#Wall Calendar Trends

[joonsmagicshop]

Sundress Season

Summary: The heat of the summer means you are suddenly only wearing sundresses. Short, tight, impossibly cute dresses that make Jungkook feel things. When he decides to jerk off before a beach day with you little does he know you would accidently walk in...and like what you see.

Paring: Jungkook/Reader

Word Count: 6.2K

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: porn with slight plot, secret crush, friends to lovers, Jungkook is down bad, fantasizing, male masturbation, accidental voyeurism, handjob, blowjob, fingering, penetrative sex with protection, POV switch between him and reader, dirty talk, he calls her good girl at one point, slight fluff at the end, Namjoon mention cause he is my bias

Authors Note: okay so. I was about to take a nap and this idea popped into my head and I JUMPED out of bed to write it! It has been hot as hell all summer long and honestly unpopular opinion but I am ready for fall. Was gonna save this for Jungkook's birthday but oh well!

Also this was loosely inspired by a One Direction fic I read over ten years ago. While the fic is gone it is definitely not forgotten

Jungkook was someone who liked the summer months.

He liked the longer brighter days, the food eaten from a barbeque, bonfires with friends, and all the fun events that happen over the summer.

It was prime time for everyone to get out and do things before the harsh dull winter arrived.

However, this summer was different because by the time August rolled around Jungkook was just….over it.

He chalked it up to a lot of things.

The fact he didn’t get a proper haircut before the summer started, so he spent the whole time with a hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back from his sweaty neck.

The fact he had a song coming out at the end of August that he still wasn’t completely sure about so he spent most of his days either working on it in his studio or from the comfort of his own home.

Or maybe it was the fact almost all summer long the weather had been very hot and very humid, making his clothes stick to his skin the second he walked out the door and making it almost impossible to actually enjoy going out and doing anything.

Jungkook sighed as he crossed another day off his calendar that hung on the wall in his home office counting down the days until August was over.

Sure the start of September was his birthday and he was excited for that but he was mostly getting excited about the prospect of cooler weather and no more daunting deadlines hanging over his head like an angry raincloud.

As his best friend, you could tell Jungkook wasn’t enjoying this summer. His usual free-spirited nature seemed to be crushed by the weight of his work and also the humidity, which seemed to linger no matter how many summer rainstorms blew through.

So you had texted him a week ago asking if he wanted to have a beach day with you today.

You assured him all he had to do was drive and grab beach umbrellas and you would take care of the rest for him, making the food and grabbing a cooler full of drinks.

Jungkook was ecstatic at the idea and made sure to work extra hard this past week to give himself a day off to spend with you.

However, that did pose another problem for Jungkook as he left his home office to head back to his bedroom to make sure his beach bag was packed.

Sunscreen, towel, extra towel in case, his goggles for when he swam, his phone, a book Namjoon had told him he should read even though it had been three months since it had been loaned out to Jungkook and he still had not even opened it, a notebook and a pen in case a song idea came to him, headphones, sunglasses and lastly some of his favorite chips he was packing just in case.

While he was all packed and ready to go, there was still a big problem he was dealing with.

How was he supposed to deal with being around you while you were dressed in one of your many sundresses?

Somewhere online had dubbed it a “sundress summer” due to the humidity and the trend took off instantly. It seemed like everywhere he went girls were wearing these short cute sundresses because in their words it was too hot to wear pants.

You usually were not a trend follower as you opted to choose your own style but this was a trend you could get behind, and soon enough Jungkook found you wearing sundresses almost every day.

Soft blue ones with little bows on the straps, bright red ones with white flowers, and even some strapless ones that nearly made his eyes pop out of his head at the sight.

He genuinely didn’t think he would survive this summer if you kept up with this, especially since most of the sundresses were short and had a habit of billowing in the breeze making you grab the skirt and giggle.

The other big problem was you had no idea the turmoil Jungkook had been in all summer long.

You both were friends, growing up across the street from each other and hanging out almost every day. You went to the same grade school, and the same high school, and were inseparable. You supported his dreams of being an idol and he supported your goals and dreams too.

You had no idea that this was the summer that everything changed for him. When he realized that you were not just his best friend, but also a charismatic stunning woman who he started to gain a crush on.

Jungkook tried his best to keep the crush to himself. He didn’t want to lose you as a friend and it would be devastating to get rejected by you so he figured he would just keep it hidden and keep being your friend.

He would try his best not to scowl anytime a man came up to you and offered to buy you a drink. He would pretend it didn’t hurt when you would kiss strangers at the club wrapping your fingers through their hair and moaning against their lips.

He hated that when you dropped a guy because of whatever reason, his heart would do a little victory dance in his chest and he would try to look like a supportive friend and not a desperate loser who just wanted you to feel the same way about him as he did about you.

There were times though, when Jungkook was sure you felt….something.

How your eyes would linger when he took off his shirt. How you would always ask him to roll up his sleeve so you could look at the array of tattoos he had, how angry you got when that girl he really liked ghosted him a year ago.

There were times when he would also catch you staring at his lips. Just a quick downward flick of your eyes and in a blink it was gone.

But Jungkook noticed.

And he often wondered what would happen if he leaned in and kissed you.

Would he have read the entire situation wrong? Or would you kiss him back?

Jungkook shakes his head to rid him of these thoughts as he scoops everything up and puts it in his beach bag muttering to himself how he is being silly about this whole thing.

He is your friend.

And that’s that.

His phone vibrates on his dresser startling him, as he zips the bag closed and grabs it.

You: I have all the goods we need! I’m so excited for our beach day Kookie. Text me when you want me to head over. Might take a bit because of Saturday traffic.

Jungkook smiles at your pet name for him even though you have used it a million times and he quickly texts you back letting you know he was ready and you could come over whenever.

Jungkook’s vehicle had more storage space so you were going to drive to his place and he was going to drive to the beach. Plus his car had a sunroof which you absolutely adored and you often put your hands above your head like you were on a rollercoaster to feel the wind between your fingers.

It made him smile every time and made his heart pound in his chest.

Those were the moments of pure bliss where he felt his heart would burst out of his chest at all the feelings he had for you.

Feelings he was still trying to desperately hide.

Namjoon of course found out one night when Jungkook had one too many drinks and spilled his guts about it. Namjoon was patient with Jungkook as he told the entire story, how the crush came out of nowhere, and how he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t lose you.

As always Namjoon was the voice of reason and told Jungkook just to talk to you about it and Jungkook shot that idea down right away.

Namjoon promised to keep his mouth shut until Jungkook was ready to tell you himself which Jungkook vowed he would never… ever do. Your friendship was very important. He would take this secret with him to the grave.

With nothing else to do until you arrived, Jungkook shucked his beach bag off his bed and laid down.

He threw an arm over his face and let out a frustrated groan.

How the hell was he supposed to survive having a beach day with you? You were so beautiful. So sexy in your little sundresses, seeing you in a bathing suit would destroy him.

His mind wandered to last week when you met him for a lunch break you forced him to have because he was working so hard that he started skipping meals.

You showed up to his studio with food in hand and a little black sundress with small white and pink flowers scattered all over it.

The straps were so tiny and delicate and tied together with small pink bows and Jungkook couldn’t help but stare, as you brushed past him to put the food on the small coffee table he kept in his studio.

As you leaned down the dress climbed higher up your body, exposing more of your legs and the apex of your thighs to his hungry gaze and he couldn’t help it.

The blood rushed to his cock so quickly he felt dizzy as he scrambled to sit on the couch before you noticed he popped a boner because of you in that damn sundress.

You didn’t seem to notice as you sat next to him and chatted about your day as you ate alongside him.

Jungkook tried to focus on what you were saying, he really did, but his eyes kept trailing down to your thighs and how tanned they looked due to all the time you spent outside.

What he wouldn’t give to pull that dress up higher and expose more of yourself to him. What would you do if he got his fingers between those legs? How would you sound moaning out his name as he plunges a finger inside?

Back in the present time Jungkook groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

He could hardly hear the sounds of the lawnmower outside, or the kids screaming down the block as blood was pounding in his ears and he looked down with a grimace as he was hard in his swim trunks.

Achingly hard.

Just the memory of you in that dress alone made his cock fill rapidly and the bulge was evident as his cock stretched the material.

Now was not the time to pop a boner as you were going to be showing up soon but he felt like if he didn’t take care of it now it would never go down so he slowly lifted his hips to shuck off his swim shorts throwing them somewhere on the floor and freeing his aching cock.

His cock sat hard and heavy on his stomach as the head of it was a flushed red color. Jungkook took his time tracing his tattooed hand down his body, shivering when the air conditioning turned on, turning his nipples hard as he finally made his way to his cock.

He circled his cock which twitched in his hand and he got to work.

He threw his head back and imagined what would happen if he did lift your dress higher that day.

How you would stare at him all wide-eyed and shocked as he exposed your pussy. How you would be wet and throbbing for him. He would of course ask for permission before touching you and you would admit you’ve wanted this for ages.

Jumgkook sped up his movements on his cock, flicking his wrist over the cockhead and smearing his precum down his heated shaft. He always got so messy and wet when he imagined you and the glide felt amazing.

In his mind’s eye, you were grabbing his arm for support as his other hand explored your pussy. He would part your pussy lips so gently and you would be soaked for him. You would arch up into his fingers and beg for his touch as he would finally coat his finger in your wetness.

He would pop it into his mouth and taste you as you would whine and beg him for more.

The taste of you would explode on his tongue and he knew the second it touched his tongue it was over for him. He would never want to taste anyone else but you.

Jungkook sped up his movements once again as his muscles started to strain. He was getting close as his thumb flicked over his cockhead sending jolts of pleasure down his spine.

He would lay you back on the couch in his studio and fuck you open with one finger. You would be so wet for him, so needy for him. Your dress hiked up to expose yourself, one strap falling off your shoulder as you whine out his name.

Jungkook tightens his grip on his cock and begins to fuck up into his fist. His head is thrown back and his dark hair is a mess on his pillow. He bites his bottom lip to keep from whining your name out loud. His cock is throbbing in his hand, hot and hard and so desperate to release all over his twitching stomach.

He wants to make you cum apart all over his fingers. He wants to tease you, taste you, fill you up with his cock, and make you moan his name.

His hand speeds up as his hips fuck his cock wildly up into his hand.

Sweat is starting to form on his brow and he is close, so close he can feel his muscles tighten and his balls draw up. His cock is a sticky mess as he is leaking so much precum the glide is impeccable and the wet sounds are obscene.

“Y/N.” He groans unable to keep his noises contained as the muscles on his arms are bulging as he rubs his hand across his frenulum collecting the mess there to slide it down his shaft.

Jungkook can feel the beginning of his orgasm as he cries out your name and tightens his hand around his shaft jerking his cock quickly as the pressure builds.

He is right there.

His balls tighten, and he can feel his shaft contracting and spasming. His heart rate is rapid and the hair on his arms stands up.

“Kook?” He hears a soft small voice call and his eyes snap open as panic seizes his body. He released his cock to grab a pillow to cover himself as his head whips around to see you standing there in one of your sundresses looking horrified.

Holy fuck.

“Y/N!” He cries out, shoving the pillow over his cock which is still thrumming with need and twitching painfully as his orgasm is still just right there but you are also standing....right there.

He sits up against the headboard and puts a hand over his racing heart as he stares at you wide-eyed in absolute horror.

He was jerking off to you. His best friend. Moaning your name. And you walked in on him caught in the act.

Holy fuck he was so fucked.

“I-texted you to let you know I was here but you didn’t answer. I remembered where you keep the spare key so I-l-Let myself in.” You stammered unable to look away as Jungkook wished the bed and floor would swallow him hole.

You had driven over so excited to see Jungkook today and you even wore your best sundress just for him.

The pale blue one with the small bow in between the built-in cups.

You made sure to get all his favorite foods and snacks as you knew he had been working himself to death and you wanted to treat him.

He didn’t answer your knocks or your texts so you figured maybe he had his music on too loud once again and didn’t hear you.

You put the key in the door and were met with utter silence, which was a little weird but you figured he was in the back getting the umbrellas or something so you made your way through his apartment until you heard a noise.

A soft grunt that had you worried. Maybe he hurt himself? Maybe he was sick?

You flew to his bedroom and there he was.

All sprawled out on the bed with his shorts discarded on the floor. He was still wearing his white tee shirt and had his head thrown back against his pillows with his legs spread wide exposing himself to you.

You knew you should leave, you knew this was a private moment but you couldn’t help but stare as he worked his cock with his hand.

He was big and even from where you stood you could see how wet his cock was and how slick he sounded when he jerked it.

You knew you should step away, maybe stand outside until it was over but you were rooted to the spot as you watched his hips arch up and the filthiest moans leave his pink parted lips.

And when he moaned your name

Dear god when he moaned your name you felt your own arousal pool in your bikini shorts as you gripped the door for support.

Jungkook moaning your name.

He was fantasizing about you

He was the most gorgeous man you had ever met and he chose to fantasize about you when he jerked off.

The whole thing felt unreal.

“I-I- You… you weren’t supposed to-I didn’t mean for you to- fuck.” Jungkook stuttered as you put your bag down on the floor and entered his room.

His large dark eyes widened when you made your way to the bed and you could see his fingers flexing on the decorative pillow he threw over his lap to cover himself.

