#even more awful than i would have imagined. fuck that. 2 or 3 fucking weeks of this

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[singmyaubade]

totally just friends

warning : mentions of smut and cursing

sypnosis : what's weird? we are just friends

james potter x female!reader

part 1 / part 2/ part 3

two weeks.

two weeks since james kissing you, two weeks since your entire friend group resented you, and two weeks since you made one of the hugest mistakes you could've made.

time felt so slow and agonizing.

you could deal with claire not liking you but your entire friend group? that was hell.

you knew that what you had did was awful but not being able to explain yourself or to help people realize how guilty you felt was the hardest and most frustrating part of it all.

james was trying to talk to you, you were trying to talk to anyone in your friend group, and they were ignoring you to comfort claire.

you did try talking to claire as well but she would either get really pissed or walk away from you.

this situation was more dramatic than you could've imagined.

now you were currently trying to talk to lily,

"lily please, let me at least explain myself." you begged, trying to talk to her during potions.

she scoffed, "what is there to explain?" she continued to examine her potion, "you betrayed our closest friend and couldn't be honest with her, that's fucked up."

you frowned, "i never meant to hurt her, i didn't even know it would be a dare, i love claire and i never wanted to make her upset." you explained.

she looked at you, "did you love her while you were kissing james?" she sarcastically asked.

"this is fucking ridiculous." you laughed crazily, "you know i would've never done anything to intentionally hurt claire and yes, i made a mistake but-"

lily cut you off, "there is no but, you made a mistake and as much as i want to sympathize with you in the best way i can, you know claire is in the right and didn't deserve that so stop trying to act innocent." she spat.

you had never seen lily so furious, well at you.

proving to claire that you wouldn't do that her again seemed damn near impossible and the resentment and hate towards you was something you couldn't fight.

you wished you could disappear.

but unfortunately, that was not going to be an option.

the class dismissed as you rushed out the door, not wanting to even wait for the dirty looks or snark remarks from claire.

having most of your classes with your friends was actually not the best thing considering the situation.

you spent most of your time on the bench outside during the ten minute break, thinking. thinking about what you could do or what to even say to claire. even if she did slap you and not be the kindest, she still was your best friend at the end of the day.

you were a little pissed at claire for how she was handling the situation but you couldn't blame how she was acting, she was clearly hurt by your actions.

the bell chimed, noting you to start walking to class, holding your books in your hands.

you were lost in thought when someone bumped into your shoulder aggressively, making you drop the books in your hand.

you looked behind you to see who did it and to no surprise it was claire.

"claire, what the fuck?" you angrily said.

she turned around with a smirk, "oh i'm sorry, did you drop your books?" she sarcastically said, pouting.

"this mean girl look is not cute and you know it, you are just being a bitch." you spat.

she inched closer to you, "maybe i wouldn't have to be a bitch if it wasn't for the fact that you couldn't keep your legs closed for the a hundreth time this year." she berated, earning a couple of 'oooh's' from different students.

you scoffed, "do yourself a bloody favor and just walk away, you are only doing this because you are angry which i will excuse this one time." you snapped.

more students from different houses started to gather around.

"oh thank you for permission y/n!" she sarcastically cheered, "that is so mature of you considering all you do is act like a slut for any boy who gives you an inch of attention," she was now face to face with you, "and just for clarification, james didn't kiss you because you had any personality, he only kissed you because you were easy and was hoping to score some." she scowled.

"fuck you." you spat.

"i'm sure you would love to do that considering you have fucked at least everyone in the school." she smirked.

that comment really got you, causing you to punch claire square in her face which made her fall on the floor.

you angrily looked down on her as she had a surprised look on her face from you hitting her.

you realized quickly what you had just done, "claire, i'm so sorry." you extended your hand to help her which she accepted, "my anger got the best of m-" you started.

you were cut off but the impact of her punching you as you feel to the ground and she rose on top of your waist, "you fucking cunt!" she yelled.

she started clawing your face which caused you to scream to which you punched her in the stomach, trying to get her off of you.

you punched her square in the nose, maybe even breaking it.

she yelped in agony, hitting you harder as you pushed her to which she fell opposite of you and you got on top of her. you began hitting her hardly as she reached and pulled at your hair roughly.

you yelled, punching her harder to which she covered her face as you felt someone grab you.

"you fucking whore!" claire yelled from the ground as you looked to see remus trying to pick her up.

you tried to break out of the persons hold but they weren't budging, "fuck you claire." you spat, blood coming out of your mouth.

"calm down." james whispered in your ear, your body relaxing.

as you became unfocused, claire broke out of remus's hold and began lunging towards you.

she punched you in the jaw so hard that you heard a crack. you yelled louder in pain as multiple students began grabbing claire to hold her back.

you grabbed onto your jaw in pain as james began blocking you with his body.

you felt unable to focus, the pain was indescribable. you felt as if your entire jaw was misplaced, you couldn’t believe claire actually had it in her.

james urgently rushed you to the infirmary where pomfrey took a look at you, “merlin!” she said, “excuse my language but your jaw is entirely misplaced.” she touched your jaw as you groaned in pain.

james was holding your hand as you squeezed his hand when you felt pain.

pomfrey went away for a second, grabbing her wand, “this will only hurt for a second.” she said.

before you realized what she was doing, a simple charm placed your jaw back into place which hurt like a bitch.

you yelled loudly, squeezing james’s hand as tightly as you could.

you calmed down after a minute, not feeling as much pain due to a numbing charm.

pomfrey healed most of your bruises and cuts although the claw marks were going to take time to heal.

after a few healing potions and some fixing of your jaw, you had to talk to headmaster dumbledore.

“can you convince him i’m still sick?” you pleaded with promfrey.

she shook her head in dismissal as you sighed. you looked at james next to you who gave you a comforting smile.

“don’t worry, you know dumbledore won’t be so harsh.” he comforted.

you smiled, calming down, “thanks james.” you said, “and thank you for staying with me the entire time.”

he shrugged, “it’s whatever i guess.” he joked as you pushed him a little bit.

“if i’m not expelled, I’ll see you after?” you said, sounding a bit more like a question.

“of course, would die without ya.” he said, embracing you in a hug then holding your cheeks with both of his hands on either side, “i’m sorry you broke your jaw because of something i did.” he sounded genuine which made your heart flutter and due to his hands heating up your cheeks.

you laughed, “it’s okay, i think the kiss was worth it.” you winked, leaving him grinning from ear to ear.

“between you and me,” he whispered, “me too.”

you smiled, “i should get going.”

“yeah, ill see you soon eh?” he said.

“yep.” you replied before heading off.

you went up to dumbledore's office with nerves radiating your entire body. you couldn't believe this is where you were and you couldn't believe that you and claire actually fought.

none of it seemed real.

you took a deep breath as you entered his office, claire sitting on the left side with a scowl on her face.

"come in miss l/n." dumbledore greeted you with a friendly face.

you stepped inside, sitting down on the right side, about five inches away from claire.

"i have heard from many other students and they have claimed to have witnessed that you started the fight." he said, looking at you, "is that true?"

you swallowed, "it is, i was hurt by something claire had said which is no excuse and i got violent." you admitted, looking into your lap, "i apologize."

he nodded, "is there anything you would like to say miss brown?" he asked.

"i apologize too, i reacted out of anger and should've never called y/n such horrible names." she said, "she's my best friend and didn't deserve that."

this caused you to look at her, you were still her best friend.

"hogwarts forbids any sort of violence and you are both mature enough to talk about your issues instead of resorting to that. usually, this would result in expulsion," he said, causing you to widen your eyes, "but i was a teenager once and know that mistakes are not in the list of characteristics nor do they define you and due to that understanding, your punishment will be detention for two months."

a wave of relief hit you so harshly, you wondered if dumbledore could've seen it.

"i appreciate that, nothing like that will ever happen again." you stated.

"agreed." claire nodded.

"i hope so." he said, "and i hope you both realize that friendship is more important than a teenage boy." you both looked at each other in surprise, "with that being said, you may go off to dinner." he dismissed.

you both thanked him, walking out of the room.

you chose to speak first once you both were otuside, "i'm really sorry claire, i should've never done that to you and i was being selfish, i love you so much and you matter more than any boy ever could." you heartfully spoke.

claire was glossy-eyed, "same with me, i'm sorry for ignoring you and well being a bitch," you both laughed, "and for hitting you, i never should've gotten physical."

you smiled, "i completely agree, i should've never hit you, i just want to be best friends again." you said.

"and that we are." she held your hand, "honestly, i think you know how to throw a punch." she joked.

"me? did you see the punch you gave me, knocked my bloody jaw out of place." you both started laughing loudly.

"i didn't think it was hard!" she giggled.

"i swear my jaw will never be the same." you frowned jokingly.

she kissed your cheek, "there, it's fixed, trust me."

"actually, it is feeling a little better now." you agreed.

"and about james, if you want him, you can-"

she cut you off, "trust me, i do not want james anymore, i have realized i like the idea of him and not truly him. plus, pettigrew is actually very kind and hilarious." she said.

relief washed over you, "i always thought you two would be cute." you admitted.

"really? good to know." she winked, "and we both know you and james are meant to be." she added.

you scoffed, "yeah right."

"you should admit it before it's too late." she sent you a smug look, "the way he looks at you is as if you he could look at you for an eternity." she said, looking ahead.

a grin plastered on your face, "really?" you asked.

"yep." she simply said.

it was silent after that, you were too lost in your thoughts. in that moment, you knew that you wanted to be with james potter.

not because it made sense but because he was always there, he always cared.

james felt like an adrenaline rush that never faded or when you are floating on water with your eyes closed.

he made you feel golden.

and i guess you could say that james potter himself was golden.

you both made it to the dining hall, sitting down with the group as they looked at you both totally confused.

"are you guys going to kill eachother again?" dorcas asked.

"yeah because i can totally record." marlene added.

you and claire both started laughing, "i'm afraid there will be no more killing eachother." claire said.

you agreed, "yeah, i think we will stick to being best friends."

"thank the lord, i was really starting to miss you." mary said, looking at you.

"agreed." dorcas said.

"missed you a lot." lily said.

"missed you too lils." you smiled.

"i'm sorry for what i said." lily said.

you squeezed her hand, "i understand why you said it and i love you for sticking with claire." you said, kissing her on the cheek, "i'll be back guys, i have to go do something." you excused yourself as they all nodded, continuing their conversations.

you went up to james and tapped his shoulder, "may i talk to you?" you asked as he looked behind to see you.

"y-yeah of course." he said, getting up.

you both went outside of the hall, "claire and i cleared everything up."

he nodded, hands inside his pockets, "good good, i'm glad."

"yeah and i obviously didn't even get expelled." you laughed.

he chuckled, "amazing news." he said, looking at the ground.

"and i also realized that i kinda like you." you said as he looked at you in shock, "just a little bit." you joked.

"i think i kinda like you too." he cheesily said.

"so potter, will you give the most extraordinary time of my life by letting me take you on a date?" you asked.

he hummed, tapping his chin with his pointer finger, "i meann,"

he suddenly picked you up as you yelped and carried you in the air, "of course i will!" he yelled.

"okay okay! bloody put me down!" you giggled.

"wait does that mean i can finally fuck you?" he asked, jokingly.

"maybe after thirty dates." you said.

he pouted, "thirty?"

you rolled your eyes, "i'm kidding with you, if you take me to a nice place, you can fuck me." you said.

he cheered loudly as you shushed him, "can i kiss you?" he asked.

you mimicked his pretend thinking earlier, "no shit sherlock."

he smiled, placing his hand on you cheeks and kissing you.

and now, you guys weren't totally just friends.

thank you guys for following in on this little series ! i am sorry it took so long, so many holidays. if this wasn't the best ending/ last little part, i apologize. anyways, i hope you enjoyed, love u all sm.

tags : @inluvwfbzarry @bunnyrose01 @fanfictioniseverything @fairysluna @maylaysia109 @margaritasrosadas @slay-and-gay @altyx @axa-00 @mata0-0mata @samihatasmim167890 @yourfairygoodwriter @arac3ly @b-barnes04 @let-love-bleeds-red @malfoylaufeysonweasleybarnes @adrienette715 @greeniegreengreen @siriuslysmoking @swag696942069 @evanpetersrightbigtoe @vpiange @eviesmith1810 @melllinaa @okkulta @mystarlightswiftt @mxm47max @robinbuckleysgfreall

@strangeanndunusual @girl-frm-mars @hfduudus @noob-master-6-9 @tobesolovelysstuff

[ladylooch]

The Spiral [Lio Meier] - Part 4

A/N: One more part after this! things are starting to turn around for our Lio 🤭

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: allergic reaction, lots of medical talk, angst, childhood trauma themes

ICYMI Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The morning after his concussion, Lio thinks it would have been better to have been crushed by a garbage truck. His head hurts so bad, worse than any hangover headache or migraine he’s had in his life. But worse than that is the fog that has settled into his brain. Details of last night are fuzzy- the game, Lucie, their conversation. He thinks things are better, but is worried about facing her this morning.

He rolls over to his back, tentatively opening his eyes. The world doesn’t swirl like it had been last night. But he feels like the front of his forehead is going to explode off from the pressure. Is that normal? Fuck.

Slowly, Lio adjusts his position to sit up. The smell of something baking hits his nose. He smiles. Lucie is still here. It takes awhile before Lio can get out of bed, changed, and hit the bathroom. By the time he is done with that, he feels like he could go back to sleep. Instead, he drags himself towards the kitchen. Lucie is at the stove, a large stack of pancakes to her left. As he gets closer, he can see the rainbow sprinkles poking out of the cakes.

“Lucie pancakes.” He chuckles, approaching her.

“They still hit even as an adult.” She shrugs.

“Doesn’t Stell think these are her creation?”

“Yeah because of her dad.” Lucie rolls her eyes. “Connor thinks she created everything, even though I made these all the time when I was pregnant with her.”

“So he thinks because she was there, she made them?”

“He thinks she created the craving for me, so it’s from her.” 

“Your mom could set that straight.”

“Mmm, I don’t think anyone can set that man straight about his sweet girl.” Lucie takes off two more pancakes. “Sit down and eat. You look awful.”

“Thanks.” Lio mumbles, resting his head delicately in his palm. He sets his elbow on the counter watching as Lucie slaps two pancakes on his plate. “Still hate syrup?”

“Yep.” Lio confirms, picking up his fork to cut into a pancake.

“I heard from Ben. He wanted you to check in when you got up.” Lio nods, grabbing his phone.

While he eats small bites, him and Ben talk about how Lio is feeling. Ben is concerned about the intensity of Lio’s headache. He wants him to go to the hospital for a CT scan. 

“Can you send a car? Lucie needs to go home to her family.” 

“No, I can take you.” She says, waving away his worries. “Con is taking Stell to the rink for practice. She is loving her mommy-free life right now.” Ben and Lio chat more. The team doctor is going to meet them at the hospital and they will know more after the imaging is processed.

Lucie and Lio finish breakfast, then head into Newark. Lucie waits while Lio is being scanned and afterwards while they wait for the radiologist to do a quick read. Everything looks good. Lio’s brain isn’t showing any damage, but he does have one hell of a concussion. The news is good. Lio feels like he can breathe and be more at peace with where he is at.

“You’re going to have to take it easy.” The doctor reminds him. “At least two weeks before you do any exercise.” Lio agrees. He can’t imagine getting on the ice right now with how shitty he feels.

“Is it okay if I drop you off and head out?” Lucie asks Lio when they are back in the car. “Connor is going to the Children’s Hospital to see some of his kiddos. I need to get home before he leaves again.” 

“Yeah, I will be fine. Thank you for staying with me. And.. um tell Connor thanks too. I appreciate it. Know he isn’t my biggest fan.”

Lucie drops Lio in front of his building, then heads back towards her city. Lio’s doorman greets him warmly, opening the big door for him.

“Thanks, Charlie.” 

“Tough one last night, Mr. Meier.”

“Hey, boys pulled out the win tho.” Lio waves as he walks through.

“Your mama is waiting for you in your apartment. She was mighty frazzled this morning.” Lio stops in his tracks. There are two people who have unlimited access to his apartment besides him. One just dropped him off. The other lives in Switzerland. 

“Ah, thanks. Moms…” Lio trails off with a shrug. 

Lio seriously contemplates sprinting out of his building. Doctor’s orders be damned. The only woman to ever love him unconditionally is upstairs and he is not ready to face her. Not ready to see her after the horrible things he said to her. Not ready to face his own shame and self-hatred. It’s why he left Switzerland without seeing her even after telling his dad he wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t deserve her or her love. 

But she is here. Already. He knows how many hoops she must have jumped through to get to him. He senses his dad’s involvement as well. The strings Timo Meier would have pulled for her are unlimited. So Lio Meier gets into the elevator and rises the 6 floors to his awaiting fate. Outside his apartment door, he takes a deep breath, then puts his key in the lock. He pushes the door open, not seeing her on the couch like he expected. 

“Mama?” He calls into the apartment. 

“Lee?” He hears her call from deep inside. She comes rushing out of his room. With zero hesitation, she grabs him and wraps him into her body for a hug. “Oh” She sighs, holding his head against hers. She sucks in a deep breath then lets out a relieved sigh at having him close to her. “Are you okay?” Her brown eyes are deeply pained. Lio closes his eyes, unable to see more. 

“Um, well, I guess but also no. What are you doing?”

“Your laundry.”

“Of course.” He chuckles, shaking his head. He has been grown for awhile, but she still insists on taking care of him. It makes Lio less worried for whatever is to come.

“Well, I was very anxious waiting for you. I had to do something.” She insists, waving a hand in front of her face. “Now, go sit down. I have lemon water, hot oatmeal and toast ready for you.” She gently guides him forward. “And vitamins. You need extra nutrients to get better.”

“Mama.” Lio sighs when she turns to head back to the kitchen. He feels like such a piece of shit with how she is jumping right in to take care of him. The undeserving suffocates him, tightening his throat until he struggles to breathe. “Don’t do this.” He finally chokes out. “Don’t double down and love me harder right now.”

