your words, “Maki… Maki I think we should pull over…”

“What?” her cheeks go pink, eyes falling to you from beneath her lenses. Her other hand comes up to cup your cheek, it burns beneath her skin, “Talk to me, huh? What’re you feeling?”

“Hmm,” you turn into the feeling of her cupping your cheek, and your gaze finds Maki’s crinkled face. Eyes wide beneath furrowed brows, lips down in a frown, “I feel so hot, Maki, please- “ you jerk up, rutting against her hand, “Please pull over!”

The car doesn’t stop. Maki moves her hand from your cheek to press against your feverish forehead. She barks over at Ijichi, “Hey, pull over!”

You all jerk at the sudden stop before Ijichi shamefully restarts the car to more carefully move off the side of the road. He turns in the driver’s seat to look at the pair of you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You think it’s cuter when Maki does it.

Oh, Maki.

You blink up at her lazily. Lashes fluttering. She reddens more at the movement, you like that.

“Maki,” you whisper, low enough so even Ijichi can’t hear, “I think it was an aphrodisiac.”

She looks away, pointlessly, to the back support cushions behind you. Her chin tucks close to her chest and you can hear the strain in her throat to whisper back just as low, “Can you hold out until we see Ieiri?”

“Mh-hmm,” you shake your head, thighs tightening around Maki’s hand and now using 80% of your brain power to not shamelessly grind on her, “No way…”

You need her. ‘Starved in a dungeon for weeks, and you finally see a fresh loaf of bread’ kind of need.

Maki feels something ugly burrow into her chest at the idea of Ijichi seeing you so weak and bothered. And something uglier arrives when she realizes it isn’t just because you’re an impaired friend - she doesn’t even want Shoko seeing you like this if she can help it. Looking over at Ijichi, Maki jerks her head towards the door.

“Wh-what?” Ijichi stutters out, head lowering.

“Get out!” she snaps.

“Yes, ma’am!” Ijichi jumps out of the car, slamming the door shut in the process.

Maki watches him shuffle towards the trunk and stand with his back facing the vehicle. He twiddles his thumbs and stares down the empty road. She thinks he might be pouting after getting yelled at. She doesn’t spend much time on the thought before you’re sitting up on your knees.

Her hand is (sadly) free from between your legs and you drop her arm to shakily place both your hands on her shoulders. You settle onto one of her thighs, arms curling around her neck. Your nose nudges hers and you press a kiss on Maki’s cheek.

She can feel how warm you are through your thin tights. Unsurely, Maki’s hands find your hips, “What should I…?”

You hum, moving to her other cheek and kissing there, too, “I need you, Maki.”

Her hands squeeze your hips. To stop you or ground herself, she isn’t sure. Both works, probably. Right?

“You’ll regret it later,” now, Maki’s hands try lifting you off of her thigh, “It’s not a good idea.”

“No!” you wail, nails digging into Maki’s shoulders, hips stubbornly remaining in place. You rear back to bat your lashes at her again, chest rising and falling with your gasping breaths, “Won’t regret it, I promise…” your hips lower on her thick thigh, she tenses below you, “I love you, Maki,” you kiss her cheek again, hoping to tempt her, “Love you so much. Need you so bad.

90% of your brain power goes towards not humping her leg like a dog.

She’s frozen solid, your feverish cheek presses to hers and you pray it melts through her icy exterior.

“So jealous of Yuuta,” you murmur, moving to ghost your lips over hers. They’re so much softer than you thought they’d be, and they taste like cherry chapstick. The kind that reminds you of cough syrup, “Talking about him ‘n’ how strong he is… I hate it. ‘m not stronger than you, Maki, but ‘m better than Yuuta,” you feel her grin, her body jolting to life as two hands find the sides of your face, “Just wanna show you that I’m better than Yuuta.”

“You’re jealous,” she ‘tsk’s, “but you’re the one calling Okkotsu by his given name.”

“Don’t be mad…” you fight against her hold on your head and purse your lips against hers, a chaste kiss from you to her, “I love Maki, not Yuuta.”

100% of your brain power is put into your self-control. It overheats your brain and Maki can almost hear the gears churning, smell the smoke pouring from your ears when you finally give up and rut down into her thigh with a shaky gasp. You roll your hips against her thigh once again to test her reaction - she flexes her leg and her hands fly down to your hips to guide your movement.

“Are you sure?”

You sigh against her lips when your clit catches sweetly on her thigh, nodding frantically and rubbing against her thigh faster, “Please, Maki? I’ll go totally crazy if you keep making me beg…”

She snickers against your lips, pausing to kiss you again while dragging your cunt over her flexed thigh, “Sorry.”

A pitchy whine is strangled in the back of your throat, the fire in your gut only burning hotter. Quickly unsatisfied with the dulling sensation between your legs, “Need more, Maki. ‘s not enough.”

Pulling back, Maki pushes up the leg you sit on, hoping to dig out the burning spores under your skin. She tilts her head, “What should I- what do you want?”

But you simply whine in response. Throwing your head back and grinding fruitlessly against her muscled thigh.

“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, fingers abandoning your sides to dance up under your skirt, “So needy, you know that?”

“Hmph!” you lift your bobbing head to glare at the woman beneath you.

“What?” her nails bite into the snug, thin material of your tights. You gasp when the sharp pop of her fingers bursting the cloth rings out, she snickers at your doe-eyed stare, “They COMME des GARÇONS or something?”

Before you can begin jutting out your bottom lip and squirming off your tights by yourself, Maki worms her fingers through the gape and rips sideways. The warmth of her hand cups against your hot sex, the wet patch on your panties clinging to her skin. The sensation sends tingles down her spine. Down her spine and swirling around to her gut, swelling as you grind down into the heel of her palm.

“Please,” you lean down, pressing your forehead to hers. Heat fanning from your cheeks, and Maki can feel it. You know she can. You know she likes it, “Need you inside me, Maki.”

Her lithe fingers pull your panties to the side before running the pads of her middlemost fingers along your slit. Wetness glides down her skin, her head pitches up and her lips pucker. You meet her in the middle - soft and cherry-flavored - as her fingers slide inside you.

“So wet,” she muses against your lips, “I just slipped in, honey.”

“Need you,” you cant your hips down onto her fingers, “Need you so bad…”

“You really love me?” it could be teasing, but if you pry back the thickened, scarred skin beneath her uniform - you could feel that mushiness in her question. That softness of needing to know how you feel. Needing to know this isn’t a lie that some infection has conjured inside you.

“I love you!” her thumb nudges into your puffy clit, loosely swiping the characters of her name across the bundle. Fingers crooking up in an almost frenzied search for the little spot to put hearts in your eyes. You squeeze your arms tight around her neck, back arching and chest pressing close to Maki’s face, “Love you s’much, Maki! Wanna be your girl…”

She barely catches the admission over your whining moans.

“I’ll make you mine,” she juts her chin at you, “I’ll make all you mine.”

You squeal as she stirs the bubbling, electrified pot inside you, hips rocking down so you’re practically riding her fingers. Arms pulling back, you cup Maki’s soft cheeks and trap her head in place. Once again, your lips find hers.

Her wrist flexes with the force of her thrusting fingers, eagerly chasing the sensation of your velvety cunt sucking her deep inside you. The sloppy, crude sound of your wetness squelching out with every stroke inside your cunt makes her lightheaded. Her thumb quickens against your clit, and your thighs quiver on either side of her own.

“So pretty when you’re falling apart for me,” Maki rests her head against the seat, eyes lazily crawling along your form. She grins, wolfish in nature - like she could scarf you down whole if she pleased, “Really wanna be my girl, baby?”

She could.

“God, yes!” you firmly plant yourself against the heel of Maki’s palm, knocking her thumb off balance and grinding into the meat of her hand. Your juices drip down her hand as she continues to finger you in the backseat, watching the muscles in your thighs tense.

You’d let her.

“Then cum for me, yeah?”

A final press into your g-spot. One last nudge of your clit against her palm. Only one more peck of your lips to hers.

And you’re going limp, save for the unsteady twitching of your hips as the last of your release drools into Maki’s hand. Your head crashes down onto Maki’s shoulder, eyes drooping.

You yawn and Maki slowly pulls out of you, bracing her other hand against your hip to keep you from collapsing entirely. She settles you to slump fully on her lap. Her eyes stray to your cum, webbing between her fingers.

She wants it in her mouth. To slurp up the very essence of you and taste you on her tongue. But she pauses before committing.

That gas - powder? particles? poison? - could be contagious.

Though, if it were, she would’ve gotten it when kissing you, right?

But it could also be the sexual nature - the fact she’s ingesting your cum - that would spread it.

Looking down at you, your closed eyes and parted lips - if you aren’t sleeping, you’re definitely on your way. The heat is subsiding and your breathing has evened out.

There’ll be more opportunities later, she supposes. Mournfully, Maki wipes her sodden hand against her skirt before calling a shaky, flustered Ijichi back to the car.

[ravenromanova]

My little girl

Pairings: Step mom Natasha x Step daughter reader (Steve is the father)

Warnings: SMUTTTT!!!!!! DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+! Mommy kink, Strap on use, Pet names, Cheating, Fingering, Oral. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE!

Summary: Natasha cant wait to have her little girl anymore.

Kinktober Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Send me requests!!!

~

The day had started out like normal for you since you had gotten home eat with your dad and step mother, then watch movies in your room til dinner. But unfortunately right after breakfast your father had gotten a call that he was needed on a work trip ASAP. It wasn’t uncommon for your father to be whisked away by work… sometimes you thought he was cheating on your step mother with how much he was gone.

So after you hugged him by he was out of the door faster then you could blink. You were kinda sad you weren’t gonna spend halloween with him since you literally came home for that but oh well. After he left you retreated back into your room despite your step mother trying to talk to you.

About an hour or two after your father’s departure you went down for dinner. Your stomached rumbled as you smelt whatever it was Natasha had made for dinner.

“Take a seat moya lyubov ill bring it to you” She says with a smile as she hears you walk into the kitchen. You do as you’re told and sit down as the mahogany table watching the woman skate her way around the kitchen. When she was done making your plate she handed it to you with a kiss on the head and a smile.

“Thank you” The words barely made it out of your mouth since she had made you a little flustered. She noticed your flushed cheeks but didn’t say anything and sits down to eat next to you.

“So i was thinking that since your dads gone why dont we go to that haunted maze that’s in town tonight? It’ll be good to get out of the house.” Natasha asked breaking the silence the two of you were in. The thought of you and Natasha alone brought a shiver down your spine and made not so pg thoughts run through your head.

“Sure. That’s sounds better than just watching movies all night.” You agree while taking a sip of your drink and try not to choke when you see her smile.

“Great! I’ll get us tickets for around eight so after were finished go get dressed lyubov” She couldn’t contain her excitement about being able to spend time with you if she tried. Even though she was with your father she had been madly in love with you since she met you. Granted she never said anything but in light of recent events with your father she’s throwing all her resolve away.

Natasha had thought your father was cheating on her for months and, it was confirmed a month ago when he came home with a hickey and lipstick on his collar. That was when Natasha had made a plan to get back at him through you in many ways. She had started her plan last week when you came back for break. It started out with soft touches, sweet praises, small gifts and now tonight was her time to finalize her plan.

The two of you finished dinner with light conversation before you got up and got ready. You couldn’t help but put some extra effort in your appearance wanting to impress your stepmother. Black ripped jeans, a red tank top, leather jacket and boots is what you decided on along with your hair in braids. Once you stared at yourself in the mirror for five minutes you finally decided to head downstairs.

When you descended down the stairs Natasha was putting on her boots and you choked a little at how good she looked. She was wearing a grey long sleeve accompanied by a similar leather jacket to yours, black jeans and had her hair braided. Her attention turned towards you and she smiled as her heart thumped in her chest.

“You look so good dekta” She praised walking up to you keys and purse in hand. You blushed at her praise and muttered a ‘thank you’ before walking out to her car. She opened and closed your door before getting into the drivers side and driving off. The car ride was filled with the both of you singing along to halloween songs and laughing.

When she pulled into the maze your eyes widened at the decorations that lined the maze. Natasha parked the car and opened your door while holding out her hand for you. You took her hand with a smile and the two of you walked to the ticket booth.

“Hi welcome to the haunted maze of westview! How can i help you?” The woman dressed as a skeleton asked once you and Natasha approached her.

“Hi! We have two tickets for eight under Romanoff” Natasha answered the woman with her signature smile that made you swoon. The woman gave you both wristbands and told you both to have a goodnight with a smile. Natasha took your hand and started to lead you to the entrance of the maze. And of course to your lucky a zombie jumped out at you right as you entered the maze.

“Fucking shit!” You screamed as the zombie retreated back into their corner. Unknowingly when you jumped you had fully pushed your body into Natashas and her hands found home on your waist. When you realized how close you were to her you tried to pull away but she held you close.

“Stay next to me dekta i’ll protect you” She whispered in your ear and continued to walk you two through the maze hand in hand. As the two of you walked along multiple creatures jumped out at you causing you to shriek and squeal like a child. Natasha laughed everytime you screamed and jumped back into her arms.

In all reality she was loving how scared you got because you sought solace in her. She would wrap her arms around your waist and hold you close smiling to herself each time. By the time you two neared the end of the maze you were significantly scared and a mess in Natasha’s arms. But of course you couldn’t leave without one more group of creepy and disfigured creatures popping out and scaring you half to death.

“Okay can we go home now?” Your voice was starting to shake from how scared you were. Natasha took your hand and nodded before kissing your hand and bringing you to her car.

“I didn’t know it would be that intense dekta im sorry” She apologized with a look of pity in her eyes pulling you into a hig for a second. Your arms naturally found themselves wrapped around her waist and your head laid on her chest.

“It’s okay it’s not your fault im a wimp” You joke lifting your head up to look into her deep green eyes. For a moment you could’ve sworn you saw something more than just a step mother kind of love from her. And you were right and that became clear when her hand cupped your face and rubbed your cheek. She stared at you with more love and admiration than you’ve ever seen.

“Let’s get you home dekta” She whispered kissing your head then taking your hand in hers again. You gratefully take her hand and let her lead the way to her car before getting in the passenger seat. She got in the drivers side after she closed your door and drove off yet again.

Natasha kept one hand n the wheel and one hand on your thigh the whole time she drove back to your house. The two of you sat in comfortable silence during the ride home just enjoying the music on the radio. Your thoughts were running wild when she rubbed her thu,b on your thigh, the action set a straight pulsing to your core. It was hard to focus on anything with the way her hand felt on you. When she pulled into the driveway she moved her hand to your cheek and made you look at her pulling you out of your thoughts.

“When we get inside i want you to go upstairs, strip, get on the bed and wait for me” She demanded fully losing her resolve. You didn’t mutter a word but instead just nodded your head not completely understanding what’s happening. You bolted out of the car and unlocked the front door before booking it to your room.

As you ran to your room you couldn’t contain your excitement or the wetness in your panties growing. Once you finally reached your room you undressed as fast as your could and then laid on your bed waiting for her. It took her a grueling fifteen minutes before she walked into your room with a red strap on in her hand and a devilish smile.

“Good girl listening to mommy” She groaned out taking in your fair skin and pretty face. Natasha wasted no time in sauntering over to you and placing herself between your thighs. Her hands found their way to your stomach and she squeezed the soft flesh.

“So soft, So pretty baby” Her praise sent a shiver down your spine which in turn made your nipples hard. She moved her hands to your chest and rolled your nipples in between her fingers.

“Oh fuck mommy” The moan was broken as it past your lips. The arousal in between your thighs was dripping down on the sheets at this point. It was only a matter of seconds before one of your nipples was in her mouth and she sucked on it. Your back arched from the pleasure that you felt.

You aren’t quite sure how you got here but gods you were loving it. Her mouth felt so good on your chest you swear you almost came right then.

“Please fuck me mommy” You beg clawing at her back earning a chuckle from the redhead. “Please” The need was very evident in your voice.

“Okay okay okay” She laughed making her way down your body. Your glistening pussy made her groan when she came face to face with it. She wasted no time again as she stuck two fingers into you making you moan loudly.

“Oh fuck yes” You screamed when her mouth came down on your clit. Her fingers worked relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over again while sucking your clit. You were in a haze from the pleasure you felt as your orgasm came closer.

“R-Right there mommy…FUCK!” Your orgasm ripped through you like you’ve never felt before earning a satisfied moan from the older woman. The second you came on her tongue she knew she was addicted for life.

“Such a good girl dekta” Your stepmother praised rubbing small circles on your clit with her free hand while still hitting your g-spot with the other.

“M-Mommy c-cant too sensitive” The pleas fell on deaf ears as she pulled another orgasm from you. She smirked to herself and pulled her fingers out and then licking them clean.

“So fucking sweet” She continued her praises grabbing the strap securing it to her hips. Your eyes fell down to the strap and your eyes widened in excitement yet again. It was in this moment she went from your step mother to the love of your life.

“I’m gonna fuck you for real now okay sweet girl?” She asked kissing her thighs lifting them to wrap around her waist. You gladly wrapped your legs around her which brought her closer to your dripping and aching pussy. Your hands wrapped around the faux cock and directed it to you.

“Please mommy” And that plea right here is what broke all of her restraint. She slammed her cock into you making you scream out and claw at her. She picked a fast pace as she rammed herself into you.

“OH FUCK!” You screamed feeling the strap hit all the right spots. Natasha smirked as she looked down at you and saw your face contort with pleasure.

“That’s it baby take it take mommy cock” She demanded feeling her clit brush against the strap making her moan. Her moans were music to your ears and brought you closer to your thrive orgasm.

“R-Right there mommy -oh fuck-“ The sentence barely came out as you came on the strap with a shriek. You sat up and grabbed onto her and she decided to wrap her arms around your waist and fuck into you harder.

“My sweet little girl takes me so well” Natasha praised chasing her own orgasm still fucking into you hard.

“Yes mommy! All for you” You moaned attaching your lips to her neck needing to distract yourself from the pleasure. Her head fell back once you started sucking on her neck and that was all she needed to cum harder than ever.

“Such a good girl” She kissed your forehead as she laid you back on your back and fucked your through her orgasm bringing you to your fourth.

“Thank you mommy” You squeaked feeling her pull out of you slowly. She discarded the strap on the floor then laid next to you breathlessly.

“Oh im the one that should be thanking you” Her laugh came out airy as she rolled to her side to look at you. She pulled the covers over the two of you before she pulled you closer so your back was pressed against her.

“Well either way that was amazing” Your hands found their way on top of hers giving them a soft squeeze. She hummed in agreement and laid with you in a dazed state. It took you a few moments before the reality of you sleeping with your step mother hit.

“Fuck-“ You berated yourself making Natasha turn you over to face her. Her eyes were filled with concern as you kept muttering to yourself.

“What’s wrong dekta?” She asked cupping your cheeks making you look at her.

“We just had sex! And you’re married to my father! That’s what’s wrong” You sat up and ran your hand through your hair. “Oh my gods what have i done?” You ask more to yourself than her.

“Hey hey hey look at me its okay” She said softly making you shake your head in response.

“No! No! it isn’t okay!” You said in a frantic state disgusted with yourself and what you’ve done.

“Your father has been cheating on me” She finally says causing you to halt your head shaking.

“W-What?” The disbelief was hard to hide as you spoke. It’s not like the thought of your dad cheating never happened but for it to finally be confirmed shocked you.

“I found out last month.. You know his secretary? Sharon?” She asked and you nodded. “Well apparently those work trips have been to the four seasons in jersey city” Natashas voice came out smooth and soft as she spoke almost as if she didn’t care.

“Why dont you seem more upset?” Was all you were able to ask still in shock.

“Because i found someone much better to love” She answered cupping your cheek. It took you a moment to realize what or more so who she was talking about.

“M-Me?” You asked pointing to yourself with wide eyes. She shook her head yes with a smile on her face.

“Ive wanted you since the day i met you. Marrying your father was the biggest mistake of my life” The redhead admitted staring into your eyes. You smiled back at the woman nodding your head in understanding.

“So what does this mean?” Your voice was a little shaky as you spoke but she gave you a kiss to help with that.

“It means that i want a divorce from your father… And then if you want me i want to be with you” She admitted and for the first time you saw the older woman blush.

“I want you” You said quickly not giving her any time to doubt herself. Natasha smiled and brought you in for another kiss. That night you two laid together figuring out how Natasha would bring up the divorce to your father.

In the months that followed your father and Natasha got a divorce and, you and her moved to new york together during the summer so you could finish school. Natasha was more than happy to leave westview and move to the big city with you. She found a job with a private security company a month after you two settled into your new apartment.

You and your father no longer spoke since he decided to start dating sharon before his and Natashas divorce was finalized. But in all honesty you couldn’t give two fucks about your father when you are this happy.

Who knew one haunted maze would really be the start of your new life?

~The end~

A/n GUYS ITS THE 16TH! 😭 So i just had to post a nat fic in dedication. I miss our girl sm!

i do not give permission for my work to be translated or copied on other cites

[bloodibambiidoll]

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

[dearanakin]

Biker Boy - !biker Eddie Munson

As requested by my girlie anonymous friend, who gave such a great idea, here it is!! I used the details as an excuse to make this short story spicy 🥹

Summary: You and Eddie are friends with benefits. Whenever he has the chance, he always gives you a ride and everytime you hear the engine and him revving, your body goes crazy. You have a kink he doesn't know, so maybe it's time to finally get the word out.

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, cursing, fluffiness. +18 DNI

Word count: 2k.

His engine was revving in the distance as you heard the roar of his motorcycle approaching your neighborhood. As you're just finishing getting ready, the sound of his vehicle makes your heart do a flip, it's always automatic. The anticipation of watching him riding his machine always made its way in. You run to the front door as soon as he pulls over on your sidewalk.

You watch as he leans his bike to one side and dismounts gracefully, your stomach sinking from the view. Clad in his black leather jacket, Eddie was wearing ripped jeans - as always -, white sneakers and leather gloves. Oh, the leather gloves. They certainly did things to you.

You and your friend became closer over the past months, then you had the greatest idea of becoming friends with benefits. Something your friends didn't quite understand because you both decided you'd be exclusive to each other. Robin would always say it kinda gives away the term, because you wouldn't date other people.

The metalhead had his face hidden under the helmet, only showing the end of his hair and his big brown chocolate eyes. Everything just sends shivers down your spine. As soon as he got rid of the helmet, his hair flung revealing a mop of tousled curls. His dark green motorcycle had fat tires, decorated with a silly amount of stickers of every kind; bands, movies, games. 

He had a gin, although he wasn't the biggest fan of a party. He promised he would only go because it was Steve's, and because his friend got into college. 

"Hey sweet thing," he greeted you with a small kiss on your forehead. You gave him some space to get inside your house, leaving the helmet on the coffee table and taking his jacket off.

"It'll be a couple of minutes, just finishing my makeup". He only then noticed how pretty you were looking. You were wearing a tight black dress, brown boots and your hair was perfectly sat on a ponytail.

"You look too stunning to wear makeup," Eddie responded and you chuckled.

"Always such a gentleman". You took that opportunity to finally give him a proper kiss as he sat on the armrest of your couch. But then your eyes caught a glimpse of his hands still wearing the gloves.

Approaching him, you wrap your arms around his neck as he uses his right hand to tug on your waist while the other one goes to your face. The way the fabric sticks to your skin makes you immediately stiff your entire body and you've barely reached his lips, leaving only a few inches close to them.

When Eddie hears your light but recognizable moan, he looks at you lifting his eyebrows. You're almost making a fool of yourself but fuck that, you liked his hands in gloves. He didn't know that, because you never actually bothered telling him you had an actual kink. It's not like he never asked, he was always pretty curious to know your deepest secrets about your sex life.

"That was quick," he joked and you tried not to laugh at his taunting.

"Shut the fuck up". As you retorted him, you gave him a wet but already forwarded kiss, sliding your tongue inside his mouth. He tasted like cherry from the candy ball he usually eats after smoking. The tobacco smoke was lingering on his entire body, as well as his cheap perfume you love.

Eddie slid his hand down your body and gripped your hips before loosening his touch, threatening to remove his gloves. You desperately held his hands and shook your head. He tried to comprehend just what the hell you wanted.

"Keep the gloves," you begged. The man was barely existing and yet you were feeling like you were turning into jelly just at the thought of the leather touching your skin.

He smirked and raised his eyebrows, teasing you. "These? Huh". The way he reacted to it gave him an idea you haven't thought of yet, and still he was already light-years ahead of you. Eddie firmly grasped your waist and swung you, making you sit at the exact spot he was sitting.

He assaulted you with his feral tongue, liking yours and pulling your lower lip between his teeth. Boy, did he become another man after that. Using his left hand, Eddie started sliding it down your body, making sure to hold the curve under your breast, pressing his fingertips on your waist, reaching the hem of your dress.

The kiss became sloppy as soon as he slowly lifted it to your hip. Thank God you always chose a good lingerie. This time it was a thin, soft, lace pantie he was about to pull to the side. Before he did his main show, the curly haired metalhead squeezed your thigh and ripped a small mewl from your mouth against his.

His tone became husky and his cherry breath hit against your skin. "It's a shame I can't feel how wet you are right now. But I'm guessing you're soaking already". You whined by the feeling of his middle finger opening your folds, rubbing your wet skin with tenderness first. Eddie was always gentle, sometimes he rushed things, but you were headed to a party, so this one had to be fast.

Without warning, he made his way with his middle finger into you and you tightened your walls against his gloved digit. "Oh, fuck, Eddie". You cried out, your lips were parted. You were too busy to actually kiss him, but he was also focused on something else as well.

"Jesus, baby. You're so dirty," he breathed out against your ear. Eddie stuck his index finger to your cunt, along with the other, and the leather surely made it feel different from anything else.

His pace was calm, but the minute he felt you were used to the dressed fingers, he started to speed up, curling both, so they would hit your perfect spot. You're having a hard time breathing in and out, his thumb was rubbing against your swollen clit with so much desire.

Quickly, you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, facing his fat cock throbbing against his boxer. From your position, you could choose between just jerking him off or eating him whole.

You decided you would suck the life out of him. You started giving him wet kisses around his arousal, his tip, and his balls. It made him hiss, throwing his head back.

"Fuck, sweetie," he pleaded, working his fingers in a sweet, but fast motion. Eddie felt the back of your throat hit the tip and he almost stuttered, it was always hard for him to hold back his moans. He never actually lasted more than five minutes because you had the most fuckable mouth.

Bobbing your head up and down, you could still whine with his cock in your mouth, giving him a full lick as well. Your living room was quiet and the only sounds that could be heard was from his finger pumping and your moaning, along with the sucking.

Eddie was focusing on rubbing your clit ever so slowly, while his fingers worked harder and faster inside you. He used his plump lips to keep them on the top of your head, while pulling a handful of your hair with his free hand.

You didn't have boundaries at this point. You were both so close and so intimate, you would even fuck on a balcony, if you had one. Alone in a room, you were free to use your hands and your mouth deliberately. Just like now.

Almost gagging on his length, you made sure to grip on his cock, hollowing your cheeks making enough pressure for him to gasp so loud, he almost fainted. "Oh God, I'm gonna cum," he cried.

You never left the smirk on your face because you knew how good you were with your mouth, and he was always reassuring you. Eddie, on the other hand, was trying to not break down from your blowjob, keeping his fingers curled hitting your spot. It didn't take longer for your walls to start clenching around him.

He gripped your clit with his thumb, rubbing it faster, sloppy movements as he started to feel his own pleasure hitting the roof. You felt his cock twitch inside your mouth and you kept your pace, bobbing your head, until he released his juices down your throat.

Eddie loved seeing how you always swallowed him until the very last drop of it. He squinted his eyes closed, relishing every ounce of your saliva on his throbbing skin. "Fuck, you're so good," the metalhead whispered.

Not so much behind, you felt him pinching your clit while using only his middle finger inside you, watching as you bucked your hips, rocking them against his digits. "Ah, Munson". Using his last name as a resource to help you reach your own climax always worked and he knew that, he never complained.

As you throw your head back against the back of the couch, Eddie assaults your neck, nibbling on the skin, feeling your walls throb and clench around his gloved finger. "Yeah, cum for me baby girl". He always alternates his pet names towards you, so you would never know what would come next.

Your entire body squirmed around his fingers, your clit became too sensitive to the touch and your cunt closed tightly on his finger. You felt too weak on your knees and you were thankful for sitting on the couch, even though Eddie was still holding your neck.

You felt empty as soon as he removed his fingers from you and your stomach flipped. God, you felt so needy sometimes.

He zipped his pants back and pulled the belt. "You made such a mess on my glove, sweet thing".

"Good thing you have another one for us to use at the party". You respond as you fix your dress and walk to your bedroom.

You missed his reaction to your statement and he put on his glove back. It had your taste and your smell, he might as well use it as his accessory.

Ready and outside your house after a quick pornography, you stood at the side of his sleek vehicle, ensuring your safety before hopping on his bike. Next to his machine, he handed you the helmet, reaching out gently guiding you through the process.

Eddie always made sure to strap on it, so it wouldn't fall off your head during the ride, not too tight and not too loose either. "Thank you, handsome".

You swung your leg, hopping on the back of his bike, watching as the sky was casting a lavender hue over the quiet street of your neighborhood. You heard his revving and your heart jumps in, you loved it when he did that.

Just when he screeched the tires on the floor, you held your arms around his waist, placing both hands on his stomach. He loved driving too fast and he knew you hated it. Most of the time he would just speed up just a little to taunt you.

Approaching a red traffic light, Eddie slowed his vehicle, smoothly stopping as he supported both of you with one foot on the ground. As always, he turned his head slightly, resting his hands on your thighs, rubbing your knees with his gloved fingers.

You're thinking he didn't even bother to not wear the glove he used to fuck you, and you didn't know if you were actually more turned on or just feeling really repulsiveness. Either way, his endearment towards you always caught you off guard, he's too used to resting his hands on you at every fucking red light.

You smiled in return and just enjoyed his warm and steady touch, while you leaned your head against his back. As the light became green, he left his grip to hold the handlebars, speeding up the engine.

Eddie pulled up at Steve's house, the loud music was banging from a boombox inside his backyard. Before you both got inside, you reached for his wrist, gently squeezing his arm. He stopped by your side, brows furrowed.

"I'm not kidding about the glove, you better keep it clean", you pecked his lips quickly, before ringing the bell. You didn't expect him to be so close to you before responding.

"This time I'll use a special guest". You turned your head slightly, only to watch him licking his lips, teasing you. Eddie as a biker had you at his mercy, on your knees. 

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 15 - Incubus Sex]

Pairing: Dom!Yoongi x sub f.Reader x sub!Taehyung

Genre: Incubus!Yoongi, Best Friends to Lovers!Tae x OC, Supernatural!AU

Kinks: sex in a secluded winter cabin, summoning of a sex demon, Yoongi is a lot taller and beefier than them, he also has four arms <3, and he has a split tongue and demon fangs and horns and he’s hot, god I’m such a monster fucker hahaha, dirty talk, praise, good girl & good boy kink, examination play, breast play, nipple massages, cunnilingus, rimjob, thigh riding, guided male masturbation, handjob, anal fingering, male self fuck (Tae stuffs his own ass with his own balls), he also has to jerk off in front of her while she rides Yoongi’s thigh, leather kink, pussy rubbing, multiple orgasms, magical demon spit that makes them hornier, male anal sex, magical cocks (Yoongi can shapeshift his cock), he shapeshifts it to an anal toy and fucks Tae with it while Tae has to eat her out, then later they share Yoongi, she rides his face & he gets bounced on his cock, pissing from cumming too hard, tears & screams of pleasure, aftercare

Wordcount: 10.8k

a/n: all you had to do was mention the summoning of sex demon yoongi and i knew that i had to write this fadsnfan you also wanted best friends to lovers with Tae & OC sooooo this story is filled with tension and flirting and bruh unhinged sex fsdfna have fun you little whores 🖤 ps: yoongs looks way too innocent in the header bahaha

“Do you think this is a good idea? I watched horror movies which started like this”, you told your best friend two months ago when he came running to you with the idea of going on a winter holiday together.

“Horror movies aren’t real life. It’s going to be great”, he answered and the plan was set. 

You look around the place, breath coming out as white fog and nose chilly from the air. It has been snowing the entire car ride, but stopped five minutes ago. The snow sits under your feet and atop the roof of the wooden cabin. The trees carry a thick blanket as well, smaller branches bending under the weight.

The snow scrunches beside you, a deep exhale of a human follows. You turn your head, laying eyes on Taehyung’s flushed face. He is carrying both your bags, grinning from ear to ear.

“You still think this is a good idea?”

“Positivity ___, this is the best idea.”

“We stopped having signal around five kilometres back.”

“Let’s just see it as our own little digital detox.” He shoulders the bags. “Besides, this cabin has a landline.”

He walks up the three steps. You follow close behind, looking at your own feet in order not to slip and die.

“Yeah, until a serial killer decides to cut the line and murder us with an axe. I saw the movies, Tae.”

“Hush, no more talk about serial killers. This is a good idea.”

“Until it’s not.”

Taehyung turns. You collide with him, hands on his chest and lips dangerously close to touching his’. You inhale sharply, heart tightening in your chest. He is your best friend, but man, the way you feel for him would say otherwise. But that isn’t important right now. Your current situation is. You but a breath away from accidentally kissing him and him looking down at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Stop being such a nagging party pooper. This is a good idea.”

You watched his lips move as he talked. They are still moving. You don’t know what he is saying.

“___?”

“Huh?” you rip out of your trance, looking into his eyes.

He cocks his brow up at you.

“Can you unlock the door before we freeze out here?”

“Oh, uh, yeah sure”, you mumble, taking out the keys you got at the camp reception to unlock the cabin. You try to regulate your pulse while you do it, hoping that Taehyung can’t see your fingers tremble just a little. Your worries are for naught because Taehyung has his back turned to you, taking in the view.

The camp you currently find yourselves in consists of ten wooden cabins sprawled around a large lake and nestled into a valley between mountains and thick forests. If one wishes to do so, one can go ice skating on the lake or wander through the snowy woods. The mountains offer various skiing slopes and opportunities to go sledding. It was Taehyung’s idea to go on a best friend holiday together because the colder months have been stressful at both your jobs. The idea itself was amazing – not only because you could selfishly pretend that this holiday was romantic – if it wasn’t for the camp’s reputation of being as close to nature as possible. The cabin had electricity and warm water, but no internet or access to civilisation. Granted, there was the reception cabin with its restaurant, but it is five kilometres away from you behind a wall of thick forest and only reachable by a rocky road. If it wasn’t for Taehyung’s 4-wheel-drive jeep and his trusty snow chains, you most definitely would have gotten stuck already.

Taehyung called staying at this camp the perfect opportunity to forget capitalism and what it does to your nerves, you still call it a bad idea which will end in serial killer attacks.

The cabin is still chilly when you enter because there was no electrical heating installed, just one fireplace. 

“I’m freezing my ass off”, you whine, rubbing your own arms to create warmth.

“Carry the bags to our rooms. I’m getting firewood from outside”, Taehyung says and disappears through the door.

It doesn’t take him long to return to you standing in the living room with a face of horror carved deeply into your features.

“What happened? Did you see a serial killer?” he jokes, carrying big logs of wood in his arms.

“So we might have a problem and don’t lose your shit, okay?”

“Okay?”

He squats down in front of the fireplace, stacking the wood neatly.

“There is only one bed.”

He stops in his movements for a moment. You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction. The movements continue.

“I know.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach before a million butterflies lift it again.

“What do you mean you know?”

“I booked the cabin, didn’t I?”