“I-fuck- I’m so sorry you probably h-h-ate me and think I’m a pervert- I-I can-explain.” He stammers cheeks flushed with the prettiest blush you had ever seen.

Jungkook continued to stammer out apologies as you stared down at him in shock. His hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead and his chest was heaving. You could see his muscles straining through the white material of his shirt and his hand held the pillow firmly over his cock.

Was he still hard?

Was he still horny?

Was he actually jerking off to you?

“Y/N please say something. Please.” He begs in a small voice as your eyes finally meet his and he looks in anguish over the whole thing.

“Were you…jerking off….to me?” You ask in awe as he flushes further and sits up higher on the bed.

His teeth bite into his lower lip as you sit softly on the edge of the bed.

“I-I can-I-” He stammers.

“Yes or No Jungkook?” You ask firmly.

His eyes widen and he nods. He hangs his head in shame and you feel your pussy throb.

Jungkook, your best friend, the guy you have had a crush on since high school was hot and bothered because of you.

It made you beam in excitement.

“Show me.” You say boldly as his eyes snap to yours and widen in shock.

“I-Uh- W-What?” He says.

“I want to see you finish. Or help you finish. Show me, Koo?” You plead as his tongue comes out to lick at his lip and the tension in the room is thick like the humidity outside.

“You don’t hate me? Or think I’m creepy? You’re not going to yell at me?” He says doe eyes wide as his hand twitches on the pillow again.

“Of course not. Masturbation is normal. I’m honored you’re even thinking of me in the first place.” You say as you slowly run your hand down his forearm.

“I died. I must have died or hit my head cause there is no way this is real. Holy fuck.” He mutters as you giggle and Jungkook can feel his cock, which had gone immediately soft at being caught, start to thicken behind the pillow.

“This is real. And I gotta admit. It’s hot as fuck you think of me when you touch yourself.” You admit as he blinks shyly at you.

“Can’t help it. These sundresses…fuck.” He says fingering the fabric of your dress before running a shaky hand through his long hair.

“Show me, Koo? Please.” You beg and he nods slowly as his teeth bite into his lower lip harshly.

“Don’t bite your lip Koo you’re gonna make yourself bleed.” You whisper as he lets out a breathy nervous laugh.

“Can’t help it. ‘m nervous.” He admits.

“No need to be nervous. It’s just me.”

“That’s the problem. The girl I’m fantasizing about is right in front of me wanting to see me jerk off. I’m so pent up I’m scared I’m gonna bust a nut all over this pillow.” He whimpers as you giggle.

“Then you better get to work. Show me? Please, Koo? Wanna see up close.”

He nods and removes the pillow baring his half-hard cock to you.

You gasp when you see it and Jungook covers his eyes in embarassment.

Even half-hard his cock is beautiful. The head is flushed a pretty pink color and there is a vein running up it that makes your mouth water.

“So pretty Koo.” You praise, as he removes his hands and stares at you in awe.

He slowly takes his cock in his hand and begins to jerk it. You watch as the flushed head disappears between his fist and how he takes his time with himself, flicking his wrist occasionally making pretty beads of precum leak out the slit.

It doesn’t take long for him to get to full hardness and he lets go of his cock to show you how it smacks against his stomach.

He is rock hard and leaking and the vein that winds up his cock is a lot more prominent now as the head of his cock is now a pretty flushed red color and shiny, so shiny.

“Fuck Koo you are so big.” You whimper as without warning you wrap your hand around his cock and his hips arch up into your touch as a broken moan spills from his lips.

“Can I?” You ask with a quirk of your eyebrow as he nods frantically and you snicker.

You take your time with him jerking him the way you saw him do to himself. You flick your wrist when you get to the top and you use your thumb to smear the precum over the head of his cock and his slit. He is so velvety and warm under your touch you let out a soft whine as you jerk him.

Jungkook is a mess below you. His chest is heaving, his muscles are straining and he is trying his best to hold back and not cum the second you get your hands on him.

“F-Fuck I hate to say this b-but ‘m close.” He whines in panic.

“Can you hold back a little longer so I can taste you?” You ask innocently as he bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes trying to take deep breaths and stop the incessant throbbing of his cock. His denied orgasm from earlier was making him needy and he needed to calm himself down before he made a mess all over your fist.

You lean down and slowly give the head of his cock kitten licks. Jungkook moans above you and you grin as you finally take him into your mouth.

Your mouth is hot and wet and everything Jungkook had ever wanted as you suck him down, bobbing your head and humming around him, causing vibrations to run up his shaft.

With your other hand, you jerk him, picking up speed as you suck him off and when your tongue flicks over his frenulum Jungkook is a goner.

He croaks out your name and holds back your hair as he cums down your throat. No warning could have pulled you off his cock as you swallow everything he has to give, slowing your strokes and milking his cock for all that he has.

“S-Sensitive. Fuck.” He whines out as you pull off and open your mouth to show him proudly that you swallowed it all.

“You are trying to kill me. Holy fuck.” He breathes out as you giggle and curl up next to him, lacing your fingers together and waiting for him to come down from his high.

You can feel the uncomfortable wetness between your thighs but you don’t worry about that now as you bury your face in his chest and listen to his breathing settle.

“I’m dead. Like I’m actually dead. No way that happened.” He pondered as you giggle and pinch his side

“Ouch! What was that for!” He cries out as you sit up and smirk at him.

“Dead people can’t feel pinches. You are very much alive.” You say smiling down at him as sits crisscrossed on the bed and stares at you.

“You-You jerked me off.” He says

“I did.” You reply with a smug smile.

“I- I imagined I was fingering you and suddenly you were here…jerking me off.” He wonders aloud.

“Mm, you fingering me. That’s hot,” you say feeling your pussy throb.

“But we were friends aren’t we?” He asks in a small timid voice.

“Friends can jerk each other off. Though... I would like to be more than friends.” You reply feeling your heart racing in your chest.

“Like…fuck buddies?” He replies as his tongue comes out to lick at his lips and you can’t help but laugh.

“I was thinking we could go on a date.”

His eyes bulge and his cheeks turn a beautiful dusty pink.

“I’ve liked you for years now Koo. I didn’t think you felt the same but walking in on you… moaning my name…. Fuck.” You say running a hand through your hair.

Jungkook doesn’t respond.

And for a breath, you are worried you read the whole thing wrong and fucked this friendship up.

But then he leans forward, tangles his hands in your hair, and kisses you.

And you kiss him right back.

The kiss is passionate and wild. You press your lips hard into his and pour out all those days and weeks and months of looking at him and wishing he was yours. Jungkook moans against your mouth which gives you access to swipe your tongue along his lower lip as he groans.

“Fuc-Fuck I feel the same way.” He mutters against you as he flips you over with ease and has you pinned to the bed.

You giggle when you look up and see him overtop of you, his eyes wide with disbelief and his lips red and swollen.

He swoops in and kisses you again as you run your hands down his strong back and arch up into his touch. His lips move with yours and you boldly wrap your legs around his back to push his crotch into yours making him grunt against your mouth.

“Let me make you feel good.” He groans as you nod.

Jungkook fixes the pillows behind your head and gets to work peppering kisses on your cheeks and down your neck causing you to arch up into his touch and moan.

You are beyond needy at this point and when he tugs at the straps of your dress to kiss at your shoulders you moan out his name and flutter your eyes closed.

His lips feel like heaven and when he finally had enough kissing he kneels above you and you open your eyes.

“I never thought this day would come. You in a sundress, laying in my bed. Fuck I’m the luckiest guy alive.” He says as you smile up at him with adoration.

Jungkook’s warm hands come to rest on your thighs and he slowly and carefully lifts up your dress to expose your body to him.

His eyes widen when he takes in the black bathing suit bottoms you picked out which are modest enough for the beach but have two tantalizing ties at the sides holding the material together.

“Thank god I got you in my bed. It would have been so difficult seeing you in these bottoms without getting hard.” He admits as his hand toys with the ties and when he finally unties them both and pulls the fabric off of your body you are panting below him.

You snicker when you see his cock bobbing between his legs at the sight of you and he wraps a hand around himself to stroke his cock to ease some of the ache.

“Hey, you already got your turn!” You tease as he releases his cock and grins sheepishly at you.

“May I?” He asks and you nod, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as his fingers part your folds and he swears under his breath.

“Fucking soaked for me. Just like I imagined.”

He gathers your wetness and brings it up to your clit as he rubs you in slow circles causing you to arch off the bed and whine out his name.

Jungkook continues to circle your clit agonizingly slow and he snickers when you beg him for more.

“How are we going to have sex and make it to the beach if you're going this slow.” You say as his eyes widen and his movements halt.

“Koo.” You whine as you grab at his wrist to get him to do something…anything.

“You want to have sex?” He asks shyly as you stare down at him.

“I’d like to. Only if you want to though. I’m okay with this too.” You admit as you see his cock twitching between his legs again.

“I want to have sex with you.” He says as he pulls you in for another rough kiss and his hands return to your pussy with enthusiasm.

“Can I slip a finger inside? Gotta prep you for my cock.” He growls against your lips as you nod and he gathers more wetness on his middle finger before slipping it inside your tight wet heat.

You cry out his name and grab onto his bicep as he thrusts his finger in and out of your body. He wastes no time adding another finger and the stretch makes you whine but he is careful and takes his time until you are moaning again and begging him to move.

He scissors his fingers causing you to flutter your eyes closed and arch up into his touch. Your whole body is on fire and when he curls his fingers you feel every muscle in your body start to tense as you grind down on them desperate for more.

You blindly reach down for his cock which is now standing hard and proud and when you circle it Jungkook hisses and uses his free hand to swat yours away.

You open your eyes to frown at him but he curls his fingers up inside you again and you are seeing stars.

“I’ll cum if you jerk me off Y/N. I swear this is so hot I’m so fucking hard right now. Don’t wanna cum around your fist.” he explains as you grin.

“Then fuck me and cum inside me instead.” You offer as he removes his fingers and you open your eyes in time to see him pop them in his mouth.

You gasp as he licks your slick off his fingers moaning at the taste and your pussy throbs impatiently as he takes his time.

“Koo please.” You beg as he finally gets his fingers clean and he hops off the bed to retrieve a condom.

You watch as he rips open the packet and rolls the condom down his length. He strokes himself and whimpers, which makes you smile to know he is just as desperate as you are

“How do you want it?” He asks hovering above you, lips inches from your own.

“Doesn’t matter just want you.”

He carefully drags your body to the end of the bed and you giggle when he opens your legs and wraps them around his torso.

You stare up at him as he takes his time to tie back his hair.

“Koo. Don’t tease.” You whine impatiently as he finally gets his hair tied back and he grabs the base of his cock to position himself at your wet folds.

“I’m gonna be honest with you. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last.” He admits as he teases your slit with his cockhead soaking it in your wetness and you whine out in impatience.

“I don’t care about you lasting. Just fuck me already before I do it myself.” You beg as he finally slips his cockhead inside and in one smooth thrust he buries himself as deep inside of you as he can go.

You squeeze your eyes shut and wince at the stretch and Jungkook leans down to press soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

“Doing so well for me. Deep breaths now. So fucking tight around my cock. You are so wet for me. Fuck you feel heavenly.” He praises as he shallowly thrusts inside of you letting your body adjust to his girth and giving you all the time you need.

“Baby, are you already throbbing around me?” He teases as you open your eyes to playfully smack his arm and he shoots you his classic bunny smile.

“Sh-Shut up.” You plead as he begins to give you harder and deeper thrusts and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He feels so good inside of you. The way his cock drags against your walls has you crying out his name and when he starts to really thrust deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Fu-Fuck Koo. Feel so good.” You cry out as he holds your legs steady and thrusts his cock inside you, arching his hips so he can hit your G-spot with every thrust.

“Wh-Why are you so good at this what the fuck?” You grit out as he chuckles above you and pushes your legs higher so he can hit deeper inside of you.

“Are you a-actually mad at me for being good at sex?” He taunts you as you decide to get back at him by squeezing his cock with your walls which makes him grunt and fuck you harder and faster.

“No, I’m m-mad we waited so long to do this. Fuck.”

Jungkook picks up speed on his thrusts all the while you are powerless on the bed as you take what he gives you. You claw at the bedspread and moan his name as you feel the coil of pleasure get tighter in your stomach and by the way Jungkook is thrusting you know he is close too.

“C-Close. Koo. Please. M-More.” You beg not even able to make a coherent sentence but lucky for you Jungkook knows what you mean as he brings a free hand down to rub at your clit and you cry out his name and grind down on his cock desperately trying to meet his thrusts and chase your ever building high.

Your whole body is on fire, everything is strung tight and you can feel your pussy start to spasm around his cock.

“C-Close.” You cry out in warning as he thrusts into you with such force it pushes you up the bed.

“Cum for me Y/N. Cum around my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He demands and you lose it.

You arch up and close your eyes as you shout out his name and cum hard around his cock. You feel your walls clamp around him as Jungkok groans and throws his head back cumming hard into the condom as your walls keep his cock from thrusting inside of you.

Waves of pleasure roll off you both as Jungook releases your legs and slumps down over top of you keeping his cock inside until you are done riding out your high.

The only sounds in the room are both of your heavy breathing as he finally slips out and leaves to go get cleaned up.