“Lee.” Emma comes back to him, putting her hands on his cheeks. She kisses his forehead, right over where his head aches so badly. “I am never going to stop loving you hard or taking care of you. I’m your mother.” She runs her fingers through his hair, then moves back into the kitchen. His blue eyes follow her.

“Is dad here?”

“Yes, of course. Boys are with Uncle Neeks and Auntie Lex, but Livy is coming this weekend.”

“You both didn’t have to come and Liv needs to stay in California. She has school.”

“Mmm, but we did.” Emma looks over her shoulder at him. “We needed to see that you were going to be okay.”

“Dad isn’t here now?” Lio looks down the hall towards his bedroom.

“No, we felt like it’s you and I that need to talk. Not the three of us.” Lio looks away. “Don’t be mad at daddy. It was me. He didn’t want to do it.” Lio’s blue eyes find her again in the kitchen.

“You don’t get to tell me to not be mad at him.” He whispers.

“Probably not. But I love your dad very much and if I can save him from your wrath, I want to.” 

Lio goes to the couch, sitting down, laying his head back on the top. He is exhausted from his morning. He feels the air of his mom coming around the couch. She puts her hand on his forehead, smoothing the wrinkle of distress there. 

“What’s the news?”

“Concussion.” Lio mumbles. 

“Is your brain okay?”

“Yes.” Emma sighs in obvious relief. Her hand drops to his shoulder. She strokes her hand there, quietly contemplating where to go next. When Lio opens his eyes, she begins.

“Lio, daddy and I love you more than I even know how to say. I never thought I would have to find words to express how much and I’m deeply sorry that you’ve been so hurt.” She sighs, running her hand through her hair, then looking out the floor to ceiling windows to the city. His apartment is only a few blocks from where her and Timo lived when she was pregnant with Lio. That feels like so long ago, but she tries to go back to who she was then to give Lio more insight into their life.

“I was the one who wanted to fudge your story. I know daddy told you that this summer, but he doesn’t know all of the things that went into that. You and I had experiences when you were a baby that made me feel very protective of you. People judged. They were horrible and social media made our life so accessible, even as Daddy and I tried to hide you. But this was never because we were ashamed or didn’t love you.” Disgust and substantial disagreement scrunches Emma’s nose. “It was the exact opposite.” Emma puts her hands on her cheeks for a moment, then continues.

“When you were 10 months old, the Devils were playing in the Eastern Conference finals. Daddy was hurt. He was playing through it as he always does, so he wasn’t performing very well. People were upset.” Lio watches his mom become increasingly uncomfortable. “You and I were out at a store after the Devils went down in the series. There was an incident in public where someone came up to you, a little baby, and called you that name…” Emma closes her eyes. “They went on to literally blamed the entire playoff situation on the fact that you were born out of wedlock. Daddy’s play as well. We were being punished for our sin of having you.”

Lio can see how much this still hurts his mom decades later.

“I’m sorry, mom.” He says sincerely. 

“That person got to me.” Emma shakes her head. “I felt you deserved a better story. A more picture perfect story because of how much joy and purpose you brought to our lives. I..” She sighs. “I felt like we ruined your childhood before it had even really begun. I tried to fix it the way I knew how. Instead I hurt you.” 

“But Lio, please know, I have loved you since the moment I knew of you even when I was crying on a bathroom floor. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to figure it out for you. When I got up off that tile, whatever decision daddy wanted wasn’t going to shake my decision. You were coming because I wanted you. It would be me and you against the world.” Emma stops, looking at him, then she chuckles. “But daddy wasn’t going anywhere. He was all in. He loved us so much. You’ve seen the videos from when I was pregnant with you. Nothing about that was forced.”

Lio remembers the one of his dad laughing hard as a three week old Lio tried to latch onto Timo’s big chest. The pictures of him on the ice at The Rock for the first time in skates that looked massive on his feet. Tons of videos of Lio and Timo napping together the year of the Devils first cup run. He looks across his apartment at a picture of his parents and him with the cup. It was only Lio and them at that time. Well, his mom was pregnant with Livy, but they barely knew that. Although the most difficult to win trophy in sports is right there, his dad’s hands are on a young Lio, engulfing him and his mom in his sweaty equipment.

“It felt like a lie.” Lio hears himself say. He gestures to the picture. Emma follows his gaze. “Like it looked like that. But then you and dad would make a comment about wanting me so bad you couldn’t wait and my whole life felt like a lie.” Emma swallows hard, nodding.

“I see that now, Lee. I’m very sorry. But that was real. That was our life, baby.” She reaches for his hand.

“It hurt me.” He whispers. Emma winces, then runs her hand up his arm to squeeze his shoulder.

“I know. I am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Emma purses her lips together, then looks at Lio with tears in her eyes. She brushes her thumb over the hairs behind his ear. “So loved. So wanted. Never a mistake.” Lio nods, then reaches to hug her. They hold one another tightly. 

“Love you, mama.” Lio inhales heavily. “I can see how you wanted to protect me.” 

“I love you, Lee. So much sweet boy.” When they pull apart, Emma stands to grab Lio more water, then comes back to the couch.

“She wasn’t even pregnant.” Lio confesses. “False positive.” 

“Oh.” Emma blinks. This is the first time she is hearing this. “How does that make you feel?”

“Relieved.” Lio answers honestly. “More than any of the other reasons I said this summer… I just don’t want kids, mama.”  Emma nods. She has suspected so for awhile. 

“It’s your life. You get to decide. But you need to be more careful because at some point, it becomes not your choice.” 

“Kay, pot.” Lio jokes with a light-hearted smirk. Emma tisks, chuckling and smacking Lio’s leg.

“Don’t slut shame your mother. You didn’t see how good James Bond looked that night.”

- - -

A brisk and skin drying wind has picked up on the East coast in the middle of November. Old man winter is roaring its way to the East coast with a winter storm warning in effect beginning tomorrow. With the impending weather, things are sure to get dicey in the booming metropolis of New York City. Despite the lingering effects of his concussion agitating him today, Lio is currently being dragged from room to room in the Bubble Planet by Stella Wood.

“This way! This way!” She yells, struggling to pull his heavy weight with her little body.

“Stell, I’m coming. Just chill.” He laughs.

“She doesn’t know that word. She’s three.” Lucie jokes back to him. 

They weave through room after room, each one more exciting than the last. Stella is having the time of her life, especially when she is on Lio’s shoulders, getting to touch the bubbles falling from the ceiling.

“Mama, this is the best day! I wish daddy could come!” Lucie and Lio avoid looking at each other, just like they avoid the giant elephant that is Connor Wood between them.

Although Lucie and Connor have discussed more about what happened this summer, he is not ready to move on. It got particularly heated when Lucie asked if Stella could see Lio. Connor questioned Lucie’s motives, worried about the implications and confusion Stella would have about Connor not being there. These were fair and valid points, but her inquisitiveness hurt less than her tears about missing Lio.

“Baby, you do what you need to do, but I’m not interested in spending time with him or fixing this. I’ve made concessions along the way. This is where I am at. Stell stays here with me.” 

Lucie respected that. She dropped it completely. But suddenly the next morning, Connor had given her quiet permission for her to bring Stella to breakfast with Lio. That was a month ago. Connor heads to the rink on days when his girls are meeting up with Lio, always having an excuse about training or treatment or nutrition. Lucie kisses him extra hard on those days, wanting him to know she loves him deeply and understands so much of this is difficult for them.

Now, as she watches Stella up on Lio’s shoulders, all she can fathom is the immense hole Connor’s absence brings. 

“Baby, are you getting hungry?” Lucie asks her daughter as they bop out onto the New York avenue.

“Yeah.”

“What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“You had that for dinner last night.” Lucie laughs.

“She is a good Swiss girl!” Lio nods approvingly. 

“Her favorite is Kraft.” Lucie points out.

“We’ll work on it. She’s three, ya know.” He jostles Lucie’s shoulder, then immediately regrets it at the way the world swirls upright for a minute. “Oof.” He rubs at his temples.

“Careful, Lee. No setbacks.” Lucie cautions, gripping his shoulder.

The three of them head a few blocks down to a diner, settling into a red booth with huge, plastic menus and a coloring page for Stella. Lio sits on her side of the booth, taking turns coloring a troll in a field of daisy. 

“Not pink!” Stella scrunches her nose, pushing Lio’s hand away.

“What? You said I could pick any color.”

“Yeah, any one but pink.”

“You love pink?”

“When I was two.”

Lucie and Lio both snort, attempting to pursue their lips to keep their laughter in. Stella Wood is an absolute hoot. 

“Can I share a milkshake with you?” Lucia asks Lio.

“I was gonna share with Stell.” 

“Oh, I see how it is.” She raises her eyebrows then looks away with a smirk at her menu. She decides on a simple Strawberry shake. “Stell, do you want to share with uncle Lee?”

“Yeah.” 

“Which flavor?”

“Reese’s! His favorite!” 

“No, you can’t have those, baby. You’re allergic to peanuts.”

“No peanuts in there?”

“Yes, there is peanut butter.” Lucie calmly reminds her.

“Sorry, Uncle Lee. I get sick.” She pats her little pot belly. 

“It’s okay. I was thinking chocolate.”

“Oh yes.” The little girl sighs happily.

The waitress comes and takes their orders. The adults grab cheeseburgers with fries while Stella happily exclaims she needs Mac and Cheese. The waitress practically swoons out of her Keds at how sweetly Stella thanks her for going to get their food. More coloring is done and a quick few games of hangman using three letter words like cat and dog and hat. Stella is getting so good at her ABCs. The milkshakes come out first. Stella watches in awe as the shake is split between two cups for her and her uncle.

“You gonna be able to finish that?” Lio asks. 

“Mhm.” Stella nods enthusiastically. With one hand she grabs the glass while the other helps her balance on the table top. She sucks up the milkshake quickly, then sputters, coughing. 

“Oh, that was a big sip. It’s cold, huh?” Lucie chuckles, handing Stella her water glass. She holds it up to the little girl’s lips for a sip.

“Ah!” She exclaims. “Mmmm.” She sucks up more of the thick liquid. Lio and Lucie chuckle, watching Stella enjoy her ice cream. Lio leans back farther in the booth, looking across the table at his cousin.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today. I missed this.”

“Me too.” Lucie murmur. Stella coughs again, loudly, then seems to gag. Stella sits up straighter, looking Lucie in the eyes with wide orbs. “Are you okay, baby?” Lucie straightens. Lio sits up as well, reaching out for Stella. She makes a wheezing noise, then sticks her tongue out. 

“Oh my god. Stell?” Lucie covers her mouth, watching a red, angry rash begin to form on Stella’s face. Lio grabs Stella as she begins to sway backward.

“She is very warm.”

“What is going on?” Lucie whispers, she looks around the table then she smells it, the faintest whiff of peanut butter coming from the ice cream in the glass Stella was drinking. “Oh my god. Peanut butter.” She reaches for her purse, fumbling around. “Um.. ohmygod.”

“Do you have an Epipen?”

“Um.” She nods vigorously, beginning to pant herself. Her stomach tightens, fear dashes down her spine. She rips her hands through the contents of her purse, looking for the injection she always carries with her since the first reaction Stella had a few months ago in Switzerland. But it wasn’t like this. It was nothing close to this. 

“Luc, come on.” Lio calls to his cousin, picking up Stella into his arms. “You’re okay, baby. It’s okay!” He tries for a cheery voice as Stella being to sob. “Luc, dump the purse out.” Lucie picks the bag up, emptying it from the handles. Lio sees the EpiPen immediately, tossing the cap off hastily. He does the injection, pausing to watch Stella’s reaction. Her wheezing gets tighter, but she can no longer speak to him or even cry. Lio’s heart is racing in his chest as he watches her struggle.

“Do you have another one?”

“No! It’s with Connor at home.” She shakes her head frantically. “Oh my god. Someone call an ambulance!” Lucie sobs out to the restaurant. In the haste of dumping her purse out, her phone fell underneath the booth. But she is frozen in paralysis. She can’t move. She can’t breathe. She is forced to watch her baby struggle.

Adrenaline takes over Lio like he was injected with the epinephrine. He calculates out where they are in the city, the amount of time it will take for an ambulance to get there and he knows Stella’s chances of making it are slim with how much she is struggling even after her first injection. He has seen this before with a kid in school when they still lived in Jersey. 

“There isn’t time for the ambulance. I’m taking her to Children’s.” The hospital is at the end of the three blocks they walked from Bubble Planet, close to Lucie’s car. Lio secures Stella to his chest and begins to run from the restaurant. He leaves Lucie at the table to scramble her things back into her bag. He runs as fast as his body will go. Stella jostles against his shoulder, going limper and limper and Lio quite literally races against time. 

“You’re going to be okay, Stell. it’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promises the little girl in his arms. 

Tears blur his vision. His concussion rears it’s ugly head, pulsing against his temples and making the sidewalk shift with his blurred vision. He can’t let that stop him. Stella needs him. He pushes his injured and weak body to go harder the next block, dodging pedestrians and cabs in walk ways and dogs on leashes. He hits the emergency entrance of the hospital, screaming for help. 

“Help! Please! My nieces is going into shock! She was exposed to peanuts!” Nurses swarm him, snatching Stell immediately and taking over. 

“Did you give her Epinephrine?”

“How was she exposed?”

“Is this her first exposure?”

Lio answers the questions as best he can. Yes, ingested and no. He looks over his shoulder, wondering when he can expect to see Lucie. But then they are taking Stella away on her bed. Another nurse holds him back as they rush down the hall with her. 

“Sir, I need you to wait in the lobby.”

She is right. He needs to wait for Lucie anyway. But that doesn’t make it easier to turn around. He heads to the doors he just sprinted through, avoiding the gazes of curious onlookers. He walks outside into the cold air. His chest tightens immediately and he turns to the side, looking for something he can vomit into. But then he sees Lucie Wood, rushing down the sidewalk, clutching her purse to her chest, sobbing so loud he can hear every inhale and exhale of her shaking body.

“Luc, they’ve got her.” Lio calls to her. He opens his arms up and Lucie collapses into his body. His shirt is immediately wet from her face. Large hiccups shudder her frame against him. He squeezes her tight, smoothing her hair down. “It’s going to be okay.” Lio whispers to her, hoping that maybe if they chant that together, it will make it real.

Several minutes pass. Lucie continues to sob into Lio’s body, even after he moves her inside to get out of the wind. The doctors come out looking for him, finding him and Lucie together. Stella is stable. They can go see her, but she will need to stay for several hours for monitoring as they had to give her two more injections. Lucie heads right into her daughter’s room, curling up with the little girl who looks drugged and exhausted in the center.

“Mama is here. You’re okay.” She cries to her daughter. Stella is upset and shaken from the ordeal. She clings to Lucie like a monkey, balling her shirt up in her little fists. 

“LuLu, do you want me to call Connor?”

“Yes.” Lucie whispers, barely able to get the word out of her shaking lips. She reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, handing her phone to him. “If you call he won’t answer.” She says simply. Lio tries to brush that off like it doesn’t hurt, but it stings as bad as the wind biting his cheeks during his sprint to the hospital. 

Lio takes a deep breath, then clicks on Connor’s contact. His heart is pounding in his chest like he’s about to take a face-off in the final minute of a trailing game. He licks his lips, leaning agains the wall, waiting on the call to connect.

“Hey baby! I’m just about to leave.”

“Ah.” Lio coughs. “Hey, it’s Lio.”

Silence.

“Where is Lucie?” A definite snap tightens the words through the line. 

“She’s with Stella. She asked me to call you and tell you what is going on.”

“What? Are they okay? What..” 

“Lucie is okay.” Lio starts.

“Stell? Whats wrong with her!?” Connor’s voice is beginning to escalate. “What did you do, Lio?” Connor snaps. Lio closes his eyes. 

“I didn’t do anything. It was a mistake at the restaurant.”

“Fuck!” Connor yells. “Where are you?”

“At Children’s hospital off 34th.”

“You have to tell me what happened, Lio.”

“I’m trying to, but you’re not letting me get much out here, man.” Connor sighs. Lio takes his silence as compliance. “We were out grabbing lunch and she had an allergic reaction and we had to bring her to the hospital. Her Epipen wasn’t enough.”

“Fuck, I have the second one. We usually have the two together, but Lucie and I had plans the other night and…” Connor’s voice is distraught.

“It happens. But you should get down here. They need you.”

“I’m on my way.” 

Lio removes the phone from his ear, looking at the lock screen of Lucie, Connor and Stella. Lio took that photo of them this summer in Switzerland, before everything happened. He sighs heavily, then comes back into the room.

“Connor is coming.” Lio assures Lucie. She doesn’t take her crying eyes off the little girl in her arms. She sniffs and nods in acknowledgement, continuing to touch her daughter’s face soothingly. Lio can’t tell if it’s for Stella or Lucie.

Connor Wood arrives thirty minutes later with squeaking sneakers on the tile floor of the hospital hallway. Lucie and Stella are dozing in an overwhelmed sleep. Lio sits in the chair next to them with one hand on Stella, rubbing her arm. Lucie’s hand clings to his wrist, needing comfort in one of the worst moments of her life. 

“I’m a terrible mom.” She had told Lio tearfully.

“You’re not. It was scary.” 

“What if you weren’t there?”

“It doesn’t matter. I was.”

“Luc! Stell!” Connor rushes into the room then locks in on Lio. He shifts his worried eyes to the bed, seeing Lucie and Stella curled together. His lips pull into a deep frown, then his eyes seemingly dim when he takes in Lio in the place he should be.

“They’re resting, Lucie is pretty upset.” Lio says as he slowly works his wrist out of Lucie’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to see me. I’ll leave now, I just didn’t want to leave the girls alone before you got here.”

“What happened?” Connor asks. Lio can see the way his chest rapidly raises and falls beneath the Rangers logo on his chest.

