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thepastdied · 2 years ago

Text

Amped Up (p.2)

perv!virgin!eddie munson × virgin!fem!reader

MDNI 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: ~8k

<- previous part

The stickiness in Eddie's boxers began to irritate him.

He'd been sitting there for an hour, watching as you picked at random strings on his guitar. A piece of hair hung loosely as you kept your head bowed down, your eyes flicking back and forth between both of your hands.

"I'm gonna change into some comfy clothes." He broke you out of your hyperfocus. You looked at him and muttered a 'uh huh' before bowing your head again.

He quickly stood up and pulled his shirt down, walking backward toward the dresser on the other side of the room to avoid showing his front to you.

Eddie grabbed a pair of loose dnd pajama pants before he scurried into the bathroom, shutting the door a little too hard behind him.

"Fucking IDIOT." He slapped himself in the face and stared at himself in the mirror, both arms straining as he braced himself on either side of the sink.

He wants to ask you to stay the night. Figured you'd shower here, your naked body getting all wet and soapy in his tub. He'd fucking lick the soap off your tits if you let him. He'd beg on his knees to let him clean you with his tongue. He'd be a sneaky fuck and take your underwear while you're in the shower and cum on it. You wouldn't even notice, only thinking that you had a little too much discharge that day.

Maybe you would wear his boxers instead, and he wouldn't wash them afterward. He'd hold them to his face while he jerked off to your yearbook photo. Maybe he should cum in his body wash bottle. God… you'd be rubbing his cum all over your body. But then again, he lives with his uncle and wouldn't be able to buy new soap before he got home from work in the morning. There's that extra toothbrush.. he could-. Eddie, stop. He is sick and fucking twisted.

His dick was hard again. It throbbed and it hurt.

Eddie turned the shower on and stripped himself, deciding that he'd rather not clean his dick and whole groin area in the sink. His cum was everywhere, including his inner thighs.

He quickly rubbed soap all over his body and ran his fingers through his hair, lathering it up with shampoo before rinsing.

Eddie stepped out and shook his head, water sputtering everywhere, as he wrapped a towel around his waist.

"Eddie? You okay in there?" You tapped on the door a few times.

He walked over to the other side of the door, mustering up the courage to pop the question. He took a deep breath.

"Just got my shower done, hun. By the way, did you uh... wanna stay? I mean it's late and you could just continue your reading here." His voice was low, shaking anxiously.

You were quiet just for a moment, trying to decide if the 30-minute drive to the other side of town was worth it at this hour. He would have to also drive back home. You felt kind of bad making him have to take that roundtrip. Meanwhile, Eddie was biting the shit out of his thumb and tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hmm... why not, sure. Would be easier on you, right?" You shrugged and excitedly smiled before turning to go back into his room.

"-and..and! You should shower. Like, right now. The water is hot." He shoved his face in the crack of the door as he spoke, trying to catch you before you retreated back to his room.

"Erm.. okay." You tilted your head quizzically and lightly laughed.

Eddie sighed, fist bumping the air before shaking the nerves out of his hands. He quickly dressed himself and rubbed the towel through his hair.

Your head snapped over to the door as he stepped out wearing his pj shorts and a very loose plain tank top, his guitar pick necklace in full view and most of his chest tattoo standing out against his pale skin. You dropped your gaze to his pants as he reached to the top shelf of the closet right next to his bedroom door to grab you a towel. Air got caught in your throat when you realized he wasn't wearing underwear.

Eddie looked over at you, eyes widening just a bit when he realized where you were looking. He notices your thighs clench, and it makes his dick twitch. His face burned as he quickly grabbed the towel from the shelf and tossed it over to you.

"Whenever you're ready, sweetheart."

You fiddled with the threads of the towel before nodding and brushing passed him to go into the bathroom.

Eddie pursed his lips and turned to go into his room, abruptly stopping as he realized he left his clothes on the floor and not in the laundry basket. His blood ran cold and his heart hammered in his chest. With an ear pressed against the door, he listened for the shower to turn on. You didn't lock the door.

He paced back and forth right outside the bathroom door, fanning his face to try to cool off. You were staying the night. You were naked in his bathroom. He fucking came in his pants while looking at you, and those pants are on the floor in plain view for you to see. He had to get them.

But he couldn't stop thinking of all the things he could do while you slept. Could smell your hair or touch it, take pictures, jerk off to you. God, he could even cum on you if he was that sick. Maybe he was.

Eddie sat at the edge of his bed with his chin in his palm, leg bobbing up and down. He had to give you something to wear, but all his bottoms would be baggy on you. He wanted something tight, that could press right against your cunt and get stained with your juices while you watched the hot movie he had planned for tonight. He wanted to make you ache like he does.

He sighed, falling back onto the bed with his arms sprawled out and eyes closed as he willed his boner to go down. There were too many things going on in his brain right now. Fuck adhd. His eyes snapped open before he bolted to the bathroom door as he suddenly got an idea.

"Hey- y/n? I forgot my uh.. aftershave?" He cringed at himself. He didn't even shave today. Idiot. "Could I grab it real quick?" He pressed his ear to the door and held his breath.

"Sure! Doors unlocked!" You called out.

Eddie grabbed the doorknob with a shaky hand, pushing the door open and breathing in the steam that swirled in the air.

His bottoms were on the floor, right next to yours, and he thanked the gods that you couldn't see his cum stains. He lifted them up and felt the wet spot, looking down at your shorts. He licked his lips and picked them up, rubbing his cum on the inside of the crotch area of your shorts, before tossing his clothes in the laundry bin and grabbing his aftershave.

Eddie wheezed when he exited the bathroom, the adrenaline coursing through his whole body as he grinned. His dick was so hard that he swears he could feel the precum dripping down his shaft.

He rubbed a hand over his face before looking down at his hand and gasping loudly.

Eddie was holding your fucking underwear.

What the fuck was he thinking!? He began to panic, debating whether he should toss them back into the bathroom or-

No way in hell.

He looked at them, feeling the lace between his fingers and running his thumb over the wet patch on the soft crotch of your underwear. It was from when you were watching him just moments earlier, though he didn't know that.

"God fucking damn.." He licked his lips as his mouth watered, pupils blown wide as he stared at your wetness. Without a second thought, he brought them to his mouth, licking your juices. His breath shuttered at the taste, his whole body going hot and his dick throbbing. He bit down onto your panties, holding them in his mouth as his chest pounded. He clumsily pulled his dick out, rubbing his swollen head with the palm of his hand and then taking the panties from his mouth to place his cock on the wet cloth. Eddie pumped himself a few times, mixing your juices with his precum together.

"Bet you'd love to wear these panties.. all soaked with my cum. Fuck.." He hissed and leaned his head back against the wall, his hips bucking forward as he swallowed moans.

He jumped, his legs almost giving out underneath him as you turned the shower off. The sound of the curtain being pushed back causing him to literally run into his bedroom. Eddie fisted your underwear tightly before frantically looking around his room, deciding to shove them into the pockets of his pants instead.

"Uh.. Eddie? Could you grab me a shirt?" You said, voice muffled by the bathroom door.

He nodded to himself before rummaging through his dresser, pulling out a homemade Corroded Coffin shirt that was black and red tie-dye.

You were definitely going to wonder where your panties were, and he racked his brain to find a way to get them in there. He held his forehead, fidgeting nervously with the curls of his bangs before snapping his fingers and smirking.

"Here you go, sweetheart. Special shirt for the special lady." He tapped the door and stretched his arm inside as you giggled. The bundled up shirt was in his fist, while your underwear was just hanging underneath it by his pinky. He leaned his head as far as he could against the door, peeking to see you in the mirror.

Eddie almost groaned when he saw the towel tightly wrapped around you. Your tits were basically popping out, your nipples just barely covered. He let the underwear fall by unhooking his pinky just as you grabbed the shirt, not noticing it falling to the floor.

"Did you need some boxers too?"

"Uh.. no thanks, just gonna use mine." You replied.

"Well, alright." He nonchalantly said, but his jaw fucking dropped. God is on his side tonight.

He crouched down to the floor after you shut the door, taking deep breaths. He just risked your entire friendship, pulling sick shit like that. But he loved the thrill of it, and he planned to continue despite him almost dying of relief in the hallway that he didn't get caught.

Meanwhile, you were looking at your underwear with your eyebrows scrunched together. You didn't realize you got that wet while staring at the outline of Eddie's dick. You shrugged before putting your panties and shorts on.

You exited the bathroom while you dried your hair, peaking into Eddie's room to see him sitting on the floor with his box of vinyls, his fingers slowly flipping through them. He didn't acknowledge you as you sat on the edge of his his bed, legs almost touching his shoulder. He wasn't even looking for anything in particular, really, but didn't want to just be sitting on his bed daydreaming about you when you came in.

"Did you need any laundry washed?" He asked, eyes still focused on the vinyls.

"No, I just changed the shirt." You kicked your dangling feet back and forth.

You saw Eddie tense up, his hand that was thumbing through the vinyls pausing for a moment as he cleared his throat before continuing. You couldn't see, but he had looked up at the ceiling and mouthed a 'thank you' to whatever God was giving him the best night of his life.

His precum and spit was rubbing into your pussy right now. His entire face flushed at the acknowledgment, suddenly feeling his body begin to sweat.

" 'kay. So, you wanna watch a movie?" He twisted his body toward you and raised and eyebrow.

You noticed the tint of pink on his cheeks and squinted, leaning forward.

"Sure.. but, are you okay?" You placed the back of your hand on his forehead and then cheek. He was warm.

Eddie's eyes widened before he slapped your hand away and stood up.

"Psh, what're you talking about? It's hot in here." He turned away from you and huffed out a laugh.

You stared at his back and watched his shoulder muscles move as he rummaged through the many vhs tapes he owned, hands blindly moving through all the random movies.

You bit your lip as your eyes ran down the length of his body, his tank top bunched around his waist. A hot feeling spread between your thighs and you rubbed them together, swallowing down a moan as you continued to stare at him. His hair was mostly dry, the back of his shirt still wet. You could see some of his torso from how large the armholes of his tank top were, and his pj pants were tight enough to see the general shape of his ass and thighs.

"It's hot?" You asked, trying to continue your previous conversation.

Eddie shut his eyes and breathed out his nose, willing you to just drop it.

"Yeah. It is." He said flatly.

"Then take your shirt off." You immediately replied.

Eddie looked at you through the mirror that was partially in front of him where his guitar would usually be.

You weren't looking at him, instead looking at your toes as you ran them across his carpet.

"Take.. take my shirt off?"

You finally looked over at him and shook your head as you squinted your eyes.

"Yeah? You said you're hot and you're burning up. Was just a suggestion." You rolled your eyes and crawled up to the top of the bed to get comfy for the movie.

"It's alright.." He mumbled before picking out a random tape. He was supposed to play a dirty movie but chickened out. If he became putty from you looking at his dick, the movie would certainly backfire on him.

Eddie looked over at you. You'd picked up one of your books while you waited for him, knees pulled up so you can rest your book on them.

He gulped as he looked in between your thighs.

You were wearing those panties.

"y/n." He blurted, causing your eyes to meet.

"Can you help me plug in the tv?" He pointed to the area under his desk, even though he was standing way closer than you.

You, oblivious, didn't think twice before hopping of the bed and crouching down to your hands and knees, your ass in the air.

"I dont see the cord."

Eddie didn't hear you, too busy checking out your ass and the way your little shorts wedged in your pussy lips.

"Eddie? I don't see the cord." You turned to look at him.

"Oh, its there hun. Keep looking." He nudged his chin up for you to continue.

You huffed as you leaned further down.

He reached a hand into his pants and grabbed his dick. It was only half hard as he felt it grow in his hand. He licked his top lip as he moved to stand directly behind you.

"Mhm... maybe it's one of those cords to the right.'

You spread your legs a little further to support your body as you leaned to one side.

He sighed and smiled. Fuck, he'd love to rail you just like that.

Eddie pumped his dick fast, trying to get some precum onto his hand. He has been just torturing himself all night, hasn't he?

"Gonna get us some water, you just keep looking."

You waved him off as he walked into his kitchen.

Eddie pulled down his pants so his dick was out, jerking himself fast and clenching his jaw as he suppressed moans. Precum finally began to leak from his tip and he grabbed a cup, filling it with water before collecting it onto his finger and smearing it around the rim.

"God, I'm sick." He smiled mischievously.

He fisted his cock harder as he set the cup down, one hand holding his hair back as he looked down at himself.

"Bet you'd wanna drink my cum, wouldn't you baby."

"You'd lick it right up, just like a good girl. Cause that's what you are." He jaw went slack as he nodded.

"A good-" he pumped himself hard, thrusting his hips into his hand "-fucking" another thrust "girl" his knuckles were white with the grip he had on his hair.

He quickly pulled his hand away, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. He felt like a feral animal, pupils blown wide and eyes wild.

The precum dripped down his shaft and he took his whole dick this time, rubbing it on the rim of your cup.

"Eddie!" You shouted.

He fumbled with his pants as he tucked himself into the waistband before returning to his room. You stood there angrily with one hand on your hip, the other pointing to the cord which was connected to the TV.

"Dude! It wasn't even close to where you said."

He scratched the back of his neck as he looked to where you pointed.

"Sorry bout that.. Here, you haven't drank water today." He shoved the cup in front of you.

You rolled your eyes and took the cup from him before setting it down on his desk.

He eyed it, flicking his eyes between you and the cup.

You groaned as you layed back onto the bed, the wetness in your underwear making you remember how horny he made you.

You looked at him and down to his dick.

You could clearly see the outline of his hardened length, his dick tucked into his waistband.

You breathed out a hot breath, his eyes ripping from the cup and landing on yours as you kept staring.

He froze. Shit.

"Eddie, c'mon." You patted the bed beside you and bit your lip.

He shook his head from side to side dumbly.

"Why not..?" You innocently said.

"Cause I forgot my water." He mumbled, turning to exit his room.

You perked up from the bed and reached for his arm.

"Just have mine." You offered.

He shook his head again and you grumbled.

"What, you think it's poisoned or something?" You stood from the bed and grabbed the cup, drinking from the cup and pausing for a moment.

He closely watched you, his mouth slightly agape.

"What?" You licked your lips.

Eddie was frozen. He didn't move a muscle, besides his dick involuntarily. Your eyes instantly snapped down to it just as it twitched. His face got hot and you waved your hand dismissively.

"Whatever. Let's watch the movie, c'mon.. I got it ready." You slowly crawled onto the bed, your ass facing him as you arched your back, smirking as you heard him curse.

You were soaking and were positive it was seeping through your panties and shorts.

And it was. Because Eddie could confirm it.

You sat back against the pillows and motioned him over.

"I dont want to watch a movie yet" He said after a moment, noticing your hooded eyes roam his body.

"Why not?" You tilted your head.

" 'cause I want to show you somethin' on my guitar." He turned from you to grab it from his chair before climbing on the bed, sitting it on your lap.

"Again..?" You looked up at him, his face inches from yours as he leaned over to put the strap over your shoulders.

"Mhm." He replied quickly.

You gasped as he lifted it up and placed one of the sides directly between your legs.

"You okay?"

"Y- yeah.."

He moved the guitar again, eyes glued to your face as he rubbed it against your pussy.

Eddie saw the way your cheeks began to flush and how you swallowed.

"Gotta just get it in the right position.." He leaned over you again, his hair brushing against your cheek as he moved it to the side one more time.

You accidentally hummed and covered it with a cough.

"Can I have my water?" You squeaked.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth and had a smug smirk plastered on his face, nodding as he leaned over to grab it, and giving you a knowing look.

Your pussy ached for more friction and you could tell Eddie was watching as you squirmed uncomfortably.

"You sure you're okay sweetheart?" He leaned forward and brushed a small piece of hair from your face.

"Well, alriiiiiight. I wanna watch the movie now. Forgot what I wanted to show you." He dramatically shrugged and pressed play on the movie when you only gave him a confused nod. You sat there blankly for a moment.

"Fuck, it is really hot in here." He fanned his face, looking right at you. "-or maybe it's just you?" Now a cheeky smile.

You giggled and rolled your eyes at him, slapping his shoulder.

Eddie's smile dropped as he quickly licked his lips and swiftly pulled his tank top off, his tongue in his cheek as he squinted at you.

"You should be watching the movie, not me, hun."

He expected you to be flustered, but you weren't at all.

His breath caught in his throat when you shamelessly looked down at his dick and back to his eyes, laying your back against his pillows as you slowly shifted your hips up into his guitar that was still on your lap.

"Wh-wha.." His eyes studied you closely, watching as your clothed pussy rubbed into his guitar, the neck being squished between your tits.

You hummed again and didn't try to hide it this time. Eddie sat up onto his heels, his hard-on very obvious now as he watched you grind up into his guitar.

"It.. feels good." You whispered.

"Yeah, I bet it does." He replied just as quietly.

He grabbed the edge of the guitar that he came on and placed it over your pussy, lightly pushing it down. You moaned quietly and closed your eyes.

"Oh my god, sweetheart." He puffed out a breath.

"Mmm.." You continued to roll your hips as you watched him marvel at you with half hooded eyes.

"You know.." He started.

You stopped your movements and waited for him to continue.

"No, no.. keep going. Yeah, just like that.. good girl." Eddie pushed it down against you again and gave you a seductive smile as you opened your legs more.

"You know.." He said again. "I came on this guitar, right over there-" He motioned his head toward the empty seat. "- while I watched you read a couple hours ago. You're so pretty, the prettiest girl I've seen." Your body shivered at his confession, your hips moving a little faster.

"Shh, shh.. slow down. Look, baby." Eddie moved the guitar so you could see where he came and your mouth watered.

"O-oh my god.." You ran your fingers across the now rough surface where is cum stain was.

"I've done other things too." He scooted a little closer to you, legs touching and one of his hands still holding the neck of the guitar.

"w-what did you do.." Your eyes were glassy as you panted and waited for his answer. Your juices were soaking your folds.

"You really wanna know?" His voice was low and you nodded while watching his lips.

"I licked and sucked on your panties. The ones you're wearing right now." His eyes looked down as he spoke.

You gasped in shock and moved your hand toward your waistband. His jaw was set hard as he watched your fingers slide into your shorts and over your panties, chest moving up and down with each of his deep breaths. You skimmed your fingers over your clothes pussy and mewled.

"And.." He put his face closer to yours.

"I rubbed my precum all over them. Right where your soaking pussy is." Eddie looked deeply into your eyes, pupils so large his eyes looked black.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out, instead grabbing his hand and moving it to your core. He tossed his guitar to the other side of the bed, his fingers lightly grazing over your puffy clit, the wetness coating his fingers even through the fabric. You moved your hips up and he pressed his hand down harder, thumb rubbing circles into your sensitive bud.

"Oh, you want me to rub my precum into you?" He taunted, his body almost pressed into you now.

"u-uh.. uh huh. I do." You stammered.

Eddie lifted a hand to your face.

"I used this hand to jerk off and rub in the precum." He wiggled his fingers.

You licked your lips and eyed his long fingers.

"Can I.." You started.

He cut you off my sticking his fingers in your mouth, groaning when your tongue swirled around and your lips sucked them in.

"Fuck.. such a good girl... One more thing sweetheart."

You removed his fingers from your mouth and eyed him.

"I also put some on your cup." He carefully said, hoping it wasn't out of line.

"Oh. my. God." You gawked at him in disbelief for a few moments. He was disgusting, and it made you unbelievably feral. You wanted to jump his fucking bones.

So you did.

You roughly pushed Eddie onto his back and climbed onto him, a cheeky smile never leaving his face as you straddled him and ground down into his dick. His hands gripped onto your ass hard and making a loud slap. His moans echoed throughout his room as you rolled your hips over his dick. If he listened close enough, he could hear your pussy squelch.

"Mmmm.." You placed your hands onto his chest and arched your back, your head rolling back as you slowed down your movements.

Eddie's breathing was hard, his thighs clenching under you as he watched you moan and use him. Sweat began to collect on his face, his curls sticking to his face and a few on his lips. He never thought in a million years that the girl of his dreams would be getting off on humping his dick.

And here you are.

"E-eddie.. gonna cum.." You mewled as you picked up the pace.

He abruptly stilled your hips and you groaned in frustration.

"Not yet... want you to.. want you to cum in my mouth." He was flushed from his chest to his face as he shyly looked up at you.

His entire body was buzzing and, honestly, he mainly stopped you because he didn't want to cum. You huffed out a laugh and bit your lip, nodding your head that you understand.

"Yeah.." He nodded back, sniffling before he breathed out of his mouth in a sigh.

"If I cum in your mouth.. will you cum in mine?" You gave him a sultry look.

Eddie mumbled a few curses before scrambling to sit up and grabbing you by the back of your neck, roughly smashing his lips against yours as he used his other hand to push you harder into his cock.

You moaned into eachothers mouths, your fingers moving into his hair as he bit at your bottom lip and ran his tongue along it.

"Want you first, sweetheart." He mumbled into your mouth, your mouth muffling most of it.

"Mhm.." You nodded into the kiss as he rolled you onto your back.

Eddie's tongue explored every area of your mouth that he could, raking one of his hands up your body and smoothing over your chest. Your fingers were woven into his hair, clinging to the nape of his neck as you pulled him into you. He ripped his lips from yours to attack your neck with bites. You inhaled sharply and rolled your hips up as he continued to nip and lick as your soft skin, his groans vibrating against your throat.

“Been wanting this for so long..” He breathed into your neck, nuzzling into your damp skin that was covered in a sheen of sweat and his spit.

“Just wanna…” He huffed and mouthed at your collarbone before licking a stripe from one side to the other, his hand pulling down the neck of the shirt so he could sink his teeth into the swell of your breast.

Your breath hitched in your throat when he began to knead the pillowy flesh and buck his hips up into you. Eddie groaned against your neck and you hummed in pleasure while you held his face against your chest by his hair.

“Just wanna fucking… fill you up with my cum. Make you go a whole day with it leaking down your thighs.” He roughly rutted against you. “Wanna cover you in it..”

He began to slide down your body, placing sloppy wet kisses down your stomach and over your shorts.

Eddie kissed your clothed cunt, a needy open mouthed one, and moaned loud enough to make you jolt at the feeling of it against you. He snickered, opening his mouth to stick his tongue out, moving it over the wet patch on your shorts. The material was so thin that his spit was already seeping through and onto your folds. You whined and moved your hips up to meet his mouth, but he pulled back and roughly pushed you down with one hand. Eddie wrapped his arms around your thighs and continued his assault on your pussy with his mouth.

“Please.. take them off.” You begged, placing your hands on his forearms that were wrapped around your thighs.

“Mhm.. just cause you asked nicely.” He mumbled against you and nodded, smirking when you shivered.

Eddie hooked his fingers onto the waistband of your shorts and pulled them off, leaving your panties.

“W-wait-“

“y/n.” He gave you a stern look. You shut your mouth and pursed your lips as you frowned.

“Good girl.. fuck. You are just so good, you know that?” He huffed and shook his head with a grin, rubbing his hand over the soaking panties.

You wiggled around as he teased you, biting your tongue to not make so much noise.

“You made a mess in your panties, baby. Our juices are all mixed up in here.” He lightly slapped your pussy and looked at you through his bangs, eyes dark and brooding.

His tantalizing made you ache even more, your walls clenching around nothing. You yelped when he nibbled at your clit through your panties. His breath felt much hotter without the fabric of your shorts. He flicked his tongue over the soft thin cloth, kissed, licked more, and sucked. Your head was already spinning. Your thighs shook and you whined before he pulled away from you, lips glistening.

“Oh, were you about to cum?” He tilted his head at you. Your hands balled into fists and your teeth clenched.

“You.. you fuc-“

Eddie ripped your pretty lace panties to the side and licked a wide tongued stripe through your folds, your juices making a squelching sound against his mouth.

“O-oh mY GOD.” Your moans were pornographic, fingers fisting roughly into his hair.

He moaned against you and huffed out a laugh before swirling his tongue around. Your breathing became faster and faster.

“Baby.. please. Need to drink you up..” He breathed into you, your legs going slack in his arms and feeling numb.

Eddie’s fingers dug harshly into the meat of your thighs, his hips grinding into the mattress as you rolled your own up into his mouth. He whimpered when you said you were close, his own adrenaline kicking in even more as he was nearing the moment he could swallow your cum.

“Please.. please.. please..” He repeatedly mumbled and whined against your pussy, begging for you to give it to him.

He stuck his tongue out as far into your hole as he could and moved his pillowy lips over your clit. You lurched forward as he tongue fucked you, babbling curses as your legs shook uncontrollably, his tongue continuing to explore your insides. You swear you saw white and lost your hearing for a good moment as you cried out, climax hitting you like a freight train.