You feel weightless as you lay on the bed and press a hand to your heart as you try to even out your breathing.

Jungkook comes back with water and a warm towel and takes his time opening your legs and cleaning you up as you stare at the ceiling in a post-sex haze.

He lays down beside you and you curl up into his chest as he strokes your hair and praises you for how well you did.

There is a welcome ache between your legs from how roughly he fucked you but you find you don’t mind too much as he wraps his arms around you caging you against his chest.

“That was incredible.” He says as you finally open your eyes to look at him.

His hair was coming out of its bun and tendrils were falling in front of his eyes. You reach up to push them away and smile. He was so handsome.

“That was very incredible holy shit we shouldn’t have waited so long.” You say as you both hear a noise outside and look up to see the sky had grown dark and a heavy rain was coming down.

“Oh shit.” You giggle as you both sit up and stare at the rainstorm outside.

“Guess no beach day for us.” He says smoothing down your hair as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“How about a movie day instead? I still brought snacks and drinks.” You say as he nods and carries you off the bed to the living room and you giggle the entire way.

Permanent taglist

@caught-in-the-afterglow

@hearteyes4hobi

@m00njinnie

@stayonmars

@marihoneywk

@mustbeaweasleyginger

@xmspurple7x

@taekritimin123

@lerasi

@dejaariana

[aceies-desiresxx]

one of my favorite things to imagine in disney twst is yuu (your character) deciding to create a school wide publication. a school digital newspaper for the students of NRC.

the dates of all the upcoming unbirthday parties + plus a nit-picky checklist and particular rules that might apply that week to help out the heartsabyul students who don’t wanna deal with “having their head off”

constant updates of the week’s spell drive tournaments and games , + scoreboard for the season, as well as additional info about scouts and recruiters coming to visit said games to encourage the student athletes to reach out and do their best in hopes of their sports career, even a leader board + and mvps so far

monstro lounge’s weekly specialties and deals as well as hiring info incase students want to earn some extra money on campus, and how to contact azul if you’re from another dorm

reminders of important dates on the lunar calendar for both werebeastmen and scarabia students + the newest imports from foreign lands in sam’s shop that might make their dorm feel more like home

news about the newest fashion trends and movies + plus a gossip column that has features on particular students. it’s worded in a riddle, and all names are anonymous so the student body spends awhile trying to figure out who it’s about

new game releases, paired with student options on difficulty and enjoyment. students handles will be tagged allowing for their streams to reach a larger audience + showcases of student art

history on NRC and spooky stories that will be fun to theorize about. legends of trapped souls on campus ground and interviews from alumni and what they think of it or if they were witness to the history

you can also find info about clubs and their recruitment and how to join, when the housewardens will have another meeting with eachother so you can voice your ideas to them in hopes it will be brought up, dates for large student study sessions and after school help, dates for “leaked” pop quizzes or even large tests that you might’ve forgotten were gonna be later that week. tickets and shows to student performances even dumb quizzes to pass the time. you can find all staff emails and how to even duel your house warden to take their spot. but for some reason that tab doesn’t have a lot of viewers.

this digital publication keeps the student body of NRC well informed and is popularly visited, only gaining more traction as the school year goes on. so ofc students have been trying to figure out who’s been behind it.

all the crisp photos of the spell drive players, the leaked dates of tests, the gossip, sam’s stock. how’s one person able to get the news before anyone else is? no way azul would sign a contract with them, plus even azul doesn’t have access to all this info. if only he had some sneaky eels who love to be as slippery as they are in the water, above ground. or a few ghost friends able to go through walls and overhear things they probably shouldn’t. maybe sam IS in on it, wanting to spread awareness about his goods so he makes profit. even a cat small enough to sneak around when bribed with enough tuna could help out. plus a killer camera from the headmaster. maybe crowley knows what’s going on but is letting things play out. so far it hasn’t gone too far. plus. who would suspect the prefect from another dimension? they have a hard enough time as is. no way they’d be able to keep up.

[solstices-dreams]

𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫 / 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 !

𖦹 - compare your height to people in your dr

[height comparison link] or use a tape measure and you can mark the spots on a wall or door frame with painter’s tape. it’s more fun to do it in person rather than online so you can see better how you compare !

𖦹 - make a scrapbook page

ex. first week back at hogwarts, hogsmeade trip, a fun weekend, a tour, a mission in an mcu dr, a case in a criminal minds dr

𖦹 - make a bracelet of you and your s/o’s eye color like the tiktok trend or just colors that remind you of your dr (or beaded bracelets depending on supplies you have)

[super easy two color bracelet] [slightly harder alternative] [alternative]

𖦹 - make a meme compliation, use pinterest gifs or find memes online

𖦹 - make pins for your dr

[easy diy pins to make without button maker]

𖦹 - make character alignment charts / character headcannon charts on pinterest

𖦹 - make a pinterest board of your camera roll, impromptu photos of people, photos you’d remake w/ people from your dr

𖦹 - paint your nails the color they’d be in your dr

𖦹 - make a calendar to-do list (when you have classes, photo shoots, dates, hangouts, etc)

𖦹 - make a cardboard cutout of someone from your dr (print out the person, use cardboard, etc. straightforward)

𖦹 - dress up / do you hair like you would in your dr

[prettylittledollswork]

Lucifer checking up on mc when he feels they aren't feeling well during diavolo's balls

Or

Mc feeling homesick

I just want to go home.. - Lucifer x Reader Part One !

Author note - Thank you so much Anon ! I decided to incorporate both ideas into one if you don’t mind of course. Hope you enjoy, please give some feedback ! Also, sorry for the one part, it’s like 2 AM here and I need sleep. I’ll make the next part tmrw!

Part 2 link (to be added)

Info ! - You felt homesick at a ball and down. Lucifer and his attentive personality naturally noticed and he decided to check up on you.

CW - Kinda Oc!Lucifer, he’s a bit too sweet. A bit of angst, mostly fluff. Upset!reader. A bit of crying near the end, sentimental. Mentions of throwing up (not graphic just the words ‘throwing up’)

During one of Diavolo’s extravagant balls, you felt awful. A longing for home, not the House of Lamentation, home. Home as in back where you came from, the bustling streets full of humans, your kind. You missed the sweet aromas from street food that filled the entire block, you missed the fashion trends, you wanted, no needed to at least visit the place that nursed you. It’s true the Devildom had the same things but it just wasn’t the same. The seasons, the calendars, as time went on, you felt yourself losing in touch with humanity. Your vision was blurry, unable to think straight. Maybe you should’ve convinced Lucifer to let you bring one of his brothers to accompany you. You looked around, your eye catching Lucifer talking to a few nobles and Diavolo just enjoying the ball as usual. You sighed, going to sit down. Every time you thought of Earth, it was as if one was tugging lightly at your heartstrings. It felt worse as time went on, you had to tell someone!

It was tiring. As you kept thinking, you slowly lost consciousness. In a trance, your mind was fogged up with thoughts, feelings, and people. You wanted to run away but couldn’t. As you attempted to focus once again, there was a familiar scent and warmth. You open your eyes to see..all black? Is this some kind of joke? You pull away to see everything clear up, what once was a skin colored blob with black and red slowly formed into a worried Lucifer. He seemed..scared?

A few beads of sweat rolled down his face as you hugged you once more, “Oh my Diavolo.. You’re alright..” His grip tightens around you, you could see him slightly trembling. This must be a joke, right? The great Lucifer is in front of you, hugging you. You fully break out of the trance. “What’s wrong?” You ask, obviously confused and bewildered. “You.. You were just staring at the wall, there wasn’t a single glimmer of light in your eyes. I called you many times but you didn’t response, almost as if.. You were under a spell.”

You look at him, astonished. You couldn’t believe this. It felt like only a few seconds to you. “It’s just, I..” Before you could finish your sentence, tears rolled down the porcelain like face of yours. You thought of Earth, all the people you had left when you decided to stay in the Devildom. You missed your old school life, not that there was anything special but it was simple. It was normal. Lucifer wrapped his arms around you tighter, “You don’t have to explain. I’m here for you. If I had known sooner I would’ve not brough-“ He was cut off.

He was cut off by you. “Please.. Can we go back to the House of Lamentation for now..?” You asked him in a meek tone, afraid of his response. To your surprise, he agreed. He went up to Diavolo, conversing with him for a bit before back to you. “Let’s go, let’s go home.” He said, the word home making you feel even worse. You felt disgusting even. Like throwing up.

[t00thpasteface]

hey! i was just curious if i could use your art in an artist study? i looked over your faq and i didn't see any mention of it so i just wanted to ask. it's okay if the answer is now, no pressure :)

(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) sure, if you credit me! i would be incredibly flattered!!

now that being said, i would also like to share with you some artists whose work i've enjoyed doing studies of! i find it's very useful to "follow the money" with artists you like, and go along the chain of inspiration to see how ideas and styles can change from person to person.

vincent van gogh is my BIGGEST inspiration in terms of color and composition! his unique style of brush work is what he's best known for, but i recommend looking at his works holistically too, and seeing where the eye is led and how he plays with light, color, and mood. if you want to go further, he was very inspired not only by prior impressionists, but also by japanese ukiyo-e artwork— try comparing "starry night" to "great wave off kanagawa" and seeing the similarities in the grand, sweeping movements they convey.

i'm sure i've said this a million times, but genndy tartakovsky has probably my favorite cartoonist style. it's at its peak in samurai jack— opinions are mixed about the narrative quality of season 5, but if nothing else, the art direction is absolutely jawdropping. one of my favorite scenes is the bit in the tomb, where jack is hiding in a sarcophagus, because the music and visuals are paying homage to a scene at the climax of "the good the bad and the ugly"!

in a totally different direction from those two... i'm a huge fan of gil elvgren's pinup girls! i've had a few different pinup calendars over the years, and at the end of the year, i like to cut up the pages individually for mini posters— i've covered pretty much all my available wall space in his illustrations. i love it when artists don't feel the need to sacrifice expressiveness for realism; his girls are SO DARN CUTE and they all look like they're having so much whimsical, cartoonish, flirty fun!

here's a post where i talk about more inspirations!

here's a post listing some other tumblr artists i like!

i'm also just very heavily inspired by 50s-60s print illustration... things like advertisements, "clip art" (which you had to physically clip out of a book and paste onto the page), and of course, tv cartoons. one big trend i love with that "googie" art style is how incredibly limited the palettes were, and how efficient the economy of line was. as much as i love the bold, blocky, dynamic shapes of styles like tartakovsky, who takes insp

also, please remember i'm entirely self taught and am NOT an expert, so just be aware of that if you see any weird stylistic choices in my work... i admire the work of a lot of professionally trained artists, but that doesn't mean i have any training or real right to go around teaching people stuff. i'm just some guy from a big crazy family full of artists, only some of whom went to school for it.

okay, that got way longer than i meant it to, SORRY! here's a pic of my cat Carmen as a thanks for reading this far ^_^

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 4

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Donnie's always working on something like in this week’s chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!

“Okay.”

You looked over from where you were adjusting the collar of your shirt.

“Technically your cycle started six days ago, but marking today as the first cleared from your period.” Donnie spoke with a litany of screens about him.

“It was a long one…” You ruminated. “I hate when it’s just bloody discharge those last few days, like just empty out already.”

Donnie nodded and paced with his circle of screens moving fluidly along.

You noticed a few purple Tetris blocks mixed in amongst the technology and walked closer to get a look at them.

“With your permission I’ve taken an average of your cycles to work off of.” Donnie paced away from you without noticing.

You gave chase.

“As you have cleared, I’ve been examining you daily through the entirety of approximately your last three cycles. That paired with menstrual data that was passively collected, I can accurately map out our schedule.”

You got close to one floating purple block, but Donnie neared a wall and, like a Roomba, rotated away to go in another direction.

“We then take into account your clinical OBGYN visits. Your gametes are considered in a good health range. Mine are in a similar state per my personal evaluation. It is only combining our genetics that interferes now. Consider we are tethered to probability, following your ovulation gives us the best chances of conceiving.”

You watched his path and waited for what direction he would bounce towards next so you could intercept.

“My sperm appears to have a similar lifespan to that of a humans’. That’s a three to five day window in which they can survive in your reproductive system. To best maximize our chances, we should keep you filled just prior to and during your ovulation. Hence the necessity of your menstrual schedule.”

He trended towards the bed and you frowned because that would send him right back out into the bedroom proper.

“Now, we could use the plug, but that was meant as a sexual device. There is no need to keep you full of seminal fluid which only acts as transport.”  

You saw mental images of Pong play out and realized he would soon be heading straight back towards you.

“A more useful and adjacent device would be a conception cap, but I wonder about its necessity as my sperm are tenacious…”

You adjusted your stance and waited.

“We can reconsider going forward if our current methods don't prove fruitful.” He made the final pivot in your direction. “For now, we will begin with this schedule.”

Before he reached you a calendar appeared in your face.

It marred your vision and kept you from seeing those strange fragments.

You gave a small sigh.

“Something wrong?” He swiped your screen to the side so he could better see you. “I debated a separate calendar from our usual, but it made more sense to combine them. Why waste time going out to dinner when we could put our hours to better use filling you with my seed?”