“Stella somehow got a peanut butter shake at the diner. Wrong order. She had some and started having a severe reaction.” Connor’s face gets ghostly pale. He puts his hand on his head over his blue hat, waiting for more. “Um, Luc, She… she panicked. It was all scary. Truly awful. But I gave Stell the injection, but it didn’t do enough. She became mostly unresponsive.” Connor closes his eyes, bringing his hands to his face in anguish. “There wasn’t time to wait for help, so I grabbed Stella and ran here with her.” 

“You ran?”

“Yeah. Stell didn’t have time.” Lio reiterates. If he is mad at Lio for that, then so be it. Maybe it was reckless, but Lio had to make a judgement call and Stell is going to be okay because of it. Connor stares at Lio. Then suddenly he steps forward around the bed. Lio stands up taller, preparing for anything. Connor wraps an arm around Lio’s shoulders to bring him into his body. Lio brings his hands up, clasping Connor’s back as they share a deep, sincere hug. 

“Thank you.” Connor whispers, tears coating his voice. Lio squeezes Connor tighter, not wanting to let go of his best friend. Suddenly, it hits Lio. How close they were to losing Stell. How dire she had looked when he ran through the doors of the ER. How Lucie had every right to be that terrified at the table. It had been bad. Horrible. Worst case scenario. 

Lio can’t help it. He begins to sob. Everything that has happened the last few months weeps out of him. From losing Savannah, to screaming at his parents, to only having his little sister, to losing the three people in this room with him. His concussion… almost losing Stella on that New York street.

“It’s okay, Lee. She’s going to be okay.” Connor puts his hand on Lio’s head. “You saved our girl.” Lio nods, shuddering as he pulls away. Both men wipe their faces with their hands, then look over to the two girls laying in the bed. Stella has a sleepy grin on her face, watching them.

“Daddy!” She giggles, reaching out to him, flexing and unflexing her fingers for him to come closer.

“Hi baby.” Connor smiles brightly, leaning down to kiss her cheeks. “Can I lay with you and mama?” 

“Yeah.” Stella yawns as she says the word. 

“Sleepy.” Connor chuckles, kissing her again. He curls her and Lucie into his body, trying to be careful not to wake his wife. Lucie jolts up at the feeling of his hands on her. “Me, Luc. It’s me.” She visibly relaxes when she sees her husband. “I’m here.” He brushes her cheek with his thumb. 

Lio watches from the end of the bed, then anxiously rubs at his forehead. He clears his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Um, well I’ll head out so you all can be together.”

“No, don’t go.” Lucie shakes her head. 

“It’s okay, Luc. I’ll see you later.” 

“You should stay with us.” Connor says softly. “We want you here.” The insinuation of the we has the corners of Lio’s mouth sliding up.

Lio makes his way back to the chair by the bedside, sitting down in it. Him and Connor share a look of understanding. Lucie trails her nails along Stella’s back as another big yawn stretches her little mouth. 

“Uncle Lee?” Stella murmurs.

“Hm?”

“You gonna be here when I wake up?”

“Yeah, Stell.” He sighs. “I’ll be right here.”

[t-w-i-l-l-e-r]

pondering jeremy n rich friendship dynamic post-canon n y’all that shit is craaaaaaaaazzzzzzzzy. Cause I highly highly highly doubt rich just completely dropped all of his self destructive tendencies from during/before canon n I think they would defo show up BIG TIME in his relationship w/ Jeremy. Like, they have the whole squip thing in common right? That’s what they bond over at first!!! same trauma, Spider-Man pointing meme, etc etc. (that plus they were literally shoved into the same hospital room for however long. nothing brings two lost souls together like watching the nurses swap out each others bedpans. shudders in disgust <3). But the thing is like. Rich did that. He not only literally encouraged (n lowkey threatened) Jeremy to buy/take the squip, he also had a direct hand in building the insecurities that made Jeremy interested in a squip at all. Now, as an audience we can generally recognize Rich as a Very Vulnerable And Manipulated Child but if rich had that kind of self-awareness the plot of be more chill would be veeeeeery different so im gonna go out on a limb n say Rich feels megazord guilty for that. And that’s where the self destruction comes in </3. Rich keeps trying to goad Jeremy into snapping at him or being angry in the hopes of getting Jeremy to “finally stand up for himself” but rly he just wants Jeremy to be mad at him bc Rich is mad at himself n feels like he deserves it. I am a VERY firm supporter of Jeremy Heere Snarky Arc post-canon (bc I feel like we see a lot of Jerry Sass in bmc but it’s limited to either just in his head or (affectionately) to Michael), n I think Rich would absolutely play a role in Jeremy developing that side of himself. BUT. Not necessarily in the way rich wants. Bc again, same trauma!!!! Jeremy recognizes that rich understands him now in a way that nobody else rly does. even the ppl squipped @ the play don’t rly understand what that thing does 2 a person after a while, and jeremy rly needs rich after everything, more than either of them realize. He’s not willing to just reject rich out of hand like rich subconsciously wants him to so you get this dynamic that’s just like:

Rich: aw, you mad? You upset lil bitch boy? Whatcha gonna do about it huh???? Hit me???? Do it i dare you!! Fucking hit me!!!!!

Jeremy: rich it is 9 in the morning. 

And I think rich would very quickly learn that ~friendly ribbing~ n stuff is a slippery slope with Jeremy. On one hand, if he teases Jerry n he rolls his eyes n snarks right back, HELL YEAH!!!! Revenge Of The Nerd!!!! Mission accomplished!!!!!!! Rich sees a lot of himself in Jeremy n I think he would be very genuinely proud of him for not just taking shit like he used to (and rich might also think jeremy is actually clever n funny n like that jeremy feels comfortable around him n bond bond relationship sssssshhhhhhhhhh). On the other hand, sometimes rich hits a little too close to home n Jeremy goes quiet. He gives a curt response, or just doesn’t say anything at all. That shit drives rich crazy. Rich says smth shitty about Michael or Christine or smth n Jeremy doesn’t talk to him for a week n by the end Rich is pulling his hair out n just word-vomits “IM SORRY IM A DICK PLZ CAN WE GO BACK TO PLAYING CALL OF DUTY TOGETHER” 

And the thing that fucks me up the most is that. Jeremy is afraid of Rich. Not as much as he was before (I’d imagine watching Rich bitch n moan every time he had to get his bandages changed kinda sanded down the edges a lil bit) but he can’t just forget all that bullying, even if he wants to. For rich, the worst moments r when he goes too far with trying to get Jeremy to b aggressive n instead he just goes pale. His mouth draws into a thin line n he gets fidgety but not the loose stimming of when he’s relaxed or deep in thought, sharp and tight motions like he doesn’t want to be spotted. And he won’t meet Rich’s eye. GIRL!!!!! How does rich even begin to process that emotional LABYRINTH bc like, he feels shitty bc he spent so long trying to fix his self hatred by being a dick 2 Jeremy but now he realizes being a dick is actually… dickish. And unpleasant. And so now he has more self hatred about it. Oops. And then Jeremy’s having a shit time bc PANIC MODE SCARY LOUD but then I think he subconsciously realizes rich feels bad so he feels bad for making Rich feel bad and ugh. Ugh. Yikes. 

But then the thing is,,, Rich can make a joke. Maybe reference their shared SQUIPerience—SQUIP experience, obvi—emphasize the connection between them (rich has gotten rly good at managing potentially dicey social situations. You’ll never guess where he got that skill from). And Jeremy will laugh, a little forced at first but rich keeps going until he’s curled up on the ground, cracking up like he’s about to piss himself. And Rich feels a little bit like he dodged a bullet but a little bit like he gained a friend so? If u add it all together it basically cancels out, he thinks. So they keep talking and hanging out and playing fuckin Call of Duty together and it’s not an apology, not really but… it’s a start, y’know? 

N that’s what gets me about Rich n Jeremy post-canon </3. They both need each other, and they both know it. They understand each other in a way that nobody else in their immediate circle does which is important bc we know how much Jeremy struggles talking 2 new ppl and post-fire Rich is too busy putting the burnt up pieces of his life together to reach out to other SQUIPtims. Jeremy is comfortable around rich in a way that he is with nobody else in the world because he gets it, and Rich feels the same way whether he likes it or not. But Jeremy is also so deathly terrified that it’s all gonna be an elaborate bit, that Rich is unfixable and will always treat him like human garbage or worse Jeremy is unfixable and will always b treated like human garbage. And Rich in turn is afraid of Jeremy’s fear, what it means about himself that he could ruin someone’s life so thoroughly. But then he like? Wants to get Wendy’s with him. So it’s like. Whatever. 

FUCK! 

[jorisjurgen]

1 2 7 11 12 14 17 21 23(im evil) 28 29 (im eviller) 31 33 34 41 42 (for funsies) 43 (im EVIL) 45 56 56 56 56 56

I FINALLY GOT TO YOUR MESSAGE BESTIEEEE i was scared of answering it during the week because i knew it would take me ages.

Excluding the questions I've answered to other ppl, obv. THIS IS JUST A PART 1 OF ALL YOUR QUESTIONS.

What’s the lie your character says most often?

Atcham: he doesn't really lie enough to have a reoccuring one. He just says whatever comes to his mind, I think. Kerubim: literally everything he says is a lie. Especially when talking about past events. He will randomly make shit up, even while knowing that the other two KNOW that he's doing that. Joris: "I am in awe of your intelligence, your majesty. This will be a wonderful move, even if it may upset the leaders of Brakmar."

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

Atcham: he doesn't, except for saying it ironically. Kerubim: anyone he's known for longer than an hour. Joris: likely to apply this word to people with whom he shared 2 near-death experiences with, because now they are connected through the Cosmic Bonds of Fate.

What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

I'm not imaginative enough to say what I would yell, but I know what they'd yell to one another.

Atcham: "Someone is mistreating Brakmarian steel swords" Kerubim: "There are discount 90yo chairs here" Joris: "Khan merch from 200 years ago?!"

All of them love buying stuff, so yeah.

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

Atcham: any specific-ass sword facts. Kerubim: what were you doing in Bonta 610 years ago in a boutique with your girlfriend at 10 o'clock and what colour was her dress. Joris: what time he worked until last night. Any answer that isn't "3-4am" is sus.

A more emotional answer is that across 600 years they probably have got a lot of some very hyperspecific things to ask one another.

How do they put out a candle?

Sadly, I think they all just blow on it. Maybe clap and then it magically disappears. I am not a candle expert (candxpert).

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

Atcham: most people notice he's bald. he, too, notices that, and never fails to think that it's off-putting. Kerubim: most people noitce how fluffy he is. Kerubim himself notices some random knots in his fur. It's very knot-prone, and he's a bit lazy about brushing his fur. Joris: most people think he's a child, or if they don't they still notice his height. While Joris's daily concern with the mirror is "do I need to tear out some new scales? [checks chin] [checks neck] [checks cheeks] [checks his head]"

What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?

Atcham: all of it, and no, he doesn't. Kerubim: I don't think he gives a fuck in general. Joris: all of it, yet he still follows. He hates hierarchical things, and he hates hyper specific fork and knife rules, and he hates the way teachers expect children to rise from their tables and bow and greet them, before the classes. But he copes and seethes silently, his whole life. He appreciates the way these things make him come off as more respectable than he may really be, though.

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

Atcham: the Brakmarian approach to building pipe bom—— Kerubim: how to survive your 5th divorce. Joris: why you don't need any relationships or friendly acquaintances outside your family and why that's healthy actually.

What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

Atcham: Kerubim's tolerance of customers that can be psychologically destroyed instead. Kerubim: Atcham keeps scaring away the customers (Joris does too, but it's a "his noble X vs. Atcham's barbaric Y" situation.) Joris: Kerubim keeps adding way too much sugar to coffee and makes tea way too dilute. It makes him dream of killing both him and himself.

[jenyifer]

I mean I feel like… it could have been better but not awful? Could have been more interesting all the same I did laugh. I did like 2/3 end game couples.

7.5/10 🌶️/5

Sell: The tense return to England with the scooby doo gang. The mains break off go in diff directions until the end. I enjoyed Penny a lot more than previous books. I could understand her actions a lot better. I do wonder why she didn’t check on Agatha but…. I guess Penny was busy the book takes place over a week. Simon is still difficult. Baz had less personality than in the other two books which was a shame. He’s still the best character but… I’ll get into it. I loved Agatha falling in love with Niamh I even had a sus feeling that might have been her problem with Simon. I enjoyed her and Simon getting a scene to be friends again with the goats.

The cons though were a lot. One I think this book and previous should have been in the same book. It would take place over 2 weeks maybe.

Two I can’t imagine waiting for this last book getting it in your hands reading the SimonBaz break up scene then them getting back together the next day. 😩😩 was Simon’s grievance with Baz actually fixed no. Because Simon still has very toxic thinking about himself. Baz doesn’t have self respect which yeah I’d get it if Simon hadn’t been acting increasingly distant for the past year and a half and only liking Baz when they are fighting. I don’t know felt icky and a let down after wayward son was so fucked.

Three so much I don’t fucking understand. So the series really goes out like this? I mean I can see leaving it semi open seems like it’s a popular series I can see why it’s funny it’s engaging. But…. 😵‍💫idk in the last book I wanted to know what had happened to Simon’s mom? She was scarified to…. Put a dragon in Simon like a tailed beast from Naruto? Simon didn’t get to know Lucy. I was hoping maybe he could have become friends with Agatha and they could find that out together since Agatha is also a golden girl? Wasn’t Lucy referred to that way(Still don’t know what’s going on there? Is the school better now?) I also would have liked Baz to idk get better conditions for vamps in England? They don’t have to be all bad. Baz could do some stuff just with hybrids in general with Shep at his side. Baz still doesn’t accept who he is. Simon has no clue what he is, he’s going to be a dragon right? That’s why dragons came from the humdrum? I also would have loved more Agatha and Niamh. Seems very… anticlimactic but okay? Penny’s good with leaving Simon Baz and Agatha? I guess? The wizard world is still insane? Also the cult guy being the final boss… just… meh of an end.

[onedivinemisfit]

2022 Creator’s Self-Love Extravaganza

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2022. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love!

Tagged by @bubblesthemonsterartist tho I daresay I am fashionably late at this point, more than two weeks into the new year. Did I forget? Maaaaybe. Which brings us right to the main problem;

I barely remember. Like. 2022. At all. Things happened, I’m sure, but it’s as if there’s a fine layer of mist atop my memories, stopping me from really seeing them. Last year wasn’t really very kind to me. For every up, three downs followed, and between two failed surgeries, a bout of covid, and then whatever the hell kind of flare happened in the autumn… yeah. Idek. It is what it is.

As such, I can’t really comment on my art as like, a whole process, this year. It just existed in the ‘now’, which is presently the ‘then’. I know I beat my submission record from last year, but it felt like a meaningless victory. Despite everything, I can feel it in my hand now, when I draw, that some progress has been made. Subconsciously perhaps, but it’s there.

Onto the ranking then! (I just had to pull up the archive cuz fuck if I remember what I posted, and when)

1.

*deep sigh* we all saw this coming, didn’t we? As much as I love, I curse this image, for in hindsight it felt as if all my creative energy for the entire damned year went into this one piece! Like how dare! But yes it is one of my best redraws ever, and more so than the characters, I feel like I added to the background something even better than the original. There, I said it.

2.

Omigod this entire thiiiiiing. Were it not for the redraw, this would be the top spot. I can’t explain, so many ideas are left in the brain for countless hours, days, months, YEARS. This was two years in the making, and never before did I manage to recreate something that had the exact same vibe as it looked in my imagination. Especially because I’m not a comic creator, hashtag compulsive disclaimer lol. Also while I was drawing it, seeing people go from “hmmm what’s this?” to “wait is that-?” and then “ooooooh it is the lead-up to The Thing” was priceless.

3.

A last-second outlier comes in third. I admit to making this in a hurry, just to have something really nice to show for december (a month which is usually a highly productive month to me, but 2022 didn’t let me have that either) and as such, since I was struggling, both with a deadline, and a lack of real inspiration, I feel like. I managed to improve, somehow. Call it magic, but this looks noticeably different to many of my other colored pieces.

4.

To be perfectly honest, this was a sketch. People might not think it one, for it has details, a color scheme, and even effects - but at the time I posted it, this was just a colorized sketch in my mind. Tumblr disagreed. And I was left in awe watching this first get reblogged within the fandom, then beyond, then go through a hanfu appreciation blog, and finally reblogged with a truly tender chinese poem attached that said person felt gave them the same vibe as what I had drawn. The people spoke, and I was both awed and humbled, and I learned a valuable lesson in humanity relating to art.

5.

Unlike the others, this was a conscious attempt at something different. I can’t really say why it should go in the fifth spot, but it does; i spent a lot more time than usual on composition, colors, and most importantly, mood setting. And putting characters so solidly into the middleground can be a challenge in itself for me, as I run the risk of getting storybook-ish. Which would’ve been disastrous for a scene like this.

Honorable mention;

Coping through art. @bubblesthemonsterartist has the honor of inspiring this, or like, being the one to “give me” the go-ahead to channel some of my experiences through the characters and story-telling in general. Back pain is something I know all too well, and it was well and truly therapeutic. I also got to do another test of “can I retell this scene, even if I switch part of the cast and premise?” And it seems I did. I will always remember @what-plant-metaphor-am-i ‘s tag; ‘# I feel like I just watched an entire episode XD’ <- never has my inner storyteller been more validated.