“Yeah well, but…huh? You knew?”

“Sure I did.” He uses his lighter to start the fire, bending down to blow into the small flame until it grows and starts gnawing on the first log. He stretches out his hands, rubbing them together to warm them.

When you stay silent, he stands up and turns.

“Why? Is this a problem? We shared a bed before.”

“Yeah, when we were teens at summer camp with my mom. That’s so different.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“Yeah it is”, you throw back, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

You have a weird way of hiding your massive crush on him. Whenever there is the slightest hint of blurring the lines, you pretend to be annoyed by the situation. It is childish, you are aware of it, but you also want to minimise damage as much as possible. If Taehyung would be the first to snuff out the delusions, it would ruin you. So you make sure to always kill whatever spark might form between you and him. This technique has helped you survive with your stupid feelings for him for more than eight years now.

You were twenty when you realised that the fondness you had for him was way more than just the fondness for a friend. You were twenty one when you realised that said fondness will never be reciprocated when he got a girlfriend and proceeded to date her for five years. Granted, you dated someone as well for three years of that, but your feelings for him never went away. You were twenty six when he broke up with his girlfriend and you started to have hopes again. You were barely twenty seven when you decided to keep your feelings to yourself and only stay his best friend, you were too scared to ruin what you had.

You are twenty eight now and your feelings for him are as strong as they could ever be and pretending that blurring the lines annoys you gets harder and harder by the day. But you have to. What if you are only imagining it? What if he doesn’t feel the same?

Taehyung scrunches his brows at your reaction, crossing his arms in front of his chest as well.

“I didn’t think that the bed would be such a bother to you. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll sleep on the couch”, he says and pouts.

Now That you don’t want.

“No, it’s just…I packed my ugliest PJs, it’s embarrassing.”

He scoffs, features softening.

“You’re so weird. As if I ever cared about the state of your sleepwear. Do you wanna start with dinner?”

You take a deep breath. The situation is saved. You made sure the lines stopped blurring and he wouldn’t be angry at you.

“Sure. I’m so down for ramen tonight.”

“Nice, me too. We could go searching for herbs in the forest. To elevate the taste.”

“No, you stay here. The last time you tried to cook with herbs from the forest, you had the shits for three days.”

“How could I forget? My asshole was so raw afterwards. I swear I thought that I shat out my insides at one point.”

“Nice. Thanks for that image”, you say sarcastically.

Taehyung laughs. You join him a second later, exchanging a sneaky glance with him. He is so beautiful without even trying. If only your morals were a little more twisted, you would kiss his stupid smile away. Taehyung breaks the eye contact, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as he gets on his tiptoes to get a pot from the upper cupboard. Are your eyes deceiving you or did he gulp after he ended the eye contact?

No, don’t be ridiculous. You shake your feelings away and busy yourself with unloading the groceries you got for the week.

The next town was twelve kilometres away. You drove through it on your way to the camp. It consisted of one main road and straight lines of side roads. It had no town centre and every important shop was located along the main road. The townsfolk looked at you with grim eyes and tight lips as you rolled pass them. The clerk in the supermarket barely wanted to greet you, let alone wish you a safe journey. You called the town proof for serial killers while Taehyung called you ridiculous. You were joking of course, but it was fun to tease him a little. You liked when he threw back a witty remark.

You eat the ramen in front of the fire, sitting on a few cushions on the floor and with blankets draped over your shoulders. It is very warm and cozy and your initial distaste for the remote location was gone.

“It’s so quiet out here”, you say.

“Yeah, right?”

You and Taehyung have finished dinner by now, you have already washed the dishes and are now warming your feet by the fire, sitting next to each other. Your arms are almost touching.

Taehyung rolls his head back and closes his eyes. You study him. The fire shines onto his neck, you are so close that you can see his skin texture. You are so insane, but you swear that your tongue knows exactly how it would feel like to lick him there. He inhales deeply and exhales through his nose.

“I really needed this. Work’s been dragging me down.”

You break your eyes away from his neck, staring at the flames instead. You are such a dirty woman. 

“I get you. I’m so glad that I announced my break months ago and I could say a big fat goodbye to the projects coming in this week.”

Taehyung chuckles, “so much for team comradery.”

“Yah”, you slap his stomach gently, “you know exactly how shitty Yunjin and Mina are when it comes to being good colleagues. At least the team knew that I would be gone two months prior unlike them who announce it a week prior.”

“I know, I was just teasing you. You’re cute when you whine.”

“Sorry?”

He smiles languidly and peels one eye open to look at you.

“Nothing”, he says and closes his eye again.

You gulp, tugging at the collar of your jumper. Your face is burning hotter than the fire. You swear that you actually felt your ovaries throb at his words. You are so shocked that you have no chance to pretend to be annoyed by the blurring of lines before Taehyung already talks again.

“Thinking about all the work I left behind is glorious, you’re right. God, I can’t wait to come back to work and have it all be done by the others.”

“Why are you allowed to be a shitty colleague, but I’m not?”

“You can be a shitty colleague, I fully support that. I don’t know why you’re still staying at this shit place anyway.”

“Because it’s hard finding something new. God, do we need to discuss this right now? I’ve already been stressing about my situation enough.”

“No of course not. Sorry” He rolls his head to the front and looks at you. “No more work talk. This week is supposed to be our detox. No phones, no internet, no work. Just you and I in this little cabin in the woods where nobody can hear us.”

“If you weren’t the person closest to me, this sentence would have sounded creepy as fuck.”

He chuckles, eyes glimmering in the shine of the fire. You grin, leaning in to nudge him with your arm.

“What should we do though? Now that nobody can hear us?”

His eyes flit to your lips. You saw it clearly. Your chest tightens, your airways close up. He runs his teeth over his lower lip then whispers his words.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

His eyes flit up, connecting with yours with such intensity that your vision blurs a little. Holy shit.

“You’re being fucking creepy. Stop messing with me”, you hiss in faux annoyance, pushing at his chest.

“What did I do?” he asks.

“You’re acting like a serial killer, it’s weird”, you lie, stumbling to your feet, “I’m taking a shower.”

“What if I follow you like in Bate’s Motel? You know, stabby-stabby with my huge knife into your bare back.”

Holy shit.

“Then I’m grabbing you by the balls and dragging your ass outside to sleep in the snow.”

He laughs and then you close the door to the bathroom. 

Holy. Shit.

Things changed in the living room when you come back. Taehyung pushed the couch further away from the fire and made a circle with candles.

“What the hell are you up to now?”

He looks over his shoulder, scanning his eyes over your body.

“Cute PJs, I don’t know why you think they’re ugly.”

“The edges are frayed and I have a hole in my thigh part.”

“You can’t even see that. Come, sit next to me.”

You do so cross-legged.

“What are you doing? For real.”

“I’m making a summoning circle.”

“I’m sorry?”

He points at the book in front of him.

“Wait. You got the book? I mentioned it as a joke, you know?”

“Yeah, I got the book. Isn’t it cool? I followed the instructions just as described. We can finally talk to ghosts.”

One must know that you and Taehyung have an unhealthy obsession with the supernatural. If there is a new ghost hunting show, rest assured that you are watching it together. If there is a new book about the supernatural, rest assured that one of you will get a copy. One time you tried to go ghost hunting yourselves, but had to give up because you both got scared with the first sound and ran back to your car. The supernatural doesn’t scare you, only real humans do. Taehyung always says that bad ghosts are only bad ghosts because they were wronged by humans, which is another proof that the real evil are humans.

“Are you serious? Here?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“It’s our first night here. What if we summon an evil ghost?”

“Then we befriend them and help them find what they need.”

“You’re a dreamer if you think evil ghosts wanna be our friends.”

He pouts. He is so adorable that you give up with a chuckle.

“Fine, we can befriend evil ghosts, but if we can’t? We still have a week to go and I don’t wanna spend it fighting some evil entity.”

“No, but this spell is safe. Look, they call it the summoning of a helper. We can talk to a nice ghost.”

You read the page carefully. Taehyung was right. The spell sounded safe and besides, you were never successful in your endeavours. Of course you were a believer, but you were also a realist. Things like summoning ghosts or talking to them isn’t real. Taehyung seems so smitten by the idea however that you can’t say no to him.

“Fine, let’s do it.”

“Yay! I’m so happy!” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

“What do we have to do?”

“Hold hands and then say this sentence five times. Oh great helper we summon thee.”

“Sounds easy.” You intertwine hands with him. “Let’s do it.”

You and he hold hands and begin chanting. You keep holding hands after the chanting, staring at the candle circle. Nothing happens. You already expected it, but Taehyung seems devastated.

“Why is nothing happening?”

“Maybe we didn’t do it right.”

“Right. Let’s do it again.

“Tae no, I don’t-”

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, beginning to chant a second time. You give up with a sigh and join him. As expected, nothing happens.

“I don’t get it. Something should happen”, he murmurs, flipping through the book.

“Well, we tried. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to happen.”

“No, let’s try it one more time please.”

“Tae, I don’t think-”

Yet again you aren’t allowed to finish your sentence, except that it wasn’t Taehyung who interrupted you this time around. The fireplace and the candles roar up in bright flames and heat. A blinding flash of light for just a second then the room is normal again. Except for the man sitting on a chair in the middle of the candle circle. He has a cup of tea against his lips, looking surprised as if he was dragged from where he was before.

You and Taehyung scream instantly, jumping to your feet and clutching each other.

The man screams back at you, but he does it mockingly.

“Aaah! I get it, I get it. Why are we screaming?” he calls over your voices.

“What the fuck just happened?!”

“Tae what did we do?!”

You and he turn to each other, holding hands.

“What the fuck?!” you yell at each other.

“Yeah, what the fuck?” the man agrees then snaps into his fingers, “are you done now? Cause I have a lot to say.”

You and Taehyung turn to him. He looks human except for his golden eyes and black horns. His hair is just as dark and his sculpted, big body is wrapped in black leather clothes and a black cape. He is wearing leather gloves and boots.

“You have no manners, going about summoning me and screaming at my face. Who do you think me to be?” the man? Ghost? Demon? scolds, wagging his finger.

“What, what, who are you?” Taehyung stutters, clutching your hands tightly.

“What, what, wha-”, he mocks him in a high pitched voice and then continues with sass, “I don’t know, you tell me. You were the ones who summoned me in the middle of my morning tea, you rude brats”, the stranger spits and lifts his cup, “do you think I’m available twenty four seven? Of course not, I have my working hours as well.”

“___ can you understand him too?” Taehyung whispers to you.

“Yeah, I can”, you whisper back.

“Well duh. Last time I checked, I can speak whatever language you mortals speak. Tch, you are more ill mannered than I thought you to be, fucking brats.”

You and Taehyung exchange a look. It is Taehyung who steps closer to the stranger, keeping you safe behind him.

“Be welcome oh good ghost. What can we call thee? How may we help thee cross into the afterlife?”

The stranger studies Taehyung’s features and bursts out a laughter with such enthusiasm that Taehyung’s hair moves from his breath. He should be disgusted by it, but something about the scent in his breath makes Taehyung feel dizzy and almost drawn to the stranger.

“Me a ghost? You amuse me, mortal. My name is Salaryoongilzus from and to Melzons, First of his Name and Devourer of Souls, but you can call me Yoongi for short.” He bows. “At your service.”

You step next to Taehyung.

“And what are you?”

“Guess.”

You pick up the book from the floor. Taehyung presses his head against yours as he reads the page with you.

“Taehyung”, you gasp and point at a small writing which suddenly appeared at the bottom of the page. “Demon. We summoned a demon.”

“A helper demon?”

“Look. A sex helper demon.”

Your heads snap up simultaneously, eyes widened and lips parted.

The demon Yoongi tips his imaginary hat, carrying a sly smirk on his lips.

“We summoned a succubus? How did that happen?”

The smirk drops from his lips. He points his finger at Taehyung.

“Rude brat, I’m an incubus. Succubus is for female sex demons, I’m an incubus, a male sex demon. Get your terminology straight.”

“An incubus?”

“Do I look like I have tits and a cunt to you?”

Taehyung studies him.

“Obviously I don’t. Go look at your girlfriend if you aren’t sure how such body parts look like.”

“No she isn’t my girlfriend.” “He isn’t my boyfriend.”

Yoongi, the incubus, blurts out laughter again, pointing his finger between you and Taehyung.

“Now this is interesting. You aren’t dating and yet you have so much sexual energy between you, it is as if you have been fucking for years.”

You and Taehyung exchange an awkward yet tension filled look. Somehow the room got hotter.

“Oh? Ohoho, this is really interesting.” Yoongi says and sits down on his chair. He crosses his legs and sips on his tea. “So you two are friends?”

“Best friends.”

“Best friends and you had feelings for each for how many years?”

It gets more and more difficult to exchange a look with Taehyung. It feels like your heart is beating out of your chest, beating even harder when you see how red his cheeks have become.

“You didn’t know?! Hah!” Yoongi slaps his own knee as he laughs, stomping his feet excitedly. “This is great. Best friends who have been pretending as if blurring the lines was a normal thing to do between friends. Tell me how many times have you jerked off to each other’s image?”

“Excuse me?” “I wouldn’t dare!”

Yoongi smirks knowingly. He takes a calm sip of his tea.

“Fine”, he says and stands up. “You convinced me to stay. Cases like yours are too nourishing to miss out on. Couples, you see, have weak sexual energies to feast on. Only a few are delicious after years together, but most produce bitter energies. They tired each other out and summon me for help in fixing their sex life and I have to make do with what shitty energies they still have left. But best friends? Best friends who have been dreaming of fucking each other for years? Now that is the kind of energy I fucking love”, he says and licks over his lips. His tongue is split like that of a snake and behind his pouty lips, a set of fangs is glimmering in the lights.

“But…” you begin and look at Taehyung. He can’t look at you, breathing heavier than he normally does. You are panting as well, but know that whatever is happening to you and him is the influence of the sex demon. You wave your hands at him as if he was an insect you tried to swat away. “Shoo, go away.”

He chuckles, “adorable.”

“We don’t need your help. Shoo.”

“Yes you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have summoned me.”

“Well, it was an accident.”

“Nope, it wasn’t.”

“Yes! It was. We don’t need help from a sex demon.”

“Too bad, I’m not leaving. A deal’s a fucking deal, even if I wanted to leave I can’t unless I fucked both of you to satisfaction.”

“What? But we didn’t ask for that.”

“Honey, you summoned a helper and I was the one being summoned. You know what that means, don’t you?” The demon steps closer to you. So close in fact that you get dizzy from his sweetened breath and feel weak from his intense stare. 

You barely shake your head, feeling hot between your legs.

“It means the one thing you both needed help with the most, was sex. Or lack thereof in your sad case. If you needed help gardening, a little gardening helper would have appeared. If you needed help killing someone, an assassin demon would have appeared. But instead I’m here now. An incubus, the goddamn personification of sex.” He reaches out and brushes the back of his hand down your cheek.

You whimper, knees buckling.

“Deny it all you want, but you two are long due for a good fucking.”

You moan, taking a step closer as you chase his kiss.

“___”, Taehyung stops you from crossing the candle circle, pulling you back to him, “don’t go to him. Who knows what he will do to you.”

Yoongi lifts his hands in defeat, “don’t worry, I’m a good boy. You know, centuries ago we were, let’s say, a little more free in how we took humans. But you know, modernisation and human rights and being civil beings, blah blah blah, basically means that we can now only do what the human subconsciously consents to.” He rolls his eyes. “One gets a new boss one time and the entire system is renewed. You should have been there when the reforms happened. There was so much bloodshed”, he laughs, “but oh well, rules are rules. If you aren’t secretly craving for something, I can’t do it to you. Deal is a deal.”

“Okay?” Taehyung cocks his brow up.

Yoongi sits down and sips on his tea. 

“You don’t believe me? Go ask your girlfriend. She’s been leaking into her little pants ever since your little feelings came to light.” 

“Huh?” “No, I’m not!”

Taehyung gawks at you. You meet his eyes, feeling hot in embarrassment.

“I’m not!” you insist.

Yoongi chuckles.

“Don’t laugh, I’m not!” You wave your hands again. “Shoo, the holy word compels you, leave. Whatever that holy word may be for you.”

“Religion isn’t going to work on me, doll. Humans made it up to pretend as if they were better than others and to have an excuse to greedily take money from the helpless in the name of their gods. I’m staying and you are getting fucked.”

“___, battle plan”, Taehyung says and takes your hand to drag you to the bedroom.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere”, Yoongi singsongs, sipping his tea afterwards. He leans further into his chair, sighing in relaxation.

Taehyung closes the door and locks it. He turns to you with his folded hands in front of his lips. A second later, he uses them to point at you.

“So we may have fucked up.”

“Well duh, we did! There is a bloody incubus in our living room! That’s what you get from experimenting”, you exclaim and push at his chest. 

“What I get? Excuse me? You were in on the plan!" 

“Yes, because I thought that it would be a scam! Summoning of ghosts isn’t real! It never was.” 

“How dare you”, he gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls.

“I said what I said.” 

He pouts and crosses his arms. You huff out air, mirroring his stance. You share a moment of intense silence, both suddenly reliving what the demon told you. You fluster at the same time, breaking eye contact. 

Taehyung is the first to be brave enough to speak up.

“Fact is, we have an incubus in our living room and he won’t leave until he fucked us.”

“I know, that’s insane Tae.”

“It is, but we won’t get him away any other way.”

“You’re not actually suggesting we take his offer?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I mean, why not? It’s not like he was that wrong. We haven’t been laid in a long time.”

“Speak for yourself, mister.”

“Well, did you?” he challenges with a cock of his brow.

“No”, you mumble and lower your head in defeat.

“See? We take the deal, get it over with and he leaves. Done. And then we burn the book and never speak of tonight again.”

What he says makes sense. It’s insane, but it makes sense.

“Fine.” You give in. “How are we doing this? Taking turns in the bedroom while the other waits outside?” 

“Or we could…” he looks at your lips.

“You’re joking”, you gasp, feeling drawn to him.

Taehyung smiles awkwardly and rubs his neck nervously.

“I mean, was he that off?”

“No, I mean yes, I mean no. I mean, I don’t know.” 

Taehyung steps closer and takes your hands. Your breath hitches, your skin tingles. He caresses your knuckles.

“He wasn’t off as far as I’m concerned”, he confesses in a soft voice, eyes racing between yours.

“Tae, holy fuck this is…”

“...insane? Yeah, but also freeing. I’ve been carrying these feelings with me for years and I swear I wanted to use this holiday to finally confess to you. Granted, I wanted to take you on a star watching walk and confess to you under the moon, but I guess accidentally summoning a sex demon who discovers our secret is more our style.”

You laugh. He laughs with you. It sheds both of you of so much nervous weight on your shoulders. 

“Yeah, I guess it is”, you agree.

A moment of silence. Taehyung closes the distance, stubbing your nose with his. You sigh and close your eyes, lips parting as you chase his kiss. Taehyung, who understood the signal, takes it and kisses you. 

Not one second is wasted before you and he find your rhythm and your hands melt deep into the other’s softness. It isn’t long after that the kiss becomes heated. Perhaps it is the influence of the sex demon or the sheer attraction to each other, but you begin moaning and groping each other hungrily. 

“Stop wait, stop”, you break it.

Taehyung whimpers softly, chasing your kiss as his big hands knead your buttocks.

“Don’t stop this please. I dreamed of this for years, please”, he begs, lips brushing your cheek as he seeks your kiss.

“Tae, the incubus.”

“Right. We should probably see if he’s still there.”

Despite not wanting to, you break the moment for the sake of getting rid of your living room problem. You hold hands, opening the bedroom door together. You peak out. 

“Hello”, Yoongi coos, wiggling his fingers.

“Shit”, the door slams close. You and Taehyung exchange a look. “Tae fuck, this is actually happening.” 

“I guess it is.”

“This is insane.”

“It is.”

“Okay, I’m doing it.”

Taehyung hugs your arm, “do it.”

You and he open the door and enter the living room.

“Rude. Slamming doors isn’t very civil of you”, Yoongi says, studying the way Taehyung clutches you. The scent of your sexual energies became stronger ever since you were in the bedroom. He can’t wait to feast on it.

You and Taehyung stand in front of the demon, buffing your chests to appear stronger.

“If we do this, can you promise us to leave afterwards?” 

“Demons don’t make promises, but a deal is a deal. Yes I will leave afterwards. Are we done now? I could have made myself another cup of tea in the time you two brats were talking. I’m bored.” 

“Give us a moment”, Taehyung says and turns to you. He takes your hands, squeezing them tightly. 

“Tae”, you whisper, gazing into his eyes.

“Do you really want to do this?” 

“Yes, I do. You?”

“I do, yeah. Just…” he cradles your face. “...whatever happens, I love you.”

“I love you too, Tae. I have loved you since-”

“Yeah, yeah we get it. You two are so in love. Shut up and let’s get to fucking. I’m not here to listen to you yap to each other about feelings.” 

You click your tongue in annoyance, turning to the demon. Taehyung does the same.

“First Mister Yoongi from and to something”, you say, snapping your fingers, “you’re rude and impatient. And second of all, if we agree to your deal, are you going to destroy our souls?” 

Yoongi smirks in amusement, “you’re a feisty one, I like you already.”

“Answer my question.”

Yoongi lifts his hands in defeat, “fine. No, I am not going to destroy your souls. As I said before, I will be feasting on the sexual energies you are creating. It will be painless, unless you want it to hurt”, he explains and flashes his fangs playfully.

You gulp, taking a step back. You look at Taehyung.

“Dude, he’s, like, really doing it to me. The fangs thing was hot”, you tell him.

“I know, right?” 

Yoongi chuckles, “you flatter me.” 

It is Taehyung who speaks up next, “if you eat our sexual energies, does it mean that we won’t have any left for the future?”

“Mortals and their endless questions”, Yoongi says under his breath, massaging the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. He takes a deep breath and talks with annoyance in his deep voice, “no this will not happen. Don’t be stupid.”

Taehyung pouts, glancing at you.

“He wasn’t being hot to me, did you see that?”

“Yeah, rude.”

“I can be hot if you want me to”, Yoongi says and grabs Taehyung by the wrist to drag him close. 

Taehyung stumbles with a surprised squeak, moaning a second later when Yoongi drags his split tongue up the side of his neck. Taehyung presses his legs together, twisting Yoongi’s shirt. 

You gulp. This is so hot to look at, but also, you need to save Taehyung.

“Hey, leave him. We didn’t say yes to the deal yet”, you spit and drag Taehyung out of the demon’s claws. 

Taehyung stumbles, colliding with your body, weakened and dizzy. He drops his head on your shoulder, panting heavily. 

Yoongi studies him with a knowing smirk.

“For the sake of your friend, say yes. I don’t think he can take a lot more.” 

“Tae, are you okay?” 

“I need sex, ___, I’m”, he presses his lips to your neck, kissing it sloppily. “Holy fuck, I want you. Holy fuck, I…”

“Tae...” you mewl, eyes threatening to close and skin tingling like crazy. You wanted this for years. It feels so good. 

“Hey! Stop that, I’m still here!” Yoongi snaps you out of it in a sharp voice. 

You and Taehyung look at him.

“Should we?”

“I think we should.”

“Fine”, you say, “we will agree to the terms we just discussed.”

The flames flicker aggressively, somewhere far away, a bell tolls. Yoongi smiles triumphantly and claps into his hands.

“The deal has been made. Wonderful. Let’s get started.” 

“So how are we going to do this?” 

“You are going to listen to me. I will tell you what to do.”

“And if we do and we’re done, you’ll leave?” 

“Promise”, Yoongi says and smiles wickedly. 

“Fine. Then let’s get this over with”, you say and squeeze Taehyung’s hand.

“Wonderful.” Yoongi claps into his hands. “First things first, you two are too clothed. Get naked and let me see what I have to work with”, he says, busy with taking off his gloves. He throws them over the chair, stretching out his fingers.

You and Taehyung exchange a shy look. You never saw each other naked before. You saw each other in swimwear but that’s it.

“The time to be shy has passed. Get naked before I rip it off of you”, Yoongi orders sharply. 

“I love you, yeah?” Taehyung says.

“I love you too.” 

“I guess, this is happening.” 

“Turn around, let’s do it like that.”

You and he turn your backs to each other and start to undress. 

“Mortals are fascinating. You are about to get fucked and yet you are still shy.” 

“Shut up.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I like you. You’re exciting.” 

“Tch whatever. I’m naked, Tae. You?”

“Me too.” 

“I’m turning.”

“Okay. Three, two, one.”

You and Taehyung gasp, eyes widening in awe. This is him. Naked and turned on. This is you. Naked and turned on. 

“Holy fuck Tae, you’re so handsome. I…” your eyes trail off to his cock. “Damn this is…wow.”

“You’re so beautiful too. I can’t believe you’re real”, he says, eyes flitting between your tits and your pussy. “You are the most beautiful woman to ever exist.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I do. I-”

“We get it, you’re in love. Fucking hell, mortals are so emotional”, Yoongi says and steps out of the candle circle. 

“You can do that?” 

“Well duh, you made a deal”, he dismisses you and presses himself between you and Taehyung. “Now let’s see.” 

He turns to you first. 

"Stay still.”

He touches your tits, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. His palms are so soft and warm, his hands are human but big. So big and masculine. His fingers are so long, currently pinching and rubbing your nipples. 

You can only handle it by grabbing his lower arms and whimpering softly. They are strong and muscular, his body is so warm. You feel dizzy.

“A good pair of tits. Turn.” He says and does it for you. 

He touches your back and arms. Each second turns you on more and more to the point where you can barely stand up. 

“Pretty back. I bet your little friend fantasised about cumming on it a dozen times before.”

“Ah..”

“Mhm, you liked that, didn’t you? Such a needy girl”, Yoongi taunts and grabs your hip. He puts his other hand on your head and pushes you down until you are bent over. 

“Ah geez, warn me. I didn’t stretch.” 

“Too bad”, Yoongi says and falls to his knees, now eye to eye with your ass. He spreads it, making you mewl in embarrassment because you know for a fact that Taehyung looks as well. 

You know because he moaned softly when Yoongi revealed you. 

“Pretty hole, but not virgin. Not done by a real cock though. Dirty girl, do you like stuffing toys up your hole?” Yoongi coos.

“I uhm”, you begin writhing, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t flee, I’m not done”, Yoongi orders and sticks out his tongue to drag it over your hole.

“Ah, oh god”, you get out, falling to your knees because it felt too good. 

Yoongi sees no problem in it, grabbing your hips to pull you into a doggy position. You are more exposed like this, mewling into the floor. 

“Such a pretty hole and a pretty cunt to go with it”, he rasps, tracing every inch of it with his long fingers. “So wet.” He licks his fingers. “So sweet”, he growls, sending shivers through you. 

“Please”, you beg, pushing your hips closer to him.

“Good. Done.” Yoongi however abandons you, standing up and turning to Taehyung. 

With wobbly knees you turn as well, kneeling as you look up at them. Yoongi is a lot taller than Taehyung, commanding the room without having to try.

Taehyung looked at you first, but changes it when Yoongi touches his pecs. He looks up at him, panting nervously and making puppy eyes at him.

“Now you. I heard the disgusting things you were thinking as I examined her. You’re a dirty one, aren’t you?” 

Taehyung gulps. 

“Yes you are, but also a pretty one. Good pecs with pretty nipples”, Yoongi says as he rubs them. “Tongue out.” 

Taehyung obeys. 

Yoongi inspects it and hums.

“Good. Back in.”

Taehyung obeys. Yoongi runs his hands down his torso and grabs his cock. 

Taehyung moans, thrusting into his touch and grabbing bundles of his shirt. 

“You have an impressive cock for a human. It may rival that of a demon.”

“Ah, please.” 

Yoongi squeezes his tip until it leaks, picks it up and licks it.

“Sweet. Both of you. How pleasing. Turn”, he says and does it for Taehyung.

The latter falls to his knees all on his own, getting into doggy position with his ass stuck high into the air. 

“Holy shit”, you get out under your breath, eyes glued to his exposed hole. The view gets denied of you very soon when Yoongi kneels down and therefore shields you from it. You scoot to the side, greedily wanting more. 

“Someone seems to be willing. Pretty hole and would you look at that? Not virgin either.” 

Your pussy throbs. Taehyung looks at you with submissive puppy eyes, fingers trying to grasp you. You reach out, hooking your fingers with him. He holds you so desperately, turning you on with it.

“Not done by a human either. Look at that, you and ___ can share toys from now on”, Yoongi says and bends down to lick his hole. 

Taehyung moans with such utter and raw pleasure that you feel dizzy. Even his eyes go out of focus and cross a little. He looks as if he wanted this exact thing done to him for years, as if he was just waiting for someone to lick his hole. He presses back, smothering Yoongi with his ass this way.

He chuckles and breaks away, split tongue dripping saliva.

“Someone is very eager. How interesting.” 

He stands up, leaving Taehyung in his agony. 

“Get up, the both of you. I’m done with my examination. I know exactly what to do to you.”

You manage to get up quicker. Taehyung is still too wobbly to do so, only managing to get to his knees. 

“That will have to do. Mortals are so weak”, Yoongi says and sits down on his chair. He spreads his legs in a commanding, masculine way, shifting his eyes to you. “Come here, pretty girl.” 

You obey his command without hesitation. His spit is still sticking to you and has been gradually ruining you more and more. You feel enchanted, wanting to obey whatever command he has for you. 

“Sit”, he orders, patting his thigh. 

You obey.

“Nono, so you can face him.” 

“Sorry, yes”, you correct the position. 

Yoongi grabs your hips and pulls you down the last few inches. You moan loudly at the first contact, back arching and fingers digging into his sculpted thigh. The leather is so rough against your sensitive pussy, his hands are paradise as they hold your hips. 

“Move.” 

You obey his orders, legs trembling as fiery pleasure courses through you. 

“Good girl. Now, you are going to touch yourself to the view of her.”

“What?” Taehyung croaks, eyes glued to your body and how it moves on Yoongi’s thigh. Your breasts looks so ravishing like this. Taehyung craves a taste of them.

“You heard me. Show her what you were doing whenever you jerked off to her.” 

“But I-”

“Don’t try to deny it. I know you lied. You touched yourself to her too many times to count “

“Tae”, you whimper, meeting his eyes. 

You look so blissed out, so shaken by pleasure. Taehyung draws closer, reaching out to cup your cheek. You lean into his touch, trembling on Yoongi’s thigh.

“Tae…”

“I’m sorry, he’s right. I just-”

“Less words, more actions. Fucking touch yourself before I decide to force you”, Yoongi spits.

“Do as he says Tae, please”, you breathe, holding his cheeks, “please do it for me, please.” 

“___”, Taehyung moans, chasing you. Your lips are almost touching, you share the same air. He is looking at your mouth, right hand dropping to his cock. 

You moan with him as he begins touching himself. Your hips stutter on Yoongi’s thigh, your pussy throbs and leaks. Yoongi basks in the view with a dirty smirk, massaging your hips and waist with his strong, masculine hands. 

“She likes this, pretty boy. Her cunt is so wet on my thigh. Keep touching yourself”, he purrs.

Taehyung croaks your name, lips claiming yours in a kiss. He can’t bear it any other way. Yoongi was right. Taehyung jerked off to the fantasy of you too many times to count. He really, really tried not to, but his mind betrayed him sometimes. He touched himself, thinking about how it would be to kiss you, to touch you and be touched in return, to experience pleasure with you and be with you naked. 

He has all of it right now and Taehyung is in heaven. He pumps his cock very slowly, despite wanting to go fast. He has to go slow however, otherwise he would climax way too soon. This is his dream and it excites him way too much. 

You break the kiss, overwhelmed by your own heaven. Your foreheads rest together, it hasn't been long but you are both a little sweaty already. 

“Tae, this is…”

“I know, it is…heaven, you’re heaven.” 

“No, you are. Ah Tae, your cock.” 

Taehyung looks down at what you see, moaning deeply. His cock is flushed and hardened, leaking onto his long fingers as he massages it quickly. 

“You’re so sexy, oh god, Tae your cock is so sexy”, you mewl, sliding your hands to his hair to twist bundles of it.

“Ah, I can’t”, Taehyung gasps, having to stop. “When you’re watching me, I just. I can’t handle it.”

“Your cock is throbbing.”

“___ please, you’re not making it easier”, Taehyung laughs breathily.

You straighten up, looking over your shoulder. Yoongi locks eyes with you. Dark marks have appeared on his features, pulsing like a slow heartbeat. This must be the sign that he is feeding on your energies. 

“What do you want, pretty girl?” he asks in a terribly seductive voice.

“Help him last longer, please.” 

Yoongi smirks. He snaps his fingers, letting a bottle of lube appear out of a cloud of red smoke. He throws it at Taehyung, who catches it. 

“She wanted help. this is it. Get on your knees and show her how you fuck your own asshole. Don’t touch your cock unless I tell you to.” 

You shake on Yoongi’s thigh, giving him needy puppy eyes. He purrs, smiling darkly. He inches closer to you, inhaling through his mouth with deep rumbles in his chest. They aren’t human, clearly signs of your delicious pleasure coursing through him.

“Don’t waste time. Just the mention of it makes her taste heavenly.” 

“Yoongi”, you mewl, writhing in embarrassment. He purrs and holds your hips to guide them for now. 

“Be a good girl and look at him. I know you want to.” 

You obey his order gladly. The view which meets you there almost makes you regret turning around. Not because it is awful, but because it is so sexy that you have to lift your hips in order not to orgasm. Yoongi supports you, panting heavily from the sweet scents meeting his nose. So delicious, you taste so delicious. Your cunt keeps dripping on him. How delicious.

Taehyung is already kneeling, sticking his ass into the air and having two fingers buried inside. He pumps them in and out in a smooth rhythm, whimpering softly each time he bottoms out. 

Not in your wildest dreams could you have ever imagined that this view would be your reality one day. His fingers are long and skinny, but seem so thick in his hole. He is tanner around his rim than the rest of his body, but whenever he pulls his digits out and his hole moves around them, pink skin is revealed. 

“Holy fuck, Tae”, you get out, dropping on Yoongi’s thigh to get off to the view. You dig your nails into his leather pants, face scrunching in bliss. Each movement is electric, reaching every inch of your body. “Holy fuck, you are so hot. Baby, does this feel good?” 

“Yes, feels so good”, Taehyung whimpers, voice surprisingly high-pitched for his normally baritone timbre.

“Keep doing that, you’re doing so good.” 

Taehyung mewls your name, ass pressing back onto his fingers. This is everything he ever wished for. He spills tears onto the rug, curling his toes. This is his dream. 

You suddenly feel lips on your shoulder and strong hands cradling your tits. Shivering, you lean into Yoongi, closing your eyes halfway. 

“You’ve got a dominant side in you, don’t you? Good girl, you struck me as someone like that from the very beginning”, he rasps, rubbing your nipples slowly.

“Fuck”, you croak, leaning back into him. You can’t really grind on him like this, but it is for the best. You would orgasm way too soon if you kept going. His magic touch and the view of Taehyung are simply too powerful of a combination.

Yoongi purrs, letting you rest against his big, muscular body. He loves how small you are on his lap. Humans are so tiny and fragile in comparison to demons. Yoongi really gets off to the size imbalance, especially when it’s such a delicious feed as you and Taehyung. 

He wraps his strong arm around you, tracing your stomach and playing with your pubes while his other hand plays with your tits. 

“Do you like this, pretty girl?” he asks you in a purr.

“So much. Every touch…”

“Turns you on more. I know, that’s what I do to you”, he rasps and shifts his eyes to Taehyung. “I'll let you in on one of his little secrets, yeah?” he whispers.