Your stomach flipped and you almost forgot about your other quest. “T-that’s not…”

He waited.

You shook your head and further moved the screen to step into his space.

Holograms broke up around you and you reached out toward the floating oddities.

“What are these?”

Donnie’s arm lowered and, with it, his screens collapsed. “I have been pushing the limits of my ninpo.”

“This is your ninpo?” You tapped the small block and it was indeed solid.

“Yes. My mysticism forms via construction. It is what I understand. However, it is also a manifestation. I have reason to believe that I can integrate it into my technology.”

“You want that?” You cupped your palms under it as if to hold the pieces. “Your tech is amazing. Would the ninpo make it better?”

“My screens now are hologram projections. They come from a knowable source. Though they are expertly encrypted, there is still a chance they could be hacked. Mystic technology, in theory, has no system to stem from. It is being projected from my very being. A completely uncrackable network!”

You sought Donnie’s eyes with growing amazement. “Oh… When you put it like that…”

He nodded enthusiastically. “I can replace everything with complete safety.”

Within your palm, you watched the pixels shift ever so slightly.

“However, data is intangible. While you say you build a system, you are instead writing the basis for it. I can visualize the code, but not its weight. There is a current disconnect between such so I have a simple form of a router up for the time being. I am feeding the connection from my tech gauntlet through my ninpo before it reaches the usual old screens. I am hoping it will help inspire said information to display as if it were a computer and I can then cut out the middle man.”

“Your gauntlet…” You let the ninpo go and moved to touch the device on his wrist.

“I have no plans to stop wearing or using it. My ninpo requires focus and tapping energy of which I have little stamina for. It is another facet of the router manifestation. Raphael described mystic arts as any other muscle to be trained. Thus I try to keep some form of ninpo up when I can and for as long as I am able.”

“Right… The tech’ll be a backup if you’re ever out of commission.”

“I suppose…” Donnie had an interested edge to him.

You fluttered your lashes as you waited for him to elaborate.

He churred into your space, but didn’t make contact. “It’s mysticism. Its rules are infuriating. Who’s to say I am limited in that way? I aim to create lasting constructions.”

“Donatello, my love, always pushing boundaries.” You spoke wistfully.

He lavished in the praise with closed lids before he straightened his posture.

“Speaking of lasting constructions…”

He eyed you and brought the screens back up.

“Let’s say I didn’t hear anything after you mentioned my period being over… How would you feel about repeating everything…?” You grinned.

His patience for you didn’t seem to have a limit though he did have minor scorn as he started his explanation over.

-

You were giddy as you stood outside of your own front door. Adjusting your clothes for about the third time, you debated your entry. You were spoiled for choice, but wanted to make this occasion special. Per Donnie’s planning, today marked the window just before your ovulation. It was the crossroads section in which his sperm would stay alive within you and be ready to inseminate the moment it became possible.

You had both also agreed to stave off sex until today. It was a paltry three day window and you had joked about Donnie saving up. As he was these days, he had bitter corrections for any perpetuated mythos. He was a regular sex ed teacher and explained that while it was possible that certain abstinence could lead to increased sperm counts, the ejaculate would contain older, less agile emissions. It was under his scrutiny that you agreed to only wait to enhance this moment.

A giddy countdown now had you shaking with the thrill and your entry. 

Should you come in sultry and swing your belongings out of the way while announcing yourself?

Would Donnie be waiting to sweep you off your feet?

Would you not make it to the bedroom?

Would there be a line of candles and flower petals guiding your way?

Running through every scenario, you abandoned them all in favor of the door knob. It turned for you and you pushed against the wood. It revealed your apartment and you didn’t immediately notice anything had changed. It looked like your usual home and your lips parted to announce your presence.

Before you could speak, your husband stepped out so he was across from your entry.

He was the picture of dichotomy.

From his posture and squared shoulders, he was ready.

From his stance, he could not be knocked down.

From where his hands lazily flopped back to his sides, it said he’d been wringing them.

From the pinched lines of his face and the faded look to his pupil, he was tightly wound with nerves.

All of him read an equal amount of excited and nervous.

You forgot all about some fancy entrance and moved to your mate.

He accepted you as your bag fell to the ground. His willingness to give himself over read as an emotional scar and you swept over his shirt. It was something plain he’d probably been in all day and, upon finding nothing of note, you coasted up to his cheek. His head tipped into your palm and you felt your affection swallow you whole. “Hello, sweet. You hanging in there?”

“I should have asked you to take today off…” He spoke with sorrow.

“We’re saving that for ovulation day.” You reminded him.

“I know…” His hands trended beneath yours. “That’s why I didn’t.”

You nodded and curled your fingers to pull him down.

He resisted at first, his eyes darting to commit you to memory before he lowered.

He came with a winding and you met him for a kiss.

It struck as mellow in comparison to everything you had seen. He seemed to smile at your confusion and pressed into you to make his intention known. What came then was tenderness, but those nerves still slipped beneath it. You wanted to ask why, but the glowing embers against his lips spoke of how deep his desire was. You imagined maybe he had a fear of how deep his carnal desires could go. He was finally exercising his top kink in its truest form. It seemed obvious that he'd be afraid he might consume you.

It reminded you of an old line from your first date about a bear. It struck you how you had long become equally as voracious as him and you channeled that ferocity. The surge of both your body and emotion knocked him back a step. Drunk off the power to ruffle the master, you pursued him as much as he would allow. He soon got his feet stabilized which meant you were a tiny powerhouse against the pylon of his body. His form held steady, allowing you whatever wanton destruction you craved that wasn’t his person.

It came in the form of his clothes which you twisted up and pulled at. He bent for you, coming down enough so you could yank his top off and knocked his glasses in the process. He chuckled at your need, but gave no recompense. It left you as the one-sided onslaught and you pantsed him in retaliation.

When you came up from shoving his waistband down, he only had an arched brow that sarcastically challenged your childish move.

You tittered at the sight, playing it off. “Here? Couch? Bed…?”

He looked over each spot as if he had all the time in the world.

His bond barely concealed how much his emotion begged to differ.

You put out a sort of sigh and trended to his right.

“I’ve been bombarded with info lately…” You mourned and slid a forlorn hand across his wraps. “Intro to baby making.”

He watched you circle him.

You made sure to keep a teasing digit on him at all times. “A long winded separation ig facts and old wives tales…”

You appeared on his other side and he continued to track you.

“No sex position increases odds, but deep penetration is good. Whatever gets the sperm closest to the cervix…” You stopped at his front and sighed again.

You saw his fingers twitch as he withheld himself.

“Hard to push you into missionary if you aren’t going to help…” You kept your eyes to his plastron and followed scute lines with your fingertips.

You felt his head move as he tried to view your path.

You caught him with his neck bent forward as you snapped your attention up. “You really want to finally knock me up with me on top?”

You watched his pupils adjust to the prospect.

There was the language.

You told him that he was going to participate regardless.

There was the insinuation.

As it had all day, today was the day it was finally teetering on dangerous to fuck.

There was the challenge.

Was he going to be passive?

In one fluid motion, he dropped his center of gravity.

Excitement exploded in your belly and his elbows snapped akimbo. They led as his hands slid up into your shirt in a perfect slide. Smooth prints teased your spine and had you arching as he got to your bra. It took a single trace to the clasp and he barely had to flick to undo it. It was then, with a lift, that your entire upper ensemble was headed upward. You scrambled to lift your arms and just barely saved your chin from catching the fabric.

He hovered over you like a dance and your spine wilted dangerously from how much real estate he commanded. He beamed you a million watt smile before you heard the fabric plop onto the floor. The textures struck you and his arms came down to press into the curve of your back. He kept you safely dipped like a dancer there with one hand while the other danced around your front. It felt over your belly before a single digit found interest in your fly.

It worked expertly with a twist and flick until he was able to undo your trousers. They slacked open in the fold and he skimmed with that single hand around your waistband as if testing its tensile strength. The backs of your thighs burned from the weight distribution and your neck ached from having to hold up against gravity. Donnie only surveyed the curve of your body with faint flicks of his gaze as he instead focused on circling your hips.

With a sudden hook of his thumb, he levied half your bottoms and shoved down. The other side clung and it took a clean swipe from the opposite direction to catch them. He moved in a seesaw that had his thumb nail skimming more sensitive skin as he rocked your pants and underwear down. By the time they fell, your legs were threatening to do the same and only then did he scoop you up.

It was into his arms and you kicked out socked feet in glee as he carried you to bed. He perched you on the edge and the titillation pumped through your veins as he squatted in front of you. It sent you right back to imagery of your first night together and your inner muscles clenched onto that excitement.

“You are well aware of what we are about to get into.”

You nodded.

“Are you ready?”

“Very much so.”

“Show me, love.”

You gathered your knees and adjusted your positions. Already perched, you moved your pelvis forward as your shoulders came back. Your arms compensated for yet another lean, though this one was cushioned by a mattress. It read comfortable as your hands fisted the sheets and you split your legs to present for him.

He took you in with all his senses. It first came with the visual sight even though you could tell you were far from glistening. Excitement had only taken you so far, but he was completely enamored by your sex. He surveyed you with his exploding pupils before he reached, compelled. His warm finger skirted your outer lips and he pressed to see how engorged they were with blood. Arousal meant there was a heated layer and the cooler air of the room lapped at you in time with the way he licked his lips.

You rolled your hips eager and he lowered his head for his next sense. It was smell, and you’d grown accustomed to his scenting. He’d been sniffing you shamelessly in his daily examinations and it always looked to you like a master sommelier. His lips would part, letting the scent inhale deeply through his nostrils and cascade down his tongue. You imagined he picked up all sorts of notes that you couldn’t as he trended closer.

He breathed out then in and it was with one last striking whiff that nosed lightly at your clit. The tip of his beak invaded you for touch and your voice pitched behind warbled lips. He flicked a scolding glance up at you for trying to muffle your noises and when your mouth opened it was to breathily pant. He found that suitable and returned to his nosing. He was scenting, you could tell, but there was no snuffle. It was a slow and even thing meant to relish and, even though you couldn’t see him, you felt the moisture differently when his jaw parted.

You arched in time and met his tongue. A dainty tip, he mapped your folds first as if he didn’t already know your anatomy down to the cellular level. He gave a base level tasting lap and you whined at the lack of targeting. You watched his eyes surface in a rolling fashion and you frowned when you caught sight of him. He smiled against your cunt before pressing into your heat with his eyes still questioning you.

You mewled for him and it seemed like a satisfactory answer because he dove in. You puffed open relief as he licked into you with the accuracy you craved. He long knew exactly how to manipulate you on his tongue and you tossed your head back to give yourself over to him.

You jolted when he suddenly grabbed your feet.

In a tug, he used your surprise to throw you off balance and you fell onto your back. The bed was completely forgiving and you stared up at the canopy for exactly one second before his tongue shifted. He latched onto your clit in your toe tingling way and you barely cared he was still doing something to your feet. You imagined he was operating comical heavy machinery where the levers were your limbs because of the jarring push and pull of his movements.

His things swiped down and he hit some sort of pressure point in both your arches that ripped a moan from you. He slicked downward, dragging your growing wet on his tongue to taste and stimulate you. You squirmed, trying to get more, but he pushed your knees to fold. Your legs came, bent at the knee, and he shifted his weight to pour more over you. It pressed your thighs closer to your torso and you recognized the move even though it had been a long time since he last exercised it.

The mating press.

You chirped wanton for him at the thought and he churred straight into your sex at your revelation. You gave your mating call in aching need, but he demanded a bit more of you. It came with a swirling of his mouth and just enough suction that you could feel your insides weeping. The drip caused an audible pop when he unlatched that you could only hear as the final sense, sound, and he panted from what you imagined was a full assault of his senses. He then appeared, moving to stand in a growing form with your combined soaks painting his chin.

The moment he hit his full height was the same time you saw the bob of his cock. It bounced with him and hung a flag over your sex. You heaved a single time at the sight of it and were struck with one single thought:

This was going to get you pregnant.

A mating call warped off your lips before another slammed it out of the way. You couldn’t stop yourself as it sounded again and again on what hit your ears as a nagging repeat. The pitch was off and feral like a cat in heat. You ached for him, head lifting in the process and he only stared at your wanting form.

“D-Donnie…!” You finally managed amongst his seeming neglect. “P-please!”

He nodded and swept over you in what felt like a final moment.

Like you’d never be like this again.

Like something monumental was about to shift.

He then lowered enough to scoop up under your ass and scoot you forward. It made room for his knees and you continued to call out to him. He shushed you with a sharp mating response of his own and you bit down on your lip to try to stave off more. He was taking too long in his adjustments, but you knew there was purpose. You knew first hand how precarious the position could be. Your body was fully trapped beneath his while also being folded. It contracted and compressed your very being, but also made it so his pelvis could be aimed above yours. It also meant you had a full view of how his cock dangled down, scorched and ready to sear you.

Your vision honed in on the glisten of his member and trailed down where his tip pearled a perfect bead of pre.

Another mating call wormed up your throat which was decimated into a squeak as he pressed his glans to you. The heat felt like a boiling threat and you waited for him to plunge. Instead he continued to cater to his alignment before he rolled his hips so his cock ran against you. On your back and neck twisted in a position to view him, you saw his glans face you before they rolled backwards in their stroke. The oar of them flared there, returned once again, and then disappeared to catch your hole.