There, that wasn’t so hard! Sometimes I’m really thankful for the internet, and timestamps, and kicking my memory back into gear etc… anyway, since I am so woefully late to the party, I’m not tagging anyone specifically; if you wanna be fashionably late too, you know who tagged you~

[hongism]

yall know what time it is. ITS BREAKING THE ASKBOX TIME SJJSKALALALKAKSKWLWMNSNDDJKDK

honestly i expect nothing short of a masterpiece the moment i saw the notification. YOU! DO! NOT! DISAPPOINT! EVER! MISS CALY!!!

before getting into the crazier bits of this chapter, i wanna acknowledge how much you’ve grown as a writer during this series 🥹 recently i started re-reading some of the older moc chapters, and not to say that your writing wasn’t great before in any way, but the way you write now is so much more refined and beautiful, and i guess some of that is also attributed to how intense the story line and characters have developed. seriously, i’m so grateful to be able to read something and feel just how much effort and love the author has poured into in. now i can go on and on about praising your talent but i digress for the sake of discussing more… pressing issues that goes on here :)

*SPOILER ALERT FROM THIS PART*

now that jisung, hyunwoo and even hyunjin (sadly) has reached their demise, it finally dawns on me that this really is an end of an era. we spent like the past 1 or 2 maybe even 3 acts going through a gazillion emotional roller coaster rides all caused by jisung, but now is it weird that i’m kinda sad that he’s gone? it’s a perfect ending since jisung will probably never get his redemption even if he lives, but idk, i think it’s kinda depressing how love makes you do crazy shit :/ hyunwoo, on the other hand, BYE YOU ASS LMFAO WELL DESERVED. the only thing that dude has is the fucking audacity until the very last minute.

the action scene was beyond immaculate just as the emotional ones and there’s no doubt about that. im writing this with metaphorical tear streaks down my face and a broken heart after reading the whole chapter. you’ve got a way with words that can make me feel like i’m living and breathing in this fictional world. also, can we talk about this:

“Give me what’s mine first”

“Let her go immediately, you dog, or I’ll put a bullet in your head too.”

WELL GOD DAMN SIR. i’m gonna be fr and say i was SO certain we’re finally gonna get the infamous, long-awaited scene that must not be named between captain and ghost, but that’s on for me for not taking the slow burn warning more seriously lol. BUT there is still hope, i mean our mc would not be our mc if she can resist temptations and mind her own business yk.

"All these pit stops, huh? You sure she's the one trying to save you here, Captain? Because it looks an awful lot like that's what you're trying to do to her instead."

"Nightingale"

“I'm going, I'm going!”

and THIS IS ADORABLE OMG?!/?? i swear this whole part and the next part here is a prophecy that they’re gonna get it.

Yet, what you see before you is a trap, one carefully set by a vulnerable yet volatile man who could easily turn the situation into one that is advantageous to him permanently and you briefly. You imagine he has been in this position before — one where he can take as he pleases without thinking of the consequences of his actions — and where you stand, in a vulnerable spot yourself, you feel that tug to be near someone on equal footing. Wonder persists in your mind as you question where that is how Yunho initially fell into bed with him some time ago, or even further back to the first time Seonghwa was with him.

my girl has got some resolve and dignity alright, but we’ll see how long that lasts hahasksjak. we still probably got around 100 more chapters lol but just so you know, you’re gonna have to expect more than a broken askbox when that happens. everyone here will go so insane we might accidentally report you for emotional damage /hj. this is more than enough rambling but PLEASE I CAN NOT WAIT FOR MORE YOU’RE A LITERAL GODSEND THANK YOU LOVE YOU <3 - 🌊

OMGOMG okay i’ve been trying to answer this ask for like 2-3 weeks now but tumblr kept making it disappear from my inbox i was legit losing my mind?? but god bless today... today it worked... so finally i can respond... 

thank you for waiting for me so sorry tumblr was a bitch and didn't let me respond sooner </3 i was legit so sad it kept disappearing bc i wanted to answer SO BAD LSKDFJFLK thank you thank you first off in this past few days i'e received so much lvoe and compliments on my writing, and i've been told many lovely things and i know you sent this ask a while back but man it still means so much to me i'm still so grateful the words hold just as much meaning to me i really truly appreciate them and you!!!

now onto the spoiley bits... you're spot on! this is the end of an arc in its own regard where we've been in this storyline for such a long while by now that it's a bit like wow! that's over! i've been loving seeing the mixed bag of reactions about jisung, truly, the overwhelming majority are upset over his death even if he was a villain in many regards and that is super fascinating to me and frankly that was my goal i was trying to achieve! switching the perspectives of jisung vs hyunwoo, i wanted to play with that concept and i couldn't be happier with the outcome!

hongjoong and mc have such a fun dynamic and push-and-pull to play with too i adore it and i adore seeing everyone react to that as well, especially with recent chapters ofc.. but she's a strong one! she's resisting well! she's still got her resolve and her dignity both buttttt we'll see how much longer that lasts :3

[scentofpines]

long ass text

yesterday was one of those days where i felt like the whole world really did conspire against me. when i was at the train station i heard someone call my name and it turned out to be the girl from the welcome event last week that i got along with really well but hadnt seen since and guess why?? she switched programs. to ECONOMICS :| and we were on the train together for 30 minutes and usually that wouldve killed me to do with someone i dont know well but we were really vibing and this makes me so fucking mad, i was really looking forward to having courses with her :(

then i had a seminar (the one abt women and gender history) and it sucked. the lecturer seemed nice (albeit in a bit of a manic way) but the thing is a) half of the seminar will be reading this AWFUL book about basically the history of gender history/philosophy which i tried to force myself to read a few weeks ago and gave up after 40 pages bc i didnt get ANYTHING. and she said repeatedly how well written and understandable that book is :))) and b) even though i asked her via mail before i signed up for the course what the exam will look like and she said its a written one now she came out and said we will have to do a book presentation. and, like a normal presentation would be bad enough but doable but a book presentation?? presenting a modern scientific book about a topic instead of just presenting the topic itself seems so fucking useless to me????? i think i will drop out of this course and do a lecture abt prehistoric drugs instead bc i genuinely dont have the energy for weirdly structured stupid classes anymore.

today we were SUPPOSED to have a lecture about greek archaeology and the dude who was supposed to do it just didnt fucking show up???? we waited for 50 minutes and then just left lmao. i just looooveeed taking a stinky, 3 hour long (there and back again) train ride for nothing.

but at least i got to know two girls i guess. i already chatted with one of them on whatsapp and we talked about ukrainian/russian folk music which she also likes lol and i complimented her name, which is kinda arrogant bc i have the same one lmao just spelled differently bc hers is transcribed from ukrainian. and then she complimented mine back lol. so she seemed pretty nice and the other girl too, buttttt they are...idk extremely girly girlypop perfectly styled girls and i always feel soooo weird and out of place with women like that.

oh god and at one point they both said that they were "for real on the spectrum". bro. BRO. i have literally NEVER seen more well adjusted women who had ZERO issue conversing in this full loud ass room for 50 mins straight, who also had customer service jobs that they can do with basically no issue and that were completely chill just randomly chatting with ppl they dont know well. YOU ARE NOT FUCKING AUTISTIC. YES I TAKE THIS LABEL AWAY FROM YOU. ITS NOT YOURS. MY LEFT ASS CHEEK IS MORE AUTISTIC THAN BOTH OF YOU COMBINED but i still dont go around telling ppl im on this fucking "sPeCtRuM". this term has become so meaningless. i cant imagine how absolutely awful actually autistic ppl have to feel with everyone nowadays basically appropriating their (often) life ruining disorder if i already feel like shit. i know ppl dont mean it like that but it feels so mocking.

and tomorrow i have to get up at 6:30am and drive there again and i will probably get my presentation topic for this other course. but at least i will be back home at 1pm and then i wont have to go to uni for friday and the weekend. its only week 2 and i already feel so awful. oh and btw i fucking miss my fav professor so much it hurts, i know men are evil blabla but i have insane father hunger sometimes (i think thats what its called) and my god. would i do anthing for him to be my father. and then i see my actual father and i just want to throw up and kill either him or myself. genuinely my prof has shown me more loving consideration than my father in the last 15+ years. ok now you know the depths of my pathetic soul if you read this far congrattssss and goodnight

[dianight]

2 months (long)

I would straight up say no changes at all but that's not quite correct. It feels like nothing changes day by day but if I were to compare week by week I'd probably be able to point some things out.

My hair is(!) nicer now. Still not as good as I'd like and I might even try to do something about split ends and such. Undecided for now, not a priority.

Amusing a few days later, not at all how I wanted it to go, but it turns out that crying does feel really good to let out all the frustration. Definitely way more difficult now to keep things bottled up; past a certain point it just spills out like a metaphorical dam bursting. Another one that I can't describe in any other way than "feeling cunty" which is like, feeling cunty (positive) and feeling cunty (negative) at the same time. I'm aware that it's not super clear but I just can't put it in better words.

Shaving, aka pushing the boulder. Turns out that when you get sharp blades things go much better and faster; feels less like torture and not like I'm dissociating just to get past a bad experience. They are expensive as fuck but at least now I don't bolt awake in the middle of the night because my face feels awful.

Not really the moment to feel ashamed: I've caught myself stunned at my image in the mirror. Usually after/before taking a shower, in a "woah that's me" kind of way. It is... new to me.

Sweat is way less "smelly" now. A few days ago I was drenched and my clothes were like, yeah sweaty and smelly but not even close to how it would have been before hrt. I've also been surprised a few hours after a shower and just going "what's that smell?" Me! It's me and it's unfamiliar (neutral) but it's good.

I seem to have some sort of elemental weakness against doors and furniture that people leave out of position. Every time I've bonked or grazed something with my nipples it's been like what I imagine getting stunned in a video game is like: incapacitated for a few seconds and then it's completely fine. Permanently sore (a bit) and still flat, which is "good" because it's summer still but next year [let's not think about that now] yeah sure.

One of these days I'm going to do a "no hair below my head" sort of shaving session and we'll see how it turns out.

Uh... something about my lips being different. "Shinier" in a way. On one of these "checking myself" moments I was thinking that it looked like I had chapstick on.

Holy fuck I've lost weight somehow. I think I might need to start taking it a bit more seriously because I can't have breakfast, lunch, snacks through the day, dinner (some days [I am trying!]) and somehow lose weight. It just does not make sense, and it's not like I can exercise a lot in the first place (I'm still sore 2 days after having to walk for hours). Not in a "counting calories" way but more in a making sure I have 3 meals and like, fruit/yogurt/snacks every(!) day.

I'm in a weird spot mentally speaking too. It's like, what am I expecting to happen from one day to another? Nothing so I don't really pay attention until a few days later I'm looking at my reflection from the side thinking "was my ass that big?" and it's like. Maybe? I don't know. Today I caught a peanut with my thighs and it's like "are they bigger now?" Who knows? I'm bad at keeping track.

There's a very interesting (read: scary/concerning) situation when I'm having one of these "cunty" moods and also feeling the urges where if I had a neck to bite I wouldn't let go. Literally that "kill her kill her" post. It doesn't last long but it's ah, intense.

Still reluctantly using my thing. I literally have to remind myself to do it since I don't really care(?) and outside of those violent moods it's pretty unappealing.

I don't know what else for now.

1 month (long, TMI as they say)

So I was planning on making a list of changes, sort of, stuff I've noticed but when I try to put it into words it gets quite difficult. Anyway. In no particular order and with the caveat that it might be placebo or simply something that I've never paid attention to or some other unrelated factor:

My hair looks nicer? It used to get tangled pretty often, now I simply get the drill hair curls unless I comb it a bit. Do I notice less hair falling overall? Maybe(?), I still get some loose ones on my hair ties or in the shower. But I feel like (<- feel like) it's less now. Not quite how I'd like it yet but better (<- even if not a thing still feels nicer).

I was genuinely looking forward to having an easier time crying, no luck yet. What emotional changes I've gotten are "villainess behaviors" instead which if I were to elaborate is an incredibly difficult time containing myself when someone antagonizes me in any way. As an example I had a celebration (not mine) recently and some relative said something passive agressive to me, I wanted to just ignore instead I found myself laughing in their face and telling them to mind their business (<- less nice than that). Other minor "I should not let this matter to me" stuff feeding the urge to be cruel. I'm fine but it's funny in a way since it's harder to be nice when people are assholes.

Shaving is much much worse and a bit better now. It used to be something that if I ignored/forgot about for a while it'd not matter, now I had a moment where I couldn't sleep and had to go shave at 2am due to how bad it was making me feel. It does feel nicer now, but only for a while.

Less smell? It's summer, it's hot, I'm not particularly sweaty and yet. It's too big of a change to be something I'm imagining. Weird, in a really nice way.

[I lost track so I check the table for reference to see what else.]

Oh yeah. Big changes happening (<- exaggeration). My nipples randomly get sore, one of them is sore all the time! No noticeable size changes though. Way more sensitive to the point of almost being painful (<- in a good way). Actually concerning. I could talk more about it but perhaps not right now.

Body hair is all the same(?), no differences on skin softness/oiliness. My skin condition remains the same.

Body fat redistribution and pelvis changes seems to not be happening yet. My hips are massive anyway and the dimples in my lower back have always been there (<- bragging).

Decreased muscle and strength. Yeah, not from E I can tell you. It's more the disability and the injuries.

This one is kinda funny. "Changes in mood, emotionality, and behavior". It could be. It could also be the sheer relief of getting something I've been trying to get for 8(9?) years, while being able to focus on other stuff that was simply asking too much of me. I'm biased obviously but apart from the slightly stronger urges it's mostly the same.

Sex drive and all that stuff. Let's just say expected changes. Shooting blanks now, which is amusing. No morning wood. You know the drill. I know there can be atrophy if you don't use it and I'll gladly let that thing rot, but. Let's think about how it might be necessary later on. Bear with it for now.

Another interesting one that comes with those emotional changes is how little I care now about certain things, sexually speaking. And how some others will instantly fill a metaphorical bar until it says !!! MADNESS !!! out of nowhere. Case in point, that drawing about the two girls playing the rhythm game(?) while one holds the other's leash. Yeah funny mental image. Somehow it got stuck in my brain for a couple days. Wait what. I'm also much more picky about what types of works I read. It all just seems so boring now. Seen that setup before, that one's got very bad art, that one is too misogynistic, that one is just uninspired.

Anyway I could type more about how it feels different now but words fail me a bit and I think that's enough for now.

[bastillewolf]

Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

 ***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

 ***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

[quindolyn]

Better Kisser Part 2 || James Potter and Lily Evans

Request: “istg i need a fic or a blurb or something about being in a poly relationship with lily and james...after reading Better Kisser it’s all i can think about 😭” -anon

and

“hiii !! first of all, i love your writings they’re so amazing honestly !! could you maybe write something with hot lily from “better kisser” ? i’d love it if it was both sensual and fluff :) thanks so much if you ever do something like that! hope you have a nice day/night!“ -anon

and

“QUINN HEAR ME OUT

imagine a part two to better kisser but like smutty bc Lily starts bragging about how she thinks she’s better at other things since she’s the better kisser so they make it a competition over who can like... get the reader off fastest... and then it’s like a competition to see who can get her off the most...

good ideas here right...? N E ways love u bestie <3″ -anon

Word Count: 4,752

Notes:I got three separate requests for this so obviously y’all wanted it and I want to write it. This is smut! I could also do headcanons on Jily x reader and even if you guys don’t request it I’ll probably still write them because it sounds like fun.

Warnings: poly sex, jily x reader, dom!James, dom!Lily, sub!reader, LIly’s a sex god, prove me wrong, they’re both cocky as fuck

Part 1

Masterlist

Lily Evans was the stars, she was mesmerizing and mysterious. Just as they decorated the night sky, accentuating the darkness through their beauty she too brought out the best in those around her without dulling any of her own shine. She was sly smiles and gentle touches, slender pale fingers and long, swishing red hair. She was wondrous and beautiful, complex and absolutely gorgeous. Lily Evans, she was the stars.

James Potter was the sun, he was bright and glowing and impossible to ignore. James was messy black hair, and goofy grins, strong hands and bear hugs. He attracted all of those around him, sucking them into his gravitational field, giving them purpose, warming their souls. A centering person when the rest of their lives were crazy and unpredictable and scary. James Potter, he was the sun.

Where Lily was understated and controlled with her witty remarks and sharp quips James was loud and boisterous, trying to get the biggest reaction out of people. Where Lily was calm James was chaotic. Where she was focused on her end goal he was everywhere, practically bouncing off the walls.

Together they were perfect.

And somehow they were yours.

One thing was for certain, Sirius Black was an upright prick, and you owed him, bigtime. If it weren’t for Sirius Black you would’ve never kissed Lily Evans on a dare. You would’ve never kissed James to satisfy his curiosities. You wouldn’t have spent weeks exchanging tense glances with the two, holding your breath whenever one of them so much as sat down one seat away from you in the Great Hall. Lily would’ve never found you, hiding away in the common room in the wee hours of the morning, pouring over your Transfiguration notes preparing for your test the following morning, or rather later in the day. She never would’ve brushed the hair out of your face with her elegant fingers, nails painted in a berry shade, complimenting her pale skin. She never would’ve told you that you really needed to go to bed, she never would’ve leaned down, meshing her lips with yours, allowing you to answer that question that had plagued you after you kissed Lily. 

What did her lips taste like when she wasn’t drunk?

The answer?

Well at that moment, morning breath. Which brought a new question to the forefront of your mind, what did she taste like when she hadn’t just woken up in the middle of the night?

It didn’t take long for you to find out the answer. She’d brought you up to bed, her hand clasped with yours, telling you that she and James wanted to talk to you in the morning resulting in you tossing and turning all night in anticipation of the conversation that would take place the next day.

If it weren’t for Sirius Black you never would’ve had that conversation with James and Lily by the Black Lake. You never would’ve even had the opportunity to accept their offer not to join their relationship but to start a new one, with all three of you. You never would have never learned what Lily tasted like, it was maple syrup and cherries by the way.

If it weren’t for Sirius Black you wouldn’t be sitting in your dorm room with the two of them, skimming over notes for your potions midterm. Well you and Lily were looking over your extensive notes, James on the other hand was sitting behind you, pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

You hissed as he dragged his teeth over a bruised spot on your neck, sending ripples of both pain and pleasure through your body, leaving your fingertips tingling, dying to get themselves on his skin.

“Aw, baby,” He cooed in your ear as he registered your reaction, it’s not as though he could’ve missed it, not with your back pressed flush against his chest, “You a little sensitive there?”

“Come on Jamie,” You giggle trying to hide your neck from him, pressing your ear to your shoulder, “You already know I am.”