You nod your head.

“Go ahead, Taehyung. Play with your cock.”

“Fuck. Yes”, Taehyung gets out and pulls his fingers free. His hole gapes slightly, looking so empty. 

Taehyung closes his lubed up fingers around his balls, spreading it on them messily. Once he is happy with the feel of it, he takes them and does the unthinkable thing of putting them up his own ass. 

“What the fuck?” you get out. 

“___”, Taehyung moans, pushing in the second one as well. He seems to struggle at first before his fragile hole gives up and takes it. The skin of his balls is stretched, his rim is pulsing and his hips are pushing back. 

“What the fuck? Taehyung you- oh my god, holy fuck.” 

“Isn’t this marvellous? This isn’t the first time he stuffs his own balls up his asshole. He thought about it for minutes. What does this do to you, pretty girl?” Yoongi taunts.

“I have to cum”, you croak, spilling tears. 

“She has to cum. Do you hear that, pretty boy? Your little self fuck is making your best friend cum.” 

“___”, Taehyung moans, jerking off his cock as his balls get squeezed in his tight, pulsing ass. The sensations are orgasmic, making his legs shake and head turn. 

“Taehyung”, you whimper, legs shaking as well and head dizzy beyond repair. Yoongi slides his fingers to your clit and rubs it. You squeal, arching your back. This was too much. He breaks you for the first time this evening. 

“Good girl, scream for me. Good girl”, Yoongi talks you through it, head pounding from the intense feed. How sweet your orgasm tastes, how much it nourishes him. He feels greedy for more. He will make you orgasm again. He just decided. He cannot miss out on more of this power. 

Taehyung begins begging as he realises what happens. 

“Please I have to cum too. Please can I cum please?” 

“Tell us what you fantasize about most and I’ll let you cum.”

“Eating her out! Please, I have to cum please”, Taehyung blurts out, arching his back. 

You sob softly, twitching on Yoongi’s thigh. Your orgasm died down but nothing changed. Yoongi works his magic on you and you are his sexual prisoner. You don’t feel any ounce of satisfaction from your high, on the contrary, you want another one and another one and, and, and. Please.

“Can you see that? She likes it. Mhm pretty girl, do you like that?” 

“Yes, like it please.”

“Good”, Yoongi stands up with you in his arms. He denies you of another orgasm like this, ignoring the whines you let out for the sake of lying you down on the floor. 

Taehyung watches it happen, hand still around his cock because he is confused. He tugs his balls out of his hole, eyes glued to your body as it gets shoved around by Yoongi.

Yoongi grabs your legs, spreading them forcefully. He purrs, eyes flickering at the view of your wet cunt.

“Do it. Show her what you want to do most.” 

Taehyung obeys, scrambling to your side. He exchanges places with Yoongi and gets on all fours. 

“I just…this is a dream”, he says, gazing at your puffy, wet lips. You are so turned on that the normally translucent excitement almost took on a slight white and creamy texture to it. Taehyung wants to taste every droplet of it. 

“Tae please”, you whimper, opening your legs further.

“I will treat you so right from now on, my baby. Holy fuck”, he croaks and lowers himself to your cunt. 

“Tae!” You scream up, arching your back and gripping his hair. It is ridiculous but you orgasm with the first lick. 

Taehyung wants to stop and look, but Yoongi doesn’t let him. He places his hand over yours and pushes his head down.

“Don’t slack”, he orders, voice dark and demonic from the feed he is experiencing. “Keep fucking going no matter what.” 

Taehyung mewls, spilling tears. He wraps his arms around your thighs, hands rubbing your sides, and obeys Yoongi’s orders. He uses his entire mouth to please you, tongue kissing your pulsing cunt as if it was his life’s purpose to do so. And right now it was. 

He dreamt about giving you head so many times that he stopped counting. Sometimes when you were at his place and you watched a movie with your legs on his couch, he imagined how it would be like to lie down between them and pleasure you as you watched the movie. He fantasised about warming your clit with his mouth, fantasised tongue fucking your hole, fantasised about tasting every inch of you.

And now it is his reality and he loves it so much that he tears up. Your thighs are shaking, your hips keep bucking up and your fingers twist his hair. You also taste like heaven. Sweet, intense, perfect. Taehyung slurps and gurgles, drinking your heavenly nectar with deep moans and happy mewls.

“This feels so good, oh god”, you get out between having to moan and having to gasp for air.

It has been a while since you felt a mouth on your pussy. Casual sex just didn’t do it for you and so you stopped seeking it. So this right now is your paradise. Out of all the things, you missed getting head the most. Getting head from Taehyung? The very reason why you currently exists. 

His lips are soft and warm, rubbing over your sensitive spots as much as they suck on them. His tongue is even softer and warmer and so fucking wet, tracing your pussy and licking every single inch. He uses the flat of it as he worships your lips and uses the tip of it as he fucks your hole. For your clit, he uses a mixture of his tip and the flat of it, following it up with a suck and purrs around it. 

Now that you had this first exciting orgasm behind you, you can really savour every second of it. Granted, it is still insanely difficult not to climax again. 

“Tae, I love this so much, Tae”, you moan, floating on bliss. 

Taehyung mewls, looking up at you. Your head is rolled to the side, giving him a view of your blissed out expression. Your eyes are closed, your lips are parted, your brows tightened. 

“He thinks that you’re beautiful right now”, Yoongi tells you. 

Taehyung mewls in agreement, nodding his head.

“Tae”, you whimper, writhing in pleasure. Your pussy throbs in his mouth, feeding him more of your sweet nectar. 

“She wants you to play with her tits.”

Taehyung obeys, reaching up to cradle your breasts and massage them.

“Ah!” you arch your back, hands slipping from his hair to instead drop next to your head and ball to fists. 

Taehyung moans, having to close his eyes. This is too exciting. Your soft breasts are like heaven in his hands. He massages them as gently as possible, moving especially tenderly around your nipples. 

You react in throbs of your pussy and arches of your back, moaning so sweetly he feels high on you. 

“Good boy, keep doing that”, Yoongi praises, giving his back a kiss before he abandons his side to fulfil his wish. 

Taehyung has been thinking it so loudly that Yoongi almost smacked the back of his head. He opens his pants and pulls it down far enough so his heavy cock would be free. He prepares it with a thick layer of lube. 

“For the future, you don’t have to scream your fantasies at me. I can hear you just right”, he hisses and punishes him by pushing his cock into his tight hole. Not that this is a real punishment, this is exactly what Taehyung wanted. 

The latter falls forward, moaning into your pussy with such enthusiasm that you have to lift your head to check.

“Holy fuck”, you croak, gawking in disbelief. 

Taehyung’s neck is bend in a weird way as his face is smothered in your pussy. His hips are held up by Yoongi forcing him to keep kneeling as he very clearly drills his cock into his ass.

He smiles at you darkly, flashing you his fangs this way. Taehyung shakes and writhes with each thrust, bruising your breasts accidentally from needing to hold something. He mewls so much, mouth sucking on your clit more than he does anything else. As if he needs to soothe himself.

“Are you-”

“-hurting him? Of course not, pretty girl. I can make myself fit in the tightest hole without pain.”

“Are you using magic?” 

“What do you think?” he asks and pulls Taehyung’s up by his hair. His back arches, you get a view of his messy face and the utter bliss on it. He thrusts into him, forcing a scream out of him. “Does this look like he is in pain?” Yoongi taunts, making Taehyung scream with each hard thrust.

“No”, you whimper, trying to rub your legs together for stimulation. 

Yoongi notices, smiling darkly. 

“Good girl, you don’t have to scream your thoughts to get them heard”, he says and picks up Taehyung easily. He never stops bouncing him on his cock even as he changes position. He falls down next to you, lifting Taehyung off his cock to turn him. 

“Yoongi, your cock”, you gasp.

It is long and thick and looks more like a big butt toy than a real cock. He has five engorged segments going from small to huge. 

“I’m simply shaping it to how he wants it to feel. Seems like your pretty friend wants to be fucked by a huge textured cock”, Yoongi rasps and sinks Taehyung down on it. 

It is insane how easily he takes his massive cock. One by one the swollen segments disappear in Taehyung and he seems to moan louder and louder with each. Once Yoongi bottoms out, you swear that Taehyung seems as if he reached enlightenment. His eyes are rolled back, his head tilted and his mouth agape. Yoongi helps him stay in this state by lifting and sinking his body, fucking him like this. It forces his cock to bounce and slap his own tummy repeatedly, spreading the wet mess he leaks everywhere.

“Do you like this? Do you like seeing him like this?” Yoongi rasps, looking at you. 

You are so close like this that you can smell his sweet breath. He is actually so beautiful for a demon. His features are so delicate and pretty and insanely addicting to look at. 

“I like it so much.” 

“Mhm, you’re such a pretty girl”, Yoongi rasps, “go ahead, I heard your wish.” 

“Thank you, oh god”, you croak and scramble to your knees.

“Although, being called someone with a pretty face is a new for me”, Yoongi chuckles, fixing his head so you can sit on his face.

You mewl in acknowledgement, gasping a second later when Yoongi pulls you down on his long tongue. You look at where he holds you, moaning in surprise when two pairs of arms greet you. One pair is busy bouncing Taehyung on his cock, while the other is busy holding you down on his face. 

“Holy fuck.”

Yoongi chuckles knowingly, scrambling your thoughts a second later with his tongue. 

You scream up, matching Taehyung’s volume. The next moments are unable to be brought onto paper because they are unable to stay in your minds anyway. All you and Taehyung know is that you feel pleasure like you have never felt before. It is normally easy to talk during sex, even in the most passionate of scenes, but as you share Yoongi, you truly can't talk. The only thing wanting to leave your throats are screams and moans and sobs. Neither of you has experienced such pleasure before and soon you find yourselves holding each other as Yoongi ruins you from below.

You swear that you already orgasmed twice on his tongue and you can’t stop doing it. He is a lot hotter than Taehyung and so much wetter. His spit is clearly magical, seeping deep into your skin and making you feel as if you are high. He also seems to be everywhere at once. You feel him on your clit, your lips, your hole, your g-spot and even tickling your cervix. And it happens at the same time, constantly. It feels so good that you almost want to flee and yet you can’t because you crave more and more and more of his touch.  

Taehyung feels just as ruined. From the moment Yoongi entered him, he lost all control over his body. He is so huge and long and yet doesn’t hurt. Not even when he forcefully claimed his small hole, did he hurt. He felt like heaven from the very beginning and this heaven seems to grow more and more the longer he bounces him on his cock. Taehyung doesn’t know how many times he already orgasmed, but he can’t stop. He is so filled up, so stretched out, so fucked. Each of Yoongi’s swollen segments stuffs him more and increases the pleasure. His prostate stopped being the only sensitive part as Yoongi’s leaking slit spreads his magical juice on his walls and turns them as sensitive as his prostate. Perhaps even more sensitive. Taehyung truly feels his textured cock everywhere and he swears he might never recover.

“Yoongi, I have to- I think I have to- to pee”, you finally get out, digging your nails into Taehyung’s back as you hold him close.

“Me too! Me too!” Taehyung screams into your shoulder, shaking uncontrollably. 

Yoongi merely growls and holds you tighter, forcing you and Taehyung to orgasm so hard that you piss yourselves. Yoongi shoots his heavy load up Taehyung’s ass from the sweet taste of your combined sexual energies, growling into your cunt demonically.

He knows from the way you and Taehyung writhe afterwards that his job is complete. You are pleased beyond repair. He lifts you and Taehyung off of him and carries you to the couch. He lies you down in a way so that your leaking holes would drip on the floor and not the cushions. You are both gaping, although Taehyung definitely takes the crown. The view pleases Yoongi a great deal. He did a good job.

“Breathe and hold each other until you feel better.” 

You and Taehyung cuddle each other, shivering in a good way. It feels so good to be with each other after such intense sex.

Yoongi pets your heads, using all four hands for it.

“You both did well.” 

He straightens up, crossing his four arms in front of his big chest. He snaps his fingers, making a table of food and water appear.

“Try to hydrate and eat something once you can move again. Talk about tonight, I heard it helps mortals bond.”

You and Taehyung mewl softly, drooling on each other. Yoongi studies the ruined states of you.

“I did good. I was thorough”, he says and nods his head, “my job here is done. I won’t ask you if you liked it because I know you did.” 

He turns his back to you and walks to the candle circle. 

“You will feel stronger and healthier in the days to come because I filled you with my nectar. Use it to fuck each other, it will feel better to you. Or don’t fuck and talk, mortals are so emotional how disgusting. Just fuck, seriously, it’s more fun.”

He steps inside the circle. 

“Yoongi”, you croak, eyes barely wanting to open. 

He looks over his shoulder, “yes, pretty girl?” 

“Can we see you again?” 

He smiles wickedly. The candles burn brightly, somewhere far away a bell tolls. His wicked smile grows. 

“In your dreams”, Yoongi hisses and disappears. 

You and Taehyung both know that this wasn’t meant as an insult, but a promise. You just made a deal with the fucking devil.

[seat-safety-switch]

By now it should be apparent to everyone that I have a particular hatred for airplanes. They're like buses, I complain, in that someone else drives them and they're boring, but they cost five hundred times as much.

Thing is, I'm trying to better myself, look at my biases, get over my long-held hatred for a fellow internal combustion engine. That's why I decided to enter into flight school for the day, in order to get a better appreciation about planes. Sure, it cost a lot of money, but that's why rich people leave their credit cards in their cars when they think I'm the valet.

My initial training went well. Nobody suspected that I was a secret car driver. I soon realized I was not alone: out in the parking lot were several other cars. Nobody had brought their own plane to plane lessons.

Soon, I was ripping up the skies in a Beechcraft Bonanza. Sure, I could have picked an airplane that wasn't renowned for being an unreliable dentist-killer, but it looked very lonely sitting there on the very ass-end of the tarmac with weeds growing through its canopy. Also, I think my savvy choice impressed my flight trainer, Aerial "Anne" Anderson, who now knew that she was dealing with someone with poor impulse control. And if I've learned anything from Hollywood, it's the reckless hot-shot pilots with poor impulse control that survive to the end of the movie and get to ride a cool sport-bike.

So, how did it turn out? Not great: I blew my cover. After I made a successful landing, I started driving ("taxiing," because it costs a lot of money) the plane to Arby's. I wanted to pick up some Bacon Beef 'N Cheddars for the rest of the class to ingratiate myself: we all know they are the secret food that all pilots crave from their godlike perspective in the skies above us mortals. Turns out it doesn't fit in the drive-through for shit. Fuel economy wasn't great either.

[milla984]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)

Word Count: 5.4k

This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”

You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”

She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions. 

“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”

You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.

“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.” 

Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”

“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.

The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.

“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”

Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.

“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”

This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.

“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”

“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”

Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.

“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”

You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”

Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back. 

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 

Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.

Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.

“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.

You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.

“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack. 

His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.

Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.

“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”

“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”

The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.

“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”

He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.

You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”

Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome. 

He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.

“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”

“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”

“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words. 

“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”

“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”

He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”

“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”

Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”

“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume. 

Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.

Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble. 

Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment. 

You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.

You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.

Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you. 

He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.

He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.

You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper. 

For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.

You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task. 

You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—

“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”

You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”

The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted. 

“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.

You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”

Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it. 

You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.

You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.

You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.

When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.

“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”

“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.

You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.

You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.

He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close. 

Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.

You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.

The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.

“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”

Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”

“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.

You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom. 

You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin. 

You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?

Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 

You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.

“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.

He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”

His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before. 

“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”

Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.

You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”

“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”

In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.

“Spencer…”

“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication. 

“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”

Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”

He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.

If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”

“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”

You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”

The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.

You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”

“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.

He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots. 

You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”

He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.

“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.

You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.

He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”

“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him. 

“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off. 

His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”

You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.

“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.

You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.

You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”

Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.

He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”  

“You like it?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement. 

All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!” 

Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.

He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.

“Spence, I need more…” 

He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.

When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”

He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”

“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.

You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded. 

He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected. 

Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.

“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor. 

He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls. 

“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”

He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”

“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”

“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”

“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”

He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”

This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."

NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.

[dre6ming]

Kiss it better

Part of “The delicate beginning rush” (click for the whole series) can be read in it’s own

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader

Warning: hard language, curses, aggression, mentions of blood, assault

Plot: while visiting Austin on set of the bike rides something not so great happens, that has Austin pull out his protective side

Word count: 1.8k

Masterlist

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A/n: this was a request so if you have some more feel free to send them to me

"Do you know how much I love you?" Austin asks, kissing my cheek, the facial hair he had to grow for the role making me giggle with the way it tickles my soft skin. "I think in might have and idea about it." I say, turning my head slightly and catching his lips in a warm kiss, tasting his breath on my tongue. My heart beats so fast I can almost hear it in my ears, as he adjusts his hand, to hold my lower back better making sure I don't fall off the bike. He's filming for the movie Bike riders and I'm just passing through, visiting for the month, which has been great since we often get to fool around the set in between filming.

 "I think I might go to your trailer and get some sleep, I'm kinda tired." I tell him, brushing my hands through his hair, pulling slightly at the root, making him groan. "Ok, want me to walk you?" Austin helps me get off the bike safely. "You think they'll let you keep it after you're done?" I ask referring to his bike, praying for a 'yes' "Probably not." He shakes his head and I pout, truly disappointed. "That's too bad, maybe I'll buy you one for your birthday!" I say absentmindedly, walking my hand over the handle of the bike. Austin chuckles, pulling me in a tight hug. "Ok sugar mama, if that's what you want to waste your pension on." He jokes shrugging his shoulders, making me laugh with my head thrown back. "Well baby, if you behave." His lips catch mine and I sigh into the kiss, biting his bottom lip, smiling when I hear him groan. 

"Ok I'm going now, you need to get back to work." I say, patting his chest. Austin opens his mouth to say something, but doesn't get to as he gets called back to set and I giggle at his frustration, going past him. I wink at him and get to walking to his trailer, already dreaming of the soft bed enveloping me whole. On my way, a dude I've never seen before, waves my way, nodding his head at me, a strange grin on. I can't lie, but I usually don't pay mind to such behavior, but somehow this interaction makes shivers climb up my spine and the hair to on the back of my neck to rise.

 "Hi gorgeous!" He approaches me and I try to act like I don't see him, taking a few steps to my right hoping he'd get the note and leave me alone. "Hey!" He whistles at me trying to get my attention. "You deaf or somethin girl?" He asks lifer coming my way. "I'm just not interested, ok can you leave me be?" I ask hoping he'll give up. "So what maybe I can change your mind, huh?" He says, coming my way aggressively. I feel my bones shake with fear and I try to move away from him, while trying to remember everything I learned in self defense class, but all that seems to be useless now. "I don't know you ok?" I say, picking up my pace, not running just yet, thinking if I should turn back where I came from. 

While I'm in my head sweating my decision, the guy catches my wrist in his hand and pulls me towards him. I wince at the way his grip on my wrist twists my joint and shoots pain up my arm. "Let me go!" I try to rip my arm out of his hold but, he's to strong. "Oh come on baby, just a kiss, maybe I'll grab a boob or two, they look gorgeous" my free hand goes to cover my chest and I look frantically around to see if there's anyone that can help me, but there isn't. Panic is high in me and the smirk the guy has on his face, makes my blood turn to ice in my veins. "Help, someone help me!" I shout as loud as I can, before he slaps me across the face. The hit takes me off balance and in doing so, he brings me flush to him, putting his hand over my mouth and the other around my waist. With my hands free I start to hit him anywhere I can, but he's big so he doesn't even budge. "You cunt! Stop fucking hitting me!" He growls at me, his spit hitting my cheek. 

I can't see anything, tears are flowing down my face and I'm struggling to breathe with his hand on my mouth. I can see all the ways this might go and I'm terrified. Suddenly I'm roughly shaken and he lets go of me, so I fall to the ground, my legs numb. "Shh , hey it's fine!" I hear a muffled voice say and I feel hands on my arms trying to grab at me, I scream and push away, closing my eyes, bringing my knees to my chest and crying. I hear a bunch of commotion around me, but I'm scared to move, so I just sit there, formed into a ball. 

I feel a set of arms wrap around me and I flinch away. "Shh baby, Y/n it's me, it's Austin." I hear softly and I lunch at him, throwing my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his neck. "I swear to you I want to kill that motherfucker, I hope my fist fucking stays on his face for the rest of his scum bag life." He sounds so angry, but his touch is so warm and comforting. "I I I'm sssorry" I stammer from crying, nuzzling my face in his chest. "Don't you dare apologize. Come on baby, I'll lift you up." Austin says, hooking one arm under my legs and the other on my back. He lifts me up like I weigh nothing, kissing the top of my head. 

I hear the door to his trailer open and soon enough I feel the fluffy bed under me. His hands push the hair out of my face and he uses his thumbs to wipe my tears away. "I knew I should've walked with you." He says more, to himself p, giving me a good look over, anger intensifying on his face as he notices my red wrist and probably swollen cheek. "I should go back there and give that guy more punches to take home." I shake my head and take his hands off my face, rubbing his knuckles, frowning when I see the cuts and bruises on his hands. "Aus what did you do?" I ask my voice barely a whisper. 

"Some guy from sound said he heard some girl scream for help, my mind when directly to you, I hate that I was right. I ran and when I saw him grabbing at you, I ripped him off of you, got him to the ground and punched as hard as I could, I hope I broke something, maybe his nose" he takes his hands back and goes to the sink to wet a small wash cloth, bringing it over and wiping my face. "I'll change and then we can go back to the apartment ok? They gave me two days off." He says, placing another kiss on my forehead, then quickly undressing, putting the clothes in a bag and getting into his own. It only takes him a minute or two, but it feels like an eternity and I'm so happy, when he gets on the bed and pull me on top of him, arms tight around me. "I'm so sorry honey, are you ok?" Austin asks again 

"Yes, I'm fine, just a little shaken up." I say, grimacing when I speak since it hurts from all the screaming. "I think we should go by the medic, your cheek is pretty red and your wrist is bruising" he speaks softly, massaging my back. "I'm fine." I push hoping he'd drop if. "How's your hand, does it hurt?" I ask and push myself off of him, getting up from the bed and going to my bag to pick my balm for cuts and bruises. I take the wet towel and motion him to come sit at the edge of the bed with me. "Give me your hand." But he's stubborn. "I should be taking care of you, I'm fine." He argues, making me roll my eyes. "Aus, your knuckles are bleeding, please!" I plead with him and he finally gives in. While I work on his hands his lips kiss my face over and over again, making my skin feel warm and tingly.

 "I think if there's anyone that can kiss it better it's you." I admit, smiling, while I carefully apply cream to his bruised knuckles. He doesn't even flinch but I know they must be hurting. "Are you really ok? Please Y/n tell me, I promise not to go break his neck." Austin's nostrils flare up as his anger flashes back to him, and I sigh. "I'm not fine, I was so scared, I took all those self defense classes and I couldn't do anything." I feel tears in my eyes again and he places a finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Come here, my darling love, I'm sorry you had to go through this, I'm here!" He assures me, pulling me into a breath taking hug. 

I breathe in his scent, feeling my muscles relax, the warmth his body provides being exactly what I needed. "Let's go home and get you a warm bath, hm? And then we'll stuff ourselves full of chocolate and ice cream, while watching Twilight!" I giggle at the plans he has made for the night. "I would love that!" I reply truthfully, leaning my head back and pulling him in for a kiss. Austin's lips are warm and soft and sweet, almost too familiar in taste. "Did you use my lip balm?" I ask licking my lips and looking at him, chuckling when he blushes. "Just a bit, maybe, no.." he defends himself, bringing me back for another kiss, one of his hands holding my chin. "Liar!" I say, before his lips crash onto mine. He giggles into the kiss, and his tongue, licks my bottom lip asking for permission, which I give delighted. Austin's tongue explores my mouth and his hands keep me close to his chest, so close I can feel his heart pounding. "I love you!" I say between shallow breaths. "You're my everything!" He admits looking into my eyes and I melt into the blue of his irises.

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[kifkay]

Specialists and their Dragons

this is a part two of this post, where I expand on Specialists' dragons and their role in their lives!!

Sky:

all dragons are given "fancier" names at their birth, issued by the clerics stationed in Red Fountain. Sky's dragon is named Merciful Wraith of Pre-Dawn Blizzard, the second.

for obvious reasons, riders are allowed to pick "nicknames" for their dragons.

hers is Pearl, given to her for her snow-white scales.

she is a calm-mannered, small dragon, who is as quick as lightning.

Sky worries too much to ride her into open battle, but he flies with her for leasure and recon often.

Pearl loves diving in rivers - one of the only times when she becomes animated and playful - and has a bad habit of dragging Sky down with her. the girl just gets so excited when she sees a body of water!

Sky resorts to just jumping out of his saddle when she spots any river, and hoping for only a slightly-traumatic landing.

Pearl loooves Bloom (most dragons do), is playfully antagonistic towards Brandon (headbutts him and lightly nibbs on his arm) and shy around Helia. She is very spoilt by Sky and uses that to her advantage often.

despite her calm demeanor, she is still a dragon and will rip heads off - has done so in fact, to protect her rider.

Riven:

Riven's dragon is a BIG BOI, much larger than average dragons. He has a dusty pelt and scar-laden skin, accumulated over the long years of his life.

the name was Death’s Harbinger and he was easily the most aggressive/mistrustful of all dragons. even Codatorta, the most skilful rider of Red Fountain, could reliably control the great dragon half the time.

Riven looked into Harbinger’s big, milky, sad eyes and went all lifetime movie - horse girl - “I can tame him” on the poor dude.

after a long routine of slowly earning his trust, then getting adjusted to each other, Riven bonded with Fang - Harbinger’s new nickname.

Fang is a traumatised old dragon, whose size and temperament should be accounted for at all times - but he is also a huge grump. if Fang wants to nap, he’ll lay down on a sun-heated rock and won’t move for the next four hours.

Fang is also territorial over his rider and will puff smoke at Riven - to make him retain his scent, and therefore his mark of protection. Riven is very annoyed, because he doesn’t like smelling like wet dragon all of the time.

to both Riven and Sky’s chagrin… Pearl and Fang love each other.

Fang does add +171627282 points to Riven’s intimidation factor.

Brandon:

Brandon gave up his right to ride his dragon, since he didn’t pursue dragon-riding lessons beyond a school-mandated course

the reason he didn’t is because his team already had two dragon riders - Riven and Sky - and Brandon wanted the team to be well-rounded.

but Brandon loved the freedom of flying and loved his dragon Synrise (ex the Scorching Might of Twin Suns). it was heartbreaking for him.

Synrise is a beauty among dragons, with a golden shimmer to her peach-coloured scales and expressive brown eyes. Usually, she was a well-behaved younging, but she certainly gave Brandon hell.

Synrise hated getting mud or grime on herself and would actively misbehave to avoid that, didn’t like staying in the barracks with the other dragons, and was a horrifyingly picky eater.

Although she liked Stella, Synrise would always get overly excited and play too roughly with the fairy.

both the dragon and Brandon loveeed flying together, though, going high and performing tricks.

her and Pearl got along fine, but Synrise is deathly afraid of Fang.

once Brandon stopped riding her, she would refuse to even look at him when he would come for visits.

but she would leave him little tokens afterwards, on his balcony - usually in the form of dead dears, stolen motorbikes or tree trunks.

Helia:

since Dream died, Helia hasn’t ridden any other dragon.

Dream was picked as an egg by Saladin, and raised by the older wizard’s hands. Saladin promised his grandson that Dream (then, Regal Legacy) would be his upon Helia’s enrolment to the Red Fountain.

Dream’s scales were a gradient of red and black, carefully maintained and shiny. He was both decently strong and fast, and had a slim, black tail.

Dream was obedient and stoic, a dutiful shadow behind its rider. he rarely betrayed a command, and only when needed to ensure their survival.

Dream was also… shy! he loved to nuzzle into Helia’s chest, or drab his tail over the young man’s legs, but only if they were alone and Helia was the first to initiate contact. he napped the best when Helia curled around him.

Helia, at the time, was obsessed with self-perfection and training, exhausting himself beyond limits. Dream, who always responded to his emotions deeply, took after his rider. He too, grew restless and weak.

Helia knows that it was his fault Dream was killed - the dragon was much too exhausted, to fight through a haze of monsters on a mission Helia led. If not for his own destructive habits, Dream might’ve been alive and well, scouring through skylines. as it stood now, he didn’t even have a body to bury.

one of the only keepsakes Helia retained is Dream’s scales. He always carries one in his pocket. A reminder.

from smallest to biggest: Pearl -> Dream -> Synrise -> Fang

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four Ao3

A/N: Part Two is here! Robin is finally coming in and giving us some new perspectives and answers, Steve accepts some things about himself, and Robin wants to invoke her best friend rights to protect Steve. Hope you enjoy!

Tw: internalized biphobia, implied/referenced abuse, implied/referenced suicidal thoughts

———

Robin grunts, hopping off her bike and ripping the helmet off her head. Three cars almost hit her today. Three! She groans.

“Stupid fucking bike—“ she kicks the back wheel, making it fall against the brick exterior wall of Family Video. She had to ride it to work today because someone—ahem, Steve—has decided to adopt half of the rising sophomore class, which means he’s off today since his favorite little nerd is off to Utah for the weekend. So now, she’s late for her shift and all gross and sweaty. Great.

Robin tucks her helmet under her arm, raking a hand through her hair in a weak attempt to fix it, and begins the short walk to the front doors when something catches her eye.

A burgundy BMW. Correction, Steve’s burgundy BMW.

She slows her steps and walks up to it, cautious as if it’ll attack her, and peeks inside. There’s nothing out of the ordinary save for a green duffle bag and an old beaten up shoebox. She frowns and looks towards the front doors as if the transparent surface will answer all of her questions.

She walks inside to find Steve. Steve, who is propped up on the counter with his eyes closed, head dipping down, and at work. The place he is decidedly not supposed to be right now.

“Dingus!” She shouts and slaps her hand on the counter, startling Steve awake. He reaches behind him, frowns when his hand comes up empty, and looks around with hazy eyes. There’s a distance behind those irises that she’s never seen before, like he’s not all there. As if he doesn’t know where he is.

Robin wasn’t concerned, but now she is.

“Steve?”

He finally looks up at her, sitting up straighter as if he didn’t know she was there, and puts on a smile she obviously knows is fake.

“Oh, hey, Robs,” he greets, his voice perfectly exemplifying that of model customer service personnel. Robin scrunches up her eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, shifting her weight and putting her hands on her hips. She stares at Steve expectantly, waiting for an explanation. He only blinks at her.

“Uh… working? I have a shift today, Robs, why wouldn’t I be here?” He answers, eyebrows furrowing and head tilting slightly. Robin has a fleeting thought that he looks like a confused puppy, then she realizes that’s not too far off. She meets his confused gaze with one of her own.

“Dustin leaves for his trip to Utah today, Steve. In like,“—she checks the clock behind him—“an hour. Shouldn’t you be there to, ya know, say goodbye and all that?”

She waits for realization to dawn on his face, for that wrinkle between his brows to disappear and panic to settle in. It doesn’t. If anything, he looks even more confused now.

“… What trip to Utah?” He asks hesitantly, like he doesn’t know. Does… does he not know?

“Are you messing with me right now? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, this isn’t funny,” she huffs a nervous laugh. He shakes his head.

Shit.

Steve, she realizes, hasn’t talked about the kids in… a while. A week at least. But he would have told her, right? He would have mentioned something, would have asked her what’s going on.

But then again… would he?

“Fuck,” she curses, and briskly walks over to the front door. She locks it, flips the sign to ‘Closed!’, and ignores Steve’s petulant protest of “Robbie, c’mon.” She drags Steve out from behind the counter and pulls him in an aisle of tapes before crossing her arms over her chest.

“The movie nights… Those weren’t migraine days, were they?” She asks, already half expecting the head shake she gets in response but it hurts all the same.

See, Steve gets debilitating migraines sometimes, so bad he stays in bed for days at a time. She had bought him blackout curtains a few months ago after he said the dark helped his head, and ever since then he’s taken it upon himself to get through them alone. She would ask if he needed help, tell him to call her so she could come over, but he never did. She just assumed that he didn’t show up because he couldn’t, not… whatever this is.

Robin grabs him by the shoulders, thumbs rubbing over his collarbones as she looks in his eyes.

“What happened?”

Steve sighs, face falling as he looks to the floor.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. His hand finds the hair tie on his wrist and he starts fiddling with it, snapping it against his skin and twisting it around his fingers. It makes Robin's heart clench. She shakes his shoulders to get him to look at her, and doesn't speak until he does.

“Steve, tell me what happened,” she insists, looking into his sad brown eyes that droop with the weight of her request. His shoulders rise beneath her hands as he takes in a deep breath. Then, he speaks.

“They haven’t talked to me in three weeks, Rob,” he confesses, eyes trained just over her shoulder to avoid eye contact. She knows he means the kids, and that makes this so, so much worse.

“Steve—“

“It’s okay,” he interrupts. His face slowly forms a small, wavering smile as he finally looks at her. “It means they’re growing up, expanding their horizons. Finding… finding better people to be around.”

Her stomach drops.

“Steve, what… what do you mean by that?” Her voice is shaky, filled with fear and the horrible dawning of what he's implying. Steve huffs and turns to look in the direction of the front windows, eyes distant.

“It’s good that they’re not talking to me. Why… Why should they?” He looks back at her, determination shining in his eyes. Robin realizes, with frightening clarity, that he’s confident in it. That he believes it. She swallows the forming lump in her throat.

“What do I do for them other than free rides or snacks? Nothing,” he laughs, a wet, hollow thing devoid of its usual happiness. “They haven’t asked me for anything in three weeks, Rob. Not once. Every time I ask they shut me down or… or tell me Eddie already offered. It’s… fuck, it hurts so bad but what else can I do but respect their decision to leave me?”

He rubs a hand harshly over his face, his skin turning pink from the pressure and force, before pushing his hair back. He looks away, murmuring, “it’s for the best, anyway” that Robin is sure she’s not supposed to hear but does anyhow.

She pushes him back, holding him out at arms length and ignoring the look she gets in return, and looks him up and down. His normally crisp polo is rumpled under his work vest and half tucked in his jeans. Dirt stains the once-white laces of his Nikes, and mud is caked on the side of his soles. His hands tremble at his sides before clenching into fists, as if trying to stop the shaking, before resigning to tap an unsteady rhythm against his thighs.

She looks up at his face, notices the tenseness in his jaw as it stays sealed shut. How his hair lays flat and greasy on his head as if he spends his days running his fingers through it. His eyes flicker around, as if unable to stay in one spot for too long. As if they’re looking for something. Watching. Waiting.

Most importantly, she notices a sadness in his eyes she’s never seen before. Not when he would talk about Nancy or his parents or his past. It shows in the lifelessness that’s found its way behind his pupils, in the flatness of his gaze. It shows in the deep bags under his eyes and the crease between his brows. That earlier thought about how he resembles a puppy returns, however instead of a confused puppy, it’s one that’s been kicked too many times to count and just wants someone to rub its little head.

It’s those sad eyes that make her realize that he’s used to this, to people leaving. All those times they spent together, curled against each other in the comfort of his big plush mattress after Starcourt and whispering secrets into the night, come back to her.

How he told her his parents left him with nannies and babysitters when they would go on trips until he was ten and his father decided he was old enough to fend for himself in their absence. How he had to call the police just so someone would tell him how to work the stove. How they missed his first birthday at thirteen, then Thanksgiving the following year, then his sixteenth birthday—which they tried making up for by buying him a car—then both Thanksgiving and Christmas the next year until it was a surprise they showed up for anything at all. How they missed his high school graduation.