You wanted to sob at the torturous pace, but he so close.

“Please!” You shouted in spite of yourself.

He didn’t respond at all and only focused on a testing press.

It wasn’t enough to breach you and you groaned as loud as you could.

He chirped lightly, something faint and weary that you couldn't think much on before he wound upwards once and then descended.

Your eyes flew open and you watched as each delicious centimeter of him sank into your cunt. There was a pulse to your lips that marked the spread and soak as they peeled apart to grant him entry. He disappeared further, feeding into you and beading up your discharge. It cropped a creamy spill that pressed out at his size and clung around your entrance waiting for further use. His member widened, spreading toward the base of the knot and you saw the stretch of your lips grow taut.

He was then fully sheathed after what felt like hours and your head fell back. You panted lightly, all a mental exertion and felt sweat dot your brow. You were rushing, you knew. It was the incessant need and the many years built up to this moment. As he held in place, you saw all the rushing times you’d tried to devour each other. This wasn’t that and spoke to something far deeper. It roused you to be more present and you found him trying to look at your connection. His proportions meant he couldn’t and he lifted his head with the intent of a question pouring off him.

He wanted to know what it was like and you told him that it was quite the view. He churred a vibration that you felt dip inside you. You willed him to know that more would be better and he agreed to pull back the slightest amount. Your cunt clung to him, eager lips dragging against his length and each and every vein in an attempt to keep him. He barely made it a few inches before he plunged back in as if he couldn’t stand the cold room temperature. You chuckled at the thought of that sort of cockwarming and he probed your depths in interest at your laugh.

You almost responded until his ministrations found what he was looking for.

You then only gasped in pleasure and the cage of his body finally fell. He met you in a scoop of limbs and you pulled him closer. Your hips cried at the weight, but he rocked in a gentle massaging gesture. It eased the tension and his lips found yours with a roll of his tongue. He tasted and smelled like you.  Intoxication clouded your mind and you now, finally this moment, would be the time he'd give way to fuck you.

You broke your lip lock to pepper excitement across his face. He scrubbed into it, his beak moving side to side to catch all your little pecks. He tittered in a melodic chirp and joy caused your cunt to pulse. It warped a sound of almost paint off his lips and he melded your pelvises into a single shape as if to squash it.

“Not gonna last…” He whined suddenly.

“That’s…” You spoke before you fully understood his words.

How was that possible? 

He hadn't thrusted even once. 

He held deathly still and you moved your neck to view him.

Humiliation painted his feature and he would have tucked himself away if he could.

Sense exploded past your horny thoughts for the first time. 

He had showed all the signs. 

That's why he'd been anxious at the door. 

That's why he hadn't rushed to fuck you. 

That’s why he had been going so slow.

It wasn’t just to mark the occasion. 

It wasn't because he feared his ferality.

It was a startling amount of awareness that threatened him.

As much as you did, he knew what today was and what it meant. 

It made him so consciously excited that it went straight to his head.

He had been trying to stave off losing himself in a totally new way. 

An excited noise hummed in your throat.

He saw your glee and wilted against it.

“N-no!” You nudged him with your nose. “That’s good!”

“No.” He bit back.

“Yes.” You disagreed and extracted an arm from the tangle.

You found his cheek and he soured as there was an inherent movement that bobbed his cock.

“I can count the amount of times you’ve gotten close to cumming before me on one hand.”

He glared at you as if you’d pointed out his greatest failures.

You lightly pinched his cheek. “You’re so excited...”

He frowned deeply.

You kissed his relenting face. “I love you.”

“Please.”

“I do.” You pressed.

“Y/N.”

“How do my orgasmd work with conception again? I can't remember…” You absolutely did, but your partner was being too cute not to tease.

He ducked his head as much as he could.

You were too close for him to hide. “Donnie…?”

He grumbled something.

“What was that…?” You poked his cheek.

“It doesn’t…” He ground out.

“Then what’s the problem? I know you'll make me cum right after you do. Doesn’t it sound hot to pump your finger into me, push the cum deeper, until I’m writhing on it?”

He relented the smallest bit.

“I'm married to Donatello. Cumming is always a guarantee. It's like your customer satisfaction brand.”

“I wanted us together.”

“We can try… Has waiting helped?”

His grimace said not at all.

You moved your hips the slightest amount and the way his dropped to keep you still meant you felt exactly how he clenched to keep from cumming then and there.

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely cumming first.” You smiled.

His eyes closed, hopeless.

“You’re being a grump.” You kissed his cheek.

He let more of his body weight fall onto you in some sort of retribution, but you could only giggle.

“Come on…” You channeled as much energy as you could muster in your ass before you managed to flex.

Your innermost walls shifted around him and he gave a long sultry groan.

“That’s it…” You managed the same spasm with less effort.

He moaned your name.

“My sweet, sweet husband…” You encouraged, pulsing around him over and over.

“I’m going to…!” He panted.

“Go on. Fertilize me. I'm waiting.” You whispered against his head.

He exhaled sharply and you felt all of him twitch in one sharp movement. Where you hadn’t followed the trend of his spread or knot, they both seemed to inflate to their widest mass in a snap instant as he came. You felt each twitch of him as you weren’t in your throes. You pet his head before stroking  lower on his carapace to encourage him. You hit a spot that made him buck as he filled you deep.

He eventually breathed again, panting from having witheld, and rolled his head to the side to bump yours.

You rubbed his shell with a heavy hand.

He eventually churred at the feeling and lifted up to appraise you.

You smiled, ever ready for him.

His lids fell in a form of annoyance.

“I’m gonna make you cum until you beg me to stop.”

You pitched an excited noise as he yanked out of you. You felt his essence chase his cock and your limbs were released. You clenched immediately, trying to hold his seed in and he glimpsed the tightening of your sex as he climbed off the bed. 

His lips rounded and you saw focus slip from his gaze. You chose then to relax and the rebound flex of your walls squished out his spent. A tiny amount trickled against your labia and you heard Donnie gasp at the sight.

“Finally, right…?” You mused and assumed you were thinking the same thing.

You were finally stuffed with a potent load.

That chance of getting pregnant now existed.

You were both aiming to make it assured.

Donnie lurched forward and you readied yourself for his decree. He would make you cum. You imagined he would play out that scenario you had offered earlier and felt his cum drip to the swell of your ass.

That's where he would start, you thought. He would swipe it up expertly with those thick fingers of his and stuff the seminal fluid or whatever he had called it, back inside. He would then tease you until you were writhing.  

A tongue hit hot and wet against your ass cheek causing you to cry out your surprise. Your thighs were grabbed first before giving hands tucked under your body. He hoisted you up to meet his mouth as if there wasn't enough time for him to dip any lower.

Donnie swiped the trail of cum up and licked it straight back into you. His arms locked heavy around your body just in time for him to bury his snout hard into your sex, he breathed heavy desperation as his canines grazed your labia. Your voice hit a near painful pinch and you fought against the onslaught with grabbing hands.

You caught his mask in the fumble and pulled it so the back half lifted and the front blocked his vision. “What are you doing?!”

He sucked hard and you spasmed.

“Ah! Donnie-!” You meant to say more, but he let one of your legs drop to his shoulder so his thumb could strike your clit.

It was flint to steel, the sparks ignited and you cried his name in a new tone. It was no longer a question, but a burning desire. He slurped down noisily and the noise hit your ears to stoke. You were inflamed, rising up further than he was holding you as pressure dipped in and outward in tandem. His thumb swirled loose and comfortable against the slick and he routinely bumped his own nose.

His tongue traveled deep, seeking further in you than ever before and it marked a widening of his jaw. You felt the whole of his mouth encompass you until it pushed even his hand away. His teeth scraped over your punished clit and you screamed out as it sent you over.

It burned you to a white host crisp and the flames engulfed your vision. He pressed forth, seeking to destroy what was already ash on the ground. With one leg still over his shoulder, you snapped a heel down hard in hopes of stopping the siege. Your foot snagged one of his carapace injuries and scrape was enough for him to grunt free.

Knowing he'd lock back on, you bucked hard in your freedom and pelvic thrusted into his beak. It loosened his grip and you slid back to the bed. He held your single leg to his chest as a lifeline while you scrambled to slip your hands into your abused cunt. You did a quick check for blood as his teeth had been piercing. As far as you could tell it was clear from injury, but you glowered up at your mate.

“What was that!? You ate it?!”

He was the portrait of a captured criminal.

His mask was also still comically out of place and you tore it off him to wipe your hands. “What happened?”

He gave a pitiful chirp.

You swatted him with the wetted cloth.

He squirmed in a way that said its feeling repulsed him.

“Donatello!”

“As you’d expect!” He finally animated. “That I finally had a chance! That what was leaking from you had potential!”

“So you suck the potential out of me?!”

“The sperm is unaffected! You referenced the science prior!”

Your eyes flashed. “And I know it! Are you still mad because I didn’t listen one time?!”

“You act as though I insinuated such!”  

“Didn’t you?!” You stared him down ready to catch the slightest warp in his expression.

He matched you.

You stood off against each other for several seconds before you deferred.

You then both sat in an awkward heap where you were still spread and he was only half on the bed.

Donnie was the first to move.

“May I?” He asked with lowered lids.

You nodded, granting his request, whatever it was.

He was slow in skimming over you and making his journey known. He moved toward the apex between your legs and you presented for him. He took your willingness in with an emotionally wounded gaze that said he didn’t believe he deserved the kindness. You kneed his chin gently as soon as he was within range. 

“It's okay…” 

He wasn't as sure yet and only kissed the cap before shimmying downward until he was on his knees off the bed. He leaned forward, his face to your sex, and you felt him looking you over.

You knew he was checking for injury just as you had and he affirmed your health with a kiss to your clit. The sensitive bud felt tender, but his warmth came away like a balm. You exhaled slow and steady until he reappeared at your side. You squirmed further up the bed and he laid down beside you. You immediately glued yourself to him, cuddling close and leaning up for a kiss. He appraised you once before meeting you and it took several until he relaxed.

“Does that consumption offend you as well?”

You chuckled against him. “No, it just felt a little like a slight. Like you just filled me and you took it right away.”

He eyed you and you could feel his scientific correction was looming.

You pushed his plastron. “You know what I’m saying.”

His eyes closed and he shrugged as he did.

“It wasn't what I was expecting, but it wasn't bad. You surprised me.” You held your hand firm to his pectoral scute and flexed your fingers out. “As usual…” 

His body went a certain slack.

“We done for tonight…?”

He didn’t move as far as you could tell.

“It’s alright if so… I know that whole ‘make me cum until I beg’ line was you trying to make up for cumming too fast.”

His lip twitched.

“It’s really okay. You lost two kinds of control. That's gotta be overstimulating. I just want to set my expectations.”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You pressed him.

“Look down.”

Your gaze plummeted southward on contact. 

All that was there was the mattress and your forearm resting atop sheets where it acted as a bridge between your bodies.

You heard a puff of laughter.

Your gaze shot right back up to see him trying to control giggles.

“I did what you said! Why are you-?!”

He couldn’t manage words and joy crinkled his gaze. 

He bobbed and bubbled until he got enough control to flick his pupils down the length of his body. You made a little irritated sound and embarrassment tried to form a complaint on your lips.

He had to cover his mouth. “My mistake. Please look easterly.”

You glowered at him once before glaring in that direction which led down his plastron.

It was the landing strip leading to his pointed purple member. His cock stood at full mass and its pink base had a redder tint than usual. That was typically a shade you only saw during his heat when his member wasn't able to return to the safety of his body. It was nowhere near Donnie’s season which meant instead his erection had persisted. 

The reason for which shot straight to your core. “O-Oh…!”

“It hasn’t gone down since we began…” He managed with a weary tone.

“But you came…?” You reached for his cock and it twitched away once before you made contact.

“As you stated, I am entirely too excited…”

You soothed his glans with a stroke.

They undulated under your grip, starving.

“So…?” That latent heat glowed in your cheeks, still smoldering.

“I can't predict when it'll go down.”

“Will you cum just as fast?” You felt excitement manifest as stars in your eyes.

His expression flattened out a bit. 

“I want you to.” You tinged your words with those ever present embers. “Cum again and again. I want to wring you dry. We’ll go until it calms down.”

He flushed at how eager you were.

“Just promise I can keep it this time.” You pleaded.

“So you do find cum eating offensive.” His attempt at distracting you from his unease was too obvious. 

You shoved him over onto his carapace and mounted him before he could protest.

“Wait-!” He tried to grab your hips.

“Nope. My terms now. You will-” You commanded, got yourself lined up, and sank down his length. “-cum.”

You felt his cock explode on contact with your heat.

“Oh fuck…!” You ground down on his ejaculate.

Donnie whined something high pitched before his throat eked out, “Sworn! No stopping! You call out tomorrow!”

You squealed happily as he rolled your conjoined bodies over to finally fuck you in earnest.

-

You were slow in opening the bathroom door.

It had been hard enough to muster up the energy for you to grab the handle.

Now that you had swiveled it and the mechanism had pulled the bolt back, it felt like painful irony.

One door led to another.

You saw the creak of space that led to your bedroom and with it came the heavy heart.

This was the transition point.

You stepped forward and felt the cotton between your legs.