You lightly shoved his head away, heaving as you let your arms give out and flipped back onto the bed. Your body twitched from the overstimulation. His shirt you wore was clung to your body due to the thick layer of sweat on your skin, your hair all disheveled and wet. You were numb and in a daze as you stared at the ceiling and tried to catch your breath. You didn’t even feel the bed sink as Eddie moved up to you, his head leaning over yours and long curls ticking your face.

“You okay, sweet puss?” He smiled, his lips crooked and swollen, his hair a lot messier than yours.

You opened your mouth in disgust and furrowed your eyebrows, swatting his hair away from your face.

“Sweet pus-“ You sputtered.

“Yeah, cause your..” He motioned to your pussy.

“Okay- okay… I get it. Anyway, we are not done.” You waved your hands and slowly sat up, giving yourself a minute to fully collect yourself before looking him over. So. Fucking. Hot.

You moved onto your knees, his Corroded Coffin shirt draping down to your thighs and making you feel not so bare. You leaned forward and rubbed your hands on his knees, slowly working up to his pelvis. Eddie hissed when you dragged your nails across the skin of his torso to his collarbone. You placed your finger there, pushing him back lightly so he could sit up against his pillows. You caressed his chest, shoulders, and neck, feeling goosebumps spread across his skin. You kept one hand on the nape of his neck while you let the other wander down to his pants, groping his sick over the cloth of his pjs. His breath staggered hot against your ear, quiet hums coming from his throat.

Eddie turned his head to kiss you and you leaned away, shaking your head and smiling. It was your turn to torture him and he knew it, suddenly regretting his previous actions. He gulped anxiously, eyes glassy with lust.

He whimpered when you latched your lips onto his neck and sucked hungrily, the hand that was on his cock beginning to palm him harder. You messily kiss up to his jawline and across to the other side, the stubble a clear indicator that he lied about needing the aftershave. You smirked as you pulled back, looking at his hazy puppy dog eyes.

“Aftershave, huh?”

Eddie chewed on the inside of his lip and shrugged, looking away from you. “Can I.. uh” His eyes roamed his room. “Can I get a kiss?”

He looked up at you when you didn’t respond, his lips turning into a frown.

“Oh my god.. why do you have to look.. fuck.” You huffed before pressing your lips onto his, his arms leaving your sides almost immediately and holding you close.

You pulled away from him to kiss down his neck and chest, pushing your ass up as you licked down his body, resting your cheek against his clothed cock and looking up at him with doe eyes.

Eddie’s nostrils flared as he sharply inhaled, his chest rising when you nuzzled into his swollen head and kissed it.

“Awe.. got some precum already.” You licked at the cloth and gripped his shaft as you mouthed at his tip, salty fluid seeping onto your lips.

“H-holy.. fucking shit-“ He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned it back, his upper body going slack while his legs tensed underneath you. He looked at you through half hooded eyes, his pupils blown wide as you sloppily mouthed at his cock, and panted out praises.

You sat back on your heels and moved beside him. Eddie looked at you quizzically.

You pulled his guitar across the bed and placed it between your legs, quiet moans coming out as you rubbed your hips up into it.

Eddie palmed himself and groaned, licking his lips while he looked at where your pussy was meeting the edge of his guitar. He could see your slick smearing against the surface.

“Lick it.” He said, nodding his chin down toward the guitar. “Where my cum is, lick it.”

You nodded and wrapped your hand around its neck, moving your hand up and down slowly in a jerking off motion before laying it flat on the bed and licking where your hands just were- just like you did on his cock.

Eddie’s legs squirmed, spreading wider as he shoved his hands past his waistband and lightly pumped himself, thumb smearing his precum around his tip.

“Gonna jerk off while I watch you, hun.. keep going.” He sighed and bit down on his lip as his eyes stayed trained on your body. Your back was arched and ass in the air, shirt barely covering your skin.

He groaned with his jaw clenched when you licked down the neck and to his cum stain, licking around in circles. His breath was erratic as he stroked faster, eyes trailing over to your half empty glass of water.

He grabbed it with a shaky hand and reached it out to you.

“This too..” He quietly muttered, almost embarrassingly, as he continued to jerk off.

You smirked and grabbed the glass, finishing it off with one big swig before swirling your tongue around the rum and tasting his cum, moaning.

“O-oh my.. f-fucking hell” His whole body stretched out and he slid down the pillows, only half sitting up now. He let his head slack to the side, closing his eyes as he fucked up into his fist.

“Wanna- ahhmmm” Eddie whimpered and gasped for air as he was approaching his orgasm.

“Wanna fuck your throat darlin'… please, please. Need to cum in you.” He sputtered quickly, reaching for you with one hand while he jerked off with the other, his fingers only able to graze your arm.

“Oh.. is pretty body desperate now?” You tilted your head mockingly as he pouted and nodded, scooting up to him and leaning to place your hands on his thighs. You kneaded into his flesh and slid them up to his dick.

You pulled his waistband down and bit your lip, eyes widening when his dick popped out.

“God.. Eddie.” You gasped, hungrily dipping your head down and messily kissing his tip, one of his hands suddenly flying into your hair as he stuttered.

Your lips were all wet and sticky with his precum. He looked down at you, mouth slightly agape as his breath faltered.

Eddie grabbed his dick and pushed the tip harder against your lips, smearing it around like he was putting on lipstick for you.

“I could cum in your lipgloss, huh?” He whispered loud enough for you to hear.

“Look so pretty with it on, baby. Could taste me all day while in school..” He mumbled as he swiped the tip of his cock back and forth against your bottom lip.

You hummed and nodded, sticking your tongue out to lick the fluid off your lip and moaning at the taste. He laughed in pleasure like a mad man.

“Woah-ho-ho… ahh- you're so fucking perfect. My fucking sweetheart, just look at you. Jesus H CHRIST.” He grinned as you flattened your tongue, slapping his cock against it, and lifted his lips up to push it deeper into your mouth.

You closed your lips and gently sucked, your tongue working in slow circles around his swollen leaking head. Saliva began to dribble down his shaft and onto his fingers, coating his big rings and making them shine as he jerked himself into your mouth.

You moved his hand and pushed your head down more, his cock going further into your mouth until it met the back of your throat.

He moaned, head hitting against the wall as his pelvis flexed and his fist tightened in your hair.

“Shit shit shit… you can do it, Princess. Just hold it.” He encouraged you as you gagged and garbled. He knew you were inexperienced. But so was he.

You bobbed your head a few times before pulling away and gasping for air, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Eddie smiled proudly at you, humming as he wiped the tears and pushing you roughly back down.

“Mmm.. took me so well. C’mon, do it again. Proud of you, baby.” He slowly pressed your head down once he was in your mouth again, humming as you wiggled your tongue.

You sucked and licked as deep as you could without gagging for a couple minutes before taking him deeper, craving more praises from him. You held a deep breath as you moved your head back and forth to shove his cock into your throat.

He was about to say something but stopped, only stutters and loud pants pushing past his lips.

Eddie’s fist pulled your head back just a little before pushing it down again, repeating the movements a few times before beginning to fuck your throat. His flushed face was covered in a sheen of sweat, droplets rolling down his temples and into his hair.

As much as you wanted to open your eyes, you couldn’t. You were too focused on taking him as deep as he was pushing you, and flattening your tongue against his shaft. He fucked your throat as he whimpered and breathed erratically, fist shaking in your hair as he got closer to cumming. You moaned around him and gagged.

He pulled a hand up to his face and covered his eyes, scrunching them together as he struggled to hold in his orgasm. You’d only been sucking him off for not even ten minutes and he was already going to bust. He was embarrassed, to say the least. You noticed that he was silent for a moment and pulled off of him, sputtering and gasping as you finally were able to take in air.

"Eddie.." You looked at him with lust filled eyes, wrapping your hand around his cock and stroking him, fingers tightly gripping.

"Where do you wanna cum?" You asked, pushing your face closer to his.

"Here?-" You pointed to your mouth, sticking your tongue out. "- or here?" Then to your pussy.

Eddie looked like he was drunk, his eyes half closed and mouth lazily hanging open.

"I… I wanna fill you up everywhere, baby.." He softly said, sighing in pleasure as you jerked him faster.

"Ahhhh shit… fuck.. Mm, just like that-" He pulled you in for a kiss, licking into your mouth and groaning.

"Your…mouth. You're g-gonna swa- SHIT…" He mewled when you bent down and took his entire length into your mouth, sucking hard and bobbing your head, gargling saliva at the back of your throat as you drooled messily all over his dick.

"I can't.. mmmm- shit. I'm gonna cum."

"Uhhhhuh.. that's g-good. That feels a… w-wow.. amazing. Fuck.. FUCK"

His jaw dropped, eyebrows furrowing as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth, filthy slurping sounds filling his bedroom. You felt his dick harden even more, knowing he was very close. You hummed and moaned, hollowing your mouth a bit and making the lewd sounds louder.

"You're s-so beautiful, so good..taking me so good.. gonna fill you-..mmmm "

"g-gonna feed you my c..-cuhhm- oh shit oh shit Jesus fucking-" A guttural moan bubbled in his throat before it filled the room, incoherent babbling spilling from his lips as he road out his high. His hot cum spilled over your tongue and you immediately swallowed it as it continued to flow into your mouth. His window was open, and you suddenly heard the dog across the way starting to bark.

You sat up and coughed, not used to blow jobs at all, and swallowed a few times to clear your cum filled throat. It was a lot.

Eddie stared at you, his tired dark brown eyes glossed over and unmoving. You looked back and felt a blush creep onto your cheeks. The high had faded, and you were suddenly all too aware that you just had a very intense session of foreplay with your best friend. You were both inexperienced, so this whole thing was kind of intimate to you. You couldn't speak for him, though, and it made your stomach twist with anxiety.

You looked down to his softening cock, pulling his waistband up to cover it. He hissed at the contact, still sensitive from the intense orgasm.

"S-sorry.." You pulled your hands back to your lap.

"No, sweetheart, c'mere.." He held a limp arm out, motioning for you to lay with him.

Eddie's lips pulled into a grin that widened the closer you got to him. He rubbed your arm soothingly when you laid your body against his, propping yourself up on one arm and playing with his hair with the other.

"Pretty girl.." He muttered, lifting a hand and holding your cheek, rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone.

You scrunched your nose and looked away. His gaze was so heavy.

"That was craaazy." He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his face and sighing as he turned his head to look at the ceiling.

You hummed and nodded in agreement, still feeling self conscious. Eddie's eyes flicked over to you when you didn't say anything after a while, eyebrows pinching in concern.

"Hey.. what's up?" He pulled you in with both of his arms so that your chest was pressed into his, your head laying against his tattoo.

"Don't want anything to be weird for us… you know." You mumbled, finger poking at the random freckles on his chest.

He huffed at a laugh and looked at you like you were stupid, pushing hair from your face and pressing into your forehead with his finger.

"Wow. You're dumb. Like, more than me." He blew a raspberry and shook his head, a wide smile returning to his face as he looked at you lovingly.

You smiled and hid your face. It's Eddie.. of course he wouldn't let this ruin your friendship. You couldn't let your nerves take over. You felt dumb, as he said, for even allowing yourself to think so.

Eddie took a deep breath and sat up with you in his arms. He cradled you and bowed his head down, hair curtaining around both of your faces as he rubbed his nose against yours, pecking your lips a couple times before pulling away. You moved off of him before he rolled off the bed. He stretched and groaned, twisting his body around and rolling his shoulders before squinting at the clock on his dresser. His eyes widened.

"Shit! It's 1am!" He put a hand to his head and looked at you in shock. "We were at it for almost 2 fucking hours!?"

You giggled and shrugged, holding a pillow tight to your chest.

"We have to sleep.. got school in the morning and still need to swing by your place in the morning for clothes.." He walked to the edge of his bed to fix the pillows, head still shaking in disbelief at the time.

Eddie gave you a glass of water and a clean towel so you could clean yourself off, slapping your ass before you slid into the bathroom. He prepared his stuff for the following morning and shut off the TV.

Once you were both tucked into his bed he set his morning alarm and stole a few glances at you. You were in deep thought as you looked at the posters on his walls, head resting against his pillows. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his face into your neck. Instead, he turned off the light and silently laid beside you.

"Sweetheart…" He whispered, toes wiggling against your foot.

"Hm?"

He was silent for a moment.

". . . I'm hungry."

"Eddie. Go to sleep." You groaned and laughed into the pillow.

He dramatically whined and kicked his feet before turning on his side. It was silent for about twenty minutes and you were sure he was asleep, until he silently scooted himself backwards so you were pressed into his back. You smiled to yourself, warmth spreading inside your chest. You leaned your head into his shoulder blade and fell asleep shortly after.

🖤

Taglist:

@brainwashedkitten

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petpenname · 8 months ago

Text

Heartache

pairing: Ellie Williams [brother's best friend] x fem reader c.w. : smoking summary: you have had your eyes on your brother's best friend and band member forever, but you'd never think she would actually talk to you? a/n: this was a submission + I'll make more parts if it gets a good response!

The air in your room hangs heavy with humidity. A slight breeze from your open window blows through, fluttering your various posters and decor hanging on your walls. And over you, sprawled across your bed, flipping through social media, you were honestly bored out of your mind. Three weeks into summer and your closest friend was away for vacation, leaving you alone… and bored.

Cycling through your socials again you get fed up with the lack of entertainment and toss your phone on the floor with an exacerbated sigh. You lay on your bed, wondering what you should do to fill the void of dopamine when the sound of music begins to fill the house. A mixture of rock, indie, and midwest emo songs rang out from your garage, conveniently positioned directly under your room.

Your brother's band got around to practicing, you assumed. You didn’t even realize your brother was home, he had gone out earlier this morning after your parents left for work. The music got louder and you suddenly had an idea of what you wanted to do, and it wasn't staying here and listening to your brother's shitty garage band. You gather your sketchbook, some pens, headphones, and a few other things into a bag, throw on a hoodie and a pair of shoes and head downstairs. You were headed to a river spot in the woods near your house. It was a commonly frequented spot by you, and your friends but not known to many. Perfect for a little seclusion and wading in cool water.

You walk down stairs and almost instantly are hit with the strong earthy smell of smoke. You linger for a second and decide that your trip would be improved with a joint, hoping your brother would front you something, you enter the loud garage.

Your brother and his band mates, all two of them, were unaware of your entrance. They were playing as loud as possible (maybe not as well as possible) but they were producing sound! Your brother slamming away on the drums while the guitarist, and bassist/singer were in their own worlds.

“Hey!” you yell over the trio.

“HEY KAI!” You shout once more at your brother. Who, without skipping a beat or stopping, yells back.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

This got the attention of the other two band members who did stop upon seeing you standing there, amps silencing to white noise feedback.

“Can I get a joint?” you ask.

“You got money for a joint?” Kai laughs.

“Can you just front me one?” you reply back flatly

“Why should I?”

“If you give me one I wont tell mom you were smoking in the house again.” You counter.

“It’s the garage so technically not the house and whatever you know they wont do anything”

“She can have one of mine?” a voice sparks up behind Kai, drawing your attention to the guitarist. A girl named Ellie. She and Kai had been longtime friends and bandmates. You barely knew anything about her other than she was in Kai’s grade, one above yours, but you knew her. You knew her eye color, her favorite flannel she wore a little too often. You knew she got a new guitar last year, and a fresh tattoo this year that shined under the garage light as she held up a joint in your direction.

You also knew that this was one of the only times she had ever spoken to you. Not like you were around each other often but you almost felt like she would try to avoid you when she was over. Shocked, but with adrenaline pumping you took your chance, walking over to Ellie. She still had her guitar hanging around her, flannel sleeves rolled up, her hair was a bit disheveled from playing, strands falling out of her half up hair do.

She hands you the joint with a sideways smile, and her eyes glint a bit.

“Thanks, you’re so much nicer than my brother” you scoff, giving her a smile back. You turn to leave, flipping off Kai as you bound out the door, leaving the band members commotion in the garage. Not seeing Kai chuck a drumstick at Ellie who dodges it with a laugh.

The success of getting a joint over shined the butterflies fluttering in your stomach from that look she gave you. The sun hit your face as you got outside and you were only looking forward to your solo date in the forest.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting slowly, but from where you were in the woods shade had taken over your spot. You had smoked, worked on your art, and walked along the water looking for rocks. Hanging out in the forest for a few hours always rejuvenated you in a way you couldn’t explain. But you started to get cold and decided now was a good time to head home. While packing up you realized you had pretty bad cotton mouth from the joint, so you planned to stop by the corner store.

It wasn’t a long walk but by the time you got to the corner store it was dusk. Street lights started sparking up like stars in the night sky. You opened the glass door and walked in, perusing the aisles for any snack or drink that could satiate your munchies. You were contemplating between an iced tea or a soda when the doorbell rang as someone walked in the store. You barely noticed the bell, or the girl walking up behind you until she spoke.

“Did you enjoy your smoke?”

You jump, previously lost in your thoughts, you turn around to see Ellie standing there. She was wearing a hoodie now, her guitar in its case strapped to her back.

“Oh my god you scared me!” you say, almost dropping the bottles in your hands.

“Sorry! Didn't mean to!” Ellie laughs, moving around you to open the fridge door next to you and grab a coke. “Funny running into you here” she says, a little awkward you note.

“I mean my house is only a few blocks away,” you laugh.

“Mm ya i guess so, you getting both of those?” Ellie looks down at the bottles in your hand.

“Oh um, I'm getting this one.” you hold up the iced tea & go to put back the soda. Before you could think Ellie takes the iced tea from your hand and starts walking towards the front of the store.

“Hey wait!” you look at her confused.

“Oh do you want something else princess?” Ellie turns back to look at you with a smirk.

Sparks ignite in your stomach, confused but now flustered, your mind swirling. You finally get a word out, “no, just that” and Ellie turns back to walk towards the cash register.

You follow her, not really knowing what to do or how to act. Ellie and you had barely spoken to each other before this. And now she's acting so casually around you, and what did she call you? Everything happened so fast you barely caught it but reflecting back now, did she call you princess?

Ellie pays for the two drinks and you walk out together, taking your ice tea from her once outside.

“Thank you, you didn't have to do that” you say, unscrewing the top and taking a refreshing sip.

“Don't mention it” Ellie says, “So are you going back home now?”

“Mhm yeah, what about you?”

“Yeah I was, but it's getting dark now, i’ll walk you back home first” Ellie says with a smile.

“Who said chivalry was dead” you joke, it was a nice gesture, as much as you were confused by Ellie’s sudden intentions you couldn’t help but feel a type of way when she looked at you. Her green eyes danced over your face like she was memorizing your features. You wondered if she always looked at you this way?

She had. Ellie for the past few years had been keeping such a distance from you because when you were around she felt her whole body tense up. She felt like she was on fire if you looked in her direction. And god help her if she tried to speak around you, she ended up tripping over her words and losing her train of thought. Truthfully, she didn't know what magical queer fairy blessed her with the confidence to talk to you today. But she had taken in a chance earlier in the garage, and when she saw you in the store she knew it wasn't a coincidence.

The walk back to your house was short, only a few blocks. You and Ellie joke together and talk about summer plans in the meantime. Both of you slightly high still, making your balance shifty, occasionally you would brush shoulders, sending sparks down each other's spines.

When you get to your house you stop at the walk way, a little awkwardly since you knew Ellie had been in your house before.

“Thanks for walking me home! And buying me this, um and the joint '' you say, taking in all of Ellie’s courtesy today, a little unsure what to do with yourself.

“Any time!” Ellie says with a smile, she fidgets where she stands for a second before reaching her hand up to your face. She tucks a small strand of hair behind your ear, without breaking eye contact.

“Have a good night y/n” and with that she turns around and walks away, putting up her hood.

She left you solidified on the sidewalk, body unmoving but nerves on fire with a simple touch. You float for the next hour or so, barely registering going into your house and up to your room. Trying to make sense of what had just happened, and why now? And why so suddenly?

Later that night you receive a notification on Instagram

* @www.ellie followed you *

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #the last of us

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lushaletta · 8 months ago

Note

I have a question??? Could you do Fred Weasley x older sister Potter reader who's he's friends with and like headcanons of their relationship please and thank you

in good hands / fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

content: mild swearing, older sister potter!reader

summary: being harry potter’s older sister is difficult. you hate watching your little brother get hurt both physically and emotionally, but fred happens to be a great protector.

a/n: MY FRED WEASLEY DEBUT!! george is my fav but fred is so arghghghgh hot. anywayyyy tysm for this request and i’m sorry i didn’t follow it to a t!! i was originally gonna do headcanons as requested but i kinda got in the zone… i do kinda like this pairing though so i may end up doing hcs eventually anyway! also my bad for this taking FOREVER i’ve been madly busy… love u folks

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Harry comes running into your room, soaked with both rain water and agitation. His broom is immediately tossed to the side and you can’t help but be concerned— you have a feeling you know what this is going to be about, and it’s not the first time.

“Harry?”

“So sick of it! I only try to help, you know? To make things better and no one ever gives a fuck! No gratitude or even kindness, after everything I’ve done.” Your face softens as he inches towards you, even being careful not to get your bed wet with his clothing.

“They’re still mad at you for losing the game? Are you serious?” You’re completely furious. Harry’s had the world on his shoulders since forever and his entire life is a tragedy. He can’t even play a school sport without being reamed for something that’s hardly his fault.

Peeling his jersey off, he crawls into your side and waits for your affection; the only thing he can count on when the world isn’t on his side.

“I tried to fix things, you know? Told Fletcher I was sorry but they’re still pissed, calling me a freak and saying all this crap about Voldemort.” You shush him and cradle his face in your arms. Your heart is breaking because how could anyone treat your baby brother like this, how could anyone see him as something less than precious?

His eyes shimmer but not with the sparkle of joy. They’re teary. “Fuck ‘em all. They’ll come around, Harry. They do eventually.”

It’s not fair what they do to him. He’ll mess something up and half the time it’s out of his control, and suddenly he’s public enemy number one. You’re usually there to help, and so are his friends like Hermione and Ron, but it can’t always be like this.

He’s okay after a while. You amp up the jokes and ruffle his hair and he’s okay. He has dinner with his group and you with yours. It’s a nice evening and all you can do is hope he’s forgetting everything wrong with the world. It seems like he is, because he’s tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth while Ron is laughing hysterically and Hermione is resting her hand on a judgemental expression.

“Oi, Weasley!” you say, and Fred whips his head towards you. “I’ve got something to ask. A favour.”

He perks up. You were asking him for a favour. He’s been waiting for his in since forever, but he wouldn’t let you know that. “Yeah?” he replies, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

A quick breath escapes your lips as you lean on him, lashes fluttering and a little grin settled on your face. He can look at you trying to be all persuasive without blushing. He’s stronger than this.

“How about.. you and George look after Harry? I’ve been worried about him, with the whole dementor thing. And after what happened last game, I can’t just sit from the stands and watch him get injured again knowing I didn’t do anything about it. Everyone’s pissed at him.”

Fred softens. His mind races, trying to come up with the cons of the request. He comes up empty. This was an excuse to talk to you more and, well, he already quite liked Harry, so that was no issue. And with your convincing doe eyes, how could he refuse?

He’s taking too long to respond and he knows it, but he can’t stop staring at your pretty face. You clear your throat, prodding for an answer. “Huh? Oh, yeah. The lad’s gonna be in good hands, m’lady,” he winks.

The roll of your eyes makes him smile. “Better make sure of it, Weasley.”

And to shut you up, he shoves a grape between your lips and you smack him across the arm.

From then on, Fred and George made sure no one got in Harry’s way. Someone messed with him, they messed with them. The twins were 190 and a half centimetres of beater strength and poking the bear was on no one’s to-do list, so Harry was pretty much set. Well, not entirely.

All Harry really wants to do is sit down and catch up on the pile of homework he’s missed for Chosen One duties, but some people take that as being haughty.

“Potter. You and your godforesaken hero complex. You think you’re untouchable? What’ll happen if I sock you in the face, huh? You think magic will—“

“Fuck around and find out.”

Finnick Lewis turns around. He immediately backtracks. “Hey, listen, man, I don’t want any trouble.” Fred didn’t miss the nasty glare that Lewis sent Harry on his way out. He’d take care of that one later.

The boy doesn’t really know what’s just happened or why, but he’ll take whatever he can get and he’ll be grateful for it. He mumbles out a thank you before scrambling to his room.

You’d seen Fred’s effort in protecting your brother. He’d done a damn good job at it too, because Harry hadn’t complained much about students in weeks. You’re glad you at least took that load off his shoulders.