How he cried through telling her he handed his heart to Nancy, giving her everything he could to make her happy, only for it to be left bleeding on the bathroom floor. How she cheated on him with Jonathan without giving an explanation for why or when or how, only a silent understanding of ‘yeah, I’m with him now. We’re over’ during the end of the world. How she never even said sorry.

It was one instance, when Robin woke up to Steve thrashing in his checkered sheets as his throat screamed out into the darkness of his room, that she’ll always remember. She had to sit on his chest to keep him from moving and accidentally hurting himself in the process. She did her best to stay clear of any still-sore wounds while holding his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks as she waited for him to calm down.

Eventually, those tired eyes opened, glistening with tears yet to be shed and Robin’s heart ached for him. She did her best to smile, to bring some comfort to his panicked mind.

“Hey, dingus, it’s me,” she soothed. “It’s Robin.”

“... Robin?” He muttered, voice fragile and raw from screaming. She nodded, even if he couldn’t quite see her yet.

“Yeah, that’s me. We’re in your room right now, in your bed,” she informed, and Robin could see the shame rising to his face in real time. “You had a nightmare.”

“Fuck, Robs, I’m so sorry,” Steve apologized, moving to try and get up but she shook her head, refusing to budge even an inch. Despite him being twice her size and having the ability to easily move her if needed, he relented and went slack underneath her, almost completely boneless save for the ever-present tenseness that never quite goes away.

“None of that, Steve,” she admonished. “Nightmares are normal, especially for us. You wanna tell me what happened?”

Steve looked away and shook his head. Robin nodded, accepting his refusal, and climbed off to flop down beside him, bouncing a little on the expensive mattress. She propped her head up on her hand, looking down at him as he fiddled with the edge of the sheet. Robin quickly learned that his fiddling meant he had something on his mind, so she nudged him and gave him an expectant look. He stayed quiet, and just when she thought he wasn’t going to speak, he did.

“You know, sometimes I think the world would be better off without me,” he murmured, and Robin looked at him absolutely horrified.

“Steve, you can’t actually believe that—“

“No, Robbie,” he interrupted and paused to shake his head as tears filled his eyes. “I do, ‘cause what am I good for other than nice eye candy for the elderly ladies at the local grocery store and a stand-up athlete for asshole dads to compare their sons to?”

Steve shook his head and clenched his eyes closed.

“No one stays. No one. It’s just been me for eighteen years and I… I’m sick of it, Robin. I’m just… I’m so tired.”

When he looked at her again, she could see it. That tiredness was etched onto his face, found in the creases around his eyes, the tenseness of his mouth, and the deep purple bags beneath his brown irises.

“I know,” Robin reassured, even though she didn’t. Not really. “We’ll get through it, okay?”

“‘We’?” Steve questioned, and Robin gave him a smile.

“Yeah, ‘we’. You’re never getting rid of me, dingus,” she claimed. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Oh no,” he said sarcastically, giving her a small grin that let her know he was grateful, either for the change in subject or the fact that Robin was there for him. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Guess we’ll have to find out, hm?” It was a silent question, one asking him, ‘will you stay around long enough to find out? Will I be enough for you until you do?’

Steve smiled and pulled her down to rest on his chest, both of their arms finding their way to wrap around each other.

“Guess we will,” he whispered into her hair, and it sounded a lot like, ‘for you, I will. For you, always.’

She never forgot that conversation, and the sad way his voice quivered has plagued her mind ever since then.

Now, the kids are joining the devastatingly long list of people that have left. The kids who he has quite literally sacrificed himself for time and time again. The kids he has given countless rides to, given his time and money and sanity to just to make them happy. The kids he cares for with his whole being. The kids he loves.

That lump returns, causing pressure to form behind her eyes as she looks at her best friend. Her platonic with a capital P soulmate. The only man she’ll ever love. Tears well in her eyes, clouding her vision and making her face contort. She’s always been an ugly crier but she thinks this is justified.

“Robs? What’s wr—”

She cuts him off by wrapping her arms around his waist, pulling him into a harsh hug. She knows he doesn’t like sudden touch—as proven by him stiffening under her—but she gives herself a pass on this one.

“Robin?”

She buries her face in his chest, silently crying for him, and only begins to calm down once hesitant arms wrap around her.

“Shh… Robbie, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He promises, and his earnest tone makes her almost cry harder because yeah, he’s there for her, but who is there for him?

She sniffs and pulls away, hands coming up to wipe away her snot and tears, and hopes he doesn’t mind the wet patch on the front of his shirt. Steve’s hands drop down to her waist, squeezing and rubbing her hips with his thumbs, as her hands raise to hold his face between them.

“We’re going to fix this, Steve. You don’t deserve all this—this shit that’s been thrown at you,” she vows, squeezing his cheeks to emphasize her point.

“It’s… It’s fine, Robs. You don’t have to do anything, it’s okay,” he tries to protest but it only furthers her determination. She shakes his head in her hands.

“If I have to throttle your head to make you realize that I love you then I will do it, dingus,” she promises, shaking his head again to prove her point. “Screw all your concussions.” She smiles at him, something small and filled with love for the man before him.

Steve breaks.

His face contorts much like Robins had earlier; eyebrows scrunched together, eyes clenched shut, nose wrinkling, and mouth a flat, wavering line. Ugly, heart-wrenching sobs claw their way out his throat, echoing off the metal shelves that surround them, and she knows that this was a long time coming. All of his sadness, his sorrow, is coming out through the tears that drip down his cheeks and onto the filthy carpet, the snot clogging his nose, and the small, breathy whimpers that pass through his lips.

His head drops to her shoulder, making his back arch forward in a way that cannot possibly be comfortable but he doesn’t seem to mind. She wraps her arms over his shoulders and his hands tighten their grip on her waist before resolving to squeezing her middle. Robin lets him cry it out, knowing firsthand that sometimes it’s all you need. Soon, his breaths get choppy and sporadic, so she begins rubbing her hands up and down his back in long, slow strokes in an attempt to ease the panic.

“Match your breathing to my hands, okay? Up for in and down for out,” she instructs, demonstrating by moving her hands up and down while breathing in with her movements.

“I-I don’t—“ his voice breaks.

“Yes, you can. C’mon, let's give it a try. Ready? In—" she moves her hands up. Steve struggles through a breath, only getting halfway before a sob rips through his throat and he’s forced to exhale.

“That’s good! Try again for me, babe, you can do it. Take it slow. Now, in—“ she rubs her hands up again and, this time, he follows through. “Good, good. Now out—“ her hands drop slowly down his back as he breathes out, shaky but it’s there.

“You got it! Let’s keep doing that, okay? Just focus on my hands, there you go,” she instructs, keeping her hands at a steady, calm pace. Steve does his best to follow, getting off track when a harsh sob cuts off his breathing, but he quickly calms down. He sniffs and pulls away, a mirror image of what she did just a few minutes earlier, and gives her a small but genuine smile.

“Thanks, Robin. I’m sorry you had to see that—“ Steve tries to apologize but Robin firmly shakes her head.

“Nope! None of that crap, okay? You’re allowed to cry, Steve, especially over something like this,” she insists. Steve wipes his face and, in all honesty, he looks like shit. But it's marginally better than what he looked like before so she’ll take it.

“Now, what kind of pizza do you want?”

“Wh… what?” Steve asks, confused. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Pizza! What kind of pizza do you want, Steve?”

“Robs, it’s like nine in the morning—“

“Not for right now, dingus!” She exclaims. Honestly, this guy. “For our movie night tonight!”

“But we didn’t have one set up for tonight… Right?”

“No, but I’m initiating one! We need some decompress time and a longer conversation than the one we just had about all this,” she informs. Steve rolls his eyes and smiles.

“You don’t have to, Robbie, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do—“

“Nothing is more important to me right now than comforting my best friend, Steve,” she insists, leaving no room for question. Steve holds his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay, okay, just making sure,” he defends. A small smile graces his face. “And uh… can we get pepperoni?”

Robin softens and pats his cheeks.

“Absolutely.”

The rest of the shift was spent in comfortable silence. Steve seemed to be in a very non-talkative mood and she respected that. He mostly spaced out, staring out the front windows or at a random spot on the wall while mindlessly fidgeting with something. Robin took one for the team and helped all the customers, giving him some much needed space. After that morning, it felt cruel to subject him to customer service.

When their long, boring shift was over, Steve insisted she put her bike in his trunk. When she tried to protest that she could just bike over there, he rolled his eyes and gave her the bitchiest look possible.

“Robin, I love you, but I’m not waiting for half an hour while you and your giraffe legs hit every pothole on the way over to my house when I could just drive you.”

Needless to say that after ten minutes of two fully grown adults struggling to get her bike in the trunk after a long shift at work, they were exhausted. Well, Steve was exhausted since he did most of the grunt work while she complained about how long it was taking but it was a team effort, she thinks.

They pull into his drive, the house lit up on the inside from nearly every room despite it being empty. Robin knows it’s because he hates the dark, hates the feeling of being alone. She doesn’t comment on it. Never has.

She rushes to the phone once they get inside, dialing the pizza place from memory and recites their order. She hears Steve huff from the living room followed by a soft thump, presumably him flopping on the couch. Hanging up the phone, she shrugs off her shoes and work vest before standing next to him and bouncing on her feet.

“Can I help you?” He looks up at her expectantly, tired eyes finding hers but looking infinitely more at peace. She grins.

“Let’s make a pillow fort!” She exclaims, grabbing his hand and tugging him off the couch. Steve groans.

“C’mon, Robs, that’s totally not necessary,” he complains despite having a smile on his face. She tugs harder, pulling him towards the hall closet where the spare sheets and pillows are stored, and ignores him. Throwing open the door with her free hand, she turns to face him.

“Suck it up and help me carry these, dingus.”

She throws a stack of sheets at his face, snickering when they mess up his hair, and grabs a few pillows. Haul successful, she heads back to the living room, Steve giving her an over dramatic eye roll for the trouble.

“We can just sit on the couch, you know.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She questions before gesturing to the coffee table. “Now move that out of the way so we can get this thing started!”

Steve grumbles but does as he’s told. After a few minutes, they have a completed pillow fort. It’s a little wonky, just big enough for two people if they scrunch together, but it’s perfect. It’s angled directly at the TV, the seats of the chairs holding up the roof acting as personal trays for their drinks.

As soon as the last pillow is in place, the doorbell rings. Before Steve can move, Robin jumps up, rushing over to her vest and grabbing a ten out of the inside pocket. She ignores Steve's protests and opens the door, all but throwing the money at the delivery guy before grabbing the pizza and telling him to keep the change. Pizza acquired, she bounds back to the fort and flops down, placing the warm box between the two of them. In her absence, Steve has keyed up Pretty in Pink, their go-to feel-better movie.

Over the course of the movie, they eat their pizza while critiquing the characters and relationships, plot holes and bad acting, and make up their own responses to dialogue until both of them can barely breathe through their laughter. Steve returns to himself a little bit, somewhere around the first hour mark, and Robin feels accomplished that she got some of her friend back.

Once the movie is over and the pizza is gone, they lay in the dark under the protection of the fort. The blue screen from the TV reflects off the white sheets, turning their skin pale and glowing. Steve is on his back, one arm behind his head and the other resting lazily on his stomach. He looks soft, face lax and eyes a little droopy as if he’s already half asleep. Robin turns on her side to face him, one hand propping her head up while the other raises to carefully pick up Steve’s. He turns his head to look at her, and she knows he knows it’s time to talk. Really talk.

A beat of silence, then, “Why didn’t you tell me, Steve?”

He sighs and she can feel the movement under their joined hands on his stomach. He’s silent for a moment, and Robin watches as hesitation clouds his eyes.

“I thought it wasn’t important enough for you to know,” he murmurs. He’s not looking at her, instead focusing on running his fingers along hers. She stays quiet.

“I… I thought I deserved it, still do. There’s just so many feelings in here,“ he pauses to tap his heart with a sad smile, “and I don’t know what to do with them.”

“So tell me about them. What’s the biggest one right now?” Steve huffs.

“It… it sounds stupid but there's this intense misery all up here,” he gestures to his head, "paired right up there with this bitter… resentment,” a dry laugh falls from his lips and he shakes his head. “God, that sounds pathetic.”

Robin pinches his arm and diligently ignores his offended “ow!”.

“You’re not pathetic, dingus,” she corrects. She taps his heart. “Tell me about them.”

Steve sighs, eyes closing. He takes a deep breath.

“I… I have this—this sadness that just doesn’t go away. It’s like… like it knows when I’m happy and just sucks it all up.”

Robin nods and holds his hand, squeezes it to provide some comfort for him. She knows this isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. She hesitates on the next question.

“…How long have you felt like this?” Steve chews on his lip for a moment.

“As long as I can remember.”

Fuck.

Distantly, memories from a time after the Mall come flooding back.

‘Yeah,’ she thinks, remembering what he confessed that night. ‘Fuck indeed.’

“Even when I’m with people I love, it’s always there. It’s…” Steve pauses, furrows his eyebrows. “It’s like this… this dark cloud constantly floating above me that always looks like it’s going to rain, but you never know for sure if it will or not. I’m…”

Steve trails off, sucks in a harsh breath, and looks at her. His voice comes out just above a whisper, a weak thing that if she wasn’t right in front of him, Robin wouldn’t hear.

“I’m scared I’m not gonna feel happy again, Robs.”

That… That’s what brings Robin close to tears again. The quiet way he admits it, like he doesn’t want to say it too loud in fear the universe will make it come true, is enough for her eyes to sting.

“Steve…”

“I know,” he chuckles wetly, hand coming up to run through his hair as he looks away. “I know how it sounds, Robbie. Trust me, I do. If I could fix it, I would, but I don’t know how—“

“You don’t have to fix it, Steve,” she interrupts. “You’re not broken, this… this is just another part of you. One that you are just now letting yourself show. You don’t have to be the perfect, put-together, level-headed person all the time, and no one expects that of you.”

She pauses to look him properly in the eyes, trying to drive her point home. “You’re allowed to be sad, Steve. You’re allowed to feel, you know that, right?”

Steve looks at her, tears falling steadily down his cheeks as he shakes his head. He didn’t know. Robin feels her heart breaking for him, a deep pang in her chest as her soulmate cries in front of her. She wipes his tears away with her thumb, noting how his eyes flutter shut at the touch.

“Keep going,” she gently commands. She runs her hand through his hair, scratching a little at his scalp when he leans into it. He huffs, air fanning across her face.

“It’s really more of a frustration but I… I don’t understand why this keeps happening to me. Why the people I love keep fucking leaving me. I mean… I’m the common factor, right? So I’m the problem,” Steve ventures. “Always have been.”

The last part is added under his breath but Robin hears it. He’s always had a bit of a self-deprecating streak but this is something else. Something deeper, more real.

She gives a small tug at his hair to signal him to keep going.

“All I wanted was for my parents to be proud of me. I worked myself to death just trying to get an ounce of affection, of love, but it was useless. I was never good enough.”

A pause. He sniffs.

“Then Nancy came along and I thought, ‘yeah, I can love her and she can love me back,’” a small, fond smile graces his face, one he always gets when he talks about his past with Nancy. One that means he’s remembering the good times before everything went downhill. There’s no longing there, not anymore.

“I thought that I could finally show someone all these feelings kept inside of me and get some in return,” Steve quietly confesses, then pauses again. That fond look sours, and his mouth forms a stern line. “Guess that was bullshit, huh?”

He spits out ‘bullshit’ like it's laced with poison, followed by a hollow laugh. He closes his eyes, takes a breath, and keeps going.

“I thought she was it for me but she… She wanted Jonathan. She wanted someone better, and who am I to blame her for that? I’d want someone better if I was her, too.”

“You did everything right with the situation you were given, Steve. It’s perfectly okay to want some normalcy after what you saw, what you went through. You and Nancy just don’t deal with trauma the same way, and that’s okay too,” Robin reassures. She lets some bitterness seep into her voice, because yes, she is mad at Nancy on Steve’s behalf. “What’s not okay is the fact that she cheated on you, and you’re allowed to be hurt by that.”

He pats her hand, a silent understanding. She nods. “Keep going.”

“After that, I tried to become a better person. A better influence for the kids to be around. I wanted to be someone they could go to, a figure they could always trust and lean on for anything. Someone I wish I had as a kid,” there’s a sadness in his voice as he says that, a tone he always gets when he talks about his childhood. Robin taps her fingers against his scalp to get him to look at her. She smiles at him, and he gives a small one in return. He keeps talking.

“They need to feel safe in this shitty town that decides losers and freaks should be shunned, that they’re bad for being a little different,” his voice is filled with anger as he grinds the words out, words she has a suspicion are directed at the people who pay the bills for the very house they’re laying in.

“But none of it ever mattered because they found someone else to do that for them, to be that for them.” Robin gives him a confused look.

“Who?”

“Eddie,” Steve reveals, face forming a small smile as the name slips through his lips. He looks… fond, in a sad way.

It only confuses Robin further.

“I don’t blame him for any of this, by the way,” he clarifies. “I doubt he even realizes it. And they… They’re just kids, I can’t blame them for choosing the better option.

“Eddie shares their interests in their little nerd game, something I can’t even begin to comprehend. He’s funny and charming and outgoing, and he's so, so good with the kids,” he smiles once he rambles about Eddie, a small thing that Robin realizes is similar to the one he wears when he talks about his past with Nancy. Except this one… this one is bigger. Better. Real.

As if realizing he’s rambling, his face loses that bit of brightness as he looks away.

“I’m mostly just angry at myself,” he admits. “I just want my family back. Even though they’ve made it very clear they don’t want me in return… I still want them.”

He looks up at her then, face contorted with resentment she can tell is only directed towards himself. “Isn’t that fucked up? Isn’t that just perfectly fucking tragic?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one she doesn’t need to answer. She can’t say anything to help, anyway. Steve wipes a hand harshly over his eyes, irritating the skin and making it red. He lets out an emotionless huff, sniffing a bit through his nose. He looks… exhausted.

“Steve,” she whispers. He looks at her, and she finally asks one of the questions that’s been bugging her since this morning. “When was the last time you slept?”

He stares at her blankly, eyes darting around as if he's visualizing the math he’s doing in his head. All of the fanfare tells her he’s not sure when, and her suspicion is confirmed when he shrugs.

“I uh… don’t really remember. The days kinda all blend together, ya know?”

She nods. She does know, the days after their run-ins with the Upside Down always seem to pass by in a blur. The doctors say it’s something to do with trauma, the brain needing time to fully process everything that happened and causing the time to slip by. This time there is no Upside Down, no mortal peril or end of the world, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less important.

She’s realized a lapse in post-nightmare phone calls from Steve recently, but just figured it was because he was getting better. They usually dwindle down to two or three a week after a few months, something they’ve all found to be relatively normal after what they went through. She never considered that it was because he wasn’t sleeping at all.

“That um… well, that kinda leads me to my next point. Uh…” Steve huffs, running a hand through his hair—something she knows he does with he’s nervous. She waits.

“I’ve not been sleeping because I’m not exactly… at home… every night.”

What?

“What?” Robin questions, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. An idea comes to her head, and she smirks internally.

“Where the hell are you going then? Are you,” she gasps, hand clutching mock pearls around her neck, "fulfilling your title as the resident man whore of Hawkins? Hooking up with the female population while living under my roof?” She waves her finger at him, giving him an overdramatic grumpy face and shaking her head in fake disappointment. “How dare you, young man!”

Steve laughs at her declaration, face a little pink from the accusation, and shakes his head.

“No, Robbie, I’m not ‘hooking up’ or whatever,” he rolls his eyes, as if finding the claim absolutely absurd. Even if it’s already half true.

“Actually, I’ve been uh… patrolling. Hawkins. Um, at night and stuff…��

Robin blinks.

“What does,” she pauses and makes sure to physically add quotation marks with her fingers, “‘and stuff’ mean exactly?”

“It means that I’m trying to be proactive, okay? Every time the Upside Down has come for us, we’ve been unprepared. Surprised. If I can prevent that from happening, give everyone a bit of a heads up, then it’ll be worth it,” he explains. “I know El–Jane? Whatever–said she closed it but we’ve thought that before and it’s come back so… better safe than sorry.”

Steve flops his head back on the pillow behind him, staring up at the sheet ceiling rather than at her. Robin doesn’t mind, as long as it gets him to talk. Kinda gross she can see his nose hairs now, though. He sighs.

“I’ve been going out at night with my bat and checking all the gates, all the spots they’ve come through before, to make sure they’re gone. Every night. Sometimes I don’t finish until early morning, sometimes it’s only a couple hours but… yeah,” he finishes ineloquently.

So, he’s a dumbass. His intentions are good, don’t get her wrong, but the execution… is not the greatest. No wonder he’s exhausted. Speaking of—

“Wait, so when do you actually sleep?”

“Only when I can’t physically stand to be awake anymore. My body kinda… shuts down,” Steve says, like it’s nothing. Like that’s not the most depressing thing she’s ever heard. Like it’s not entirely unhealthy. He huffs a laugh.

“The first time it happened, it scared the shit outta me. Thought I was dying. Turns out you’re not supposed to be awake for like… four days straight,” he recalls, face light like he’s talking about a fond memory instead of passing out from exhaustion. “On the bright side, I don’t have as many nightmares now. Don’t think my brain can keep up with all that.”

His version of a ‘bright side’ is decidedly equivalent to the darkest depths of the Mariana Trench because what the actual fuck—

“Steve…” she trails off, voice wobbly with fear for her best friend. She begs to know why he’s doing this, why he’s risking his life and sanity again, why he always seems to play the self-sacrificial card even when it’s not necessary. Even when no one asks him to. “Why?”

She expects him to crumble again, to fall apart at the realization that he’s tearing himself apart on his own volition. She expects him to cry out apologies, to scream and rant and hit things just to let all his emotions out. She expects her platonic soulmate, who carries the weight of too-heavy emotions on his shoulders and in his heart, to show his cards and let it all out.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he closes his eyes. He, at this moment, looks peaceful. Content. Like his world isn’t crumbling down around him. Like he—

Like he’s accepted it.

Accepted the anger and hate and rejection from the people he loves. Accepted the endless nights of walking and hunting and searching just in case. Accepted keeping all of this—his thoughts, his emotions, his vulnerability, his love—to himself.

Accepted that his love will never be returned, so why even try to live for it anymore?

The last shards of her heart shatter completely.

“Even though they don’t want me anymore, I have to keep them safe. It’s my job. It’s what I’m meant—what I’m expected to do,” he insists. His voice is an even, calm tone. No waver, no hesitation. “I’m so scared that it’ll come back and I’ll—we’ll be too late.”

She doesn’t miss his corrections, but doesn’t point them out either.

“You know it’s not all up to you, right? There’s other people—me for one, Joyce and Hop, Wayne and Eddie, Nancy and Jonathan, and… fuck it, probably that Murray guy too—that are willing to help. That can help,” she suggests gently. “You don’t have to fight all your battles alone, ya know. Sometimes you need a little help, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Steve has his eyes open now and is looking at her. Not in a sad way, or ashamed or angry or anything of the sort. He’s just… looking. Looking just to look.

“I… I think somewhere deep down I know that, that you’re all here, but it’s just so hard to accept. It’s hard to believe it, Robs,” he confesses. “I’m sorry.”

Robin smiles at him, a soft thing that feels like melted butter on pancakes or a warm summer morning. She pats his cheek a couple times.

“Stop saying sorry, dingus, or I really will follow through with that promise of throttling you into another concussion.”

Steve laughs, short and sweet as if it took him by surprise, and shakes his head a little.

“Sorry, it’s just a habit.”

“You just said it again!”

“Fuck, sorry—"

“Steve!“

“Sorry—“

“Steve!“

“Sor—“ Robin cuts him off by pinching his lips together with her fingers, making him look like a deformed baby duckling. The imagery has her snorting and Steve follows soon after, only laughing because she is, until they’re both clutching their sides and gasping for breath.

He looks younger like this, when he’s laughing. Like the Upside Down never happened. Like his father never happened. Like he’s just a kid.

She has the striking realization that he is just a kid. He’s only nineteen, barely even a legal adult, yet he’s seen enough shit for a lifetime. Really, he’s been an adult for far longer than two years, far longer than anyone should have been at his age. He barely had time to just be a kid but now, here, when he’s laughing with her, so carefree and innocent… she thinks he might finally be letting himself feel like one again.

To think that earlier in the day, she was mad at his dumb ass for not driving her to work. Funny how a few hours can change someone’s whole perspective, huh?

Speaking of…

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s with the duffle and box in your car?”

Steve’s face falls, and that light he held from earlier has all but vanished. He huffs a small laugh.

“I don’t even know why that’s still in there, to be honest with you,” he confesses. Clear that he isn’t going to continue, Robin nudges him with her hand. He sighs.

“Sometimes when I go out at night, I don’t really uh… remember everything,” he starts. “I kinda zone out a bit? Like my head isn’t screwed all the way to my body and the connection’s all wonky.”

“Babe, it sounds like you’re dissociating,” she offers. At his confused face, she elaborates. “It’s when you kinda disconnect from yourself, and a lot of times you can’t really remember what happens.”

He nods. “So I guess I do,” he gestures to her, “that sometimes. Or, well—every time, really…” he trails off, then flicks his eyes to meet hers.

“One night, I just… I guess I needed to get out. Out of the house, out of Hawkins, who knows,” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I grabbed everything I needed—or thought I needed, I guess, and shoved them in my car. I don’t remember how I got there, only that I came back in my head at the edge of town with my car pulled off on the side of the road just in front of the ‘Leaving Hawkins’ sign.

“I just sat there in my car and thought that I could just… keep going. Kept thinking that I could just follow the road, see where it takes me. Go around the curve and disappear into the trees. Leave everyone behind. Not like they’d care, anyway.”

“Hey,” she smacks his arm. “I would care, dingus. I don’t know what I’d do if you just disappeared on me.”

She doesn’t like thinking about it, about the fact that he could leave. Part of her knows it would be good for him to get out of town, to not let it hold him back from doing whatever he wanted with his life. Another part of her—the more selfish part—wants him to stay. Wants him to be with her for everything. Wants him to be there when she gets her first girlfriend, when she gets married, when she has kids. Wants him to be her other half for the rest of their lives.

The thought of him just disappearing, though… that’s one she hasn’t even considered being an option. He’s a constant in her life, always there when she needs him, and sometimes even when she doesn’t. He’s her rock, just like she’s his. Life without him… it’s something she can’t really comprehend.

“I know you would, Robs,” he begins, voice as soft as the smile on his face. “You’re one of the reasons I turned the car around that night.”

Fuck, she’s gonna cry.

“Jesus, how can you just say stuff like that?” She sniffles, not really crying but her eyes are definitely stinging. “Fuck, that’s like… the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Steve laughs and reaches up to ruffle her hair. “Don’t take it too seriously, you’re only one of the reasons.”

“I still count though!”

“Yeah, Robbie, you still count.”

Robin collects herself before flopping on Steve’s chest, right ear next to his heart. She likes listening to it, to the deep thu-thump that proves he’s alive. It always seems to calm her down.

One of Steve’s hands comes up to play with her hair and she smiles. She traces little shapes on his chest while she tries to figure out how to ask her next question. However, her thinking face must be obvious because Steve tugs her hair a little and dramatically sighs.

“Just spit it out, Robs.”

“I’m getting there! Just…” she hesitates. “What’s in the shoebox? Like… your favorite pair of shoes or something?”

She couldn’t fathom why in the hell he would bring shoes of all things with him out of town, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings if that was the case. But, judging by the incredulous look on his face, shoes are definitely not an essential item for his escape.

“Have I… never shown you the shoebox?”

“Um…” she pauses. “No? I’m pretty sure I would remember that, Steve.”

“Huh,” he huffs. “Thought I did… ”

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“Back to the point.”

“Right, yeah,” he takes a breath. “It’s everything the kids have ever given me. Polaroids, notes, letters, stickers, trinkets. You name it, it's probably in there. Pretty sure there's some arcade coins somewhere in there too.”

“Aw, Steve,” she starts. “That’s so sweet.”

Steve smiles a little, then—for some weird reason—blushes.

“That’s not.. all that’s in the box,” he begins. “There’s stuff from you, obviously, like our friendship bracelets and your little notes reminding me to eat or sleep or shower. Plus tons of pictures from your disposable camera you had a while back—“

“Wait, you kept those?” She interrupts. He nods. “Huh… I thought you just threw them all away.”

“Why the hell would I do that? They’re from you, Robs, I would never throw them away.”

“I mean, some of them were really bad. Like… I’m pretty sure they were all blurry in some way and I’m almost positive there’s a picture of just my thumb in there.”

Steve smiles. “There is. It’s my favorite one.”

She hits him. “Yeah, yeah, asshole.”

“No really, it is! You wanna know why?”

“Sure, why?”

“Cause in the bottom right corner you can see your smile. You were trying to take a picture of yourself, I think, but your thumb got in the way of the lens,��� he grins and looks down at her. “Sometimes I take it out when I’m feeling sad just to remind myself what your smile looks like.”

God fucking damnit there he goes again.

“You know, I think you’re just trying to make me cry at this point,” she starts. Steve rolls his eyes at her.

“Just being honest, Robbie.”

“I know, shithead, that’s what’s making me cry,” she rubs her eyes, willing the stinging to go away. “What else is in there?”

“There’s still stuff from Nancy, I think. There’s one of her flashcards, a ticket stub from our first date to the movies, and there's a ribbon in there that I’m pretty sure she used to wear in her hair. But… I don’t look at them nearly as much as I do yours or… or Eddie’s.”

“Eddie’s?” She questions, because what the fuck?

“Mhm… you know how he likes giving out little trinkets to people?”

She nods. She does know, her dresser is full of them; shiny soda tabs hooked together in a little chain, bouncy balls from the little restaurant machines, and rocks that Eddie claimed were “so cool, Birdie, just look!”. There’s a little sailor figurine that’s her current favorite, given to her by Eddie shortly after her and Steve recounted their Scoops experience.

“Well, they’re all in that box. Every last one of them. All the bottle caps, buttons, D&D figurines, drawings, notes, everything,” a smile finds its way to his face, a small thing she isn’t sure he knows he’s doing. “I almost need another box just for everything he’s given me.”

“But…” she begins, hesitating. “Why put them in a box?”

“In case they come home,” Steve answers, plain and simple. She knows he’s talking about his parents, about how if they found even one little weakness of his, he’s done for.

She remembers one morning in the winter when she had woken up in Steve’s bed to the sound of distant yelling. The spot Steve normally would have been in was cold, and when she sat up she could tell that the voice was one she didn’t recognize.

She shrugged on one of Steve’s sweatshirts to fight the chill, the fabric draping her frame as she snuck down the hallway. Robin froze when she heard a sharp ‘smack’, followed by a thud. Her stomach sank and she couldn’t move. It was like her brain had disconnected from her body, leaving her limbs rooted to the spot until it came back online. The voice was still yelling, but Robin was too out of it to make sense of it in her head.

Only when she heard the slam of the front door and an engine start up did she begin to move. Thundering down the stairs, she ran down the hallway and froze at the entrance to the kitchen.

Steve was sitting on the floor, knees pressed up against his chest with his arms draped loosely over them as a bright pink whelp formed on his cheek. He was still in his pajamas and his hair was draped messily over his face, half of it pushed back as if he attempted to make it look presentable.

Robin took in a shaky breath.

“Steve…”

At the sound of her voice, Steve’s head shot up and his eyes blew wide. He immediately covered the red mark with his hand as he got to his feet.

“Robs, this isn’t what it looks like,” he stated, but Robin could tell by the waver in his voice that yes, it was.

She took a slow step towards him, holding her arms out as if he was a wild rabbit she was trying to catch and he was at risk of running away any minute. By the tense line of his shoulders and the way his eyes were flitting over her face and around the room, he was very much prepared to do just that.

“I know,” she tried to reassure, and after another step closer she could tell it was working. She stopped moving and just held out her arms, waiting. Steve collapsed into them not a moment later, chest hitching with cut-off breaths as his mind panicked. She rubbed soothing hands up and down his back.

After he had calmed down some, and his breathing was closer to normal, she broke the silence.

“Who did this, Steve?”

He gripped the back of her sweatshirt in his hands so tight, she feared he would rip the fabric. His voice came out quiet, as if saying it out loud would change everything. In a way, maybe it did.

“My… my dad,” he confessed. “I-It’s not bad, though. I knew he was in a bad mood but I pushed it anyways and he—"

“Woah, woah, slow down before you launch yourself into another panic attack,” Robin interrupted. “Steve, is this the first time it’s happened?”

“Him yelling at me? No, that’s kinda all he—“

“No, Steve,” she cut him off. “Is that the first time he’s hit you?”

Silence. Then, a small shake of his head.

Robin clenched her eyes closed as they began to sting and wondered just how long he’s been going through this, then wondered if he was doing so alone.

“Steve… does anyone know?” Robin asked, and Steve only shook his head again.

“I think Hop suspected something when I was younger, he used to come around a lot after they would come home and leave, but… he stopped coming around when I got older. Guess he thought I outgrew it,” Steve explained, and Robin’s heart ached for him.

“How long?”

“… as long as I can remember,” came his shaky whisper, and Robin only squeezed him tighter in response.

“You don’t deserve this, Steve,” she insisted. Steve immediately began to shake his head.

“No, I… I do, Robin, I was asking for it this time. He was just doing what he needed to in order to get his point across. It was my fault for trying to talk back,” Steve defended. Robin furrowed her eyebrows.

“Steve, what was he yelling about?”

“That’s… that’s not important—“

“Just answer the question, dingus,” she insisted. Steve sighed.

“He was mad that I didn’t decorate for the holidays, said that we had a reputation in this neighborhood and I was ruining it. He said he expected me to do better or else next year, I wouldn’t even have a house to decorate.”

“Steve… you realize that’s wrong , right?” She asked, but Steve just looked at her blankly.

“No, it’s a pretty simple concept. I knew I needed to decorate but between the gatherings and parties and taking the kids shopping, I didn’t have time. I should’ve made time, but I didn’t and that’s on me,” Steve explained, and Robin wanted to throttle him.

“Steve, you shouldn’t be expected to do any of that. If your parents wanted the house decorated that badly they should have called someone to come and do it or—god forbid—actually do it themselves,” she countered.

“But-“

“No ‘but’s, Steve. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it until you believe me; you don’t deserve this,” Robin stated. “Can you repeat that for me?”

“I… I don’t deserve this,” Steve muttered hesitantly.

“Good, again.”

“I don’t deserve this,” he repeated, more confident but not as strong as she’d like.

“One more time.”

“I don’t… holy shit, I don’t deserve this, Robbie,” he finished with a whisper as the words registered in his mind, taking root in the folds of his brain.

“Damn right you don’t,” she pulled back to grab his shoulders, looking him in the eyes. “We’re going to get through this.”

Steve nodded. “We’re going to get through this.”

They smiled at each other, and Robin knew that they both meant it.

“… Robin?”

“Yeah, Steve?”

“I… I love you.”

“I love you too, dingus.”

After that night, Robin had made it her mission to get Steve out of the house as much as possible when his parents were home, even going as far as keeping him at her house for a whole weekend when they stopped by unexpectedly. But that fear never quite goes away, and some small part of him, she thinks, will always be afraid of his father.

“I can’t let them take away the last little things that make me happy. I just… I don’t think I could survive that, Robs.”

“I know.”

They sit in silence for a moment, and Robin thinks he’s done talking until she sees him bite his lip—another sign he’s thinking about saying something.

“Then there’s the box," he starts. She blinks.