James slipped his rough, strong fingers under your jaw, using them to lift your head back up, away from your shoulder, “Don’t hide from me darling, wanna see the marks I left on you.” He returned his lips to the same spot on your neck, lapping slightly at the purple mark with his tongue.

Lily snorted from where she laid on her stomach a couple inches away from you on the same bed that had been transfigured to accommodate all three of you.

“What’s so funny Lils?” James inquired, peeking up from the delicate skin covering your thrumming pulse.

“Nothing,” She sang, twirling her pen in between her fingers, her feet hanging lazily in the air, “I just think it's funny you think you left that mark on her.”

“Well I did,” James said plainly, obviously not amused by Lily’s comment, “Didn’t I poppet?” He asked, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

You ducked your head, trying to hide your wide eyes and heated cheeks from the two of them. 

“It’s okay (Y/N),” Lily cooed, setting her quill down in her book, marking her page as she closed the book, dropping it onto the floor, “You can tell him it was me who left that, his ego can take it.” She held eye contact with you for a minute, managing to keep a straight face before a smile broke out across her lips, chuckles erupting from the soft cushions of her lips, lathered in a light pink gloss, “Okay, it probably can’t but that shouldn’t stop you baby, Jamie needs to remember that he’s not the only one who can make you feel good.”

“I know I’m not Flower, but I left this one, I can tell, it's one of the darker ones.” And he was right, the entire left side of your neck was littered in bruises and bites, some lighter than others, some darker, but none as dark as the one he was currently tracing with his index finger.

“Nope,” Lily countered, popping her p before pushing herself up off of her shins in order to settle between your open legs, “I distinctly remember, I had her pressed up against the wall before you got back from Quidditch practice, she moaned so pretty for me, prettier than she ever has for you.” She grinned victoriously, turning her gaze back to you, and only you, “It’s like he cares more about that fucking snitch than he does us.”

“That’s bullshit love and you know it,” He murmured in your ear pressing a kiss against the corner of your mouth before dragging his lips, considerably less rough than they were before you started dating him as you’d made it your mission to apply lip balm to his lips every time you saw him, across the side of your face back to your ear, “She’s just trying to turn you against me, she’s so mean isn’t she.”

They loved doing this. Making you choose between the two of them, or trying to anyway. The power struggle between the two of them was hot as fuck.

Before you could so much as open your mouth Lily was responding for you, “I’m not mean doll,” She crooned, not looking at you but rather focusing on the dark haired boy whose nimble fingers were expertly pulling at the hem of your shirt, slowly but steadily rolling up the material until it covered just was much as your bra, “Jamie just needs to remember who the better kisser here is, who makes you feel the best.”

Ignoring her jab James murmured a quick, “Want this off,” In your ear before pulling the shirt over your head and arms, tossing it off the bed and onto the floor paying it no mind as soon as the material slipped from his fingers. 

Desperate to prove his worth, to prove his dominance James’ hands ran up and down your thighs, inching your skirt up them, “You’re not the better kisser here Flower, you’re not the best anything. Our baby here loves me the most.”

“She told us James,” Lily sighed, clearly exasperated with your boyfriend, “After she kissed you for the first time she told us. I’m the better kisser, just accept it. She likes me the most don’t you (Y/N/N)?”

“Jamie you make me feel so good,” You began, hoping to soften the blow, “But Lily’s tongue is magic, feels so good in my mouth, in my-my…” 

“It’s okay pretty girl,” She simpered, “You can say it, where does my mouth feel good?”

“My pussy,” You forced out, willing yourself not to stutter. 

“That’s right my pretty little kitten,” She grinned, tilting your chin up with her index finger so that you were staring into her swirling emerald irises, darkened with obvious desire. “I make your pussy feel so good, better than Jamie.”

“Off.” James demanded, not taking kindly to Lily’s teasing, as he aggressively undid the clasp on your bra, the snide remarks obviously doing no damage to his ego as he pulled the straps from your arms. Taking no care with the expensive, luxurious garment that he himself had bought for you he flung the clothing over his shoulder. Clearly not caring about the money he’d spent on it as the silky material crumpled next to the bed.

“Not just my tongue that makes you feel better isn’t that right my darling?” Lily smirked, beginning to undo the buttons on her button up, “S’my fingers too, stretching you out on my fingers, they can reach so much further in you than his can.”

“Pfft,” James shook his head, one hand settling on your waist, gripping with a frankly frightening strength, no doubt melding dark purple bruises in the shapes of his fingertips on your soft skin.

“Gimme your hand Flower, let me show our baby that you’re wrong” James demanded as the hand not on your waist extended towards the redhead. When she dropped her hand in his he immediately lined them up, palm against palm, fingers against fingers, and much to James’ chagrin his hands were only barely larger than hers. His palm was much larger than hers leaving his fingers slightly shorter than his girlfriend’s.

Feeling benevolent, you grabbed his hand before it dropped down to his thigh in defeat, pressing your hands together as he had pressed his to Lily’s. Yours were considerably smaller than his, and therefore her’s too, your palm nearly half the size as his, your fingers dwarfed by his. 

“See Jamie, your hands are bigger than mine.” You comforted, mesmerized by the contrast, “Your fingers make me feel so much better than mine ever could. They don’t even come close.” 

“But that’s besides the point right poppet?” Lily questioned, grasping your jaw in her graceful hand, you noticed her ivory dress shirt now hung open, revealing her red lace clad breasts as she once again tilting your head up to look her in the eyes, “Because you’re not allowed to touch yourself, not without my permission.”

“Or mine,” James piped up.

Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend Lily released her grip on your jaw, “Keep your eyes on me darling, be my good girl.”

“You even like my strap more than you like James’ cock, stretches you out so much better than he ever could. Not to mention we don’t have to wait for his little blue pill to work do we?”

Being a muggle born you understood her joke but James was utterly bewildered by your shared laughter.

“You’re not laughing at me are you, you little slut?” James spat, his voice hard and unwavering as he turned your face with a single finger so that your neck was craned to look at him.

“N-no,” You shook your head pathetically, your eyes flashing downwards not being able to meet him.

“Open,” He commanded, tapping your bottom lip and you instantly obeyed, not daring to disobey him. You were rewarded for your obedience by the male spitting into your mouth, the taste of his saliva bleeding along the expanse of your tongue.

“What do we say to Jamsie, pretty girl?” Lily raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Thank you.”

“Good girl,” James muttered, watching as you swallowed the gift he’d given you, “Thought you’d forgotten your manners for a second.”

“Not our good girl,” Lily grinned, somehow now only in her thong, “No, she’s such a good girl for us.”

“Guess she is,” James agreed, leaving a trail of kisses between your shoulder blades.

“Bet I can make our baby cum first James,” Lily boasted, beginning to work on the zipper of your skirt, expertly pulling it off of your legs, “Being the better kisser and all.”

“Don’t get cocky Evans,” James tutted, pulling his shirt over his head as he had yours, “You know I love your strap baby but it just can’t compare to my cock. Mine’s real.”

Clearly unimpressed by his comment Lily pressed her lips to yours, maneuvering you so that you too were on your knees, giving James time to strip down to the same level of clothing as the two of you. 

Smiling into the kiss she put but a millimeter of distance between the two of you to catch her breath, “You taste so good kitten.”

“You’re the one who tastes good Lily.”

“So nice to me, don’t deserve you,” She planted a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “Let me make you feel good baby.” 

Not complaining, you let Lily lie you back on the bed where James was no longer standing, instead now standing behind Lily, letting his hands settle on her hips. 

Once you were lying down she hooked her hands under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed as James helped her off the mattress, helping her plant her feet on the floor. It was things like this, the subtle loving gestures and actions even when they were practically at each other’s throats, that reminded you of how much they loved each other. Of how much they loved you.

“Look at these,” Lily lilted, her finger hooking under the silky material of your panties, “So pretty aren’t they J?”

“Very,” He whispered in her ear only loud enough for you to barely hear him, “Like her in red.”

Lily hummed in affirmation, tapping your hip as a non verbal clue to lift your hips so she could pull them off of you.

She didn’t waste a single second before kneeling down before you so that her face was level as your glistening pussy, already so wet from them just talking about pleasuring you. 

After running a single finger through your folds Lily brought her finger to her lips, a hum leaving her lips. “You taste good down here too (Y/N), you have such a pretty pussy.”

“Thank you,” You murmured, attempting not to whine and be their good girl even though you desperately wanted them to touch you. 

Without any warning Lily inserted two slender fingers into your cunt causing you to gasp at the sensation. “Lily,” You whimpered, trying not to buck your hips towards her hand, not wanting to let on quite yet how desperate you really were. 

“See J?” You could hear the smirk on her lips as she slowly moved her fingers in and out of you, paying you no other mind, instead directing her attention to her boyfriend who still stood behind her, his hands now on her bare shoulders. “She’s really not all that hard to please when you actually know what you’re doing. Had my fingers in her two seconds and she’s already so needy for me.”

“Shut up Lils,” James growled, “Stop talking like I don’t know how to get her off, she’s my baby too, I know exactly how to get her desperate.” In his efforts to prove his point he moved onto the bed, taking one of your nipples into his mouth resulting in a whine to tumble from your lips as he raked his teeth over the sensitive bud.

As his mouth sucked on one his hand moved to the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers before pinching harshly making you gasp in pleasure.

Lily allowed James to have his moment before taking your clit between her lips and sucking. If you gasped for James you absolutely screamed for Lily, thank Merlin for silencing charms because otherwise someone would’ve probably thought you were being tortured. Once she had your sensitive bundle of nerves in her mouth she began humming, making wave after wave of intense ecstasy roll through your core and up your spine, leaving your nerve endings frayed and responsive to every single touch.

You could feel everything, the soft material of the duvet beneath your back, James’ tongue circling your nipple, one hand caressing your heated cheek while the other traced shapes down your stomach. You could feel Lily’s fingers continuing their assault on your cunt, reaching so deep inside of you that they almost touched your g-spot, but not quite, as your clit was set aflame by her mouth. 

“You’re not even trying,” Lily snarked, coming up for a breather from in between your legs, “You really think you’re gonna get  her to cum from playing with her nipples? I never realized you were that daft Jamsie.”

“If you’d give me a turn,” He began before Lily cut him off.

“Doesn’t look like she wants me to stop does it?” She nodded in your direction where you were writhing on the bed merely from her fingers. “Do you want me to stop, baby?”

“No,” You begged, “Please don’t stop, please! Need your fingers in me, make me feel so good.”

Grinning triumphantly Lily returned her mouth to your pulsing cunt, sucking with a new found vigor that had your back careening off of the mattress, hips bucking towards her mouth.

“Hey,” James scolded, moving his arm to keep your hips firmly on the bed, “Don’t be a desperate slut, take it as she gives you it okay? Be good for us.”

Nodding feebly you willed your hips still but it was nearly impossible as Lily replaced her fingers with her tongue, moving her digits to pinch your clit. Feeling the pleasure bubble up in your stomach you focused on your girlfriend’s ministrations, lapping at your hole with her tongue sent you into a whole new level of pleasure.

“Feels so good! Lily, that feels so good, please don’t stop!”

You could feel her smiling into your opening as she sped up her movements, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice of climax. “Am I allowed to cum?” You asked desperately, the only thing keeping your hips where they were being James’ strong forearm, digging into your hip bones.

“No,” He growled, slapping at your tit bringing you even closer to something you were apparently not allowed to do. 

“Come on James,” Lily said replacing her tongue with her fingers as she moved her head to talk to the dark haired boy, “You can’t just tell her she’s not allowed to cum because it’s not you who’s going to make her cum,” Turning her attention back to you she smiled, “Of course you’re allowed to cum baby, don’t listen to him. Are you close, m’love?”

“Uh huh,” You screwed your eyes shut, the pleasure becoming overwhelming and only intensifying when Lily’s mouth returned to your clit, licking broad stripes up and down it. 

“Baby look at me,” James’ deep voice commanded you, to which you promptly obeyed, “Wanna see you when you fall apart on her tongue, wanna see you cum baby, you’re so pretty when you cum.”

James’ words accompanied by a particularly harsh nip by Lily to your clit has you tipping over the edge, letting out a high pitched scream as pleasure took over your body, drowning you in the feeling of your lovers still working on your body, obviously not satisfied with leaving you with just one orgasm.

As you came to, your orgasm slowly seeped away from your cloudy mind, reentering you into your dorm room where you heard Lily’s melodic voice, “See James, told you I could make her cum first.”

“Didn’t even get a chance,” He grumbled from his place next you, brushing the hairs off of your forehead. “Wanna make you cum poppet, tell Lily to give me a turn.”

“L-lils,” You managed in your post orgasmic haze, “Want Jamsie, want his- want his…”

“Look at how good of a job I did on our baby,” The redhead boasted, “Just one in and already a blubbery little mess. How do you think she’s gonna be fairing when I have her on her fourth?”

“Only shooting for four Lils?” James raised a defined eyebrow, “I was thinking I could get at least five out of her myself.”

Your eyes widened, slightly in alarm, slightly in anticipation. “F-five?”

“Shh kitten, let us talk,” Lily chaisted lightly. “You really do think highly of yourself don’t you Potter?”

“I’ve done it before,” He countered.

“No, we’ve done it before, both of us. Neither of us have ever gotten her to five by ourselves.”

“Don’t think you can do it Flower?” As he rose from the bed and moved towards Lily you caught sight of his cock, already painfully hard, the tip a bright red and leaking with precum.

“S’not me I’m worried about, don’t wanna overwhelm our baby.”

“I can do it,” You piped in feebly, “I can take it, make me feel good please, wanna feel good.”

“See Lily? If she says she can take it, who are we to question her?”

“You sure poppet?” Lily asked you, her eyes on yours.

“Yes Lily, I’m sure.”

That was all James needed to nudge Lily out from between your legs, spitting on his fingers before rubbing them up against your pussy. “You need me to stretch you out darling?” His voice laced with absolute adoration as he took in your perspiring figure from this new angle.

You shook your head but James wasn’t satisfied, “Wanna hear your voice poppet, come on not too fucked out yet are you?”

“No, don’t need you to stretch me out, want your cock.”

He grinned, lining up the tip of his cock with your quivering entrance, “There’s my good girl.”

As he pushed into you you faintly questioned why you didn’t have him stretch you out beforehand, but once he was fully sheathed inside you all you could think about was the way his dick pressed perfectly against your g-spot. 

You moaned out as he began thrusting into you, ruthless in his efforts to make you cum. He moved his hands to hold your hips at an angle where he could better reach deeper inside of you if that was even possible.

“So pretty baby girl,” His grin was wicked as he watched your cunt, reveling in the sight of his cock going in and out of your dripping pussy, “You look so pretty on my cock, you gonna make a mess f’me?”

“She’s not gonna cum yet you himbo,” Lily interjected, “You’ve been inside her what? Five seconds? You need her to cum soon? You close?”

Using Lily’s mocking as motivation he pistoned his hips in and out even more viciously, leaving you a bouncing mess on his cock as he pulled his prick almost all the way out, so that only the leaking red head was still inside of you before fully sheathing himself in you once more.

“Fuck!” You cried out as the tip of his member brushed against your cervix, “Don’t stop!”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” James managed through gritted teeth, throwing your legs over his shoulders so that he wouldn’t have to hold them in his hands any longer, giving him the ability to grip your hips.

So lost in your pleasure you hadn’t registered where Lily was until she sat next to you on the bed, moving her fingers to massage your clit pulling a strangled gasp from your throat.

“L-Lily,” You stuttered out.

“Hey there baby,” She cooed, like she was talking to an actual child, “Jamie making you feel good.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

“You close, kitten? You gonna cum soon?”

A whimper escaped your lips this time as you nodded once more.

“Let me see if I can help with that then, wanna see you cum again pretty girl.”

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the mattress with a soft thud as Lily’s fingers started working magic on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm.

A slap against your clit, combined with the deep, hard thrusts of your boyfriend, reaching depths within you you could’ve only imagined before him sent you careening. Your climax washed over you in waves, each stronger than the last making you twitch and spasm on the bed.

You hadn’t even registered that you’d squirted, not until Lily’s delicate hands were rubbing your release up and down your thighs, “Well would you look at that?” James grinned, “I didn’t see you make her squirt Lils.”

“Oh, you don’t get points for this one pretty boy,” Lily grinned, not making eye contact with him but rather focusing on your pulsing cunt.

“What?” James was incredulous, “What do you mean I don’t get credit for that one, she came on my cock.”

“Yes, technically, but she only came when I started on that pretty little clit of hers, so responsive isn’t it, doll?” She asked, punctuating her remark with a gentle slap against your still throbbing cunt and a quick wink that James was too bewildered to pick up on.

Over the next couple of hours they were able to lull a number of orgasms out of you, James making Lily sit in a chair next to the bed so that she couldn’t touch you at all and take credit for any of his hard work.

You’d cum on her tongue and his, both of their fingers, once at the same time, they split the credit for that one but it was worth it, getting to watch your cunt stretch around both of them. You came on James’ cock more times than you could count, and of course on Lily’s strap on because Godric, did she know how to move her hips.

By the end you’d cum a grand total of nine times. You weren’t quite sure how’d you’d done it but you had. And they were both so proud of you.

The final score was Lily, five. James, four. You’d better believe that James was butt hurt about it, not quite willing to accept his obvious defeat, instead of acknowledging it and conceding to his very talented girlfriend, working on getting you cleaned up.

Once James had left the dorm to run you a bath Lily scooped you into her lap, running her hands up and down your thighs but being careful not to touch your sensitive cunt. 

“You did such a good job for us baby,” She cooed, pressing kiss after kiss to the back of your head, “Came nine times, can you believe that?”

“Is Jamie going to be mad that you made me cum more?” You asked in your degenerative head space not wanting to upset your boyfriend.

“Of course not,” Lily squeezed your hips, soothing your woes. “Especially not at you, he might mope around a little bit because he is a man,” She pulled a light giggle out of your lips with that one, “But he’ll get over it, it's just gonna push him to work harder next time when he’s making you feel good.”