“Tell you what, Weasley,” you say nonchalantly, unwrapping a chocolate.

He hums. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and he’s trying to finish up an essay. Lupin likes him just fine, but he’s definitely a tough grader.

“If you can make sure Harry’s perfectly uninjured after the next game, I’ll give you a kiss.”

Who cares about Lupin? Fred looks up at you instantly, suddenly feeling the velvet of the chair on his skin. “I’ll totally bite. How many seconds?”

You snort. “The kiss?” He nods. “3 seconds. 5 if I’m feeling generous.”

The essay is forgotten just like that.

The man moved the moon and sun to ensure Harry’s safety on his watch. Lewis and Fletcher had their tails between their legs after a few careful threats and actions to back them up, and Harry felt good. Safe. That’s all that mattered.

Monday arrives and the Quidditch stands are a sea of red and green with Gryffindor particularly antsy as Harry zooms around the pitch, Golden Snitch right within his view but not quite arms reach.

“Potter’s got his eye on the prize! I’ve got mine on too, Johnson looks impeccable in robes, I’ll tell you that much— Sorry, Professor.”

Fred’s holding his own, watching out for any foul play from the Slytherin Seeker whilst batting Bludgers. George is at his side, throwing them out and scoring right into Flint’s stomach.

“Wonderful play from Weasley! Not quite sure which one, but great nonetheless,” Lee says through the megaphone.

Fred’s just about to hit a Bludger into the opposing Keeper’s side, but he spots Harry in the corner of his eye being tailed by Higgs and there’s a nasty Slytherin Bludger coming right for him and he’s flying there immediately.

Harry’s so pumped with adrenaline and focus on the Snitch, he doesn’t even notice the ball coming straight to his nose. Godric knows that would leave a mark. Fred comes up and bats it away, nearly falling off his broom.

You’re watching from the stands in admiration and excitement and Fred can’t help but find you in the crowd. He sends you a wink from the pitch and a girl beside you seems to think it’s for her. You let it happen. You know who it belonged to.

Gryffindor emerges victorious, winning by two points and Harry’s crowd surfing, a big smile on his face as students chant his name. He doesn’t know how long the fame will last, but he doesn’t really care.

“You did good, Weasley,” you admit as Fred comes up beside you.

“Think I deserve my kiss now?”

In typical you fashion, you roll your eyes and pull him towards your face.

He thinks the kiss will be haste, but you melt into his lips and he does the very same. His arms snake around your waist and bring you impossibly closer and you relish in it. It’s embarrassing how much you’re grinning, but you can feel his smile too.

Catching your breath, “That was like 30 seconds. Now you gotta help Harry with his homework.”

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fluff #weasley twins fanfiction #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley imagine #weasley twins

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orchidyoonkook · 3 months ago

Text

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 8

Title: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You're just there to help JK with his final project, so why are you being doused in water, facepaint and smoke? Art. Art is why.

Warnings: T, language, fluff, angst, honestly this one's kinda wholesome and fun, some photogrpahy jargin in there, but nothing a quick google search can't fix if you really need to <3, it's mostly surface level jargin. Also the smoke machine works cuz JK has great ventilation due to the massive windows being open, so don't worry bout that XD, some light and fun name calling, some world building. Ask if you need clarification on anything. That's all I think!

Word Count: 11,684

Release Date: September 1, 2024. 4:30PM

A/N 1: Surprise! Happy JK Day.

PJK [7:36pm]: Saturday afternoon. my place. 11am. PJK [7:36pm]: bring an extra set of clothes, something warm. Sweats if you have them. PJK [7:37pm]: also, Im gunna need your shirt size

The first three weeks of November have flown by and dragged on at the same time.

The weather’s getting colder. You need a thick jacket if you want to be anywhere outside, and all leaves have fallen from the trees, leaving pines the only ones left with their winter coats on. Hot chocolate from greenhouse cafe has become part of your life’s blood so you don’t freeze, and gloves with pocket warmers inside them are once again a part of your everyday.

But November skies have returned. And you frequently set up camp on the drying grass beside the greenhouse, dressing your canvas with oil paint to their likeness as it’s the only paint that doesn’t dry the second it’s out of the tube in the cold, static air.

Jungkook told you earlier in the week the shoot would most likely be this weekend, and that he just had a few final strings to pull together before being able to confirm. So with that in mind, you intentionally tried to finish all your work before this weekend, knowing the shoot will take a while to complete.

He mentioned it may leak over into Sunday depending on how much you get done on the first day, which is fine with you considering you usually spend Sunday evenings at his place anyway. You’d consider it an extended edition of your regularly scheduled broadcast.

And speaking of regularly scheduled, you haven’t missed a single movie night since Nel left. Granted, it’s only been three weeks, but even missing the two you did because of Nel had made an impact.

You’d gotten so used to them, having that time to destress and unwind before the week starts. A nice little routine that helps reset you both mentally and physically.

Suddenly not having that was…a weird feeling you try not to remember.

And you are more than happy to never miss another one ever again.

You aren’t sure what Jungkook tells Adaline he’s doing during movie night, but she’s never interrupted you, not even once. And it’s something you are increasingly grateful for, because she is one of the things you destress from as your unspoken rivalry always amps up the closer to exam season you get.

It’s Thursday evening, and you’re in your room finishing up a Microeconomics 3 assignment while piano music plays on a speaker in the corner. You use it to help you focus, and it’s working its magic as you’re finishing your work in record time.

Music has always helped you work better, and you credit it largely with how you’ve been able to keep up with everything in your schooling.

Yuri’s in her room, doing homework as well you assume. Or maybe texting Tai—the dreamy, big dicked Ilcalos island Count—you swear she’s only put her phone down for sleep and showering, as she’s constantly checking to see if he’s messaged her. And you hope it turns out well for them, Yuri deserves someone who treats her well. Especially after the whole Jungkook debacle—which you’re not allowed to bring up—and then the poor rebound you aren’t allowed to talk about either. You’re just happy she’s finally found someone worth her time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot Jungkook a text back.

You [7:40pm]: okay! saturday at 11 sounds good. I’ll bring sweats and warm socks

You message him your shirt size too, curious as to what he’ll use it for, but you’re sure you’ll find out in due time. You always do.

Subject to many of his homework assignments, you’ve been posed and lit and adjusted every which way.

Jungkook is incredibly professional when you’re with him as a model. Light touches to correct posing, always with a ‘may I’ before he does, and he fills the room with kind words, good vibes, and fun music so you never feel awkward.

At first you were really iffy on the whole idea when he first asked in September, because it would be the prince of your nation photographing little ol’ you. You weren’t anything special—yet—and you’re still never one for being in the spotlight, or for being on camera. At all. But if it was just for homework, and you were helping out a friend…you figured why not?

It helped that all of your worries immediately faded when you saw the results of that first shoot.

An email from a very non-princely email address found its way into your inbox. The subject was the date of the shoot, and the only message inside being:

thanks. Hope you like them.

Let’s do it again sometime.

-J

When you opened the attachments you made a quick dive to catch the phone that fell from your hands in shock.

You looked…beautiful. Like you never had in pictures before. Not in school, or at graduation, not even in the ones you took of yourself.

You didn’t know you were capable of looking like that.

Like how he saw you. Captured you.

And you’ll never admit you’ve held your chin a little higher with every shoot since.

They make you feel powerful, attractive. More confident, and sure of yourself, as if you were always meant to be in front of a camera. Like you’d been in front of one since before you could walk.

They do that for you.

He…does that for you—with his pictures, of course.

Jungkook is very talented. Very skilled with his camera, and you find yourself looking forward to the concepts he comes up with every time. Trusting him and whatever his vision is wholeheartedly.

Though a small, immature piece of you is also pleased he still wants you to model, and not Adaline. That he finds you easier to work with over her.

Your competitive streak never fails to come out, even with the smallest, secretive things.

Take that Adaline.

You gladly help him out with his homework, and he does the same for you.

If you ever need a male reference or a profile study. Anatomy practice, features practice, likeness practice. Anything and almost everything, all you have to do is ask, and he sits still or places whatever you need in front of you while you sketch.

Hands, however, have always been a personal favourite of yours.

They’re one of those things that can be drawn a hundred different ways and never look the same. Always a new position you can put them in. Consistently able to shake things up. And one set is never like the others—like eyes. There’s little differences in all of them and that’s where their magic lies.

You do these studies at the greenhouse, it has the best light to shadow ratio. When you ask him for one, he’ll switch to working with one hand, while the other does whatever you tell it. Normally either placed on your table or if there isn’t enough room, which nine times out of ten there isn’t because of all your supplies, you stick your foot on the lower metal frame of his table and he rests his arm, wrist or palm on your up bent knee.

Due to this, you’ve unintentionally come to find out that his hands are very strong, very calloused, and very, very warm…

Also! Aside from hand studies, you love loose figure studies because they’re great warm up sketches. And what Jungkook doesn't know is that you have dozens of warm up sketches of him. Doesn’t know you sneak pictures here and there when you can, hiding them in a hidden album on your phone entitled ‘hmwk screenshots.’ And he definitely doesn’t know that when he’s sitting at the cafe, nose deep in assignments, you doodle his features or his outfit in real time.

A nose here, a jacket there. A muscular forearm covered in tattoos also tends to find its way onto your page every so often.

He’s got a good physique. And the ridges make for excellent anatomy practice. So does the intricate line work of tattoos, and fabric rippling. Especially in drastic lighting. Consistency is key in maintaining and improving your work and it’s not like any of these sketches will ever see the light of day anyways.

They’re just, well…practice.

A sigh escapes you, and you refocus on finishing your microecon work. You still have two more assignments to get done before Saturday at eleven.

“And why are you working with some random girl when I’m available, again?” Adaline asks. She’s currently sitting on Jungkook's couch in your spot. He’s setting up tomorrow's materials against the big white wall by the floor length windows that showcase his balcony.

It’s why he chose to live here instead of in the dorms or on campus. His place isn’t enormous, like most people would think, it has enough room for everything a regular student needs: bedroom, kitchen, workspace, living room, bathroom, even a guest room. But the one thing he keeps different is the big white wall where a dining room would normally be.

Jungkook’s place has high ceilings, 10 feet tall, which is higher than the average but not excessive. And the wall that connects his kitchen to the balcony is a perfect mock studio. He can even keep all his equipment there; lights, gels, backgrounds, tubs full of props, camera cases, lenses, and more all stored in neat shelving against another wall.

“Because students volunteered for extra credit, and she’s who was assigned to me,” a small lie, one he was sure that Adaline wouldn’t dig into too deeply.

“Why didn’t you tell me I could volunteer?”

“Because you didn’t need the extra credit?”

She pouts, and goes back to her phone.

Adaline also doesn’t know it’s you he’s photographing and that is one hundred percent intentionally planned by him.

He could sense something between you two after you made that one comment after fall break. He notices now how you stiffen slightly every time he mentions Adaline, and the one time he mentioned you in passing to test the waters, Adaline changed the conversion topic almost immediately. A look of annoyance, or maybe even insecurity in her eyes.

So he’s been lucky that Adaline has never wanted to see any of his schoolwork prior to or after the singular shoot he did with her.

Lucky she hasn’t seen your face fill up his screen constantly.

And extremely lucky that she doesn’t know about the hidden folder buried deep in his desktop labeled ‘eqpmt rcpts’ filled with dozens of candid shots of you.

To be fair, you don’t know about them either. They’re random, shots taken every now and then where he thought you looked happy, focused, or just existing. True candids of the most candid person he knew.

It started that day with his first assignment from Professor Hirmer. He’d taken those quick pictures of you painting, and then simply never stopped.

He has pictures of you in the courtyard, walking and talking to Yuri, you smiling. He has some he took on his phone when you’re over for movie night, invested in the film or talking to him. And a bunch of you painting at the greenhouse. It’s hard to take secret candids when he’s right beside you, but he manages seeing as you haven't caught him yet.

He even has a few of you and Nel, love clearly written on your face in every single one of them.

Whenever he spots you before you spot him, and he has his camera on him, he takes a couple.

They’ve amassed into a healthy sum, but he thinks of it as a harmless habit as no one will ever know. And it’s not like he’s following you around to take them or using them for anything nefarious.

He just likes taking your picture. Capturing your spirit, your candor.

Your realness.

You are wholly yourself, always, no holding back, all of the time.

And to him, it feels like coming up for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey!” you say as you let yourself into Jungkook’s apartment. You’d knocked but no one answered and it was currently 10:56am on Saturday, so you knew he was here. Plus, his door was unlocked.

“Jungkook?” you call.

No answer.

You take your shoes off after closing the door and locking it. He should really keep his door locked.

Very quickly become best friends with the couch, you toss your backpack of warm clothes on the floor while you wait for him to make an appearance.

There’s shoot equipment everywhere; lights in the corner, some with soft boxes on them, gels laid out on the coffee table, and what you’ve come to learn is a lens case sits on the couch beside you in Jungkook's usual spot.

Jungkook has also somehow managed to find some small trees in blue ceramic pots and what you’re pretty sure is a smoke machine.

But the most peculiar thing is what looks to be a kiddie pool up against the wall with a folded tarp at its base.

Well that's…interesting…

You hear a door open somewhere in the apartment and running water.

“Jungkook? That you?”

“Hey! Yep. Just give me a sec, I’m almost done.”

The water sounds cease and Jungkook makes his grand entrance as he turns the corner holding a large watering can. Your eyebrow raises.

“For the trees?” you ask.

“What?”

You point to the watering can currently making his veins pop.

He laughs, “Oh! No. This is for later. You’ll see,” and walks to the other side of the room by the pool.

“Aren’t we mysterious today,” you say, following him with your eyes. He’s in ripped black jeans that accentuate the muscle definition of his thighs, and a matching baggy shirt. When his back is turned you snap a quick picture. The fabric folds on his baggy shirts are some of your favourite mindless things to cool down sketch.

“Nah, just focused. We have a lot to get through today.” He sets down the watering can and you can see the moment the switch flips from friend to photographer. “The guest room is ready for you. There’s a clothing rack inside with each look labeled. There’s also makeup and face paint, if you could bring out the make up after you're done changing, that would be great. We’re gonna start with ‘Bright and Bold’, okay?”

You usually use the spare room as a change room when you have to switch clothes for a shoot. But they were always from your own closet. He’d tell you the concept he was going for and you’d bring a few options to choose from.

Makeup you were used to, though. Jungkook loves abusing your artistic abilities for his shoots in the way you decorate your face or body, saying they make his works a level up from the rest of his classmates.

They also usually make for some of the coolest pictures you have of yourself.

This is the first time he’s ever bought clothing, though.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, this being his final assignment for an important class, and him being as serious as he is about his work and the final product. But you can't help it, you’re excited to see everything he’s chosen for the shoot.

For you.

For the shoot.

“Yep, sounds good. Be out in a few,” you reply. He nods in acknowledgement before moving to set something up and you don’t stick around to find out, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door lined hall.

The guest room is modest and clean. White sheets and gray comforter with, surprisingly, two throw pillows to spruce it up. The walls are white too, but you’re pretty sure that’s because Jungkook’s not allowed to paint the apartment per his landlord's wishes—a thought that still makes you laugh.

He could buy any place he wanted, but chose to rent. ‘To get the real university experience,’ he explained when you asked him the first time you went over.

Black furniture accents the room. A comfortable looking leather chair sits in the corner by a glass door that leads to the balcony. It has a small table beside it. There’s a dresser with a mirror in the other corner and of course, in the center of the room, is the bed. It’s a nice room. However, the newest edition is what’s keeping your eye.

Four shirts hang from the rack at the foot of the bed. The first is vibrant and colourful, the second a light neutral short sleeved V neck, third is strapless and skin coloured, and the last is made from thin black fabric you assume will be skin tight by the looks of it.

As promised, they’re all labeled with a sticker.

You throw your bag on the bed and grab the colourful one first. Its sticker says ‘bright and bold,’ and you put it on after removing the shirt you came in, then zip it up. The material feels heavy, durable and expensive. You check the tag on the inside seam and see it’s from Ilkaya, one of the biggest and most expensive fashion designers on this side of the realm.

Your eyes bug out of your head, and you try not to breathe too hard for fear of ruining it. Your routine of thrifting all your clothes makes you pretty damn sure you can’t even imagine how much this cost.

It feels good though, comfortable, not itchy. Really freaking expensive.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you have to admit you look amazing. It fits perfectly in all the right places, compliments your skin tone, and even brings out your eyes. Begrudgingly, you admit to yourself that maybe there’s some sense in what the price tag could be. But it would still be a ridiculous sum for a jacket.

With one last look in the mirror, you grab the palettes, brushes and other tools off the dresser, and leave your designated dressing room for the day in favour of returning to the living room.

Jungkook’s got music going from your shared playlist. Insisting on making one after your second shoot together, when he decided you both agreed to the arrangement becoming a regular thing. It’s a good mix of both of your musical tastes, even though you guys figured out quickly that you liked pretty similar stuff anyway.

“What do you think? Does it work?” You ask as you turn the corner.

Jungkook fiddles with this camera before looking and pausing for a moment to take you in. You hope you look okay, but the weird look he has on his face makes you backtrack a bit.

“Is this not the one you wanted? It had the label on it. But I can go back and double che- ”

“You look amazing,” is all he says, and your worry slides off you instantly. He smiles wide, the one you’ve come to recognize as genuine.

“Thanks. But the colour’s doing most of the work for me,” you say, smiling back shyly.

He has a white background set up, and two differently coloured gel’d lights sit on opposite one another, a third, smaller floor light faces the background. A backlight, he’d call it.

Bright and Bold indeed, though there is the matter of-

“What do you want me to do for my make up?”

“Actually,” he sets down his camera gently on a table, “Is it okay if I do it? I want it to be a little more on the amateur side and I don’t think your years of refined talent would let you get the exact look I want.”

That’s new. But you're here to stand and look however he wants you too, so you allow him with a nod.

“Sure, where do you want me to sit?”

“Here’s fine,” he says as he pulls a stool that was off to one side close to one of the windows. “As long as you don’t mind holding the make up. I don’t have a table to set them down on. Should’ve thought of that, sorry.”

You can tell he’s mentally scolding himself for forgetting something.

“No no, it’s fine,” you say, taking your seat, “I don’t mind, really.”

Placing the balls of your feet on the bar that holds the chair legs together, you make your lap even enough to set the palettes out, and use a hand to hold all the brushes.

Jungkook laughs, noticing your feet as you sit, “Cute socks.”

They’re light blue with a fox face on them, and little ears stick up from the elastic around the ankle.

“Thanks,” you laugh too, they’re your favourite pair. “I call them my fox socks. They’re lucky.”

“Let’s hope so. Wish me luck fox socks,” he calls to your toes, and you wiggle them in response.

He picks a brush and chooses a colour. “Close your eyes and let me know if I’m pressing too hard. If it isn’t obvious, I’ve never done this before.”

You close your eyes and whisper, “Will do.”

It's a uniquely intimate experience having your makeup done. Willingly letting someone get up close and personal with you, allowing them to see every potential scar, blemish and pore in the name of beauty and for the sake of creativity.

In this case, it’s also a little questionable considering where you feel the brush putting down colour: cheeks, lids, temple, nose. However, you’re simply a pawn in a well thought out plan, so you sit and wait for him to finish.

“Annnd done,” he says, making a final swipe with the brush on your cheek. “You look great! I didn’t hurt you, right?” he asks, showing you the makeup in a palettes mirror. Your face looks like it’s been attacked by a rainbow in the best way. You smile, taking the mirror from him and looking at all the little details.

For a first timer, Jungkook did a really good job.

“Nope, I’m good. How do you want me?”

Jungkook leads you to the backdrop, placing you in front.

“One second,” he says, grabbing a remote and clicking a button to lower the black out curtains on the windows, and then another that turns off the apartment lights. He also clicks on all the lights he’s set up and you’re quickly illuminated by a bright red and purple as well as the back light.

“I’m good to pose?” he asks.

“Yep.”

You love that he always asks first. It makes you feel safe and considered, consenting to every touch prior to its occurrence.

Jungkook instructs the first pose to have your hands on the sides of your face, making slight adjustments so that you don’t cover any of the makeup. And for the first time, his touches leave little sparks where they land.

You’re sure it’s just because of the lights or that the shirt is thick and makes you warm.

Or maybe you’re just nervous and need to get the first photo jitters out of your system.

Soon enough, the camera’s pointing at you and you smile the brightest you can. He’s given you the prompt of ‘you’re so excited and happy you can’t hold it in,’ and you work with it the best you can, taking the first few with the pose he gave before being given full reign.

It’s a decent way into the first shoot when Jungkook says, “Hmm…we’re not quite there yet, I need a bit more,” and follows up with, “How about ‘you’ve just been commissioned by the Modern Art Museum to have the leading showcase for next year’.”

You smile the biggest you think you ever have at the thought. Because that’s the dream, that is the biggest goal you could achieve. An entire gallery of your work as the primary exhibition in the Western Shores Modern Art Museum? You couldn’t go any higher. It’s every artist's dream.

“There you go! That’s it!” The camera’s capturing quickly as you imagine what it would be like to have your own showcase at the WS-MAM. Incredible is the first word that comes to mind, your work in the biggest museum on the continent? You can’t even imagine, but you want to.

One day, you promise yourself. You’ll do it one day.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, breaking your daydream, “Let me switch out the gels for new colours and go again. These are great so far though, you're doing amazing.”

You hold your hand out for a high five and he smacks it. “Go team!” you say, and he laughs.

An hour and a half, a makeup fix and three lighting changes later, the first shoot finishes. You collapse on the couch and rub the muscles on your thighs.

Jungkook plops down beside you, nose deep in the pictures he’s just taken, double checking everythings good.

“This is a fantastic start, I hope we can keep it up all day and finish before tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you say, and you mean it. Shoots with him are always fun, but inevitably tiring. “I’m gonna to grab a water, want one?”

“Yes please,” he replies without looking up.

In the kitchen, you open the fridge to grab the two bottles and notice a box, stamped with a coffee mug that has a greenhouse inside of it, on top. The greenhouse cafe’s logo.

“Can I ask what’s inside the cafe box?” you ask as you sit back on the couch and pass him a bottle.

“Ah, caught red handed,” he says, setting his camera on the table and taking a swig. “I may have asked Vivan earlier this week to make sure there was an overstock of tarts so I could grab them for you as a thank you for today.”

...Oh

That’s so sweet. He’s never gotten you a thank you gift before, especially not in the form of the most delicious pastry to ever exist. Maybe you should get him something for all the times he’s helped you with homework? A solstice gift maybe?

There’s heat forming in your chest and you really hope it’s not the beginning stages of heartburn. Maybe Jungkook has antacids.

“You didn’t have to do that, I’m happy to help.”

“So you don’t want them then?” his shit eating grin making a glorious comeback because he knows what your answer’s going to be.

“No! I want them. I most definitely want them.”

He chuckles and puts his water down.

“Okay Donatello, glad you accept. Let's move on to the next set up. There’s makeup remover and cotton pads in the room, and some moisturizer too if you need it.”

The next shoot is called ‘Regality,’ and it has you in the strapless shirt. You find out it’s quite a low cut when you put it on. There’s enough to cover you, but there’s definitely a lot of your chest showing. However, under the shirt on the hanger is a scarf to cover yourself with, which you think is very considerate.

“Makeup?” you ask as you come out again, scarf covering you.

“Neutral, but strong. Kind of like how my mother does,” the background is still white, but you have a hunch that it will remain white in this picture, unlike the last one. “This one is going to be black and white, so try to emphasize your natural beauty.”

You ignore that he essentially just said you're beautiful, surely he’s just being kind and professional. Making sure his model feels good about herself.

Right?

Right.

You put on a coat of mascara and go light on the shadow so it won't be too dramatic on film. You also use a shade of lipstick that adds just a tint to your lips and a blush that makes your eyes pop.

Jungkook has you sit on the stool from earlier and faces your body three quarters of the way towards the camera, but keeps your head turned in profile.

“Oh! Almost forgot, one second,” Jungkook jogs to his room, coming back with a palm sized velvet box. “I had my mother send these over for this shoot. She has better taste than me, so I let her pick them out.”

Your stomach plummets to the floor when he opens the box.

Inside are two dangling diamond earrings, and quite possibly the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

And now you’re terrified.

“Jungkook, I can't wear those. They look like they’re worth more than my house, my car and my tuition combined.”

He takes one out and places it in your hand for you to put in, it’s the length of your index finger. And all you can think about is the potential houses you’re holding as you look at it.

It’s a semi-rectangular earring, encrusted with four columns of diamonds that cascade down, each column longer than the previous. Like a sparkling waterfall you can attach to your ear.