“There’s another box?” She questions. Jesus, how many could he need?

“Not a physical box, no, but one in here,” he taps his head. “It’s where I put all the things in my mind that's too big to think about by myself.”

“What’s in this box?” He smiles a fond little smile.

“Eddie.”

Um… the fuck?

“Eddie?” She asks, because she must have misheard him, right?

But Steve just nods his head, his smile growing. “Eddie.”

“Okay… what about him?”

“I… okay, I need to preface this by saying that uh… I think I like boys, too,” he confesses, voice quiet as if he’s waiting for some kind of retribution for his words. Robin, on the other hand, is in the middle of a spontaneous cardiac event because what the everloving fuck?

“What?!” She screeches, sitting up suddenly and causing Steve’s hand to fall from its place in her hair. He winces due to their close proximity. “Wait, wait, wait… you mean to tell me that you, Steve Harrington, are into guys?”

Steve shrinks back on himself a little at her disbelieving tone, face closing off, and she can see in real time the mask quickly sliding into place. Immediately, she backtracks.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” She rushes out, face flushing. “Obviously, it’s okay for you to like guys, I mean it would be totally hypocritical of me to say you can’t. Not that I have any say in who you can or can’t like anyway! I mean, you’re your own person after all, it’s just… very unexpected and I—"

"Robin," Steve interrupts. "You're rambling again."

"Oh," she breathes out and snaps her jaw shut, giving him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, uh… keep going."

“Well, it’s um… It’s not really that unexpected on my end,” Steve reveals, and Robin’s mind blows a little bit further. “When I was younger, I never really understood why being gay was frowned upon by some people because I just… I felt that way about guys sometimes too.”

And that was… what?

“Tommy was the first guy who really stood out in my head. We became friends in grade school and he just… he was always there. I remember looking at him sometimes and wanting to count his freckles or hold hands when we walked. I never did, of course, ‘cause he made his opinions about queer people very clear.

“Outside of the whole asshole thing, he was actually pretty nice. Well, when he wanted to be, anyway,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Steve glances at her and looks away, cheeks flushing a little.

“Then it was uh… Billy Hargrove.”

Now that… that threw her for a fucking loop.

“Hold up, Billy?!” She shrieks. “Like… the same Billy that broke a plate over your head? Who beat you unconscious and left you with a concussion?”

Steve nods, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. Robin groans, burying her face in his chest. Of course he’s going to have the worst possible taste in men.

“Okay, it was before he beat me unconscious, but still! I didn’t like Billy as a person, obviously, just appreciated his general… you know… sex appeal,” he clarifies. She groans again.

“Hey, he was hot!” He defends. He runs a hand over his face before continuing. “I didn’t want to date him or anything, but the fact that I was interested in him at all was terrifying at the time. I didn’t know what it meant, so I pushed it all to the back of my mind and locked it away.”

“Hence the box,” she confirms. He nods. There’s silence, and when Steve doesn’t continue, she prompts him.

“Then there’s Eddie.” He smiles and nods.

“Then there’s Eddie,” he repeats. His face lights back up just at the mere mention of him, and Robin can’t help but to smile as well.

“Tell me about him,” she asks, and immediately knows that’s the wrong move because if it’s one thing Steve picked up on during their friendship so far, it’s Robin’s tendency to ramble.

“Looking back on it, I think I had a crush on him in school, too. The way he would attract the attention of everyone in the room just by his presence alone was almost breathtaking, and I found myself looking over at his lunch table more times than I could count,” he admits. A blush has found its way to his cheeks, settling high on his cheekbones.

“The way he would spout nonsense about society and expectations made me realize that we were similar in that way, having a need to be different from everyone else, to get away from the normalcy of it all. I was unable to look away, to focus on anything else because he was always there and my mind was very, very weak.

“And it was fine in school, because I knew nothing would ever come from it ‘cause he made it clear he hated rich, popular jocks and… well, I fit into that category pretty well. There was no way he would ever like me, so after I graduated that infatuation kinda fizzled out.

“Then, the kids started talking about Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, and I knew that it had to be the same one because no other nerd would be willing to run a D&D club in Hawkins of all places,” he huffs a little laugh, more of a push of air through his nose, but the smile on his face is as gooey as freshly baked brownies.

“When I started picking the kids up, I’d see him across the parking lot and that infatuation came rushing back. The way he’d run out of the double doors with a flourish grand enough to rival a king yet immediately trip on the lip of the concrete was so endearing that it would never fail to make me laugh.

“Then I got to actually know him, and I think that’s when I knew,” Steve finishes, and Robin can’t hold back a grin. One thing that will never get old is hearing Steve talk about the people he cares about. Hear him talk about all the little things he notices, the little quirks and intricacies of those around him. It’s just… it’s nice to know that someone sees.

“So, what else do you like about him?” She asks, and the dopey grin that blooms on his face is enough to make her wonder if sometime during this conversation, he managed to get high without her noticing.

“He’s so sweet, Robbie! He gets all shy when you compliment him and does that thing where he hides behind his hair but it does absolutely nothing to hide his face,” he begins, hands gesturing as he talks. “Speaking of his hair, it looks so soft. I just wanna run my fingers through it and fluff it up.”

Steve groans, covering his face with his hands. It takes all of Robin's willpower not to outright cackle at how gone her best friend is. He rakes his hands down his face, stretching his skin as he fixes his eyes on the sheet ceiling above them.

“God, he’s so hot, Robs. Seriously, I think I’m going to spontaneously combust every time I see him. The whole rocker persona really does it for me.”

“I mean… it kinda sounds like you have a type.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Steve grumbles, squinting his eyes at her.

“No, I’m serious! Hot, curly hair, deceptively smart with a firecracker attitude… I mean Nancy and Eddie are practically the same person,” she ventures.

“I guess you’re right. Billy was just a physical attraction, though. Dick didn’t have any real personality to appeal to,” he mutters the end of that sentence, but she snorts anyway. Then, his eyes blow wide. “Wait, is that considered speaking ill of the dead, or whatever?”

Robin shrugs. “He deserves it.”

“Yeah, he kinda does… still miss that ass, though—ow!”

Robin cuts him off by smacking his chest, hard. “Ew, gross! I totally did not need to visualize that oh my god.”

Steve snickers underneath her, giggles bubbling out his throat. She only rolls her eyes at him before smacking him again.

“You got off track again, dingus,” Robin reminds him and he sends a sheepish smile her way. “What else about Eddie?”

“He…” Steve pauses, and his lips quirk upwards. “He always looks so soft, underneath all the denim and leather. Like… he gets this look on his face sometimes, like he’s feeling all the love in the world, and I find myself wanting to be the reason that look is there. I wanna see him early in the morning when he hasn’t had his coffee yet and he’s all sleep rumpled and soft and domestic and I wanna wake up to him like that everyday, Robs.

“I wanna watch him grumble and talk to himself and fuss over breakfast. I wanna take the kids places with him and lean against his side while we watch the gremlins run around. I wanna look into his eyes in the morning sunlight and watch how they shine amber up close.

“I wanna trace his dimples with my finger, then his lips, and his jawline, and his neck, too. I wanna cuddle with him after a long shift at work and lean against him as he practices guitar and watch movies while holding hands in the dark and kiss him. Fuck, I wanna kiss him so bad. I wanna kiss him until our breath runs out and then some, ‘cause I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him.”

Steve looks… Well, there's only one word for it. He looks like he’s in love. His eyes have gone soft, staring off as if he’s visualizing Eddie in front of him. His face is relaxed, a smile she now recognizes as his ‘Eddie smile’ grows.

It falls a little bit as the silence stretches, and he looks down at his hand laying idly on his chest. He starts fiddling with the fabric there, running his thumb along a fold.

“I tried to get closer to him after he got out of the hospital, and it worked for a little while. We would hang out here most of the time, watching movies or talking under the stars outside, but… I could tell he was holding me at arms length. Like he couldn’t accept that I was different. That I wanted to be there.”

He looks at her, smile turning a little sad.

“Then he stopped initiating hangouts and every time I offered, he would say no or claim he had something to do before rushing off. So I just took it as it was and stopped trying,” he sighs.

Robin thinks back to every interaction she’s seen between the two of them, how Eddie was always quick to leave and never lingered like he used to. How he almost seemed… nervous around Steve. Hesitant.

That fucking dumbass.

She starts to get up, only pausing her efforts to untangle their limbs.

“What—where are you going?” She huffs.

“To the trailer park,” she starts. Limbs finally free, she sits back on her knees and crosses her arms. “I’m going to knock some sense into that damn metalhead and probably kill him for hurting my best friend.”

Steve snorts and drags her back down on top of him.

“It’s okay, Robs, you don’t have to do anything. Promise me you won’t hurt him?”

“Ugh, fine. I promise or whatever,” she reluctantly agrees, and lays her head back down on his chest.

A beat of silence, then—

“Can I at least punch him a little?”

A pause.

“Okay, I’ll let you get away with that,” Steve amends. “But only light punching. I know you know how to throw a mean right hook and if I see Eddie with even a single bruise on his pretty face I think I’ll go into mourning.”

Robin giggles at his statement, and Steve just rolls his eyes at her before letting out a giggle of his own.

“I’m serious!” He tries to be stern, but the giddy smile on his face is a far cry from the nature of his words.

“I know, I know,” Robin says, holding back another wave of giggles. “Man, you’re really gone on him, aren’t you?”

Steve nods sadly.

“I want to tell him that I like him, Robs, but I can’t,” he confesses. “It’s.. it’s breaking me inside, to have all these feelings for someone and know you can never do anything about it.”

“Steve…”

“It’s terrifying just thinking about telling him because what if? What if he thinks I’m just fucking with him and shuts me out completely? What if he’s a homophobe or thinks that I just wanna use him as an experiment or something? Cause I don’t, not like that.”

“Steve,” she tries to interject, knowing that he’s working himself up. He ignores her.

“But as much as I hate holding all this… all this shit inside, it's still better than telling him. I don’t…I don’t think I could handle it if he rejected me,” he finishes. The ‘I don’t think I could survive it’ goes unsaid, but not unheard.

He finally looks at her, and she notes the sad acceptance in his eyes. His face threatens to crumble, as does hers, but they hold it together.

“Robbie, am I crazy for feeling like this?” He asks, voice a near whisper. “For falling for someone who hates me?”

She smiles sadly, placing a hand on his cheek and causing a tear to fall from his eye. She wipes it away with her thumb.

“You’re not crazy, Steve,” she reassures. “I know how it feels, how scary it is to like someone like that. It sucks, but it’ll only get better if you talk about it.”

He smiles a little. “I do feel a little better now, actually.”

“See? Talking helps, and I’m always here to listen,” she insists. She lays her head back down on his chest, not taking her hand away from his face, and slowly wipes away the stray tears that fall from his eyes. She vaguely registers that her thumb is acting as a mini windshield wiper for his face. The thought makes her smile.

Steve takes a deep breath, the movement causing her head to raise with it, and she knows there’s something else on his mind. She waits.

“Is…” he whispers, hesitating. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just… I like boys, but I like girls too. That part hasn’t changed for me but… can I do that? Like, is that…” he trails off. “Is that allowed?”

“Yeah, Steve, that’s allowed. You can like whoever you want to, it doesn’t change who you are,” she reassures. Steve lets out a breath, like he was holding it in lieu of her answer.

“But… What am I then? I mean… I can’t be half gay and half straight, right?” He asks.

At that, Robin thinks back to a few zines she got on her and Steve’s first trip to Indy. She had been wanting to go ever since she came out to Steve on the grimy bathroom floor high on drugs, when he had accepted her with no questions asked. She had always heard things about Indianapolis, about how it was so much different than the little town of Hawkins. How there were so many more people, so many different types of people, and she just had to see it for herself.

A couple months after Starcourt, when school was just beginning to take off, Robin had asked if they could go on a day trip somewhere, just to get out before they were stuck there for the winter months and holidays. Steve had agreed, of course, and they piled in his fancy car and made short work of the two-hour trip to the city.

It was bigger than they expected, people milling about the streets and tall buildings surrounding them. Parking was a total bitch, but once they got their feet on the ground there was no stopping them. They bought shitty hot dogs off the street, popped into a bunch of little stores for the sole reason just to look, and even ventured into the fancy stores to make fun of their obscene prices.

“Robs! I want you to guess how much this shirt is.”

“Uh… like ten bucks?”

“Try seventy-five.”

“Holy shit! It’s so ugly!!”

“I know! God, rich people are weird.”

“Steve… you are rich.”

“Yeah, but I have taste. That’s different.”

“Keep telling yourself that, dingus.”

They were beginning their trek back to the car when a small, multi-colored flash caught her eye. A rainbow flag sticker was stuck to the store-front window of a small record shop, and Robin immediately grabbed Steve and pulled him in.

“Robs, what—“

“Shut up, and come with me. I might’ve found something.”

She didn’t wait for his response, only shoved open the shop door with a huff. The bell above her jingled, and a woman behind the counter nearby looked up from a magazine on the desk below her.

“Hi there, welcome to Rainbow Records!” The lady greeted them. “New releases are in this bin here,” she gestured to a bin full of records next to her, “and all other records are sorted by genre and alphabetically.”

Immediately, Robin was in love with her. She had long black hair that was shaved on the sides, the top of it pulled back into a sort of half-bun. Her ears were full of piercings, some dangling almost to her shoulders, that matched the flowy skirt she was wearing.

She felt Steve nudge her with his elbow, and that was when she realized she had been staring rather intently with her mouth hanging open like a newborn baby bird waiting for its mama to puke up worm goo for food. She snapped it closed with an audible click.

“Sorry, uh… Hi! Thank you for uh— that. I… um,” she floundered and pointed to herself. “Robin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Robin. I’m Delia,” she responded, smiling before looking her up and down.

“We also have a room in the back you might be interested in. There’s an assortment of different media back there I think you’ll enjoy,” Delia said before she winked at her, and Robin knew she was in the right place.

“Well, Robs?” Steve spoke up behind her, quiet enough to not be overheard. She had almost forgotten he was there. “You wanna go look?”

It was more than a question, it was an out. It was his way of asking if she was ready, if she wanted him to be a part of this, too. If she wanted him to be a part of this stage in her life, this self-discovery.

She looked back at her best friend, whose face was so open and earnest that it made a huge smile bloom on her face.

“Hell yeah,” she said with a grin. “Let's do this, dingus!”

She grabbed his hand and walked up to the counter, and Delia pointed her head towards a small hallway on the other side of the room that Robin only just now noticed.

“It’s back there whenever you’re ready to look,” she informed. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. Both of you.”

“Thanks, Delia,” Robin responded, blushing enough to be seen from outer space, and looked up at Steve, whose face was a similar shade of red. She rolled her eyes and dragged Steve behind her into the room.

It was dimly lit, giving it a cozy atmosphere that made her feel completely at home. Posters and colorful flags lined the walls, with pictures of queer artists and figures as well as local drag queens and advertisements for different underground clubs filling in the gaps. There were different sections for movies, books, music, and magazines, all with different subcategories depending on which sexualities they included.

Robin’s eyes began to sting. She had spent years of her life feeling like the only person in the world, knowing that she would never find anyone like her in Hawkins and trying miserably to make peace with that. Then Steve came along and accepted her with open arms and zero complaints, and it made her feel a little less lonely.

But now, looking at a room filled from wall to wall with things by people like her? By people who knew what it was like to fall for people society says you shouldn’t fall for, by people who have defied what society said and expressed themselves anyway? It was enough to bring her to tears.

“Woah, hey, Robbie,” Steve began, moving in front of her to block her view. His hands came to rest on her cheeks, wiping away her tears as they fell. “What’s wrong? Is it too much?”

Robin shook her head, clenching her eyes closed.

“Happy tears,” she laughs wetly, hand coming up to wipe away a tear that snaked its way under her chin. “They’re happy tears, promise.”

Steve pulled her into a tight hug, hands wrapping solidly around her and she instantly felt better. She melted into him and hugged him back, and the two of them stayed there until she pulled away.

“Alright, help me find some hot women, okay?”

Steve laughed that big, loud laugh of his and Robin couldn’t help but to join him. They sorted through all of it; books, movies, and magazines alike. She went home that night with two books, a handful of magazines, and more knowledge than she ever imagined having about being queer.

It was time she put it to good use.

“Have you ever heard of the term ‘bisexual’?” She asks. He shakes his head. “It means liking both, Steve.”

He goes silent, so quiet she would have thought he stopped breathing too if she wasn’t still laying on his chest. His mouth silently forms the word, before a smile breaks out on his face.

“Bisexual. I think… I think that’s me,” he confirms.

“Now tell me properly this time,” she suggests. He smiles at her, and she can’t contain a smile of her own.

“I’m bisexual, Robbie,” he says, his words full of genuine confidence.

“Thank you for telling me, Steve.”

They smile at each other, both so wide she’s surprised their faces haven’t split in half yet. She scoots up to wrap him in a hug, laughing a little when his arms immediately squeeze her back.

Turns out her best friend, her platonic with a capital P soulmate, is more like her than she thought.

———

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[viking-raider]

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (review)

9.5/10 would recommend!

I loved this movie, it was great! It has Guy Richie all over it and such a brilliant way. I'm not giving it the full ten, cause you know the historian in me, there are a couple points that were "that didn't happen" but let's forget that!

Alan as Lassen, oh my GoSH! As a Swede, I have the straight giggles with his accent (and Henry's attempted at the start of the film) But Lassen is such an adorable little Nazi stabber xD I got halfway through the movie when I was like, why aren't they not nicknaming him Legolas! Lassen and Gus's relationship is humorous, school boys. How Lassen just flirts with the boys. I just got the feels for Lassen, and Alan.

Hero Fiennes Tiffin and Henry Golding are great together. Fredrick's fire pyro ways really get the boys out of trouble, when they get themselves neck deep in it. He's really quite good with an explosive with such a calm, unless he can't blow something up xD Hayes's an excellent sailor, but give him a Gatling gun and he will rip through Nazis like Freddy can blow them up.

Appleyard is amazing at plans, especially when the first four have gone to shite.

Now, Gus. Mmm, man is missing a screw or two, but with what screws he has left, he's great at using them. With a lively laugh, sense of humor and a wagging tongue. If he can't have something or sees something he likes, he'll just take it. But he, like the rest of his crew, has a heart of gold.

What I find interesting about this film is, despite being a film of stopping Nazis, and killing dozens of them, you see little of their actual agenda and infection. You just see the boys having fun, creative ways of killing them and them trying to execute the mission they were sent on by M and Churchill.

It was a wild ride that I rather enjoyed. I suppose that's why, as I write this, I'm (yet again) fifteen minutes deep into a re-watch. xD

[kerokerokook]

the rebound girl: chapter two

pairing: nerd pro-gamer jeongguk x reader

word count: 25.5k wtf

warnings for this chapter: oc just goes for it, jeongguk is hot as usual, lots of kissing, finally some smut, first time, virgin jk!, subby jk! with dom! reader at first but that changes, oral (m. receiving), oral fixation, fingering, jeongguk does the lower stomach trick from tiktok (iykyk), he's a little shit but it's okay.

other tags: lots of overthinking, oc goes back and forth a whole bunch (she's confused and hurt ok), jeongguk is a giant MF green flag (obvi), vmin and 2yeon being chaotically gay ofc, some brief physics mentioned, a bit of angst, oc has been hurt in her teen years.

a/n: sorry this took 9 million years but ya girl just got into her masters program!! hopefully, i can update this once/twice a month? maybe even more but, that's the plan!

enjoy :)

<3 mal

original post

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The first day of school hit you in the face like a speeding fourteen-wheel truck. 

Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration because you’ve known the date since the beginning of summer break but time flew by so quickly that you couldn’t believe September was starting and another school year was too. 

Soon, you’ll graduate and get a job and move on from all of the shit you’ve gone through to become a whole adult. It’s terrifying yet exciting all at once. 

Fortunately, you picked out your outfit last night: baggy blue jeans, a white cropped tank top and an oversized black corduroy button up shirt. It’s simple and comfy which you always prefer for school outfits. Simple gold jewelry sits on your neck and in your ears and you keep your hair back with a clear claw clip. You keep your makeup light, being that you’ll be back home in a few hours where you’ll just slip back into your pajamas and do nothing for the rest of the day.

While packing your things, you make sure to tuck Jeongguk’s t-shirt that you’ve washed and his umbrella into your backpack, then give Snowball her last few pets for the day while checking her food and water bowl. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours cutie,” you coo, scratching underneath her chin. Her head tilts up, a content smile on her cute face, eyes shut while pushing into your touch.

Adopting Snowball sort of just happened. You were lonely last Winter break after a guy you met in your Economic Growth Seminar had moved on and your mom was talking about how your neighbor’s cat just had a litter of kittens. Thankfully, your landlord was okay with pets and boom, there was a little fluff ball making your day better little by little. After a long day, there was nothing you liked doing more than stroking her soft fur and listening to music or throwing a movie on while she purrs right next to you. She’s a great comfort to you and your friends love her too.

Tearfully, you rip yourself away from your little baby and step outside of your comfortable apartment. The hallway is empty at this time. Your building has mostly college students and a few bachelors and bachelorettes here and there so it’s surprising that no one else is walking out at the same time as you. But that’s fine. No polite greetings necessary. You put your headphones in, play some music and begin your trek to school. 

Living one subway ride away from university is a privilege. It never takes you that long to get to class and it’s easy to get back home. It’s the best thing about living here. 

Plus in the springtime, the blossoms decorate the streets with little pink petals and it’s a sight to see. 

On the way down the subway steps, you check your schedule once more just to be sure of your class load today. You have a 9am lecture, then an 11:30am lecture and then a discussion at 1:45 but those only start the second week of school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you have classes from 8am-3pm which sounds like ass now that you think about it. 

Fuck, were you drunk when you selected these courses? 

You shake your head. Whatever, not like there’s much you can do now, right? At least you’ll be busy so less time to mess around. 

Your walk down the steps continues and you shove your phone into your jean pocket as you rush over to make the train before your first class, taking out your metro-card.

After dodging some lethargic businessmen and starstruck tourists, you manage to reach the train with a few seconds to spare. There’s a towards the back so you quickly walk over and grab the handle when there’s a vibration against your ass. 

Confused, you pull your phone out. It’s probably a tiktok sent to you by Jeongyeon of a cat with a funny filter on or something but the screen shows the message icon and you use FaceID to unlock your phone to see who the sender was.

It’s a text from Jeongguk. 

jeon jeongguk

hey

do you want to give me the stuff outside the engineering building?

maybe around 1? 

by stuff i mean my shirt and umbrella

You smile to yourself. The fact that he felt the need to explain what he meant by stuff is unbelievably adorable to you. 

me 

sure, i’ll be there :) 

You almost wonder what Jeongguk’s schedule is like but you stop yourself quickly. You tried to not to think too much about him on Sunday when you got back. It was enough that his sweet smelling shirt was on your body and you still had the lingering imprint of his hug on your skin but now that you know he  goes to the same school, you’ll become more interested and you can’t. Jeongguk isn’t going to be the next boy to occupy your mind. 

This year is going to be different. You won’t be the rebound girl anymore, you won’t sleep with guys from your school, and you won’t give in. 

After everything that went down with Wooshik, it’s just better for you to distance yourself from this stupid label of rebound girl. It’s done nothing but hurt you and worsen your relationship with the people in your department. First year you were hanging out and eating with them and now all you have are Nayeon and Jeongyeon. Not that you don’t like them but you just hate what being the rebound girl has done to your college life.

Your mother used to say your college years are your prime years to be young and stupid and learn about life. 

But college is nothing special to you. The classes are harder, people are smarter, meaner, better, and all you can do is push yourself to do the best that you can. Sometimes it’s enough, sometimes it isn’t. Your friends are great and you’ve made some good memories, but so far, college isn’t that coming-of-age life lesson that your mother always talked about. 

You’re not particularly upset about it. You just wished you could do more. Live your life without eyes all over you and whispers at every mistake. 

As the train lets you off at your spot, you make sure to triple check your schedule for the day so you know where you’re going after your first class. 

9am is your Macroeconomics lecture in the Economics building which is fine. Your professor is nice and the class seems interesting enough that you know you’ll do well. Mostly test based which won’t be a problem because economics is your thing. You’ve been studying it diligently for three years now so you can confidently say that. 

But 11:30 is your worst nightmare: physics. 

This is all your fault. Nayeon told you to get all of your general education requirements out of the way quickly your first and second year so that you wouldn’t have to worry about them later but you didn’t listen. 

Look, science is simply not your thing. High school courses were hell on earth thanks to your asshole of a Chemistry teacher. You managed to gaslight yourself into thinking math was easy enough as long as you studied like a mad person and got those requirements out of the way but science is hell on earth for you. Your university requires one life science and two physical sciences. Life science was an easy choice: zoology. You got to learn about cute animals and watch videos about them. First semester of your first year was easy. 

Then you decided to take Geology for physical science during your second semester. It sounded easy but memorizing all of those different rock formations was starting to wear you out from the inside. Somehow you managed a B. And after that, it was either meteorology, astronomy, or some form of physics since every other course required you to be enrolled in the Physical Sciences department or have some prerequisite that you didn’t want to take. None of the options sounded appealing to you so you put it off until now. Then, when the realization hit that you had only one more year after this to make up for all of those credits, you decided astronomy might be the best choice after reading some professor reviews. 

Only for you to sleep through registration and wake up in a frenzy to find the class completely full. 

Yeah, you almost started crying.

So physics it was and, how wonderful, the only class available was with an unlikeable teacher that has a horrible rating. Amazing. 

Panic floods your system as you walk into the large lecture hall. You aim for a seat in the middle, take out your supplies, and start diligently listening. Your professor is a stout, sad, little man who is trying to improve his professor score online so thankfully, he says he’s going to be more lenient when it comes to tests but demands that homework be turned in on time otherwise points will be deducted. Fair enough. You could do that. 

But then he starts going into course material. 

Energy; alright. 

Motion; cool. 

Thermodynamics; okay.

Optics; excuse me?

Electromagnetism; sound the alarms. 

This class is going to kill you. Even if it’s Physics 1 and your class is filled with mostly underclassmen, you know you won’t grasp the concepts easily with all of your other classes weighing down on your head. There’s so much to do and so little time to do it all. 

“.. previous students of mine have so graciously offered tutoring hours so if any of you are confused, I highly recommend meeting up with them and going over concepts. They have taken my tests before so they know what to expect. It is the best way to ensure you do well.”

Most of the students behind you have gone to sleep or started scrolling through their phones but you have a lightbulb moment. 

Perfect, okay. All you have to do is check the list of tutors online and schedule appointments with them. Shouldn’t be that bad.  Another thing to be strict about. 

This is just what you wanted: a tight enough schedule to keep you too busy to think about anything else.

Once class is over, you pack all of your things and check your phone once more. Jeongguk said he’d be outside the engineering building which is close to the physical sciences building. The time reads 12:50pm so you have some time to make your way outside. 

So far, the first day has ended and it’s gone pretty well. You’ll go back home, create a strict study table on your Notion, rent all of your books and then relax for the rest of the day. Then the rest of this week should be smooth sailing as you get into the groove with your new professors. Nayeon and Jeongyeon are going to meet you at your place for home-cooked dinner this Friday( a little first week back tradition) which you’re excited for.  You should look up some recipes and make sure Nayeon stays out of your kitchen so she won’t blow anything up. That girl is incapable of not making a disaster in the kitchen. 

You sigh through your nose, studying the sights you see on campus. Various students walking in small triplets or duos. The occasional lone wolf with headphones on to block out the world. Some clubs are putting up posters or setting up tables to grab first years as they explore campus. The path that is currently running outside the STEM buildings break off into various courtyards and cafes where students of all departments come to chill or cut through to go to their other classes. 

It’s about to be a great scenic walk just until you run into Wooshik and his buddies as they’re exiting a café with drinks in their hands. 

Kill me now. 

You pause like a deer in headlights when you make eye contact with him, stopping midway so your lips can part as your entire body goes stuff. 

Now, more than anything, you really wish you were walking with someone. 

“Hey,” Wooshik forces out, crossing his arms over his chest. His polo shirt is open enough to show a random cluster of dark hickeys from the middle of his throat to the beginning of his chest. Real subtle. 

Before seeing that, you were thinking about apologizing but now, not so much. 

“Hi,” your tone is short. You can feel eyes dance over your body, the swell of your breasts and the sliver of skin revealed between your crop top and pants from one of his creepy pals behind him and you have half a mind to kick him in the balls. 

Wooshik’s eyes bounce back and he juts his face forward like he’s waiting for you to say something to him but you keep your lips perfectly sealed. If he wants an apology, he can wait until he’s dead. His other friends exchange weird looks at the lack of conversation going on between you two, probably wondering if this standoff is going to linger forever. 

It makes you wonder what Wooshik told them. 

Guys love having their ego fluffed. If they get rejected by a girl, they’ll tell their best friends that she was an ugly slut or they’ll flip the story to say that they rejected her to save face. The last thing they want their friends to know is that a girl rejected them. It dims their coolness. However, you really don’t give a fuck about Wooshik looking cool in front of his boys. If anything, you revel in the cutting deflation he’ll feel when you tell them the truth. 

“Did you get the wine out of your shirt?” You ask innocently. “I should’ve aimed it more towards your face and less towards your clothes.” Shrugging, a satisfied smile grows on your lips. 

Wooshik’s ears turn red. “I–” he cuts eye contact as his friends snicker behind him. You watch in satisfaction as his expression changes from surprised to annoyed to angry. “You know what, fuck you. You ruined my shirt. I had to take that hot waitress back to my place instead of a hotel so I didn’t reek of wine.”  

You scoff immediately. “Damn and I was trying to do her a favor. But congrats, looks like you got your tiny dick wet for two minutes.” You start to clap. One of his friends chokes back a splutter of laughter at the jab. 

Wooshik wasn’t anything amazing but you sort of expected that. Most of your hookups are satisfactory. They get the job done and they give up. As stupid as it sounds, you’ve always gone above and beyond to pleasure someone. There’s something amazing about making your partner feel good but most men see sex in a selfish lens. 

For most guys, sex means sticking their dick in and sloshing it around a few times until they feel good. Boom, sex over. 

Now, if they want to make you feel good, it still won’t be about you. Orgasms are like points. They don’t get off on your pleasure but more on the fact that they’re so amazing at sex that you experienced pleasure. Another way to fluff their egos. 

For once, you’d wish for a guy to actually care about you and your pleasure in an unselfish way, the same way you do for them. 

Wooshik stumbles for a moment but he jumps back quickly to get you too. Especially with all of his boys watching. 

“You didn’t seem to complain about it at first. What, changed your mind because I didn’t want you anymore?” 

Oh, please. A plastic vibrator has done more for you than he ever will. 

You laugh sardonically. “No, I just felt bad for you.” You say it wholeheartedly and it's the most truthful you’ve ever been with him. 

His friends then burst into giggles and snickers, shoving him around when he fails to retort, left dumbfounded by the sheer audacity of you but you don’t care. You don’t get to see the look on Wooshik’s face but you don’t care. The laughter is your cue to leave him. 

 That chapter of your life is over now and you won’t ever have to deal with him again. The last man you’ll let trample all over you the minute you show them some sympathy. 

All you can hope is that the pesky nickname that’s been poisoning you since your first year college can fade away into obscurity forever and ever. 

Then, you can just be you. No label, no nickname, no reputation. Just a regular college senior. 

The walk to the engineering building is lighter now. You feel like one of the falling petals gently flying through the sky from the branch down to the ground. A new journey begins and you can’t wait for it. 

After another minute of walking, you reach the engineering building. Painted a soft brown with tons of posters and clubs waiting to talk to students. You dodge all of them to head inside where Jeongguk is waiting by a random classroom. You navigate through the crowd until you finally locate a  mop of gorgeous dark hair and bright clear eyes. 

He’s facing his phone screen, one leg crossed over the other, but you’re still mesmerized by him. Beauty is in simplicity but with a face like that, Jeongguk could wear a burlap sack and make it work. But currently, he’s dressed in baggy gray cargos and a dark blue long-sleeve shirt with some brand name logo on it. The urge to sigh like a satisfied cartoon character is intense. 

You hate and love it at the same time. How on earth can he look so boyfriend without trying? 

“Hey, Jeongguk,” you call softly, taking short strides towards him, hoping that your hair looks good and not like a frizzy mess from the wind. 

His head pops up, glimmering eyes like two black pools of water gazing back at you. Then a soft grin forms on his lips, skin creasing, dimpling, and cute. 

“Hey.” Jeongguk tucks his phone into his pants pocket. His perfume wafts over to you the moment he moves, welcoming you like a warm hug after a long day. 

You want to bury your nose in it and never forget the smell. 

“Sorry, I got caught up with something on the way here. Were you waiting for a while?”

“Nah, I’ve been here for like two minutes. Did you bring it?” He adjusts his bag for a moment. 

“Yep.” You hand him the shirt, neatly folded and smelling of your fabric softener, along with the umbrella tied. “All clean.” A cute smile grows on his face as he gently takes the items and puts it in his bag, humming excitedly under his breath which makes your entire body warm. “Listen, are you off for the rest of the day?” 

“Yeah, I have all morning classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. You?”  

“Same and it just so happens that I needed a walking buddy to the subway station.”  You take the first step towards the exit when he agrees with a short chuckle and a nod. Your apartment building is one stop away while Jeongguk is about four stops away so you won’t get to talk much but the sentiment is what matters. 

Plus, all you really want is to be close to him and his family again. There was a real bond going on when you were young and now you’ve been handed a golden chance to reignite that spark. 

Fresh air fills your lungs while your ears pick up on the sounds of fading conversations, the smell of food and new school supplies greets your nose. You have yet to reach the economics building, where more people know you, so people here aren’t staring just yet. They’re preoccupied with their own lives and you want to appreciate it for a little longer. 

“By the way, thanks for Saturday. I’m sure dealing with five drunk weirdos must’ve been annoying,” you add. 

You barely remember the words coming out of your mouth. It was a slew of garbled song lyrics, high thoughts and giggles and that’s the best you can do. There’s no way Jeongguk was walking out of the night sane.  

He huffs out a laugh and then shakes his hair out of his eyes in a very attractive manner. “It was… well, it was something, I’ll tell you that much. But you don’t have to apologize. I don’t mind.” Then Jeongguk looks at you with his chin tilted down, lids low, almost glazed over like he’s checking you out but his gaze just dances over the features of your face. 

You get incredibly shy with him staring at you like that. 

Let’s hope you aren’t turning tomato red right now. 

“Jimin and Tae go out a lot so I’m used to making sure they don’t, like, die.” 

Jeongguk is like Jeongyeon in that sense. Always taking care of people and making sure they are safe in bed before worrying about themselves. Sometimes, she forgets that she’s allowed to have fun and let loose too and you don’t want Jeongguk to fall into the same mindset. Being the caretaker all the time can be draining. 

“I mean, it’s your birthday and the rest of us were getting fucked up. Usually, it’s the other way around.” 

Your 20th was nothing short of a hot mess. Nayeon snuck in bottles she got her older brother to buy and you tried to take a shot from every single type he brought. Whiskey, vodka, soju, sake, and beer. Safe to say, that was a rookie mistake that ended up hunched over a toilet bowl  for almost an hour. Nayeon held your hair while Jeongyeon ordered just enough carbs and hangover soup to make it all better. 

But it was a memory you hold dear to you because it was one of the last moments you felt like it was okay for you to be a stupid teenager and make a mistake.

Jeongguk didn’t get that moment and you want him to because that sloppy behavior won’t be cute when he’s in his late 20s or early 30s. 