It was another tangible omen.

It would disappear in time, but for now you were hyperaware.

The aptly named period product marked an end and was sopping up your failure.

One dark red drip at a time.

You walked out to where Donnie was already standing.

You’d left him sitting on the couch.

What had found him first?

The scent or your abysmal feelings through your wedding band?

You didn’t care because either way he knew and as your foot lifted for the next step, he was meeting it with his.

You reached one another, but didn’t connect.

You had to address it.

You stared down at your three feet and one prosthetic.

“Could it… be the implantation bleed?” You whispered as quietly as you could.

It would rob the words of their strength.

Without power, maybe you could convince them otherwise.

You could manifest them into the outcome you wanted and not the one that wasted seven days of trying.

Eighteen days since Donnie had made the calendar.

Twenty-seven days since your new menstrual cycle started.   

Except today it reset to one.

“There… is… a chance…?” Donnie tried, his voice as soft as yours.

You both met each other’s eyes in time.

You knew the truth then.

You hadn't gotten pregnant this cycle. 

These were only words.

It was the same as before.

Nothing had changed.

Not yet. 

1.73%.

💜 NEXT 💜

My body aches today, but my heart always aches with thanks for my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[squarebracket-trickster]

Sorry guys, rant incoming. I considered deleting this but I put too much effort in.

"girlboss" "girl dinner" "girl math" "boy math" "gen z are making fun of us for wearing x" "here's how to dress like gen z:" "girlies" "girl's night" "boy's night" "me and the boys" "90s kid"

"I don't feel like an adult" "I'm 34 and I can tell you, I still don't feel like an adult either." "My parents seemed like real adults when they were my age." "I still feel like a teenager."

Maybe you'd feel more like an adult if you started calling yourself one. Maybe you'd feel more like an adult if you stopped trying to dress like a teenager. Maybe you should move your bed out from the wall and get a wallet. Maybe find a calendar app that works for you.

You are an adult. Even if you live with your parents. Even if you do part-time shift work at minimum wage. Even if you haven't graduated college. Even if you are single. These are adult things to do. Because you are doing them. And you are an adult. Start treating yourself like an adult. Fake it 'till you make it if you have to.

In other, writing-related, news:

That trend on TikTok of 20-40 something women authors (and writers yet to be published) promoting their books like,

"Omg! I can't believe I've sold X number of copies!! I never thought I would!" "Ahhhh imagine publishing your book and all your dreams come true and now you get to meet famous authors and work with big names in the industry!!" "Would you read a book where [proceeds to list a bunch of oversaturated tropes that tell me nothing about the actual plot]?"

It reeks of infantilization. If you didn't believe anyone would want to read your book, why should I? You made it on the NYT bestseller list! Stop acting like a mega-fan who got to meet a celebrity. You are their peer! "Would you read a book--" What if I wouldn't? Why does it matter to you what I think of your book? And for the love of god stop hiding behind tropes you know are already popular. "Here is my book: This is what it is about." Have some goddamn confidence.

It is fine to mention in passing "this idea was really far-fetched so I didn't know if it would appeal" or "I was struggling with self-esteem when I wrote this". It's fine to fan a little bit. It's fine to discuss the tropes in your book. But why are you building your brand as an author off of your inferiority complex? You are using your poor self-esteem as a marketing tactic to seem "humble" and "relatable" but it's coming across as unprofessional and desperate for reassurance. You are an adult. You are competent. The more you act like it the more you will believe it.

And of course, I haven't seen a man promote his book this way...

On another note, do any of the 20-40 something women writers who do "write with me" videos on TikTok actually enjoy writing or are they just doing it for the aesthetic?

They all have gorgeous minimalism writing spaces full of white and pink and a macbook beneath a window. Their makeup is done and they are conventionally pretty to start with. But their entire video is just them talking about how little progress they made, how many pages they deleted, how often they got distracted, how frustrated they are. And like, yeah. We all have those days. But what about the good lines you can't wait to share? The days when the words just flow? The cool stuff you learned while researching? Why don't you ever make videos about that?

Is this some other attempt to seem "relatable" by only talking about the "bad" side of writing? Because again, it's coming across as lacking confidence at best and, at worst, that you don't actually know how to write. And that is not the brand you want as an author.

Again, its always women. Why must women market their self-esteem issues in order to sell their art? Why must we be perpetually awestruck children (girlies, book girls) in over our heads?

[corrodedbisexual]

One Year

AO3 link

It's March 27th, 1987. And it's been one year. One year since Steve carried Eddie out of the Upside Down. Steddie | T | light angst + tooth-rotting fluff My two cents into the whole Death Day trend because… nope. Canon? I don't know her.

Eddie finds Steve in the kitchen that morning, staring at the calendar on the wall. He seems lost in thought, doesn't hear Eddie come in, even jumps a little when Eddie approaches and wraps his arms around his waist, but immediately relaxes the next moment, melting back against his chest. 

"Morning, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs in his boyfriend's ear, presses a soft kiss to the side of his neck, the spot he knows is just sensitive enough for Steve to let out a quiet chuckle, but not so much as to squirm away. "Penny for your thoughts?" He asks, leaning over Steve's shoulder so he can meet his eyes when Steve turns his head towards him. There's something unreadable in his gaze, a heaviness Eddie hasn't seen in a while. 

"You know what today is?" Steve asks, and Eddie follows his gaze when he looks back at the calendar.

"Oh." Of course, he recognizes the date. How could he not. "Shit."

"Yeah." Steve rests his own arms over Eddie's around his waist, squeezes gently with his fingers, rubs a thumb against his skin. He's quiet for a long moment, before adding, his voice strained, "You almost died. A year ago today."

"Hey. Hey, no no no, fuck that, Stevie." Eddie tugs on Steve's elbow to turn him around in his arms, presses into him so close there's not a hair of space between them. Drops his head to Steve's shoulder and just breathes for a moment, breathes in the scent that's become comfort and love and home to him. Tries to compose himself, because one of them has to, because there's no way they are both breaking down over this and end up crying together on the kitchen floor. 

Been there, done that. Not today.

So when he lifts his head again to look at Steve, it's with the biggest grin he could muster, and maybe Steve can tell he's faking it, but that's not the point. 

"Fuck that ”, he repeats, more forcefully. “You know what today really is? Practically, my second birthday. I got a second chance at life." He captures Steve's lips in a soft, brief kiss, and maybe his grin isn't so fake anymore when he pulls back to add, "A better one, too."

"Better? You can't be serious." Steve frowns, eyes darting downwards. Eddie feels his fingers running along his side. Tracing the exact shape of that biggest, angriest scar through the T-shirt. He knows its shape by heart, Eddie realizes. Fuck, he loves this man.

"Oh, absolutely." He tilts his head back so he can see Steve's face properly without going cross-eyed. "If that means I got the love of my life for all my troubles? I wouldn't have done anything different, if given the chance."

Steve glances away, biting his lip, cheeks tinted pink, and Eddie absolutely revels in it, amazed at how he can keep telling Steve he loves him every damn day, and still sometimes get the same reaction out of it as the first time he confessed. 

"You know you didn't actually have to get nearly eaten by demobats to get a chance with me, right?" Steve lifts a hand to push a strand of hair back behind Eddie's ear, cups his jaw gently. Right over another scar, usually covered by his hair. "I was half gone on you anyway, you damn flirt." 

"You don't know that." Eddie shakes his head, more serious now, because he needs Steve to understand. "What if the bats got Dustin instead? Can you seriously tell me you, not the you right now, but the you from a year ago, wouldn't have resented me for not protecting him back then?"

Steve falls silent for a long moment, then sighs. "You're right. I don't know," he admits. 

Eddie nods. "Exactly." He's glad that Steve doesn't try to lie about this. With all the jokes about them co-parenting the kid, Eddie knows how even actual, lifelong marriages fall apart after the death of a child. The bitter truth is, if something happened to Dustin that night, any chance at what him and Steve didn't themselves even know was blooming between them back then would have been gone in an instant. A fact Eddie needed Steve to acknowledge; but he doesn't want to dwell on this any longer.

"Actually." He smiles, lifting Steve's chin with his fingers to meet his eyes again. "Considering today is when we first kissed, maybe we should make it our unofficial anniversary."

Steve rolls his eyes. "I didn't kiss you, I gave you CPR, dumbass."

Eddie gasps dramatically. "How is that less romantic? You literally breathed life back into me, baby." 

"You're an idiot," Steve shakes his head, but he's finally smiling, full and bright, eyes shining, and that eggs Eddie on.

"You could almost say... I took your breath away?"

“Oh my god,” Steve drops his head briefly, and Eddie can see his shoulders shake with silent laughter. “Stop.” He halfheartedly pokes Eddie in the ribs. 

“And you made my heart beat faster.”

“Like, from actually zero to barely normal?!” Steve squawks, poking him harder, repeatedly, forcing Eddie to finally wriggle away, giggling.

But he lingers close, and the next moment Steve is in his space again, big, warm hands bracketing his head, pulling him in and kissing him, hard, pushing forward so intently Eddie has to back up against the kitchen counter. Eddie just lets him take, and bite, and suck on his lips until the sudden desperation slowly eases into his usual gentleness, one hand sliding down to rest at Eddie’s hip, thumb slipping under his shirt to rub tiny circles into his skin. 

Steve can laugh at him all he wants; in the end, every kiss of his is a little bit like CPR, because Eddie never feels more alive than when Steve’s lips are on his. He wonders if there’ll ever be a time when Steve’s mouth won’t make his knees wobble within mere minutes, his skin tingle and his brain turn into mush. Forget stomach butterflies; his whole body is a swarm of buzzing bees. 

They finally part to breathe, but Steve doesn’t pull away immediately; he never does, and it’s almost Eddie’s favorite part every single time, the way Steve seems to struggle with ending the kiss, instead placing soft pecks onto Eddie’s lips between shared breaths, rubbing their noses together with a lazy, sated grin, eventually resting their foreheads together for a few moments. 

“What was that for?” Eddie asks, when the power to speak, and think somewhat coherently, finally returns to him. 

Steve smiles at him. “I love you.” Another soft kiss against his chin. “I’m glad you’re alive.” Another, to the scar on his jaw. Then, the smile widens as he meets Eddie’s eyes. “Happy second birthday? Sorry I didn’t get you a cake.”

Eddie laughs, happiness bubbling inside him with every word.

“That’s cool. I didn’t get you anything for our unofficial anniversary, either.” He tilts his head, thinking. “But I do want that cake now, actually. Grocery run?”

Steve chuckles and shrugs. “Yeah, why the hell not. Should I radio Dustin?”

"Duh," Eddie snorts. "If the brat finds out we had cake without him? We might have survived demobats, but that will be the end of us both."

"Agreed," Steve says. "Let me just finish my coffee and we’ll go."

Eddie whoops with joy, smacks a loud, wet kiss on Steve's cheek that he knows Steve's not gonna wipe away, and skips towards the stairs to get changed. It can't be denied that this day, a year ago, was probably the worst day of his life. But he’s alive. All his friends are alive. He has an actual boyfriend who loves him, what the fuck. And there’s no guarantee tonight one of them won’t wake up in cold sweat from another nightmare, but for now? Today is going to be awesome.

[abeautylives]

Trip Around the Sun - The Epilogue

a/n: If you’ve made it this far, THANK YOU! I really loved writing this little miniseries so if it made its way to you and you enjoyed it, thank you thank you thank you.

Series Masterlist

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 3k this part

summary: A vacation fling that ended in heartbreak. How far will you go to put the pieces back together?

warnings: Absolutely none other than some language

Six Months Later

I do not need this shit today.

Your boss has been riding your ass particularly hard this week, but today it’s taken the form of email after email, requests for quarterly reports, calendar invites to meetings you won’t even get to speak during. Why did she wait until Friday to lay all this shit on you? The incessant ding from your computer with each incoming notification is giving you a migraine. You let your eyes drop to the bottom right corner of your screen.

11:47am. Fuck it.

You clock out for your lunch break unannounced, grab your bag and your phone and make your way toward the elevator. No one so much as raises their head in notice of you, but you avoid their eyes over the walls of their cubicles anyway.

The midsummer heat envelops you as soon as you step out onto the sidewalk, a welcome change from the frigid conditioned air inside the office building, your headache easing up instantly. Bypassing a Starbucks on the way, you pop into your preferred coffee bar, a cozy local spot with better drinks and far superior food. From behind the counter, the barista greets you by name and asks if you’re having your usual, but you turn down the hot drink in favor of something iced.

The second the heavily caffeinated liquid hits your tongue, you can feel the remnants of your headache melting away. You find a lone seat outside on their shaded patio, sipping your drink as you pull out your phone to scroll mindlessly for the next forty-five minutes.

You’re doing exactly that, flipping your thumb over the screen as your For You page flashes past, pausing occasionally to watch a video in its entirety. Every five or six videos or so, the same song starts to play, something that’s trending but that you don’t recognize, so you flip past it. Over, and over, and over again until you realize you’ve heard it nearly ten times.

Your thumb moving now of its own volition, you swipe another video away as that same song starts. This time, you bring it back to you with a downward pull.