“Don’t worry about it, mum said she never wears them anyway because they’re part of a set that the necklace was lost to years ago. Please,” his face is nothing but reassurance and small smiles, “You’re giving them a chance to live again.”

You couldn't say no to those eyes even if you wanted to.

So you reply, almost breathless and still against your better judgment, “Okay.”

Placing them in one after the other, they have a significant, understandable weight to them. You take a couple deep breaths so you don't freak out, and then you return to your previously designated pose, profile set, body facing the camera.

“Can I adjust?” Jungkook asks, after taking a step back and getting a wider view.

You nod gently, still terrified of the earrings.

He makes sure the earring is visible and untangled first, before a finger gently comes beneath your chin, and lifts it a bit higher.

The feeling they leave behind is all you can think about as you stare at your place on the wall, Jungkook snapping away. Not even the soft light illuminating your profile is enough to make you blink.

This shoot goes by quickly, and you’re relieved to get the earrings back safely inside their box.

“It’s like 2:45, wanna break for a late lunch?” Jungkook asks.

“Please, I’m starved,” you say, returning from the guest room after tossing on the sweater you brought. “What's on the menu?”

“Well, we have two options,” he says, looking very faux serious, “1. We order out from wherever you want and awkwardly wait for it to arrive because the next shoot is not one we can’t prep for, then eat, then shoot. Or 2. I make use of the ingredients I bought to make Bulgogi Kimchi Fried Rice and you get lunch and a show.”

You're shocked.

Jungkook…cooks? Oh this you absolutely must see.

“Hmm….” you say, pretending to really mull it over in the same ‘serious’ tone, “I’m thinking I’ll have to go with option two, Chef. But I’ll lend a hand where I can, no use in standing around doing nothing.”

“Every chef needs a sous.”

With both of you on task, lunch is getting made quickly. Jungkook has all the ingredients to make ‘my buddy’s famous family recipe,’ a man who you assume is a chef back at the palace. The island countertop is currently covered in them; onion, kimchi, marinated bulgogi, gochujang, cooked rice, eggs and more.

You’re surprised at how skilled Jungkook is in the kitchen. He’s cutting the ingredients like he’s been doing it his whole life and working the pan over the stove like the proper technique has been drilled into him since birth.

Thirty minutes pass, and after both of you shed a tear at the cut onions and evenly split the remaining tasks, you’re sitting on the couch about to take your first bite. It smells delicious. Your mouth is watering and you can’t wait to dig in, stomach painfully empty by this point.

Finally taking that first bite, you nearly die of euphoria.

“Ouhmahgaud,” you say, mouth half full. Jungkooks on the other side of the couch, trying not to cough out his own food from laughing at your reaction. His eyes are nearly shut with how wide he’s smiling.

“Good?” he asks after swallowing his food first, like a civilized person.

You’re vigorously nodding as you swallow your own helping in hopes you’re understood.

“You’re giving me this recipe. I need it. I don’t think I will survive if this is the only time I ever get to eat it.” Your bowl is almost half gone already. Thank god there’s leftovers, you will be having more.

Plus, you want to make it for your mom when you go home, she’ll love it.

“I’ll text it to you later, don’t worry.”

You’re very sure the look on your face conveys the gratitude you feel and the rest of the meal passes in a very comfortable and satisfied silence.

Twenty-ish minutes later, after letting your seconds settle for a couple minutes, Jungkook gets back to business.

“Next look is the most adventurous, it uses the facepaint. Are you okay with contacts?”

“I think so, never tried them before though. Just give me a few before we start so I don’t explode when I stand up.”

“All good,” he says, before quirking a lip and adding, “I really don’t feel like explaining why there’s kimchi and bits of you all over my walls to either of our parents, so take all the time you need.”

You laugh, firstly at the visual, then at the idea of Jungkook meeting your mother. That would be something you needed on record, paper and film.

After a minute, you get up, the guest room making your acquaintance once more.

“This one is called Enigmatic,” Jungkook calls.

“Got it!”

You take longer than normal to change, maybe eating before putting on the skin tight shirt wasn’t a great idea. But at least it was stretchy.

It has long sleeves, a high neck, and is a very dark midnight black. There’s a matching black scarf for this one too, and a safety pin attached to the corner.

“Okay, what's the plan for this one? I hear facepaint is involved,” you say, back for round three, scarf in hand.

The background of the set is black now, a close match to your shirt. Jungkook is by the smoke machine, currently set up on the stool and plugged into a nearby outlet.

You hold up the scarf, questioningly.

“That’s to go over your head after the paint, but let’s see if you can do contacts first, they’re in the washroom. Need help?”

“No, I'm good.”

You don’t succeed at first, but after a couple attempts you look in the mirror and see purple eyes staring back at you. You love them.

“I look like a badass,” you say, returning. The smoke machine’s been turned on and it’s created a completely different atmosphere. At your reemergence, Jungkook shuts it off and comes close to give you a look. You freeze a little at the eye contact, his browns meeting your currently violets for a prolonged moment.

“They look better than I’d hoped, this is going to be great.”

He reaches under the gels on the table for a piece of paper. It’s a makeup model face with the look he wants drawn on. “Are you able to do something like this?”

The diagram shows the cheeks, bottom half of the nose and down all the way to the neck as black, and the eyes and up as white, bleeding down into the black like smoke. You’re going to need eyeshadow for that part. If you did that with the face paint it would just become a gray mess.

“Yep, but it’s going to take some time to get it right.”

“That’s okay, I’ll use it to get the smoke machine properly set up.”

You use one of the palette mirrors and start with the white, covering the top of your face and making a good base layer for the eyeshadow. Then fill the bottom of your face and neck with the black. Carefully, so as to not make gray, you use a large brush to cover both sides with their respective eyeshadow shades, before blending them together like the reference. Your skin starts to feel like it’s on fire by the time you're satisfied and you check your phone for the time when you finally finish.

4:37pm.

Not bad. You put the scarf over your head and cover your ears with it, using the safety pin to hold it in place.

“Done.”

Jungkook takes one look at you and lights up.

“Have I ever mentioned how talented you are, and that you make my schoolwork so much more fun? Because I feel like I should again even if I already have.” Your cheeks heat, glad he’s excited you’re able to help. “How did you manage to make it look even better?”

“I do vaguely remember mentioning something about a deal with a semi-suspicious genie,” you joke. And both of you break out in giggle fits after a second, recalling the conversation from forever ago.

Running through the same steps of lighting, posing, and adjustments, Jungkook then flips on the smoke machine and lets it fill the room heavily before starting to take pictures.

You’re sitting on a small box this time, so that you’re slightly lower than the camera. Jungkook tells you to keep your hands at your sides and look up, just above the rim of the camera lens. It creates a very interesting look, and you're excited to see the results.

He has you do a couple more poses before allowing you to do your own thing once more, trying to think of what would look mysterious and enigmatic.

You try to let the music inspire you. This is a look you’ve never done before, so you’re finding it a bit difficult to get into it despite Jungkook's helpful prompts and suggestions. But you flow a bit better with it as time goes on and you become more comfortable.

An idea pops up out of nowhere and you have him do a close up from the middle of your chin to the middle of your forehead. You stare straight into the lens to really showcase the purple contacts and makeup.

“This’s the one for sure,” he says, taking a few more. “Great idea, why didn’t I think of a close up in the first place?” You know he's talking to himself at this point.

It’s close to 6:15pm when Jungkook decides he has enough pictures for this look. You don’t mind the longer shoot seeing as you set aside the day for this, and you can’t wait to see how these ones turn out in particular.

You’re halfway through getting the face paint off, a mountain of gray stained cotton pads beside you, when Jungkook turns the music down.

“Let’s do a light, early dinner and then shoot the last one?” he asks. “I kept this one at the end because it’s going to create the most mess and it’ll be nice to have dinner out of the way for when I have to clean up.”

“More mess than this?” you point to the cotton pad mountain.

“Much more.”

“Light, early dinner it is,” you confirm, not wanting to have to wait till late to eat. “But can we order out so I have time to get the rest of this off?”

“Sure, what’ll it be?”

Clean faced, moisturized and ramyeon filled, you and Jungkook are preparing for the last shoot. Or well, lightly arguing.

“Water?”

“Mhm.”

“On me?”

“Yep.”

“From that thing,” you point to the contraption he calls a c-stand that will be holding the very full, very large watering can over your head for an extended amount of time, “And into there?” you point again to the kitty pool on top of the tarp that’s underneath the watering can c-stand.

“That is the plan,” he looks amused at your slight distress.

“Are you nuts? What if it falls on me? How do I know it won’t unhinge and I’ll have a nicely cracked open skull to explain to my mother on Solstice break?”

“It won’t fall and you know it won't because you trust me and trust I wouldn’t put you in unnecessary danger. But if it does, tell your mom I say hi and sorry.”

You scoff at him, unbelievable. “So you admit there’s a bit of danger!”

Jungkook sighs, and looks to the ceiling. “Yes, YN. There is a touch of danger. But that’s only if, somehow, the c-stand I have triple safety checked, duct taped twice, and quadruple secured with four fifteen pound sandbags, decides that you deserve a watering can to the head.”

You side eye his tone. This wasn’t an unrealistic worry. But you do trust him. And trust he would never intentionally put you in any danger.

The trees are set up near the backdrop that looks like a row of brick houses. The shot is supposed to be ‘The Calm after Before the Storm,’ where you look relieved and happy in an ‘outside’ setting while ‘rain’ falls over you, also in black and white.

“Fine, but if I hear one peep from that thing,” c-stand staring down the tip of your finger once more, “I’m tuck and rolling and taking you out while I do it.”

“Very fair!” he says relieved, and goes to set up the stand with the watering can.

You’d changed into the neutral V neck after dinner, and he’s asked for no makeup. So all you have to do now is stand and pose while trying not to die from foreign objects falling from the sky while you get wet.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

It is incredibly difficult, and you’re glad he made this one last because you’re at best; slightly miserable. Only the promise of a hot shower, hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows and your pick of whatever you watch afterward is keeping you going.

You started this one just shy of 8pm after waiting 45 minutes for the food. And it’s nearing 9:30 now. Jungkook has had to refill the watering can four times, dump the kiddie pool twice, and you swear if you don’t finish within the next twenty minutes, you’re going to collapse from shivering.

To be fair, he does fill the watering can with warm water, but it only stays warm for so long before freezing water is pouring on you for the millionth time tonight.

“I have one last idea, and by the way, I’m never doing this concept again so don’t worry about that, but also… don’t shut down the idea immediately okay?” Jungkook says.

The watering can is almost empty again and you’re relieved that your time is almost up. That in itself should make for a good picture. He snaps it.

But his tone makes you a little wary, “Okay… what is it?”

“Pretend I’m Nel and you’re seeing me for the first time in six months, like you do at the end of April.”

Well, you didn’t have that down on your photo shoot prompt bingo card.

Are you okay with the idea? You aren’t sure, but aren’t not sure either.

“I mean, I’ll try. Maybe you could give vocal cues to try and help? But don’t make it weird.”

“I won’t, promise,” Jungkook pauses for a second before adding, “Does he call you baby?”

You nod, and you distantly hear and ‘okay’ as you slowly allow yourself to get into that headspace.

You start, and the camera starts going.

You’re in the airport, waiting for Nel, ‘smoosh’ paper in hand. The gate opens, and through all the other passengers you see him, see that he’s in one piece, see that he’s safe.

Your face illuminates with relief at that so much so that you don’t even notice the water that starts running down your face.

You hear a ‘hi baby’ and in your head, it’s coming from Nel’s mouth as he nears you. You smile impossibly wider at the thought of seeing him, feeling him. Having him here with you.

You look happy to see me, ‘Nel’ says.

“I am,” you reply.

There’s repetitive clicking in the distance, but you ignore it. It’s probably just a flight attendant's heels on the floor.

“I missed you.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Nel speaks again.

I missed you too, baby.

You’re shivering hard now, lost in thought, unaware of reality.

YN, Nel calls.

“Yes, love?”

“YN.”

“Babe, what is it?”

“YN, hey,” you're being shaken gently.

“Hmm? What?” you slowly arrive back to the present. Strong hands grip your shoulders. They feel nice. Solid. Deliciously warm.

A very concerned looking Jungkook comes into focus, camera dangling around his neck and reaching for you.

Oh.

He’s the one holding your shoulders, trying to get you to come back to reality.

“There she is, welcome back,” he lets go and grabs a blanket from somewhere and wraps it around you. “We got the shot, go take a shower and warm up okay?”

“Okay,” you say, still a little dazed, but present enough to function.

You step out of the pool, holding on to the hand Jungkook offers to balance—Warm. Solid. Strong—and head straight for the bathroom, making a pit stop in the guest room to grab your bag with fresh clothes.

The hot water cements your place back in reality, letting it warm you up and cleanse you of the day.

You have no idea what just happened with that whole Nel thing, but it was a new feeling and a new headspace and you really aren’t in the mood to analyze or acknowledge, so it’s shoved onto a top shelf in the back of your mind for a later date.

Once you're able to return to the directory of your mind, you don’t know how long you’ve been in the shower. But you know you’re clean, no longer cold, and in the mood for hot chocolate, so you step out and dry yourself with the towels Jungkook laid out for you on the toilet seat.

They’re soft. So soft in fact you consider only for a second shoving one in your now less full bag to take home with you. However, you do rather enjoy your friendship with the prince, so you think better of it upon second thought.

Dressing in your sweats, you exit, tossing the towels in the hamper and your bag of the clothes you arrived in back into the spare room.

“Better?” Jungkook asks as you sit down in your spot on the couch for the last time tonight, wrapping up in the blanket he left for you. He’s in the kitchen but heard you coming.

“Much, thanks,” you sniff, “Is that hot chocolate I smell?”

Jungkook returns from the kitchen, two mugs in hand. “With extra whip cream and marshmallows, as ordered.”

You carefully take it from him, giving your thanks and happily slurping away the second it’s in your grasp.

“Alright Caravaggio, what are we watching?” he asks, sitting down on his side, sipping away on his own.

Sometime between you leaving for the shower and coming back out Jungkook changed into his own comfy attire, and tidied up the studio space as the pool and tarp are nowhere to be seen.

“I’ve thought really hard about this, all of however long I was in the shower,” Jungkook mutters something about 35 minutes; you ignore him, “And have settled on ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

He whines just a little when he says, “But it’s November.”

“So?”

“So, Solstice isn’t until the third week of December,” he’s saying this like his point is the most obvious thing in the world.

It’s not.

“Your point?”

“That it’s November, and you want to watch a Solstice movie.”

You’re mockingly outraged.

“Who made you town grinch? I didn’t realize we had a holiday hater in our midst.”

You loved the holidays, all the big ones, and the small ones, but Solstice was special.

“I’m not a grinch, I’m just not there yet, mentally.”

“Then get ready to dive in head first, because you said I could pick the movie for risking my life for you and I pick ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

Jungkook doesn’t argue further, but he does roll his eyes as he puts on your movie with a small smile hidden behind his drink.

It’s sometime during the first act, you’re lying back against your corner of the couch, feet up and under the blanket when you ask, “What are your solstice break plans?”

Jungkook takes a moment to part from the TV, very invested for someone who was so against it half an hour ago. “I have a lot of ‘princely duties’ to do for Solstice, like standing and looking thoughtful while my dad gives his annual Solstice speech,” you snort. “Then there’s the palace dinner, the parade through the capital, and the live televised event,” he says in a tv announcer's voice, “Where my family and I light the Solstice Star. And then there’s the new year and that in itself has another long list of things I have to do. Besides things like that though? Not much, and then it’s back here.”

Right.

You often forget who he is.

That behind those kind eyes, and small smiles, behind the greenhouse study dates, and movie nights, and photoshoots, Jungkook has an enormous responsibility constantly looming over his head, counting down the days until he finishes his schooling. One that’s just waiting to drop onto his shoulders forever.

You often forget that Jungkook is the Prince, first in line to the biggest throne in the realm. That you spend your time with not only Jeon Jungkook, friend and photography student, but also, His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook, Heir Apparent and Future King of The Western Shores.

He just makes it so damn easy to forget.

You only asked because you thought maybe he had plans with friends or family, completely forgetting about all of the things the royal family does during the holiday season to celebrate with the nation, their people, and now you feel like an ass for even bringing it up.

But there’s something in his answer, or lack thereof, that snags your attention.

“What about celebrating with your family and friends in private?”

“No time,” Jungkook’s stare goes distant as he brings his knees up and puts his arms around them, resting his chin. “Friends are always busy with palace preparations and dad’s not really the sentimental type. We celebrated when I was younger; big family breakfast, presents, tree decorating, whole thing. But after I turned about 13 or so, it started dwindling pretty quickly. Now it’s just me and my mom exchanging a gift with each other at midnight under the palace tree.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard something so heartbreaking yet beautiful in your life.

“Your mum sounds wonderful, I’m really happy you two get that time together.”

He looks at you, and you can tell by the look in his eyes he loves that time with her more than anything else.

Solstice is supposed to be the time you spend with your family, blood or chosen. The time where you all gather to cook and bake, and exchange thoughtful gifts with the ones you love. The time where you truly cherish one another and count yourself lucky for all that you have.

Solstice is your favourite time of the year.

To not spend it like that just seems…wrong. Horribly, painfully, awfully wrong.

“What about you?” he asks.

You don’t want to make him feel bad, so you tone down your answer, taking away the meat and giving the bones.

“My mum and I cut down our own tree and decorate it with the ornaments we’ve collected over the years,” you have them from every place you’ve ever visited, and your mum kept all the ones you ever made as a kid. You even get a new one every solstice to take a picture for and label with the year.

“Then we bake solstice cookies until our hands cramp and survive off only them until solstice dinner; a turkey, honey glazed carrots, mashed potatoes with gravy, essentially if it waters your mouth, it’s there,” he chuckles at that. “We do gifts for each other too, opening them on solstice morning before making hot drinks and reading in the breakfast nook until the sun sets or till we get hungry, whichever comes first.”

Jungkook's eyes glow, radiating warmth, a lazy smile on his face as he listens to you.

“That sounds really nice, YN.”

“It is,” you reply, looking him in those radiant eyes as you do. He looks… happy. Happy for you, that you get to have something like this that’s so special. It breaks your heart a little…maybe you can help.

“You wanna make some solstice cookies with me before break?”

His look of happy shifts to one of slight panic.

“What?” you question, and comically ask, “Have you never made solstice cookies before?”

He hesitates before answering a very quiet, “Uh…N-no.”

Your shock must be incredibly evident in the way he almost flinches at your reaction.

So you try your best to keep your voice level when you ask, “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. I’ve never made solstice cookies.”

That’s it. You can’t hold back any more, you’ve never heard anything so blasphemous in all your life.

“You’ve never what? How is that even possible?”

He shrinks into himself a little more.

“The palace pastry chef always makes them because that’s kind of his job,” you stare at him in disbelief. “Is this really that big a deal?”

You swear there’s cog’s and smoke flying out of your ears. Solstice cookies are a religion in your household. You know dozens of recipes by heart, always finding a new one each year to try and up your game. You cannot imagine a solstice without making them. Wait no, actually you can, but it would be because you’re dead.

You held back in your answer earlier, for his sake, but you and your mom’s hands cramp up because you make enough cookies to give a box to everyone in the neighborhood. It’s one of your favourite traditions, and your neighbours even look forward to it every year, going so far as sending you both recipes to try out.

“Big dea—you’ve never fucking mad—not even when you were little? No one brought you to the kitchen and let you help? Aren't all your friends back home the pastry chefs' kids or something?” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but your tone is a little more passionate than you were intending.

But Jungkook knows you, knows you occasionally get that passionate about things, and takes your outburst in stride.

“Yeah, one of them is, but we don't sit around the oven and make cookies all break long. And his dad is always too busy to teach us even if we wanted to.”

You decide something. Right then and there.

“This year you are.”

“What?”

“Mark your last Saturday off because I'm going to show up here, ingredients-a-plenty and teach you how to make solstice cookies. I have a million recipes up here,” you tap your head with a finger, “But I'll choose the easiest ones. And I’ll come over early so we can spend the day making all of them. I can’t in good conscience leave for the break knowing you’ve never made them.”

He sighs. “Do I have any say in the matter?”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook stares at you and you can’t figure out what he’s thinking. You’re worried he’s going to say no anyway. To say you’re crazy and that they’re just cookies and that he has more important things he has to do on his Saturday before leaving for home.

But he doesn’t. And you should’ve known he wouldn’t, not after all the time you’ve spent together.

You know better. Know him better.

“Alright Picasso. Sounds like a plan. I’m looking forward to it,” he decides, and goes back to watching the movie.

It’s the first time he’s ever repeated a nickname.

“Wait! The wind guy wants to replace who?!” Jungkook shouts.

You laugh at his confusion, and rewind the movie.

Jungkook wakes up sore.

His back is killing him, which makes sense since he’s half lying on the couch, half on the ground.

The TV’s silently playing some slideshow of movie recommendations based on recent watches.

He checks his phone, reaching for it on the coffee tale.

14% battery.

4:07am.

Shit, he fell asleep.

After the solstice movie he wanted to watch its predecessor. You had no qualms and so on it went, but he doesn’t remember much after the brothers started fighting.

Hearing soft, even breathing next to him he turns to see you, hunched over in your spot asleep, no doubt in the process of ruining your own back.

He should go to bed.

You should go to bed.

But you’ve never stayed the night.

What should he do? Should he wake you?

But you look so peaceful. And it’s nearing exams. You barely sleep when it’s exams season.

Instead, Jungkook goes to check the guest room, but it’s a mess with yesterday's comings and goings. Make-up and clothes and hangers strewn everywhere.

Quietly, making a decision he hopes you won’t kill him for in the morning, he pads back to your sleeping form.

It’s for your back, he tells himself. No other reason.

Deja vu sets in as he scoops you up from the couch, blanket and all. Just like last time, you gain enough consciousness to know to wrap your arms around his neck, but not enough to wake up. Your head rests on his shoulder and he selfishly savours the feeling as he walks down the short hallway to his room.

Jungkook sets you down gently on one side of the bed, and your arms release, slumber undisturbed as he tucks you in.

He goes back to the living room to retrieve your phones. Yours is still at 56%, and he places it on the table beside you when he returns.

Climbing into his side of the bed, he’s careful not to touch you.

Though he wants to.

Desperately.

His sleep deprived brain is too slow to block out the thoughts that start to race. Thoughts of how he wants to turn around and pull you into his chest, slide an arm around your waist, and kiss you goodnight. How he wants to wake up in the same position, you still in his arms.

But he’s also awake enough to know that will never happen. That you’re with Nel, and happy with him. That he’s drawn that nice, big line.

He’s awake enough to know you being in his bed is a fluke, unintentional.

A one time thing.

Plugging his phone into its charger, he sets it down on his own bedside table and pulls the covers up, falling back asleep.

His back facing you.

An exhale wakes you.

Warm and cozy, you take a deep breath and roll to your left side, stretching on the way over. The scents of clean linen and something familiar find you. It’s comforting, that smell, but you can’t place it.

Another exhale, but this time you feel it as well as hear it.

You open your eyes to see a sleeping Jungkook face not a foot from your own and you jolt in shock, falling off the bed in the process.

You look up from your new seat on the floor, ignoring the pain in your side from landing, and peer over the covers to check on Jungkook, who, miraculously, hasn’t woken up from your tumble.

Relieved, your mind focuses on more pressing questions like ‘how did you get here?’ And ‘why were you in his bed?’

The last thing you remember was being halfway through the prequel to A Miser Brothers Solstice on the couch, watching Jungkook more than the movie because of how invested he’d become in the story.

But you aren’t on the couch now. You were in his bed.

The bed of the Prince of the Western Shores.

The Prince who has a girlfriend, and you, who has a very long term, very serious boyfriend.

You hear a vibration, and following the sound, you find your phone on the bedside table.

You quickly grab it quickly and go to the living room as quietly as you can manage.

There’s a large number of unread texts.

SlurryYuri [11:08pm]: hey, just checking in. You didn’t get home when you said you’d try for SlurryYuri [11:31pm]: Helloooooooo? YN? You there? SlurryYuri [12:14am]: it’s getting late YN, when are you coming home? Are you on your way?

Missed Calls: (3)

SlurryYuri [2:43am]: it’s been hours, so you better be dead or have crashed in the school somewhere. Either way I’m kicking your ass when you get home

Missed Calls: (2)

(Recent)

SlurryYuri [9:36am]: you’re still not home?? YN seriously, where are you SlurryYuri [10:23am]: If you don’t message me back in an hour I’m calling the police and filing a missing persons

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You crashed hard, the shoot must have taken more out of you than you thought, so you never texted Yuri you were going to crash in a sleep pod at school like you’d planned too.