“I didn’t want to,” he shrugs simply. “Drinking is sorta fun but I don’t love it and I never let myself get super drunk.” You want to ask why but Jeongguk continues speaking. “But we had cake and barbecue before coming to the club and my parents sent a care package, so it was a good birthday. Taking care of you guys didn’t ruin everything.” 

You relent a little. Perceptions of fun are different after all and maybe, for Jeongguk, he got exactly what he wanted so he isn’t complaining. The residual guilt fades slowly inside of you.

“As long as you enjoyed your birthday,” you sigh, a wave of something sentimental coming over you causes your heels to raise up so you can be tall enough to ruffle his fluffy perfect hair. The same boy who only dressed in Pokémon shirts is now legal, old enough to do whatever he wants, and you’re starting to feel a little soft about it. “Can’t believe you’re twenty!” You squeal. “You’re all grown up!” 

Jeongguk cringes, turning away from your constant pinches and prods and whining as a few eyes drift towards the two of you. His ears get the tiniest bit red but he doesn’t scold you so you continue teasing him. 

“Remember when you used to hand draw all of my birthday cards with little cartoons and you and Eunchae would come with my mom and I to look at all of the cakes at the store?”

The filmstrip of memories is painfully nostalgic. That one nice cake store a few streets away from your apartment building that made the best cakes. If you close your eyes, you can smell the sugary air as you walk in, a tinkling bell on the door to let the owners know someone was there, and the various cakes put in the display case. You always got the fudgiest chocolate cake with bright red strawberries on top. Your mom could only afford the small size but that was fine. You just wanted a cake. 

Jeongguk would come with you and press his face to the glass in complete awe. Sometimes, the three of you would pretend like you were rich people who got to buy big cakes whenever they pleased and you’d pick the biggest sizes of your favorite flavors. 

You always got chocolate, Jeongguk got some sort of fruit while Eunchae would get red velvet and you would dream of the day when you had enough money to indulge yourself on a whim. . 

Then, when Jeongguk’s mom opened up her bakery, she began making your birthday cakes so the three of you sort of got your wish but those were free. Made with love and compassion until you moved too far to feel it. 

“You still remember all of that?” He asks. The stone pathway turns. A signal that the economics building is getting closer by the second. 

Trying not to think about it, you answer him. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” You’ve always had impeccable memory but you treasured every second of your childhood. 

Because your later teens, in Seoul and away from all that you knew, were terrible. 

“I barely remembered what I ate yesterday,” Jeongguk laughs, staring over at you. “That’s pretty impressive.” 

“You think so?” You turn to look at him when you feel his eyes linger for longer than usual. His stare isn’t piercing but it leaves a viable imprint on your skin like a thick layer of lotion. “What?” You get self-conscious. Is there something in your hair? Did a bird shit on you without you noticing? 

“I like your hair,” Jeongguk says after a moment, pointing to the clear clip holding all of your hair up. 

A few of the shorter strands come out from the tight hold with time, framing your face, while the rest remain bunched up with a large claw clip. It’s such an effortless look. This morning you were too lazy to fully style your hair with a hair dryer and a brush after spending too much time on it for your sham date with Wooshik. It’s starting to get a little greasy so you plan to wash it tomorrow but this is your go-to dirty hair look. 

“Oh, thanks.” A goofy grin nearly breaks out onto your face but you stop it halfway. “I like your earrings.” You want to return Jeongguk’s compliment with one of your own. Your pointer finger runs through the three thick hoops like a wind chime, causing Jeongguk’s shoulder to rise up thanks to the ticklish sensation, getting shy. “How on earth did your mom allow all of these piercings?” 

Mrs. Jeon lost her shit when a 14-year-old you greeted her with a second hole in your ears when she was coming home from the grocery store.  An upperclassman offered to pierce everyone’s ears using the nurses supplies in exchange for cigarettes or candy from a nearby convenience store. Since she was your guardian for the day while your mom was out for a certification exam, she felt irresponsible but you assured her that your mom was okay with it. 

Well, she had no idea at the time but you knew she’d get over it at some point. It was a second ear piercing, not like you got a tattoo on your forehead. 

“These were all presents, actually.” Your fingers brush the back of his palm as you get closer to the economics building at the end of the road, a little before the sidewalk down the main road begins, as your dread multiplies. “I learned that from you. Convinced mom and dad that my good grades warranted some award and they had no choice but to say yes.”

A dangerously familiar feeling mixed with pride courses through your veins like the newest drug. Jeongguk says he doesn’t remember much but he manages to reach in and pull out a sickly sweet memory from your childhood that has your insides turning into mush. You almost want to wrap your arms around your stomach to get it to stop flipping so much. 

You didn’t ask for much as a kid. Growing up you knew that money was tight so expensive things like the best console or brand name clothes were simply out of the question. But you liked to barter with your mom for more simple things. A good grade for ice cream or a day at the beach or a trip to the bookstore to buy a manga edition you’ve been waiting to read. 

It wasn’t all the time but when you felt like you wanted to celebrate yourself. You earned it after all. 

Then you got a little older and you wanted to become like the cool older girls you went to school with. So you dropped ice cream for piercings, nail polish, and CDs from all of the new idol groups that were popular at the time. Your mom was frugal of course, most of your stuff was cheap from the local dollar store or second hand markets, but she loved to treat you. She wished she could spoil you one day, buy you everything you could lay your eyes on, however the universe didn’t allow her to do that. 

She still can’t but that’s okay. You’re glad you didn’t grow up a spoiled brat. That you learned humility and patience and empathy because it’s those traits that set you apart from most of your classmates. 

“I taught you well.” Fingers itching to flick his chin, you hold back. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable with all of the touching. 

Jeongguk hums. “Got these and these,” he turns his head to the other side to show you almost five studs in his ear, “after my class rank and CSAT score came out.”  

“Didn’t that hurt?” 

You do your best to keep your eyes either on the ground or on Jeongguk as the almighty building comes into view. Despite the heavy beating in your chest, your inner turmoil shouldn’t be obvious. 

Jeongguk doesn’t need to know about your problems. Those are yours and yours alone. 

“Yeah but it wasn’t unbearable. I swear, Eunchae almost passed out when she got her doubles. She hates needles.” 

You laugh. “I remember. Your sister was freaking out when we were all getting our vaccines because she literally slithered down onto the floor the moment she saw the thing.” 

Jeongguk hums. There’s a small break in the conversation as the two of you pass by a huge yet short wave crowd of people who are either rushing to the cafeteria or to their next class but even through all of that, you can feel eyes all over the two of your backs. Especially yours. 

Your department members linger by the vending machines and smoking areas in little judgmental pods,  whispering about you amongst themselves. 

You can predict what they’re saying. 

There she goes again, latching onto another guy after Wooshik dumped her poor pathetic ass. 

Will she ever learn? 

Poor thing. He probably doesn’t know that he’s dealing with the campus whore. 

That word. That one word, repeats in your mind. Whore, whore, whore. That’s all you’ll ever be to them. 

Fear sets in. What will they say about Jeongguk? Will he get teased? Will he find out about your reputation and want nothing to do with you afterwards? No, the last thing you want is for him to get tangled in all of this. He shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. Know about all of the things people whisper about you when they think you aren’t listening.

At some point, he’ll find out. No matter how hard you try to hide it, push it down, pretend everything is okay, Jeongguk will come to know what everyone thinks of you and all of the nasty vitriol they throw your way. 

And when he does, you’re going to have to learn to let go of whatever you two have right now and whatever builds in your heart until all you have left to cling to Jeongguk are the sweet memories of your life in Busan. 

Because that’s how it goes for you. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jeongguk stumbles into his apartment and throws his backpack onto his gaming chair, quickly calculating the amount of free time he has right now. 

 He has a group match in about two hours for League of Legends and he plans on canceling on them since he had to wake up early today. Jeongguk’s sleep schedule was fucked up all summer and suddenly, waking up at 6am instead of going to bed around then was quite literally torture. 

There’s no guilt when Jeongguk texts them. He doesn’t owe his teammates anything, not like he’s joined a real league anyways. He has other priorities. 

Now that he’s a student again, his sleep schedule sort of matters. His mother would cry learning about the absolute buffoonery he was committing over summer session with his new league he met online. Playing various games until the sun was peeking through his blinds and then ordering breakfast from McDonald’s while entering another battle. Usually that would entice him but all he feels is exhaustion. 

Most of it is from lugging his heavy ass backpack around all day in the sun. Some of it is still from this weekend. There’s a reason Jeongguk isn’t an avid partier. 

Quickly, he throws whatever pre-packaged dish he bought into the microwave and changes out of his school clothes into some sweatpants and a different shirt. All part of his usual after school routine. Then he carefully takes the steaming plate out once it’s done and sets it on the counter to cool before going to the bathroom to wash his hands. 

As he walks through his hall, something presses into the soles of his feet. It’s soft but flexible and round with a hard plastic bit strung onto it that digs into his skin.

“Ouch!” He stops midway, moving his foot and staring at the mystery item. Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow at first. 

It looks like one of Taehyung’s many charm bracelets that he buys from those street vendors in Hongdae with the cute little charms around colored string. Jeongguk has one from him ( a black string with a baby pink bunny charm that he wears every now and then). The idiot probably dropped it while singing karaoke or doing his Scarface impersonation to make Jimin laugh. Jeongguk takes his phone out to text the guy but he realizes that Taehyung hasn’t been to his apartment in a few days. 

The only other person that has been here was… you. 

He bends down to look at the bracelet. Were you wearing one that night? Your bracelets didn't look like this. They were metal, not string. Jeongguk bends at the knees and picks it up. The string is elastic and stretchy but loose enough to fit around his wrist if needed. 

Oh, it’s a hair tie. 

You must’ve dropped it when you slept over. Jeongguk turns the thing around to see the charm. The elastic itself is plain black but the charm seems to be some Sanrio character that he recognizes but cannot remember the name of.

Hello Kitty? No, he knows her and she doesn’t look like this. 

Cinnamoroll? No, that’s a puppy. This is some weird purple looking thing. 

My Melody? Maybe. 

Fuck, he doesn’t have time to worry about this. Jeongguk shoves the damn thing in his pocket, makes a mental reminder to text you about it after eating lunch, and goes to quickly wash his hands. His fingers push the door open to his bathroom. Clean white tiles, the scent diffuser smelling of white musk, and his TMNT towel drying on the rack. 

Jeongguk looks up at himself in the mirror. His eyes are sunken in and a little swollen from the lack of sleep. His stomach rumbles as he lathers his hands in his fresh cotton hand soap. 

But all he can think about is you on that night. 

Saturday Night. 

The night felt never-ending. 

Jeongguk was doing his best to get everyone in a car ride home safely after song after song on the dance floor but he was getting a little overwhelmed with all that was thrown onto him in the span of a few short minutes when Nayeon decided she wanted to go home.

Laughing, tripping, complaining about vomiting, a smell coming from some random spot that’s making someone nauseous, Jeongguk felt like a parent trying to get their kids together. His phone was glued to his hands to call cabs and type in addresses while making sure the five of you didn’t wander off into the unknown without his supervision. 

Thankfully, one of your friends managed to usher the other into a cab and Jimin was able to shove a whiny Taehyung into the one Jeongguk had ordered so now all he had left was you. 

Drunk you was something else. Stuck onto him like a second layer, arms twined tightly around his waist, mumbling about something random while stumbling over every step. Jeongguk had half a mind to just pick you up and walk to where the guy had parked but he didn’t want to make your nausea even worse by swinging you around.  

“Wait! Jeongguk, I can’t find my phone, we have to go back,” you whined, tugging on his arm with one hand. “I-I can’t–hiccup–I can’t live without my-my phone!”

You were clutching your phone in your other hand. 

He sighed. “You’re holding it,” motioning to the device pressed into your fingers. “Come on, the cab is parked there.” The yellow thing looked like something descending from the heavens while the driver finished the last of his cigarette and belched loud enough for Jeongguk to hear. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay, I trust you.” You mumbles, hugging him close like he was a large pillow. 

The next few minutes passed by a bit quicker as you let Jeongguk help you into the car and started on your way back to his apartment since you and your friends were incapable of remembering your address. 

He leaned against the tough upholstery as the car began moving. Muscles tight and tired. Jeongguk felt the rivulets of sweat dripping down on his neck which he quickly wiped off and onto his pants, something he usually doesn't do but he’s at the state of not really giving a fuck about clothes he’s going to wash anyways. His body bobbles with a shaky turn and somehow, your limp body ends up pressed into his side, head leaning on his chest while a muffled groan leaves your painted lips.

“Ah s-sorry,” you slurred, attempting to sit up by placing a hand on Jeongguk’s mid-thigh. “I forgot to put on my belt.”  Your perfume flowed to him, a soft clean scent, maybe a bit sucrose when mixed with the scent of your shampoo. 

“Oh, the belt is finicky on that side, ma’am.” The driver informs. He meets both of your eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s okay. Lean on your boyfriend for the rest of the drive. Should only take a few more minutes!” 

Jeongguk opens his mouth to correct but you interrupt him with a giggle. His head switches to you, mouth covered, skin dimpling. “Boyfriend.” You repeat. 

The driver plays along, most likely very confused, just like Jeongguk. “You two make a lovely couple.”

That next statement makes you giggle a little more. Jeongguk wants to know what is so funny about this cab driver assuming the two of you are dating. Do you find the hypothetical to be so insanely outrageous that it’s hilarious?  Should he even bother asking or should he let it go to save himself the pain from hearing your brazenly honest answer?

Jeongguk chooses to ignore it. He knows another turn is coming up so he raises his left arm and nudges you closer to rest on him comfortably. That same arm circles around your shoulders and the top of your head tickles the bottom of Jeongguk’s nose. You’re warm and comforting after a long night, bringing up a slew of feelings he’s been pushing down for years at this point. 

Still mumbling to yourself, you become distracted with the jewelry on Jeongguk’s hand so you don’t hear the questions that the cab driver throws your way. 

“How long have you two been dating?” He asks, turning down the late night radio station playing old hits. 

Jeongguk just goes along with it. “It’s-uh-very recent, sir.” A four hour relationship to be exact. “But I’ve known her since we were kids.” 

“How cute! My wife and I only dated for a few months before I proposed, you know,” he proclaims proudly, shoulders broadening. Jeongguk nods and fakes a grin in hopes that the conversation ends here. 

Jeongguk wants to laugh. Marriage? 

He’s never even been in a relationship before. He’s barely gone past kissing someone for longer than two minutes. With the way things are going, Jeongguk will probably live his life exactly like Steve Carell in the movie The 40-year-old Virgin only there’s no way he’ll get a happy ending. 

The cab driver laughs to himself when he sees the look on Jeongguk's face before turning the music back up. You’ve successfully knocked out on Jeongguk’s chest so you miss the faint redness creeping up his neck and to his ears but it’s not something he wants you to see either. His brain zeros in on his own pathetic state of affairs. 

He’s always prided himself on his emotional maturity for someone so young but romantically? Horrendous. 

Jeongguk has always stood behind the belief that he simply isn’t meant to be in a relationship with anyone. Sometimes he can be too shy, too closed off, and people don’t gravitate towards people like that. They want someone who can be openly affectionate after a few conversations and Jeongguk simply isn’t the type. The only reason why he has friends like Taehyung and Jimin is because they made an effort to get to know him at his pace. It’s the same with you, who was older and a girl but you still made the effort to invite Jeongguk to watch Barbie movies or search for coins to get the cheapest candy at the convenience store. People usually don’t care after he brushes them off a few times but you did, Taehyung and Jimin did, and Jeongguk gets all fuzzy inside. 

Would he ever find someone like you three again? Would he ever be so lucky? Probably not. 

He looks over at your face smushed against his chest, playing with the zipper of his jacket. You’re so pretty, always have been, always will be, like a rare flower. Even after all of this time, he’s so taken aback by how effortlessly beautiful you are; on the outside and the inside. The way your hair falls delicately over your face, cheeks puffed, lips puckered; the way your shirt gives you an angelic look and your necklace lies perfectly in the middle of your collarbones. 

It’s enticing. Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off of you. He never could. 

Fuck, this random reunion might do more harm than good if Jeongguk doesn’t learn to control himself. This isn’t the time to reawaken old feelings that he pushed down for a good reason. 

Once the cab stops in front of his apartment building, Jeongguk pays him and then helps you out of the car. Body limp and slippery like slinky. 

“No, I forgot how to walk,” you mumbled, leaning against one of the pillars outside the building to keep yourself up straight. “Can’t I just sleep here? It’s comfortable.”

“That’s a concrete pillar.” Jeongguk runs a hand through his slightly dampened hair. “Come on, there’s an elevator and I don’t live too high up. You’ll sleep better on my bed.” 

A pout grows stronger on your face, a few streaks of something black collecting in the corner of your eyes and your lipstick is smeared a little but Jeongguk still finds you so put together and exquisite. Still like that rare flower on top of a mountain peak; beautiful yet impossible to reach. 

“Fine.” You peel yourself off the pillar. “But if you’re lying to me, I’m gonna pinch those cute little cheeks right off your face.” Squishing his flesh momentarily before dropping your hands, Jeongguk blinks a few times in shock. 

Focus, Jeon. She needs to rest. 

Getting you inside is easier than he thought. The promise of the elevator and a warm bed with some water turned you much more docile. But you’re still enamored by his rings which you slip on and off his fingers as the elevator beeps. Then, Jeongguk slips off your shoes and tells you to wait by the kitchen counter while he rifles through his things, handing you a shirt and directing you to the bathroom.

A loud sigh escapes his lips once he’s all alone. Jeongguk has about ten seconds to change himself. He’s been in these tight jeans that squeeze his legs like anything. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone so hard in the gym over the summer. Now most of his old clothes don’t fit him as well as they used to. 

Quickly, he throws on his pajamas just as you emerge from the bathroom and hum a random song from tonight. 

Then, he helps you into bed, groaning out at the soreness in his muscles from all of the lifting he’s been doing today.  You don’t fight back too much, clearly worn out, so you sink into the soft padding easily like a little kitten. He throws the blankets over you, does a quick check to see if you’re okay, and then gets into his own makeshift bed made out of a thin mattress and a set of sheets. 

It’s not nearly as comfortable as his own bed and his back might be mad at him tomorrow but it’ll do for now. 

Just as Jeongguk is beginning to fall into deep sleep, he hears you rusting around, mumbling under your breath about something. Your hands push yourself up on your elbows. For a second, he thinks you’re going to throw up so he gets up quickly and makes his way to his kitchen to grab a plastic bag. 

But you start speaking louder. 

“I can’t believe you, Seojoon.” Your hair sticks out from every corner as you flop back down, lips bloated and pouty, slapping around the comforter and pointing to no one. “I hate you.” Jeongguk’s eyebrow raises, pausing in the middle of his kitchen to decipher what on earth you are talking about.

Clearly, you’re having a nightmare. Jeongguk takes quiet steps back to his spot on the floor in order to avoid that one squeaky 

“You cheated on me with Somin, didn’t you? You bastard. You told me you loved me,” whining, your body twists around. “Why else would I let you fuck me?” 

Jeongguk reels his brain back to stop the curious sympathy right there. He doesn’t want to prod further into this bad dream involving a fight with an ex of some sort. It’s none of his business and clearly this wasn’t meant for him to hear. All he does care about is if you’re going to vomit or not. 

He calls your name. “Are you okay?” Jeongguk whispers. 

You don’t respond. Instead, your face twists in discomfort as you continue to mumble into his mattress and writhe around. 

Jeongguk grows increasingly worried. He doesn’t want you to choke or anything of the sort while he’s deep in REM. Slowly, he gets down on his knees to get a closer look at you tossing and turning.  

“It hurts so much.” 

Jeongguk gently places a hand on your arm, saying your name softly so you don’t wake up. “Hey, you okay? Do you want water?” You twist away from his touch at first. “It’s me, it’s me, it’s Jeongguk,” reminding you as your lids barely part. He thinks you register him, that maybe you’re somewhat awake right now as you begin to curl forward. 

But then your hands clasp Jeongguk’s arms tightly, restricting his every move. 

“You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?” Your voice slurs, the tip of your nose meeting the fabric of his shirt, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave indents. 

Nothing but confusion clouds Jeongguk’s brain. What are you talking about? 

“You told me you loved me. What? Don’t you want me anymore?”  

Tightening around him, you bury your face into his neck again. Your arms begin to raise, wrap around his shoulders to bring your body closer to his rigid frame. Jeongguk feels wetness from your eyes begin to drip onto his skin, dampening his shirt.

“Just do it then. Just leave me. No one ever sticks around anyways. Guys always leave me the moment something new comes along. Every single one,” you enunciate, vibrating into him, crying softly. “You don’t even care about how much you hurt me. No one cares.” 

Jeongguk is paralyzed under your hold as your tears start to roll down. Your sobs are loud and erratic and painful, as if all of this hurt has building until you eventually couldn’t hold onto it anymore. That it took alcohol and a long night to wedge it out of you. 

It’s contradictory; holding him tight and telling him to leave you.

But he doesn’t push you away and he doesn't let go. Jeongguk lets you grip onto him for safety because he’s terrified that removing his touch could break you even further. 

 He doesn’t know what is happening in your dream to make you behave like this, he doesn’t know what made the previous glee that used to make your eyes bright fade away after all of those years passed. He wants to ask but he doesn't know how. 

All Jeongguk does know is that you were different. Not in a good or bad way but you were simply different.  The happy go lucky little girl grew into a hardened adult. When he looked into your eyes tonight, he saw traces of all of this hurt woven alongside other emotions. Like a heavy blanket that only pushes you further and further deeper into a more melancholic way of being. 

And as he helps you back into bed once your tears stop falling, rubs some cooling Vicks rub on your forehead and pulls the cover close, his brain turns into an echo chamber until he tires himself to sleep. 

No one ever sticks around anyways. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A week has passed and while you thought you could gain control of your physics plight, it seems like the universe has some different plans. 

The tutor that you selected, a second year girl who is majoring in electrical engineering, has been a total flake. You exchanged numbers with her on Thursday during Week 1 and she fed you all of these sweet words about wanting to become friends and teaching in a friendly, kind way which immediately softened you. The last thing you wanted was for some dickhead to call you stupid because you didn’t understand the concept the first time. 

She said she’d meet you at the library that Saturday at 3pm to come up with a schedule and she never showed. So you rescheduled to Sunday, then Monday, then Tuesday and now you just feel like an idiot. 

There’s always some excuse. Either she slept in or she’s not feeling well or her roommate needs her but you’re losing your damn mind right now. 

“You’re not paying her, right?” Jeongyeon asks, rummaging through Nayeon’s bag for something. “Maybe she’s a scammer?” 

You give her a dull look. “She doesn’t get paid by me. I think the university does or she’s earning credits, I don’t know. But I’m fucked for the big quiz we have next week.” 

It’s only Week 2 but the material is daunting and frankly put, you’ll shit your pants the day of the actual quiz and whatever date the final is. This is all so unfamiliar to you and, unlike other subjects, you struggle to find that area where the content becomes interesting. All you feel is terror. 

Nayeon, ever the optimist, tries to lift your spirit. 

“Girl, that shit is next week. Do yourself a favor, find a new tutor, study a whole bunch and then ace the quiz. There’s no point in waiting for this random girl to start caring. It’s your grade after all.” 

“Yeah but I just don’t want someone that’s going to be an asshole when I get things wrong.” 

People love to dumb you down, especially those in your own department. Obviously your promiscuity directly correlates to your intelligence. Girls can only be slutty or smart, right? There exists no gray area. But you know yourself. Even if science and math aren’t your thing, you’re a smart person. You got into a top performing university without any fancy prep classes or coaches and you are consistently pulling good grades each semester. That speaks more about you and your capabilities than anything else. 

“I’ve heard this one guy is pretty good. He’s a teacher’s assistant pursuing his masters degree here.” Nayeon takes her phone out to look him up. “My friend was in his Chemistry group sessions and he was apparently super helpful and kind. I think he does physics too. Let me ask her.” 

You perk up. It would be perfect if you could land a tutoring session with this TA instead of your missing student tutor. Even if it’s a group setting

“Let me know what your friend says.” You look away from the two in front of you for a split second as your attention was cut by your phone vibrating on the table. Flipping it over you see a text from your flakey tutor herself. 

Reading it over, you roll your eyes heavily. Another lame excuse about her skipping out on your tutoring session because she scheduled a meeting with her professor at the exact same time by accident. You ignore it and plan to respond with a passive aggressive rejection to end all of this bullshit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jeongyeon and Nayeon try to discreetly take their edibles before digging into the food you all ordered. 

Steaming plates of rice, kimchi, stir-fry and meats along with a few fried foods makes your stomach grumble. You flip your phone back over and grab your chopsticks, changing the subject quickly. 

“What are you guys doing after this?” You ask. The edibles are going to last a while and considering a weed high has different stages, there’s no way these two are going to be eating the entire time. Munchies aren’t that strong. 

Jeongyeon wiggles her eyebrows suggestively to her girlfriend, cheeks full like a chipmunk, and Nayeon turns beet red. Enough context for you to figure it out, breaking into a fit of giggles. 

“Ohhh, I see.” 

Good for them. If only you were getting laid too. Lately, your vibrator has been your best friend late at night when your mind wanders. 

With thirteen settings, it’s safe to say you won’t be getting bored for a while. 

However, you’ve never done it while being high. You’d want to do it with someone you’re comfortable with, maybe a consistent trustworthy hookup and only if consent is 100% enthusiastic, but you can only imagine how heightened the senses feel. 

Getting lost in thought, you cross one of your legs over the other, thinking about the haziness parting as you ride them slow but deep. Your hands will grip their shoulders, nails digging into the tight flesh as the drag of their length is delicious inside of you. Moaning out loud at how full you feel, watching the sharp bone of his jaw unhinge with pleasure, thick silver earrings brushing your skin, dark hair between your fingers as you increase the pace and drive the two of  you to the tipping point. 

It sounds… so satisfying. 

Fuck, okay, you need to get some control over yourself. It must be the week before your period or something because your mind has been cooking up these scenarios that demand attention. 

And most of the time it involves some familiar looking yet faceless character giving you the best dick you’ve ever gotten. It’s really messing with you. 

How the fuck are you going to be Miss Celibacy if your ass can’t go a week without sex? 

You stab your chopsticks into a large chunk of tofu and stare at the red sauce over the surface before shoving it into your mouth in hopes of distracting you when an angry recognizable voice flutters past your table. 

“..and this bitch has the nerve to look me dead in the eye and go, ‘well, you just lost yourself a customer,’ as if any of us give a shit. Like ma’am I get paid minimum wage to make watery coffee and reheat cardboard sandwiches regardless of your purchase, please leave me alone and die.” 

Turning your head, you see tufts of blonde and shiny boots combined with the soft smell of peaches: Jimin. 

And right next to him is none other than Jeon Jeongguk who is chuckling at Jimin’s whiny Karen tone to describe his awful customer. His cheeks creasing, eyes getting shinier and cute. 

You can feel your body thrum with excitement. 

“Hey guys!” Nayeon waves, setting down her utensils. They turn to look at her, then Jeongyeon and then at you, bowing while greeting. Your shoulders cave in when you feel Jeongguk’s stare on your face. “Do you wanna eat lunch with us?”

“Hell yeah. Is the menu today good?” Jimin asks.  

Jeongyeon, with a mouth full of food, nods excitedly which is perfect. Jeongguk and Jimin laugh, motioning to the lunch line quickly so you save the table and go back to eating your lunches. Your brain demands another curious glance at Jeongguk’s retreating figure. 

What? He looks really fucking sexy from the back. 

Ever since the first day of school,  you agreed to ride the subway back with Jeongguk on the days you end class at the same time and you've come to the conclusion that he is quite literally the hottest guy on the entire planet. Hotter than any other guy you’ve wasted your time with. 

He has the most boyish features but his body is perfectly crafted. Wide shoulders, defined thighs and arms, a super sculpted back, but not overly burly where he looks fake. Like an exquisite marble statue from the Hellenistic period. 

Yes, yes, you know it’s sort of weird considering the fact that you’ve  watched grow up from a cute kid to an emo pre-teen and now jumping to the absolute meal he is now but it’s just some simple attraction. 

One that rears its ugly head whenever Jeongguk laughs or smiles or pushes his hair out of his face or tongues his cheek or does literally anything. 

There are a million reasons why this could’ve happened. From all the time spent together from the subway rides to morning coffee and dinner one night (with all of your friends but it still counts) or you’re thinking this silly little attraction might be a combination of a lack of dick, PMS and pure loneliness. Either way, it isn’t anything major. 

Finding a way to ignore it is the next step.

Nayeon nudges you. “Remind me again, how exactly are you two childhood friends?” Her cheeks puffed with food.  

“Oh, I lived in Busan until high school and he was my neighbor. I would always hang out with him and his two sisters.” You explain, taking another bite of soft sticky rice. 

“Older sisters?”

You shake your head. “One older and one younger.” Wondering why this is relevant. 

But then, Nayeon and Jeongyeon make eye contact, eyebrows raising like they do when they know something you don’t. Meanwhile, you’re just sitting there like an idiot, waiting for context with your chopsticks held halfway up to your mouth. 

“Green flag. Bright green fucking flag.” Jeongyeon whistles. 

“Huh?”  Your chopsticks barely prod your lip without your mouth opening. Did the edibles pull out some secret stoner knowledge that you aren’t aware of? 

Jeongyeon decides to explain it to you. “According to the girlies on tiktok, men with older sisters are usually green flags. Something about learning gentleness and patience and respecting women from an early age or whatever. I don’t get you heteros so it went past my head.” 

You’re puzzled at first. These men all have mothers, they came from a woman who nursed them and cared for them until now, why is having an older sister so different?

But then it hits you. 

The way Jeongguk treats you is so different from the way most guys treat you. There’s no domineering masculinity coming from him in heavy waves trying to overpower you. It’s softer. He’s so approachable and gentle. He never touches you unless you’re okay with it, he’s always polite and kind and sweet. He never makes you feel stupid or inadequate, doesn’t talk over you, nothing of the sort. 

And while it’s the barest of minimum, Jeongguk makes you feel safe. 

Even Jeongyeon and Nayeon, who are often not comfortable around straight men, found him to be a delight. That has to mean something. 

“I…I never thought about it,” your voice goes a little husky. Tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face as your cheeks get a little warm. “He’s just a good guy, you know.  Jihyo, his sister, always kept him in check. I guess, it’s a good thing.” 

Kids lead by example. Growing up in an environment where the adults around you were treating women poorly or pushing people around will appear in relationships. But Jeongguk was the opposite. 

“It is. Think about it,” Nayeon leans in, “after all of those duds you’ve been with, he’s just what you’re looking for.” 

The way your heartbeat accelerates is not a good sign. 

Your chin pulls back, like you’re leaning away from the possibility. “What? I’m not gonna date him, Nayeon,” you groan under your breath. 

“Why not?” She whines, slamming her fists onto the table, then laughing slightly at the indents left on his skin. 

“Because he has no interest in dating right now,” you grumble, remembering his words from his birthday. 

Even if you did try to pursue it, there’s a high chance Jeongguk might only see you as his older sister’s friend. Which is how it should be! It’s best that you let this silly little crush die like a lonely star and maintain your promise of making this year all about you. Your bullet vibrator is going to have to help you whenever you get the urge but besides that, no sex, no dates, no boys, nothing of the sort. 

“Did he tell you that?” Jeongyeon asks, eyes glazing over. The weed must be hitting pretty hard. You’re surprised they can keep up with this conversation. 

Then again, they’re probably used to it. 

You nod. “At the club.” Snorting, your eyes briefly flick to the other side of the cafeteria where a certain someone sits. “Juri offered him her number and he said he wasn’t going to go out with her.”

That seems to wake the brunette up. “Fuck, really? I wish I saw that,” she pouts, leaning on the blonde curled up next to her. Cute. 

“Well, he didn’t say no since you two started fucking hazing him the moment you saw him,” you scold. “But he told me he was going to reject her if/when he saw her in person.” 

“Hey! You were the one who directed us to shoo away any man that came up to you that night.” Nayeon defends. “We were just listening to instructions when we came over to stop you two.” 

Jeongyeon joins in. “Yeah, and he looked like your usual type so we assumed we should pull you away. How were we supposed to know the super hot guy you were talking to was a friend?” 

You open your mouth to quip back when you feel a presence behind you, casting a shadow on your back. The lingering smell of cologne and food dance in the air. A wave of despair crashes inside of your stomach and you really wish a black hole would open up right under to sweep you away from this hellscape. 

“What are you guys talking about?” 

Taehyung Jimin split to sit on the bench between Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s bench and yours. It's a square shaped table with four benches on each side, so enough space for two people per bench. The two couples share a bench while you and Jeongguk get your own, although he still sits closer to you on his own bench. 

“U-uh–” Jeongyeon stutters, looking at you with wide eyes for help. 

“Oh, just some guy,” you fake a laugh, flicking some hair out of your face and turning to food so you can shovel it in your face like a starved person. 

Taehyung laughs a little. “Just some guy? Jeongyeon was saying that he’s super hot and your type.” He’s being cheeky, like he always is, but this time, you can’t engage in a back and forth with him. 

Because the hot sweet guy you were talking about is sitting right next to you. 

Your brain urges you to take a peek. Jeongguk is dressed like he usually is; a pair of baggy cargo pants and a light gray sweatshirt, and he always looks attractive. The fall wind is allowing you to smell the scent of his flowery shampoo in combination with his usual perfume and it’s such an addictive scent that you never want to forget. 

But you can’t think about that. You should be thinking of a lie. 

“I’ve always wondered if you had a boyfriend,” Jimin asks, resting his chin on his palm. A sly smirk forms on his lips, just as cheeky as his own boyfriend’s. “I asked Jeongguk and he said he didn’t know.” 

Fuck. You look at him now, hair swishing with your movements. The boy is eating without a care and shrugs in response. “You never mentioned one.” 

Yeah, because there isn’t one. You’ve never had a boyfriend in your life. 

Sweat beads your palms. There has to be some guy that you can just drop in here for the sake of the conversation. Some random guy out in this cafeteria that is insignificant enough to never cross paths with you again so you can nip this conversation right in the bud. 

You scan the place. There are a few guys you’ve already hooked up with so that’s a no. Some groups of first-years and that’s also a no (you’re not trying to catch a case here). 

For fucks’ sake, are the only hot guys at this school Jimin, Taehyung and Jeongguk? 

“Uh–”

Nayeon swoops in like a guardian angel. “We were talking about the Physics and Chem tutor. I don’t know if you guys have had him but, Kim Namjoon?” 

Right, the tutor Nayeon’s friend went to. The really nice one. 

She sends you a hidden wink from her end of the table and you respond with a quick finger heart. Bless her soul. 

“Joon? Oh, he is so hot.” Jimin, to your surprise, bounces at the chance to thirst over this supposed sexy tutor that you’ve never seen before. His eyes roll back at the sheer thought of him, leaning closer to gossip.  “He was our tutors for Physics 2 last semester and wow.” He shakes his head, marveled at such a man. “He could top me and then never speak to me again and I’d be okay with that.”

Now you’re curious about this Kim Namjoon. Just how hot is he? 

Taehyung jumps in. “I agree, however, “he holds a single finger up, “I would also like to add Kim Seokjin, the bio tutor.” His eyes roll back dramatically. “Dream threesome. Foursome if you want babe,” he nudges the blonde who blushes in agreement.  