“Flower,” James called from the bathroom, “Bath’s ready.”

“Come on baby,” Lily said, easing you up onto your feet, “Let’s get you in the bath and all cleaned up for us alright?”

“Okay,” You yawned, understandably exhausted by the events of the night, “Will you take the bath with me?”

“Of course my pretty girl, not gonna let Jamie join us though, s’my reward for being the best.”

You chuckled, nodding your head in agreement, “Sounds good Lils.”

As she settled you into the bathtub Lily ordered James out before he could step into it with you.

“But-”

“Out!”

“Fine! Fine, I’m going!”

Lily was the stars and James was the sun, and fuck did they know how to make you feel good.

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts​ @kittykylax​ @amourtentiaa

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 125.2: Accidental Bonding (Part 2)

(You can read part 1 here but basically all you need to know is that Harry and Draco got accidentally bonded on a case and they are coping with the after effects.)

By the end of the first week Harry very much needed a break from Draco Malfoy.

Robbards assigned them to one another as partners for the remainder of the time they were bonded and that meant that they spent what amounted to every moment of every day together. They worked together, went home together, and slept in the same bed together. And they fought every waking moment about nearly everything.

It hadn't helped that all of the other Aurors were constantly taking the piss and Harry was ready to snap.

On Friday afternoon, while Malfoy was in the loo and Harry had a rare moment of privacy, he sent off a patronus to Ron and Hermione asking them to meet him for dinner at the Leaky. Ron's terrier returned not long after, affirming that they'd be glad to meet him.

For the rest of the day, he kept that at the forefront of his mind, the proverbial carrot dangling in front of him as he fought to make it to the end of the work week.

After they arrived home, Harry changed his clothes and came into the living room where Malfoy was sitting on the sofa, then pressed his hand to Malfoy's shoulder until the bond wasn't humming in the back of his mind. "I'm going out," he informed him as he removed his hand

"I don't want to go out," he replied immediately.

He nodded, "Good because I wasn't inviting you with me anyway."

"But the bond-"

"She said that we'd be okay for two hours. I'm just going to go have dinner with Ron and Hermione and then I'll come back."

Malfoy didn't reply, which Harry might have imagined would be an improvement over the bickering but was actually really fucking annoying.

He took a deep breath and then let it out. It wasn't worth it. "Whatever," he grumbled to himself as he stepped back and apparated to the apparation point near the Leaky.

(Read more below the cut)

Ron and Hermione were already at the table near the fire when he arrived and Harry felt something unwind inside of him at the sight of his friends, it felt like coming home when you'd been away for too long.

"Hi," he said as he approached the table.

Hermione stood up and wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Thanks," he murmured, hugging her back.

She nodded, "You looked like you could use it."

A humorless chuckle left his throat, "You could say that," he replied.

"Come on," she said, tugging him over to the table.

"I can only stay for a few hours," Harry said, sitting down across from Ron, "The bond-"

"Then let's just have a few hours that feel normal and have nothing to do with Malfoy," Ron said and Harry nodded gratefully.

---------

Only an hour into their dinner, Harry started to feel the tug of the bond, a low thrumming through his gut that made him feel restless. He tried to ignore it and was doing fairly well by the sheer force of his stubbornness when a woman came up to them.

"You're Harry Potter, right?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Yeah," he replied, "that's me."

"It's so nice to meet you," she said, reaching over and laying a hand on his forearm, scarlet fingernails trailing lightly over his skin.

Harry immediately felt queasy, every fiber of his being screaming that this was wrong. "Nice to meet you, too," he said as politely as he could manage, pulling his arm out of her reach.

"Could I-"

"Sorry," Ron interrupted, "But he's a bit busy. We're having dinner, in case you didn't notice."

She glanced at Ron, then looked back at Harry, "Maybe when you're done," she said, "You could join me for a drink at the bar."

"Maybe another time," Harry said, giving her his best smile which he feared turned out more like a grimace as his stomach rolled.

Fortunately she seemed to take the hint, "Well, it was nice to meet you," she said before turning.

"You too," Harry called. "I've got to go," he said as soon as she was out of earshot.

"What?" Hermione asked, "Why?"

"I don't know, something happened with the bond," he muttered. "I feel awful."

"Go on then," Ron said, nodding at him. "We'll see you later.

"Stop by the house tomorrow, if you'd like," Hermione offered.

"Alright," he nodded. "Sorry," he added as he stood up and fled the bar, apparating straight into Malfoy's house.

"Malfoy," he shouted, the moment his feet touched the floor.

The other man groaned from where he was laying on the sofa in the living room, "What the actual fuck did you do?" he managed. "I was fine and then all of the sudden it felt like I was hit by a train."

Harry made his way over to the sofa and since Malfoy didn't seem like he was going to move he did the only thing his brain could come up with. He crawled on top of him, pressing their bodies together and moaning with relief. "Someone hit on me," he said.

"Poor you," Malfoy grumbled, even as one of his arms wrapped around Harry and pulled him in tighter.

"No, I mean that's what caused the spike. She flirted with me and touched my arm and the bond went crazy."

Malfoy hummed, "Interesting," he said. "People have touched both of us and it hasn't caused this."

"Maybe the bond recognizes intent?" Harry questioned.

"Maybe it recognizes your intent," Malfoy mused. "Was she attractive?"

Harry shrugged, "Maybe? I didn't really notice."

"Pfft," Malfoy huffed, his breath warm and vaguely pleasant against Harry's ear. "You don't have to lie. I won't be offended."

"I'm serious," Harry protested.

"Look, can we just be honest with each other?" he asked. "It's fine if you thought she was attractive-"

"I'm gay!" Harry blurted, "I'm not lying, she might have been attractive but I genuinely didn't notice."

"You're gay?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry replied, starting to pull away because the bond was still tugging but not unbearable, "Go ahead and start making fun of me, let's just end this horrible wee-"

"I'm not going to make fun of you," Malfoy said.

He looked down at the other man, too surprised to come up with words for a moment. "You're not?"

"Well, it would be pretty hypocritical if I did," he replied.

"You're-?" Harry started.

Malfoy shrugged one shoulder and his fingers trailed mindlessly along Harry's spine, "I'm bi," he said.

"Oh." Harry replied and he settled back against Malfoy, "I didn't know."

"You never asked."

"Well neither did you," he protested.

Malfoy looked at him for a long moment, "I didn't know that I was allowed to."

"Why would I be allowed to ask if you weren't?"

He rolled his eyes, "Because you're Harry Potter and you've always thought that the rules didn't apply to you."

"Come off it," he said. "I live by the same rules everyone else does. If anything, I'm held to a higher standard."

"You're held to a higher standard? Potter, you have no idea what it means to be held to a high standard. I'm an ex-death eater, my every move is scrutinized," Malfoy said. "When I started at the DMLE I was told that if I put 'one toe out of line I'd be put in Azkaban faster than I could say Auror.'"

"Someone said that to you?" Harry asked incredulously.

He huffed a bitter laugh, "Multiple people said that to me. So tell me again about being held to a higher standard, Potter."

"It's different," Harry admitted, "But when I do something wrong I get the lecture about how I'm an example for everyone else. The things that I do are a template for what other people will find acceptable. That sort of...stuff," he finished lamely, trailing off uncomfortably.

"I hadn't thought about that," Malfoy confessed.

"I’m just a person," he said. "And I like to think that I learned to respect boundaries and don't ask overly personal questions-"

"Sorry," Malfoy said, stopping the words coming out of Harry's mouth. "You're right. You aren't sixteen anymore."

His initial instinct was to fight about who'd been worse at sixteen and the words were on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed them back, "You're not sixteen anymore either."

The corner of Malfoy's mouth tipped up and they just looked at each other for a long moment before the other man said, "Alright, that's quite enough soul searching. Get off me, Potter. I want to finish my book before bed."

Harry chuckled and climbed off the couch, "I'm going to shower."

"Yes, thank you for the update," Malfoy drawled. "I'll be sure to alert the press."

"Prat," Harry grumbled but it didn't hold the venom that it normally did. He couldn't help but wonder if his improved mood was because of the time he'd spent with his friends or because of the conversation he'd just had with Malfoy.

------------

This is going to be a couple more parts- this keeps sucking me in. I'll try to get at least one more part posted today.

Day 125: Accidental Bonding | Part 3

[qyllenhaal]

Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

-

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

-

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."

[foli-vora]

more than words, pt.4

A/N: Hello, angels! I hope you’re all safe and healthy! Next instalment is here, and I’m very excited for what’s coming. I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy, too! Love to you all! (I hope I haven’t forgotten to tag anyone but if I did, I’m really sorry!)

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x f!reader, best friend!Benny Miller x f!reader

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF, swearing, brief alcohol mention, bit of spice (reminder: this fic is 18+), Frankie being the tease he is

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.5 / pt.6

+

Your lips were still tingling when you woke the next morning, eyes fluttering open and a smile creeping onto your face as the events from last night replay through your mind for the millionth time. Frankie had been on your mind the entire drive home, the tenderness of his first kiss kicking your heart into double time, and the pure unrestrained passion of the kiss that followed hitting a far lot lower.

Was it possible for a first date to go as well as it did? There wasn’t a single moment in your time spent with Frankie that had you unsure about his character or intentions.

Benny had actually done it. He had found you a guy you really liked. Is Hell freezing over?

You reach for your phone as you slip from bed, stretching leisurely as you make your way to the kitchen, and finding Benny’s contact before pressing ‘call’. It takes a few rings, until his drawl finally greets you through the phone.

“Did you puke?” is his immediate answer and you roll your eyes, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you putter around your kitchen putting some breakfast together.

“No, you asshole.”

He laughs. “He’s that whipped, he’d probably thank you.”

What? What does that mean? Has Frankie spoken to Benny? Did he talk about last night? What did he say? Did he think it went as well as you did? Shit. Calm down. You try to steady your suddenly quickening pulse, a pleasant flutter consuming your stomach as you attempt to sound casual.

“Oh? Has he said something?”

Benny’s voice is sly, teasing – he knows you far too well. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean ‘maybe’?”

“Maybe I’m sitting next to him right now. And maybe he’s sitting here blushin’ like a little –” Benny grunts suddenly, seemingly in pain, and the phone crackles as he shifts on the other end, “don’t fuckin’ kick me. Anyway, Fish wants to know what you’re wearing.”

You hear him then, raspy voice piping up in the background with an aghast ‘What?! No–’ and then there’s more scuffling, more grunts of pain, and Benny’s snort of laughter.

“What are you even doing up?” Benny redirects his attention to you after a few minutes of bickering with Frankie, words muffled as he talks around whatever food he has rolling around his mouth. He had noted the early time when your face had flashed over his screen, wondering what could’ve possibly gotten you up and out of bed so early on a day off.

You shrug lightly, even though he couldn’t see it, and prepare your pancake batter. “Just couldn’t sleep in.”

He’s quiet, chewing thoughtfully and then asking softly, “You okay?”

“Yeah – I’m fine, just bored sitting at home. For some reason, I wanted to see what you were up to and if you wanted to hang out, but you’re busy so never mind.”

Benny laughs, “Aw, you missin’ me, angel?” he teases.

“Ugh, I take it back. I’d rather sit here in silence and stare at my wall.”

You can hear him laughing even as you pull your phone away and press the red button, shaking your head and smiling to yourself.

-

A week passes by before you even know it, work taking over much of your week, and much to your delight, Frankie had eagerly organised another night to meet up. You had talked all week of course – a phone call every evening once Mena had been put down for the night, texts here and there throughout the day, and when he had asked if you were free at all over the weekend, you had agreed without a second thought.

Eagerness buzzes through your system the entire day of the date and the drive to the restaurant, a much welcome change from the anxiety riddled one before. It was a breath of fresh air.

Frankie was waiting for you, as he said he would, leaning against the wall of the restaurant and a smile immediately widening his features when his eyes find you.

This time there was no hesitation, no voice in the back of your mind wondering how to tackle the situation. As soon as you saw him – you couldn’t help yourself – you were in his arms and giving him a soft kiss in greeting. Pleasantly surprised, he smiles against your lips, arms winding around your waist, and the electric tingles that rocket up from your palm when his rough hand gently takes yours has your heart going wild in your chest.

It’s dinner instead of drinks this time, and the two of you squeeze yourselves into one side of the leather booths, instead of sitting opposite each other. You order quickly, and sip at your beer while you listen to Frankie talk about his week, the conversation soon moving in all sorts of directions as you wait for your food.

“How could you not?” You cry at one point, slapping a hand on the table and watching his shoulders shake as he laughs, stomach twisting at the pleasant sound of it.  “The universe is huge – like, huge. We are not alone.” You say ominously, and he laughs harder, head hitting the back of the booth.

“Where’s the proof?”

“What?”

“The proof! If it’s so big and we’re not the only ones here, where is everyone?”

“It’s a cover up.” You sniff indifferently, sipping your drink and fighting the twitches threatening to turn your pursed lips into a smile. “Oh my god, you were in the military – are you in on it?”

He’s struggling to breathe, cheeks aching under the grin stretching his features and stomach starting to cramp. “In on what?”

“That’s it! You’re part of the cover up!”

“Yeah, you’ve got me. I was actually a part of a crew chasing away UFO’s.”

No longer able to keep it in, you erupt into a fit of violent giggles, melting over the table top and letting the laughter shake your frame. Frankie watches you fondly, affection flooding his system and causing his insides to warm pleasantly.

He was still trying to work out how he was here, with a beautiful woman, having great conversations, fun conversations, and laughing more than he had in… shit… a long time. It was refreshing and, if he were completely honest with himself, slightly nerve-wracking. Nothing ever stays so perfect, and that thought had him ensuring he was enjoying every second he could with you before you inevitably realised you were incredibly out of his league and went looking elsewhere.

But… how could you ever? When you peak up at him, you can’t help but study the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way his dimples deepen in his cheek, and you honestly couldn’t imagine anywhere else in the world you’d rather be. It was… scary. You’d only known him a couple of weeks, and you were feeling like this?

The night melts away before you both even know it happens and soon, you’re snatching up the bill before he can move, and walking out onto the street, Frankie’s arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you pressed close up to his side as a sharp late evening breeze sweeps through you both.

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

“Chickens?”

“I’m sorry, but have you ever been chased by a rooster? Those things are fucking vicious, Frankie.”

He grins, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay, well what about you?”

“Heights.”

What?

You frown, “But you’re a pilot?”

“I can handle heights if I can control the situation. Flying is easy – I know what to do when I need to do it. It’s when something’s out of my control – falling off a cliff and shit. It’s just… a long way down.” He’s quiet, obviously dwelling on something before he’s shaking his head and smiling, “Do you have a favourite book?”

The short walk to your car takes longer with the leisurely pace you both had unconsciously set, wanting to milk the remaining minutes of the date as much as you could before having to part ways.

“Thank you for dinner.” He spins you into his arms and you laugh quietly, smiling.

“You’re welcome.”

Silence falls over you both as you regard the other.

Frankie… your voice is so quiet, the soft whisper of it dances in his ears, igniting a fire through his veins. He unconsciously presses himself closer, lost in the way your lashes flutter when you look at him. You raise a hand, fingers trailing softly against his jaw and he turns his face into your touch, chasing the feeling of your warm fingertips as they glide up and around his neck.

“Kiss me?”

He smiles, enjoying the way your face scrunches slightly as he nuzzles his nose against yours, “Say please,” he mutters playfully, grin widening when you breathe a quiet giggle.

“Please kiss me, Francisco.”

Oh shit.

You don’t miss the way his face slackens for a brief moment, eyes widening and breath seemingly getting caught in his throat. He swallows, the flicker of a flame that had been burning lowly in his stomach suddenly blazes red hot and then he’s moving, hands cupping your cheeks and claiming your mouth with an intensity that had your knees buckling the second his lips touched yours.

You melt instantly, unable to stop the small whimper that bubbles from your mouth as his tongue traces teasingly along your lip. You open your mouth automatically, tongue immediately sliding greedily along his. His mouth was hot, rough against yours, and the grunt he lets out when your fingers dig into the dark curls at the nape of his neck has a delicious heat shooting to your core, your hips rolling against his.

Fuck. Did you just grind on him?

The sudden stab of panic at potentially going too far is quickly extinguished when his hands fly to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer and keeping you tight up against him while his fingers dig hungrily into your flesh.

The sudden blaring of a car alarm has you both jumping apart and a mile high, Frankie’s hands tightening on you instinctively, and it’s not until you look around that you discover it’s your car making that God awful noise that is ripping your ear drums apart.

“Shit,” you fumble for your keys, quickly pressing the button while Frankie chuckles into the skin of your throat, hands softly rubbing up and down along your waist to calm you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault.” He grins, not at all remorseful for causing such a big disturbance. “It was probably for the best – any longer and we might’ve been arrested for indecent exposure.” The words are growled playfully against your skin, but you can’t help thinking he wasn’t far from the truth. You laugh, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and placing a final kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Drive safe,” you say as he begins to pull back, and he smiles warmly at you.

“You too.”

You slip into your car, watch him disappear down the street and sigh dreamily, body working on auto-pilot for the drive home while your head remains firmly in the clouds. You could only hope you had actually somewhat paid attention to the road and didn’t miss any stop signs or red lights.

Your phone goes off in your hand when you eventually walk through the door to your apartment, and you read the text as you shrug off your jacket. Your eyes have to read it back and forth a few times before the words actually sink in, and then you’re holding it to your chest, delicately cradling the device while you rest heavily on your door, heat flushing along your cheeks.

I’ve thought about whether or not I should say this the entire drive home, but fuck it... miss you already.

Well, fuck.

-

Delivering a sharp little karate chop to the remaining flat cushion on your couch to fluff it, you place it with the others and then neaten the edges of the blanket hanging over the back, casting one final glance around your apartment and trying to imagine seeing it through a visitor’s eyes.

Clean.

Really clean.