The screen is split, your eyes first drawn to the person on the left who’s definitely wearing a ridiculous wig and mouthing along to the words of the song, an acoustic guitar strumming the tune that’s vaguely familiar to you now that you’ve heard its beginnings so many times. You let your focus slip to the right, the video that the creator is clearly imitating, and your phone slides from your fingers. It hits the edge of the bistro table and bounces, landing face up on the ground at your feet, the song still playing as the video runs on a loop.

There’s no fucking way.

You scramble to scoop your phone from the bricks, the screen undamaged and his face on full display.

His face.

It looks different than the face in your memory, younger maybe, softer at the edges that you remember being sharp, defined. Maybe it’s the lack of facial hair.

The video plays on and you can’t stop watching it, again and again, eyes focusing on a different part of him with every loop. The way his plump lips move over those obscenely perfect teeth, the way his eyes sparkle as he lifts them though you can’t see the exact shade of his irises, the way his curls look almost exactly as you remember them, despite the ways he’d changed. The way he drops his head and his jaw flexes, that is very familiar to you.

Josh.

What the fuck is this?

You’d been so stunned at the sight of him that nothing else had truly registered, but now your eyes are bouncing around the screen. He’s singing. Is he a singer? What the hell is he wearing?

What is this?

Greta Van Fleet. The words tumble over themselves in your mind as if they're in a language unknown to you. The tags on the video capture your attention.

#gretavanfleet #gvf #snl

Saturday Night Live? You’re about to dive into a Google search when you catch the time at the top corner of your screen. Shit.

Coffee in hand, you speed walk back to your office building, eyes still trained on your phone’s screen. It’s a miracle that you haven’t tripped or mowed someone over as you’re stuck scrolling, your first entry into the search bar being what you assume is a band name.

Rock band from Michigan

Kiszka brothers, twins Josh and Jake

Kiszka. Josh Kiszka.

He’s fucking famous.

The rest of your work day passes in a blur of emails and reports, your focus effectively obliterated by what you’ve discovered. You actively have to resist searching for him on your company computer, your fingertips itching to type in his name, so you settle for putting in your AirPods and pulling up their discography on Spotify.

Unfortunately, the sound of his voice, nothing like the voice that spoke so many beautiful words against your skin, sucks the air from your lungs until you feel like you might actually have a panic attack. You wrench the AirPods from your ears and throw them back into your bag.

Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

The door of your apartment slams behind you, your bag and keys tossed to the ancient hardwood and heels kicked aside within seconds. You can’t be bothered to change out of your clothes, tossing your blazer aside as you enter your bedroom and hiking your pencil skirt up over your thighs as you sit cross legged in your bed, laptop already pulled to rest in front of you.

His name is typed into your browser as soon as you flip it open, and within seconds you learn more about him than you did in all the hours spent together. His birthdate, his hometown, his middle fucking name. This almost feels invasive, like you’re suddenly privy to information that should be secret, yet here it is for all the world to see. You open the Images tab and hold back a sob, a hand flying over your mouth to capture it.

Before today, you’ve never seen a picture of him. There’s a barrage of them on your screen, ranging from what must be a few years old to what you assume are current, his appearance so similar to that of your memories. Clicking on one to enlarge it, your fingertips leave your lips and trace over the image of his. You feel a hot tear slip free and roll down your cheek.

You’d love to say you had boarded that plane and simply accepted the fact that your time together was just that, limited and perfect in its brevity, a sweet escape from reality that was never meant to exist beyond the confines of a tropical resort. But that would be a lie.

Instead, you’d returned home a broken woman, bereft in the loss of him. It wasn’t logical, your heartbreak, but that fact hadn’t helped it heal. As you look at him now, through a watery veil of tears that won’t stop coming, you realize that time has done nothing to lessen the hurt.

Unable to stop yourself, you let your eyes move over the screen, taking in every version of his sweet face. Some pictures look like they’re from the same period of time as the footage from the TikTok, his stage outfits much more flamboyant and form-fitting than the plain white t-shirt or tank he’d adorned every day that you knew him. Knew him. That’s a joke. You didn’t know him at all.

But you had wanted to.

You switch back to the Google search results. As you scroll down the page, you avoid clicking links to videos that look like interviews, the thought of hearing him speak is overwhelming in the worst way, but something else grabs your attention.

His Instagram.

Your laptop abandoned, you open the app on your phone and search for his username, your finger hovers over the top result before you suck in a breath and tap it.

More pictures, a carefully curated collection of images made up almost solely of him. You open the most recent and feel heat blossom over your cheeks. It’s just him, you’re growing used to the sight of his face already, but he’s in profile and his curls are pulled back and tucked beneath that cap. The same one he’d been wearing when you met him by the pool. It’s so nearly exactly how he looked the first time you saw him up close that you have to move past it before you crumble completely.

His captions are sometimes poetic, as you had learned he could be, and now it all makes perfect sense. He’s an artist, a lyricist, he is a poet.

Here you are again, scrolling, growing numb to the digital portrayal of his face as you take in each one, watching him age in reverse as you reach the very last post on his account. When you make it there, you click on his username and it opens back at the top. You stare hard at the options before you.

Follow

Message

There’s no way it could be that easy… right?

The next days pass slowly, dragged out by the dwindling hope that the message you had managed to type out with shaky fingers somewhere around midnight that first night, will be read.

Days turn into weeks, your work performance suffering as the hole he’d left in your heart only seems to grow. You check Instagram almost obsessively but that little note never appears to indicate that he’s even seen your message. You lose yourself to it a little bit, the fixation, the need, he feels so close and somehow farther away than he’s ever been. It sometimes feels worse than not knowing anything about him at all.

In a dark moment of tequila-fueled weakness, you send another message. And another, convinced that somehow you’ll grab his attention. Prompted by a new set of black and white portraits uploaded to his account, you’d purchased the bottle and brought it home to drown in it, staring at the photos until your vision blurs. In the first image he’s looking directly down the barrel, into the lens, his body facing away and head turned toward the camera, an unbearably devilish smirk curving his lips. You know that smirk and the dimple it pulls into his skin well, it appears frequently in your dreams and now it takes up the entire screen of your phone, made up of pixels that lack all of the warmth and vibrancy that emanate from him.

You double tap your screen, a white heart appearing and disappearing over his grin. In a desperate attempt to be noticed, for him to sense your torment, you tap the heart at the bottom left corner of the picture, changing it from red back to an outline, a shell of itself. You repeat this over and over, red to outline, red to outline, will he see the notifications? Will anyone? Even if he did, would your username set off any alarm bells, does he even remember you?

He promised he would, but he didn’t keep every promise he made. Not when it mattered.

Willing yourself to stop liking and unliking the picture, you go back to your messages. Still unread.

The frustration gnaws at you from the inside until you feel on the verge of a true mental breakdown, a snap decision away from being locked up. Ignoring the potential consequences, you make that decision anyway, and a quick search brings you the name of their management company.

This is crazy… right?

You had definitely called. The first call was answered with cool professionalism that you met with your own cultivated “phone voice”, the conversation pleasant enough until you’d come out and asked for Josh Kiszka’s contact information. You’re sure you heard the woman on the other end of the line gasp, a sharp intake of breath followed by a heated dismissal as she admonished you for even daring to ask for the personal information of one of their clients. When the distinct click of the call disconnecting hits your ear, you’re not surprised.

But it doesn’t stop you from dialing the number again. And then again when the call goes unanswered.

The same woman picks up the phone after allowing it to ring for a considerable amount of time, and she manages to maintain the professional tone she’d answered with the first time. You ask if you can leave a message for Mr. Kiszka, but she declines and advises you to stop calling their office.

Two days later, you call again. As soon as you hear her, you know it’s the same person and that she’ll be prepared to hang up on you the moment you open your mouth. You don’t even try to hide your desperation, practically begging her to just take your name and number and pass it along, no message, no further information, please just tell him I called.

Click.

Six weeks. It’s been a month and a half since you saw that God forsaken video and it’s haunted you every day. You’ve gone to borderline embarrassing lengths to reach him. Messages, comments across the band’s various social media platforms, you’ve gone so far as to slide into his brothers’ DMs, in the hope that maybe one of them actually checks them.

They don’t.

As if it’s routine for you now, you absently scroll through your recent calls while you sit at your desk and tap on the number you’ve memorized as that of their management office, putting your phone on speaker as it rings. Ready to go toe-to-toe with Amber again while you wrap up an email, you’re shocked into momentary silence as a voice you don’t recognize comes over the line and greets you with the name of the company followed by their own and an offer to assist.

“Oh, hi um, Drew, was it? Drew I’m trying to get in contact with a client of yours, a Mr. Josh Kiszka. Could you-“

“What’s your name?”

Fuck. You can’t lie, so you give him your first name and hold your breath, waiting for the inevitable click.

“Please hold, I’ll connect your call.”

Holy shit. Your palms are instantly clammy with a cold sweat. There’s no way. The phone nearly slips from your fingers again as you take the call off speaker and hold it up to your ear with a shaky hand, the generic hold music drowned out by the rush of your own blood, your heart racing.

In a small conference room several floors over Drew’s head, the intercom at the center of the table beeps. Josh is seated there, next to Jake, the other band members across from them. All eyes dart to the intercom before sliding back to Patrick, their manager’s assistant that’s leading this meeting. Patrick sighs and leans in, pressing the button to answer the call.

“We’re in the middle of something, what?”

“S-so sorry sir, Mr. Kiszka has a call waiting on line three.”

Patrick sighs again deeply as he shakes his head, the other men around the table grin at each other, individual eyebrows raised in curiosity before they look back to the head of the table.

“Sorry guys, new fucking intern- Which Mr. Kiszka, Drew? Quickly.”

“Oh- I, sorry, Josh, sir.” Drew is about to lose this job before he even truly has it.

“And you didn’t just take a message because…?” Patrick is understandably irritated but the rest of the guys take the interruption in stride, leaning back into their chairs and letting their gazes drift back to Josh, intrigue written between his brows and on the subtle downturn of his lips.

“I- Don’t know sir, I’m so sorry, I’ll let her know-“

Josh interjects, cutting Drew the smallest amount of slack that he seems to desperately need. “Hey, that’s okay I’ll just take it. Where can I…?” He trails off and Drew stutters through telling him there’s a vacant office next door to the left, he can pick up line three, before Patrick presses the button to end Drew’s suffering.

“You expecting a call, Josh?” Sam, the youngest Kiszka brother speaks up, an inquisitive eyebrow still sitting high on his forehead.

“Ya know, I’m not, and that makes it all the more mysterious doesn’t it?” He waves his hands through the air and flashes a wide grin before standing and leaving the room.

The office next door is indeed empty, and dark. Josh flips the light switch on the wall and strolls in, rounding the tidy desk and taking a seat behind it. A multi-line corded phone sits at the corner, a red light flashing next to a button labeled Line 3. He leans in and lifts the handset from the receiver, putting it up to his ear as he pushes the button and the flashing light goes solid.

You’ve been on hold for what feels like hours, though it’s probably been only a few minutes, and you can’t bring yourself to end the call. The hope radiating through your body has caused a flush to creep over your chest and up your neck, you’d torn your cardigan off and thrown it onto your desk after the first minute. Your cheek is hot against the glass of your phone’s screen and your heart feels like it’s about to burst from your chest. You suck in a gasp and hold it when you hear the line click.

“Hello?”

His voice. You haven’t heard it at all since the day you’d found out who he was, haven’t listened to a song, haven’t watched a video. There would have been absolutely no way you could’ve handled it, and you’ve been holding out hope against every odd that the next time you did hear it… it would be straight from his own mouth. The sound of it leaves you light headed as you exhale the breath you’ve been holding, and you realize you haven’t said anything.

His voice rasps through the speaker again. “Hello?”

“… Josh.”

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf @gretasimp @objectsinspvce @writingcold @gretavangroupie @sweetybre @gretasgoose @gvfjess @josh-iamyour-mama

[makerofrunevests]

This Loki calendar seems to have some official Season 2 art.

And some closeups screenshotted from the image above:

[secularbakedgoods]

Runners

(science fiction, 1100 words)

It’s the end of the fiscal year. Hunting season has begun.

Ultimately, it all kicked off with the invention of the “workplace transparency plan.” As ad revenue stagnated, social platforms instead offered corporate clients access to their employees’ private messages. For a small subscription fee, employers could learn who their workers were communicating with and retaliate as they saw fit.

Within months, an entire industry of talent recruiters found themselves stonewalled by a terrified workforce. With electronic communication lost to them, the recruiters — far behind on their quotas — resorted to more drastic methods.

Strive Solutions is a midsize software company on the third floor of a converted building in the old warehouse district. Its two vintage elevators are too old to support ID card readers, so a pair of security doors flanking the reception area are all that stand between potential intruders and Strive’s inner sanctum.

A few minutes past 3:00 in the afternoon, both elevators open and the mob piles out.

Runners always raid in force, the better to overwhelm any on-site security. Where once the typical recruiter was a bland, nonthreatening thirtysomething in business-casual pastels, now they trend toward linebackers’ builds and stab vests. Those who aren’t the general size and shape of a refrigerator are the most dangerous of all — quick, clever, and vicious.

Not one of them is over the age of 30. Running is a youngster’s game.

The security doors are RFID-locked, but made of glass. Somebody puts a boot through one of them, and the runners barely slow as they stampede through.