You make quick work of messaging her back, glad she unintentionally gave you just the excuse you needed.

YN [10:25am]: ohmygod I’m soooooo sorry, it was the school one. I fell asleep in the school. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll be home soon, promise. I’m just going to grab breakfast first. Again im sorry

SlurryYuri [10:27am]: thank the gods youre okay!! Don’t ever do that to me again YN! I don’t wanna be the one who has to break news to your mom!! She’s too nice. SlurryYuri [10:27am]: and take your time getting back if your rushing for me, I’m not at the dorm SlurryYuri [10:27am]: Tai showed up yesterday out of the blue and took me dancing. We’re out getting brunch right now, and he has plans for the rest of the day SlurryYuri [10:28am]: Im just glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere

YN [10:29am]: me too, and okay I will. Thanks for checking up on me and making sure im safe, youre my favourite

SlurryYuri [10:30am]: damn right I am, see you tn <3

YN [10:30am]: see you <3

You exhale deeply, that was fucking close.

Your stomach rumbles and it reminds you that you actually need to get breakfast.

What could you have? You could order in again, but that means a wait time and you are hungry now. You could raid Jungkook's pantry, or see if he has any fruit, but then you think that’s a gross invasion of privacy when it’s not movie night and you haven’t asked if it’s okay.

Wait.

The egg tarts!

You dash to the fridge, the marvellous sight of a greenhouse inside a coffee mug comes into view. Stuffing one down before you even get the box from the fridge, you exit the kitchen, sit down on the couch, setting the box on the coffee table. Once opened in front of you, you realize there is a healthy amount of tarts inside.

How many did Jungkook ask for?

Speaking of, a bed-headed, yawning Jungkook makes his morning debut, still in last night's clothes.

“Hey,” he says groggily, walking over and stealing a tart.

“Hey!” you say back, not nearly as friendly.

“Overnight tax, Picasso. Room isn’t free.” He chuckles at your faux outrage, popping half the tart in his mouth as he walks to the kitchen and grabs something from the fridge. Returning, you see it’s a morning protein shake.

Gross.

“So is that name the one you’re sticking to now?” you ask, picking up another tart. At this rate they won’t last until lunch.

“Yeah, that okay with you? It’s your name in my phone after all.”

“It is?” You didn’t know that.

“Yeah, has been since the start.”

You’re quickly learning that sleepy morning Jungkook is very different from morning post work-out Jungkook, friend Jungkook and photographer Jungkook. His voice is deeper, he’s a lot more relaxed, and maybe even harmlessly borderline flirty, like he’s not all there yet. Softer.

“Picasso’s just fine. A compliment really.”

“Oh? And what am I in your’s then? Hopefully something just as nice?”

You tell him like it is.

“PJK.”

“PJK?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yeah? It’s obscure enough to not be recognizable if someone were to see it, but enough for me to know who it is.”

“Nah, you need something better, PJK is boring.”

“It’s your initials.”

“And boring,” he’s really not letting up on this.

“Well...what would you save yourself as?”

He mulls it over for a minute before deflating. “Okay, fair point, but I seriously want a new one. Something that can rival Picasso.”

“Do you have any nicknames? Something not completely obvious?”

For a morning person, Jungkook sure is taking his time. Maybe he was only a morning person before 8am, and then if he got up anytime after that he became a normal person who despised mornings like everyone else.

“Uhh…Vivian calls me JK, but that’s essentially the same thing as PJK. My buddies back home sometimes call me Kook, but I don’t think that works either. My mum has one for me that I will not disclose to anyone so long as I am breathing. So I guess not.”

A lightbulb dings over your head. “What about your security? Don’t they have special code names for you when they detail you? Like bear or eagle?”

“Yeah, but it’s not nearly as badass as either of those.”

“Fess up,” you say. Now you have to know.

“Hare.”

“Hare?” Now it’s your turn to be incredulous. “Like a rabbit?”

“Yep.”

An idea pops into your head and an evil grin spreads across your face, one you know is already setting worry into Jungkook’s still awakening brain as you change his name.

“I don’t like that look,” he confirms. “What’d you change it to?”

You flip your phone around and hold it up to him.

“Bunny?” he says incredulously once again.

“Yes.”

“I give you Picasso, one of the greatest painters of all time, and you think giving me bunny is anywhere near on par with that?”

Teasing him is far too fun, especially when he makes it this easy for you.

“Oh absolutely. In fact, I think it’s the best name I could possibly set it as.”

Jungkook disagrees, vehemently. “No, change it back. PJK is fine.”

“Too late. You dug your grave, now lie in it.”

Jungkook brings a hand to his face, pinching the crease between his brows and takes a very long, deep breath, exhaling just as dramatically.

You take that as your victory. But you’re sorely mistaken.

He launches at you, reaching for your phone and you scream, reaching your arm to keep it away from him. You have a fox socked foot on his chest to try and keep him back. His right arm is holding him up near your hip on the couches edge and he’s reaching with his left as far as he can without breaking his sternum on your heel.

“Give it!”

“Never!”

You try to bring up your other foot to push him away, but Jungkook is strong, and forces both it and the one on his chest down with the arm that was supporting him, temporarily keeping himself up with his left hand on the back of the couch.

With your legs out of the way he can almost reach his phone. But in his distracted state, misses the couch when he goes to put his supporting arm down again, and flips onto the ground, taking you with him. You scream, but his arms wrap around you as he makes sure to take the brunt of the impact, landing on his back, you safely secured to his chest.

There’s a moment of pure stunned silence, you resting your forhead on his chest while you process, him not letting go of your waist as he gets a breath into his winded self, before you’re both laughing as you take in what happened.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you?”

He takes a second to respond. “I’m great.”

You push to sit up, and he releases you from his hold, but that was a mistake. Because now you’re sitting on his lap.

It takes an entire three seconds of you staring at him and him staring right back before you jump and scramble off him as fast as you can.

“Sorry.” you say in unison, you standing and him from the ground. It’s a painfully awkward 8 seconds before you break, cackling at the whole situation, and he joins in with you again.

Jungkook brushes off his pants as he gets up too. “Got any plans before tonight,” he asks, business as usual.

“Nope, cleared my schedule in case this went long, I’ve got the whole day.”

You swear his smile grows two sizes.

“Well in that case,” he looks to the TV, then back to you, “Wanna start movie night early?”

An entire day to relax and chill out before the hell that is exams season takes your every free second?

Yes please.

“Solstice movie marathon?” you propose slyly, near devious.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” he confirms, already halfway to the kitchen.

You spend the day like that, on the couch watching movie after movie, both pretending the little incident never even happened.

But you make sure to go home after movie night this time.

Chapter Nine: TBR

A/N 2: This chapter kicked my ass but it's here and I couldn't be more thrilled. I really like how it's ended so I hope you guys do too.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

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supervillainny · 3 months ago

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Kill your darlings

For the sake of the outline, a Steddie snippet darling that may or may not be killed:

By the time the sound of an engine rolled through the air he was feeling a lot better-disposed to life, the universe, and everything. He’d migrated to the floor of the van, lying with one knee hitched up, the stained sleeping bag that cushioned the band’s amps on Tuesdays balled up awkwardly under his back, so it took an undignified bit of craning to see what the hell was going on when someone rapped their knuckles gently against the open door of his van.

“...Harrington?”

Harrington was standing with his hands on his hips, one eyebrow raised judgmentally at the sprawl of limbs that Eddie had melted into.

“You were expecting someone else?”

Eddie started to shove himself up onto his elbows but the van shifted ominously under him, so he inched himself inelegantly across the floor of the van until he could hook his legs over the bumper and carefully push himself upright.

“I was expecting,” he huffed as he moved, “to walk back to my trailer.”

“What’s the matter, Munson,” Harrington said, a little sing-song, a little mocking, “you never changed a tire before?”

Eddie flicked the long-dead butt of his joint at Harrington’s head, smirking as he ducked out of the way.

“Swear to god, Harrington, if I had the lug wrench I needed I’d be bouncing it off your cranium right about now.”

It should probably be humiliating, how little effect that had - Harrington just rolled his eyes at the threat and beckoned Eddie to follow him with a bitchy little toss of his head that made Eddie want to set his teeth into the line of Harrington’s neck and bite down hard. It made his mouth water. It needed to fucking not.

“So you don’t have any damsels in your whole Demons and Dragons thing?”

“It’s dungeons. Dungeons and dragons.”

Harrington flapped a dismissive hand. “Dungeons, demons, draculas, whatever. No damsels?”

Fuck it. Fuck it. If Harrington’s fall from grace meant that he spent more time hanging out with freshmen nerds than people like Tommy Hagan - Eddie lounged against the side of Harrington’s Bimmer, the picture of nonchalance as his heart beat against the wall of his chest like it wanted to be anywhere but here.

“You never heard the rumors, Harrington? Damsels aren’t exactly my area,” he drawled.

There was a moment of complete stillness. It was like that strange sharp-edged sunlight right before the storm rolls in, a moment of preternatural quiet and clarity that had every single one of Eddie’s muscles coiling in readiness to move, to run.

Then Harrington just unlocked the trunk of his car like nothing had happened. That was reassuring for all of half a second, until Eddie saw the -

“Jesus Christ, Harrington, what did you do to that bat?” It slid out of his mouth without thought, absolutely no intervention of brain. It was pretty clear what he had done to the bat - the splintered wood, the nails, the stains, oh Jesus - and it was like being dunked into ice water. Eddie flung himself away from the car, backing off on unsteady legs, and Harrington looked at him, confused for a second, and then flipped a blanket over the weapon he’d seen. Which was. Better? That was better than him grabbing hold of it, sure, but Eddie was still moving away.

“Munson.” His palms were raised and his voice was soothing, gentle, and Eddie backed off a couple more steps and almost glanced at the ground behind him because he felt like he was on a cliff-edge, like he was teetering, like at any moment the ground might disappear. You don’t take your eyes off predators, though. Eddie didn’t even blink.

“Munson,” Harrington said, and then, pleading, “Eddie,” and it was a new and exciting discovery, finding out that even when he was scared out of his goddamned mind his dick was still paying attention. An icy fear-snake was slithering its way up his spine and he still knew that he’d be coming back to his name in that pleading tone again and again, later. Given a later, of course.

“You gonna kill me?” he asked, and his voice didn’t even sound like his. “‘Cos I am not -” he bit off the word as his voice gave way, screwing up his face for a second like that could stave off the tightness in his throat - “I am not ready to die, man. I’m not fucking ready.” His voice echoed across the parking lot, registering his complaint with the universe, because it wasn’t like there was anyone else around to give a damn.

“Eddie,” Harrington said again in that low, soothing voice, “I swear to you, that bat’s for monsters only.”

Eddie choked out a laugh that was at least a half an inch from a sob. “Sure. Monsters and fairies and queers, oh my.”

“Demogorgons,” Harrington said, and Eddie almost tripped over himself, stopping stock still for a second as his brain took up all available processing power to try and figure out what the fuck.

“Demogorgons,” he repeated, his voice flat, all emotion startled right out of it.

“I’m just here to help change your tire, man, I swear,” Harrington said, and fished inside his car - another shot of awful adrenaline - before pulling out a lug wrench and slamming the trunk closed.

Eddie wasn’t much help, when it came to it. He mostly sat on the curb and smoked furiously through another joint, his hands trembling faintly and gut slowly untwisting as Harrington heaved and twisted and tightened and loosened. The guy hauled off his preppy jacket at one point, and Eddie decided that he basically had tacit permission to stare at the great things that tire-hauling did to Harrington’s biceps. Call it therapy.

(At one point Harrington came to sit next to him for a second, sweating lightly and radiating heat. He plucked the joint from between Eddie’s shaking fingers and took a long drag, holding his breath as he handed it back before letting it out in a slow curl of dragon-smoke.

“I have… queer friends,” he said, handling the word delicately like he was using silver sugar tongs, and at Eddie’s startled sideways glance, firmer, “I’m not telling you who. But I - you’re safe with me, man.”

The weight off Eddie’s shoulders had him sliding a little sideways, a second of contact that made Harrington huff out something like a laugh.)

“There,” Harrington said eventually, pushing his hair back from his forehead and leaving a streak of grease in its place. La, Eddie thought faintly, my stockings, and choked out a cloud of smoke. His inelegant snorting had Harrington’s mouth twitching into something like a smile, and Eddie couldn’t help but return it with a wide grin.

“Thanks, man,” he said. For the tire, for the lug wrench, for not being a homophobic asshole? Sure. Why not all of the above.

“You’re okay getting home?”

“Jesus,” Eddie said, shaking his head and shoving to his feet, where he - lion-tamer, circus act down to his soul - stepped forward and leaned right in close. “You have got to do something about that hero complex, man.”

“Dunno what to tell you,” Harrington said, all sorts of soft. “Damsels? Definitely my area.” And his finger was warm when he reached up to touch Eddie’s chin, push his mouth closed with a click. Eddie was still standing there, mind nothing but static, when Harrington’s BMW pulled away.

#steddie #steddie fic

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littlesubbyflower · 11 months ago

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High Pitch - E.M.

Pairings:: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

1.5k Words

Warnings:: Fluff, established relationship, reader has sensitive ears and often finds discomfort in certain pitches, mentions of tympanostomy (surgery where tubes are placed in the eardrum)

Summary:: After seeing your discomfort during Corroded Coffin’s setlist, Eddie vows you will never have to cover your ears ever again.

A/N:: Maybe you guys will like this version of Eddie? Sweet, loving, and caring boyfriend!Eddie. Also, thanks to my babies in the coven accountability sessions, ily <3 divider by @saradika-graphics

It all started one rainy September afternoon, Eddie swore he saw you flinch when he turned up the boombox he had stationed on his dresser. He had just gotten Ozzy Osbourne’s ‘The Ultimate Sin’ cassette in the sale section of the record store. Bringing one hand up to plug your ear closest to the radio before wrinkling your nose in discomfort, the other hand keeping the well loved copy of The Secret Garden open in your lap.

“Um, Eddie? Can you turn the radio down some?” You say apologetically. “I uh, just have a bit of a headache today.”

Eddie immediately lowers the volume almost completely and sends an apologetic smile your way. “Yeah sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He takes a step forward and leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Do you need any Advil? Have you eaten anything? Drink any water?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble?” You smile sheepishly after slowly pulling your hand back down away from your ear. “I ate some of my lunch today, but I was in the library studying and only managed to eat my grapes and a granola bar. I had a few sips of my water too.”

Eddie shoots you a worried glance. “Alright, well, I’ll grab some Advil, a snack and water.”

“Thank you Eddie, you’re the best.” You call after him as he leaves the room.

He returns a few minutes later with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, two Advil and a water bottle.

The next time Eddie swears he’s seeing things as you wince and plug your ears is during Corroded Coffin’s band practice

“Hey, I’m going to step out for a second,” You call over the guitar solo that Jeff had been working on. “--just need some fresh air.” Quickly standing and rushing outside near his van.

Jeff finishes two notes before he stops and turns to Eddie. “Hey, is she okay?”

“Yeah man, said she just needed some air.” Eddie said, pulling a cigarette from the crushed box he had in his pocket and lighting it before inhaling and sitting on one of the larger guitar amps.

“Maybe her ears are a little sensitive. Sometimes certain pitches can bother me, so I wonder if it’s the same for her.” Gareth says.

“Maybe? She has been having a few more headaches, and asks me to turn things down quite often.” Eddie says, ashing his cigarette into the amber ashtray sitting on a table next to the amp.

Jeff nods in agreement, and turns the amp down a few notices and starts the solo again. Meanwhile, you’re rummaging through your bag, dumping the contents into Eddie’s passenger seat. Finally grabbing the small bottle of Advil, you take two. You make a mental note to try and put a pack of ear plugs into your bag for times like this.

You feel guilty tears building in your lash line, wiping them quickly before heading back towards the garage. Finding your place back on the couch, you sit with your feet tucked under you before smiling at the guys.

“Feelin’ any better, sweetheart?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, I am.” You smile back at him. “Thanks.” You say as Gareth hands you a water then passes water to the other boys.

For the next twenty minutes, any guitar solos that needed to be practiced were done so with the instrument unplugged or moved to one of the acoustic guitars. Confusion settles over your features but you decide not to ask, silently thankful that the rest of band practice went a lot more quietly than when it had started.

“Well boys, I’m beat. We’re probably going to head out.” Eddie says, standing from his spot where he was still seated on the amp.

“You sure? We can stay for a bit longer if you want to keep practicing.” You say, looking up at him. Eddie smiles at you.

“I’m sure sweetheart, plus you look a bit tired. Let’s get you home.” Eddie says, holding his hand out for you to take. You take his hand and he helps you off the couch. “Okay boys, guess we’re leaving. Same time on Wednesday?”

“Possibly.” Jeff said.

“We have a gig tomorrow at The Hideout.” Gareth reminded Eddie. “Nine pm, so we will need to load up the van and go to unpack at seven.”

“Got it! I’ll be here at seven, if any of you asshats are late, you’ll be walking.” Eddie jokes.

Eddie peaked out from the corner to see you chatting with Steve and Robin. He smiled to himself and stepped back closer towards the band.

“Does anyone want a drink before we go on?” Jeff asked.

“Can I just have a Coke?” Gareth asked.

“Same.” Eddie said.

Damien shook his head. “No thanks, I’m good.”

Jeff slipped out into the crowd and ordered the drinks and quickly went back to distribute them before downing his own drink before making his way to the stage. Meanwhile, Steve migrated you and Robin closer to the front so you could see Eddie.

“Oh, I meant to ask, did you bring your ear plugs?” Robin said close to your ear.

Your face paled in color as you pat your pockets. Steve searched his pockets as well but came up empty handed.

“Shit…” you groaned.

“It’s okay, maybe the pitches won’t be so bad?” Robin said wearily. Boy she was so, so wrong. A high pitched, loud, note came barreling out of the amp and nine o’clock on the dot.

Steve’s hands immediately came up to your ears as you flinched, squeezing your eyes shut, silently cursing yourself for being so forgetful.

Eddie sent a confused look your way and Gareth scrunched his face up in an apologetic manner, while Jeff’s face held a guilty expression.

The set was short tonight, playing two or three songs instead of the usual five or six. It was something you were extremely grateful for, but would rather die than tell Eddie that.

“We’re Corroded Coffin, Thanks so much for coming out tonight!” Eddie said with a goofy grin that faded when the spotlight turned off.

A group of girls waited by the side of the stage for Eddie, but after setting his guitar down, he walked straight past them and made a beeline to you.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” His eyes search yours before pulling you into a hug as Steve removes his hands off of your ears.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay! Why?”

“No you aren’t.” Robin says.

Steve elbows her side. “This isn’t our place, Rob.”

“Well could someone tell me what’s going on?” Eddie says.

Silence falls between the four of you. Eddie expectantly looks at you.

A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you close your eyes and turn your head away. “I just– it’s just–”

“Sweetheart, take a deep breath, I promise whatever it is, I won’t be mad.” Eddie says, using his thumb and forefinger to turn your head to look at him.

“I have really sensitive ears and sometimes the notes that are being played physically hurt my eardrums…” Your eyes immediately drop to the floor. “Not your typical ‘Ow, that was kind of loud’ hurt, like ‘someone is shoving needles into my eardrum’ kind of hurt.”

Eddie sucks in a deep breath and a guilty look flashed across his face. Why had you been in pain this entire time and never said anything? Band practice was probably the most miserable 2 to 3 hours of your life and Eddie had absolutely no idea. If band practice was bad, then the gigs played at The Hideout were even worse.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie said. “Why didn’t you say anything? God, now I feel like an asshole for anytime I gave you shit when you asked me to turn things down.” Sighing heavily, pulling your body impossibly closer to his, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. “I am going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck as he squeezed you, you giggled. “Eddie, ‘s not your fault. I just had three tympanostomies before the age of six.” Eddie looks at you confused. “I had three sets of tubes put into my ears before the age of six for my chronic ear infections and because of that, I have super sensitive ears.”

“She’s also supposed to use ear plugs.” Robin said, in her ‘matter of factly’ tone.

“Ear plugs?”

“Yes, earplugs. She’s got some special ones that her doctor had given her for use at school, but she’s supposed to wear the foam type ones if she goes to concerts.” Robin continues and Steve chimes in. “Usually I have some in my pocket because she and Robin have convinced me to go to several impromptu concerts, but I have two or three packs on me to block out the twerps arguing when I have to drive them around. Dustin’s screaming gets intense sometimes.”

“Melvad’s closes at eleven, right?” Eddie asks.

“I’m pretty sure, I think Joyce is working tonight too.” You say. “It’s late, can we just go tomorrow?”

“Whether we go now or in the morning, I don’t care.” Eddie kisses the top of your head. “I’m buying an entire box of foam ear plugs to keep in the van. I never, and I mean never want to see the look I saw on your face as soon as we started playing ever again.”

#littlesubbyflower #lsfwrites #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #littlesubbyflower: eddie munson #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff

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jcmarchi · 8 months ago

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What Artificial Streams Can Teach Us About Insects, Algae And Our Changing Climate - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/what-artificial-streams-can-teach-us-about-insects-algae-and-our-changing-climate-technology-org/

What Artificial Streams Can Teach Us About Insects, Algae And Our Changing Climate - Technology Org

By the end of the century, drought may reshape California’s mountain waterways and the ecosystems that depend on them.

A network of artificial streams is teaching scientists how a warmer, drier climate may impact California’s mountain waterways and the ecosystems that depend on them.

Image credit: Ruhi lab.

Over the next century, climate change is projected to bring less snowfall to the Sierra Nevada. Smaller snowpacks, paired with warmer conditions, will shift the annual snowmelt earlier into the year, leaving less water to feed streams and rivers during the hot summer months. By 2100, mountain streams are predicted to reach their annual base, or “low-flow,” conditions an average of six weeks earlier in the season than now.

In a new study, University of California, Berkeley, researchers used a series of nine artificial stream channels off Convict Creek in Mammoth Lakes, California, to mimic the behavior of headwater streams under present-day conditions and future climate change scenarios.

Over the course of a summer, the researchers monitored the populations of algae, aquatic insects and other organisms growing in and around the stream channels. They found that shifting the timing of the low-flow conditions also shifted the life cycles of many of these organisms and the relative abundance of different species. It also caused pulses of midges, the dominant insect group, to nearly double in magnitude.

However, because species adjusted to the shifts in a variety of ways, the stream ecosystems were generally resilient to the changing conditions.

“We were surprised to see such a clear example of how biodiversity can stabilize ecosystems,” said study first author Kyle Leathers, a graduate student in the Ruhi Lab at UC Berkeley. “It’s similar to having a balanced financial portfolio — because different species respond in different ways to warming, the more species a river has, the more likely it is that warming will not drastically impact an ecosystem process that is key for the broader food web.”

The study was published in the journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

The zig-zagging channels, each 50 meters long and 1 meter wide, resemble a mountain headwater stream. The channels divert fresh water from nearby Convict Creek and are equipped with gates to control how much water flows through each channel. Image credit: Ruhi Lab

Changing the rhythm of the seasons

Ecosystem processes follow natural seasonal rhythms, and animals, plants and other organisms are adapted to these seasonal changes. For example, aquatic insects disperse, reproduce and grow along fixed developmental timelines — and their success depends on factors such as water temperature and nutrient availability. Their predators, likewise, are cued to expect abundant populations of insects at specific times of year.

Leathers and senior study author Albert Ruhi, an associate professor of environmental science, policy and management at UC Berkeley, wanted to understand how earlier low-flow stream conditions might impact these natural rhythms.

“When you only study annual averages, you may not get the full story because important changes are happening on a much finer scale,” Ruhi said.

The system of artificial stream channels, maintained by the UC Sierra Nevada Aquatic Research Laboratory, offered an ideal location for studying these fine-scale changes. Originally built by researchers at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, the channels divert fresh-flowing water from nearby Convict Creek. Each of the nine channels is 50 meters long and 1 meter wide — approximately the size of a small mountain stream — and equipped with a gate to control how much water flows through the channel.

The outdoor stream channels allow for natural colonization of insects, algae and other nutrients. They also reflect natural fluctuations in temperature, dissolved oxygen and other variables — all of which can be monitored via modern sensors.

“At this scale, this is the only system that uses natural water, not recirculated water, and the water comes from the actual snowmelt in the watershed.” Ruhi said “We could potentially run a similar study by comparing dry and wet years in natural waterways, but it’s almost impossible in nature to have nine nearby, identical streams where some are under low flow and others are not.”