Frankie was picking you up for a ‘mystery date’, which meant – naturally – you had spent the entire day scrubbing every surface in your apartment until it looked like you semi-had your life together. Did you inhale more bleach than what is probably considered healthy? Most definitely. Do you regret it? No. Will your apartment ever be this clean again? Also probably a no.

Checking the time, you’re startled to see how long you had spent fluffing fucking pillows and chant curses as you run to your room, kicking the clothes you rip off under your bed to deal with later and quickly pulling on the outfit it had definitely not taken you two hours to decide on. Your eyes dart to the alarm clock next to your bed when a knock on the door echoes throughout your small home.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he’s on time –

God, why can’t he just show up half an hour late like the others? You immediately regret giving him the code to your building… that could’ve bought you an extra few minutes.

Stupid perfect face with his stupid perfect punctuality –

You open the door with a grin, hoping your forehead doesn’t look as sweaty as it feels, face softening when you find Frankie standing on the other side with a little potted houseplant cradled in his palms. He sees your eyes fall to it curiously and holds it out to you, your fingers brushing his when you carefully take it from his hands.

“You said flowers make you sad when they die, so…” he shrugs lightly, a gentle smile curling his lips.

Oh.

Emotion claws at your throat as your fingers trace the patterned leaves softly. Not only had he paid attention and actually listened to you during your many conversations, he had gone out of his way to find you a gift you could nurture, one that wouldn’t inevitably end up in the trash after a week or two of blossoming.

You swallow the sudden lump in your throat, clearing your throat quietly before glancing up at him, shy and overwhelmed by the wave of adoration that inundates you.

“Thank you, Frankie. I love it.”

And he knows you really do. He can hear it in your voice, sees the gratitude shining in your eyes. He follows you as you turn back into your apartment, eyes following you fondly as you walk around, eyeing potential places to situate your new addition.

“I think he looks good there.” You say, turning to confirm his approval over your shoulder after you situate it in the middle of your small dining table. He smiles, nodding his support and watching you turn back to look at the plant, taking his own little minute to admire you and the way you look bathed in the bright afternoon sun shining through your windows.

Fuck. He was captivated, completely infatuated by someone he had only known, what – three weeks? He should be nervous, should be alarmed that such strong feelings had developed so quickly, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than joy – hope. Maybe this could be it, you and him. Endgame.

Fuck. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

His arms open automatically when you saunter up to him, enveloping you into a warm embrace while you press an appreciative kiss to his cheek.

“So, this mystery date,” you say, pulling back to gaze up at him while your hands wrap loosely around his neck, “will I need a jacket?”

“Yes,” he nods, grinning when your brows pinch in contemplation. “You’ll never guess so don’t hurt you head trying.” Lips press against your forehead and you press back into the soft touch, heart jumping at the tender gesture.

-

“Minigolf?” You question, looking up at the colourful entrance.

“Is that okay? If not, we can go somewhere else –”

He’s nervous – you can hear it in his voice.

Easing his anxiety, you shake your head and grin, “It’s perfect.”

You watch him relax, a pleased smile curling his lips, and then your hand is in his as he leads you through the gate and to the reception area to pay. The both of you meander outside once collecting your clubs and balls, and you feel childishly giddy at all the bright colours and fun obstacles set throughout, bouncing slightly in excitement as you walk to the first hole.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” He asks around a grin, head tilting as he watches you set up and take your position.

“This isn’t my first time,” you hum, shifting on your feet and lining up your shot. Swinging the golf club gently, you watch the neon orange ball bounce along the walls and finish up teeteringly on the edge of the cup before falling in with a satisfying clunk.

“Oh, by the way,” you spin, smirking, “I kick ass at minigolf.”

“Good,” he returns your smirk, gently nudging you out the way, “I don’t have to take it easy on you, then.”

What had started out as fun, quickly becomes competitive, and with competition comes foul play. Frankie had pinched your sides when you went to hit your ball, your body jolting with a yelp of surprise as he exploited your ticklish spots. In return, you knocked his golf club when he swung, and giggled wildly when he immediately turned on you, wrapping you in a tight hold and raining scratchy kisses along your throat in punishment.

The afternoon melts into evening with mix of steady conversation, laughter and hidden kisses behind obstacles – Frankie stealing the breath right from your lungs when he crowds you against the side of the colourfully decorated windmill and claims your mouth, the crowds of other couples and families wandering around the course oblivious to the two of you hidden in the shadows.

If he was trying to work you up, it was working. He had to know what he was doing to you, had to know how all-consuming his presence was when he swept you up into kiss after kiss. You were so wrapped up in the touches he would caress you with, so focused on the feel of his moustache as it tickled the skin above your lip, that you were completely unaware you were losing… until you peaked at the card Frankie kept sticking out of his back pocket (totally not because you were checking out his ass) and the wave of vicious competitiveness shadows the overwhelming desire to jump him right in the middle of the course on the artificial turf.

Payback.

The next course, you took your short as normal, squirming as you feel Frankie come to stand right behind you. Focus –

Breathe, he’s not there. Breathe, he’s not there. Breathe –

Goosebumps rise along your arms in waves, the skin on the back of your neck prickling as he ghosts his curved nose down the column of your throat, your head tilting ever so slightly to allow him more access.

Fuck. No, breathe –

You swing the club, satisfaction rolling through you when the ball ends up in the cup perfectly in one shot. He’s slightly shocked, incredibly impressed, and presses a soft kiss of praise just below your ear. You watch as he takes your place, dropping his ball on the ground and readying his posture.

God, you need to stop looking at him like that.

The golf club feels loose in his grip, palms clammy from the fiery gaze locked onto the back of his neck as he hunches over for his turn. He feels a presence behind him but doesn’t pay any mind to it, and instead pays all of his attention to lining up the ball, mentally calculating what sort of angle he’d need to get it through the tunnel and around the winding corners to the cup a short dip below.

The cool puff of air suddenly blowing past and tickling his ear makes him fumble, the ball missing the tunnel and bouncing off of the sides and rolling back to his feet. He sighs, eyeing you over his shoulder with a playful frown as you blink innocently back at him.

He lines up again, tensing when warm hands work their way under his jacket, resting softly on his hips. He could feel the heat of your palms through his t-shirt and clears his throat, shifting on his feet and trying to focus back on the ball. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, teeth nipping lightly at his skin when he swings the golf club softly. Another miss. Frankie watches the ball return again, stopping at his feet with a light knock to his shoe.

“Yeah, that’s right, Morales – I’m onto you.” Your soft voice rings in his ear and he grins, knocking the ball into position with his club. “You may play dirty… but I do, too – try again.”

The words settle hotly in his stomach.

“You think you can win?”

“I know I can.” You all but purr into his ear.

He blocks you out then, focusing everything he has on getting that stupid fucking pink ball through the tunnel. He’s got it this time. This time –

Fingers dive under his shirt and his stomach jumps as they trace along his hot skin, slowly following along the waistband of his jeans teasingly. Fire shoots through his veins, muscles clenching under the feather light touches, your nails softly dragging along his skin.

Fucking Christ –

“Are you just going to stand here all day, Francisco?” You question slyly, voice soft and mocking. At your teasing, both verbal and physical, he hits the ball a little harder than intended and it bounces off the turf entirely and into the bushes lining the course.

You’re smug as you watch it disappear into the shrubs, “I’d say that’s forfeit.”

You go to step away when he starts to turn, but a hand grabs your wrist and keeps you flush against him, your insides somersaulting as his dark eyes burn through you.

“You’re trouble.” He accuses gruffly, heart still hammering in his chest while his skin burns from the ghost of your touches.

“You love it.”

He does.

Fuck, he does. Too much.

“Come on, loser,” you murmur, lips leaving a whisper of a kiss against his. “I’m hungry.” And with that, you turn, winking cheekily at him from over your shoulder, and he watches you walk away with a dumbfounded expression before he follows along behind you, jeans feeling a little tighter than what they did before.

-

The tension is stifling in the truck on the drive home. You feel your heart beating in your ears, the anticipation bubbling in your chest growing with every mile Frankie travels closer to your apartment. You were aching. Physically in fucking pain, and rubbing your thighs together was doing nothing to soothe the insistent throbbing from your core.

All that playful teasing, the touches and the rough kisses during the day, had caught up, and it was destroying you.

Frankie had briefly mentioned Mena staying with his parents for the night, and it had kickstarted your thoughts into overdrive. Was that a hint? Was he giving you a green light to potentially take this further? Was he saying he would be open to staying over? Was he asking to?

You were worried you were thinking on it too much, maybe getting the wrong idea and he was just expressing how nice it would be to have a night all to himself, but then his hand landed on your thigh and squeezed, and any inklings of doubt all but vanished.

He watches you from the corner of his eye, trying to focus on the road and not the way you keep shifting in your seat. He feels every time you squeeze your thighs together, feels the muscles move under his hand, and he physically has to stop himself from making a noise every time you do. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him?

Your building comes into view and then he’s pulling up outside, removing his hand from your thigh and throwing the truck into park, letting it idle while you study the structure and get your thoughts together. Swallowing the sudden spike of nerves that settle in your stomach, you look to Frankie and find him already watching you quietly.

For a moment, you say nothing, and he doesn’t bother filling the silence. He lets you have all the time you need while you decide on your next move. Not that you need much time – you know exactly what you want.

“Do you want to come up?” You ask quietly, watching his eyes darken as they flicker to your building before returning to you. You watch his Adams apple bob as he swallows, and then he’s nodding, turning the keys in the ignition and the truck cuts out beneath you.

+

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh @peterhollandkait @sara-alonso @starlightsearches @bookishofalder @empress-palpat1ne @shadowolf993 @rosiefridayrogersunday @canyonmirrors @eoz-stuff @blackonemasie​ @layniapetrovnaaa​ @alberta-sunrise​ @betterthanbucky​ @linkpk88​ @afootnoteinyourhappiness​ @livilottie​ @hailmaryyramliah​ @kesskirata​ @blueeyesatnight​ @a-perfct-stranger​

[marginalmadness]

Summer Nights: 2/4

Pairing: Rabbit!Hybrid Jungkook x Y/N

Rating: Mature (later explicit)

Genre: Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance, Fluff

Synopsis: A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long…will it?

Warnings/Tags: This chapter involves Jungkook going into heat.

Author’s Note: If I called @johobi​ patient before, I fucked up the tenses to bad in this chapter, it took her HOURS to fix. But she approved of the chapter which I’m happy about because this is the one I was most worried about. Jungkook Goes into heat in this chapter, and I hope nobody wants to kill me when they finish it.  Chapter 3 is only a week away! <3

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Tags: @kookiebunny97​ @mintyrae​ @skswriting​ 

Word Count: 5.6K

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. The events depicted here are entirely of my own imagining, and have no basis on actual people or events.

I hope everyone is enjoying BE, and Life Goes On.

Summer Nights: Chapter Two

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the sourc

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the source of the enchanting sound. To your shock and delight, you find Jungkook hopping around the kitchen happily, ears and hair bouncing as he sings along to the radio and prepares pancakes. His voice is divine. You stand there enraptured, caught under his spell. He drops the spatula in fright when he turns to find you leaning against the wall, watching him silently.

 “Please continue,” you urge him. But he shakes his head, blushing and hiding behind his ears. “Your voice is so pretty. Please?” you coax, stepping towards him. Jungkook considers you from behind his ears for a second. Then, tentatively, he picks up the spatula and resumes his song while he washes it clean.

 From that day onwards, he wakes you each morning the same way, voice drifting through the bedroom door he leaves slightly ajar. There’s always a stack of warm, fluffy pancakes waiting for you in the kitchen, and beside it a bowl of yogurt-drizzled fruit. As soon as you’re seated, Jungkook extends a freshly brewed cup of breakfast tea to you. You eat together in the early morning light, the radio playing in the background. And while you get ready for work, Jungkook cleaned up the dishes from breakfast. 

 Domestic heaven. 

At the end of your work day, you come home and thank God he’s still there. Sometimes he’s typing away on your laptop. Jungkook signed up as a freelance transcriber as a way to make money while staying with you. It was something to do while you were at work, too, restless soul that he is.  Sometimes, though, you come home to find him flopped on his side in a patch of sun, having a nap as a bunny. 

You cook dinner together now. Well, when you say together, you mean you take his direction, since Jungkook is a much better cook than you. He uses some of his free time to look up recipes he thinks you’ll like. 

It’s ridiculously heartwarming. 

After dinner, as is your routine, you split the washing up and curl up together to watch some Netflix. On the days you do all the washing up, Jungkook doesn’t fight you for control of the TV. 

You still tease him over the first and only time you watched a horror movie. The first jump-scare forced him into rabbit form and he leapt into your lap in fright. Jungkook spent the entire movie there, shivering. And the rest of the night he spent pressed against your side in a tight, furry ball. Of course, the next day he insisted he wasn’t that scared, he just didn’t want to bother you by transforming back and forth.

He did a similar thing when you were watching a sappy romantic movie, but you don’t tease him about that. The second you noticed him sniffling at the lovers’ separation, he turned into a rabbit and hopped off his chair and over to you. You expected him to come cuddle, but he scrambled onto the back of the sofa and situated himself by your head instead. Every time there was a particularly romantic moment, he would nudge you with his nose and tickle you with his whiskers. And when he was feeling particularly bold, he’d grip your shoulder with his front claws and rub his chin over your cheek and neck. It tickled so much it made you squirm. 

After extricating yourself from his clutches, a quick search on the internet told you that rabbits do this to mark their territory. You have trouble looking him in the eye the rest of that day. You know he’s attracted to you; have done since that first night. But he’s been ever so respectful. For some reason, the thought of him marking you as his makes your skin flush and burn.

Shopping for groceries is an experience, too. Jungkook skips around the store, picking multiple things up, asking you if you like them before throwing them in the shopping cart. It doesn’t matter whether you need them or not, just if you like it. That’s good enough for Bun. He’s so happy and energetic, his smile wide and eyes sparkling until you bend over into a freezer to pick up some ice cream. When you turn back, Jungkook is clinging to the cart, his eyes wide and entire body stock-still. All but his foot as it wildly pounds the ground.

“You okay, Bun?” you ask with a tilt of your head. His mouth drops open into a shape as round as his eyes. Mimicking you, Jungkook tilts his head before blinking and shaking it. And then he coughs, practically vibrates, before muttering something about cereal and running off in the opposite direction of the cereal. 

Ever since that peculiar day, Jungkook has insisted on going grocery shopping alone. Something about getting out of the house and becoming more independent. But he blushes and averts his eyes as he says it, foot tapping wildly until he kicks over a plant pot. He cleans up the mess without another word, chewing on one of its stricken leaves and purposefully avoiding your eyes for the rest of the day.

Your weekends become different too. Before Bun arrived, you’d spent them relaxing after your work week, alone and in peace. Now you have a tiny, demanding rabbit that follows you around your apartment, tripping you up. And now you also have a fully grown, demanding man. A roommate - for lack of a better word - with which to do things. Now you have Saturday walks in the park and Sunday brunches. Imagine that.

 Jungkook is incredibly physical. Forever moving, rarely still, bouncing from foot to foot, wiggling when excited. When you praise him, he claps and dances. The day you get a promotion at work, he hugs you so tightly, lifting you up and spinning you in the air because he’s simply that happy. He binkies about in excitement just as much as he did in bunny form, long hair and floppy ears bouncing wildly as his eyes crinkle in happiness, sending things flying in his excitement. You’ve already replaced one particular lamp three times.

But then Jungkook starts marking his territory in human form, too.

You’re chopping something for dinner on some nondescript day when Jungkook approaches you from behind, hands sliding gently over your hips. You could shake him off easily if you wanted to. But you find yourself not wanting to. His chin rests on your shoulder as though he’s just watching you work, but then the subtle rub starts. Across your shoulder and into the crook of your neck, until an involuntary shudder runs down your spine. It snaps Jungkook back to his senses and he pulls away.

—-

The day everything changed was the day from hell. Work had been awful, just one fuck up after another. None of which were even your fault, but all of which you were expected to fix.

You come home to a tidy apartment, subtle scented candles burning and soft music playing. Jungkook is in the kitchen cooking, and you’re sure the ingredients you can smell are ones he’s shopped for today.

“Welcome home.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “Dinner is almost done if you want to get washed up.” He turns back to stir the pan on the stove. When you walked through the front door you were on the verge of tears. Now your eyes are misting up for the complete opposite reason.

You drag your sorry ass over to him and practically collapse against his wide, strong back, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist like he often does you.

“Thank you,” you practically sob into his shirt, screwing your eyes closed in an effort to not actually cry. You try to keep the emotion out of your voice but Jungkook knows you well enough to sense you’re upset by something. He immediately switches off the stove burners and turns to wrap his arms tightly around you, holding you without a second thought.

 “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, voice full of concern. Large, strong hands brush the hair back from your face.

 “I just had a really shit day, and you just—” You turn, arms flailing, motioning to the clean apartment and dinner on the stove. Jungkook nods in understanding. “—you made it all better.” His eyes go round as he blinks at you in shock, before melting into something warm. He tucks your hair behind your ears and tilts your head as he moves in, as though he were going to kiss you. Your eyes flutter closed as his nose brushes yours, but his lips never touch yours. “What’s this?” you ask in a whisper, blinking your eyes open to find him smiling at you softly.

 “A rabbit thing,” he says simply, resting his forehead against yours with a soft grunt of air. It doesn’t quite reach a growl. You know it's a rabbit thing; you researched. But you didn’t expect it in human form.

 “Okay.” You don’t push, don’t demand an explanation for a deeper meaning, just accept the affection from him. You lean in and brush your nose against his in return, causing him to gasp and grunt again, hand moving from your face to your waist. It lingers there for a few seconds before Jungkook gently, physically, pushes you away, his large eyes looking bigger than usual. His pupils are blown out, almost entirely black. Breath comes from his parted lips in short pants and huffs.

 “You should get cleaned up while I finish dinner,” he says softly, stepping backwards. There’s an arm’s length of space between you now. You nod at him, hands finding his, giving him a squeeze as you back out of the kitchen. You don’t let go until the space between you is too far for your fingertips to touch. His eyes don’t leave you until you’re completely out of sight.