Then the entire table breaks out into giggles and with a little coaxing, Nayeon and Jeongyeon reveal their ideal threesomes which you already know the answers to (Han Sohee and Irene from Red Velvet) since they share the same girl crushes. Then you answer begrudgingly which are the two male leads from Business Proposal because, obviously. However, the person next to you is rather quiet. You lightly nudge his side with your elbow to check in with him. 

“You okay?” You’re asking just in case Jeongguk isn’t comfortable with sex talk. 

But he nods. “Sorry, I’m still listening. Just really hungry. All I had for breakfast was a protein shake.” Jeongguk inhales the glazed stir-fry chicken on his plate, a dot of sauce landing on the corner of his lip and, oh my, do you want to wipe it off for him because he is so cute with his bready baby cheeks all puffed with food.

“Come on,” you pretend to scold. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Jeongguk’s mom would weep if she heard about him skipping. 

He waves it off but you can see his ears get a little red. “Yeah, yeah, I know but I slept through my alarms so I was in a rush this morning. Almost pulled a Taehyung and crashed into the wall while trying to run out.” 

You laugh at the image. Taehyung can be a bit of a klutz. At the club on Jeongguk’s birthday, he almost crashed into an entire table because he was dizzy from doing tiktok dances all night. Your head throws back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, and when you open them again, Jeongguk’s eyes are on you. 

They feel explorative, searching every inch of your face like he doesn’t want to forget a single inch, lips quirked up in a half smile but it’s Jeongguk’s eyes that really take you aback. His eyes have never looked at you like that before. 

As if something is swimming deep in those pools of glimmery chocolate brown; something warm and sweet in there. 

“Sorry,” he blushes, turning his eyes away from your face and back onto his food. Your heart stops for a moment, looking down at his pillowy soft lips. They’re right there, moisturized and pink. All you really have to do is lean in. 

And with the way Jeongguk looks at you, you really fucking want to. 

He’s so beautiful. So pretty and sweet and kind and unlike any other guy you’ve ever wanted. The urge to go for him is almost primal that you can barely hold yourself back. 

Your friends are like little angels in your head, goading you on to just do it. Just kiss him and take him and then drop it. Satiate that part of you that needs sex, that needs to fucked just right, and then move on. It would be different than usual because Jeongguk is different from the previous men so you wouldn’t get hurt. 

Although… 

He’s Jihyo’s little brother, the boy who needed to hold your hand when crossing the street, the kid always on his skateboard or his nose buried in a manga. Would it tarnish everything that you find familiar to just go for it? Would years of a perfectly healthy happy friendship go right down the drain? 

But Jeongguk is an adult, only one year younger than you. There isn’t anything wrong. 

Ideally, you could just lean in and–

“Jeongguk, what was the name of the blue penguin in the Backyardigans? I really need to know like now,” Taehyung urges, breaking your train of thought immediately. 

You fly back as if the contact singes you, curling into yourself and placing a single hand on the surface of the table to catch your breath. You completely forgot about the whole conversation going on around you when you stared into Jeongguk’s pretty deep eyes. 

It’s clear as day to you. With the man he’s become, it’s obvious that you are definitely into Jeon Jeongguk. 

“Huh?” He rasps, slightly out of it too. “Oh-uh, Pablo. He’s the one that sings International Super Spy.” 

“Pablo! I knew it.” Taehyung snaps his fingers loudly. “How do you still remember that?”

Jeongguk awkwardly forces out a laugh. “We watched a few episodes together this summer, remember?” 

“Right. Pretty sure I was blazed out of my mind, though.” 

Jimin nudges him. “Babe, when are you not blazed out of your mind?”

“When I’m with you, baby boy,” he coos.  

The boy next to you groans out loud. “Ugh, you two are so nasty.” His voice is muffled by food but he still gets his point across. You bite back a giggle at the disgust on his face. 

“Jeongguk, you can’t be mean to us. It’s homophobic.” Jimin points a chopstick in his direction but Jeongguk simply shrugs and continues eating without a care. 

Jeongyeon pipes up. “I agree. That applies to you too, Queen of the Straights.” 

The direct hit has pulled you out of your internal panic, reminding you to contribute to the conversation like friends usually do. Your eyes dull a little. “Yes ma’am.”  Faking a soldier’s salute to make everyone laugh. 

You’re glad that everyone else seems oblivious to what just happened because you know that had the two of you been alone, the situation would be entirely different. 

And you don’t know if that outcome would be any better than this one. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

On Friday, classes get canceled. 

Thankfully, it’s nothing bad. All of the buildings are getting fumigated to keep out any infestations that might’ve crawled in over the summer since someone thought they saw a cockroach in the Arts building so all the professors decide to post the lecture information online or have virtual class if necessary. 

You had no complaints with this change. Attend class in your pajamas, in your bed, and have the option to fall asleep without getting caught? Sounds perfect. 

Although, no in person class means you don’t get to speak to your Physics professor to complain about your flakey tutor and find a new one which you were banking on completing before you had your huge quiz next week. So, once your final lecture ends, you begin to worry about how the hell you’re going to resolve that problem. 

Sure, you could easily self-review with the resources online but you’ve always learned more theoretical concepts with someone explaining it to you in person so you could ask questions immediately. 

You shut your laptop off and place it on top of the long coffee table you use as a desk. An open notebook with notes sits on your right, pen clicked off, highlighters placed neatly in your pencil case, and the silence of your studio apartment almost starts ringing in your ears. 

Who do you know that can tutor you for physics? 

Nayeon sent you the email address for the Namjoon person whom everyone is vouching for. You asked this morning  if he had any space in his tutoring session but he responded saying that he does but he isn’t having a session today and he’s happy to answer any questions over email or through a video call individually. 

You genuinely consider that option until you look up at the decor in your room that Namjoon has no chance of missing during the video call. 

Now, you wouldn’t call yourself a strange person, if anything you are a well-adjusted member of society,  but the pieces chosen to hang up in your studio apartment would raise some eyebrows. From the poster of Bibble from Barbie saying Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss to the concerning amount of Sanrio plushies you’ve collected over the years to all of the cat beds and toys thrown around the place and the impressive array of diffusers in every corner, your apartment is an amalgamation of you. 

And you don’t know if this Namjoon guy is going to take one look at the place and peg you down as a fucking weirdo or not. You want to make a good impression on him. 

So, you wrack your brain for a different option to help you just before your quiz next week. 

Someone. Anyone. 

Your worst bet is to walk over to the nearest cram school and ask someone there but those are all high school students and you’d die of embarrassment. 

Then you remember, Jeongguk took Physics last semester. Maybe he can help. 

Quickly, you pat around your duvet for your phone. It’s lying screen down a few inches away from Snowball’s sleeping body. Carefully, you grab the device, scroll through your contacts and call him with fiery hope coursing through you thickly.

“Hello?” His voice drips from the speakers like flowing water and you want to drown in it. 

“Hey, are you done with online classes?” You ask, on your back and knees to your chest in a very suggestive position. 

“Uh almost,” Jeongguk trails off. “Why? What’s up?”

You hold back a goofy smile at his distracted tone. “You know how you said you took physics last semester?” He hums in response. “Do you think you could explain a few concepts to me? I have this big ass quiz soon and I don’t wanna bomb it.” 

You wait. The pessimist in you expects a rejection, a flat out ‘I’d rather die than waste my time explaining physics concepts to a 21-year-old,’ but the optimist is waiting with a bouquet of roses on the other side. 

This is Jeongguk we’re talking about. Sweet, sweet, lovely Jeongguk. Not that dickhead that sits in the back of lecture and watches hentai on his phone. 

“Oh. I’m not the best teacher.”

Both the optimist and pessimist in your head are waiting on the balls of their feet. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting but it's an answer you aren’t hurt by! 

“That’s okay! I just need someone to go over it with me. As long as you aren’t mean, I won’t complain.” You want to appeal to Jeongguk in a way that’ll get the guy to bend a little and what other way to a man’s heart than food? “I’ll repay you with dinner,” you sing-song.  

There’s a brief pause, like he’s considering the option while noises mumble in the background. “What’s the menu?” Jeongguk asks. 

God, he’s so cute. Your cheeks are raised so high, they might as well curl into your eyes. 

“I live near a great fried chicken place.” Works out perfectly because you’ve been craving something fried for a while now. Must be your period. 

Jeongguk barely waits a second. “Sold. Text me the time and your address.”

You cut the call after bidding each other goodbye. A giddy squeal almost bubbles out of your lips until you realize that you have about two hours until Jeongguk is in your apartment for the first time ever. 

Alone. No friends. No family. 

Just you and this super hot guy. 

No interruptions. Complete privacy. 

You launch out of bed so fast that you wake up Snowball from her slumber. Quickly, you shower and you take your time to scrub your body with lilac body wash and shave. Usually Friday is your pamper day so this isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Then you wash your greasy hair to rid yourself of the conditioning hair mask you slathered on this morning. After your shower, you walk around your studio with your fluffy bathrobe and microfiber towel on to find the perfect outfit. 

It has to be comfortable but cute. Even though Jeongguk is just tutoring you and there is a high chance that this meeting will only be platonic, you still want to look your best. 

Rummaging through your dresser drawers and closet, your eyes immediately fall to your collection of baby-doll lingerie sets in various colors. An expensive purchase, but you’ve always enjoyed dressing up every now and then. Your fingers dance across the itchy lace, thinking about which one Jeongguk would like? Lilac? Baby pink? Maybe the nude one with the intricate designs on the cups? Or how about the blood red and black one that looks like it came straight out of a BDSM film? 

Nah, that’s too much. You go for yoga pants, a plain t-shirt and a quarter-zip with your university’s logo on it. Then selecting a lacy pair of underwear and no bra. You hate wearing one at home anyways. 

The clothes lay spread out on your bed as you begin your post shower process of lotion, deodorant, a soft scented body spray and then your clothes. Then, you dry your hair and then begin cleaning up the little clutter you have over the place. You’re a neat person, which others find shocking, so there isn’t much to do. You dry some dishes on the rack, reset your bedsheets, light up a candle, empty the litter box, and eat a mediocre salad as you wait for the clock to strike 5pm. 

Time moves at a microscopic pace, probably because you’re staring at the moving hands in hopes that you’ll blink at the pretty boy will be standing at your doorstep. You should focus on something else in the meantime. So you take out your physics notebook and begin reviewing. 

Next week’s quiz will be on a little under ½  of the energy chapter covered so far. You’ve been paying attention, taking diligent notes, and doing pretty good on the homework but the topics still freak you out.  

It’s a STEM thing. You haven’t taken one since your first year so you’re rusty and the material seems extra intimidating. Unlike Jeongguk, Jimin and Taehyung, you don’t study this on a daily basis. 

But there’s nothing you won’t be able to conquer without working. 

About halfway through your revision is when the buzz of your home intercom rings, shocking you out of your thoughts. Slowly, you get up, dusting the invisible particles off your clothes and going over to the machine to let Jeongguk in. There’s a short waiting game, lasting about two minutes, as he probably comes up from the lobby and reaches your door before knocking. 

You’re putting a kettle of water to boil as the sound resonates and you rush over to open the door with a bright smile on your lips. 

“Hey,” you breathe out, taking in the sights before you. 

As always, Jeongguk looks perfect in a gray long-sleeve t-shirt and black sweats. Like the comfy soft boyfriend of your dreams. His hair is a little damp at the ends but it waves a little past his eyebrow as it grows and his backpack straps pull his shirt wide to show off his broad shoulders. 

Fucking hell, you think. You want to eat him up and ruin him. 

Swallowing shakily, you step aside as he grins. “Hi.” Jeongguk’s voice is low, like usual, but a little buttery and less hoarse. Almost sexy. 

Basically, it’s doing things to you. 

Carefully, you lead him inside where Jeongguk takes his shoes off and stares at the place with those big eyes of his. You wonder what goes through that pretty head of his as he stares at the various stuffed animals and the wall art. But, instead, he lands on the Kirby shaped cat-bed at the base of your bed holding Snowball’s half-asleep body. 

“You have a cat?” He asks. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” You walk in front of the thing, squatting down in front of the entrance to hold a hand out for the ball of fluff to sniff. Snowball headbutts you immediately. “You didn’t inherit your dad’s allergy, did you?” 

That would crush you. As much as you like dogs, you’re a cat person at heart or a Snowball person at heart. 

Jeongguk shakes his head no. Then he comes to the same spot you are and gets on his knees on the opposite side of you, watching with curious doe eyes. Slowly, Jeongguk extends his hand out, thinking Snowball needs time to get used to him like some cats do, but no. She’s friendly and extroverted, getting out of the bed to welcome Jeongguk with an excited soft-tone trill.

It’s heartwarming watching her melt into his touch, purring and climbing into Jeongguk’s lap the more he pets her on all of her favorite spots. 

“You’ve been accepted,” you muse, crossing your arms over your stomach in hopes that by pushing on it, that buttery, gooey, sugary feeling will go away. 

“Yay,” Jeongguk cheers cutely. “What’s her name?” 

“Snowball.” 

“Snowball!” He coos. “You are the cutest ever!” Jeongguk leans down to tell her, slight aegyo in his tone. The rounded tip of his nose brushes the top of her small head

No, you are, is what zings through your mind but don’t tell Snowball you thought that.  

Since your knees start screaming at you to get up, you leave Jeongguk and Snowball to go check on the kettle which is at its very end of boiling the water. You get up on your tiptoes to pull out two white mugs and before grabbing your go-to peach green tea packets, you ask Jeongguk. 

“Tea or coffee?” 

Jeongguk looks up from Snowball curled on his lap, the body of a bright grin on his lips. “Coffee please.” When you nod, he goes back to petting the white feline without another care. 

His adorable politeness removes any nerves you had or any prior sheepishness from the way your studio apartment looks. Small and decorated with all of your interests. The only people that have ever been here are your mother, Jeongyeon and Nayeon. Hookups were always at their place or a hotel so it’s a little odd to see Jeongguk seated on your floor. 

But at the same time, it’s Jeongguk on your floor so you aren’t that worried. 

Pouring the mugs with steaming hot water, you grab a packet of instant coffee while your tea bag steeps and you make Jeongguk his coffee. In the meantime, he’s seated by your coffee table/desk, shrugging his backpack off while Snowball sits beside Jeongguk diligently. Like she’s protecting him from whatever she thinks is going to attack him. 

“I like your place,” Jeongguk says, shocking you for a moment. “It’s very,” he trails off. “Very you.” 

You give him a dulled look over your shoulder. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know, it’s got all of your favorite things.” His chin gestures to the Sanrio stuffed animals, the various figurines from all of your favorite animes, the vintage posters, the bunny paraphernalia, all of your favorite things, like Jeongguk said. 

You turn, pressing the small of your back to the cold counter behind you. “Your place is nice too,” you add for the sake of returning the compliment, although it is true. 

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Yeah but, my landlord is a gaping asshole and hates the idea of posters and paintings since he’s scared it’ll fuck up the wall. It’s nice but it feels dead,” he gives your apartment one more look, “but yours has some personality, you know? I’m kinda jealous.” 

His smile is genuine, sweet and kind. You find yourself melting from the sheer sight of it but you hold yourself back. Don’t want to look too whipped.  

Exhaling with some laughter, you start bringing the mugs over along with some biscuits since it’s tea time. “The first apartment we had when we moved here was like that. The landlord didn’t even let my mom change the curtains even though the ones that came with the place had stains all over it.” Jeongguk grimaces at the thought. “But Mrs. Jeong from our Busan apartment was so nice.” 

What a sweet woman. She would often come down whenever she heard one of them had a cold or if there was a birthday and she was never harsh when your mother’s checks bounced or if she needed an extra day because she hadn’t gotten paid yet. She was the reason you thought all landlords had some semblance of empathy but no. 

“We lived there for about fifteen years. It sucked having to leave.” 

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you moved out!” You gasp, shifting yourself to face him completely. “Is your current place closer to the bakery?”

“No, it’s actually farther but it’s closer to the center of Busan so public transport is good. Plus, noona got a car so it’s not too bad.” 

You sigh. Fuck, you miss Busan so much. Even hearing the slight satoori in Jeongguk’s voice does wonders for your nostalgia as yours only peeks out when you’re angry thanks to teasing from all of the Seoul elitists. 

The beach, the food, the fresh air, the streets, you miss all of it. Such a simple time. You’ve always dreamed of settling there once you’ve figured your life out. It was your end goal. 

“I wanna hear more but let’s get physics out of the way first,” you tap your notebook twice and Jeongguk moves to his backpack to take some items out to start the tutoring session. 

And, to no one’s shock, Jeongguk is actually a really great tutor. 

He’s patient with you and doesn’t mind giving you constant encouragement when you get a bit insecure halfway through a word problem. On concepts you’re unsure about, Jeongguk explains them in the simplest way possible without getting haughty. No outbursts if you make the same mistake two times in a row, he never once calls you stupid or says you’re wasting his time. Jeongguk gently coaches you until you try to solve some problems on your own from the textbook without his help and he checks them afterwards, telling you what you did right and wrong.   

Quite literally, this is all that you wanted. 

Someone to answer your questions, explain a few concepts, and walk you through a couple of examples without questioning your smarts as a whole. 

It’s nice. You feel safe and even better, you feel actually prepared for the quiz which is the opposite of how you felt this morning. You aren’t even worried about it at all. 

After clearing through the sample quiz and practice problems easily in a matter of about 2 ½ hours, you two are all done tutoring. Which means freedom for the rest of the night. 

Quickly, you connect your laptop to the small TV mounted on the wall and put on Love Island since neither of you have watched it. Jeongguk is rather curious about it since Jimin and Taehyung won’t stop talking about it,  so you decide to jump into the newest season with him while leaning against your bed and pulling up the menu for the fried chicken place.

“I’m getting honey garlic,” you tell him when you hand him your phone.  

“Then, I’ll do the spicy cheese one.” He leans closer instead of taking the device and you really wish he didn’t because your body reacts to the proximity with goosebumps erupting all over you like you’re a teenager again. 

Your eyes flick up to his side profile, which is literally perfect. His jaw is strong, well cut, defined and his skin is the color of fresh milk tea. You can see little imperfections on his skin like old acne scars, the slightly chapped surface of his lips, and all of his shiny earrings. You love the way he looks and how Jeongguk has grown into his features.  The urge to trace his jawline with your tongue is insane, almost caustic inside of you. It’s impossible to push down. You sort of dressed up for this tutoring date, throwing on a pair of your favorite panties, lathering yourself in the softest lotion; you took all of the right steps and you’re hungry for a certain ending even though there’s a high chance it won’t happen at all. The horny side of you is begging for you to shoot your shot. 

But you stop. Not yet. Not right now. 

While Jeongguk picks out drinks, appetizers and the dessert he wants,  you rush to the bathroom for a second. In the mirror, you take notice of your reddened cheeks and parted lips and the messy wisps of hair sticking out. You quickly tie it back into a loose braid and then splash some water on your face. 

Reel it back, bitch.  

While in the bathroom, you call out. “Hey Jeongguk? Could you get my wallet? It’s on top of my dresser, the one next to my closet.” Might as well pay now so you can get the chicken faster. 

“Okay!” He responds. 

The noise your stomach makes is loud and painful. The salad you had did nothing to satiate your cravings so the thought of chicken, perfectly fried to a crisp and covered in garlicky sweet sauce has you practically salivating. Especially since you’ve been eating so healthily as of late. It’s nice to treat yourself to some fast food.

Afterwards, you trudge back on over to the coffee table and plop down silently while Jeongguk puts in your card information. Meanwhile, you remember to feed Snowball for dinner and give her some much needed attention by bringing her to sit with the two of you so she can be pet and loved. 

Jeongguk’s warmth emanates from his shoulder that is inches away from you while the Love Island intro song plays at the start of every new season. Half-heartedly, you watch the corny antics as each contestant introduces themselves with the main host speaking over and you think about how much internal anguish you’re feeling at the moment. 

An object prods into your forearm. You look down to see the rounded edge of your credit card. “I paid,” Jeongguk tells you. You don’t respond verbally, taking the plastic and shoving it into the slot of your card wallet. 

“Thanks,” you mumble. You bring your knees up to your chest and rest your chin on top of them, hoping to get into the various shirtless tattooed guys on your television screen. It’s an easy task. Shows like Love Island don’t ask too much of you but you can get into it enough where other thoughts begin to fade. 

You check your phone to see that the chicken should be delivered in about 10 minutes. Then you can have food and TV to reward you for all of your hard work. 

The beginning is awkward as each person picks their couple purely based on looks and their name. You cringe when a guy comes in and no one steps up to match with him so he has to randomly choose a girl who was either too shy to step up to say she thinks he’s cute or not at all interested in him. It sounds like such an awkward place to be in and you’d hate to be on either side of the situation. 

Jeongguk, on the other hand, isn’t a reality TV kind of guy. So he has a million questions and comments throughout the 57 minute episode. 

“I don’t get it. They just shove 10 hot people in a house and they have to like each other?” 

“Fuck, that’s how you’re supposed to say Leicester?” 

“That one guy looks like such a fuck boy. Why would you ever get a chest tattoo of an eagle?” 

“What happens if you don’t like anyone you match with? Can you just leave?” You shrug in response. This is your first time watching this show too.  “I’d leave so fast if I was on this show. None of these people would interest me.”

“Me too,” you respond, playing with the frayed edge of an old receipt sticking out of one of the wallet pockets. “I’d get the ick so fast and then hop on the first plane back home.” 

Jeongguk’s bantering turns the simple binge into something more. You start laughing, indulging his every whim, making fun of the guys trying too hard to flirt and seem suave and it’s really fun. You manage to barely remember the way you felt when you came out of the bathroom. 

Is this how it should always be? Platonically hanging out? 

Was it a good thing that you stopped yourself before your desires took over your logic?

You don’t know. You don’t want to either. You just want to sit back and enjoy the rest of this lovely day off. 

After another few minutes of watching the show, you feel Jeongguk’s eyes on you. Wide, glittery, washing over every inch of your skin like he’s trying to commit your features to memory. You raise an eyebrow in question. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, just stares at you, and then he points to your phone screen where a notification from the delivery app shows. 

The food is here. 

Quickly, you go down, slipping some slides on your feet and shoving your hands in the pockets of your sweater. The delivery person hands you the plastic bag with steaming boxes and you thank them before trundling back upstairs. The smell that wafts to you is mouth-wateringly delicious. 

This. This is your treat after a grueling two weeks of school. 

You bring it up for you and Jeongguk to dig into. The chicken is fresh and delicious and in combination with Jeongguk’s commentary, you start to really enjoy yourself. Especially as all your sex related thoughts begin to push to the back of your brain and the night gets more fun yet relaxing. The food is good and the drinks are refreshing. 

Afterwards, you crack open a bag of  kit kats to share with him to cap off the meal with something sweet since none of the desserts at the restaurant sounded appealing to either of you. 

Love Island is addictive. Your friends were right about it. Two episodes later and the two of you are curious about who is the new islander coming and how they are going to shake things up. 

The TV is on the wall mounted across your bed and coffee table. For the sake of your backs, you move Jeongguk to the bed and take some pillows to lean against so your backs aren’t completely sore by the next morning. 

Although, you do wish your back was sore for another reason but let’s not get into that just yet. 

Since you don’t have a lot of pillows, you share your main one, meaning you’re a lot closer to Jeongguk than you originally planned. To the point where your arms are pressed against each other and your legs are brushing. It makes you nervous to be this close. His perfume is a strong elixir, heady and comforting, pushing you to lean in and bury your face into the delectable skin of his neck. Even his neck, wow. The skin is so smooth, there’s a mole right in the middle of it. You want to sink your teeth into the flesh and use your lips and tongue to paint it all sorts of beautiful colors. 

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You get nervous with Jeongguk sitting so close to you, hands itching to do something. First they play around with the single star pendant on your necklace, then at a loose thread on your comforter, and then you decide to redo your hair. 

The braid has become a straggly mess with you leaned against things so you pull your hair tie off and begin to undo your braid. At the very least, it is something for your hands to do, keep them occupied and away. 

From Jeongguk that is. You don’t want to obstruct his view or break his attention. 

Pushing off from the pillow, suddenly something happens on screen that makes your head turn abruptly  to see who said what and your hair wacks Jeongguk right in the eye. 

“Shit,” he hisses, clutching his face, curling inwards. 

You begin to panic, turning in on your knees to get closer to him. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was trying to tie my hair and then something happened on screen so I–” you stop midway, no need for an explanation. Instead, check to see if your hair scratches him in the cornea or not.

Jeongguk’s legs, that were once crossed, are now spread wide without your body taking up the space next to him on your bed. Without a second thought, you cross over the one closest to you and end up in between his two long legs. One hand on his shoulder to grab his attention. 

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly, trying to search his gaze but Jeongguk’s eyes are turned down. “Jeongguk?” 

Muffled, he speaks up. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.” Jeongguk drops his hands onto his thighs before blinking a few times and you see a telltale tear pool from his big doe eyes, dripping down the slope of his cheek. 

A huge wave of guilt crashes inside of you. 

You made Jeongguk cry. 

Not intentionally but still. He’s crying. 

“Aw,” you cup his cheeks, searching his irises for anything like you’re a licensed ophthalmologist or something, wiping the stray tear with your thumb.“I’m really sorry. Do you need eye drops or anything?” You sit down on your feet, leaning closer to see him. “I can go check in my medicine box if I have any left from Spring.”

He doesn’t respond. 

 Jeongguk freezes immediately with you between his legs. As if all of his blood stops flowing through his veins and he’s turned to stone by Medusa. He glances at every corner of your face, at the strands of hair framing it, like he’s never seen you before. His jaw unhinges and the tip of his pink tongue is just barely visible. 

You don’t even notice how close you get. So worried about the possibility of your hair scratching his cornea that you forget that your knees are brushing against his crotch. Nor do you think about how your face is near, you’re literally staring down like you’re about to kiss him despite dreaming about being in this position all day. 

The only thing echoing in your mind is: Is Jeongguk okay? 

Not another thought. 

“I–” he stops, lips parted, “I’m okay, really.” 

Jeongguk’s palm gently pushes your hands off of his cheeks and he shifts in his spot. 

He’s practically shielding himself for you. His legs are pushed up to his chest now. Jeongguk looks like an animal that’s getting scolded for spilling food everywhere and you cannot understand why on earth he’d be making a face like that. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask. Jeongguk covers his face but you can see his ears starting to turn red. 

You inch closer to him and gently wrap your fingers around his wrist. You’re so close you can smell the gentle perfume he’s sprayed on his neck and the inviting scent of his hair serum. But he’s wriggling around like a fish out of water and it’s scaring you. 

His hands move down, ripping his wrist out of your grip to cover up his crotch and you see a glimpse of the obvious bulge poking from his sweatpants. 

Oh. 

You recoil, muscles tightening as your brain moves a mile a minute. Something Jeongguk must sense from you because he starts explaining way faster than you thought he would. 

“I’m sorry! This is–I can leave if you’d like–” 

“It’s okay, Jeongguk,” you mumble. Your voice is soft. 

It’s okay. It’s more than okay. 

It’s better than okay. 

Jeongguk continues to panic, deaf to your obvious nonchalance about him popping a boner right after you almost blinded him. “I don’t–It just sort of happened-and-and I wasn’t like–thinking a-about you or doing anything–it just,” he pauses midway, sighs to catch his breath, stops nervously stuttering,  and then turns to get up which makes you a little nervous. “I’ll go to the bathroom and get rid of it–”

In a flash, your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him from moving. 

“It’s okay,” you repeat. “I’m not grossed out.” Literally, you are the complete opposite of that but barely you mull it over one last time before speaking up again. “I could fix it, if you’d like.” Just before your conscience could stop you.

This is it. This is your chance to have him. Just once, satiate that need, and then you can go back to normal. 

The universe practically handed you this opportunity on a golden platter so you should take it. Given that Jeongguk is down too. 

His eyes go adorably wide. “W-what?” Jeongguk stutters. 

“I could help you deal with it.”  You say once more. 

At least your voice is clear and sure. On the inside, you’re just a giant piece of adrenaline. 

Jeongguk relaxes some more, gulping, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob. His shoulders broaden like he’s trying to seem confident but you can tell that he’s nervous as fuck too. 

“Why would you do that?” 

Oh, you pretty thing. You have no idea, do you?

“I don’t mind,” you shrug. Feeling bold, the hand that rests on his shoulder squeezes the mass indulgently and Jeongguk feels exquisite. You want to rip all of these clothes off of his body. “You helped me with physics so,” trailing off, as if it’s the only logical solution to this problem. 

To you, it feels like it is. Trade an A on a quiz for an orgasm. 

Plus, you finally get to rid yourself of this intense sexual tension building inside of you. A combination of your hormones and your loneliness all cooked up to make a touch-starved mess at the tiniest thing. Being with Jeongguk could be just what you need to get your focus back on yourself. He’s gorgeous, inside and out, so there’s no intense guilt to bubble from letting some douchebag grow an even bigger ego by sleeping with you. 

Jeongguk is still apprehensive. “You… you know you don’t-like-owe it to me to fix this, right? Just because I got hard doesn’t mean it’s your job to do something for me.” 

You’re taken aback. 

Most guys wouldn’t have even protested. Your mouth would be on his dick and the minute they come, you’d be all alone. They’re the types to view sex in a very individualistic manner. 

A dopey smile makes its way to your lips. “I know. This isn’t a really transactional thing.” You cup his cheek with one hand this time and trace the deep scar there absentmindedly. “I actually want to do this.” 

If Jeongguk were to hear the insane things your brain produces, you wonder if he’d run for the hills or be flattered. Definitely the former. 

“Okay but um,” he avoids your eyes, looking off to the side and you sort of love Jeongguk like this. It’s so different from his nonchalant easygoing behavior.  “I’ve never,” he searches for the words, changes his mind halfway through, and finds another path. “No one has ever like-oh god this is embarrassing–”

You decide to save him. “No one’s ever given you a blowjob?” 

He nods behind his hands that rose to cover his reddening face during his reveal. God, he’s adorable. 

“Really?”

“Is that such a surprise?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re hot.” You say truthfully. His change of expression does wonders for your confidence. So much so that you decide to bite the bullet and run a hand through his hair affectionately. “How far have you gone?”

The strands are silky smooth, flowing through your fingers like water, and Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation as he mumbles out a response. 

“I kissed someone but only a few times. I got dragged to a high school party and played spin the bottle but nothing more than that.” 

This is new for you. Almost every guy you’ve ever been with is experienced or way more experienced than you. From the guy in high school who took your virginity all the way to Wooshik. And they varied from vanilla guys to those who are super into the dom/sub spiel. You’ve never been the experienced one and it feels different. 

Like you’re corrupting him, forcibly taking away something precious. Like Mrs. Robinson on the prowl for someone younger whom she can use to her advantage. 

And even though that isn’t the case with you and Jeongguk, you want this to be different than your first time. If anything, you want him to feel safe and wanted and to let him know that, at any point, if he wants to stop then it will stop. Just like there’s no obligation for you to make him feel good, there is no obligation for him to return the favor. 

“Then let’s start with that and then we can move on if you’re comfortable. Or we don’t have to do anything and we can just forget about it. Whatever you want.” 

You won’t do anything unless he wants you to. As much as you want to touch him, as much as you need sex, you’re totally fine with taking things at his pace. 

And if he rejects this entire thing and opts to fix his situation in the bathroom, that’s okay too. 

Jeongguk presses the back of his head against the wall in thought, giving you an amazing view of his jawline, until he shyly speaks. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” You want to be sure, hiding the fact that you are utterly elated on the inside.  Jeongguk just turns more red as he avoids your eyes peering into him. 

“You–we can start. I-if that’s what you want.” 

You exhale through your nose. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want to.” 

Before he can question you, you lean down and gently connect your lips with his. 

There’s a moment where it feels foreign, where your body becomes covered with goosebumps at the sheer adrenaline coursing through you and the way your brain freaks out at the change. This is happening, you’re finally doing this, but you take a second to just press and feel. Be in the moment and stop trying to control everything, then you’re fine. 

It’s easy because Jeongguk’s lips are pillowy soft. 

Starting off with a quick peck, you split for a second, nose brushing, and then you kiss Jeongguk again. This time it’s much stronger. Any lack of confidence melts when your lips move languidly against Jeongguk. He’s responsive to your every movement, feeling the inside of your mouth with his own, while his hands rest appropriately on your hips. His lip balm is rose flavored and delectable. Jeongguk is a good kisser. 

The noises fill the quiet apartment as you move closer and cup his jaw on one side while your other hand goes back to his silky soft hair to move your lips cohesively. You adjust yourself so that instead of kneeling between his legs, you’re straddling his thick muscular thighs and they feel exquisite against you, pulling a soft sigh from your lips. 

Jeongguk must feel your exhale, gaining some bravado to take the lead when he kisses you, setting the pace as his own hands begin to move from their comfortable spot on your hips. Part of you really wants to push them down to your ass to feel those big sexy hands grab a handful but you want to wait to see what he does.

He kisses you a little wet but wanton, igniting a deep burning flame inside of you. It’s bright, hot, and you can’t pull yourself away from him the more your lips collide, suckle, and slot. 

Jeongguk’s hands begin tracing up your back with a feather-light touch, and your lips part at the feeling when he unexpectedly inches his tongue into your mouth. 

Looks like he wasn’t lying when he said he’s kissed before. 

Crackles of pleasure bubble in you. Kissing can turn you on, if the guy is good at what he does, and Jeongguk is doing just that. That throbbing sensation takes over and you find yourself clenching around nothing, dreaming of having something just fill you just how you like. His tongue tangles with yours. The kiss starts to get much sloppier, something you didn’t realize you were craving until now, and you rise up on your knees while gently tugging on his hair in a flash of atypical roughness on your end. 

Your mind refuses to process that this is Jihyo’s little brother who is kissing you silly. Right now, he’s Jeongguk. 

Jeongguk with the gorgeous eyes and the gorgeous body who got hard the moment you inched closer. 

You decide to grind down on him, especially when the curve of his bulge becomes more prominent against your ass, and Jeongguk muffles a noise into your mouth. The fabric of your underwear drags across your neglected clit, pulling another sigh out of you. It’s a small jolt of pleasure and you can feel yourself dampen even more. From the action and from the way Jeongguk sounds. 

Another moan comes from Jeongguk when you grind against him again and again, whiny yet soft. It’s doing something to you. His hands squeeze your hips and then one drifts to the back of your thigh. 

Pulling away to catch your breath, you press your forehead against his. There’s a thin layer of sweat building on your skin but your arms loop comfortably around Jeongguk’s neck, tugging his body forwards. His eyes glimmer at you, with kiss-bruised lips and the beginnings of his pearly white bunny teeth peeking out from between. You resist the urge to dive down again, instead wanting to appreciate the absolute view you have right now. 

Your fingers tangle in a lock of his soft black hair. “You’re so gorgeous,” you whisper, taking in his forehead, his jawline, his perfect nose, and every single one of his moles. 

Jeongguk, who is already blushed and heavily breathing, gets even more shy at your compliment, looking away from you to avoid your teasing smile. Which just makes you want to shower him in more praise just to see how embarrassed he can get. 

“So pretty, so handsome,” your finger traces his jaw before going down to his unblemished neck where the skin looks so soft but the area is taut and beautiful. You want to see how he’d look with hickeys. “I want to mark you,” you point to the middle of the right side of his neck, “right here.” 

Jeongguk’s eyebrows raise to his hairlines. “You want to give me a hickey?” He says incredulously. You nod. 

“I want you to remember this.”

Usually, you aren’t the possessive type but you think about Juri, walking through campus and finding Jeongguk, someone that she’s expressed interest in, like this. Covered in marks you left, reeling after the pleasure you gave him. You know the chance is unlikely and if Jeongguk were to run into her, you doubt he’d tell her any bit of what you two had done but it’s the principle of it all. 