Kyle Leathers with a home-built device for capturing insects as they emerge from their nymphal stage, which they spend in the water, to their adult stage, which they spend on land or flying in the air. The researchers built the device using PVC pipes and mesh, and added pool noodles to help it float. Image credit: Ruhi Lab

During the summer of 2019, the researchers set three of the nine channels to mimic low-flow conditions starting in early August, which is when streams usually reach low-flow in this region. They set an additional three channels to low-flow three weeks earlier, in early July, and set a final three to low-flow six weeks earlier, in mid-June.

As the summer progressed, Leathers and other research team members took periodic measurements of various stream conditions, from water temperature and dissolved oxygen levels to the number of insects in the stream channels. They found that the channels responded almost immediately to low-flow conditions with rising water temperatures, changes in algae metabolism and earlier emergence of insects.

These shifts could have significant consequences not only for the fish, but also for terrestrial predators like birds, bats and lizards that rely on pulses of aquatic insects for food. The boom in midges, for example, attracted nearby Brewer’s blackbirds, which collected the nutritious insects to feed their young.

“It is remarkable that despite the stability at the broad ecosystem level, even slight changes can be consequential,” Ruhi said. “We did not expect that early snowmelt would control the abundance of stream insects metamorphosing, leading to earlier, more abundant pulses of flying bugs that in turn attracted riparian birds. This type of cross-ecosystem linkage is something we just had not envisioned, and we would have never captured in a laboratory setting. It underlines that timing is everything.”

The Ruhi Lab is now expanding on this work to understand how climate change may lead to mismatches — or new matches — in aquatic food webs.

“Ecologists often think of climate change leading to predator-prey mismatches, because predators and their prey shift their life cycles at different rates, or even in different directions, resulting in starved predators,” Leathers said. “The notion of novel matches may be underappreciated, but important.”

Source: UC Berkeley

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stillnotyourmusebitch · 11 months ago

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Ain't nothing but a shower scene - Hellboy x Afab!Reader

I am reposting my old hellboy fics on tumblr again.

(These are from my old account)

I had to admit that HB truly had the best shower in the whole of the Colorado B.P.R.D. headquarters. So, when I get the chance to make use of these facilities, you know I will.

But sadly, due to the sheer amount of bloody research I have had to complete over the past eight days, I haven’t been able to see very much of or be anywhere near Hellboy. If it wasn’t for Alice insisting, I really need to take a break and that it wasn’t normal to go so long without sleep, food or the basics of hygiene.

Normally I would flip her off, then go back to my work. Drinking my umpteenth coffee of the day, but I hate to admit it the kid was right. Gods, I could actually smell myself. That is never a good sign.

Marking my place in the old dusty tome I was halfway through reading/translating. I scrape the chair backwards unceremoniously loud along the floor to let people near me know I was in fact leaving the much-needed research table and if anyone messes with my organisation system in my absence, I will ruin them.

Upon standing for longer than needed to walk to the coffee machine and back. Only then did I realise how dog gone tired I really was. Taking my time I slowly and carefully make my way through the facilities many winding corridors. Trying my hardest not to bump into other agents or the walls, until I arrive at Hellboy’s quarters. At the first glance I can see he isn’t there which is both a blessing and a little disappointing.

Yes, I do get the shower and bed to myself for the time being but that also means I missed out on seeing him. We have really become good, close friends.

Now you are probably wondering why I have been mentioning HB a lot. Well that is simple we have been sharing his room ever since a certain someone magically managed to punch a massive hole through my exterior wall and out into the cold mountain air. He claims to have been swatting a fly. Not that there were any in my room at the time. But there was still no need to punch a massive three feet wide hole in my wall with his stone hand at that.

So I am now staying with him for however long it takes to patch the damage up. He insisted on sharing with me as an apology. It’s been over three weeks now and there was still a gaping hole in my quarters wall. I ain’t complaining tho. Hellboy really did have the best rooms in the facility and I’m damn well sure gonna make use of them. Since I had the place to myself I start stripping out of my uniform until I was stark naked and fiddling with the nobs and handles to try and get the water running in the oversized shower exactly how I preferred, amping up the heat to scolding levels that I find great comfort in. Maybe it is because it steams up the entire bathroom area nicely to the point I feel like I’m in a warm, safe cocooned state.

The multiple water jets pummel at my aching back and shoulders. I groan out at the blissfully sensation of my body finally unwinding and relaxing. Oh how I have needed this time to gain back my spark. I grab the bottle body wash that smells just like him. A calming fig and leather scent. I work up the lather in my hands then tackle the layers of dried on sweat and dirt I have accumulated over the past 8 days. Somewhere in between cleaning myself and the warmth of the water. I found that it managed to amplify the scent of the body wash. To the point it felt like he was right there with me. Meer inches behind me.

Maybe I let my imagination get away from me but it was as if his unique stone hand was scratching lazily down my hip. I try to lean back into what would have been his chest only to meet thin air.

“Shit.” I mutter to myself. This is not the time or the place to be thinking such things. Scrubbing the hot water over my face to try and clear my perverted mind of thoughts that were just that. Thoughts.

It isn’t that I don’t find him handsome. Oh I really did I mean that guy can charm the pants off anyone given the chance but we were only friends and nothing more.

“No, get outta your head. Finish your shower and have a damned nap, then back to work you go.” I spoke firmly to myself as I shut off the water.

I left the bathroom grabbing a clean towel and throwing it over my head to begin drying my hair as I wander back into the main part of the bedroom.

Someone clears their throat. I rip the towel off my head to see Hellboy stood there staring at me. His eyes are roaming all the skin available to him and it takes me a second to click I am stood there completely starkers. I try to cover myself but at this point what is the use. He has seen all of me now. I sigh.

“When did you get back?” I try and break the awkward silence as I continue to towel dry my hair.

His duffel bag drops with a thud to bring him back to the question I just asked him.

“Urm, just got back from a mission. Was gonna come looking for you actually.” He was clearly unsure if he was to look away or stare.

“Well you found me Red.” I say as I bend to dry my legs. “What do you want?” I ask casually, unsure where this confidence in my body has come from.

“You.” He breathed out the word in a contented sigh and a goofy smile on his lips.

I definitely heard him correctly trying to hide a creeping smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I stood back up to my full height taking the small grey towel away from my legs and dropped into on the floor.

“I didn’t quite hear that. I must still have water in my ears.”

His gaze drops to the floor

“Well.” I take a step closer to him. “You have me.”

His golden eyes flick up back to mine to see if there was any hint of hesitation or a cruel prank.

“Do I?” His voice low in a sort of warning that if I was messing with him I needed to stop now.

I kept moving slowly closer to him. The warmth of his body begins to radiate into mine from a couple feet away. He could see I wasn’t playing with him and that I really did want this. Whatever this moment was that clung in the warm air left behind by my shower.

As I got close enough to feel his body against mine I turn as take his right hand in mine and pacing it over my hip in the way I imagined only minutes before I had turned the water off. He is hesitant in his touch as all he knows is how to break and destroy with this hand but I want to show him the things he was clearly missing out on.

“You know you do.” Saying these simple words seemed to break the dam in both of us. His left arm winds around me stomach pulling me flush against his chest. His right hand caressing my hip and upper thigh. The contrast of his flesh hand and the stone one is magical. All the while his mouth descends upon my exposed throat kissing and suckling at the flesh marking my skin not that I cared. I grind back against him causing him to break contact and spin me to face him dead on.

“You’re playing with fire (Y/n). Are you sure you want this?” I can see a flicker of concern in his features. His golden eyes are purely molten with lust.

“More than you know big guy. I’m not afraid to get burned.” I scratch my nails down his firm pectorals.

His left hand cradles the back of my neck bringing me in for a kiss that could wake a million princesses, princes, kings, queens. Hell a whole kingdom from a cursed sleep. His lips are so intoxicating and I can’t get enough of him. I leap up as we break for air. His strong arms catch under my thighs and we go back to kissing like the world is going to end. It is bound to happen one day but right now all I need is him. I push at his large brown coat to try and remove the infuriating item of clothing to give me more of him to explore.

Hellboy can feel me pushing at the jacket. Seeing no other way to remove it with me in his arms. He moves us both to the nearest divider wall in his room and pins my body there with the weight and strength of his hips holding me in place as we break apart to gasp in lungful’s of air. I’m sure our lip look kiss swollen from such a fiery kiss that has become one of the best make out sessions I have ever had. He tears away the jacket, letting it drop to the ground, his hands go to my chest and thumbs swiping at my hardening nipples.

I’m chanting in my mind for him to use that mouth on them. He leans back slightly before slamming his hands either side of my head.

“We can stop now if you want. I don’t want to overstep.” I see the genuine concern on his beautiful face.

“I want this Red. I need you.” I rest my forehead against his.

“I could sure get used to this.” He smirks to himself.

“So could I. but unless you fucking touch me I will implode and take the entirety of the mountainside with me..” I grind down on his member that was tenting so wonderfully in his dark trousers.

It was my turn to get him panting beneath me.

“(Y/n), baby. I am trying to have some restraint here as not to hurt you . . . “

“I’m no China doll. You won’t break me. Remember I have advanced genetic healing, anyway I want you to mark me. Let everyone know who it is I belong to.” I say as I stretch my arms up above my head to grasp either side of the thin divider wall and use my legs to pull him back firmly against me possessively.

Hellboy is mulling over my words with a hooded gaze. His left hand grasps my throat squeezing it generously. “Is that right? You belong to me and only me now. You are mine.” His words are almost a low growl as he speaks he moves his lips closer and closer to mine. He speaks the last word with his lips grazing mine.

I mirror the word mine before he descends into another mind blowing kiss. I’m so engrossed in the sensation of our lips moving in perfect rhythm. That I don’t notice he has pried away his right hand from the slight indentation he left on the wall by my head, so he can unbuckle his belt and trousers in a swift movement, freeing his engorged cock to slap up against my ass. He hisses at the skin contact. I feel the stuttering in his hips. He really is trying to stay in control. When his left hand loosens on my throat I break the kiss to grasp that hand and bring the digits to my mouth and suck at them in earnest.

I moan around those fingers as I close my eyes and just being in the moment. I stay like this for as long as either of us could take. When I open my eyes, I pull away his fingers from my mouth with an emphasised pop sound. Then guide them in between our bodies till he feels just how much I truly need him. He easily inserts one digit into me gasping at the wet tightness that greets him. A second digit followed by a third in quick succession are enough to have me moaning his name in an almost scared prayer. He thrusts those fingers so well that the heel of his palm grinds down on my bundle of nerves that sparks lightning through my limbs and curls my toes.

“Ffffffuck (y/n) I’m not gonna last if you keep this up.” He is groaning from the way our bodies are so close to that final embrace we both need.

“Then take me Red. Fuck me and claim me as yours and only yours” I’m so close to falling over that blissful edge of completion when he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips he sees the mess I have become.

“Oh (y/n) Is this all for me? It must be my birthday.” He exaggerates the last sentence by swiping the flat of his tongue up to gather the distinct flavour of my arousal. “Better than I imagined.” He cleans his fingers of my taste.

“Bed now.” I need this man to fuck me and or let me ride him. He chuckles at my enthusiasm but takes my ever so subtle hint to move to the oversized bed. Dropping onto the mattress Hellboy turns at the last moment so I’m straddling those thick muscular thighs of his. “Red, you gotta let me take care of you.”

I push his chest lightly till his back hit the plush covers. I manoeuvre so I am able strip him of trousers and help him kick off those clunky boots to free those cloven feet I rarely get to see.

Crawling up his chest slowly to make sure I still have his full attention, kissing here and there to see if I can hear those wondrous sounds.

“Baby, you’re killing me.” His hands move along my sides to my hips, giving them a firm squeeze. “Please I need more.”

I kiss him once more before positioning body so I can stroke his girthy cock in my palm. He bucks into my palm. I can tell he needs more. Mouth-watering ideas flash into my mind which I lock away for later use.

With is cock still in my palm I move so I can gather up the wetness pooling between my thighs.

“You ready big guy?” I lock eyes with him. He can only nod in agreement.

Slowly I guide him to my entrance. I push down till the head of his cock disappears inside me. I gasp at the feel of him stretching me so sinfully. Inch my inch I lower down onto him until I am completely seating on him.

I watch his face melt into that of awe. Here I am taking his cock so well. Clenching at the thickness of him.

“You okay there (y/n)?” He knows that he is well endowed and some people can’t take him completely the way I just have.

I experiment by rocking my hips gently. We moan out in unison. This urges me to move more and slightly faster.

Hellboy begins to rut up into me, I push down to meet him thrust for thrust. We work up into a pattern that transcends anything my simple fingers could live up to on those late nights alone in my room.

Our left hands interlock as we move as one. The room around us is filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, loud moans of each other’s name and the encouragement to go faster and harder.

“I’m so close Red. Please I need to. . .” I cry out.

“Cum for me (y/n). I got you.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy now. I know he is so close too. I lean forward to kiss him once more. This new angle is all I need to climax harder than anything in my entire life. A few more haphazard thrusts later and he spills inside of me.

I slump against his sweaty chest. Grinning from ear to ear which I know he is mirroring above me. We stay like this till we get our breath back. Shakily I climb off him and lay down by his side completely stated.

“Wow.” He turns his head to look at me. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm, yes I am now.” I try not to yawn but I know I will drift off soon after such a satisfying ‘workout’

He shift on the bed to go and grab something from the direction of the ensuite. He returns seconds later with a damp cool cloth. He takes care of me before climbing back on the bed to pull my against his chest.

“Sleep now. I got you.” I feel him lightly kiss my hairline before sleep takes me.

#jamie writes #my old fic #hellboy 2019 #hellboy imagine #hellboy x reader #reader insert #afab reader #b.p.r.d. imagine #b.p.r.d.#hellboy smut

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leonw4nter · 9 months ago

Text

I Love You, Without Wax. Forever Yours, Leon

Boyfriend!RE4R!Leon x F!Reader

Leon finally managed to find the keys to the jet ski, making sure Ashley stuck close to him as he fumbled with the slot for the key to try to get it to work. After a few minutes, he managed to get it to run, hopping in first before extending a hand to Ashley to help her get on since she had a slight limp going on. Revving it up, the water mobile got to work and moved them through the murky waters. He amped up the speed, swerving expertly through rocks but a rock he didn’t spot from underneath the water scratched the side of the jet ski, causing it to start taking in some water. They would both die at this rate; the hole wasn’t big enough and the water wasn’t rushing in fast but the weight of two people on the jet ski caused water to do more damage than it originally would. He had to come up with a vital decision: swim to freedom or send one person back home.

“Ashley!” He began. He turns around, locking a stern gaze with the blonde.

“I need you to listen to me and do exactly as I say.” She nods, her expression serious and furrowed in focus.

“I’m going to jump from the jet ski and I’ll just see you out instead. This thing’s taking in water and with my weight added, we’re not going to make it. Since you’re lighter you won’t sink but with me, we will so I’ll get out. Got it?”

Her eyes widened, worry drawn all over her features; no layer of grime and soot could mask the fear in her eyes.

“What? Leon, you know I can’t–”

“Trust me, Ashley. I won’t leave you. Your father trusts me, right? I know what I’m doing. I’ll guide you on your way out of this cave. It’s just going to be like that one time we rode that cart.”

She still looks doubtful, unsure of what she’s going to do next with Leon just running alongside her in a matter of seconds if she nods her head. Leon’s right: her father trusts him and she does too. Whatever they did, they always made it out alive thanks to him so they’ll make it out of this one as well. With a shaky breath, Ashley sighs and readies herself to take the handles.

“I’ll jump in 3, 2, 1!” He counts down before jumping, barely making it to the docking area of the tunnel and starts running, making sure he’s running alongside Ashley. Ashley notices the jet ski grow lighter and suddenly a little more of the jet ski’s bottom isn’t submerged in water anymore. With newfound encouragement from this, she takes the handles and speeds off. Though she doesn’t exactly avoid the debris in the water expertly like Leon did mere moments ago, she’s still managing to do well and Leon’s sure her chances of making it out in one piece are high.

“That’s it!” He said. “Keep going until you make it out, I’ll watch you from behind!

She didn’t respond but Leon knew she heard him; she was just focused on trying to keep herself afloat and make it out alive from this hellish place. The island was blowing up, both Leon and Ashley knew that so time wasn’t on their side. Leon’s legs were starting to cramp up, having run at faster speeds without a break and running low on water content. Soon, he saw a tiny sliver of golden light at the end of the tunnel but this is where a serious explosion from within the cave was being set off; he wouldn’t make it in time.

“Go, Ashley! Keep going! You’re almost there! Just keep up the speed and don’t take your hands off of the handles!” He instructed, cupping his mouth to amplify his voice amidst all the booming and popping of explosives.

Ashley got to the ramp and sped up, coursing through the air before hitting the salty seawater with a large splash. Had she not held onto the handles, she might’ve fallen out of her seat when she landed on the water. Cautiously, she peeked on the side of the jet ski to look for the hole that formed. Thankfully that splash didn’t cause more damage, much to her relief.

“Leon!” She suddenly remembers. She circles nearer to where she came from, looking at the fiery dock. The dock was going up in flames, black smoke billowing from somewhere inside the island. “Leon!” She calls out again.

She moves a little closer to the dock but there is no sign of the agent. She suddenly recalls how his voice sounded more faint before she got it, which could mean he lagged behind and stayed there up until the explosion. But he’s Leon, right? He can’t just leave her like this, he’s got to come back too!

“Leon! Please, you promised that we’d both make it out didn’t you?” She exclaims as fear swells in her heart and threatens to render her lost and directionless.

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It’s a bad day for you today: paper work is piling up, two department heads have already given you a talking-to over the mistake of the juniors under your team, and your fellow seniors aren’t helping you fix anything or get the other papers done. Sometimes you wished you were a field agent, actually going to places and moving around and fighting stead of sitting in a stuffy office and completing the never-ending load of papers dropped at your desk. Despite the strong urge to switch departments and just be a field agent for the thrill of it, you felt kind of guilty for wanting to voluntarily put yourself in physically taxing situations. Your Leon was a field agent once, until he never came back from a mission; he died making sure the president’s daughter got home in one piece. Even if it’s been well over a year since his death and you’ve managed to get back to normal, life still feels incomplete without him and his stupidly charming jokes.

“Y/N, we’re all going to hit the clubs later to look for some guys. Wanna come with–”

“Listen, Emerson.” You harshly articulated. “Instead of hitting the clubs to look for the newest hookup this week, why don’t you and the others get to your desks and actually do something productive. I got fucking yelled at by our superiors for shortcomings that was caused by you and the other little fucks but I took the brunt of it instead and you have the audacity to go out and party.”

“It’s not like I knew–”

“It’s not like you’d know because you’re a lazy piece of shit!” You fumed. The entire office falls silent, only the low thrum of the AC being heard in the space. Emerson’s face contorts into disbelief and slight shock, taking offense to your words even if it’s true. Her friends cross their arms and start whispering amongst themselves, shooting you with a disdainful look. With a roll of her eyes and an irritated huff, she takes a small stack of papers in her arms before heading to her cubicle.

“Damn bitch, I was just asking,” you hear her mutter under her breath.

“I don’t ever want to hear about Valentine’s Day, okay? The love of my life is dead.”

Your own words catch you and everyone else by surprise. Everyone, including yourself, had thought that you’d formally come to terms with the loss of Leon but it seems that there’s still a part of you that will forever subconsciously wish for him to miraculously come back. You promised Leon that you’d always be happy every Valentine’s Day, even without him but here you are: acting like the Valentine’s Day counterpart for the grinch. Everyone in Leon’s department and yours knew that you two were one soul in two bodies; inseparable. To see you without Leon was a huge change for everyone, an unfortunate change that you and they will have to get used to.

With an exasperated sigh, you sit back into your chair and get working. Despite all the tension in the room, you’re thankful that this outburst managed to motivate everyone into doing something for once. With a stretch and a sip of coffee for some energy, you got right into reading reports and signing them for the next few hours until your day ended.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After a day that seemed to drag on forever, you finally got to come home and unwind. Before going home, you made a quick stop at a convenience store to pick up some junk and beer. Sitting in bed wearing one of Leon’s shirts, you reclined into the pillows and sighed deeply; there were still papers that needed reading and signing but they weren’t a huge load like earlier so you decided to let those wait. Feeling a little thirsty, you get up to grab a cold beer from the fridge before moving to find the can opener. The spoon drawer was near you but you didn’t want to bend your utensils even more so you decided to dedicate some time to look for it. After a few moments, you still couldn’t find it despite opening up every cabinet door and pulling on the cabinets. You remembered how Leon had a tendency to hide things on shelves only he could reach so maybe he decided to hide it on top of the cabinets. Moving your beer elsewhere, you get on the kitchen counter and make sure you’re balanced, one hand holding on to a cabinet door and the other feeling around for the tops. Your hands are slightly sweaty, worried that you’ll take a misstep and fall down but you push through anyways; you’re determined to have that drink. After a few minutes of feeling around, you still don’t find it but you feel something smooth albeit a little dusty. Interested, you pull the smooth something back to you and see an envelope; the envelope doesn’t have any exterior markings and is only sealed by a singular waterproof band aid but with a turn of the envelope you see your name written with Leon’s handwriting. Even more interested than you were, you forgo looking for the opener and drink altogether to opt for reading the letter instead. Besides, you miss your boyfriend with each passing day and today is Valentine’s Day so why not cut the pity party and indulge in some totally-not-heartbreaking reminiscing. Heading to your room and getting into bed, crawling to Leon’s side of the bed you take the letter and gently tear the band aid seal off. You open it up and take the paper out; the letter was written at the back of an old document, blue ink strokes creating texture at the back of the paper.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

04-29 To my pearl Y/N, You’re asleep right now after a pretty lengthy breakdown session (not the dancing kind, unfortunately) so I had to sneak out of bed and look around for whatever to write in. I seriously hope you don’t turn around and drag me back to bed, I’ve been meaning to write this for a long time now. Anyways, I find myself drawn into the depths of my emotions and unable to contain the overflow of adoration that fills every corner of my being whenever I’m with you– when you laugh, when you smile, when you cry. How do I begin to express the depths of my love for you? Will an entire lifetime be enough time to show you all that I’ve got for you? How can mere words encapsulate the boundless ocean of emotions that surge within me whenever I think of you? I’m very grateful that you find solace within me, a sanctuary where you could lay bare your vulnerabilities without fear of judgment or rejection (and vice versa: me being vulnerable around you). When you speak my name, the universe pauses, holding its breath in honor of our bond. When we touch, I feel my spirit lifted to dizzying heights and surrounds me in this happiness that defies description. Your essence, your soul is like a beacon of light from a lighthouse in the darkest of my nights and the stormiest of my seas, calling me to the safety of the shore. You are the gem I consider myself lucky to have love and receive love from amidst the vast chaos of this universe. All those flowery words aside, I’m sorry that I kept something from you while you were having a rough time– I’ll be going on a 3 month-long mission to the other side of the world. I just didn’t want to tell you while you feel like the world is against you and I’m really sorry– I promise I’ll tell you really soon. I really don’t want to leave you but I have to, out of a deep-rooted desire to protect the world and to protect you. Three months will feel like forever but please hold on for me, okay? I’ll get you something from Build-A-Bear when I get back :) Though the nights will feel longer, please promise me that you’ll get some rest and live happily while I’m elsewhere (but still think of me too yaknow). If… If I don’t come home then celebrate every single holiday out there because it’ll make you happy. Do something with your life when I couldn’t with mine. Don’t sulk and wallow in self-pity coz I’d really hate to see that if I somehow get turned into a ghost :/ For the meantime that I’m not yet out for work, I’ll keep holding you close to my heart. Wherever I’ll end up, I’ll still be yours– always and forever. I love you :) Without Wax, Leon :) xoxo P.S. (I saw this at a random Almanac) “Sincerely” came from the Latin word “sin cera” which means “without wax”. Dishonest sculptors with imperfections in their sculptures filled in mistakes with wax and when something was flawless, they labeled it as “sin cera”, which is “without wax”. Basically, what I wanna say is that my love for you is real and genuine :) And also it sounds cool right? x

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“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. MIssing you so much right now,” you whispered as you traced Leon’s name with a finger.

You smiled to yourself, pressing a feather-light kiss to the closing portion of his letter. God you missed him dearly; what you’d give just to have him back. Folding the letter back and placing it back inside the envelope, you kept it near your heart for a bit before putting it on your bedside table. Walking over to your work desk you pulled out a neat sheet of paper and your favorite pen, getting ready to pen a letter that’ll respond to Leon’s though he’ll never get the chance to read it.