The bulk of Strive’s employees work in an open-plan area referred to as “the Pit” whenever management isn’t around. The runners swarm through it with ease, unhindered by hallways or doors, vaulting over desks and chairs when they need to.

Certain pieces of equipment are standard. Every runner carries a tablet, ruggedized to withstand all sorts of abuse and equipped with a fingerprint scanner. A simple swipe of a new recruit’s thumb and the contract is sealed, filed instantly with their new employer. Signatures were once the preferred endorsement, before someone realized a fingerprint was valid even if the owner of said finger was unconscious.

Most of the runners also carry weapons, usually truncheons or collapsible batons. Those who don’t are about to learn that Strive’s CEO has a blacksmithing hobby and an office full of medieval weapons.

The rest of a runner’s arsenal varies with personal preference.

Barry Duboc, like most of his colleagues, goes for the easy money: junior employees who are easily seduced by playground offices and extravagant launch parties, and are easily intimidated into signing anything put in front of them. Clients don’t pay much for cannon fodder like this, but Barry makes up the difference in volume.

Inside a military surplus document holder, its metal edges filed razor sharp, Barry carries photos of his client’s break lounge — stuffed wall-to-wall with vintage arcade games — and a laminated copy of their dense recreational calendar. Before long he’s herded a sizable number of impressionable young programmers away from the safety of their fellows.

A few yards away, a 6’7” runner with tattooed sclera and brass knuckles on both hands sinks his teeth into the earlobe of a production intern.

Seasoned runners like Tom Saunders know where the real money is: senior developers, not so easily swayed by treats, parties, or threats.

Tom never goes on a run without a copy of his client’s benefits package, a breakdown of their flexible working policy, and a stun gun. This time, though, Tom’s got a secret weapon: his client operates out of a refurbished boutique hotel and offers private offices to its senior employees. The promise of working behind a door that can close attracts two senior web developers, one production manager, and an automation engineer.

Shelly Fleming is a virtuoso; she glides through the bedlam of the Pit like a shark through a school of fish. Painstaking research, careful maneuvering, and perfect timing have brought her here, today, for one target alone.

Over the weekend, Strive’s lead software architect posted anonymously online about her struggles at work since transitioning. Unfortunately, the post went viral and a characteristic turn of phrase gave her away. She was summoned to Strive’s HR department ten minutes ago for a lecture on “undermining the company’s public image.”

Shelly bursts into the room with a six-figure contract and her client’s novel-length Diversity & Inclusion policy. If the architect took the time to actually read the policy, she’d quickly realize it was crafted with great care to serve as a flawless legal and political shield while entitling the company’s employees to no actual protection or recourse from discrimination. But time isn’t a luxury she has anymore.

She winds up at the center of a tug of war between Shelly and the HR manager, whose brightly painted nails carve deep lines into the architect’s arm as Shelly drags her from the room.

Of course, Strive has invested in countermeasures. An expensive renovation over the holidays transformed the entire office into a Faraday cage, ensuring no wireless signals can go in or out. The runners’ contracts are all hosted on a remote web service; they must get their prizes out of the building.

Barry ushers his pack of recruits back through reception, but the elevators take precious seconds to arrive and more to depart. Strive’s two security guards beat several of the defecting juniors unconscious before they can escape, and a particularly zealous manager drags another from the elevator as the doors close.

Tom knows better, and heads for the stairs; unfortunately, the route to the stairwell leads past Strive’s executive suite. He loses one of his recruits to a flying tackle from the COO, who adorns his desk with high school football trophies.

Shelly cased the office in advance. She leads the architect to an old fire escape at the far end of the floor, near the server room. The windows are locked, but a quick blow from Shelly’s collapsible baton and they’re both home free, clambering down the side of the building.

As quickly as it started, it’s all over.

Of the dozens of workstations arrayed throughout the Pit, almost half now sit empty. Broken glass and loose papers lie scattered across the floor, alongside a few office chairs knocked over in the chaos. Strive’s remaining workers peer uncertainly from beneath their desks.

A light breeze wafts through the shattered window.

Strive’s CEO storms and rages for an hour, cursing the disloyalty of his former employees. Then, shutting himself in his office, he places a call to his own recruiter.

(my ko-fi)

[fivenightsnews]

Trends International added a listing for a Five Nights at Freddy's: Help Wanted 2 2025 calendar.

(Source: https://www.trendsinternational.com/top-brands/five-nights-at-freddy-s/2025-five-nights-at-freddys-wall-calendar-255026.html)

[jeffhirsch]

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[richincolor]

We've got a packed week with seven new releases on our calendar! Which ones are on your TBR list?

The HarperCollins Union has been striking since 10 November 2022. Please consider supporting the strike by purchasing books through the union's Bookshop account or by donating to the strike fund.

NerdCrush by Alisha Emrich Running Press Kids

Ramona Lambert is a typical shy, artistic sixteen-year-old. She has a best friend whom she’s known since they were in diapers; parents who love her; a love for cosplay; and a crush on the cute boy in her class.

The only problem? Her best friend moved away; her parents don't quite understand her love of cosplay; and she is pretty sure her crush has no idea she exists.

To escape her troubles, Ramona turns to cosplay and her original character, Rel, who gives her the confidence and freedom that she lacks in real life. Embracing this confidence, she decides to strike up an email conversation with her crush, Caleb Wolfe, from her cosplay account in the hopes getting to know him . . . and maybe win his heart. Then as Caleb and Ramona are swept up in their emails back and forth to each other, and Ramona falls even harder as he opens up about his hopes, insecurities, and his own geeky loves. However, as Caleb starts to grow closer and closer to Rel, he also strikes up a friendship with Ramona, who knows she can't keep the truth about Rel from Caleb but isn't sure she is ready to risk losing him. With an important cosplay convention coming up and the anxiety of her double-life weighing on her, Ramona has to decide if she’ll hide behind her cosplay character forever or take the chance and let Caleb see the real her--because he might actually like her for who she is. -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Wildblood by Lauren Blackwood Wednesday Books

Eighteen-year-old Victoria is a Wildblood. Kidnapped at the age of six and manipulated by the Exotic Lands Touring Company, she’s worked as a tour guide ever since with a team of fellow Wildbloods who take turns using their magic to protect travelers in a Jamaican jungle teeming with ghostly monsters.

When the boss denies Victoria an earned promotion to team leader in favor of Dean, her backstabbing ex, she’s determined to prove herself. Her magic may be the most powerful on the team, but she’s not the image the boss wants to send their new client, Thorn, a renowned goldminer determined to reach an untouched gold supply deep in the jungle.

Thorn is everything Victoria isn't - confident, impossibly kind, and so handsome he leaves her speechless. And when he entrusts the mission to her, kindness turns to mutual respect, turns to affection, turns to love. But the jungle is treacherous, and between hypnotic river spirits, soul-devouring women that shed their skin like snakes, and her ex out for revenge, Victoria has to decide - is promotion at a corrupt company really what she wants? -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Going Dark by Melissa de la Cruz Union Square Co.

#WhereisAmeliaAshley

The Influencer Amelia Ashley shares everything with her followers – her favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants, her best fashion tips, and her European trip-of-a-lifetime with her hot boyfriend.

The Boyfriend Josh has no choice but to return home without Amelia after she abandons him in Rome. He has no clue where she went or how her blood got in his suitcase. Why won’t anyone believe him?

The Hacker To Harper Delgado, Amelia Ashley is just another missing white girl whipping up a media frenzy. But with each digital knot she untangles about the influencer, Harper wonders: who is Amelia Ashley?

The Other Girl Two years ago, another girl went missing, one who never made headlines or had a trending hashtag.

The Truth Amelia’s disappearance has captured the world’s attention. What comes next? Watch this space…

Told through a mixture of social media posts, diary entries, and firsthand accounts, Going Dark is a gripping, suspenseful thriller about all the missing girls who fall off the radar, perfect for true crime fans and readers of One of Us is Lying by Karen M. McManus.

These Infinite Threads (This Woven Kingdom, #2) by Tahereh Mafi HarperCollins

(The HarperCollins Union has been striking since 10 November 2022. Please consider supporting the strike by purchasing books through the union's Bookshop account or by donating to the strike fund.)

Alizeh is the heir to the Jinn throne and fulfills a long-foretold prophecy of a Jinn sovereign destined to free her people from the half-lives they’ve been forced to live under the rule of humans.

Kamran is the heir to the human throne, and he’s being pressured to marry before he becomes king. When he falls in love with Alizeh and subsequently learns her true identity, he must question everything he’s been taught about Jinn and their future in his kingdom.

These Infinite Threads picks up at the explosive cliff-hanger ending of the New York Times bestselling novel This Woven Kingdom, and is perfect for fans of Leigh Bardugo, Tomi Adeyemi, and Sabaa Tahir. -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads

The Long Run by James Acker Inkyard Press

(The HarperCollins Union has been striking since 10 November 2022. Please consider supporting the strike by purchasing books through the union's Bookshop account or by donating to the strike fund.)

Sebastian Villeda is over it. Over his rep. Over his bros. Over being "Bash the Flash," fastest sprinter in South Jersey. His dad is gone, his mom is dead, and his stepfather is clueless. Bash has no idea what he wants out of life. Until he meets Sandro.

Sandro Miceli is too nice for his own good. The middle child in an always-growing, always-screaming Italian family, Sandro walks around on a broken foot to not bother his busy parents. All he wants is to get out and never look back.

When fate—in the form of a party that gets busted—brings these two very different boys together, neither of them could’ve predicted finding a love that they’d risk everything for… -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads

This Time It's Real by Ann Liang Scholastic

When seventeen-year-old Eliza Lin’s essay about meeting the love of her life unexpectedly goes viral, her entire life changes overnight. Now she has the approval of her classmates at her new international school in Beijing, a career-launching internship opportunity at her favorite magazine…and a massive secret to keep.

Eliza made her essay up. She’s never been in a relationship before, let alone in love. All good writing is lying, right?

Desperate to hide the truth, Eliza strikes a deal with the famous actor in her class, the charming but aloof Caz Song. She’ll help him write his college applications if he poses as her boyfriend. Caz is a dream boyfriend -- he passes handwritten notes to her in class, makes her little sister laugh, and takes her out on motorcycle rides to the best snack stalls around the city.

But when her relationship with Caz starts feeling a little too convincing, all of Eliza’s carefully laid plans are threatened. Can she still follow her dreams if it means breaking her own heart?

Daughters of Oduma by Moses Ose Utomi Atheneum Books for Young Readers

Eat. Dance. Fight.

This is the life of the girls who compete in the Isle’s elite, all-female fighting sport of Bowing. But it isn’t really Dirt’s life anymore. At sixteen, she is old and has retired from competition. Instead, she spends her days coaching the younger sisters of the Mud Fam and dreading her fast-approaching birthday, when she’ll have to leave her sisters to fulfill whatever destiny the Gods choose for her.

Dirt’s young sisters are coming along nicely, and the Mud Fam is sure to win the upcoming South God Bow tournament, which is crucial: the tiny Fam needs the new recruits that come with victory. Then an attack from a powerful rival leaves the Mud without their top Bower, and Dirt is the only one who can compete in the tournament. But Dirt is old, out of shape, and afraid. She has never wanted to be a leader. Victory seems impossible—yet defeat would mean the end of her beloved Fam. And no way is Dirt going to let that happen.

[withlovelunette]

— OCs in Bunny Picrew!

I was tagged by @monstrousfreedom !! Thank you! ♡

I decided to use Clara and Hans for this since those are the only characters I’ve (somewhat) introduced here so far! I figured I might as well take the opportunity to go into some of the design choices and why I envision them the way I do as well!

Clara has the brighter and cooler color palette on the left while Hans has the darker and warmer color palette on the right. I always associate Clara with dark, muted blues and seafoam green because she puts on this somewhat distant and cold exterior which really isn’t representative of the kind of person she is. She also frequently dresses in a lot of layers (due to the cold) but also because she’s quite literally walling herself off from intimacy and walking her feelings off from the outside world. Meanwhile Hans wears reds and gold, partially because that’s the color most associated with the Nutcracker, but also because red has a lot of anatomical connotations (particularly the heart, which plays a huge role in the story). Him wearing bright reds and flashy attires is deliberate on his end, because he’s essentially branding himself with the color that designates that he’s still human (red being the color of flesh and blood). I basically wanted them to have the duality of pushing one’s humanity away while the other is desperately clinging onto it.

For the items in their hands, Clara holding a spark is supposed to link back to how she’s looking for her “spark” in life now that she no longer has ballet, as well as foreshadowing for her role later in the story. For Hans, I gave him a pocket watch to represent his fight against time, as well as a reference to his habit of looking at the time pretty often (clocks, calendars, etc.). This all sounds super deep and deliberate but the thought process was literally “oh pretty antique pocket watch. hans likes pocket watch. I’ll give him a pocket watch”. Honestly I just love talking about character psychology and saw an opportunity and decided to take it.

Here’s the link to the picrew!

I’m also clueless as to who’s already done this trend so sorry if anyone’s gotten tagged already, but I’ll tag @hallwriteblr @eurydicefades @sam-glade and @flowerprose ! I’m always a bit nervous about tagging people, especially if they don’t explicitly state that they’re receptive to game tags, but hopefully this is alright! ^^;