That she can be a misogynistic pick-me/not-like-the-other girl all she wants, you still pull better than she ever will. 

Maybe then, she’ll keep your name out of her damn mouth. 

Jeongguk exhales quietly, holding some weight. “Do you actually think I’ll forget this?” 

You smirk. “Dunno, but I can’t let a pretty little thing like you get away, can I? Especially with all of those other girls who love to stare.”

It happens often whenever you two would be walking from class or on public transport and people would stare at Jeongguk. Not that you’d blame them. With a face like that, Jeongguk could debut as an idol and win the hearts of millions, he could act or model even, but then you become more aware of the fact that someone even better could scoop him up at any time and you wouldn’t stand a chance against them. 

“I won’t,” he starts, shaking his head with eyes so honest and truthful that you almost collapse in his hold. “I won’t go away and I won’t forget, okay?” Jeongguk pleads with you, holding your body still with two exact hands on your hips. 

You swear your stomach feels a group of butterflies flapping about, along with unicorns and rainbows and glitter and all of that silly shit when Jeongguk says that. The hand in his hair cups his cheek, thumb tracing his cheekbone. 

“You won’t?” 

“Never,” Jeongguk presses firmly. “And,” he hesitates for a moment, “and I’m not looking at anyone else right now, either. There’s just you.” 

There’s just you. 

The sentence sounds like a confession. Like he’s being honest while you were just being horny and possessive. You feel your act drop, whatever front you were putting up, it drops, and you don’t know what to say at first. 

The truth? You aren’t thinking about anyone else either. You don’t want to. You want Jeongguk. There’s only Jeongguk right now. 

Had this been with any other person, you wouldn’t feel comfortable being honest with them. You wouldn’t trust them not to use that against you but you know Jeongguk and you trust Jeongguk more than anything. 

“I… I’m not looking at anyone either,” you manage to mumble out. Now you’re the one who is all red and shy. 

And watching Jeongguk’s expression change when you said that… priceless. 

He stares at you like you hung all of the stars in the sky, that you push the sun up in the sky every morning, like the dew droplets on the blades of grass, like it was just you. 

It’s perfect yet so much at the same time. You want to say more but you don’t know what else you could say so you meet his gaze, then dip down to his lips, and he nods so you lean in to kiss him again. 

He makes a noise of surprise, immediately licking fiercely into your mouth to meet the movements of your lips. Slowly, Jeongguk pulls away from the wall and begins moving down to lay against the bed, holding himself up with a forearm on the soft material and strengthening his hold on you so you wouldn’t slip off from him. 

You feel Jeongguk grin against your lips at your eagerness but he maintains the energy. Arching your back a little, mostly for show, you reach back and push one of Jeongguk’s hands further down to your ass. He’s been so careful and gentle with you so far and, as nice as it is, you want more. His eyebrows furrow against you, curling his palm over the tangible curve before giving your ass a tentative squeeze and pulling a muffled moan from you. 

So Jeongguk does it again. Does it with more vigor, digging his fingers into the flesh of your cheek and grinding his hips upwards. Gets you throbbing insufferably and so wet. 

“Jeongguk,” you gasp into his mouth, meeting the movement of his hips with your own. The bulge in his pants becomes really prominent as you break the kiss, moving down his strong jawline to his perfect neck. 

Whatever perfume he uses, the smell is strong now, filling your olfactory senses with sweet powdery softness. Your lips search for that spot you ache to mark, digging your teeth into the gentle flesh and soothing  the area over with your tongue. 

The noise he makes…

Jeongguk whimpered when you were sucking and biting on his skin. 

It took so much willpower for you to not rip his damn top off when that sound reached your ears. You were so wet and throbbing in your pants, desperate for some form of touch besides your soaked underwear against your clit. If you could, you’d cover his entire body with hickeys, paint his neck all sorts of beautiful colors if it were socially acceptable for someone to be walking around like that and not have everyone’s immediate thought be that he got jumped or something. 

But you practice restraint and suck on the hot skin, kissing, and doing your best to keep yourself under control even if your wetness was starting to become bothersome. Jeongguk’s hands on your ass don’t help with that either. 

The hold helps you feel the shape of his fingers which are pretty long and thick. You’ve seen them writing, typing, gripping onto the pole in the subway so the veins and tendons pop out and you’ve reached a conclusion that you need to feel them inside of you. Pumping deep and slow. Since the digits are longer than yours, they would reach that damned spot inside, turn you into a shaking, coming, mess. You crave that. 

Even before Wooshik, these dry spells weren’t uncommon. You know that it’s just your monthly horror revving up the hormones that’s making you want some dick like water in a desert but still. 

A girl has her needs. Especially when said girl is constantly hanging around a hot guy. 

Once you pull away from his neck after creating a total of three hickeys, you sit up. All of the kissing and petting and grinding has made you all sweaty so you quickly pull off your quarter-zip hoodie, leaving the plain t-shirt you have on underneath with no bra. 

Jeongguk’s eyes fall to the way your breasts lift and fall with the movement, jiggling into place as you throw the piece of clothing somewhere. The change in temperature has your nipples straining against the thin material and you can tell his attention has shifted. 

With a cocked brow, you smirk. “Want my shirt off?” You ask, slowly twisting the hem around a single finger. 

“Yeah.” 

His hands give your ass another appreciative squeeze. One that nearly has you dropping the control but you rebuild quickly. 

“Take this off then.” You place a hand down on the base of his stomach. Jeongguk’s shirt is thin so you can feel his stomach through the fabric. You need it off asap. 

Jeongguk’s lips part. You think he’s going to deny at first. Maybe he isn’t comfortable showing you his body yet. That’s okay; you don’t mind. Whatever he’s comfortable with, right? 

But in a split second, he grips the gray fabric and sits up slightly to peel it off of his body and gives you a view of what he has underneath. 

Which is just exquisite. 

Jeongguk treats his body like it’s a work of art. When he isn’t gaming or studying, he’s in the gym and he has one of the strictest meal plans you ever see. Allowing himself one cheat meal out of the week and then sticking to his rice, steamed veggie and lean meats for the rest of the days. And that dedication shows in the way his body looks. 

While still being thin and put together, his stomach is defined with steel-cut abs and his obliques are enviable along with sturdy shoulders, firm chest and deliciously bulky arms. 

You’ve never really cared about the body of whoever you were sleeping with. Muscles are nice and hot but they aren’t a necessity. Honestly, having a handsome/pretty face can get a guy farther than a six pack but now you might be changing your mind on that stance. Because Jeongguk has a pretty face and a six pack. 

Or is that a twelve pack? You didn’t really count. 

A single finger starts at Jeongguk’s sternum, tracing down his body to the waistband of his sweats, taking your time to appreciate every patch of skin and flesh. You inch backwards so you are sitting more on his thighs than his lap where his bulge is firmly straining against his pants. Looking all inviting. Your thighs clench together to relieve yourself from the lack of attention.

But before you can wrap your hands around him, Jeongguk’s fingers close around your wrist to stop you. 

“You said if I took my shirt off, you would too,” he reminds you. His tone is low, barely teetering into a domineering one. Brings a rush of arousal to your pussy and you immediately bite the inside of your cheek. 

Jeongguk ordering you around is… really hot. 

“Eager.” 

The plain t-shirt is rather unflattering on the outside so you do away with it quickly, feeling the mass of your breasts lift and bounce back down while adjusting to the temperature change. Your nipples are hard and goosebumps cover your upper body. 

But that’s mainly caused by the way Jeongguk’s eyes practically ravish you. 

You wonder if he’s more of an ass guy or a boob guy. Because his grip has stayed on the plump curve of your backside but his tongue swipes over his bottom lip while staring at your tits like he’s at the Louvre and he has two seconds to take a glance at the Mona Lisa. 

  There’s a sense of vulnerability to have him look at you like this. Like you’re something perfect when all everyone else, including yourself, does is point out your faults. 

It’s too much. You need to make a move, get his eyes off of you, so your hand goes back to the waistline of his pants where his boxer band flashes quickly. Calvin Klein, black in color to match the color of his sweatpants. 

“Can I?” You ask, looking down at the heavy print showing through the material and your mouth waters. 

Jeongguk nods immediately. “Please.” 

Carefully, you peel back the first layer of clothing. The tight elastic pressure around his waist is enough to slowly peel back Jeongguk’s boxers, exposing the beginning of his ilium but then he raises his hips some more until his sweatpants are pushed a little past the beginning of his quad muscles. You desperately want to see the sinew on his legs because you’ve been feeling them flex and move against you this entire time and they are just to your expectations. His skin is soft, a little tanned, thin hairs barely visible on his thighs from the hallowed light. 

“What do you want? My hand or my mouth?” 

You said a blowjob but whatever he wants, you will do. 

His eyes darken with lust. “Y-your hand, first,” Jeongguk stutters, shaking some hair off his sweaty forehead.  You try not to smile excitedly at the word first. 

“Okay.” 

After pressing one more kiss on his perfect nose, your palm cups his bulge. Against the material, you can see somewhat of a defined shape. It’s thick, impressive looking, and your wetness is soaking through your pants, effectively ruining the pair but that’s the least of your concerns. You fight the urge to grind into something, relieve some of the throbbing pressure from your core, clenching around nothing in hopes that it will fix. 

Jeongguk says your name carefully, checking to see if you’re still okay with continuing and your attention is back on him. You give him a wry smile in response and then work on slowly tugging his boxers off of his hips to free his cock. 

You gasp when his length slaps against his bare stomach, incapable of holding it in. 

 He’s big and thick; bigger and thicker than any guy you’ve ever been with. Jeongguk’s dick is pretty. Two veins trailing up the sides and pulsating with blood, the tip peeking with a small droplet of pearly white pre-cum. 

“Fuck,” you curse, reaching a hand forward to barely wrap around him. Your fingers manage to encompass the whole circumference but you can only accredit that to your long digits. Otherwise he would be too girthy. 

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut when you pump his length once. His jawline strains sexily as little puffs of air escape his lips. He looks so good when he’s pleased. As if he was made to only look like that. The emotion sits perfectly on his pretty features. 

A bead of pearly white fluid seeps from the stop, collecting slightly over the flesh-toned head. You lick your lips. “I don’t think you’ll fit in my mouth.” 

“W-what?” He stammers. 

“You’re too big, baby,” you purr, panicking momentarily about the pet name. “Shit,” swearing under your breath when you feel him twitch. Then, you let a fat drop of spit fall from your mouth and onto the head to aid your hand gliding up and down. “My throat will definitely be sore tomorrow.” 

Not that you’re complaining. 

The boy beneath you flushes. “I–” his breathing quickening when your hand works over him expertly, barely a moan. “You–um–you don’t have to,” Jeongguk offers. 

You coo, reaching forward to boop Jeongguk’s cute little nose with your free hand, still slowly jerking his cock with the other, giving the fat length a nice squeeze at the base. “But I want to,” forcing a pout and watching his gaze turn heady with euphoria. “Don’t you want me to use my mouth? To suck you off nice and properly?” 

This is new for you. You are usually rather submissive in bed and you’ve always liked it that way. If anything, you sought after guys who were more dominant because it was an immediate turn-on for you but now that you’ve made Jeongguk all pliant and soft, you can’t stop. He just looks so perfect. His eyes clench shut, creases appearing at the sides when your hands squeeze his length teasingly on the upstroke, legs going more rigid. 

Jeongguk doesn’t respond at first so you lean down, holding yourself up with one hand splayed on the mattress, right next to his head, and increase the pace of your hand. You pay special attention to the tip and the spot right under where he’s sensitive, rubbing a thumb over the area to collect more precum on the way down his cock. Jeongguk sputters out a soft noise, gritting his teeth tightly. 

“You have to tell me what you want, Jeongguk,” you muse. The tips of your noses graze, your breasts meeting his hot skin. Jeongguk’s hands, which switched to curling into the fabric of your duvet, go to your thighs to squeeze them. At that point, you decide to only stimulate the head of his cock with the pad of your thumb, rubbing teasingly tight circles while Jeongguk leaks all over, rivulets of creamy white decorating his length.  “My hands? Or my mouth? What do you want me to do?”

Jeongguk goes crazy.  His back arches off the mattress along with a high whine emitting from his swollen lips. He looks so overwhelmed with red cheeks and his hands gripping onto your body like it’s a lifeline. 

“Y-your mouth! I want your mouth, please,” he whines once more, digging his nails into your thighs, surely leaving indents. You smile, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips before descending down his taut body. 

Jeongguk is a work of art after all and you need time to appreciate him. 

Your hands stop their tortuous movement, leaving Jeongguk’s cock to hold yourself up while inching down. You kiss down the right side of his neck. The skin is salty from sweat but you don’t mind. You kiss all the marks you left, the mole on his chest, the beginning of his abs (you pay special attention to this area), licking up a stripe to feel the ridges of his body before you end up on your knees in between his legs. 

While you were kissing him, Jeongguk kicked his sweatpants off his legs, allowing you to capture a full glimpse of his meaty thighs. His skin is flawless and soft looking and you bookmark the thought of leaving red lines atop his thighs while riding him like a fucking stallion for later. 

His length deliciously twitches again from the brief lack of touch. You eye it for a split second, mouth watering, before taking the head between your lips. He throws his head back in satisfaction. 

Jeongguk tastes good. A mix of skin, salt, but he isn’t bitter; soft, pliable skin meets the plush membrane in your mouth. You moan out while your tongue circles the head, awarding you with a fresh spurt of pre-cum. 

Giving head isn’t everyone’s favorite (totally understandable) but it’s definitely yours. You don’t know why, maybe you have an oral fixation that you don’t know about, but it always makes you wet and desperate for more. Especially when the guy you’re blowing has hot moans like Jeongguk does. 

“Fuck,” he drawls out, while your tongue moves over him. He wraps a hand around the back of your hair gently, barely pushing you down to take more of him into your mouth. 

Ideally, you’d punish Jeongguk for that. If you were continuing this dominatrix stint you have going on then he shouldn’t be pushing you and trying to choke you but you drop the whole act. 

Because he feels so good. 

Your wetness is trickling down the swell of your ass as more of your mouth stretches to accommodate his length. The back of his head is about to reach the back of your throat when you wrap a hand around to pump what you can’t reach. It’ll be impossible to take him all in one go. You need to warm up first. Fat rivulets of spit trail down to his base and collect there to ease your ministrations. 

“So good,” Jeongguk praises, tangling his fingers in your hair while the wet sucking noises filter through your apartment. “You’re s-so good at this.” 

Jeongguk’s low voice isn’t helping you. Another pathetically whiny noise is muffled by his big dick going back into your mouth, swallowing around the tip as you take a little more than before. 

Swirling your mouth, using the inside of your cheek, the side of your tongue and the puckered membrane of your lips in conjunction with your nimble hands, jacking his thick cock and feeling the skin get hotter, wetter, with every second that passes by. 

He’s probably big enough to make you squirt. Though, you are the type to squirt easily, but guys around his size tend to hit the g-spot head on, to turn you into a shaking, coming, moaning mess in their arms. The thought really gets you going, imagining yourself sinking down on him like a Queen perched on her throne and spilling all over his thighs with a loud noise. 

Would he like it? Would he want to see you do it again? 

Fuck, you need a little bit of friction here. The combination of sucking him off, Jeongguk’s breathy whiny noises, and the deranged thoughts in your brain make your pussy so needy, demanding attention. 

You think about reaching back and rubbing yourself, just for a second, but your brain is too transfixed on Jeongguk. 

“P-please don’t stop-p,” he begs, “Please–Ah, yes.” Sounding like he’s about to cry. 

Your wrist flicks up during your motions while you pay special attention to the head. Jeongguk twitches some more and judging by how hard he grips your hair, he must be close. 

So you make sure your tongue stimulates all of the areas that make Jeongguk quiver in your hold. Your back arches, suckling at the skin. 

“Can I,” he interrupts himself with a moan, hands shaking, “Can I cum in your mouth?” He asks politely. 

You pull off with a breathy sigh, moving your hand to respond. “Please.” You want to taste more of him, until he’s filling your throat up completely. 

Sinking back down, you take in as much of him as you can, deep-throating his cock to the best of your abilities. It’s wet, the noises are filthy, salacious, but you don’t really care that much. Jeongguk’s cock twitches again as he spurts into your mouth, awarding you with his release as he whines throughout. 

And like a good girl, you swallow every last drop, refusing to let even a tiny drop of it go to waste. 

Jeongguk pants. His fingers slip out of your ratty hair and his hand slap over his forehead while he collects himself. His thighs shake with the aftershocks of his orgasm, sweat collected at the enticing dip of his collarbones, making his skin look like it’s speckled with diamonds. While you sit up slowly and wipe the back of your mouth, tucking his slowly softening length back into his boxers with a soft pat. 

For a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything to you. All Jeongguk does is try to catch his breath, probably slow his heart rate a bit. 

In that short period of time, your brain speeds at 100 miles per second. Did Jeongguk like it? Did Jeongguk hate it? Will he let you do it again? Oh my god, do you want to do it again and again and again. Is he uncomfortable around you now? What next? 

Your thighs are folded under you, watching Jeongguk’s stomach tense and flex as he leans on his elbows to look at you. 

His lips are adorable pouty and the hickeys look really pretty on his skin. You want so much more from him but you’re too afraid to vocalize it. You don’t want to stop. You don’t want to wake up and force this memory out of your brain. Jeongguk is so pretty and perfect and so easy to want. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, exhaling quickly with a stupid grin. Unsure if he meant his lap or right next to him, you shuffle closer until Jeongguk pats the space next to his body and you move accordingly. Hands an knees on the bed like a slinking cat. 

The air, which was once zinging with tension, has simmered down a little. Jeongguk’s arm stretches out for you to lean your head on his bicep. Up close, his eyes sparkle more than the stars in the night sky as Jeongguk pushes all of the loose strands of hair out of your sweaty face. 

“You were really good,” he repeats. “Thank you for that.” 

It feels weird to be thanked for sucking dick so you shake your head. “No need to thank me.” And because it doesn’t hurt to be truthful, you open your mouth once more. “I really wanted to.” 

Jeongguk’s expression warms; his smile gets wider and his cheeks get rounder. His thumb traces the curve of your jaw, dancing over your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory again.

“So can I return the favor?” 

Your heart leaps to your throat. You were sure Jeongguk was under the impression that this was a simple blowie, the end. Nothing else and nothing more. Even though you wanted more, you were ready to leave this romp at that but he proves you wrong once again. 

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to?” 

Most guys don’t. Most guys give up the second they cum without even offering.

But Jeongguk fucking smirks when he noticed your shocked expression. “I really want to,” he copies you. 

Fuck, you think. You put on a nice pair of underwear thinking that this would happen and then the entire tutoring session you were gaslighting yourself into thinking that nothing would ever happen and now here you are. 

There’s no doubt in your mind that you want this. Your panties are soaked and your core is aching to be touched. You need it so bad that you might never forgive yourself for turning this down.  

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” Jeongguk repeats. 

“Touch me. Please Jeongguk,” you plead with him, placing a soft hand on his warm chest. The breath is just about to escape you when he leans in to kiss you with his supple lips. 

You almost cringe. You must taste like him and you’re sure that there’s still some moisture collected in the corner of your mouth but Jeongguk doesn’t care. He licks hotly into your mouth, taking control during the kiss which surprises you completely. 

Gone is the shy whimpering boy who begged you not to stop. Jeongguk’s fingers squeeze your hips then pull one of your legs over his thighs so that you get even closer to him and your center is more exposed. That same hand travels upwards to your tits and cups the mass, and it’s your turn to shake in his hold. 

He’s starting off perfectly, like he knows what moves drive you crazy just by looking at you. 

You sigh softly when your lips break and he begins kissing down your neck. Unlike you, Jeongguk doesn’t leave any marks. Instead, he’s strategic about creating a clean line from your mouth, smooching along your jaw, then the side of your neck, to the middle of your collarbones before meeting your boobs. Jeongguk hauls you up the bed a little so he’s facing your chest instead, bringing your body closer with a splayed hand on your back. 

“Jeongguk,” you try, unsure as to why you’re calling him out. Jeongguk pays you no attention, transfixed by your naked breasts. He expels something inaudible under his breath and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth while tweaking the other, causing your body to go rigid. 

His lips wrap around the bud, sucking and circling his tongue over it while his other hand tweaks and pulls at the other. Like his tongue, his finger moves in time to turn you into a pile of mush. You grind onto nothing, wishing it was his thigh instead because you need friction from how wet and needy you’ve become in the span of like 20 minutes. 

Moaning out at the feeling of him slowly stimulating you, Jeongguk switches to the other one until your nipples are left shiny, wet, and puffy from his lips and tongue. 

He picks up fast, it seems. While kissing down your stomach, he asks you, “What do you want me to do?” Just like you did. 

“Anything,” you respond. You don’t care what he does, you just want him to do something. 

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Gotta give me a real answer,” he pulls up a little closer to your face, cupping your swollen bottom lip thanks to all of his work. “Tell me.”

“I,” you start. In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind anything from him. But you feel the length of his fingers, thick and perfect, and you remember your pressing desire of having them inside of you. “I want your fingers,” deciding on that. 

He grins softly at how cute you become when you’re overwhelmed. Jeongguk doesn’t wait around any longer, fingers going to the waistline of your yoga pants and tugging them down slowly. They’re tight, sticking to you like a second skin, so they snag along the meat of your thighs. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind as the fabric bunches up into a little ring and you kick it off to a random spot on your floor. 

Cold air meets your soaked underwear, making you cringe at the feeling, totally unaware of the way Jeongguk gapes at the flimsy little thing hugging your hips. He gently traces the band over your pelvis, almost like he’s hesitation. 

You open your mouth, ready to check in to see if Jeongguk still wants to do this for you or not, but before you can, his fingers dip into your panties to feel just how wet you are from him. 

His expression morphs beautifully. “You’re…” he’s speechless at first. Jeongguk’s finger trails up and down your center, barely grazing your sensitive clit. 

A whimper escapes you. His touch is feather light and barely enough yet so much all at once. 

“Fuck,” he groans, hiding his face into crook of your neck, soaking up all of your arousal while his ears and neck get bright red. You’d be embarrassed by the rushing gush coating you even more if Jeongguk’s thumb hadn’t stopped at your clit to draw tight, short, slow circles. 

Such a gentle pace, way less intense than the bullet vibrator you’ve been using, and the pressure builds gradually. One of your hands wind in his hair and the other grips his bicep, openly feeling him up. 

“Fucking soaked,” Jeongguk grits, moving his thumb a little faster. 

Your eyes shut. “Oh J–” interrupted by a shaky noise spilling from your mouth. Jeongguk takes that as a good sign, deciding to torture you even further by moving his lips back to your stiffened nipples and using his tongue to suck and lick at them as if you aren’t already sensitive. 

“You’re pretty too, noona,” Jeongguk says, looking at you this time. Slowly, your eyes peel open to find his big brown irises glimmering at you. “I think you’re beautiful. Always have.” 

You blush immediately. You don’t know why this feels so intensely intimate, like a pan that’s gotten too hot. Is it Jeongguk’s tone, the fact that he’s so close, the way he looks at you to make sure you know and understand him? What is it that has you so stupefied by such a simple comment? 

Boys have called you pretty before, called you much worse too, but you should be used to it. Over the years you’ve started to develop a thick skin but this one gets to you. 

That flutter of butterflies comes back, dancing from the tip of your toes all the way to your head. Jeongguk has seen you grow, from a kid to a pre-teen and now an adult. 

And he still finds you beautiful. Even after every embarrassing phase. 

You begin to smile, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips, then the corner of his lips, his cheek and his nose, because he deserves it and he’s cute. 

“Thanks,” you mean it, even if the sweet moment cut all of the flourishing beginnings of an orgasm from you and Jeongguk’s fingers halted, out of your underwear and holding your hip instead. 

Jeongguk mirrors your expression. Then he looks down at where his hand is and back up at you, nervously tonguing his cheek. “Can I move now?” 

You nod your head yes quickly after he asks. 

“And…” Jeongguk still looks awkward. You go back to cupping his soft cheeks. “Tell me if I’m doing okay?”

You want to melt in his grip. “Of course, Guk.” Thumb swiping over his cheekbone affectionately. 

Jeongguk takes that as the greenlight and slips his fingers back into your underwear. His gaze is on you, studying your features when his thumb goes back to your clit while his middle finger teases around your opening. You clench, desperate for something to slip inside of you, lifting your hips up in hope that Jeongguk would take the hint and put his fingers inside but he continues collecting your arousal to get his digits wet enough. 

“Jeongguk,” you call tightly, digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders. He hums in response. “I need more.” 

His thumb decides to go faster at your demand but not fast enough and his middle finger still traces your opening instead of slipping inside. 

“More?” He repeats, lilting his voice teasingly. 

Shithead. 

“Yes, more.”  You want to whine, kick your legs even. 

He can feel how wet you’ve gotten, does he not know how much you want this? 

“You want my fingers?” 

“Yes,” you grumble but it sweetens at the end because his thumb starts moving faster over your clit and you feel the waves of pleasure swirling in your stomach, turning into a half-moan. 

Jeongguk angles his hand a little differently and, gently, pushes his middle finger inside you. He groans at the feeling of you. “So tight,” breathing out against your skin. 

You react immediately, throwing your head back. There’s a slight pinch but it's not even the slightest bit painful. The intrusion is welcomed; although small, you need it. Jeongguk’s finger is nice and long and he pistons it out of you with so much care while hitting just the spot. 

“Fuck, right there,” you moan out, turning your face into the soft material of your sheets, eyes rolling back.

Jeongguk slips another finger in and he stops teasing your throbbing bundle of nerves to focus fully on moving his digits, curving them upwards to your walls as you release a symphony of noises. Finding that soft spongy part inside of you and massaging it. 

“F-faster please, please, go faster,” begging him out of the fear that he’ll tease you just like he was doing before. 

But Jeongguk plays fair and fingers you even faster, upping the ante even more by removing his free hand and pressing down on your lower stomach, right before your pelvis. 

And you lose it. 

The pressure from his hand on top, plus the way his fingers are moving, just becomes too much. The  gradual pressure starts accelerating and accelerating until it drops like a rollercoaster and you feel a burst of tingling pleasure rush through your veins and all over your body. 

“I’m cumming!” Crying out, tears pooling inside your eyes streaming down your cheeks as your legs shake with the crashing waves of your orgasm. 

Different than when you do it. As good as your vibrator is, something about it has yet to make you orgasm like this. Heavy, powerful, almost numbing. Waves crash inside you, again and again, cresting at the peak and slowly simmering out into a soft current and then nothing at all. 

Your breath comes out in heavy pants, limbs feeling like jelly, slowly opening your eyes to find Jeongguk staring back at you in bewilderment. His lips are parted but his cheeks aren’t red with embarrassment. If anything, he looks like the complete opposite of that. 

Like he could watch you do that again and again. Something you would gladly agree with. 

Jeongguk takes his fingers out from your underwear, glistening with your arousal, and before you can offer him a napkin, he slips his digits into his mouth and cleans them off. You really begin to question if this man is a virgin or secretly a sex god waiting to be discovered. He’s way better than you were when you were inexperienced. Does he watch a lot of porn?

Or do Taehyung and Jimin just talk about sex around him too much? Must be that. 

“Mmh,” his fingers come out with a soft pop noise, “You taste amazing.” Jeongguk’s clean hand brushes some hair out of your face as he smiles. You lean into his touch like a purring kitten, curling into his chest because your entire body feels weak. 

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks, closing his arms around you. 

Nodding into his chest, “Yeah. Felt really good.” You want to say more but there’s no energy for you to do so. 

“Did it? You looked really hot when,” trailing off, you know what he means, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Kinda want to see it again.” 

That takes your attention. 

Removing the fact that you haven’t been touched in a bit, two orgasms from Jeongguk might put your legs out of commission and that was just with his fingers. You can’t imagine what it would be like with more of him, especially as he learns more about how to pleasure you and gets better. Your poor vibrator might be out of a job. 

“I would love to, but you definitely wore me out.” Pulling your face away, you look up at his perfectly crafted face. “Can we try that another time?” 

Another time, you get giddy even before he agrees. After getting addicted to Jeongguk’s touch, you don’t want to entertain the idea of this being a one time thing. 

“Of course.” And neither does he. 

Jeongguk kisses the top of your head gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You tangle your legs with his, inhaling his scent and doing your best not to fall asleep. 

It feels sticky and wet between your legs. You should change and you should get ready for bed. Jeongguk probably wants to go back to his house, right? He probably doesn’t want to stick around your place after what just happened. 

But you think about it and that’s the farthest thing you want. 

Being in his arms, you feel safe and protected, like you drifted off to another dimension where nothing bad has ever happened and you were still the girl you were when you left Busan. Happy and lively. 

You don’t want him to leave you. You don’t want this to be another shitty hookup or one-time thing that makes both of you blush and walk-away. You just want Jeongguk to be in your life. 

So you hold on tight, avoiding his eyes when you ask: “Do you want to stay here with me tonight?”

Please, please, you beg internally. You’ll make breakfast, there’s a pack of toothbrushes under your sink, anything. Just stay. 

And thankfully, Jeongguk responds without wasting another second of your time, putting you at ease once again.  

“Please.”

a/n: okay yes, that was a lot but more smut will come and more angst will follow!

taglist:

@iwuzhere

[ttheatre-trashh]

Read me yap about original kids ride the cyclone :333

for any more info about this show!! Look through the tag here

Dream of life. Jane doe walks on stage, and is kind of crumpled over, and slowly makes her way to stand up with stiff movements. This is the only song I have a recording of. As she slowly stands up, Jane doe lifts her head.

She has an echo effect added to her voice, and it sounds amazing. 

The Karnak is honestly hilarious, I loved his comedic timing. I can’t tell if he also had the echo effect, or if he was just an amazing voice actor. Sometimes he would mess up a line, but very quickly turn it into a robotic stutter, which was pretty smart. Love this guy. 

For virgil, they projected a projection of him onto the backdrop curtain. He was so silly I loved himmm. There was a fun transition from tiny rat form to anthro bass player. The bass solo was also great obv. 

Uranium suite was incredible. Ocean has almost this Disney channel main character voice? Idk but it’s so good. 

Mischa was slacking the whole time duh. Pulled out his phone at some bits. Ricky looked bored out of his fucking minddddd. Constance is just the sweetest ever I will kill for her. Noel is amazing and I love him. Like the pure SASS and EVERYTHING about him. Ricky the whole time stared into the audience like “kill me now”. We made eye contact a few times it was nice haha

After Uranium Ocean is kind of like,, calm but freaking out?? She kicks Karnaks box a few times throughout the show, including here. There are fun lights flickering and sound effects. Her voice is squeaky and cracky when she panicked or whatever. Again, karnaks comedic timing is amazing. 

What the world needs was so good. Oceans voice is amazing, the choreography was so snappy and swishy and sassy, very ocean. They hold up signs that spell out OCEAN, and in the flip side of them there’s a picture of ocean. Everyone was on point, and oceans delivery of every line was perfect. Like, the pure disgust she has when she goes “and a transformer movie” like babe has a personal vendetta against transformer movies.

I cannot stress enough how on point the choreography was, during the whole show, but like, I’m obsessed with the choreography of this song. There was a lot of hand flicking of that makes sense? Some fun little kicks.  There are tiny clips of it in some of the promo. 

After wtwn, ocean is freaking out. Karnaks delivery is perfect “blah blah blah needs a unanimous vote” oceans face drops. Long pause. « from each. And every. Member of the choir.”  

When ocean says she “loves” Jane, jane reaches out her arms and runs to hug her, but ocean dodges her and Jane doe just ends up almost running  into a wall. When she says she loves Noel, he just looks at her like “bitchgetthefuckawayfrommeew” and does his gay little pose. 

(E, the actor for Noel, uses they/them, so if I use those I’m talking about the actor) The play was so cute. After Noel said his line, ocean started crying and screaming and her and Constance were whining “NOOOEEEELL WHY DID YOU SAY TAHTTTTTT!!???” “UGH you always ruin these things!!!”  And stuff haha. It was great. 

Noel’s monologue was incredible, he fell to the floor during the dramatic bit about wanting to feel, goddamit.

 “I wanted to wake up,” fake throwing up for a second “in my own VOMIT.” huge grin. “Missing TEETH!” 

Noel goes behind the curtain/projector screen that they have on stage and starts singing. At about “I write poems to burn my firelight,” he comes out in Monique costume. Monique was so cool, she had fishnets, the iconic black wig, and a dress just like kholbys iconic one, but there was a little bow in the front,  and the skirt had strips of ripped fabric on the skirt. 

Again, the choreography of this song is amazing. everyone had chairs, and it was very leg-y? If that makes sense? But like in a “sexy” way, not an “Irish jig” sort of way.  Super snappy and clean cut. vocals are amazing, obviously. Ricky is kindof ominously standing in a corner with a beret and a cigarette playing the accordion. 

For the kiss, Monique and Constance danced together, then Monique and Ricky. Then Monique slapped Ricky, and Mischa comes over and they kissed. Adorable. 

The ending was so good, like the final « if I could have just one dream/if he could have just one dream/id be. That fucked. Up GIRL./HEY ». Mwah. Chefs kiss.

Every story’s got a lesson was so silly. Constance nailed the improv scene. This Ocean just. Needs to be in control. All the time. But like?? I’m making her sound bad but I felt bad for her because she wants everything to go her way but she’s not great at expressing that in a positive way. Any way, Constance gets excited at the end, like, « so I go out and do all. The. Drugs. 😁😁 » her little « BATH SALTS FOR EVERYONE!!! 😃😃 » 

Anyways. Mischa. 

Spence is literally an amazing mischa, he was so good. He started beatboxing really badly into the mic before he started talking about feeling, and the audience laughed. His accent was on point, and he spoke really naturally. Like, it didn’t feel super forced unlike some other Mischa’s I’ve heard (all Mischa are amazing some are just better accents yk)

This song is awesome was so fun. He had a tight white undershirt under his button down, which kind of just added to the silliness of the song instead of just being shirtless, yk? He had a chain and hat, duh. 

Everyone had these massive light up glasses, and Ricky was wearing a robot mask. It was so silly and I loved it. They did the iconic thing where they held onto Mischa’s unbuttoned shirt and made us flow to look like wind blowing

Omg. Talia. So this was so good. 

He awkwardly yet confidently re buttons his shirt, which the audience laughed at but I was like “yall stop that this gets emotional” but I think I’m just a bitch lol. 

The Talia monologue was incredible. Just, yes. Delivery was amazing, everything. I cried. A lot.  Mischa scrolled on his phone when something new appeared in the projector, like the photos and stuff. They used the curtain/backdrop as a projector screen, and there was the footage of Talia and Mischa. The wedding stuff and romance and shit. 

It was so sweet. I don’t have anything special to say about it, the monologue was just amazing. I completely broke down. 

For Talia, oh god. This was genuinely of the best things I’ve ever seen live. Spence’s voice is amazing, and again, I sobbed through this whole song. 

Everyone had the traditional costumes, and the girls had the big skirts, with the projections of Talia on them. I wasn’t sure if they were gonna do that, but it was beautiful. They also had the projection on Mischa’s chest at the end, when he’s belting. I completely fucking lost it.  

And then there’s the iconic nischa hug.  My heart. 💜 oh my god. 

MY FINGERS HURT (I LOST MY FIRST COPY OF THIS??? I HAD TO RE TYPE THIS???) BUT @noelgruberfr and @knockoff-conlon FEEL FREE TO FINISH THIS !!!