NOTE - I decided to write angst for Valentine's Day but I decided against making it super sad so... yeah. Also I attended a seminar yesterday since every single one of us were required to attend and it was... okay. Like it wasn't super fun but I did speak up a lot and a buncha girls went to me and hugged me ?????? Like that was actually really nice, I need more hugs ( -> touch-starved ). I finished writing this on the 8th and my grades release this Saturday so let's hope I don't die 🙏🙏🙏 Also, I read uhlunaro's fic called "Bone-Chill" and OH MY GOD ?????? IT WAS SO GOOD ???? LIKE THAT THING STUCK WITH ME THROUGHOUT THE DAY-- IT WAS THAT GOOD. GO READ IT GUYS CMONNNN!!!!!! Anyways, I know it's not the 14th anymore but I hope you had a great Valentine's Day and thank you so, so, so, much for reading my fics!!!!!!!!! <33333333

The dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

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captain-hawks · 6 months ago

Note

How about more band!au jean??? maybe post-show andrenaline rush sexy times or something?

ghosts of you and me

jean kirstein x f!reader

you weren't exactly planning on fucking your musician ex-boyfriend in the backseat of his jeep in the parking lot of a concert venue months after your painful breakup. and yet—

wc: 1.9k

18+

c: smut (with feelings!), band!au jean, exes to lovers, car sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, tattooed!jean, jean’s big dick

“Jean,” you whine, fingers tightly grasping the headrest for purchase, the plastic seat belt clip digging into your knee.

The car creaks and groans, and Jean’s mouth is hot and wet against the tender juncture between your shoulder and neck, fingers splayed across your lower back. You tell yourself it’s the adrenaline—the way the stifling air in the backseat of Jean’s shitty old Jeep feels like an overworked rubber band that’s about to snap.

It’s nothing more than muscle memory—the way the divots of your spine intimately remember the steady pressure of his fingertips along each notch.

It’s a reflex—the way you reach up to rake a hand through his messy brown hair, revelling in the way his breath hitches beneath your touch. The answering stutter of your heartbeat in kind.

It’s—

“I missed this,” he shudders, every ounce of his wrecked tone thrashing helplessly, ruthlessly against your ribcage.

You missed it, too.

Even if you shouldn’t.

—

“Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone.”

The final guitar chords crackle over the amp as the band's set comes to an end, the drums petering out while the bright, colorful lights flooding the stage slowly fade into darkness. Turning toward the bar, you slide onto a stool while the crowd bursts into excited murmurs. Cool air wafts into the humid room from the double doors at the entrance as people begin to disperse and make their way outside.

And despite the fact that the continuous rush of amplified sound is no longer vibrating throughout the room, your heart hasn’t quite gotten the memo as it dances an unsteady beat in your chest.

The bartender slides you a cup of water, and it’s halfway to your lips when a voice beside you interrupts, “Can I get you something stronger?”

You don’t immediately respond, taking a slow sip before looking over the rim of the glass at the man sitting in the stool beside yours. Though you’ve never met him, you’re fairly certain he was in one of the opening bands.

“I’m good, thanks.”

He quirks a brow, seemingly a little taken aback that his messy auburn hair and boyish grin aren’t enough to garner more of your attention.

“You sure?” he asks.

“She’s said she’s good,” an all-too familiar voice cuts in from behind you, a little rough after being poured into a microphone for the past forty minutes but settling deep in your gut all the same, and the weight of an arm settles around your shoulders.

The man’s eyes widen a little as he takes in the sight of the tall man you know is standing there, and he murmurs an awkward apology before seeing himself out, leaving his half-full drink behind.

Leaning your head back against the warmth of a solid chest, you look up and meet Jean Kirstein’s gaze. “Maybe he just wanted to see if I could get him backstage to meet the headliner.”

He snorts, “That’s what you think?”

“The lead singer’s pretty hot,” you shrug, like this banter between yourself and Jean is still considered normal.

Like you didn’t break up six months ago.

Like this wound isn’t still fresh.

Like your skin isn’t ignited, set aflame, burning helplessly beneath his touch.

As you turn around to face him fully, Jean casually leans against the bar, and you do your best not to allow yourself the privilege of roving your eyes over the fresh tattoo nestled in the crook of his elbow, the bold colors standing out amongst the existing sleeve covering the expanse of his arm. The trails and lines of ink are slick with sweat, and it’s a battle in and of itself to try and forget all the paths your fingers and mouth have traced across them.

All the ways those designs have been pressed flush against your skin, slick with sweat for an entirely different reason.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jean says carefully, referring to the text he’d sent you last week with a screenshot of an email confirming you were on the guest list for his band’s first hometown show in months.

The first text he’d sent you in just as long.

You’re still not sure what possessed you to, given that Jean’s unforgiving, tiring tour schedule was the crux of your breakup in the first place.

“I didn’t think I was going to either.” Inhaling slowly, you slide off of the stool. “I should go.”

Jean’s eyes track the movement of your keys now clasped in your hand. “Can I walk you to your car?”

Foolishly, you thought this might give you closure—watching Jean sing and yell and trail his fingers along his guitar strings beneath the blazing stage lights from your place at the back of the room. You thought you would know you both made the right choice when you looked at him and no longer felt a sharp, stabbing ache of what once was.

But the moment he stepped onto the stage and drug a hand through his messy hair, the light catching on the stupid green woven bracelet you snugly tied onto his wrist two summers ago, all the air left your lungs in a rush as a dizzy feeling poured over you.

And now you’re straddling Jean in the backseat of the same goddamn car you shared your first kiss in, the same car he bent you over the hood of on a balmy summer evening parked right on the beach beside the crashing waves, the same car you fucking cried your eyes out in when you realized this wasn’t going to work anymore.

The same car you slammed the passenger door of and didn’t turn back, not even when Jean’s headlights sat idle at the curb long after you stumbled into your apartment.

You could blame him for the way his hand ghosted over your wrist as you slid your car key into the lock on the door handle, his intake of breath audible as his chest brushed against your back, lips buried in your hair as he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

You want to blame him for the way every nerve ending in your body was set alight, the way you were helpless to stop your body’s need to sink into his embrace.

But as your fingers carded upward through the back of his hair—

As a soft little groan rumbled in his throat, his thumb inadvertently stroking your hip through the fabric of your dress—

The trajectory was inevitable, the desperate crash of his mouth against yours, his lips setting every scattered thread of longing ablaze.

Fog coats the windows of Jean’s car, the opaque swirls of white leaving little to the imagination as the dull glow of the parking lot lights illuminates his lust-blown pupils. Yet you can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’re choking down a whimper at the feeling of his cock sliding horizontally along your slick folds.

One strap of your sundress falls down under the careful tug of Jean’s finger, your bra following, and there’s a reverent sound spilling from his lips as he leans forward to mouth at the breast now exposed to him. He lightly drags his teeth over your peaked nipple, the way he knows will make you squirm and moan, and there’s a rumble of satisfaction in his throat as you arch into his touch and shamelessly grind against his shaft.

Looking up at you, he exhales, his breath hot against your spit-soaked skin. “I don’t have a—”

“I’m still on the pill if you’re—”

“There hasn’t been anyone else.”

His admission hangs heavily in the air between you, your heart fumbling in turn with the words as they repeat in your head.

“But we don’t have to…” he trails off, giving you an out if you want it.

As if you’re not still head over fucking heels.

“Jean, please,” you whisper, past the point of caring about the pathetic way your voice breaks midway through.

He cups your face in both hands, a thumb swiping away the tear sliding down your cheek as he leans in to kiss you softly, tongue flitting across your lower lip.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, low and rough. “I’ll give you anything.”

Him.

This.

Everything.

“Fuck me,” you plead.

Jean’s fucked you plenty, and yet even the memory of it pales in comparison to the feeling of him nudging the head of his cock at your entrance, the stretch of his shaft sinking into your tight, soaked cunt to the hilt.

His mouth finds yours again in a messy kiss, both of his hands gripping your waist as he groans into your mouth. “Were you this wet all night?”

You’d be lying if you denied the way your thighs clenched together as Jean tucked his guitar pick between his teeth, callused fingertips deftly working along the strings.

It was embarrassing, the wet patch you could feel forming in your panties as you found yourself lost in the gravelly tone of Jean’s vocals against the mic, your thoughts betraying you with memories of that voice lost between your thighs as he mouthed at your cunt.

“What do you think?” you gasp as he lifts you from his lap just enough to start fucking up into you.

He kisses you again, tongue sliding against yours like he’s fucking your mouth now, too, and it’s so hot and messy that he groans at the feeling of your pussy clenching down on him in turn, a line of spit hanging between your mouths when he pulls back to nip at your swollen bottom lip.

“I almost called off the show as soon as I spotted you in the back wearing this fucking dress,” he grunts, one hand sliding up your side and grasping your breasts.

Jean’s dick is so big, it would be borderline painful if the walls of your cunt weren’t intimately familiar with accommodating this euphoric push and drag. You’re already drunk on it—the feeling of being stuffed so goddamn full again. Of the feverish, intense pleasure that comes from riding his cock, your tits bouncing with each jerk of his hips, another fresh wave of sticky arousal leaking out of you.

“So fucking wet,” he moans appreciatively, hotly mouthing at your neck, fingers digging even harder into your hipbones as the sopping squelch of your cunt is amplified with each thrust.

There’s a surging, trembling need in the growing sloppy desperation of his length pounding into you, the increasingly strangled way you’re choking out his name and begging him to fuck you harder, harder like some fucked up, filthy prayer. You’re both too keyed up for this to last any longer, not when Jean’s fucking you this deep—like he wants to make sure your pussy will never forget the feeling of his cock buried inside of you.

And Jean knows you’re close, it’s clear that he remembers how you start to sound like you’re about to cry as you whimper with the white-hot pleasure of your impending climax.

“Come for me,” Jean heaves against your throat, teeth dragging against your sensitive skin. “Come all over my cock.”

You’re lost in the sweeping downpour of pleasure that explodes inside of you, your cunt pulsing and dripping as your walls flutter and contract around Jean’s shaft, every muscle in your body quivering with an overload of ecstasy.

Watching you fall apart sends Jean hurtling toward the edge, your panting, needy plea of, “Inside,” his final undoing as he chokes out a gasp and plunges in hard one last time before emptying himself inside of you, hot, thick cum spilling deep in your cunt.

And despite all this reasons this shouldn’t work, didn’t work, can’t work, won’t fucking work—you don’t care.

Not right now.

Not when your ears are still ringing with the desperate, choked out moan of your name on Jean’s lips as he came.

(Not when you swear you can feel something wet dripping on your skin as he shudders, his face buried against your collarbone.)

#jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #attack on titan #aot #attack on titan fanfiction #jean kirstein x you #dee writes #band!au jean

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nightynightghoul · 7 months ago

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Pebble has POTS

How Pebble finds out they have POTS and sort of learn to accept it.

This is just a little something I wanted to share, if it does well I may share other ideas. Thank you to @sister-nyx for encouraging me and giving it a read :)

Warnings: Pebble faints, there's talk about medical tests, not much more.

When Pebble was summoned, the rest of the ghouls thought nothing special of it. Yes, they were smaller than the rest, but their summoning had been hard and not as much energy went into it as it did for the past ghouls. They all had seen ghouls of all sizes during their lives back in hell. Many of the smaller ones being doubly as fierce to compensate for their size. No one thought anything could be wrong with them.

Neither did Pebble. At least not for their first few months topside. They learned what they had to in order to become their new drummer, they were good at it too. Enjoying the feeling of getting lost in the music alongside the rest of their new pack.

Pebble started noticing they weren’t like the rest of the ghouls. Not as strong, not as agile, not as resilient. The first time they felt it was when they were moving instruments around the practice room. They had to clear the floor for the siblings to come in for a deep clean. Ifrit had easily lifted and carried stands, amps, boxes, and instruments. Aether had no trouble helping Zephyr with their Keyboard. Hell, even Dewdrop was helping haul up equipment, and he was smaller than them!

But here they were struggling to catch their breath and feeling their heart in their throat just because they were trying to drag one box across the stage. Emphasis on the word “trying”. By the time Ifrit was done, Pebble was only just getting the damned box to where they were supposed to stack it with the others. The fire ghoul just smiled at them and lifted the box to stack in on the others.

Pebble could not catch their breath and their vision was spotty. But they just ignored it, muttered a thank you and went back to the den.

The second time, was stupid if you asked them. It was a very early and cold morning, they just wanted to have a nice hot shower before breakfast. Yes, they took longer than usual. The water felt great, they had to wash their hair, and maybe they wanted some time for themselves. The problem appeared when they stepped out into the colder air of the bathroom. As they were drying off, they started feeling like they ran a marathon. Heart beating quickly, spotty vision, and they couldn’t catch their breath. Nothing new, but it was getting worse.

A splitting headache started right behind their ears and their vision became tunnelled. Suddenly the effort to just stand was just too much and against their will they crumpled to the floor half conscious, dragging with them several items from the counter that clattered loudly on the floor and on top of them. They spent a few minutes on the floor, floating in that space between. After getting ready, only Aether asked why they took so long. Even years later, they could not tell if they fainted that time or not.

The third time was when they started to get worried. It was a sunny, warm day, fairly humid too. Most of the ghouls were spending their time outside. Even Zephyr felt well enough to go on a little stroll with Dew. They were sat on the grass with Omega and Alpha. Playful chatter, became playful banter which in a few minutes became playfighting. Pebble wrestled Alpha but was quickly pinned under the bigger ghoul.

But Pebble wasn’t laughing any more, the heat, the humidity, the exertion and now Alpha on top of them had their vision swimming. Just like before they felt that headache, the tunneled vision and the breathlessness. But this time it all came so quick, they had no time to tell Alpha that they wanted out. With a pathetic whine they breathed out and then everything became black.

When they next opened their eyes, they were laying on their back. Omega was looking at them alarmed, as if they had grown a second head. Alpha was agitated too, the usually stoic ghoul looked close to tears. Omega insisted on carrying them to the infirmary even as Pebble protested that they were fine and could walk themselves.

While in there, Omega took his sweet time noting their blood pressure and heartbeat. Pebble insisted time and time again that this was normal, that it just had gone a little further than it usually does. Omega made quite a few notes and kept asking more questions. As if every ghoul didn’t feel the same as them. -

Do you have a hard time breathing?

Do you usually struggle to catch your breath after exerting yourself?

Are high temperatures usually a problem?

Do you get dizzy when you sit up? When you stand up?

Pebble quickly became frustrated and ended up leaving the infirmary before Omega could finish his long list of questions or tell them much of anything really.

The quint did ask them to come back for some tests the next day but Pebble in their eternal stubbornness didn’t go. They were fine, and this was normal for all ghouls. Right?

The subject was forgotten with time but right now, this very minute. They kinda wish they had gone for those extra tests with Omega. Maybe there was something wrong with them.

This was their third ritual, the past two had gone very well. Only getting somewhat dizzy with the heat of the stage lights and the effort of playing the drums. They had managed to stand up without fainting by taking deep breaths. But right now, in this damned venue and its non-existent ventilation, Pebble found themselves sweating bullets. Their skin felt clammy and cold, their breath getting quicker, same as their heartbeat.

This was more than the adrenaline from rituals, Pebble was in trouble.

By the last song of the set, their vision was becoming spotty, but they did their best to keep playing. If Dewdrop, Aether and Ifrit could jump around the stage and play at the same time, surely they could keep playing while sat down.

The alarm bells really rang in their head when that last song ended. The crowd was cheering, and they cursed the damn mask for not letting them breathe properly. They had to stand up, go to the front with the others, go to their place for final bows. But just as they stood up, they realised just how bad they had let it become. The headache came in so hard they had to close their eyes and grasp their head. They may have been glamoured, but the loud whine they let out sounded like that of a wounded animal.

They tried to walk down the steps of their stage, but their vision went all black and unlike that time after that hot shower, this time they crumpled to the floor like a wet napkin. Aether looked back at his stage as he saw several people in the crowd pointing behind him.

He saw Pebble, unconscious, sliding down the steps of their stage. He ran to catch the smaller ghoul before they could reach the bottom. Ifrit and Dew turned to look at Aether, confused as to why he would be heading backstage in a rush before final bows. Then rushed to help him as they saw him removing Pebble’s mask.

Papa grumbled his disapproval to Zephyr, but quickly changed his demeanour as Ifrit ran back to him. - Pebble is out cold, Aether is taking them back to the greenroom -. They bowed and quickly headed back.

When he opened the door to the green room, Papa found Pebble laying on the couch, Dewdrop holding their legs high and Aether sat on the floor taking vitals. The quint assured them all that Pebble would be fine, even if they had some nasty bruises from their fall.

When Pebble woke up, they groaned and tried to sit up. But with a gentle hand on their chest, Aether kept them on their back.

Don’t move just yet love. Your heartbeat just went through the roof.

M’fine

No, you’re not. You just passed out on stage, and I need to get Omega on the phone now.

Terzo fumbled with his robe to take his phone out and call the older ghoul. Pacing around the room while waiting for his lover to answer.

Terzo?

Hi Amore, Aether needs to talk to you. Now.

Wait, aren’t you in the middle of a ritual right now?

No, just finished. But Pebble fainted.

What? Ok, let me talk to Aether please.

He handed his phone to the quint. Sitting by Pebble’s head, petting their head and around their horns. Hoping to comfort one of his smallest ghouls.

Aether immediately got to work, narrating all the important details to Omega. All Terzo could glean from what was said was that this was not the first time Pebble had fainted, and that more tests were needed to have an answer as to why they were passing out.

The rest of that leg of the tour went surprisingly well. Pebble didn't faint, although there were a few close calls, but much to Pebble’s annoyance, Aether was on top of them, all the time. Just as they got back to the abbey, Omega practically kidnapped them and got them to the infirmary.

A full week of tests got them their answer. There was something wrong and other ghouls definitely did not feel like this every day of their lives topside. Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. Stupid Human thing to have.

They walked back to their room after Omega was done with indications. There was nothing that could be done to get rid of the problem. They would always be smaller, lesser, defective. The feeling of being lesser invaded them. They’re supposed to be a demon straight from hell, strong, fast, agile. Not a runt that has to be watched over all the time.

What made it truly worse was the news they were given before the next leg of the tour. They would be summoning another Earth ghoul, Omega and Terzo had decided touring would be too much on their body. Straight up salt in the wound. No only that, they would be training them in the time remaining.

Their out of control heart rate and quick breaths didn’t help at all when they asked for the decision to be reconsidered. Pebble walked back to their room, to calm down on their own, to mope for weeks and isolate from their pack.

With time, they learn to live with it instead of against it. Accepting their body just as it was, flaws and all. It doesn’t come quick, and they still miss the little time they had with their Papa on stage.

But yes, with time, the bitterness subsides. They still get frustrated sometimes, and some days are impossible. They still faint all over the abbey, but they’re fine at least.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #pebble ghoul #disabled ghouls #I also have very little grasp on older ghouls so sorry about that #Just me projecting my things on the ghouls #they/thems your ghoul

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the-kr8tor · 1 year ago

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Speed Drive

🎉500 celebration fic🎉

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 6.2k

Synopsis: You come along with Hobie on a road trip to Glasgow. Aka the fic where I squeezed in multiple dream dates of mine lol

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, reader is a history nerd (definitely not projecting), the reader can't drive, sunshine! Reader. Suggestive content, lovestruck Hobie, Established relationship. FLUFF.

A/n: I did some research on the places they went to, if there are any inaccuracies on the geography/ information, please note that I've never been to any of these places, I'm only basing my knowledge on what I've researched and what I've studied in uni.

* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms and copy and pasted on any ai software*

Navigation

Masterlist

You grunt as you lift the heavy amp, back straightened so you don't accidentally sprain yourself. Waddling towards Hobie's van, amp sitting heavily near your waist. The sun is just about rising on the horizon, painting the pavement deep blue. The water laps at the house boat's side, the sound familiar, adding to the relaxed atmosphere where you and Hobie are the only ones awake in the entire city. The early morning air nips at your skin, leaving goosebumps on the back of your neck.

Suddenly, strong familiar arms wrap around the amp. "What are you doin'? Told you I've got them" Hobie clicks his tongue, taking the amp from you.

He's annoyed but not at you, he's irritated that he got the short end of the stick, ending up waking up early (too early) to load the instruments. You don't take it to heart, knowing his annoyance isn't because of you. It would've been better if he just helped his band mates load them in, but lady luck wasn't on his side. Unfortunately he also got driving duties, now he has to drive seven hours to get to Glasgow for the band's very first big gig. Leaving the rest of the band to take (a very comfortable) train ride at a later hour. Hobie's a bit jealous on that end, he would've liked for you to see the sights on a train instead of sitting on his old van that creaks when he steers a little too far to the left.

The only silver lining about the impromptu road trip is you. Seven hours on the road with just you is pure bliss, if only he didn't have to wake up in this ungodly hour, he would've been in a better mood.

"Sorry, you were busy loading in the drums. Thought I would help" you look up at him through equally tired eyes. A cloud of breath escaping when you talk. Hobie zips your jacket further up, keeping you warm.

He heaves the amp on one arm, effortlessly carrying it. "Don't be, you're just trying to help." Hobie feels guilty for clicking his tongue at you. He holds your cold hand, sharing his warmth.

"You're definitely not a morning person" you squeeze his hand. "grumpy" bringing his hand to your lips, you leave a chaste kiss over his knuckles. "Is that the last one?"

"Think so," he looks around the area, finding nothing else to load inside the van. "Don't forget to bring in the thermos, you're turning into an icicle"

"Okay, I made us sandwiches" you smile at him, swinging your intertwined hands.

"What kind?" He stomps down his grumpy demeanor at the sound of breakfast.

"Lots!" You grin excitedly at him, Hobie wonders where you got your sudden burst of energy.

"Fuckin' hell, no wonder why you were up so late. You made every conceivable sandwich in the world" he jokes, your happy energy spreading to him.

You chuckle, "not every single one. You have the first pick for waking up so early"

"Yeah? Even though you threatened to splash me with water?" He raises a pierced brow, a smile curling on his lips.

You wince, "yeah, sorry. It finally got you to wake up though!"

"Yeah, yeah, and here I thought you would wake me up with a kiss"

"I did! Like five fucking times. You wouldn't even stir, I got desperate, okay!" You laugh, it echoes around the silent neighborhood.

"I believe you, can you get our bags from inside? I'll warm up the van" Hobie reluctantly lets go of your hand. You feel cold already.

"Get it nice and toasty for me?"

"What are you? Banana bread?"

"Funny" you point at him playfully, walking backwards.

"Don't forget the bloody Thermos!" He yells after you, following you with his gaze, making sure you don't trip because you decided to walk backwards.

You wink at him, "okay, dad!"

"Lil shit" he says with a smile.

—

Munching on your sandwich, Hobie cranked up the heating, you're now warm and toasty in your seat. The leather squeaks when you move to feed Hobie a bite of your sandwich. He *insists that he prefers yours even though you made an identical one. Hobie's free hand is glued to your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making sure you don't fall asleep on him.

Hobie keeps his eyes on the road, trying to take a bite of the sandwich that you've teasingly moved a few inches away from his waiting mouth.

He bites at air, "Oi, what the fuck" you snicker, biting your lip. Hobie immediately figures out what you're doing, "don't make me swerve this fucking car into that ditch"

"Jeez, okay!" You laugh, leaning closer (as much as the seat belt would allow you to) Hobie takes a generous bite, "you're still grumpy? Do you need more coffee?" You rub at the corner of his mouth with your thumb, cleaning the bread crumbs. He hums appreciatively.

"I don't think that coffee's workin' too well" he says while chewing. "We're not even out of the city yet" Hobie huffs.

"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" You wait for his reaction with a tiny smirk.

"You haven't got a license," He says matter-of-fact, "you don't even know how to drive" he doesn't sound condescending or making fun of you, his voice laced with endearment. He makes a mental note to teach you once you two get back home. His fingers pinches you through your pants.

"I'm a fast learner" you joke, Hobie cracks a sleep deprived smile, oh he's definitely not a morning person. "Give it time, you basically drank the entire thermos. Maybe some music could help?"

"If it's your music, I'm gonna fall asleep on the wheel" He squeezes your thigh, just in case you didn't get his joke.

"If it's your music, It's going to burst my eardrums this early in the morning" you quip back.

"Nice. Sandwich me, love" he opens his mouth, darting his eyes from the road to you before his gaze goes back to watching the road.

You lean again, holding up the almost finished sandwich. "Do you know who invented the sandwich?" Hobie eats the entire thing in one bite, almost taking your fingers off. You glare playfully at him.