 You close the door quietly, leaning your forehead against it and taking slow, deep, grounding breaths, trying to calm the racing of your heart. What was that? Sure, it isn’t the first time he’s done it; he did it on the night he transformed and kissed you. Somehow, though, it felt as intimate as him kissing you again. Is it wrong to feel this way towards Jungkook? He’s your Bun, your charge; you’re his caretaker. Are you taking advantage of him? Is he only acting like this because he’s thankful to you for taking care of him?

 You push off and away from the door, feeling heavy. It’s almost like there’s a rope connecting you to Jungkook and forever pulling you towards him. You change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. If that more comfortable thing happens to be something just a little clingy in certain, flattering places, and it makes you feel pretty, then you tell yourself you need the ego boost after the day you had. It has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to look good for Jungkook. You head to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your hair into something more relaxed before returning to the kitchen. And Jungkook.

 “Nope!” Jungkook yells, stopping you before you can even enter the kitchen, two strong hands taking you by the shoulders, turning you around and practically marching you towards the living room. You pout over your shoulder at him, but he’s just grinning and laughing at your pouty face. You slump onto the sofa and he leans over the back of it, hovering over you, his eyes crinkling as he laughs musically. Ever so carefully he takes you by the jaw, rubbing his chin over your head, tilting you to the side so he can whisper in your ear.

 “Sit and relax, I’ll bring you dinner.” His voice is light and full of joy.

 You sit and pout, grabbing the remote to put some music on. At the exact moment you drop it back to the table, a bowl of food is placed in front of you. You blink up at a grinning Jungkook as he retreats eagerly to the kitchen, presumably for drinks. His enthusiasm is infectious. You pick up the bowl of pasta, twirling your fork in the creamy sauce and noodles, and take a big bite. It’s delicious. Delicious enough to have you moaning with pleasure and sliding back against the couch.

 “Kookie, this is amazing!” you groan, licking the sauce from your lips.

 Jungkook stares at you, eyes wide, focused on your tongue as it slides along your lips. You hadn’t even realised he’d come back from the kitchen. He places a glass of wine on the table in front of you, ducking his head and hiding behind his ears as he shuffles to his spot on the sofa, bowl in hand. You watch him slyly out of the corner of your eye. His face is so red, so glowing you can almost feel the heat radiating from it. “I made it,” he says, still staring intently at his food. “I found a recipe online I thought you would like.”

 “From scratch?” you ask, amazed. He nods, biting his lip and refusing to look at you. You reach across the space between you and thread your fingers into his soft, wavy locks, rubbing the spot just behind one of his floppy ears. “Bun this is amazing, it tastes amazing!” His head lifts up, eyes so big they sparkle in the low light. “You’re amazing,” you whisper in a soft voice. Jungkook ducks his head again, hiding once more behind his long ears and curly hair. He eats his food slowly, more picking at it than anything. You, on the other hand, tuck in enthusiastically, all manners and grace gone, letting him see and hear your enjoyment of the food. You know how much it pleases him when you unabashedly enjoy his cooking. When you ask for seconds, handing him your empty bowl, Jungkook binkies across the room to the kitchen, bouncing on his heels as he piles a second serving of noodles and sauce into your bowl.

 He hands it back to you soon after and sits beside you on the sofa, knees curling under himself. Reclining on the back cushions, he observes you as you eat, arms crossed and eyes sparkling. When you’re half way through your second serving and can’t eat a bite more, he whisks away the dishes and returns quickly to your side. 

 Jungkook flops over and places his head in your lap. “Will you…” He bites his lip, turning to bury his face in your sweater, his cheeks burning crimson again.

 “What? What do you want, Kookie?” you ask, carding your fingers through his hair and rubbing a thumb over the gentle fur of his ear. It twitches repeatedly.

 “Just this. Will you play with my hair? Stroke my ears?” he asks in a small voice. It’s unusually meek for him in his human form.

 “Of course I will, Bun. Anything you want.” You smile, running your fingers through his hair, nails trailing down his scalp. His leg kicks out, narrowly missing the coffee table. You hand him the remote. “Pick something to watch.”

Jungkook shuffles, turning to face the TV. With his head still in your lap, he curls up into a ball, enjoying your ministrations. You continue to pet him, running your fingers through his hair and stroking his ears, twirling locks of hair around your finger before releasing the resulting curl. You lounge there together, the stress of the day bleeding away from you thanks to a stomach full of good food and your hand tangled in the hair of—Jungkook—whatever he was to you right now.

You don’t know exactly when you fall asleep, but you wake to strong arms holding you, carrying you to your room. Jungkook places you delicately on your bed and you fling yourself backwards, curling up to drift off again. But before long you’re being shaken gently awake and sat back up. Soft, cotton pajamas are pushed into your hands.

“You need to get changed,” a soft, deep voice says firmly in your ear. A warm body presses against your back.

You pout, eyes resolutely closed, but begin taking off your sweater. Large hands help you when you get tangled on your arms. It’s even more of a struggle to unhook your bra. You flail for a while before dropping your arms and slumping back against Jungkook with a tired, pathetic whine. If you were properly awake you might have noticed how his breath hissed through his teeth, or how his nose rubbed your temple. 

With more force than is probably necessary, Jungkook grips you by the shoulder and props you forward. Then, with just one finger, he pulls your bra band away from your back, taking all care not to touch you at all. By some black magic he manages to unhook it, sliding the straps down and off your arms before discarding it on the floor. Not once does he look over your shoulder. He pulls the camisole of your pajama set over your head, guiding your arms through the straps before you wake enough to take over and pull both arms through.

“Now the shorts,” he grunts, low and gruff. It’s unusual enough that you pout at him over your shoulder.

“Bossy bunny,” you mumble, standing and kicking off the comfy leggings you had on. Somewhere in the back of your head you register a soft ‘”shit’” that you’re too tired to acknowledge. You pull on your shorts and sit back down, immediately flopping to your pillow. You feel your body being turned, tucked beneath the sheet pulled over you. Sleep comes easily to you after that.

—-

You wake up while it’s still dark outside. Jungkook’s chest is hot against your back, his knees curled and tucked behind yours. A muscled arm hangs heavily over your waist, keeping you close to him. You lift it as carefully as possible and slide out of bed, tip-toeing stealthily across the soft carpet and out of the room. You head to the kitchen and grab a glass in the dark, in search of a drink for your parched throat.

You drink your fill and shuffle back to bed, bringing a glass with you just in case. Although you slip into your room as stealthily as you’d left it, Jungkook is awake when you return. He sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, bottom lip snagged beneath his prominent front teeth.

“Kookie?” you ask softly in the darkness, making your way back to your side of the bed. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I just—I reached for you and you were gone,” he says, watching you place your glass of water down and climb back into bed. “I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Silly rabbit,” you coo. Jungkook rolls towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tangling a powerful, muscular leg with yours. You settle back, stroking his head and mulling over his unusual clinginess as sleep comes to claim you. 

But then you feel a pressure against your thigh, and you’re suddenly very awake. 

Jungkook undulates his hips to a subtle rhythm. “Wha-” you begin, turning to look at him. But he buries his nose beneath your jaw, his breath coming out in soft,  heavy huffs in time with his movements. He grinds against your hip with a desperation. You swallow audibly, forcing yourself to ask as your face burns. “Jungkook, what are you doing?”

“Sorry,” he whines. “I can’t help it, I just—” He throws his thigh over your hips, shifting until he’s hovering over you, weight on his knees and forearms. His hips drop to roll against your stomach, a thick bulge straining the thin material of the pajama bottoms you had bought him. Jungkook ruts against your sweat-covered skin as you stare up at him, eyes wide, frozen in shock. Heat floods through you, stirring your insides until you’re panting. He is, too. His mouth hangs open as he huffs in time with his thrusts, lips grazing your jaw until they reach your mouth. He caresses it softly with his own, barely a whisper of a touch. Once. Twice. Just like that first night he turned. The third time, he kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed and you kiss him back. Nothing more than a delicate tilt of your head and a careful brushing of your lips against his. This is wrong, a voice in the back of your head whispers. This man is practically a stranger.

Only he’s not.

He’s shared your bed as a human for the past two weeks, and ten weeks before that as a rabbit.

You’ve spent evenings curled up together, watching shows you both enjoy. You know his moods, as he knows yours. Your hand feels as comfortable tangled in his hair as it does amongst his fur, and you can read his eyes in both forms exactly the same.

He’s your Jungkook. Your Kookie. 

Your Bun.

He exhales heavily, his tongue lapping at your lips for more. Warm breath fans your face and you practically tremble with anticipation. Jungkook tears himself away to run his hands down the curves of your body, and as you look up at him, your mouth dries at the sight of his godly form. The ever-present glow of the city creates a subtle neon halo behind him, heightening his otherworldly, divine presence.

“I-I—“ As suddenly as he came onto you, Jungkook scrambles backwards off the bed, falling ungracefully to the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!” he yells, eyes watery and wide with terror. He rushes out of the room so quickly he doesn’t even stand up straight. Just heads straight for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You follow too late, reaching your bedroom doorway just in time to hear the bathroom lock snap into place.

You drop to your knees outside the bathroom door, knocking on it gently. “Jungkookie, what’s wrong? Please, come out,” you call.

“I can’t,” comes a whine from the other side of the door. It almost sounds like a sob. “I have to stay here. Can I have a blanket please?” The voice is strained and tight; unsure. It’s not like the warm, bright voice you’ve come to know at all.

“Okay,” you agree. “I’ll get that for you. I’ll be right back.” When you return with the requested blanket, you let Kookie know with a small knock on the door. He cracks it open just enough for you to push the bedding through. In doing so, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re wide and a little teary, his pupils huge. His face and upper chest is worryingly flushed. Jungkook notices you scrutinising his appearance and slams the door shut before you can comment. You hover on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave him. “I’m not upset with you, Bun. I understand if you want some space. Good night.”

You shuffle your way back to bed, curling up under the duvet for the first time in weeks. Because despite the heat and humidity of summer, it feels far, far too cold.

—-

The fullness of your bladder wakes you, demanding you seek relief immediately. You can tell by the noise outside that it’s late morning, and you hope Jungkook is already awake. You roll out of bed and shuffle over to the bathroom, trying the handle and finding it still locked.

With a reluctant sigh, you knock. “Jungkookie? Bun, I need to pee. Can you let me in please?” A few moments later there’s shuffling behind the door and the soft click of a lock opening. A sunken-eyed Jungkook stands on the other side, eyes averted. The duvet you gave him wraps him like a shroud. It hangs over his head, hiding his ears, his hands clutching it tightly at his chest. He stares pointedly at his feet as he shuffles past you, and if it weren’t for your desperate need to pee you’d stop and talk to him. But that’s a conversation that can wait until you’ve made breakfast.

You finish in the bathroom as fast as possible and make your way to the kitchen, noticing how he sits curled up on the chair in the corner of your living room.

You pull out all the things you need to make pancakes and crank up the volume on an upbeat playlist; mostly songs Jungkook likes listening to in the mornings. “Jungkook, could you help me please?” you ask sweetly. “The strawberries and bananas need slicing.”

He perks up at that, ears twitching before his eyes dart over to you. He loves bananas, almost obsessively loves them. I knew that would work, you smile to yourself. Jungkook fiddles with the waistband of his pajamas and you try to forget the outline of his hardness straining against them. Try to forget how your skin flushed when he rocked it against you. You focus back on the batter, giving it an extra hard stir, making sure there’s no lumps in it. That’s the reason for you beating it so vigorously. No other reason.

You sigh, pinching yourself before switching on the burner on the stove.

Jungkook begins chopping fruit. Yes. You smile to yourself, watching him out of the corner of your eye as you work on two stacks of pancakes. The tension in the air between you two eases, and soon you’re both dancing to a song that Jungkook listens to often; its easy choreography something you developed together. The song changes into something new, something you’ve never heard before, but you sway your hips nevertheless as you ladle batter into the hot frying pan. Jungkook bounces from foot-to-foot, endlessly energetic as he works his way through half a bunch of bananas and the entire bowl of strawberries. He’s piling the chopped fruit up on plates when you push between him and the counter with a small, murmured excuse me. The step he takes back to allow you access isn’t quite big enough. Even then you don’t notice; so used to squeezing around one another in the modestly-sized kitchen as you are.

 Jungkook, however, notices.

Your ass slides firmly against him and he grips your hips almost painfully hard, pressing you into the counter.

“Ow! Jungkook, what are you—” Your question becomes a squeal of surprise when he buries his nose behind your ear and grinds his rapidly hardening cock into the cleft of your ass. Only two, flimsy layers of clothing separate you. 

“I need you so bad,” he growls as he rubs his nose through your hair, the underside of his chin skimming the column of your neck. You arch back into him, throwing your head back to expose more of your neck to him. You’re usually a lot more reserved with men—a lot—but something about Jungkook makes you want to be wild. Maybe it’s the way you feel so safe with him. His body is a solid presence against your back, his thrusting desperate and needy. Gone is the sweet, delicate Bun you’ve come to care about. He’s been replaced with someone who grips you, growls at you, and yet you still feel safe in his arms.

It’s Jungkook. He’d never hurt you.

You groan, something between a whine and a whimper being ripped from the back of your throat as he rubs himself against you. Then, suddenly - unwelcomely - cold air hits your back. 

Jungkook has torn himself from you for a second time. 

You turn but he’s not behind you. Spinning in place, you see a fluffy tail vanishing around a cabinet and a pair of light grey pajamas left in its wake. You follow fast enough to watch him hightail it out of the kitchen and across the living room, straight under the chair in the corner. He never sits in it as a human, preferring to sit next to you on the sofa, but it’s his favourite place to hide as a bunny.

You crouch, peeking under the chair, trying to coax him out.

“I’m sorry, Jungkookie. Come out and talk to me, please?” you beg to the huddled mass of fur under the chair. He stays where he is, shifting in a way you know means he’s settling in for the long haul. You stand up, running to turn off the stove before dashing to your bedroom and throwing on some clothes. After grabbing your bag, you check under the chair again. Jungkook is still there. “I’ll be right back, okay?” you tell him, before rushing out the door.

You all but run out of your apartment building, dodging people on the street as you head to the florist a block and a half away to get a custom bouquet made. It’s ugly as hell, but it’s not supposed to be for looking at. All of the flowers are suitable for rabbits to eat, and you get triple the ones you know Jungkook is particularly fond of.

You rush back to your apartment on a sliver of energy, taking extra care to preserve your gift, but the whole journey takes you less than twenty minutes. You discard your shoes and bag by the door and head straight for the chair, placing your peace offering on the floor before it.

“I have a gift for you,” you say, pulling a white hibiscus from the bouquet and presenting it to him. “Please come out and talk to me, Bun.” You watch as Jungkook hops forward, unable to resist the pull of his favourite flower. You untie the haphazard collection of flowers and lay them out on the decorative wrapping paper for him. It does the trick and draws him out from under the chair. You hold your hand out to him carefully, letting him come to you on his own terms. Jungkook devours a rosebud and hops forward, bumping your hand with his nose. You sigh, tension you didn’t know was building melting from your shoulders.

Somewhat placated, you head back to the kitchen. The pancakes are now cold but nothing that can’t be reheated. You store his breakfast in the fridge and slip a couple bits of banana onto the paper with the flowers. Jungkook leaps at them, devouring them with relish before following you into the kitchen and circling your chair as you eat your pancakes. He reaches up, nudging your foot to get your attention. And by attention, he wants more bananas.

Once you’re all done with breakfast, you move to the living room. There are several episodes of a TV show you and Jungkook have been watching together that you need to catch up on, and that’s your usual plan for the weekend. Jungkook, however, has other plans. He jumps into your lap, purposefully knocking the remote out of your hand. You tangle your fingers through his fur and feel him shudder under your touch.

“Do you want to tell me what's wrong now?” you ask softly, thumb rubbing soothing circles between his eyes. Beneath your hand, Jungkook transforms. He curls in on himself, doing his best to obscure his nudity, and buries his head in your stomach. You run a hand down his back and find his skin is clammy and feverish. “Oh my god, are you sick? Bun, you’re burning up!” you exclaim, panic injected into your tone.

“I’m going into heat. It’s why I keep—why I keep—” His voice is high-pitched and strained again.

“Why you keep rubbing against me?” you finish for him, raking your nails through his long locks. His ears and tail twitch and Jungkook whines. Nodding, he curls in on himself tighter. “You need a partner,” you say matter-of-factly, but he shakes his head in disagreement.

“No. I don’t need a partner...” he says simply, the implication left hanging. You move his ear carefully, brushing his hair from his face and cupping it with one hand. Your thumb strokes his cheekbone until his tightly-clenched eyes open.

 “Then, tell me what you want,” you whisper. His eyes narrow like he’s assessing you. Assessing the full implication of your words and trying to decide how to answer you.

 “Normally I’d mate with someone in a nest—” Jungkook starts before he’s racked by shudders. He buries his face in your stomach again and whines.

 “My bed,” you offer. “You can build a nest there if you need to.”

He shoots upward at your words, watching your face carefully. “But—” His eyes are wide, mouth agape as he draws the logical conclusion but not daring to hope. “--where will you sleep?” He asks as though he is scared of the answer.

 You carefully brush his hair back from his face, thumbing over a floppy ear. “I c-can—“ you stutter, before taking a deep breath. “I’ll figure something out.” You lean forward, pressing your forehead to his. Your lips are so close like this, close enough to brush against each other as you speak. It’s not quite a kiss, but your intention is clear. “If you need anything—if you want anything...” You trail off. 

 Jungkook wastes no time. He sits up and crawls into your lap, his bare, muscular thighs straddling yours as he kisses you deeply. His hands, no longer rough, cup your face delicately as though he can’t believe he’s been gifted something so precious. Even as his naked hips roll against your stomach.

 “Iwantyouwantyouwantyou. Need you,” he chants between kisses.

 And in an act of madness - or perhaps sanity - you give yourself to him completely.

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