He chuckles, mouth full. "No, who?"

"Lord Sandwich, the fourth earl of Sandwich in the eighteenth century"

"You're fucking with me" Hobie takes a left turn, the van creaks, instruments in the back sliding a bit. You watch his hand turn the steering wheel, mesmerized by how his large hand grips the wheel. His rings don't help, you tilt your head, watching intently.

He pinches your thigh, getting your attention. "Hey, where'd you go?"

"Sorry, I was trying to recall the rest of the fact" you blink back to reality.

"Will you be like this the entire trip? Watching my bloody hands, you perv" He read you like an open book.

"What– I wasn't, okay! I was–" you fumble with your words.

He has a playful smirk on his lips. "You were what? Fantasizing my hands wrapped around your–"

"Stop!" You hold his hand that's on your thigh, so he could stop his teasing.

"What? I was gonna say 'wrapped around your hand', honestly what did you think I was gonna say?" He asks you playfully, shoving your shoulder lightly.

"it's too early for this shit" you mumble with a playful pout, intertwining your fingers with his.

He laughs, eyes crinkling into a smile. Hobie brings your hand to his lips, placing a quick peck on your warm hand. "Ah, too early for it? Maybe later then?"

You groan but your smile and the twinkle in your eyes says otherwise.

"What were you talking about? 'Bout the sandwich bloke?"

"John Montagu, he invented the sandwich because he didn't have time to eat a proper meal while he was playing cards and working."

"Bloody rich lord" he grumbles with malice.

"Hey, if not for him you wouldn't be eating one of my Sandwiches"

"I love eating your sandwich" he raises a teasing brow, proud of his innuendo.

"What is up with you this morning?" You laugh, playing with one of his rings, twirling the metal around his index finger. "Seriously, did I accidentally make you coffee with something in it? Is that why it says 'special' in the packaging?"

Hobie laughs loudly, echoing around the van. "You think they'd put an aphrodisiac in coffee?" He lets go of your hand for a bit while he steers the wheel with both hands. "Like ginkgo biloba or somethin'?"

You reach for his free hand immediately after he lets go of the wheel to lay it back on your thigh. "No like pistachio nuts or–" you try to think of another example, "— crab" you giggle when the word escapes your lips.

"Crab?!" He rides with your bit. "Must be some expensive bloody coffee, lovey" Hobie rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "No wonder I tasted something fishy in that coffee"

You gasp, feigning offense. "You did not!" contributing to the bit.

"Now who's crabby this morning, huh?" He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his pun, "argh, can't believe I have to endure seven more hours of this" teasing him, your sentence has no ounce of truth in it whatsoever. More than happy to accompany him on the trip.

"It'll be the best seven hours of your life, sweets" He looks at you through the rearview mirror with a smirk.

You can read him like a book too. Narrowing your eyes, you can just tell he has something planned, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"You've got something up your sleeves? Spill it, Hobart"

He sideways glances at you, hiding his knowing smile. "Don't know what you're on about" Hobie clears his throat, playing it cool.

"Nope, I know you, babe. That fucking smirk of yours, I know it!" You lightly poke at his cheek.

"Lovey, I haven't got a scooby doo. I'm just here drivin' trying to get us to Glasgow"

"You get very detailed when you're lying. I know your tells!"

"That so?" He makes a mental note of what you've said, which might be handy the next time he has a surprise. Hobie opens the radio, cd already inside, it plays a loud tune, drowning out your questions.

"Hey!" You yell through the loud music. Hobie almost gives himself away with a laugh, he bites his lip to stifle it. "Whatever– wherever you're planning to stop at some backroad tourist attraction, we better not be too late for the show!"

Hobie cranks the volume up, "What? Can't hear you through the music" he gestures towards his ear.

You press the 'volume down' button, covering your ears. Now you're definitely both wide awake. "You're an ass, you can't have any more of my sandwiches" huffing, you grab a ziplock of sandwich just to tease him more.

Banter fills the van, laughs and flirty words entertain you until sleep comes back to haunt you. Unexpectedly falling asleep, Hobie lets you snooze away in his passenger seat. Avoiding potholes, slowing down when passing a speed bump. He even uses his arm to act as your second seat belt whenever he turns sharply, hand cradling your head so you don't fall off the headrest.

Hobie has the urge to wake you though, but he needs you at full energy for what he's planning on taking you. Eyes drifting to the van's console, he gazes at your camera, taking a mental note to remember to give you the extra roll of films he bought for you.

—

Hobie shuts off the engine, eyes bleary, he clicks the seatbelt off of him. He has the urge to close his eyes and join you in slumberland. One look at your sleeping face almost pushes him off the edge.

He leans closer to you, hand cupping your jaw, he taps your face with his thumb. "Love" you don't stir, eyes still closed. Hobie's so attuned to you that he knows you're not faking it.

He kisses you chastely, warm lips puckering to wake you up. Hobie calls your name this time, poking your cheek. You still sleep, lips slightly parted. He's absolutely jealous of you right now. Peppering your face with kisses, he fully intends to wake you up. Defeated, you still lay asleep.

A bright idea pops up in his mind. Pulling away, Hobie grips the steering wheel with both hands, arms length away from him. He screams bloody murder like he's about to hit a wall.

You jump away, yelling for a second before seeing the parking lot bare, van parked safely. You clutch your chest, eyes now wide awake. Slapping his arm, you glare at him. Hobie has a shit-eating grin on his face, arm raised to shield himself. His laugh echoes.

"You fucker!" Slap "I could've" slap "gotten a heart attack!" You huff with a pout.

"I'm sorry, c'mere" he tries to hug you, standing your ground, you cross your arms on your chest. "You wouldn't wake up! I'm sorry, please?" Hobie flexes his fingers, face apologetic.

"Are we here? Did I sleep the entire time?"

"No, lovey. We're at a stopover" he points outside with his head. "'m really sorry. If there's any consolation I think you'll like this place"

Your eyes zero in on the sign, reading it loudly, "Stratford Upon-Avon?!" Screeching excitedly. You click off your seat belt with urgency, with the intention of leaving Hobie hanging as revenge. You'll kiss him thank you later anyway.

Opening the door, you step off, stretching your legs and breathing in fresh air. Warmer air greets you, a much kinder one from a few hours ago. Trainers bouncing off in excitement. Greenery and old timey Houses fill your vision, adding to your eagerness.

Hobie joins your side, your sling bag over his broad shoulder. Hiding his disappointment from your lack of hug, he only blames himself for scaring the crap out of you.

"Y/n." The lack of the term of endearment alerts you, whirling around, you see his shoulders slumped, face clearly hiding his true feelings behind a straight face. You know he'll feel worse if you don't try to reassure him. So you do, hand signaling him to hold yours.

He blames the early morning for making him all lovesick, if it was the later hours, Hobie would've stuck to teasing you about your reaction. With a sigh and a weak roll of his eyes, he steps in your arms instead of just holding your hand, head resting on your shoulder, yawning as you knead his aching back; you indulge him.

Good thing it's still too early for tourists to flock the area, save for a few scattered ones looking for a place to have breakfast at.

"Apology accepted," leaning back, you straighten the knots on his forehead. "You need better coffee" you scrunch your nose at his closed eyes.

"Or sleep" he grumbles.

"Do you want to sleep for a bit inside the van?" You feel bad for sleeping the entire time. "I'll stay with you don't worry. I won't fall asleep this time."

He shakes his head, slapping his own face to wake himself up. Jumping up and down with you still in his arms. You don't question it, jumping along with him. Metal accessories clinking together, boots thumping hard on the pavement.

Spluttering, he shakes his head vigorously. You giggle at his face.

"Alright, 'm good. Let's go get coffee"

—

You lead a very sleep deprived Hobie by the sleeve of his hoodie, too warm for his leather one yet too cold for just a t-shirt. He lets you drag him along, not because he's disinterested, sleepiness just got the best of him.

Gasping, you point at a unique streetlight. Little statues of a donkey and a man sitting on the metal sides, a curious owl placed on top, looking down on the street.

"Look at that donkey with a guitar!"

Hobie squints through the haziness, "think that's a lute. Kinda looks like you." He still finds the time to tease you even with heavy eyes. A smirk playing on his lips, watching you closely.

"You're the owl then" you let go of his sleeve, taking the camera from your bag, positioning and angling it for the best lighting. He watches your face full of concentration with a faint endearing smile.

Click.

"Got it" you smile, spotting a stand full of maps and information about the place. "Oohh" skipping over the display, you take one. "Hobie, look! Babe?" You look up from the pamphlet when Hobie doesn't reply back.

He walks towards you at a snail's pace. Grunting back in acknowledgement.

You wince, practically feeling his tiredness ooze out of him. "Let's get that coffee. There's a café near here."

"Overpriced coffee" he could only mumble out a protest. While you guide him towards the shop for some much needed refuel. It's not like he has any other choices, all the coffee shops near the area are unnecessarily expensive, save for gas station coffee– which is too far to get to right now, he might fall asleep while driving to it.

Hobie can't let himself drive through the fog of sleep, especially that you're with him. So he surrenders with the promise of getting his pep back so he can drive you safely to the next destination.

—

After gulping down two cups of coffee that made Hobie seethe after hearing the price, he leaves you on the table to go to the loo, your eyes glued on the leaflet, absorbing every word and information on it.

Hobie makes his way back, now wide awake, he watches you put too much milk on your cup, too distracted with reading– it overflows, spilling the hot liquid on the table. He has never loved you more when you jump in your seat, quietly yelping, clumsily wiping at the table with a napkin. He shakes his head with a fond smile and soft eyes.

Hobie asks for more napkins from the cashier, promptly heading towards your table. He helps you wordlessly, wiping, avoiding spilling any more expensive tea.

"Sorry" you expect Hobie to chastise you for spilling your drink, instead, he looks at you with concern and fondness.

"You alright? Didn't spill any on you?"

You smile softly, thankful eyes staring back at him. "I'm okay, it's not that hot anyway"

"Sure?" He takes his tea stained finger on the tip of your nose, leaving a wet patch over it. Green tea wafts your nostrils. "There's some on you"

"Ack!" Wiping it with a clean tissue, you roll your eyes; faint smile telling him otherwise.

"That's how it is then?" He chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. He sits down next to you, drying his hands on a napkin. Arm instinctively flying around your shoulder, holding you close. "Where to go next?"

"Hmm?" You hum, drinking what's left of your tea, "I thought you had it planned?"

"I planned on stopping here, thought you got the next part since you've always wanted to go here, y'know planned the entire trip in your head before"

For a second he thinks that you're disappointed in him for not planning ahead. The thought stops the second you beam at him, hands on his shoulder to anchor yourself on him. lips puckering to kiss him on the cheek quickly since you're in public. Hobie doesn't protest, leaning towards the kiss, angling his face so that your lips just about graze the corner of his lip. You know exactly what he's doing, you let him, moving slyly closer to his lips.

"Oh, you know me so well!" You say excitedly, pulling away, shaking his shoulder for emphasis. "First stop! The river Avon!"

—

"The ferry's closed" you come back to his side with a frown. Gusts of cool air rushes past, rustling your jacket, the leaves on the trees whisper and rustle in the wind, big fluffy clouds providing shade. The river laps at the dock, adding to your downturned lips. "The employee also said Shakespeare's house and the other houses are closed since it's too early"

"We'll just have to come back on our way home then" your frown turns back into a smile, poking his sides teasingly.

"You'll take me back here?" You say with a smirk, playful eyes smile back at him, finger poking his waist. "Ohhh, you're so smitten"

He takes your poking finger with a roll of his eyes, hiding the growing smile on his lips with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Where to now, tour guide?"

"The butterfly farm is open early. Is that okay?"

"Why not?"

"We have to walk there, it's a bit of a trek" you shrug, "it's okay if we don't have time for it"

He calculates in his head, if you only stay an hour more, you two can be right back on schedule; just on time to get to Glasgow without being late for the show.

"We've got time to spare"

"You sure? I don't want us to be late" toe to toe with Hobie, finger still encased in his hand, you ask him anyway even though you know what his answer will be.

"Yes, let's go before people flock this place"

Hand in hand, you take in the sights, stopping from time to time to shoot pictures of the historical houses and buildings. Hobie becomes your model, posing like a natural in front of the lens. He wrangles the camera from you to take your picture right in front of Shakespeare's home and school. Shyness slowly edging away for a while as Hobie hypes you up. Instructing you to pose here and there.

You ran out of film before reaching the butterfly garden, stopping right in front of the royal Shakespeare theatre. The red bricks and dome like structure looms overhead.

"Aww, I think we used it all"

"'ve got more" he takes an extra roll of film from his pocket. You stare at him like he just did magic right in front of your eyes.

"Where'd you get this?" You say, bewildered.

"Brought it with me" he says nonchalantly like he didn't do the sweetest thing just for you.

"Have I told you lately that you're really amazing?" You load film inside the camera, quickly snapping a picture of his smug face.

"No, maybe you should say it often"

So enamored, chest filled with love, you agree. "Mm-hmm, maybe I should. Now, can you stand right there while I take a picture of your amazing face"

—

You finally make it to the butterfly garden. An arch with a large colourful butterfly display greets you. Inside is a beautiful glass greenhouse with a dome ceiling, it shines brightly in the early morning sun, adding to your excitement.

Once paid for the tickets, you and Hobie head inside, you're practically jumping off the glass walls. Hobie's hand leads you inside, preventing you from sliding on the gravel and breaking your ankle on the rough ground.

You're in complete awe of the place, it looked beautiful outside but nothing compares to it once inside. The sun glows brilliantly, bouncing its rays on the glass ceiling and walls. Flora and greenery as far as your eyes could see, strategically placed around the massive greenhouse. The flowery and sweet smells entranced you to explore the entire place, not to mention the colorful butterflies in all shapes and sizes fluttering all around you. Birds make their morning sing-song adding to the fantastical atmosphere.

The look on your face makes waking up a few hours earlier than scheduled makes it all worth it for Hobie. He softly smiles at you, hands clasped comfortably over yours. Eyes sparkling, mirroring yours, he guides you further inside. You let him, neck craned up, watching as butterflies swirl overhead.

Gravel crunches under your footsteps, Hobie stops walking. You almost bumped into him, he tugs at your hand, pointing down on the shrubbery.

"What is that?" You squint, jumping when something green slithers further away from you two and into the thick greenery. "Woah!"

He chuckles at your reaction. You fumble for your camera to capture a photo of the iguana lounging in the warmth, scales as green as the leaves around it.

Click.

"Look, it's you!" You point at its sharp spikes, looking at Hobie with a teasing smile.

"Careful, he bites" he taunts back, making you retract your finger back.

Strolling around more, you take so many pictures, the film Hobie gave you is almost full. You've even snuck in candid pictures of Hobie, and by god, he looked great in all of them. While all your pictures looked like you were at a field trip with your parents, posing with a goofy smile on your face as a butterfly lands on your shoulder.

It's been almost an hour of exploring, so you hold his hand again to tug him towards the exit with a promise of going back, without a time constraint next time.

Crisp air greets you two, hand in hand, you walk by the river, watching as ducks and swans swim on the surface. Their quacking and honking gets louder and louder as they notice you, asking for food.

"Maybe we should've brought rice with us" You mumble, looking at the birds with an apologetic look as if they can understand you.

"Do you think if you fall in they'll eat you?" Hobie asks with a serious look on his face, a small smirk curling on his lips, the only indication that he's fully joking.

"I don't think they'll like me very much, I'm full of bread, which isn't nutritious for 'em" you playfully quipped back, squeezing his hand. He chuckles at your comment.

Hobie slyly moves you away from the river, just in case you actually fall in. He guides you to his right, so that he's the one nearest to the water instead of you. Hand holding your left one, you lean to his side, full of affection in your chest, you softly kiss his shoulder. Whispering softly a 'thank you'

—

You've been quiet for an hour, Hobie side eyes you from time to time. The sudden silence makes him concerned, moreso when your face has contorted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowed, you bite your lips with a sharp inhale.

He's worried since you've been extremely chatty an hour ago, voice filling the van, you help him stay awake. Well until he hit a speed bump that made you squeak out.

"You alright, lovey?" Hobie asks with a squeeze of your thigh.

You sit with a fluffy blanket over your lap, a neck pillow under your head. You look comfortable enough, so why do you look like you're in pain?

You exhale, looking at him through the corners of your eyes without moving your neck. "Mm-hmm"

"Mm-hmm? What's wrong? Is the seat not warm enough?" Hobie looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing your knitted eyebrows.

You ball the blanket under your knuckles. "I'm okay"

He nods, unconvinced.

After a few moments of smooth driving on the highway, cars drive past, you squeeze your thighs together. Controlling your breathing, you try not to think of water.

"Love" he calls for you, "did you see that car with the flame decals on it?" Chuckling softly, he places his hand over your thigh again. Hobie feels the tight muscles under your pants, eyebrow raising in question.

"Y/n" he snickers under his breath. Hands kneading softly at your thigh. Hobie translates the squeezing of your thighs together and your elevated breathing, "I swear if you're hot and bothered, I can't park right here–"

"I need to pee" you say embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. Only finally admitting it so he doesn't actually think you're aroused for some reason.

Hobie laughs loudly, hand slapping the steering wheel. "I told you to go before we left"

"Hobie," you whine. "Not funny, I've been holding it for so long"

"Alright," he clams up, still smiling at your predicament. "There's no gas station near here, love. We're too far away to turn around but we're thirty minutes away from Manchester. We can stop there"

"Thirty?!" You're in agony, hands tucked in between your legs in an attempt to tamp down the need to go.

Hobie moves his hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, kneading softly. He presses the gas, if he hurries you can make it in twenty five without breaking any traffic laws. He makes a joke about you peeing in a bottle which you only glared in return.

Twenty minutes later, you're folded in half on your seat, head layed on your lap, trying to distract yourself by counting the threads in your blanket.

"Almost there, love. Hold on" Hobie pats your head in reassurance. You groan out a reply.

—

You jumped from your seat after a second of Hobie parking the car in front of a gas station. Hand tightening around your travel sized toilet paper.

Hobie patiently waits for you outside the door. Fingers fiddling with his web shooters tucked under his sleeve.

The door creaks open. His neck cranes up to meet your relieved face. "Success?"

"Remind me to not drink anything until we make it to Glasgow."

"You still need to drink some water y'know" he walks back to the car with your pinkies linked together.

"Are we still far?"

"A bit, let's stop by Liverpool to eat lunch" he opens the passenger door for you. You smile sweetly at the gesture.

"Thank you, sorry for being annoying" You hug his waist with one arm briefly just before you hop to your seat.

"Not annoying, tell me next time, yeah?"

"Okay" you lean down to press a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment. He hums into it, his hand right over your shoulder so that you don't fall off.

—

As the van passes through Manchester, you spot the canals, houseboats parked on the side, you get reminded of your shared home.

"Look! That one looks like ours, same color too"

"Missing home already?"

"Kind of. Wish we could stop here, they've got the oldest library in Britain" You lay your head over the window, watching as landmarks pass by in a blur.

"They also have a serial killer too"

You scoff, "in this day and age?" Looking at Hobie's face, you don't see any lie to his comment. Your face falls, "wait, you serious?"

He shrugs, side eyeing you. You have absolutely no idea if he's joking or not, Hobie's good at acting like that, especially if he's teasing you.

"Hobie, you're joking right?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there actually a killer on the loose here?" You instinctively check the door locks.

He doesn't respond, adding to your fear. You completely miss the mischievous look on his face though.

"I don't want to stop here anymore" you mumble.

"We could always take a detour right now–"

"Nope, no thank you" you answer lightning quick.

He hides his smile behind his hand. Maybe he'll tell you all about it on the return trip.

—

An hour later you're sitting down outside a local restaurant in Chinatown, waiting for your food to arrive. The air blows softly, fluttering your lashes. You close your eyes, head resting on your hand, elbow over the table. You can see the faint outline of the Liverpool cathedral underneath the fog. It's gotten a few degrees colder since you've arrived, the streets shine from the earlier rain, petrichor wafts your senses.

Two bowls of warm noodles are placed in front of you. Side dishes, dimsum and xiaolongbao makes your stomach rumble at the sight and savory smell.

"Thank you," you smile at the waiter.

Wondering where Hobie went, lo and behold, he emerges, walking towards you with a paper cup of convenience store coffee. "Food is here, you still need coffee?"

He sits down across from you. "Yeah, needed another boost" Hobie scrunches his nose before standing up again, moving his chair right next to you, avoiding it from scraping the concrete. He sits back down, arm thrown over the back of your chair.

You look at him with a fond smile, heart eyes staring back at Hobie.

"What?" He challenges you with a raised eyebrow and faint smirk.

"Nothin'" you shove him lightly with your shoulder.

"Hm" he hums, you translate it to an 'obviously'

You eat with content, letting him steal some of your broth from your bowl, in exchange, he gives you a dimsum from his share.

—

You do your best at reading the booklet about Liverpool that you've bought before leaving the city while the vehicle moves.

"The guy who designed the cathedral is the same person who designed the red telephone box"

Hobie listens intently with coffee coursing through his veins, stomach full of food, he's properly fueled to drive for more than four hours to Glasgow. His band mates better be there already when you two arrive or he'll wring their necks.

There won't be any more stops until you get to the destination since there'll only be the highway to drive on. It stretches far, cars whirring past. With Sprawling green hills, and mountains curved around the highway makes the drive much more serene. Powerlines on the sides ground you, making it all seem familiar. The weather is foggy, blanketing the England to Scotland border.

The van rattles as Hobie swerves the car to the right. He plants his hand back in your knee, palm circling the curve of it affectionately.

"Ohh, they've got a beach" you stare at the picture of the nature reserve with its sandy windswept dunes, and grassy knolls.

"Add that to the list"

"Okay" you take out a pen from the glovebox, biting the cap off with your teeth, you scribble it on the back of the booklet where there's an empty space. Using your thighs as a table, you add the destination on your little list right under 'old thatch tavern'

"There," you hum happily.

"Is there anything on there 'bout Glasgow?" He kneads your knee with his knuckle.

"A tiny bit" you flip to the back, "they've got a mural trail, we might pass through it on the way. Ooh they also have a glasshouse."

You two pass the time by giving him facts about the places you've passed. Hobie listens in, adding his own knowledge to the mix. An hour later, you're both jamming to his music cassette. You try to make him laugh by banging your head to the song. Whipping your head too hard, you end up banging it on the dashboard.

With wide eyes and laughter threatening to spill out, Hobie comforts you with his palm over your forehead.

You two chat about with you feeding him crisps in between, exchanging stories and playing 'I spy' Hobie ends up winning with his enhanced vision, you challenge him again with a huff. He still wins the second and third round. His prize? Hobie tells you he's gonna hold onto it until you reach Glasgow.

At hour three, the car makes a metal groaning sound in the middle of the highway, you and Hobie looked at each other in fear for a second, silent and waiting for the van to keel over. You both sigh in relief after a few good minutes of silence with the car still running smoothly. Good thing it did because you have no idea how you'll make it to Glasgow if it did decide to just die in the middle of the road.

Before you know it, Hobie parks the van near the venue. Clicking off his seatbelt while you stretch in your seat. Hobie leans towards you, elbow right over the center console, he helps you with your seatbelt before promptly moving his hand to your cheek to face him.

"Can I help you?" You giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "Are you claiming your prize?"

"This isn't my prize, lovey." He softly says against your lips. "That'll wait for later"

"Okay," you feel like your cheeks are on fire.

"This is my thanks" He meets your waiting lips, moving with yours. Cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheeks, you breathe through your nose so the kiss would last longer yet it still leaves you breathless. You feel his hand around your nape, deepening the kiss further.

Hobie pulls away, seeing your pupils completely dilated, chest heaving for air.

"Thanks for what?" You ask breathlessly.

"Comin' with me" with his finger, he wipes the sheen off your lips, it stays there for a second, savoring, longing. For everything.

"You could've asked me to go anywhere and I still would've gone. As long as it's with you."

He answers with another kiss, laced with so much love and thankfulness, you feel it all through it.

A sudden knock has you pulling away, Hobie clicks his tongue at the intrusion. Turning around, he spots his bandmates whistling and wiggling their eyebrows. One was making a gesture that made you hide your face.

"You fuckin' wankers!" Hobie opens the door, slamming it on his friends' faces, they scatter, hooting and hollering, taunting him.

You watch as Hobie play fights with them, arm choking his bass player. With a lopsided smile on your face, excitement bubbles in your chest, the return trip and his promise makes you excited more than anything.

A/N: this fic is long overdue that we're at 700 already! Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my little stories! Love all 700 of you ❤️

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